#I really enjoyed this fight ngl

[felix-krain]

in honor of the countless times this guy kicked my ass (wym I was underleveled???? lies.)

(sketch version under cut)

[reckless-rider]

im trying so hard not spoil anything abt this series bc its such a nice series

[nelyyo]

watching rings of power s2 felt like reading a canon divergence fic where the author had some interesting takes, and i mean it as neither an insult nor a compliment

[meejijis]

ppl who goes against their "dni" and break their own rules by either invading other people's spaces or hate stalking the ppl they hate (which the said person they hate is literally everything they described in their dni list) will always make me so annoyed

[fastandcarlos]

Fred’s Baby Girl : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: after being photographed looking more than comfortable, the fans soon learn that fred isn’t the only vasseur that charles is fond of…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by leclercgirl01, ferarriforthewin and 3,593 others

f1gossip: during the summer break, several photos have emerged of charles leclerc enjoying his holiday with the daughter of ferrari team principal fred vasseur. we’re uncertain if the pair were holidaying alone or with a group of friends, but either way they’re sure looking cosy 🏎️

731 comments

username1: watch them now try and convince us that they’re not dating 😂

username2: can’t wait to see fred’s reaction to this news…

username3: I did think yn was attending more races recently 🤔

username4: look at those smiles 🤩

username5: this was not on my bingo card for 2024

username6: I’m surprised how good they look together ngl

username7: can’t wait for charles to see fred after these pictures 😂

username8: I feel like fred is too soft for charles to be mad about this 🤨

username9: father fred and son charles era pending…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 583,018 others

ynvasseur: another lovely weekend supporting the best team in f1 and cheering on charles and carlos ❤️

31,472 comments

username10: not yn pretending that she was there for both of the boys 😂

username11: notice how it’s charles’ garage that she posts tho

landonorris: omg just give the fans what they want yn 😫

username12: yn just pretending like nothing is even happening rn

pierregasly: I refuse to believe that pr didn’t have to approve this post first with how noncommittal it is 😂

ynvasseur: @/pierregasly I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about 🤷🏻‍♀️

username13: I don’t blame you girl, who could resist charles leclerc 🔥

charles_leclerc: it was lovely to see you in the garage this weekend 🥺

username14: wonder how close of an eye fred is keeping on her this weekend 😉

scuderiaferrari: it’s always a pleasure to have you with us yn ❤️

username15: stop leaving us in suspense, we promise we’ll be happy for you!!

carlossainz55: it’s always a joy to have you there and annoy you yn 😝

ynvasseur: @/carlossainz55 you do such a good job of it too 🙃

username16: charles keeping his reply pg but he’s not convincing any of us 😂😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charlesbbygirl, tifosi99 and 4,391 others

f1gossip: seemingly confirming their relationship, photos have been shared of charles and yn around the ferrari garage looking cosy together, not appearing to care who was around to see them, especially yn’s father fred!

519 comments

username17: how can these two people think they can convince us they’re single 😂

username18: poor carlos is officially the ferrari third wheel!

username19: that second photo makes me think he’s not seen fred yet 😂

username20: is anyone really sitting here thinking these two aren’t dating??

username21: I was at the paddock this weekend and every time I saw charles yn was right there with him too…

username22: can’t wait for boyfriend!charles to reappear once again!!

username23: they’re more than just cosy together ngl

username24: just me thinking this is sad how their privacy is getting completely invaded rn 🤯

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and 601,372 others

ynvasseur: did you really think the two of them wouldn’t still be the best of friends? oh, and congrats on the win too charles 😂❤️

58,381 comments

username25: forever my favourite principal and driver relationship 🥰

charles_leclerc: so happy you got to be there to see your first win of mine irl 💕

ynvasseur: @/charles_leclerc wouldn’t have missed it for the world 🫶🏻

username26: none of us ever thought fred would be anything other than your biggest fan ngl

pierregasly: do I now have to fight your dad too for the position of charles’ best friend???

username27: yn just confirming that fred gives them the green light like it’s no biggie ✅

georgerussell63: I never knew your dad had such a side like this in him 😂

ynvasseur: @/georgerussell63: he’s crazier than me I swear!!

username28: fred looks like such a proud dad 😭😭

carlossainz55: so glad I don’t have to listen to him moan about how scared he is to see your dad anymore 🤦🏻‍♂️

username29: where are you in all these photos we miss you with them!?

arthur_leclerc: now we’ve got fred’s approval I guess we can officially welcome you into the family 🤝

ynvasseur: @/arthur_leclerc can’t wait to meet you guys properly ❤️

username30: it’s funny to me that charles had to explain himself more to fred then any member of his actual family 😝

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and 2,038,363 others

charles_leclerc: who knew fred wasn’t actually the coolest vasseur after all 😂 turns out it’s this one who makes me feel like I’m really winning at life 💞

318,059 comments

username31: these two were simply made for each other 🥹

arthur_leclerc: so you can take her on all these holidays but not bother to bring her home to meet us??

charles_leclerc: @/arthur_leclerc we’ll be there soon enough, don’t worry!

username32: I might’ve just shed a tear or two reading that caption

lewishamilton: I’m already on the back foot and not even joined the team yet now 😂

carlossainz55: and I thought it was being my teammate that made you feel like you were winning at life 💔

username33: yn must be pretty cool to be considered even cooler than her dad 😂

danielricciardo: you’ve for a girlfriend?? you should’ve mentioned it 😱

username34: they’re both equally as awesome as the other imo!!

pierregasly: does this now make you an honorary vasseur for life?

username35: it’s not fair how one person really can have it all 😭

ynvasseur: for the record I’m better than my dad at everything 😉

charles_leclerc: @/ynvasseur let’s get you behind the wheel of an f1 car and put that to the test??

ynvasseur: @/charles_leclerc I’d like to take back my original statement 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by iamrebeccad, charles_leclerc and 601,372 others

ynvasseur: let’s be honest, he never really needed to impress my dad anyway 🥹

49,473 comments

charles_leclerc: fred told me he adored me and I’m never gonna shut up about it 🥰

ynvasseur: @/charles_leclerc I’d crack a joke but I think he actually might prefer you to me 😬

username36: we all know charles is the favourite child deep down ☺️

oscarpiastri: charles does not stop talking about how amazing your dad is btw

ynvasseur: @/oscarpiastri he’s only doing that to make sure he keeps my dad on side!!

username37: the relationship these two have is the sweetest 🥹

carlossainz55: can confirm that this was definitely the case!

username38: I feel like it won’t be long before yn is actually third wheeling fred and charles instead

maxverstappen1: everyone in the paddock knows no one loves charles more than your dad 😂

username39: if I didn’t adore these two before, I definitely do now they’re together too

landonorris: you deserve a medal for putting up with him yn 😂

username40: these captions are honestly gold 🔥

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[cryptfile]

𖥨᩠ׄ݁ holy terrain!!!!!!, [ homelander x supe!reader ]

SUMMARY— based on a request aka when you arrive to vought’s tower covered in blood, you certainly don't expect to enjoy John’s comfort after feeling so numb.

WARNINGS — +18 minors dni, implied fem! reader, homelander is a warning himself, usual the boys content, mentions of murder, violence, reader matches homelander’s freak ngl, always wash your hands before fingering #PLEASE, blood kink at it's best, degradation (blink and you’ll miss it), dirty talk, porn without plot sort of?? lmao blame it on my hormones.

SIDE NOTES — hi there, this is a result of me going feral in this new season. English's not my first language, so please be kind, any mistake it's my own fault sorry in advance. Hate this mf but wont deny I wouldn't fuck him to calm him down. Please interact if you like this, reblogs, comments, likes, all means a lot to me!

The smell is under your nose.

At first it didn’t bother you to feel the warmth of it, you’re not disgusted by blood. But it’s everywhere. Fucking everywhere. Sticking in your face, staining your damn suit, pooling beneath your feet.

You can feel your own breathing, yet, you're numb to everything else. The screams of terror and the sudden silence of the killing are now something similar as a long-time-ago memory, a distant thought you cannot bring yourself to care about.

And when you came out of the elevator, you don't care about the other people looking at you either. The Vought personal that were always running in the floor, Ashley, or fucking Noir at the matter thinking you're Carrie or something, no one dares to talk to you even when you’re a mere sidekick, too afraid of your explosive personality to even demand to know what happened.

It's almost like you asked for it, to be left alone, to not deal with anyone but your own judgment.

So when you cross the hallway to your dormitory dreaming about a warm shower, you don't expect to see him inside, your relationship with Homelander being too sporadic to even catalog it as one. Yet he's there like it's his house, and you're too tired to even ask why he's there in the first place.

"There you are," he says, but you hear his voice like he's talking miles away from you instead of the couch where he really is. "Something was telling me you were having a rough day."

"Don't remember anything about inviting you to my room" he doesn't care about your tone as he walks closer to you, usually, when he speaks, he only seem to listen to himself. "Didn’t give you a key."

He's oblivious at your words, instead, he seems to be too lost in his own way of seeing things, just waiting for you to say something similar to what you’ve already said in his mind. To admit something like you missed him all day long, that you've been thinking about him as much as he's thinking about you, to fed his ego like only you can do after only a few times of sharing intimacy.

The air is thick, making it harder to breathe as he plants himself in front of you, blue eyes scanning your face as his fingers touched your hair, toying with the strands glued together with blood — Even if it’s gross, he don’t seemed moved by it, mainly, you think, because he’s been through the same too.

"Don't need a key to show up," he laughs like it's obvious, and you look at him like he's having a rougher time than you. "This is my building."

It's almost a reminder for you, that you're living under his roof and have a place on his team because he just wants to. Even when you always do the dirty job no one dares to do, if you save his ass more times you can count, he still remarks you’re living in his world.

“I know,” you fight the need to roll your eyes to the back of your head while responding. It’s something you remind yourself sometimes, how most of them are just plain stupid, always treating you like you were no better than fucking Deep.

The stink under your nose is annoying and your skin feels sticky at the touch so you’re almost begging for just ten minutes of privacy.

“I just missed you” he says in a low voice, almost ashamed of admitting something he would never even dare to say out loud, a sudden verge of vulnerability, strange raw honesty as he looks at you. “Didn’t you miss me too?”

You know the only way of really control him, how to make him do exactly what you want to do, so you let him. Let him act all needy and weird cause you want John wrapped around your finger, unable to think on his own. You want him to believe, whole-heartedly, that in the end he’s the one coming up with the great ideas when it's you every single time.

You don’t find it cruel, he’s the same with you and he deserves it, so when Homelander bites his middle finger to grab the fabric of his gloves and pull it off, you let him touch you, treat you like this lost-dove-in-trouble he loves to see — “Had an awful day. Just wanted to see you,” like that. The correct combination of words and he looks like he got fucking shot by a celestial force, mesmerized. “Always missing you, babe.”

He’s sold by the moment, that tone you use, that little nickname that gets him, the sound of your heartbeat slightly faster than before, not enough to catch you lying, but enough to show you’re indeed, happy to see him as well.

He's pleased, so the next is unexpected to say the least, and you hate every second of it when he carries you like you two are married or something similar, sitting in the sofa with you on his lap.

“What are you-”

He shushes you, and you cannot finish what you’re saying when he pulls you to his chest, the fabric of his suit against your cheek as he, weirdly enough, hugged you close, the sound of his heartbeat instead, loud against your ear as you can feel him breathing beneath you, an steady rhythm as the silence filled the room. It's weird sometimes, to think he's human as well before the compound V.

“Comforting you,” he says in a low voice. His bare hand now grabbing your tight enough to bury his fingers in the covered skin, squeezing it lightly as first, nothing you cannot control. And it's beyond doubt what he truly wants, the way his nose inhales the scent of your body like it's fuel, the blood mixing with your fragrance — "M' here now."

He likes it almost more than his own smell. Almost is the key, cause he cannot help but wish you'd stink like him after waking up next to him that very same day. The thought wakes something new in the alleged superhero, something that stings in his stomach, plaguing his mind with the thought of getting all that he wants, to mark you as his property as he has done before.

He cannot get enough. Of course he can't, he's used to have it all now, to never ask but take. That's why he bites your shoulder, why he didn't mind getting his hands dirty with you and your sticky suit, why he's not grossed out by anything, but instead, turned on by how much you needed him.

But in reality it's the other way around, cause Homelander's the one that pulls you closer, that kisses you like you're something heavenly, just like he is. He's not gentle, yet he knows you like it that way, that you're into that rough force he's used to and would kill any normal person in result.

"Who let you go on that mission on your own, huh?" He asks, concentrated in your suit, pulling it down slightly just to reveal the naked skin under the fabric, clean skin in contrast of all the red. "Seems like they all forgot we're supposed to work together."

You don't get why it feels so nice at first, why the hand on your hip moves through your body like you need some kind of reassurance after all you went through the day.

"I'm okay" you manage to say, the pure need to remind him you're good enough to make things on your own, some kind of memo that explains clearly that you want the same benefits he has. It's useless however, when he has you like that, making you tilt your head to the side, placing random bites in any sight of exposed flesh.

"You're hurt" he says, making you aware of your own body as he presses one hand against the injury on the side of your ribs. He's fucking sick for it, and it doesn't give you any time to react when his fingertips are pushing against the cut, your suit staining with your own blood as you mewl on top of him. "Clearly hurt."

He's drunk on depravity, lost on the face you make when the pain hits you all sudden, stealing the air from your lungs. He's suddenly hard beneath you and his hand's now rest on your hip making you move on top of him, hungry for anything he can get out of you, any little sound you make so focused on keeping quiet, trying so hard to not to fed on his bullshit.

The friction is unbearable, the fresh blood coming out of your now-opened wound, the slight force he uses to tear your suit apart like its nothing, giving him more space to work with as he seemed desperate to have you close. It takes you far from where you were first, the numb feeling that grew like a parasite your stomach swallowing it all, now instead, too sensitive to his touch.

