#and being met with conversation like this is meaningful to me

[shalom-iamcominghome]

About your earlier post, you are most certainly not boo boo the fool for wanting to wear your kippah out and proud; I love that you’re standing strong. I completely understand why people don’t want to wear it but we as men need to not let our fear get in the ways of showing/wearing our tradition. Again not bashing any dude who decides to hide or take off their kippah, but more of just wish and hope that we stand firm and strong for our G-d and his Torah.

I appreciate the thought you've given not just to myself but in recognizing others who don't or can't follow suit. I definitely did notice that other guys did it in my shul but... I didn't realize it, if that makes sense. I can't assume why they do it, but I truly hope it's not because of fear.

I just... really wanted to thank you, though, because I've been having a lot of feelings about all of this, and while I don't show it, it's been hard to process. I'm forever grateful not only for the kindness I have received online, but offline as well - I hope I can show the same kindness as you. And I hope to one day live in a future where we don't even have to question our safety

[twunkzilla]

Ngl it's so annoying when people try to make like. sex between a man and a woman "queer" like... this is something you do in privacy and you're worried about being valid? you are worried about the opinions of strangers on what you do in the bedroom because you're both bi or trans or something? like? there is no queer dude it's not real it died a long time ago

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

i feel like it's also worth adding that these grown ass women with jobs and families risked losing those things and going to jail for the crime of creating, sharing, and engaging with gay fiction. read that again. read it a third time.

a huge factor in the boom of positive, well-written queer representation we've had in the last decade or so is that creators who grew up in and were influenced by fandom have aged into positions to push for it in the professional creative sphere. audiences who grew up in fandom aged into the group where they could contribute money to those projects, now that the door was finally open; audiences who were already in that bracket, and had been desperate for decades for decent queer rep to put support behind, jumped at the chance. people like to brush it off as ~not that deep~ and act like it's ~terminally online~ and ~cringe~ to pretend fandom--let alone shipping specifically--has any kind of meaningful influence. but it has had a powerful, demonstrable positive impact going back more than half a century, and none of that would have been possible if the infrastructure of modern fandom hadn't already been made.

women who put everything on the line--put in money and blood and sweat and tears and fear for their entire goddamn lives--to build our spaces in secret have done a hell of the fuck a lot more for the representation of queer love in fiction than any of you shitheads whining about how fandom is too shipping-focused, how these hags belong in the kitchen should be doing their taxes and raising their children instead of '''invading fandom spaces.''' these women did genuine actual fucking grassroots activism against systemic oppression so you, the assholes in the audience, could sit on your ass and reap the benefits while you actively contribute to the resurgence of that systemic oppression, no less.

do your research, put your money where your mouth is to contribute a tenth of what these women did for society, or shut the fuck up.

I know "60s housewives who invented slash fanfiction" has taken on a life of its own as a phrase, but Kirk/Spock didn't really exist until the 70s and THOSE WOMEN HAD JOBS. They were teachers and librarians and bookkeepers and scientists and they damn well spent their own money going to conventions, printing zines, buying fanart and making fandom happen. Put some respect on their names.

[igotanidea]

Almost there: Anthony Bridgerton x reader

part 1: Too much

part 2 : Not enough

***

„One of those days you will get us both in trouble, Eloise.”

Due to some miracle, Y/N and her second-in-age sister in law managed to escape the watchful gaze of all, lady Danburry, Violet and Daphne, and rushed forward on the promenade. It was generally frowned upon, that the married lady strolled in the presence of a girl, who wasn’t even a débutante yet, but neither of those two seemed to take much interest in ton’s opinion.

“Trouble from merely speaking the truth?”

“Shall I remind you that this virtue is long forgotten in the society full of hypocrisy and deceit?” Y/N whispered taking Eloise’s arm to at least keep the pretences of being discreet. It would be unwise to let anyone else eavesdrop on the little exchange of words between close friends.

“It’s almost like you don’t trust me, my dear sister-in-law.” Eloise chuckled feigning the pompous tone.