Yes. You hate him for it, hate that it's too easy for him, the traumatized hero with too many issues, the world's strongest man that somehow manages to make a mess out of you just with something so simple as sitting on his lap.

He's so pleased when you moan, when you say his name and you forgot about mannerisms, he needs to pull out his other glove in response as his blonde hair falls over his face, throwing it to the floor as his bare hand is now able to rip apart your suit effortless. The warmth of his palm cups your now bare breast for him, and he leans into your chest, tongue flickering in circles over your nipple as you let out a strangled moan.

"Common, need you to use your words here," he demands for a moment, almost annoyed as you can see the traces of saliva that connected you to his mouth: Why does he look so good? Fucker. "Cause if you don’t stop me now I’ll reduce your suit to ashes.”

“Don’t care,” you know Ashley’s going to be pissed, yet it's not enough to say anything about it. "Fucking hate the suit anyway."

"Such a dirty mouth" you're tugging his hair, hand on your kneecap pulling it slightly to the side as he forces you to open your legs for him. "What can I do with you?"

There it is, the ripped sound of his hands tearing the rest of the fabric apart, the pliable desperation in his touch, grabbing, kissing, and palming the curves of your body as it's holy terrain, unstudied land. He's caught in the smell of your skin finally mixing with his, the way your hips grinded in need for a deeper contact.

He laughs at you, laughs at that sight of defeat when he finally slides the hand that was on your knee under the ripped leavings of your now-destroyed suit. Of course he fucking loves the way you're speechless all thanks to his efforts, that you're unable to keep still as you straddle him now confident he's not repulsed by your dirty nature.

"Did you get turned on by killing?" He asks, and you try to respond something like he's clearly dumb. "Been smelling you since you've got here. All wet, covered in blood."

He's far from lazering you, but you can feel the weight of his gaze almost trespassing you when his hand finally reaches that nice spot between your legs and feels your drenched underwear beneath his fingertips. He can feel it all, and you are aware of it.

He's driven by the sounds of your heartbeat, the way your skin glimmers with sweat, he knows you're enjoying every second of it, his fingertips fondling on top of the cloth moments before pulling it to side. The warm contact with your cunt is enough to make him lose it, enough to make him succumb beneath you as he explores the folds of your aching core, his other hand holding your hip just to keep you in place.

John seems to forget, always does. Cause his grip turns beyond bruising and you can hear the crack when he moves you against his hand, a new broken bone to added to the list as he's unaware to the sound it produces, the pain that makes you shake violently blending immediately with pleasure.

You can take it. You're tough and a big girl who's taken worse, so you don't whine about it knowing you must be healing already, instead, you let yourself be trapped in that haze he created, the sounds of your sex when he hits that very spot you overly-enjoy, digits slightly curving inside as he’s experiencing the velvety feeling of your walls colliding against his hand.

"That's it, keep the show for me.” He loves praising so much since you told him he’s doing good one time, he needs to do the same for you at the first chance he got while you offered yourself to him, riding his fingers. “Such a good slut.”

He’s concentrated in the way his fingers disappear inside of you, the intense smell of blood and sex that now fills the air as you moan out his name, the red droplets in your face much like freckles, far more wicked than pure marks on your skin.

“So nice, so warm,” he says to himself, the slick sound of your arousal filling the room, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your chest as he marks your skin like you’re all his.

He’s sure he’s alleviating your problems, sure he’s making you feel so much better, thumb tracing circles in your swollen bud as he stole cries of pleasure from your parted lips.

You don’t let him know you’re close but he can sense it, the slight change in your breathing each time more erratic, your heartbeats quickening their pace as you got closer to the edge.

And when you really finish, when you’re done riding your high, you grab the remains of your teared suit and look at him with that damn smile he loves. You know he’s expecting to receive anything back, any favor you’re willing to give in return.

But instead, when you got off his lap, you just caress his cheek gently before saying — “See you later, John? Kind of busy now.”

my masterlist

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Player 001 saving us from Thanos? 🥺🥺🥺

Of course! <3 Ngl I enjoyed it, he was so scared of In-ho afterwards lmfao.

What did you say?

Squid Game masterlist

Hwang In-ho/Frontman/Player001 x fem!reader

Cw/triggers: Thanos getting his lesson taught, mature themes, mild violence(?), slightly different from how it went in the series.

"Hello Señorita, if you want to live through the next game, you should join me and my friend." Came Thanos' voice behind you as he sauntered in front of you. "I like you." he almost sing sang, making the finger heart.

Player 124 better known as his stupid friend Nam-gyu stepped beside him, resting his arm on Thanos' shoulder.

"No," you took one step back "I don't wanna join you."

Thanos scoffed, not taking your rejection lightly. "What? You're seriously not considering about joining those losers over there, right?" he gestured over your shoulder, where Gi-hun, Young-il, Dae-ho and Jung-bae were sitting on the steps talking to eachother.

But unbeknown to you, Young-il had his eyes on you, seeing your obvious denial in joining Thanos.

"They're not losers, they're my friends."

Thanos raised an eyebrow, acting surprised. "Oh? Your friends?" he laughed, then leaned closer to you. "All I'm seeing there are three old men and a wannabe Marine with anxiety." he taunted, waving his hands as if mocking Dae-ho personally.

"Don't call them that, fucking junky." You tried defending but Thanos reached out, gripping your shoulder.

Thanos tightened his grip almost painfully. "You should really join us, and while you're at it, in the next vote press O instead X." he looked down at the red X opposite from your player number, making a disgusted face.

Thanos looked over your shoulder, noticing Player 001 standing up, making his way towards them. He did not look pleased.

"Hey," he said, making Thanos loosen his grip and you stepping to the side. "I've had enough disrespectfulness coming from you, where are your manners?"

Nam-gyu snorted, nudging Thanos with his elbow, who scrutinized Player 001. "Manners? What are we? Kids?"

You walked behind Young-il, heading back to the others who were watching the scene unfold.

Young-il stopped. "It's disrespectful towards her, can't you take a no?"

"Listen dude, why don't you worry about your wife at home instead of a random player in here?" Thanos said, making his way over to Young-il until he was at arms reach.

"What did you say?" Young-il asked, his voice was calm but the rage in it could easily be heard.

"I said, go back to your fucking wi-"

Thanos couldn't finish his sentence when Young-il swiftly reached out, grabbing the back of his neck. Thanos winced in his grip, and Nam-gyu quickly came to aid Thanos.

"Hey you motherf-"

Young-il easily kicked Nam-gyu's shin twice, making him cry out in pain and fall to the ground, clutching his leg.

Thanos tried punching Young-il but he expertedly evaded, punching him in the gut, making him double over in pain.

"Wait a sec." Thanos pleaded, reaching out his hand but Young-il simply grabbed it, twisted in painfully until Thanos groaned in pain and fell on the ground.

Young-il crouched down, immediately gripping Thanos' throat, choking him out.

"I'm sorry man... please..." Thanos coughed, his face was already starting to get purple.

But Young-il kept his harsh grip, showing no signs of stopping...

Until he was snapped out of it by hearing your soft voice.

"Young-il..."

Young-il gave in, slowly letting Thanos go, leaving him to cough miserable on the ground as he straightened up. Then he turned towards you as everybody around started cheering and clapping for Young-il's bravery.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice was still rough from the fight, but he had a small smile on his face and his eyes softened.

You gave a weak smile in return. "I am. Thanks. But you shouldn't have–"

Young-il cut you off with a small wave. "It's nothing, I just value respect which those guys clearly don't have."

"You have a good heart, Young-il." You praised him genuinely.

His smile grew softer, he made his way to you, patting your shoulder and walking you back to the group.

"Thank you, it really means alot." Young-il gave your shoulder a soft squeeze before sitting down beside you.

Meanwhile Dae-ho whispered to Jung-bae

"Where did he learn that?"

"Ex-marines maybe?"

"Oh."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

[enchanted-by-fae]

One Day - Azriel x Reader

Part 3

Pairing: Azriel x Hewn City!Reader

Summary: How Azriel felt during the party the other night. The two of you marry.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, angst, fluff, they're both kinda idiots ngl

3.1k words

A/N: Thank you so much lovelies for all of the support! I hope you enjoy this part, it's a doozy.

Part 1 Part 2

Azriel couldn’t help but stare at you when you weren’t looking. There she was, the female he would be marrying in two days time. You were standing across the room speaking to party goers, nobody he recognized. He couldn’t help but admire the way you spoke to them with a gentle smile gracing your face. When you walked into the ballroom with Rhysand just a few hours ago only one thought had come to his mind. You were without a doubt the most enchanting female he had ever laid his eyes on.

—

Before the party, Rhysand sat Azriel down in his chambers to have a discussion about his behavior.

“I swear to the Mother Azriel, you will not be cruel to this girl,” his brother scolded. Azriel couldn’t help but let out a scoff, “don’t scoff at me. I mean it, Az. She didn’t sign up for this either.” 

Azriel obviously knew that you weren’t the one who put the marriage together but he couldn’t help but feel a slight resentment since he only imagined himself married to his mate. The only thing holding him together right now was the deal he made with Rhys. He prayed to the Mother that he would meet his mate soon. He would’ve felt guilty leaving you to be with his mate after years of marriage.

“I’m not going to be mean to her, Rhys,” Azriel said through a sigh. “Can’t you just trust me?”

“That's the thing Az, I do trust you but,” Rhysand shook his head trying to come up with the right words. “After the whole Elain situation…” Rhys let out a sound of exasperation “you’ve become desperate, brother.” Now Az was really irritated.

Was he jealous of his brothers? Of course he was. Although he would never admit it out loud, he was ready to find his mate. He couldn’t understand how his two brothers were able to find their mates and he was the only one left.

If he was being completely honest he was hung up on Elain, the third Archeron sister. He had a silly notion that they must be fated, three sisters for three brothers. She was already mated, however, to Lucien. Azriel didn’t really have much against Lucien as a male, he seemed decent enough except for the fact he had the one thing Az wanted.

Last Winter Solstice he bought Elain a necklace. It was as beautiful as the female herself and she had loved it, to Azriel’s relief. She had immediately asked him to put it on her and it quickly turned into a heated moment between the two. Nothing had actually transpired except for a few innocent touches. Rhysand interrupted them before Az had the chance to kiss her. His brother called him into his office and gave him the reprimand of the century. 

Rhys had ordered him to back off of Elain or else Lucien could invoke a blood duel and his brother was not ready to go to war with the Autumn Court over this. Beron was a pain in his ass as it was, he did not need Lucien's death added to the problems. And Lucien would die. Azriel was someone to fear when it came down to a fight, it didn’t matter how good his opponent was. 

Azriel stayed pissed at Rhysand for a while after that. He did as his High Lord commanded and he distanced himself from Elain. She was now off living happily ever after with her mate. And now his brother was forcing him into a marriage. 

Tonight he was to meet you for the first time. Rhys had the oh so brilliant idea to host a party where the two of you could officially meet, hoping to make the actual wedding “less awkward”. Azriel thought that either way it would be awkward, it was an arranged marriage for the Cauldrons sake. 

Azriel glared at his brother as he continued to drone on and on about how he must “behave” himself. Finally, Rhysand finished monologuing which made Azriel send a silent thank you to the Mother.

“I’m going to her chambers to escort her to the party. I expect you to be there, ready to offer her a dance when we arrive. A smile wouldn’t be so bad either,” Rhysand then turned and left the room. Azriel was happy to be alone. He always valued his time to himself, it helped ground him. 

He moved to begin getting dressed for the party. Rhysand had requested that he forgo his usual Illyrian fighting leathers. Azriel opened his wardrobe and found a black jerkin that he’s pretty sure he’s only actually worn once before. 

He was able to get himself put together relatively quickly considering he wasn’t used to this style of dress. He looked at himself briefly in the mirror just to make sure everything looked alright. Shutting his eyes and taking one deep breath, Azriel centered himself. He reopened his eyes and walked out of his room to go meet the very female he would be marrying.

—

Azriel arrived at the opulent ballroom where the party was to be held. The first he noticed was how many people there already were. He was relieved to find that Rhysand wasn’t there yet, which meant you weren’t either. 

Azriel spotted Cassian, Nesta, and Mor all talking in a spot by the wall but the second he went to join them he felt a strange sensation. Soon it seemed as though his shadows were in agreement, swarming him to tell him to stay put. Just a moment later was when the doors opened again, revealing Rhysand and possibly the most gorgeous female he had ever seen. No, not “possibly”. He knew you were the most gorgeous female he’d seen. 

Wearing a shocking pale blue, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Azriel wasn’t sure if you were aware of the fact blue was his favorite color but he knew it flattered you nicely. The shade was unique too. It wasn’t one you saw in the night court too often, and this definitely remained true in Hewn City. Practically nobody here wore anything this light in color. He mentally praised your individuality. 

Your arm was linked to Rhysands as his brother escorted you over to him. His shadows were all over him now whispering in his ear “calm yourself”. They were right, he needed to get a grip. As you made your way over to him he was able to ground himself once more.

When they reached him Rhysand let go of your arm and gestured his arm towards Azriel, “Y/N meet Azriel.” Az tried his absolute hardest to remain cool. He had heard your name before but it was just registering to him how lovely it was. It seemed to fit you perfectly.

Rhysand then moved his arm towards you, “Azriel meet Y/N.”

Azriel plastered on his usual mask of “not giving a fuck” and gives you a gentlemanly bow, you giving a curtsy in return. He rises and returns to his normal height. Mother above he towers over you. He offers out a hand towards you, “a dance, my lady?” Azriel stands there for a moment as you stare at him. If he’s being honest, he didn’t hate it. He left his hand out for you to take while you were transfixed on studying him. He sees you glance down towards his hand and he follows the movement.

Fuck, he thinks to himself. He forgot to put on his gloves. You were looking at the scars plastering his hands. Azriel rarely forgot his gloves, especially when in public. He would ditch them every now and then when he was with his family, but almost the entire population of the Hewn City was here. 