“Please don’t ever call me like that again. You were my friend before you were my family. Don’t put the distance between us now. ”

“If anything I’d dare say I’m the reason you met with Anthony and –“ the sentence was cut out abruptly, as Eloise realised that Y/N was currently in the middle of a heavy argument with her husband. An argument that made her flee the house and turned out on the doorstep on the other Bridgerton’s house announced, in search for a friendly soul to talk to. And now she actually realised that all that may have been her fault from the beginning. If Y/N and Anthony have never met, they never would have fought and never—

“Stop overthinking it, dear.” The current viscountess chuckled observing her friend’s slightly hazy gaze and recognising it instantly. Clearly Eloise was getting lost in her own head.

‘Do not call me that!” the girl’s eyes became sharp and conscious again “I can hardly stand being called that affectionately by my mother, let alone by you.”

“Worked just as planned though.”

“Well, my biggest congratulations on being effective in the matter. You are almost as good at me with it.” 

“Oh, almost? From what I can recollect I taught you most of those tricks.” Y/N smiled brightly.

“Really?” Eloise raised an eyebrow “I can’t remember. Hey what do you say we run away from our chaperones and have a proper, meaningful discussion on what’s troubling you?”

“I wish it was that easy. But I’m a wife now and apparently –“

“Viscountess Bridgerton!” a sudden voice came from in front of them and Y/N felt like actually taking Eloise advice and rushing off. It was almost like the whole world decided to prey on her misery on that particular day. First lady Danburry, now lady Featherington. “How lovely to see you! Marriage serves you well. You are beaming, dear.”

Y/N gritted her teeth in hardly hidden annoyance at such obvious show of nosiness and lack of tact. She knew instantly that she had to cut the conversation short before another wave of unwanted questions about her blessed (or not) state would come.

‘Lady Featherington. Pleasure to see you there. Are your daughters accompanying you or are they occupied with their upcoming prenuptial agreements? I surely hope they would be as fortunate with their future husbands as I am with mine. And speaking of which, if you excuse me, I need to discuss a very urgent matter on the subject with my family.”She put an emphasis on two last word and not waiting for response, abandoning all the rules of the lady behaviour, tried to drag Eloise away almost sighing deeply in frustration.

„Oh, but viscountess, once Penelope weds Colin, we will be a family.” lady Featherington stopped both girls in their tracks before they managed to escape.

„I beg your pardon, what now?”

‘Oh, you didn’t know, viscountess? Your brother-in-law is about to marry my youngest daughter. By some miracle, clearly, since Penelope--” Portia started rambling without a care in the world.

„Oh I know about that part.” Y/N faked a smile that didn’t reach her eyes „I merely have the deep conviction that us becoming family is rather an improbable claim.”

„But--”

„Dearest lady Featherington, do not push my hand here. I would rather stay in amity with you. A very fragile alliance shall you pry into my private matters. I dare say you have a certain interest in using those bold statements? ”

„I beg your pardon?”

„The viscount, is still in the charge of his famliy’s - our family’s finances. And that shall include the future fortune of Colin. Shall you insist on intruding me during my leisure time I might have a word with my husband.”

„You truly do not  disgrace yourself with being modest, do you, Y/N? Has social advancement changed you so much? I clearly remember you being a scrawny child with no aspiration and position and look at you now. A snake in a sparkish dress.”

„She can at least choose the colour that highlights her beauty and doesn't make her look like--”

„Thank you Eloise.” Y/N cut her off before she could cause some more havoc. Lady Featherington was an onerousness but her gossiping nature was something Y/N did not need in the current situation. „I shall believe lady Portia will keep our little conversation in mind for the future purposes. Hers and her daughter’s.

„Actually if the viscount is around --”

„Unfortunately, matters of utmost importance kept him at home today.” Y/N responded with the most patience she could gather at the moment. There was always a possibility of farewelling the unwanted company, but as previously stated - there was no need of spreading the rumours of some discrepancies between the newlyweds. This hydra had to be beheaded immediately before the news spread throughout London.

„Such a shame you were left to tend for yourself then viscountess.”

„I shall believe I’d receive the most warm welcome back once my husband free himself of all the duties and occupations.”

***

While Y/N was having a lively discussion with indefatigable Portia Featherington, someone was observing her closely from behind the tree, staying unnoticed themselves.

 “Are you spying on her now?”

“I’m not spying!”

“Oh really? Then tell me brother, why on Earth would you hide in the bush instead of accompanying your wife on the promenade? If I were you –“

“Good thing you are not.” Anthony muttered grumpily keeping his eyes fixed on his wife’s silhouette. Even with her cheeks reddened from the indignation and eyes sparkling with cunning intelligence she was the most beautiful woman he has ever laid his eyes on. If anything, those characteristic may have only been adding to her charm.

he viscount may not have heard all the words exchanged between two ladies, but the way Y/N was keeping lady Portia at bay, standing her own ground and not wavering in the slightest was admirable and worthy of a viscountess. Serving as a reminder that his wife was not a fragile bird who was - in his opinion- in dire need of his protection and care, but rather  a capable, strong woman, who would survive on her own.

Which brought him to another conclusion - that she didn’t rely on him as much as he expected her to. That she was proud enough to get the audacity to leave his home, leave him and decided (solely by herself!) to pay a visit to his sister.

“If I were you—“ Benedict grinned mischievously “I would run and drag Y/N away from Eloise before those two officially call you an idiot and make a plan for Y/N to leave you for good.” apparently the second son was capable of reading his older brother’s mind and pointing out all the worries that were already inside viscount’s head

“She would never.”

“I am unaware of the scope of your failure, but given the fact your wife rushed to Eloise, out of all the people must have been immense.”

“That’s it!’ Anthony hissed, almost crawling out from behind the tree, ready to clear this misunderstanding immediately.

***

„Oh, my dear!” Lady Featherington placed her hands on her hips as if she wanted to emphasize her higher position and knowledge of male-female relations. „Do not occupy yourself with the romance fantasies. Courtship is gone once the knot is tied. And after a child is born--” her gaze landed on Y/N’s stomach „you put all the efforts into keeping the family afloat and secure the future of the offspring.”

„I believe--”

„Viscountess, you are so young. So naive and innocent. Fed on the novels and stories.”

„Most of which cover the topic of history, literature and medicine rather than Shakespeare plays.” now the young woman was getting angry her cheeks flushing  „topics which I boldly presume are far from your interest.”

„I beg your-”

„I kindly forgive you, lady Featherington. Now if you excuse us - I shall wish you a good day.”

„I am not--”

„Lady Featherington.”

The sudden deep voice coming from behind made all the ladies turn around at once.

„Viscount.” Portia bowed slightly „I was just having a little chat with your wife.”

„Educating her on the specificity of marital relations?”

„Giving her some of the knowledge that her prematurely deceased mother - God rest her soul - did not have the opportunity to teach her”

„How kind of you.” Anthony almost smirked and Y/N had to muffle the chuckle forming in the back of her throat looking down. It was like she saw the old him. „However I suppose that once I am here, you shall be free of your educative duties?”

„I--”

„do not preoccupy yourself my lady. My wife shall not lack the company from now on.” having said that, Antony walked right to Y/N offering her an arm and - a sight truly unexpected - bid the older lady goodbye while leading the viscountess away.

„I didn’t need you to save me.”

„such a shame I happened to be around then.”

„My undoing indeed.”

„Unforunate event that you might have to keep the externals for the duration of a stroll.” Anthony held her tighter and closer to him while nodding head to the acquaintance.

***

„Did you gather some intel on the current situation of our brother and his lovely wife?” Benedict, who followed the two of them without any hesitation, asked Eloise.

„I am Y/N’s confidante, I shall never-”

„You cannot trick me sister.”

„Anthony is an idiot.”

„I had quite a feeling you would say something like that. Now- shall we interfere or remain passive observers as Antony makes a fool of himself begging for her forgiveness?”

Eloise smirked as they continued their following.

She and Benedict always understood each other without words.

Edit: part 4 Stuck

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @cat-lockwood @pr3ttyfac3jaelyn

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

The Best Friend Showdown

Season four had many, many flaws. One of the big ones was the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict where Ladybug starts relying on Alya more and more, basically using her to replace Master Fu. We get a sense that Chat Noir feels inferior to Rena Rouge because of this change, but it’s never directly addressed. The most we get is this conversation from Hack-San:

Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right. 

Which is actually a really weird bit of dialogue because - as far as I can tell - nothing in the episode revealed that Scarabella knew Ladybug's identity. She hands out miraculous all the time and no one knows who she really is. Why would this time be different? Ladybug could just show up in costume, explain what's up, and then hand off the earrings while using yet another miraculous.