He assumed your hesitance meant that you weren’t interested in dancing with him. He didn’t know how you’d feel touching his scarred hands. As he awkwardly looked away, he began to pull back his hand. He had barely moved when he felt your hand grab his. “I would love to,” you spoke so gently. Azriel couldn’t help but love the sound of your voice. He knew that he needed to protect you at all costs at that moment. You were too lovely to allow anything bad to happen to you. 

He couldn’t find words in that moment so instead he just led you to dance. As the two of you walked to the dance flood he couldn’t help but notice just how nervous you truly were. He keeps his hand on yours but he places the free one on your waist and you move yours to his shoulder. The two of you were as close as you could be in that moment. 

Your nerves were honestly making him worried so, as gently as he could he whispered “just look at me, ok?” You gave him the tiniest nod and he began to lead you into a waltz. That’s when he remembered Rhysands other instruction, smile. He offered up just the smallest smile. One meant only for you. He had to keep up his badass image afterall. The Hewn City knowing the Shadowsinger smiles? Not a good look. 

He could feel you relax the more the dance went on. Soon, he found that the smile he gave you was one he genuinely wanted to share. He felt as though he could be himself when close to you. The way you looked at him, he wanted you to look like that forever. 

No. This is wrong, he thought to himself. He couldn’t be doing this to you. He had a mate out there somewhere. A mate he was ready to be with the moment he found them. Azriel didn’t want you to get attached to him. Or rather, he didn’t want to get attached to you.

The waltz ended and he gave you a closing bow and you followed with another curtsy. Azriel quickly leans into your ear, “thanks for the dance,” he whispers. He had to get some distance. He has a mate waiting, he reminded himself over and over again as Azriel stalked off the dance floor. He felt like an ass for leaving you like that. But he couldn’t let you care for him. It would just make things harder. 

Throughout the evening he couldn’t help himself, taking quick glances at you whenever he could. Cauldron boil him, you were stunning. He made sure to make each look quick so you wouldn’t catch him staring like some creep. 

He was in conversation with Mor and Nesta when he felt eyes on him. He knew it was you, even without his shadows informing him. In that moment he decided to fuck it and meet your eyes one more time. He found you instantly. Azriel couldn’t help himself as he gave you just one more, barely imperceptible smile and went back to his conversation. Only being able to think of you for the rest of the evening, stealing glances whenever he could.

—

A loud knock on the door woke you from your slumber. You knew the day would be busy with people coming and going, it was your wedding day afterall. 

“Miss Y/N? We’re here to help you dress,” a maid called out. You quickly stretched and crawled out of bed. You weren’t typically an early riser but the ceremony was this afternoon, not allowing for much time to get ready. Finding the dressing gown you kept close to your bed, you shrugged it on and made your way over to the door. 

Opening the door, a cluster of maids made their way into the room. They carried in everything you’d be needing. Makeup, shoes, the veil, and your dress. The dress was glorious. It was long and flowing, sitting just off your shoulders with sheer sleeves. Your favorite part though was the bodice, which was adorned with a beautiful pattern of gold stars. It almost made you excited to be getting married.

As you sat at the vanity to have your makeup and hair styled you found yourself deep in your thoughts. Thoughts of Azriel. You would think the fact you found yourself so attracted to the man that would be your husband is a good thing. Unfortunately, after he left you to be with his friends at the party the other night you just became more anxious to marry him.

You only made eye contact with him once after you danced. It seemed he didn’t feel the same connection to you that you had with him. You did your best to make peace with that fact, not wanting to make things more awkward between the two of you. No matter how hard you tried though, you found yourself dreaming that he would one day share the affection you held for him. 

Your maids finished getting your hair and makeup done, helping you out of your seat and into the dress. If you thought it was stunning before, it was even more so while on you. They ushered you over to a mirror so you could see yourself as the veil was added to complete your look. You looked like the perfect Night Court bride. 

That was when another knock was rapped on the door. One of the maids went to see who was at the door. This time it was your mother and father. Somehow the time had flown by and the ceremony would be starting. 

“Hello, dear,” your mother greeted, making her way to you as your father followed behind. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

You pondered her question momentarily before answering, “fine, I suppose. It’s not exactly an ideal situation though,” you lament. 

“You’re a strong female, you’ll do well,” your father chimes in. He takes your arm, linking it through his. Your mother repeats the action on your other side. “We’ll walk you there together,” he continues.

There was something beautiful in your parents' marriage. While in public, they acted as any other married couple would in the Hewn City. But, while in the privacy of your family's apartments they were quite affectionate with each other. It wasn’t until after they married when they discovered they were mates. Their love story was one that always charmed you as a child. You grew up wishing for someone to care for you the way your father loved your mother. They had an arranged marriage too, afterall. Perhaps someday, you and Azriel could be like that for each other.

You look between your parents and they each offer you a reassuring grin before they lead you to the temple where the ceremony is to be held. When you arrived your mother let go of your arm to head inside alone. As per tradition, your father would be the one to walk you down the aisle. She gave you a final hug and went to find her seat.

“It’ll be just fine,” your father insisted. He was never this open with how he felt towards you, it was comforting in a way. It must’ve been because tonight you’d be leaving to live with Azriel. You gave him a smile of your own and the doors opened.

—

As soon as the doors opened to reveal your figure standing there with your father the organ player began their serenade. Your father began to walk, starting the descent down the aisle. All the fae in attendance stood in that moment. They watched as you gracefully walked side-by-side with your father. 

You hadn’t looked up yet, at Azriel. You found yourself anxiety-ridden with meeting his eyes again. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you wanted his approval and you weren’t sure if you’d receive it from him. While the two of you danced the other night, you could’ve sworn you felt something. A pull. He clearly hadn’t felt the same. 

You could sense the end of the aisle approaching and only then was it when you looked up. There he was, the male you couldn’t help but fantasize over. And in half an hour he would be your husband. 

He looked so handsome standing there. He was wearing a similar outfit to the one he wore the other night but this one had an intricate pattern embroidered on it. The closer you got you realized what the pattern was, as it was the same golden pattern on your dress. Golden stars decorated his lapels. You had no idea if he chose it himself or if someone had coordinated the matching set, but it made your heart flutter. 

Fully reaching Azriel now, your father let go of your arm to shake his hand. You just stood there, watching the interaction before Azriel offered his arm to you. He was wearing gloves today. You still didn’t fully understand your feelings about the matter, or him, but you never wanted to see his hands covered again. 

You took his arm and he led you the rest of the way to where the priestess stood. “We gather today in celebration of these two fae,” she began. Now that you were truly here, being married, you couldn’t help the queasy feeling you had. It wasn’t because of Azriel necessarily, but just how different your life would be. 

“Do you, Azriel,” the priestess turned towards the male standing beside you, “promise to have and to hold Y/N, to cherish and take care of, until death do you part?”

“I do,” he said with a rather casual tone.

The priestess turned towards you now, “Do you, Y/N promise to have and to hold Azriel, to cherish and take care of, until death do you part?”

Taking a deep breath, “I do,” you muttered.

The priestess smiled at you both, “then I pronounce you husband and wife, may the Mother bless you,” she proclaimed, turning towards Azriel again, “you may kiss the bride.”

You could feel Azriel go rigid beside you. The first kiss was something that had escaped your mind entirely. The entire part after the ceremony escaped your mind if you were being truthful.

You could hear him take a deep breath before turning to face you, the same moment you turned to face him as well. He softly cupped your cheek in his hand before leaning in. You closed your eyes as his lips met yours. 

The kiss was sweet. He was gentle, cradling your face like it was made of porcelain. And you couldn’t help but crave more. Almost too soon, he was pulling away. You opened your eyes and that’s when it snapped.

You instantly recognized the golden thread of the mating bond pulling you back towards him.

-

Tag list:

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[cazshmere]

Synastry Observations Pt. 3 🌊

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!! 🦂

🐚 in my opinion, moon opposite mars synastry can be SO MUCH better than moon conjuct mars. with moon conjunct mars, the energy gets WAY too intense (sexual energy or just the normal vibe between the two) and to some extent it is exciting and when it’s good it’s REALLY good but when its bad its EXPLOSIVE. whereas the opposition offers a more balanced approach to the relationship. It’s not ON THE FACE typa energy but rather HMMM there’s something interesting about you and i NEED to know you🤨😋

🐚 i mentioned in my favorite synastry placement post, how I loved mars in the 1st house synastry and I TAKE IT BACK lmao😭😂. This synastry is sooo triggering for no reason, mars person and house person CANNOT help but argue or fight for the silliest things. A lot of heated arguments and with 1st house synastry these arguments could happen in public too💀 and everyone else around is like “omg y’all fr need to chill ✋🏽😐”. Very intense energy again

🐚 6th house synastry IS SO CUTE. you KNOW you can surely rely on people you share this synastry with (especially sun, moon and venus). it’s the “let me help you out with that” or “do you wanna go to the gym together?” or “omg let’s go and check out the new air fryer they’re selling”😭🫶🏻. you literally don’t need a special occasion or outing just to have fun with them. doing mundane tasks can also seem so exciting and refreshing if it’s with them🥺

🐚 (18+) mars/venus/pluto in the 6th house synastry could indicate that y’all NEED to do the deed daily 😭

🐚 another SUPER underrated synastry placement is moon - uranus synastry (trine, sextile and conjunction to some extent). this is the typa synastry where you can say the most random shit and the other person is like “omg fr i totally agree” and then y’all start laughing at something silly 😭, it’s SO CUTE

🐚 lilith square venus synastry is confusing ngl, it has a very push and pull type of energy, especially from the lilith person’s side. It’s like the lilith person wants the venus person BUT they also don’t want the venus person to know that they want them yk😭💀?? lilith person wants the control and letting the venus person know they might be interested in them is potentially the lilith person letting their guard down and not having the entire control to themselves so they altogether avoid fully committing and just want to keep the venus person guessing 😐

🐚 mars - saturn synastry has some WEIRD sexual tension to it. it’s like y’all both know you want it so bad but there’s something stopping you from acting on it😭, delayed gratification i suppose?😌

🐚 venus conjunct ascendant does not guarantee that both the parties will fall head over heels for each other. mostly the ascendant person ends up catching feelings QUICK and the venus person could just find the ascendant person attractive and not anything more than than. in any case the house person is the one who falls hard for the venus person (most of the scenarios I’ve seen irl, played out this way). but nonetheless both find each other EXTREMELY attractive FOR SURE ❤️‍🔥

🐚 sun in the 11th house synastry 🤝🏻 ALWAYS HAVING FUN TOGETHER no matter what😋

🐚 when earth house (2nd, 6th, and 10th) synastry is involved, you'll most definitely care about making a good impression and will think carefully before speaking or acting because you don’t want the other person to think badly of you 🍀

🐚 conversely with fire house (1st, 5th,9th) synastry you don’t really care AS much and are easily able to express your feelings more openly without the fear of judgment 🤪

🐚 water house (4th, 8th, and 12th) synastry is like a blend of both earth and fire house synastry. you do care about what the other person thinks of you, but not so much that you keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself. at first, you might be cautious about sharing your feelings, but then you realize how much the other person just gets you, and eventually, you bond over some extremely random yet specific situations you've both experienced 😭

🐚 water house synastry culture can literally be crying together and comforting each other during and after🥺

🐚 honestly gemini placements are such LOYAL and loving partners and are wholeheartedly committed when they are in a relationship, i hate when i read posts that say “gemini placements are cheaters/ afraid of commitment” blah blah, have you ever seen a gemini placement in love? literally the most devoted and supportive lovers fr🫶🏻

banner/pic credits to the rightful owners

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part three)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, fighting (verbal).

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: idk yall, this kinda ate ngl. I’m so proud of this and I really hope you all enjoy it as much as I did! <3 also I’m sorry to all the Pedro girlies…I had to. 

part three: uninvited

The past few days seemed to drag on slower than you wished they had. The rest of your time in London was spent doing various interviews centered around your upcoming album release and Ashley dragged you around to every possible tourist attraction around. It was all rather mundane- every interview was the same and every attraction too crowded for your liking. You were being a grump but you were tired and anxious. All the hype around your sophomore album delighted you, truly it did, but the doubts always took up more space in your mind than you cared to admit. With this album, you took a lot of inspiration from the pop girlies of the early 2000s, Britney being the biggest influence. You allowed yourself to explore your sexuality and true self. The songs were erotic in the best way and in just a few weeks, everyone would have access to that side of you. The image you’d been portraying wasn’t that of a ‘soft good girl’ per say but you hadn’t been this open and honest before. It was terrifying. 

You landed at LAX around two in the morning, giving you a few hours of sleep before your 11am meeting. This was one of those times you didn’t mind using the perks of your fame. You had a car waiting to pick Ashley and yourself  up to take you straight home, allowing both of you to get some sleep as the driver fought through the airport traffic. The moment you reached your small house, you threw your luggage across the living room and dropped face down into the couch, falling back into a deep sleep with Ashley right next to you. When your alarms go off at nine am, you’re banging your head into the couch cushions, the seven hours of sleep feeling like a blink. You roll slightly allowing yourself to fall the short distance from the couch onto the floor. “Ow…” You mumble, rubbing the back of your head. Dragging yourself up, you sluggishly made your way to the bathroom to take a quick shower. It was something you should have done last night. Just thinking about all the germs sitting on your body right now made a quick chill of disgust roll down your spine. You heavily disliked sleeping in your ‘outside clothes’ but the tiredness beat the cleanliness last night. 

Sweat pants and a hoodie weren’t exactly meeting appropriate but it wasn’t anything serious, just a little gathering to figure out some last minute details for the album listening party being thrown for your friends and family. You didn’t want it to be a huge deal but your label saw it as a marketing opportunity. If it were up to you, it would be a simple get together at your house but they insisted on it being at some club that would have paparazzi waiting to take pictures. You aren’t even sure why you're needed at the meeting because your input wasn’t even being considered, you just sat and gave the ‘stamp of approval’. Ashley was still knocked out when you walked to your kitchen to grab a small breakfast- a protein yogurt and some apple slices. You’d much prefer french toast but your trainer has been onto you about your diet with a tour coming up. You needed to be in good shape to dance and sing at the same time, it was ridiculous how hard it was. 

“Hey Ash, imma head out, i’ll be back soon.” You shake her shoulder lighty. She opens her eyes to some degree and mutters, what sounded like, an ‘okay’. You sighed as you started the engine to your 2000 green Toyota Corolla. It had been making a funny noise before your trip overseas that you had forgotten all about it. A lot of your newer, richer, friends have made fun of your car but you couldn’t find reason to part with it. It still ran and got you where you needed to be. You loved your fugly little car. The car ride was surprisingly short, traffic light. Pulling into the office parking lot, you sent a quick text to Stacy. 

You: please tell me you’re here already 😭

Stacypoo <33: I am. 4th floor, take a right. I’ll wait in the hall for you. 

You sent a thumbs up and made your way to the front doors. The elevator ride was quick, luckily you were the only one in there, saving you from making any awkward small talk with some random person. You were too tired to keep up your friendly demeanor. Stacy was standing outside of an office door when you first saw her. Giving quick hellos, she motioned you into the room. 

“How long do you think they’ll have us sitting here this time?” You ask jokingly. You’ve made yourself as comfortable as possible in the cheap plastic chair with a thin cushion on the seat. With your elbows propped up on the table, your head sat heavy with both hands holding up your cheeks. 

She lets out a snort before responding. “Who knows. I swear these people make us wait on purpose as some kind of power move.” 

Stacy had left London a day before you had. The moment your last interview was over, she was jumping on the first flight back home. She looked well rested and put together. You envied her ability to bounce back into routine so quickly. The two of you filled the small room with back and forth conversation about the day in London she had missed. Three people from your management/ label came tumbling in fifteen minutes later. As you suspected, you were doing a whole lot of nothing. 

“The team we hired are allowed to go into the club at noon to start decorating and the party will start at 10pm.” One of the people spoke, you think his name is Mark, but you aren’t completely sure. 

“Will y/n need to be there at a certain time or is 10 fine?” Stacy asks. 

“She can show up at ten but she won’t be in the main room until 10:30 so she can give a speech and introduce the album.” Stacy gives a nod and types that into her laptop. You didn’t like the idea of giving a speech. 

“Okay, let's go over the guest list one more time and then we can wrap this up.” Mark, you think, says. You’re paying closer attention now, they hand you a list and you skim it. There's a lot of names of people who you consider more of an acquaintance than a friend but you can’t really uninvite them. 

“Um, can I actually add two more people to this list?” You ask and Mark nods. Stacy is giving you a questioning look. 

“Can you add Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman? I um.. I met them the other day and they said they were fans. It would be cool to have them there.” You smile and from the corner of your eye, you can see Stacy pursing her lips, trying to hold back a laugh. One of the other people in the room, not Mark, adds their names to the guest list. Stacy and Mark talk for a few more minutes before the meeting is coming to a close. Once Stacy and yourself are enclosed in the elevator, she’s looking over at you with a lopsided grin, shaking her head slowly. 

“What?” You give her a small chuckle, feeling extra giddy. 

“You're unbelievable. Why even extend the invite to Mr. Reynolds when all you want is to see Huge Jackman.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at the play on Hugh’s name. 

“So not true. They like my music, why not invite them to hear the album before anyone else?” You deny her accusations. 

“Whatever you say y/n.” She drags out the ‘ever’ a little too long to emphasize just how much she doesn’t believe a word you say. The elevator is opening and the walk to the parking lot is silent. Stacy bids you goodbye and says that she would be in touch soon before she’s walking away. 

“Wait! Stacy!” You call out to her and she’s turning back to you.  “I need you to track down Hugh’s number, I want to personally invite him.” You smirk and she’s just shaking her head in a joking manner. 

“Byeee Stacypoooo!” 

—

When you got home, Ashley was awake and watching tv on your couch. You sat with her and talked about everything you had learned at the meeting. She was more excited for the event than you were, it was her type of scene. You knew you'd end up having fun once you were there but you were nervous. You might have left out the fact that you had invited Ryan and Hugh as last minute guests- it was something she could find out the day of if they showed up. She left not too long after, leaving you to pick up your home a little bit. You cleaned it pretty thoroughly before leaving the country but you felt a little overwhelmed by the unpacked luggage that sat in the middle of your living room floor. You packed too much clothing for the short trip, a lot of what was in the suitcase never even got worn. You decided to throw it all in the washer anyway. Dirtys clothes touching clean clothes makes them all dirty in your mind. In the middle of moving your laundry into the washing machine, your phone quacked signaling that Stacy had messaged you. She earned her own notification sound after the endless mixed texts and calls over the first few months of her working for you. It was a terrible habit you had, not answering your phone, but you usually paid attention to it when you were expecting contact. You pressed start on the machine and sauntered over to the kitchen counter your phone sat on. 

Stacypoo <33: the deed is done…have fun loser 

There was a second text that contained a number to which you assumed was Hugh’s. You smiled brightly as you texted Stacy a quick ‘thank you, love you’ text with a million heart emojis. You wasted no time, immediately creating contact for the man you were so eager to see again. 

You: hey hugh, it’s y/n! my label is throwing a listening party for my album that’s coming out soon and I thought it would be really cool if you were there. no pressure to come if you don’t want to but it’s on september 14th at Disco Lights at 10pm. 😊💕

You hit send, put your phone back on the counter, and ran across your house, needing to be as far away from the device as possible. Keeping yourself busy was probably your best option right now, so that’s what you did. You continued where you left off by putting your suitcases back into the storage closet in your hallway. Living alone made you realize how neat of a person you were. Back home it felt like you were constantly cleaning but you didn’t have to do as much in your own home. It was a simple three bedroom with one and a half bathrooms. Two of the three rooms weren’t used that frequently- one being a guest bed and the other being an at home studio/ office. The most you had to do was an occasional dust and sweep. You ran out of things to do too quickly. It had maybe been an hour since you sent the text and you were too nervous to even take a peek at your phone yet. You walked over to the counter comically slow and stared down at the phone screen, too afraid to look at the notifications. There were only three outcomes to this situation- one he doesn’t respond, two he can’t come, or three he agrees to come. You were hoping it was the latter option. The worst outcome was him ignoring you, you hated being ignored. It would also overall be the awkwardest outcome because his team will more than likely extend the invite to him as well. Maybe it would have been easier that way but you really wanted an excuse to get his number and talk to him. 

It felt like eternity had passed before you finally grabbed your phone, but in reality it was probably only a minute, you’ve never had the best self restraint. You unlocked it, opening the home screen, not even bothering to look at the pile of notifications, instead opting to go straight into the message app. 

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Hey y/n. I’d be delighted to come. 😁

You let out a loud screech after reading the message. If you were laying down, you’d be kicking your feet in the air and twirling your hair. You knew he was old but the way he texted did something to you. It was weird but the simplicity in his words was such a turn on. Everything about him turned you on, he was sex on legs, and he was coming to your party. You checked the time he sent the message to see that he responded only ten minutes after you had sent yours. You felt bad for leaving him hanging for so long. 

You: YAY!! I’ll see you there 😘

The added kiss was bold and flirty, you’d hope he would see it as such. You wanted to continue texting him but didn’t want to bother him, so you left it up for him to decide to text you back or not. Just as you were about to swipe out of the app, three little dots popped up at the bottom of the screen. 

Hugh Jackman 🥰: What should I wear? I haven’t been to a club in awhile. 

You: wear whatever you want. I'm sure you’d look good in anything ;)

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Thank you sweetheart. I genuinely do need help though. I’m too old to pick out club clothes. 😂

You: hmmm.. if it would help I could send you a picture of my outfit? maybe it will inspire you 

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Yeah we can try that. 

Ashley begged you to go shopping with her the moment you told her about the event and you both have had outfits picked out for a few weeks. When you got home that day, you put on the outfit, snapping a quick mirror picture to send to your hair and makeup artist so she could start brainstorming. You opted to send the same picture to Hugh. 

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Oh! That’s nice. 

You laughed at that. The picture of you wasn’t the best quality but you still looked hot. You were wearing a silver mini skirt that was lined with large sequins, ones that reminded you of a purse you had when you were younger. The top was a silver latex halter top that made your cleavage look devine. To top the look off, you wore a pair of shiny silver heels that could almost be classified as stilettos, but you wanted to be able to move around comfortably. You could have easily pulled the outfit out of your closet and snapped a picture of it but you wanted to tease him.

You: thank you! did that help at all? 😊

Hugh Jackman 🥰: Yeah, it did... Thank you sweetheart. 

You: no problem! 

He didn’t respond right away this time and being the menace you are, you were hoping it was because you made him flustered. 

—

The two and half weeks leading up to the listening party seemed to drag on now that you were more excited for it. Now that Hugh was coming, you were also extra nervous. While you got your hair and makeup done, all you could think about was how everyone was about to hear about your sex fantasies for almost an hour straight. You were counting on the beat of the music and the fact that this was everyone's first listening to distract them from processing the lyrics right away. You hadn’t heard much from Hugh and you were scared that you might have offended him with the picture you had sent. You decided to send a text two days ago asking if he was still planning on coming, to which he replied positively. 

Butterflies danced around your tummy as you posed for a few pictures before you went out to join the party. You could hear it in full swing, a playlist that you had curated playing in the background. Breathing in and out slowly, someone handed you a microphone and you were being ushered to a small stage that sat in the back of the club. The music got turned down and the lights centered towards you, a wave of quiet flooded the room. 

“Hi everyone! I’m beyond thankful for everyone here tonight. This album has been so much fun to make and I feel like it really represents me as an artist. It pays tribute to the amazing women of the late 90s and early 2000s who changed the pop game and who inspired me to make music. I really hope y’all like it! Without further ado, here is ‘Secret Sounds’!” The gathering of your friends, family, and acquaintances cheer as the first song starts to play. You rush over to the side to hand the mic back to the crew member and you begin to make your rounds. You stop here and there, speaking to people you hardly know, thanking them for being here. The club was packed, making it hard to move around without stopping to talk every step you took. There were only a few people you really wanted to see right now. A smile is glued to your face, soaking in all the love in the room, with it only being partially forced. You can see Ashley across the crowd and you start making your way towards her. You don’t make it far before there's a hand on your shoulder stopping you. 

“Hey baby.” A familiar voice comes from behind you causing your smile to drop as you turn around. 

“Pedro…what are you doing here?” You ask with a mix of shock and irritation in your voice. 

“You invited me, remember?” He’s smiling as if he hadn’t broken up with you in the cruelest way almost two months ago. 

“I thought you’d be smart enough to take the breakup and me ignoring you as being uninvited.” You roll your eyes. 

“Don’t be like that baby.” He’s smiling down at you with those stupid puppy dog eyes. He reaches down to grab your waist but you step back before he can. 

“Don’t touch me!” You say louder than anticipated but no one’s paying attention to you over the loud music. “You broke up with me, remember?” You’re thoroughly pissed off. 

“I know, baby and  I regret it everyday. I want you back y/n. I need you back…” He’s reaching for you again, you step back again. 

“I said don’t touch me..” You don’t yell this time. You need to get away from him. This was supposed to be your night and he’s ruining it. You go to turn around but you’re stopped by a very hard object.

“Is everything okay over here?” A gruff voice asks and you feel two hands grab either side of your arms. “Are you okay?” You look up to see Hugh looking down at you, concern in his eyes. 

“Hugh..” Your voice is weak and breathless. 

“Oh don’t tell me you already moved on?” Pedro lets out, anger lining his words. “What is he, your boyfriend? I wasn’t old enough for you y/n? You had to run and fuck my friend?” His voice grows louder and louder but miraculously no one seems to notice the commotion. 

“He’s not my boyfriend…” You mumble, too embarrassed by the situation. 

“What’s it to you? Huh? Why don’t you mind your business and leave.” Hugh’s voice matches Pedro’s energy effortlessly. He lets go of your arms and instead points an angry finger at Pedro. 

“You know what, I don't need this and I don’t need you.” Pedro says looking into your eyes with a malicious stare. “Good luck with her, she’s nothing but a good fuck and trouble.” He’s walking away before either of you could answer. You felt Hugh go to move towards the directions Pedro went but you stop him by putting your hand on his chest. 

“Don’t…” You whisper and you weren’t sure if he could hear you over the music. Tears were starting to pool at the bottom of your eyes, threatening to escape. 

“Are you okay y/n?” Hugh asks and that’s all it takes before you let out a soft sob. He puts his hand under your chin and is lifting your head. “Let's get you out of here, is that okay?” All you can do is nod. You grab his hand and walk towards the hallway that leads to the room you got ready in. You open the door and make your way to the couch that sits along the wall. Hugh follows behind, closing the door and takes a seat close to you but not too close. He doesn’t say anything, what could he say?

“I’m sorry.” You let out, tears still falling. You pull your knees up, trying to hide the tears from Hugh, even if he already knew they were there. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart.” He cautiously places a hand on your back and rubs it in soft circles, soothing you. You untuck your head for a moment. 

“You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.” You frown at him. 

“What he did is not your fault. Okay?” You can’t find the energy to answer him right away, not sure if you truly believe his words, but you nod anyway. 

“I shouldn’t have asked you to come.” Sadness fills your voice.

“What? Why not?” He asks confusingly. 

“Everyone is going to think what Pedro thought, that you’re my boyfriend. We shouldn’t be seen together. It won’t be good for you.” 

“Hey, don’t think like that sweetheart. Whatever we are is our business, nobody else's. I want to be seen with you, I'm here to support you. I don’t care what people have to say. I’m not him.” His hand stopped moving around your back, eyes filled with an emotion you can’t quite place. 

I’m not him

You don’t respond but you do feel better about the whole situation. You can hear the fourth song of your album playing and you get hit with another rush of sadness. 