Anyway, the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict is “resolved” by Rena Rouge being outed again (and I guess that matters this time), leading her to give up her miraculous so that Gabriel can’t steal it away, which of course leads Gabriel to steal it away and fully disempower Ladybug’s larger team, leaving Chat Noir her only teammate.

How satisfying! This is such good, character-driven story telling!

It’s not. This is plot contrivances to the max with no meaningful character beats, but we’re not here to talk about that. We’re here to do one of my favorite things: gush about a relevant Kim Possible episode! Today’s topic is episode 12 of season one: Pain King vs. Cleopatra, the episode that introduces Kim’s female BFF, Monique!

This was a bit of a shocker for me because I didn’t realize that Kim and Monique weren’t pre-series friends. Turns out that, much like Alya, Monique is a new girl, which isn’t a bad call. This was a nice way to delay Monique’s introduction for a few episodes so that the writers could focus on establishing Kim’s relationship with other key members of the cast like her partner, Ron. Spacing out your intros is the way to go whenever you can pull it off as it’s a kindness to your audience that keeps them from feeling overwhelmed, making it more likely that they’ll remember your cast.

The other, more important similarity between Alya and Monique is that, when Kim’s hero partner and life-long friend finds out about Monique, he is less than thrilled:

Kim: I barely got to see them. Right after I hooked up with Monique, the museum was robbed by some glowing-headed animal guy. Ron: Oh, that's nice. Ron: Wait a minute, who's Monique? Kim New friend, really great. Anyway, the thief stole an enchanted ancient talisman. Ron: Whoa, whoa, back up! How can I not know about a new friend? Kim: I met her at Club Banana, then again at the museum before I chased the glowing robber. Ron: So what's she like? Kim: The robber? Ron: The friend, Kim, the "new friend".

Throughout the episode, Kim and Monique continue to bond without Ron, leaving Ron feeling left out:

Ron: Seein' a pattern here, Rufus: Kim does her thing, I do my thing, and pretty soon - we're doing different things.

Which leads him to get a little territorial:

Kim Ron! What are you doing here? Ron: Can I dine with my best friend and her new friend? Kim: Uuh, Ron, Monique, and vice versa. Ron: Bearclaw? Monique: No, thanks, I'm vegetarian. Ron: Uhm, I'm pretty sure it's imitation bear? Kim: She's joking, Ron. Ron: Good one, hahaha, ha, good one. So, did Kim tell you that I'm her sidekick? Cause that role is definitely taken by me. Monique: Riiiight. Well, in... you know I better get to class. Later, Kim. Um, n-nice meeting you, Ron. Ron: Likewise, I'm sure! Kim: What is your problem? You're acting really weird. Ron: Well, let's see. You went to the museum with Monique, not me. Monique was with you this morning, not me. Hmm, pattern? Kim: Yeah. You. Weird. Ron: No, we're drifting apart because you're excluding me. Kim: I am not excluding you. It's just that you and Monique are... different.

Noticing some similarities to Miraculous here?

So how does Kim Possible resolve this conflict?

Well, the plot of this episode resolves around Kim Possible’s version of professional wrestling, the GWA. There’s a competition going on that Kim has no interest in watching (mood), but when Kim mentions the GWA to Monique:

Monique: Why didn't you bring [Ron] along? Kim: Unless someone put a waiter in a headlock, this is definitely not Ron's scene. Besides, he had a date with "Steel Toe". Monique: He scored tickets to Mayhem in Middleton? The GWA rocks! Kim: What?

It turns out that Monique and Ron have a shared interest! Multiple shared interests, in fact! Interests that Kim does not share:

Monique: You know, I still can't believe you met Pain King and Steel Toe. Ron: I can't believe you're into wrestling. Kim: I can't believe I know either one of you.

By the end of the episode, the conflict is resolved not with Kim having to pick a BFF or with Monique somehow being demoted, but by showing that this didn’t need to be a conflict at all. Kim can have multiple close friends that she shares different interests with without any of those friends being lesser. Those friends can, in turn, have their own friendships that don’t always involve her.

It’s a genuinely lovely resolution that makes me love this little friend group because it now has added complexity. Monique and Ron are friends in their own right! Kim is not the center of the universe in spite of her main character status!