“I should probably go back out there, people will start to wonder where I am.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Let's get you cleaned up. Stay right here.” Hugh stands up and grabs a tissue, wetting it slightly by pouring a few drops of water from a water bottle onto it. He walks over and bends down, sitting on his knees right in front of you. Even at this angle, his head is still resting above yours. Hugh grabs your chin lightly and begins to dab the tissue, wiping your tears away. You can feel the heat from the air leaving his nose hitting your face. It’s comforting in a way.

“There we go, good as new.” He says with a big smile. Your faces are inches away from each other and you wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull him in. 

“Thank you Hugh. For everything.” You return his smile, eyes locked onto his. You took a moment to appreciate his appearance. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and a gray, almost silver button up, as if he tried to match with you. 

“Don’t mention it sweetheart” He stands up and offers his hand to you. “Now let’s get the star of the show back out there, yea?” 

You grab his hand and smile. “Do I look okay?” You ask, afraid that your disheveled state might have ruined your hair or outfit somehow. You pull him towards a mirror to check your full appearance, a firm grip still on his hand. It engulfed yours beautifully. 

“You look gorgeous.” You can tell he means it by the look in his eyes and the small smile that sits on his face. You see a flicker of something in his eyes, you don't fully catch it, but before you can think it over, he’s leaning down to leave a soft kiss on the crown of your head. 

“Let’s go.” He says pulling you out of the room and back into the sea of people, never letting go of your hand.

Thank you for reading!!

part four

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley

I think I got everyone who asked to be added on! Please let me know if I missed you or if it didn't work.

If you want to be tagged for this series, please leave a comment on this post

[monarchberrysblog]

JINGLE BELL !! 𝒻𝓉. 𝑀𝒾𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓁 𝒪’𝐻𝒶𝓇𝒶

art credit to @/willowo13 at X or @/slushdraws.bsky.social at blue sky!

synopsis: spending the holidays with a domesticated black cat! Miguel leaves to homey touches with red satin ribbons.

word count: 1.4k words

tags: gn! reader (if I did use pronouns I apologize in advance), dominant/submissive dynamic, reader wears lipstick, overstimulation, oral sex, a little twist in the middle 🤭 MINORS DNI

author’s note: happy holidays to my beautiful followers! this fic came to me while decorating for the holiday season. hope you all enjoy it! (this is honestly the most unhinged piece of smut I worked on. I kept laughing ngl. If it feels choppy, i apologize. I can't take this seriously.)

🎄 not proofread!! 🎄

“Can you help me with the ribbons?” You called into your apartment, hoping a particular pair of ears would prick and rush to your aid. Yet, alas, no one came to you. “If you help, I'll make you some chicken alfredo.” The sound of rummaging was enough for whoever it was to drop whatever they were doing and dash into the living room with a boyish grin and grey sweatpants.

“Really?” Miguel beams, stepping into the semi-messy living room littered with wrapped boxes. “No, just help me with the decorations.” You dismiss him and toss a bundle of neatly cut red ribbons and a clear baggie of little golden bells. He frowns but takes a seat next to you. “I thought that you said you got this.”

“Well, I don't.” You huff as you swat the strips of gift-wrapping tape off your fingers. “I got too many gifts for Mayday.” You disregard the soft teddy bear on the couch, hearing the soft toy squeak in contact. “I told you, two gifts would have been enough. But you got four instead.” You put a defensive hand up and hand him the unwrapped toy to him.

“Just wrap the gift, O’Hara.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The iridescent, colorful lights highlighted the apartment’s coziness as you sat on the floor, wrapping presents together. His calloused hands worked with the silk ribbon, attaching a golden bell to add to the aesthetic of the festive wrapping paper. He rested his hands on his lap, annoyed with the wrapping process.

He glances at the colorful tree, remembering how you probed him for putting up decorations in a specific form. He absentmindedly smiles at the memory but stops when you shove the last wrapped present under the tree. “And we’re done! Thanks for helping, Migs. But for real, I'll cook some pasta now since it is almost dinner time.” Miguel nods, watching you get up and making your way to him.

He instinctively leans toward you as you squat down to him and plant a forehead kiss, leaving your lip stain behind on his skin.

If he could, he would purr at the gesture. Instead, he smiles and slowly blinks, looking up at you. “I appreciate you.” He whispers. You giggle at his words and shake your head. “You’re an idiot.” You pick up the tubes of wrapping paper, leaving behind the ribbons and bells on the floor for Miguel to pick up.

He grabs the baggie of bells, the mini instruments colliding with one another in the small bag. He stops when he holds the bundle of unused ribbon and wraps it around his hand. An idea invaded his brain.

You stir away, taking precautions in case the noodles stick to the bottom of the hot pot. “Hey babe,” Miguel calls out to you as you focus on the boiling bubbles before you. “Yeah?” You call back in return, sprinkling some salt into the steaming water. “Can you take a look at this?” He calls out.

“Not right now, Migs. I'm wanting to make sure this doesn't stick like last time.”

“Just for a second, nena. Please…”

You glance away from the boiling pasta and glare at Miguel through your large frames, and there he is. The red, satin bow tied loosely at the base of his shaft, the tiny golden bell against one of his balls. “Miguel—” You choke out, fighting back the laughter of the red bow tied around his dick. “Unwrap me,” He comments, suggestiveness in his voice, but fails, not taking himself seriously with the flimsy ribbon against his shaft, tickling his length.

He breaks into a fit of laughter, covering his face immediately.

“Miguel, take it off.” You choke, walking towards him.

“That's the point. Unwrap me.”

“Not like that!” You wheeze into a fit of laughter, clutching onto your aching stomach. “Miguel, take it off!”

You soon stumble close to him, fanning yourself. You throw yourself into a fit of coughs and finally sigh. “Put your sweatpants back on...” You gently grasp his bicep for support, taking a deep breath. “Aw fuck…” You glance down once more and see his hardened cock, his tip leaking out precum, staining the tiled floors of your apartment. “You're making a mess.” The air in the room changes, the boiling pasta no longer being at your attention. The attention moves to him instead.

You collect yourself and look at his hardening length. The noise of bubbles boiling fades as you reach down, gently pulling the extra skin from his tip, and see the familiar mauve color. His breathing hitched, and the pads of your fingers felt new once again as your pointer finger grazed his slit.

You look up at him and see him bite his bottom lip, holding back any noises he is about to produce in the next forty minutes. You look at him with pleading eyes, tracing around the slit with your pointer finger. He swallows dryly and nods, giving you the green light.

You get on your knees, the cold tile floor picking on the skin on your knees. You continue to trace the slit for a brief moment before you stick your tongue out and kitten-lick the salty precum off. The taste made you melt as you kissed it and immediately sucked on his tip, salivating at the taste. Your hands ball up to fists as you continuously take more of him in your mouth, drooling on his length. You continue on with labored breathing until something soft grazes your cupid’s bow.

The damn ribbon. You pull away, taking a breather as you grab the ends of the ribbon and trace his length. A gutteral groan escaped from the back of his throat, involuntarily thrusting towards you, the small bell ringing from the movement. (what the hell am I writing 😭)

“The ribbon stays on.”

“But—”

“It stays on.”

The litter of kiss marks contrasted his tan skin, the marks decorated around his happy trail, but the mess stayed at his tip, the color red mashed with mauve well.

The faint traces of red smudge your lip area, giving him an amusing sight. You, on your knees, sucking and choking on on his dick while you caressed his balls in between your fingers.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he looks down and sees you eagerly sucking him off. Thin, sticky strands of drool found their way down with gravity, the clear drops landing on your cleavage and the floor. “Easy there…” He groans, his hand cupping your cheeks and gently thrusts into your throat.

A strained choke escapes as you place a gentle hand on his thigh. “Sí lo puedes aguantar, carino…” He rasps, tugging at your hair gently. “Ahí, carino.” The jingle of the bells greets your ear cavity, reminding you of the bell that nestled close to his balls, adding to the festive spirit.

A familiar warmth returned to your eyes as you looked up at him, barely holding on to the torturous throat fuck. The warm liquid from your eyes escape, leaving wet streaks of tears on your skin. The rings of the bells become sloppy, matching his chaotic thrust patterns.

“Ya mero, ya casi…” He groans, his patterns uneven as the clash of warmth greets your mouth and throat. He pulls out immediately, his sticky residue decorating your puffy, messy lips.

You lean toward him, chasing more of the salty taste, opening your mouth wide.

He reaches down, pumping more at his aching length, giving you what you desire. The milky discharge lands on your tongue as you look up with doe eyes, seeing him desperately trying his best to please you. He groans inaudibly, finally putting his softening dick to a rest.

Silence fills the kitchen immediately before he helps you up from the floor and unties the ribbon from his shaft and disregards the soaked ribbon and bell into the trash.

He gently moves your hair back in place before the pot on the stove sizzles, pouring the over-boiling water onto the stove. On the tips of your toes, you rush to turn off the stove while wiping your lips with your sweater’s sleeve. The result of black, burnt pasta showed, the smell of charred food filled the kitchen as you groan and cover your face with your other hand.

“Don’t worry about it, carino.” He gives you a peck on your temple and fans out the smell over the pot. “Nod if you want Olive Garden.”

You do so sheepishly as Miguel steps into the living room and puts on his sweatpants back on. “Olive Garden it is…”

[willowpains]

season 1 release

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

liked by madelyncline and other 462,611.

ynusername SEASON 1 OF OUTER BANKS IS OUT BABY!!! you don’t wanna miss it☀️🏴‍☠️🐚

see comments.

user1 I finished it in one sitting? it’s so good!

user2 is it worth it?

user3 so so so worth it, you should give it a try!

hichasestokes POGUES 4 LIFE

user4 latin representation? definitely gonna watch

madelyncline prettiest island girl

user5 wait I didn’t know she was latina!

user6 yuppp, I actually loved seeing they went into her mexican background in the show

user7 the fact she’s truly mexican born and raised, LOVE HER ALREADY

drewstarkey the orange sunglasses are fire

yourbestie SISISI la más orgullosa de ti<3

madisonbaileybabe second pic was an epic day!

user8 imma need Netflix to renew this show

obx WE LOVE OUR GIRL LUNA

user9 ok this show is so good I’m invested

user10 her character kinda has tension with rafe ngl

ynusername has posted on her story

madelyncline replied to your story

wait that film photo is amazing

you’re missing in it though:(

madisonbaileybabe replied to your story

omg that is literally your personality pic LMAO

drewstarkey replied to your story

learn how to swim

liked by jonathandavissofficial and other 3,568,901.

obx a little love for one of our favorite pogue princesses: LUNA🌙🥥🌺

see comments.

user11 LOVE HER

user12 she’s an absolute goddess

yourcousin mi personaje favoritoooo

user13 ugh I hate her character sm

user14 right like idk why everyone likes her

user15 y’all are just jealous

yourbestie obsesionada con ella

user16 DIOSA MEXICANA

ynusername amamos a luna<3

user17 without her the pogues would be lost

user18 fr she saved all their asses more than once

user19 and they would be so bored too

madisonbaileybabe pogue sister

user20 she has the funniest lines as well as jj, I was tearing up laughing at their fights

rudeth she knows what’s up

liked by austinnorth55 and other 763,820.

drewstarkey glad to know everyone’s enjoying obx, had to drop these bangers I took from behind the scenes📸 @ynusername

see comments.

hichasestokes that’s her 99% of the time

user21 LMAO she’s so me

ynusername no you didn’t

ynusername HOW DARE YOU

drewstarkey not my fault you fell asleep everywhere

user22 we love a pair of pretty besties

user23 damn filming must’ve been tiring

madelyncline I have some funny ones too, let’s share!

ynusername not you too

user24 how is she still pretty even drooling?

user25 wait she’s so relatable

madisonbaileybabe second pic is a mood

user26 omg I love you two on the show!

user27 I kinda ship them

user28 wait you might be onto something

jonathandavissofficial LOL

user29 I’m a y/n protector

user30 oh she’s my fave

liked by jonathandavissofficial and other 999,528.

ynusername tomfoolery by yours truly🫣

see comments.

user31 YES YES YES

user32 pls keep feeding us with content

madelyncline I’m the life of the party

user33 I love this cast so much, I wanna be their friend

user34 I know right? they look like they love each other

user35 I wanna party out with them tbh

drewstarkey I see you’ve gotten your revenge

ynusername I’m not done yet

user36 your honor I love them

user37 y/n thank you for your service ma’am

ynusername anytime🫡

rudeth paparazzi

user38 I cannot wait for them to announce a second season

obx our favorite people!

madisonbaileybabe truly iconic

user39 I can confidently say this is my new favorite show

user40 I’m addicted to outer banks I cannot stop rewatching

ynusername has posted on her story

hichasestokes replied to your story

a war has been declared

madelyncline replied to your story

LMAO

I love you

drewstarkey replied to your story

oh it’s ON

*

first social media post for latina actress universe!

I really wanna incorporate a little bit of everything sooo let me know if you like it but I kinda really love this<3

[traffytaffy]

OP men and being “told”they are in love with you:

Ft. Law, Kid, Zoro

Cw: implied fem reader (mainly in zoro’s part)

Ngl, not much of a fan of this so i might make a follow up! lmk if i should!

Part 2

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Law:

Oh boy.

This man doesnt realize it until one of his crew members tell him. He’ll give you small smiles when youre not looking. Completely mesmerized at you: Your focus, your dedication, your delicateness with every task performed. But most importantly: your smarts. Every-time you spoke, he would stop what he was doing and listen intently at whatever subject it was. Which was how the crew…mainly ikkaku, Shachi, and Penguin, knew there was a special interest.

“Am I in love with y/n? I dont see how thats any of your business”

Law says, looking at an accusatory Ikkaku.

“Captain. I can see that look on your face. You’re all red.”

“No im not.”

“Oh yes you a-“

“Room”

~

After that, It really got him thinking. Why did he get all flustered? No. There is no way he was in love. It was just a coincidence that he happened to get all worked up around you. That his heart would beat a little faster. That he was willing to drop whatever he was doing to help/listen or be with you. That he spoke more softer and less stern too. That was all a coincidence….right?

~

“Captain? Who’s that tiny person you’re drawing on your sticky note? Are you distracted by something? Is that… y/n?”

“Don’t any of you know how to knock?!”

A blue bubble surrounds the submarine.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Kid:

Same as Law.

He doesn’t realize his behavior till a teasing Killer points it out.

“I didn’t take you to be such a romantic, Kid.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

His soft tone of voice in comparison of his rough one. The way he yelled at everyone except you. The way his brows furrowed every time he saw you talking to someone else. The way he locked himself in his workshop and didn’t let anyone in when he saw you enjoying yourself with another crew member that wasn’t him. Killer was the one who found him and he could see right through Kid.

What was this feeling? Why was he more angry?

“You were staring at them that whole time. You’re jealous huh?” Killer asks, Kid could sense the grin from under his mask.

“Jealous? For fucks sake. No”

Killer shakes his head with a laugh and mutters “Whatever you say” before leaving the room.

Kid scoffs. Killer didn’t know anything. This is how he always acted….right? I mean you were beautiful… but that didn’t affect him right? You shouldn’t be all smiley and happy with anyone besides him.. thats just a friendly way of thinking right?

“Eustass? Killer sent me in here cause he said you needed my help with something?” You walk in all shy and innocently. You didn’t know about the little trick Killer was pulling on Kid.

Kid turns soft when he sees you and becomes a blushing and stuttering mess for how caught off-guard he was from your sudden appearance. This, as everything else, enrages him.

And who else is to blame for this?

“KILLER IM GOING TO KILL YOU!”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ��︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Zoro:

He knows what he feels. He just doesn’t want to believe or pursue his own feelings.

Every-time he sees you, his heart beats faster. But this wasn’t the same fast heart rate he got when he was training. Nope. It was every time you were in his presence. Every brush of skin. Every-time he saw you fight. Every time you assisted him in anything.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have time for romance.”

“Ah! So you’re not even denying it!You’ve never told Sanji off when it came to him flirting with us, but now you suddenly do?”

Nami says, pointing at herself and Robin next to her, referring to the event that led for the crew figuring out he was in love with you. Sanji was serving ice cold drinks he made for the hot summer day and as usual…he got flirty. But once Sanji got to you, his heart eyes and kneeling position in front of you as if you were accepting his hand in marriage. Zoro’s eyebrows furrowed and he stood up from where he was napping.

“Leave them alone Sanji. Can you not be a creep for one day?!”.

Although Sanji would’ve made a snarky remark back. He didn’t. Sanji looked stunned? He looked back at Nami and Robin from where they sat at and Nami shrugged, while Robin gave a knowing smile.

~

“You two don’t know crap. I don’t have time for this”

Suddenly, you walk in..

You look at Robin and Nami who were hovering over Zoro cleaning his swords on the bench. Although you were confused, you shrugged it off.

“Oh hey…” you say… “Zoro, wanna train?”

Zoro looks away and starts to stutter.

“Oh uhm…s-sure…”

Nami and Robin smirk at him, which is met with a death glare.

“Im slicing all of you.”

[egglain]

Go Ahead & Cry (I’d Wipe Away All Your Tears)

incl.: nanami, choso, toji, gojo, geto, sukuna

summary: for a group of men who kill for a living, they’re awfully sweet… most of the time. AKA: how the jjk men comfort you

a/n: ngl i’m writing this bc i’m finally processing the US election results & i just… can’t deal. my heart goes out to all of you. pls take care of yourselves & enjoy the drabbles 🫶

Nanami

Nanami would be the first to notice something is off.

Whether you’re both at home and you’re just a bit too quiet, or he hasn’t heard from you by his lunch break while at work, something is distinctly off.

He wouldn’t be the nosy type, or the type to press. He’d bring home a sweet treat and a sentimental good (a potted flower, a stuffed animal, something that reminded him of you) without a word.

He wouldn’t pity you; far from it. And he’d never want to make you feel like that. So he’d leave the gifts on the coffee table and greet you with a kiss to the forehead, like always.

He’d sit in silence with you as if nothing was awry— allow you to feel your emotions. He’d put on a movie you like, something mindless and upbeat, without asking. Drag you to his chest and hold you there, keeping you warm and grounded in his touch.

If the waterworks start up, he’d rub your back with a large hand and press kisses to the part of your hair.

“That’s it. Get it out. I know.”

Choso

Choso is either too emotionally in-tune or completely clueless until the tears start.

But when he knows you’re upset, he feels it too.

He gets it wrong a lot of the time, at the beginning— tries to pry the cause out of you so he can minimize it. In his defence, he does it with good intentions; tries to help you see that the perceived threat is small in the greater scheme of things, that everything will work out.

But when the tears start welling, he knows he’s fucked up.

And god, is he so sweet trying to fix things.

“So sorry—“

He’d kiss the salty tears off your cheeks without hesitation.

“How do I make it stop?”

His bleeding heart is his biggest weakness and his greatest strength.

You wouldn’t have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, as he tries to make things up to you. Cooking (though he burns the bottom of the pan), cleaning (though he spills the food and has to clean again), and cuddles would be the itinerary.

Though he loves to be little spoon, he’d let you rest in his arms as long as you need it. And once you find a spot in his arms, he wouldn’t dare move.

Toji

Toji is not great with words. Or gifts. Or quality time, really.

Despite his best intentions, he always manages to fuck it up somehow. Usually by minimizing your feelings with a “what now?” or a “‘s not a big deal.” or a “nothin’ to cry over.”

It’s not his fault you cry over the little things & that you look so cute doing it. Those fat tears and reddened cheeks scratch the sadistic part of his brain so good.

That being said, he’s learned what you like over the years. Even stopped scoffing when he senses you’re feeling down.

No, he’s developed a plan.

At the first signs of distress (he’s gotten really good at recognizing these), he’s got you in his arms. If he’s at work, you better bet he’s speeding things up and hauling his ass back.

He wrestles you into his big clothes; don’t even think about fighting him on this. He wants you comfy and cozy. He’d be setting you up on the couch, dragging the comforter down from the bedroom to wrap you up. He’d sit there with you for hours, massaging your feet or calves and ordering food in. Your favourite fast food— and a whole lotta ice cream.

Don’t take advantage of his kindness though; he’s still Toji. Any snide comments, and he’d be quick to snap back.

“Shut up n’ let me take care of ya.”

Gojo

Gojo’s a little… misguided when cheering people up most of the time. That is, unless you find his goofy antics comforting.

He’s known for draping himself over shoulders obnoxiously, pinching and pulling cheeks, and light jabs that crack (only) him up.

When that doesn’t work, it’s a quick fix— thanks to the seemingly unending pit of his black card.

Gojo Satoru, at his core, is a gift giver.

Nothing pleases him more than sharing things with you that he thinks will bring you joy— whether that’s an expensive physical present or a luxurious vacation abroad.

He’s wrapped around your little fingers and a sniffle would have him buckling at the knees and fumbling for his wallet.

While this might look like a cop out— a way to get out of emotional intelligence duty— it’s just one part of his approach. The man is actually quite sensitive and understanding once you dig beneath the layers of persona. And he can be surprisingly mature— though he’d never want to show that side to most of the world.

He’d always listen to your yapping, validating your feelings— he’d take your side always. And he is a pro at shit-talking. At the end of it, you always come out feeling a little bit better. A little bit stronger.

You are the strongest together, after all.

Geto

Suguru is a problem-solver.

He’d sit and motion for you to lay your head on his thighs. Long elegant fingers would make gentle work of your roots and scalp, and the tension would be melting away. When you’re relaxed enough to breathe, he’d want to hear all the venting.

“Now do you want solutions or just my ear?”

He’s your rock; always puts things into perspective if you ask. He’s always got advice— though sometimes clouded by bias. Still, it’s nice to have someone to bounce ideas off of. Someone who actually listens.

Understands.

The flipside, however, is the darkness you find in him. He understands what to do because he’s hurt too. You can see it in the way he carries himself, in the bags under his eyes and the shake of his hands on the bad days.

But you care for him like he cares for you— braid his hair back, let him talk it out, gift whatever advice you can muster.

And as soon as you’re both feeling better, you’d be getting crêpes with the girls.

Sukuna

The King of Curses does not understand human sadness.

Perhaps he had empathy for it, centuries ago, before he became the Two-faced Spectre.

But now, seeing you upset, all he can think of is how pathetic tears look in reddened eyes.

He’d wipe them away with a big thumb, clicking his tongue.

“Unsightly, pathetic little thing.”

Yet, the way he speaks down to you holds a softness. A protective nature he rarely gives voice to.

He’d treat you like a porcelain doll; a prized possession. No measure was inconvenient when it came to appeasing you— though he’d be quick to reprimand entitlement. And vehemently deny any sort of feeling towards you.

When the tears come, he’d be signalling for Uraume to draw a bath and cook your favourite. You’d find your room tidied, trinkets left on the foot of your bed as if dragged in by a wild animal— an ornate dagger, gold jewellery, incense.

He wasn’t one to demonstrate affection— but he’d keep you close on the tough days. Whether it be making a seat for you on one of his hulking thighs or allowing you to sleep in his quarters, he’d allow you to do as you please.

[melliemell]

Pairing: Fyodor x reader

Contents: NSFW, sub!fyodor, fingering, (fyodor receiving, he's in for a fun night ngl), masturbation, fyodor agreeing to doing whatever reader asks of him and dealing with it, gentle domming him, Approx. 2.9k. words of filth. my bad

Fyodor was a man of subtle power. 

Not the loud, demanding attention type. No, it was a quiet, calm thing. The art of reading your associates first, and then ever so gently guiding them exactly in the direction you wanted.

All the while letting them believe they pulled the strings.

You pondered over that yourself; teasing the line between all those illusions. 

Even now, eyes fully drawn to the man before you, his slender form kneeling patiently at your feet. The familiar smile of easy confidence graced his features as he gazed at you through dark locks of hair.  

Fyodor was beautiful. You couldn’t deny that. More so with every second that passed. Your mind lagged. You could hardly believe he of all people would agree to a proposition you had only offered half as a joke, half an idea too appetising to regard possible.

“Well?” he asked, smile barely obscuring the amusement he certainly felt.

He was in control even now, it was more than obvious. The thought of that drew forth a slight annoyance in you, the need to fight back increasing. To see how far you could push him before Fyodor��s grip crumbled away–willingly… or not. 

“You will do anything I ask of you? Doesn’t sound like you.”

Fyodor shrugged, observing you carefully. “As long as you ask it of me. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

You considered him. “It is, yes,” you said, voice calm as you tried to keep your excitement under reins.

“Then I don’t mind at all.” 

There it was again, that lazy, upward tilt of his lips. Like he’s done this a hundred times, not a sweat on his brow. You only wanted to ruin him even more.

You took a step forward, standing right before him. Cupping Fyodor’s chin to have him look up to you sent a shiver down your spine, enjoying the readiness with which he leaned into the touch. 

Fyodor’s eyes never left yours. Not urging, definitely not. But maybe curious? You bumped his thigh with a foot, drawing his attention downwards. 

“I think…” you began, stifling your nerves down. “...you should open your legs a bit more.”

“Oh?” A quiet moment and then Fyodor’s thighs spread, cloth dragging against carpet the only audible sound in the room. “I will admit you’re being very timid about this. Interesting.”

“You don’t want me to be?” you asked. His eyes had a dark tint to them, heavy lashes fluttering as you locked gazes. He looked almost dangerous.

“It was only an observation, dear.” 

It was, yes. Fyodor really liked observing people alright. That’s why it was so hard to get a read on him too, his guards so high up you doubted even he remembered to check in on his own feelings.

It… was an interesting thought. One that needed more attention, yes. Certainly. 

“Alright then,” you said, weighing your words carefully. “You know, I want to do the observations for this night, actually.”

“I will be on display as best as I can.”

Perfect. “Okay. Then start by touching yourself.”

Short, simple, and direct. It worked wonders as Fyodor complied, leaning back from your touch to work on his trousers, his soft pretty cock free in his hand a moment later. His face turned to the side, eyes falling close as he concentrated. 

He made it look like a private moment, not even glancing at you as he slowly stroked himself into hardness. He was deathly quiet, not unlike his usual behaviour in the slightest. It was like having a window into something forbidden, and the way he tried to keep his breathing smooth, unbothered–it all brought a sad, knowing smile to your face. 

You knew what to expect. For all his unpredictability in life, Fyodor was a rather collected man–at least when it came to your sex life. That’s why it was so important that he agreed to this. Seeing more was an idea that crawled around in your mind for long, waiting for the opportunity.

Sometimes you just had to push a bit, see what happens. 

You reached out, hand stroking Fyodor’s hair. You didn’t make him turn back to you. Instead, you merely said, “Faster.” 

Fyodor’s brows furrowed. A moment later and his breath caught slightly, his hand moving in rapid strokes over his cock. You never stopped caressing his hair, hoping he felt the gesture encouraging. 

He’d definitely need that for what was to come. 

“Fyodor?” you began, heart thumping.

His eyes fluttered open, gaze hooded as he looked up at you. “Yes, dear?”

Your hand found his lips again, tracing his cupid’s bow. He had such a lovely voice… 

“I want to hear you,” you said. “I think you’d sound really prettily. Will you do that for me?” 

Fyodor blinked, his hand losing its momentum for a second. It was like seeing a quick slip of inner uncertainty, only to be masked back under a carefree tilt of his head. 

“Gladly,” Fyodor said, laughing lightly before kissing the fingers that caressed him. “Although I doubt it’d be much to listen to, but I appreciate your kind words.”

You didn’t comment on that, opting to settle in comfortably into the silence that followed. If it was patience he wanted–he would get it. Fyodor kept his gaze on you for a few moments longer before violet eyes fell shut again. 