I also love that Kim isn’t vilified for having other friends or portrayed as constantly leaving Ron out of things that he'd want to do in favor of Monique. Ron genuinely would not enjoy most of the things that the girls love to do together. At the same time, Ron’s feeling aren’t treated as totally irrational either and Kim even admits to ditching him. It’s a genuine, complex conflict that is super common when someone enters a new relationship be it platonic or romantic.

Obviously Kim Possible’s version of this conflict feels far less complex than Miraculous’ because Kim Possible understood that Ron should be Kim’s one-and-only partner, so his position was really never threatened. Monique does not want to be an action hero and is never given the sort narrative weight that elevates her to Ron’s level or higher, but that doesn't matter. The basic lesson here is still relevant and super important for the intended audience of both of these shows.

There did not need to be a Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict that never got properly resolved. Miraculous could have made these two friends and no, Scarabella doesn't count because Chat Noir has no idea that Scarabella is Rena Rouge/Furtive. Their relationship ended at the end of Hack-San. He didn't even know that Rena Furtive was a thing until she was in the process of being benched and that's the problem.

Kim Possible is not a team show, Miraculous is, and yet Kim Possible has better team dynamics than Miraculous. Monique could have joined Kim's team at the end of Pain King vs. Cleopatra and it would have felt natural because both Kim and Ron had welcomed Monique and formed a genuine bond with her. This is a true friend group that Miraculous can only dream of even though they've been adding new superheroes since season two.

We're going into a season with a full, massive team and yet that team has no established dynamics on the hero side. It's not a functional team! None of these characters have meaningful relationships with each other as heroes save for Alya and Nino since they know each other’s secret identities. The only relationships Miraculous cares about are the various romances and everyone's relationship to Marinette and everyone suffers for it.

The show would not have been harmed by Rena Rouge, Chat Noir, and Ladybug being a team. It was the thing I kept think after watching the Kim Possible episode. Since the team is the end game, why aren't we seeing them? It would have been so nice to have Hack-San end with Ladybug introducing Chat Noir to Rena Furtive instead of a nonsense discussion about an issue the episode didn't even address.

[callsigns-haze]

I love your Tyler fics so much, I just love imagining dad/husband Tyler 😭😭 can I please request something where he always introduces her to people as “my wife”? Like they’re newlyweds and he just loves slipping in “wife” whenever he can 🥹

The Weight of a Word

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Chapter of all fluff

A/N: So I reached 500 followers today and got a few fics done...

The sky above them was a shifting tapestry of dark clouds, a fitting backdrop for the storm-chasing team that had just reunited. The air was thick with tension, the thrill of the chase palpable in every glance and gesture. But amidst the chaos, there was a lightness to Tyler Owens, a quiet joy that radiated from him like sunshine breaking through the storm clouds.

Tyler stood by the team’s van, his arm casually draped over Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her close. They had been together for years now, but something had changed in the past few months—something that Tyler couldn’t quite keep to himself, no matter how hard he tried. He was still basking in the glow of their recent wedding, the memory of saying “I do” still fresh and vivid in his mind. It was a feeling he cherished, a pride that he carried with him everywhere they went.

“Tyler!” one of the team members called, approaching with a wide grin. “You ready for this? We’ve got a big one heading our way.”

Tyler nodded, his eyes flicking from the sky to his teammate, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to share his happiness, had to let the world know how lucky he was. “Yeah, we’re ready,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face as he gave Y/N’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “By the way, have you met my wife?”

There it was again—that word. It rolled off his tongue so easily now, but every time he said it, he felt a surge of pride and love. Wife. The title still felt new, like a shiny badge he got to wear every day, and he couldn’t help but show it off. He turned to Y/N, his eyes sparkling with affection, and she smiled back at him, clearly amused by how much he enjoyed saying it.

The teammate chuckled, extending a hand to Y/N. “Nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Y/N replied with a grin, shaking his hand.

Tyler watched the exchange, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He loved seeing her here, a part of his world, blending into the life he led so effortlessly. And more than that, he loved the way she looked at him when he called her his wife, like she was just as thrilled by the title as he was.

As they continued to prepare for the storm, Tyler couldn’t resist sneaking in the word whenever he got the chance. Introducing her to anyone new, he would say it with that same proud grin—“This is my wife.” Even in casual conversation with the team, it slipped in naturally: “My wife thinks this storm is going to be a big one,” or “We’ve been talking about this since before we got married.”