He built up his pleasure slowly, tilting to the side just enough to give you a better view of his work. Fyodor’s hand languidly stoked up and down his shaft, his grip firm as droplets of precum trailed over his knuckles. The curse of having such pale skin was how easily it flushed, and Fyodor’s was no exception. With cheeks catching colour right before you, you doubted it would be any different down his chest too. His shirt skillfully obscured the rest of him though, an obstacle that demanded your prompt attention.

“Keep going,” you said as you knelt beside him, drawing his curious gaze to your swift fingers. His shirt came undone in seconds, a shared look of amusement between you.

“Still quiet for me?” you asked, breath ghosting over his collarbone. “If you need encouragement you could always ask.”

Fyodor hummed. His movements were becoming sloppier, but he kept his voice relaxed as he said, “Very generous of you. Was undressing me one of them by chance?”

You bit at his flushed skin playfully. “Yes.”

He only sighed in response, leaning into you. Fyodor’s skin was meant to be kissed, even if he rarely agreed with your words. The idea was foreign to him, and having a lover even more so. 

He never struck you as the type to delve into any romantic endeavours. Yet here you were. With him, pulling at his hair until your lips crashed into his, tongue already prying them open. Patience be damned. You held him in place, deepening the kiss until you were both panting, saliva trailing down Fyodor’s chin as the sound of your tongues moving against each other made more heat pool between your thighs.

You could feel Fyodor’s muscles straining, his belly twitching as his pleasure built. You pushed him back, letting him lay on the floor beneath you. His eyes were lidded, gaze going distant as he struggled to keep his focus. 

He was so pretty like this. His hair fell messy around him, mouth barely open as he breathed soundlessly. 

What a beautiful liar he was.

It’s of no matter though. You would gladly help him with that. 

You did not touch his pretty cock though. No, all your attention was directed to him, his soft lips, his exposed chest that shuddered every time you ghosted your touch down to his soft belly, his nipples hardening under your fingers as you drew your attention back up. Pulling his pants completely off was even easier, Fyodor barely sparing them a glance as he drew you back against him a moment later. 

Good. 

Completely exposed, and relaxed. What a sight he was, lying there under you. 

It made it easier to reach in your back pocket, an idea already forming in your mind. You were prepared for a night like this–never gladder for it as you pried open the small bottle of lube, hand slicked a moment later as it wrapped around the base of Fyodor’s cock.

He stilled against you, lips slightly parted as his breath ghosted over your lips. He liked it slow usually, so you gave a few experimental strokes, letting him feel your every move. Your nose brushed against Fyodor’s, and you smiled when he barely made a move, his eyes still closed. 

“Just giving a helping hand,” you whispered against him.

Fyodor chuckled, the sound of it quiet. “Very kind of you,” he breathed.

And it wasn’t like you lied. You gave him your attention for a while, letting him melt against you. You nudged his legs wider, hooking one over to the side. Fyodor went along, even letting you bite into his lower lip –a partial distraction you could say–and your hand loosened around him to trail down lower…

Fyodor pulled back just as your fingers found his entrance, his gaze blank as it locked into yours. 

You raised a brow but didn’t stop massaging the spot gently. You expected a reaction from him, of course. You’ve never done this before, and Fyodor hardly struck you as the type to suggest this himself, so you let your curiosity guide you through, uncertainty be damned.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” you said, observing intently for anything. Fyodor was a hard man to read after all.

Fyodor was silent, more so than usual. He was so quick to decide on things, predicting the outcome almost always. But he didn’t do that now. He only considered you before sighing. 

He didn’t look at you as he said, “If it is what you wish.”

Your brows knitted. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“How would you like me to say it?” 

“I prefer a “yes” or “no” answer actually. Big boys know those words.”

Fyodor only hummed, which served more to annoy you. You flicked him on the forehead, drawing a quiet complaint as he quickly caught your hand in his. 

“I mean it!” you said, looking at Fyodor with all the seriousness you could muster. “I’m stopping everything right now if you don’t talk normally. Talk to me.”

You pulled Fyodor’s face to yours, waiting. He could play his games all he wanted with the rest, but not you. You couldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

“Alright,” Fyodor said. He looked up at the ceiling, expression unreadable. “I… don’t mind. I am not sure, to be sincere. I don’t think I will enjoy it, but I am willing to try for you… There, how is that for my thoughts?”

You pursed your lips. At least he was honest. “You would like to try?”

“Yes.”

“And you will stop me if it doesn’t go as you like?”

Fyodor hummed. “Yes.”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to see if he was bullshiting again. “...fine. But I’m filing for a pinky promise on this one. Pray to God if you lie, you loser.”

“Sure.” And he gave you a chaste kiss, his gaze gentle as he pulled back. He made it so easy to forgive when he was like this. All soft and lovely as you captured Fyodor’s lips again, savouring every second of it.

It didn’t take long to get back on track. He was already hard so that made it easier; let him lose himself in pleasure as you played with his entrance until he got accustomed to the feeling of your fingers against his skin. 

The first finger was hard, Fyodor tensing automatically. He felt warm, too tight for comfort at first. You trailed kisses down his jaw and neck until your finger moved with ease, pumping in and out of his hole as he gradually got accustomed to the stretch. Fyodor was breathing hard and harder, his fist firm around his cock even if he barely moved it.   

He was doing really well. You made sure he knew that, your words whispered against his ear with every stroke of your finger inside him. Fyodor could only look at the ceiling, gaze unfocused.

But it’s what happened after you added the second that you’d never forget.

Fyodor winced at first, falling quiet again as you raised his leg higher for a better angle. You didn’t want to go fast, letting him ease into it slowly. 

…but then you curled your fingers just right, and Fyodor’s entire body seized, eyes blowing wide as his breath hitched. 

You froze, fingers not moving as you looked Fyodor’s face for signs of pain. “Are you okay?”

He looked at you then, eyes blinking as he swallowed. There was… there was no pain there. It was something else.

You’ve seen that face before. Maybe. Not on Fyodor at least. You held his gaze, the corner of your lips lifting. “Oh, my.”

You didn’t give him a chance to answer as you moved your fingers against his prostate, maintaining a steady rhythm as Fyodor’s head fell back, neck beautifully exposed.

The low, guttural moan that left Fyodor’s lips was downright lewd. Your mouth almost fell open. You’ve never heard him do that. And it was getting worse; every thrust forcing out a quiet sound of pleasure that barely got stifled by Fyodor’s pursed lips. Covering his mouth didn’t help either, it only served to pool more heat between your legs, the sight of him like this making you throb with want even more. 

“Wow,” you said stupidly. 

“Don’t–” Fyodor began, only to lose that thought just as fast. You smiled. The lube made it so easy now, your fingers moving fast and merciless as he clutched around them, the action seeming unconscious. 

Fyodor kept seeking your touch, your lips– the kisses heated and messy only to pull back from you a moment later, breathing hard as he covered his eyes with a hand. It’s like he couldn’t make up his mind, the view of it almost too cute if it weren’t for how fast he stroked himself, precum sliding all over his fist. 

“I’ve got you.” You held Fyodor close, letting him whimper against your mouth. You swallowed every pretty sound he made. “Will you cum for me? Pretty please?” you whispered against his ear, kissing the sensitive skin there. 

Fyodor groaned, covering his flushed face with a hand. “You’re… enjoying this a little too much, dear.”

“My bad.” You bit at his earlobe, tongue trailing up its side and his eyes fluttered close. 

He was close, his fist barely maintaining a steady rhythm. As much as you loved to shower him with kisses, watching him stroke himself as your fingers moved inside him was a whole new experience, and it needed your attention. He was completely at your mercy, a mess–his hair soaked and sticking to his forehead, belly twitching from the strain even as his hips bucked against you, seeking more. Desperate was a good look on Fyodor.

“You’re so pretty like this, you know that?” you said.

“Mhm,” he said, but it didn’t seem like he listened to you.

You pulled your fingers out, only to add a third as you kissed Fyodor breathless. You stifled his moans as your hand moved, fingers curving against his prostate with every stroke. The stretch was there but Fyodor barely noticed, moving against you as his orgasm neared. 

“Come on, for me?” you whispered against his lips, feeling his breath hitch. You fucked Fyodor all the way through his orgasm, not stopping your fingers even as his thighs shuddered, his spend spilling over his knuckles to trail down his belly. He was trembling all over, eyes tight shut as he gradually came down from the high.

You pulled your fingers out eventually, Fyodor wincing before going limp beside you. You gave him some time to gather himself, brushing his hair away from his temple as he sighed contently. 

“Thank you,” he said at last, the words sounding rough.

You laughed. “Wasn’t expecting a thank you after this.”

“I wasn’t either, but here we are.” He smiled lightly.

“Does that maybe mean… I might get a chance for a second thank you?”

You laughed even harder at the strained look on Fyodor’s face, even as he masked it behind a forced smile. “Well…” 

“No. No no, it’s okay. God, you’re so cute. I’m not that mean, come on,” you said, eyes filled with fondness. 

“Just making sure,” Fyodor said, turning for a kiss to your temple before his voice became gentle. “But not soon. I have work to deal with, unfortunately. At some point in the future.”

You trailed your fingers down Fyodor’s jaw, considering. Getting closer to him wasn’t easy, but seeing him like this now proved how much it was worth it. Maybe he’d trust you enough with time, be more open…

He was always too focused on what needed to be done; a workaholic at heart. Unfortunately for both of you. “I could help with that?” He didn’t say much about his upcoming deal, but you doubted it was something out of your capabilities. So long as you could ease his burden.

Fyodor smiled, pulling your hand for a kiss. “That would be too kind of you,” he said, voice seeped with honey.

You nodded, keeping your smile in place even as you felt… something. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the feeling settled in your chest, making you uncomfortable in a confusing kind of way. 

You forced it aside, focusing on Fyodor’s thumb as it stroked gently at your cheek. “Of course,” you said, sighing against his touch. 

You could hardly believe this happened. Better enjoy the small miracles than ponder over things. Fyodor was here with you, you’d figure it out eventually.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Enemies to lovers, period sex and dirty talk with james potter please 🥹

yay a kinktober request! this is why i love these things, i would've never put those together (this request gave me some saltburn vibes ngl but dw i didn't take it that direction)

mdni obviously, fem!reader wc: 3.8k - sorry i got a bit carried away; hope you enjoy!

Bloody Hell

Damn, it was like your period was on a schedule to come when as inconvenient as possible recently. You weren’t supposed to get it for a few days. You groan, clutching your achy back, considering whether this meant you had to change your Halloween costume for tonight. You were going to Sirius’s party as witch. It didn’t involve white trousers or anything ridiculously tight or short, so you felt fine wearing your fancy dress with your now necessary period pants. 

As the day dragged on, pain killers helped the cramps, but definitely not the moodiness. It’d been a while since it made you this grumpy. But, Halloween only came once a year, and you’d been excited for the party, so you try to change your attitude as you’re getting ready later.

The witch’s costume is a bit typical, but you’d loved the colours and liked the classics. Besides, it fit unusually well. Tight and loose in all the right places, the perfect skirt length, and not to mention what it did for your… bosom. You looked hot. The first person you see upon arriving at Sirius’s does not help your mood: James bloody Potter. Looking gorgeous as ever… Wait, what? No. Not gorgeous. Annoying. Yes, that was it. Annoying and smug and irritating and fit. Ugh, okay, whatever. He looked really fit. 

He hadn’t dressed too far from his normal self. Still wearing his typical leather jacket and jeans, but he’d cuffed them differently and had arranged his usually very messy luscious head of hair differently. 

“A witch, Y/L/N? Really?” God, why did his stupid, gruff voice always have such an effect on you?

“Not very creative.” “At least I dressed up, Potter. What are you supposed to be? A twat?” 

“Har-har. So witty. This, for your information, is a 1950’s look.” “Oh, is it? I thought I saw you wearing it last week.” 

He just glares at you. “Alright, alright, you two. Should’ve dressed as vampires; hasn’t even been five minutes, and you’re already at each other’s throats,” Sirius comes interrupting, giving you a quick greeting hug and shoving James a bit along the way. 

“Hi, Siri,” you hug back. “Blame your bestie. He’s the one who doesn’t know how to be nice.” “Oh, because you’re always a ray of sunshine?” James retorts. “Fucking hell,” Sirius sighs, already walking away, busy playing host. He’s already turned his back but you — both of you — clearly hear his exasperated, “Just fuck already, and stop torturing the rest of us.” 

Your wide, mortified eyes snap to James, whose expression mirrors yours. Then he just scoffs and walks away. Typical. 

The party goes on and is actually quite fun. The place is completely covered in Halloween decorations, and some of the costumes are amazing. It’s working wonders on your mood, especially when Remus arrives, but the grumpiness has a way of sneaking its way back into your system whenever Potter approaches. 

You catch him looking over at you frequently, and it gets on your nerves. What does he want? To pick a fight? And why do you care? You try to ignore him as you keep chatting to Remus.

But it becomes impossible when he comes to stand right next to you. “Alright, mate?” He claps Remus on the shoulder, completely ignoring you. 

“I’m standing right here, Potter,” you can’t help but say.

“Yes, I noticed.” “Did you? Because, you see, most people when they notice someone is having a conversation, don’t just interrupt it and ignore them.”

Remus is off with a sighed, “Not this again.” “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot how much you love my attention,” James says smugly, finally turning to you and smirking. You roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m desperate for it,” you deadpan. “Though don’t think I haven’t notice you looking at me, Potter. If I did want your attention, I wouldn’t really be left wanting, would I?”

He seems a bit flustered by this, and you love it when you actually manage to get to him, to render him speechless even if for a mere moment. So, without a clear idea of where it will even lead, you pounce on the opportunity that seems to be presenting itself. 

“Am I wrong? Why have you been so interested in what I’m doing tonight then?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, take a step closer. This really throws him.

“Pfft, have not.” He crosses his arms defensively. “Wow. So witty.” You cross your arms, mirroring him. 

This draws his gaze down to your chest, and it lingers there. He seems to catch himself after a few seconds, but it was still a few seconds too many. Interesting. 

God, was there any way Sirius was right? It was bound to happen some time. 

And even if he was… if James was… what? into you? as into you as you were him? was that what you wanted? Actually admitting the feelings sounded much scarier than relentlessly arguing with him forever. 

You’ve gotten lost in your thoughts (and, ugh, feelings), so you don’t notice how long has gone by. Nor do you notice that your demeanour is changing, shifting from teasing and challenging to reflective and slightly worried. 

“What?” James asks, noticing.

“Nothing,” you panic.

“You’re definitely thinking something.” He waves an accusatory finger around your face. “Pfft, am not.” “Wow. So witty,” he repeats, and it’s filled with glee at retaking the upper hand. 

This annoys you to no end, but you still can’t think of anything to say, so you just push past him with a “you’re so annoying.”

You try for a while to enjoy the party, to ignore James Potter — and the many thoughts and feelings about James Potter that won’t stop hounding you. You keep looking over at him, unable to help yourself. 

The seemingly millionth time you do, his eyes catch yours. You want to look away, but something keeps you from doing so. Not wanting to give him the upper hand, again? Not wanting to look away from his beautiful orbs, possibly? 

You just stare at each other from across the room for what feels like the heaviest few seconds of your life. Then his gaze drops, and rather than victory you feel… disappointment. You want him looking at you. Want to look at him back. Your disappointment doesn’t last for too long, though, as you realize he’s walking over to you.

He stops right in front of you, extremely close. He doesn’t say anything. You watch each other intently. “You’re staring at me,” he finally says. “You were staring at me first.” 

Expecting him to deny it, you’re stunned when he responds, “So what if I was?” Then he checks you out shamelessly, his eyes dragging across your whole body, lingering on your chest, exploring your face, before landing back on your own.

That’s it. Stupid, shameless Potter. You do the only thing to do: you take a tiny step forward and smash your lips against his.

He’s kissing you back ardently before you even truly realize what’s happening. His hands grasp you desperately, pulling your body into his; his mouth contorts over yours, devouring you hungrily. He moans deeply enough for you to hear it over the loud sounds of the party. When he gropes your arse, you moan back. But you also realize what the fuck is happening. In the middle of a crowded room. So you pull back from him. 

His mouth chases yours desperately, not wanting to break apart. 

“Wait, James, wait.” He does. And he’s looking at you funny. “Are you alright?” you ask him. “I like how you say my name, sweetheart.” His sincerity surprises you, melts you. So even though you can’t help yourself as you respond, “Whatever, Potter,” it’s much softer than usual, warmth where there’s usually snark. He smirks at you.

“So can we keep kissing now?” “We’re in public, James.” 

You don’t miss his lips quirk at the word. “So?” “So? I’m not a bloody exhibitionist! I have some standards…” “Toilet, then?” “Yeah, toilet,” you nod frantically. 

His hands don’t release your hips the whole way you chase each other to the bathroom. He catches the back of your neck in a couple of quick kisses, and it’s sending tingles down your whole body.

You’re extremely grateful it’s empty when you reach it, rushing in in a frenzy. James slams the door shut and wastes no time in pushing you against it. He picks up where you had left off.

His mouth is hot and delicious against yours, his tongue dancing against yours in its explorations. He enjoys your mouth but soon traces down your jaw and starts sucking on your throat. You shiver at the sensations and pull him to you, your fingers winding into his gorgeous hair. He moans at this and the vibrations directly against your skin make you whimper.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says, his lips still tracing your throat. “I love the sounds you make.” 

You hum, and he grazes his teeth across your skin, morphing your voice into a soft yelp. “Yeah, like that,” he chuckles gruffly.

The next time his mouth makes it to the base of your neck, he continues downward. He starts kissing the tops of your tits desperately, bringing his hands up your body to grope them as he does. 

“Fuck, I’ve been going mad all night looking at these. You should wear this every day.” His hands move to your hips pulling you from the door over to the sink. “C’mere,” he says as he lifts you to sit on the small counter.

You wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. You play with his hair as he kisses you fervently.

“I’ve always wanted to pull your hair,” you confess, surprising both of you with your honesty. “Oh yeah?” He looks so turned on, you throw any last inhibitions out the window. “Yeah. Fuck, you have nice hair.” You tug harshly on it, and his reacting groan is almost animalistic. His now black eyes stare directly into yours for a charged moment before he dives back into you. 

He kisses wetly down to your throat and chest, and this time when he gets to your breasts, he unceremoniously pulls your dress and bra down. 

“Fuck, you have nice tits,” he echoes and grins. He plays with them, kneading them and tugging on your nipples, rolling them between his fingers before shoving his face between them. He licks across your chest and circles your nipple with his tongue. He switches eagerly between them, puckering them both up before taking one into his greedy mouth and sucking. You let out a loud, strangled whimper at the intense and exquisite sensation, and James hums around your tit. You cradle his head against you.

Rubbing his face against your breasts, he pleads, “That’s it, baby. Keep making those sounds. I love hearing how good you feel. It’s so fucking hot.”

“Jaames,” you whine as he sucks your nipple again. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” Groping them hard one more time, he brings his hands down from your tits, massaging your sides before grabbing your thighs. He squeezes them harshly, jiggling them and running his nails across your skin. 

He’s running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, toward your center, whispering “You wet for me, baby?” when your stomach drops and you remember, panicking. You’d been so caught up in James, you’d entirely forgotten. 

“Fuck!” you yelp, pushing James away suddenly. He stumbles, then takes a steadying step back. He looks completely confused (and unreasonably sexy, all scruffed up from making out with you). “Fucking hell, Y/N. What? You alright?” 

“I — fuck, yeah, I’m fine — I just — fuck.” You cover your face with your hands and squeeze your thighs shut. “Hey,” James says much more softly. “What’s up, love? Y’alright? You’re kind of freaking me out.” “Ugh, ‘m so sorry,” you slur into your hands. He grabs your wrists gently, pulling them away from your face. “It’s alright, whatever it is. Just… can you tell me what’s wrong?” God, how you wish you could vanish in that moment. Or better, not have had your bloody — literally — body betray you like this this morning. Why this fucking time of all times to come early? 

You’re mortified, embarrassed as hell, wishing there was some way out of this without having to explain the truth and put James Potter off, probably for good. After all the time and tension it’d taken to get you here at all. 

“Y/n?”

You take a steadying breath but still can’t get the words out. So you cover your face again, only able to utter them while feeling hidden from him. “‘M on my period,” you confess. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, so you brave moving your hands down and looking up at him. You’re not sure how to read his expression. Then he grins lightly and brings his hands to your cheeks. He tucks your now messy hair behind your ears on both sides before holding your face. 

He’s surprised you several times tonight, but this next one takes the cake. “If you don’t mind, I don’t mind,” he says simply with a shrug and a caress of your cheeks. “What?” You can’t believe it. Every other guy it’d come up with before had treated it like the most disgusting thing. “I don’t mind,” he repeats, chuckling, moving his face closer to yours to look up deeply into your eyes. 

“Are you serious?” “Yeah. I mean, if you don’t want to that’s fine, obviously. Like if you’re not feeling well or whatever, but if it’s just about the blood… I can handle a little blood.” “It’s more than a little,” you whisper embarrassedly.

“I didn’t mean it literally,” he laughs. How can he seem so lighthearted? Could he really not mind?

He brings his hands back to your thighs, pulling them slowly apart, giving you time to resist the motion, stepping between them when you don’t. He messages them on either side of his hips. “So?” he asks seductively, clearly eager to continue. “You really don’t mind?" “Really. Fuck, Y/N, I’ve been wanting this so fucking long, I’d be a madman if I waited longer just because you’re on your period.” 

Worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you open your legs a bit wider at his words. The dark smirk that usurps James’s expression as you do makes your cunt pulse. God, you want him. Blood be damned. 

Slowly, so slowly it’s driving you insane, he ghosts his hands over your skin the rest of the way up your legs. When they finally reach your underwear, they snake under the waistband and tentatively pull. You lift your hips, and he yanks them the rest of the way off. 

Instinctively, you try to shut your legs. James standing where he is only lets you do it part of the way. Pushing the insides of your knees open again, he says, “No need to hide, gorgeous.” “I — “ But words fail you. So, you simply let him open your legs. 

Sensing your tension, James kisses you again. He starts softly, but you’re both so hungry for each other, so worked up already despite the interruption, that it’s only a few seconds before you’re ravaging each other again, moaning and grasping and pulling each other close. With his mouth still on yours, one hand holding your face, the other comes between your legs, grazing where your thigh meets your cunt.

You shiver, a combination of nerves and pleasure. He breaks your kiss, but rests his forehead on yours, looking straight into your eyes. He lifts his eyebrows in question, and you nod hesitantly. 

He finally brings his fingers to your center, ghosting over it. When you feel the string of your tampon under his fingers, you ashamedly let out an “Oh, god” then “sorry.”

James tssks at you and whispers, “’S alright, sweetheart. It’s fine. Maybe let’s get rid of this, though, cos it’s where I want to be, yeah?” Fuck, how could he keep turning you on even more? You nod and bring your hand between your legs. You pull out the tampon and toss it over into the rubbish bin.

Without further ado, James touches you properly. His fingers slide up and down your wet folds. Your slick and blood mix under his ministrations, but it feels so fucking unreal that you finally start not to care.

You’d always been sensitive during your period. But no one else had ever touched you during it. Nor had it been after ages of sexual tension and lustful fantasies. Every graze of his hand is divine, and when his motions become proper strokes, the full length of his fingers rubbing against you, you squeal as your head falls onto his shoulder. One hand clutches the sink, the other James. “Feel good?” he teases. “Yes,” you sigh desperately.

“How about this then?” he asks as he plunges two fingers into you. You scream. 

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he laughs. “I mean, keep screaming, but maybe not so loud. Don’t want anyone to come knocking when I’m finally this close to fucking you.”

“Fuck.” “Hmm, that’s it. Just relax, love.” His hand thrusts as his fingers curl inside you, and you clench in utter pleasure. “Fuuuck, you’re squeezing me so bloody tight, love. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” You let out some kind of strained affirmative groan and clench again. “Yeah? Want to feel me fill you up?” “Yes, fuck, yes, please.” 

“Who knew you could be this nice, Y/L/N? That all it’d take was my fingers inside you.” “Shut up, Potter.” But there’s no bite to it. “We both know you don’t want me to shut up. I can feel how much you’re enjoying this.” You just bite your lip and whimper when he pushes his thumb against your clit. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You can bring the snark back after I make you cum.” 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the thought, and you nod, giving into him. “I know I could do it like this, but I can’t wait any longer to feel you, baby.”

He pulls his hand out of you, and you whine. When you see how entirely covered in blood it is, any further sounds die in your throat at your mortification. 

“I —“ you start, but James just shakes his head and kisses you to shut you up. Not breaking apart from you, he reaches blindly for the hand towel and cleans his hands when he finally finds it. There’s still dark red traces of you on the fingers that then hurry to his trousers, opening them in a rush. He pushes them down and pulls his cock free. Your cunt clenches around nothing at the sight. “James,” you whine. “Yeah, sweetheart?” “Please fuck me.” With a deep groan, one of his hands roughly pulls your head to keep making out with you and the other grabs his cock and lines it up with your center. He pushes in fast. His mouth devours the sounds yours makes in response. 

He starts pounding in and out of you, not bothering to start slow. You’re sure you’d be wet enough regardless, but as things stand, he’s gliding in and out of you. A loud squelching sounds as he thrusts, but before you have time to be embarrassed, James moans, “Fuck, you feel so fucking amazing,” and pounds harder.

He has to bring one hand to the sink just behind you to stabilize himself from how roughly he’s going; his other hand takes a vice-like grip of your hip. His head ends up in the crook of your neck, and he kisses and sucks. Your hand comes to his hair, your other arm clinging around his shoulders clutching him as your whole body reverberates with his movements.

He slows down only enough to lean his head slightly down to where your tits are bouncing. He sucks your nipple and keeps it in his mouth as he keeps fucking into you. At the harsh and unexpected suck, you scream again. He makes no effort to quiet you. 

With his face at your chest, he’s opened a bit of space between your bodies, and he brings a hand to where he keeps disappearing in and out of you. He starts rubbing messily on your clit. 

With that sensation on top of all the others that have your body on fire, you cum violently around him with strangled yell. 

He thrusts through it, but a few clenches of your pussy later, he can’t help but cum too. Your clutching cunt milks him dry. 

He’s panting loudly when he finally stops moving, his hips still, his face resting on your chest. An aftershock ripples through him, and his body gives a quick shake. Then he gives your breast a quick peck before moving to kiss your mouth. It doesn’t last; he’s so out of breath, but he rests his forehead on yours as he recovers. His arms rest on the sink on either side of you, caging you in. You feel warm and safe, and you stroke up and down his strong arms. He smiles and pecks your lips. 

“Not bad, Potter,” you finally break the silence. He chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“You cannot possibly act nonchalant after the sounds you just made, Y/L/N. I’m surprised no one burst in here thinking someone was getting murdered.”

You laugh together. It’s concerningly nice.

When you settle down, James looks between you. He pulls out gently. And it’s a fucking mess. 

“I don’t think the words ‘bloody hell’ have ever been so appropriate,” he jokes, staring at it. “Oh god,” you say, covering your face in your hands again. “C’mon, Y/L/N. I thought we were past this bit.” It’s harsh but encouraging as he pulls your hands from your face and quickly kisses your forehead. “C’mon,” he offers as he helps lift you off the counter in a way that lets you hop over the… puddle. 

You both stand there staring at the crimson crime scene of a sink. 

Looking at it but leaning toward you, James asks, “D’you think we could get away with saying it’s Halloween decorations?” 

You burst out laughing again.

“The blood, maybe, but… there’s some of you there too…” 

“Well, at least our first time is certainly memorable. Happy Halloween, Y/L/N.” 

Your heart does something funny at “first time.” So, you ignore it for now and simply say, “Help me clean this up before Sirius actually does murder us in here.”