It wasn’t just the word itself that mattered, though it did make him feel like he was part of something bigger, something more meaningful. It was the way Y/N’s eyes lit up every time he said it, the way she would squeeze his hand or lean into him just a little bit closer. It was the way she made him feel like he was doing something right, just by loving her, just by being proud to call her his.

As the storm began to close in, the team started moving with more urgency, checking their equipment and finalizing their plans. But even in the midst of the chaos, Tyler couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at Y/N every now and then, his heart swelling with affection. They had always been a team, but this was different. This was forever.

“Tyler,” Y/N said softly, drawing his attention as they stood together, watching the sky. “You know you don’t have to keep introducing me like that, right?”

He looked at her, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “I know, but I can’t help it. I just… I love saying it. I love the way it feels.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head slightly, but the warmth in her eyes told him she understood. “Well, I love hearing it. So I guess we’re both happy.”

Tyler leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and then pulled back to look at her. “I promise, I’ll never get tired of calling you my wife.”

“And I’ll never get tired of being your wife,” she replied, her voice soft and sincere.

As the wind picked up and the first raindrops began to fall, Tyler knew they had to focus on the task at hand. But even as they ran to their positions, as the storm loomed ever closer, he couldn’t shake the joy that filled him every time he said that word.

Wife.

It was more than just a title; it was a promise, a declaration of his love, a reminder of the life they had chosen to build together. And no matter how many storms they faced, no matter how wild the weather got, Tyler knew that this was the one thing that would always anchor him, the one thing that mattered most.

As they stood side by side, ready to face whatever the storm would bring, Tyler took Y/N’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. And with a smile that reached his eyes, he whispered one last time, just for the two of them:

“My wife.”

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[5:24 pm]

"Nice try, we don't believe you guys," your friend laughed sarcastically as they walked through your front door to catch sight of you and childhood best friend!Jeno pressed together looking like a loved up couple.

For some reason, over the nearly 20 years of friendship with Jeno, it had become some kind of ongoing bit for the two of you to act like a couple. Usually you had good reason, like someone being annoying and not leaving either of you alone, or someone hitting on either one of you but not getting the hint.

Other times, it was just to mess with your friends, your friends who were far too used to it and tired of it. At least 80% of the hang outs you all had would start with you and Jeno claiming you were a couple. The first few times they fell for it, but now it was just the normal. They weren't tired because it wasn't funny, it was kind of funny. Funny because the two of you were so clearly in love with each other yet refuse to act on it.

Jeno never protected anyone the way he protected you. You didn't care for anyone the way you cared for Jeno. You both had so many inside jokes that the others would never understand. You both could have conversations with just your eyes, you both knew things about the other that no normal friends would know about each other. You were both each other's first call when something went wrong, the first text in the morning, and your last text at night (if you didn't fall asleep while on a call). You both refused to get into relationships with other people, because somethings always felt "wrong."

Yeah, your friends had all decided that you were both idiots and the "wrong-ness" was always just that the potential partner wasn't you or Jeno. However, tonight you and Jeno had decided to commit. Your friends were going to believe it if it was the last thing they did.

"We're actually like really together this time, today is officially one week and 3 days," you tell your friends as you all settle down on the couch to start your movie marathon.

"We've fallen for that too many times now. Just give it up," your friend waves off.

"Yeah, start the movie," another friend sighs.

Jeno gulps, standing suddenly, "I think we would really just appreciate the support of our friends as we navigate our new relationship."

"Look guys, it's the same routine every time. You guys claim to be together and the only difference is that you take your usual affection to another level of annoying. If you were ever actually together, you wouldn't feel the need to announce it every few weeks or still be on dating apps. I mean, Jeno, didn't you ask me just a few days ago why you were still getting Hinge emails?" Your first friend asks, crossing their arms.

"Plus, I think you guys would be that annoying couple that would be shameless and kiss in front of us all the time," another friend pipes up.

Jeno's face falls into a serious look, he grabs your hand and tugs you up. Your chest crashes into his own as your eyes widen in surprise. The plan had simply been to cuddle, giggle, and maybe sit in his lap.

Your friends all paused, eyes full of caution as they watched the two of you. Jeno's breathing was uneven and nervous as his eyes searched your own.

You blinked and his forehead was pressed against your own and as you gasped in surprise his lips met your own. He was still for just a moment, giving you the opportunity to pull away, to smack him, to tell him he was crazy, but you didn't.

Instead, your breath hitched as you kissed him back. His lips were soft and his hands even softer as he delicately cupped your face. Your lips moved in sync, slow, tentative, but meaningful. You could feel your heart pounding in your ears, his heart was beating just as fast under your hand.

Your friends all eyed each other awkwardly. This had never happened before. It was only when your hand moved from Jeno's chest to gripping the cotton at his waist to pull him closer that they all got the message and left while high fiving each other on the way out.

You and Jeno were far too entangled in one another to even care. One of hands went from your face to your waist and the other went to the back of your neck. His gently tilted your head up to kiss you more deeply.

Everything was slow and passionate, but it felt right. There were explosions happening all around you, remnant sparks from Jeno's lips that shot right down your spine. Why had you waited so long to do this? Why had you deprived yourself of this feelings for all these years? You couldn't even fight how your body melted against his as your grip on his shirt became desperate and your lungs burned for air. You couldn't find it in yourself to pull away, too greedy for more, more, more.

Jeno pulled away first, lips swollen and chest heaving as he caught his breath. His forehead was pressed against your own, "I don't think we can be friends anymore."

A choked squeak escaped your throat involuntarily, "I'm sorry?"

"No, don't be sorry. I could have said that better," Jeno chuckles, his hands softly cupping your face to keep you from looking away. "I can't be just friends with you when I don't have friendly feelings for you. I can't believe it took this long, it's always been something in the back of my mind, but I think I love you-- no. I know I love you."

"After that kiss, I don't have friendly feelings for you either. I guess when I think about it, there's no one else that will get me like you. No one will ever know me better than you or understand me like you do. I love you too, Jeno. And I really, really want to keep kissing you," You confess breathlessly.

"I don't think they'd like it if we keep kissing, unfortunately," Jeno sighs, despite his words leaning in toward you again.

It's then that you notice how quiet your living room is. You pull away to look around the room, finally noticing that it's just you and Jeno in your apartment. "What the... when did everyone leave?" You wonder aloud.

"Who cares? Let's keep kissing," Jeno replies, tugging you closer. And who are you to argue?

[spencereidluver]

E is for Even Guys Like Me?

september 12, 2008

summary: You tell Spencer about the conversation you'd overheard with his mother. He gets embarrassed, and even a little angry.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: the slightest teensiest bit of angst. mostly just a lot of spencer crushing for reader

It had been a little over two weeks since you overheard Spencer’s phone call with his mother. You’d been making it your mission to drop little hints at him about your feelings being the same, but they all seemed to just go over his head. You decided it’d be best to find a moment and tell him directly before it’s too late. 

You were on a case right now, you and Spencer once again staying back in the PD to work on the intellectual side of things. Though a lot of time was spent together, this was not a time for deep conversations. You’d wait on the case before you said anything. You didn’t want to distract the genius. Because, despite what he had told Hotch in your meeting last month, Spencer did most of the work. You were just there on the off chance that he didn’t know something, which was pretty much never.

Three days went by, you had to try your best to not be too flirtatious with Spencer. He got flustered fast. And you weren’t sure how experienced he was, you didn’t want to move too quickly. Though your guys’ carpooling and coffee sharing was normal, it felt different for you now. More meaningful. You caught yourself blushing sometimes when the tall boy would bring in two cups of coffee, one with his name and one with yours. He’d even begun leaving sticky notes on them sometimes, ever since you did the morning of the phone call. You’ve saved them all in your desk, his handwritten script being some of the most effortlessly beautiful things you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on.

_____

You’re seated on the jet on the way home from the case. Directly to your left, is Spencer, who is deeply entranced in a book, “A Study in Scarlet,” by Arthur Conan Doyle, the book that he received in last year’s white elephant gift exchange, which took place before you began working at the BAU. Across from you is Emily and Derek, and Hotch and Rossi are at the booth behind her. JJ stayed home for this case as she is pregnant. She is in charge of files until she gives birth and returns from maternity leave. 

The silence in the jet is broken by a head turn from Hotch who clears his throat. “Are you three up for dinner tonight?” He says.

“My treat,” Rossi adds. 

“Well, if Papa Dave is paying, then of course I’ll be there,” Emily says.

“Sure, I’ll go,” you said, glancing over at Spencer who hadn’t even looked up from his book. “I’m sure Spence will come too.” Derek kicked you under the table and gave you a wink. His teasings were the main reason you haven't made any moves on Spencer prior to hearing him speak to his mother about you. 

Almost on beat, Spencer looks up, “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll just need a ride if that’s alright,” he said. His eyes met yours.

“I’ll give you a ride, Spence.” Another kick from Derek, this time, you kick him back. Emily catches on to the teasing game of footsies going on under the table and gives you and Derek a cheeky grin. You roll your eyes at the two of them and pull your feet into your lap. Sitting criss-cross now, you pull out your book of crossword puzzles and begin scribbling answers.

_____

You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed. Emily and Derek had fallen asleep, and not a peep had been heard from Rossi or Hotch either. Spencer was still awake and was coming up on the final few pages of his book. He was curled into a small ball against the wall in the corner of the seat, his knees to his chest and feet pointed toward you. His mismatched socks peeked out from beneath his khakis, one pink and one yellow. The shoestring of his left converse was coming untied. Untied! That was the answer to the last line of your puzzle! You subconsciously thank Spencer for his accidental aid to your old woman games, and it’s almost as if he heard it. He looks at his watch, then up at you.

“Hmm, we should be back in Quantico in 17 minutes. Taking to account the wind speed, maybe even 16,” he says. He crinkles his nose and returns to the last pages of his book. You scribble in the final word of your crossword puzzle and begin to pack up. You slide your puzzle book into your small carry on backpack, and begin to clear off the rest of the table. You pick up yours and Emily’s empty coffee mugs and reach around Spencer’s elbows which were rested against the table to grab his. You stack the three mugs together and grab Derek’s plate. Derek was the only person you knew who would eat four pork chops at 3pm, then agree to go to dinner only two hours later. 

Spencer sees you take his mug and looks up at you. He gives you a smile and whispers a soft “thank you.” 

_____

Spencer was seated on the passenger side of your car. His eyes were following the flashing lights as you drove down the city streets in the darkness. It was 7:30pm. A little late for dinner, but it’s when the jet got back. Plus, you were hungry.

The light was hitting Spencer’s face in a way that made him look ethereal. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Hey, Spence,” you say, alluding a hum in response. Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” he looked at you. Somehow, from the repositioning of his head, the lighting somehow hit his face even better. The yellow luminescence shining through the windows made the honey brown of his eyes almost 3-dimensional. It felt as if he was looking inside of you. He was truly breathtaking.

“Okay,” you sigh, “please don’t hate me, but I kind of overheard you and your mom’s conversation…”

“What?”

“Well, just your side. I know I shouldn’t have, but I just couldn’t… I just… I need to-”

Spencer interrupts you. It was dark, but you could tell his cheeks were red. “So you were eavesdropping?”

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I just…”

“How much did you hear?”

“It was only the end. If you would’ve been talking about something personal I would’ve left but-”

“How is me opening up about my feelings for someone not personal?” He seemed a little angry.

“No, it is, and I know I shouldn’t have, but…”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have, y/n.”

“Spencer, I…” You looked at the man in the seat beside you. You didn’t want this conversation to upset him. You really wished you hadn’t spoken. You could see the betrayal in his eyes. You felt truly awful.

“You what?” He broke the silence, eyes meeting yours. He stared at you intently. 

You took a moment, trying to find the words to say. You didn’t want to break his trust even more. “Spencer, I like you too.”

His eyes were blown huge. “Huh?” “I like you too. I’ve liked you since I first started working here. I didn’t want to try anything because I didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you even date because I know some people with this job don’t. And-”

You were rambling. You were trying your best to defend yourself. Spencer’s eyes were searching your face. He was profiling you. You were telling the truth.

“I, wow. I didn’t know you felt that way, y/n…”

You reached for his hand. It was cold and shaky. You ran your thumb over the back of it, letting it raise and drop with the veins it crossed. He began shaking even more, so you let go. He snaps his hand to his thigh, and with his other hand, traces the tracks you’d left. He smiles to himself and lets out a large sigh. 

_____

“You guys have a good night,” Rossi says as he climbs into his luxury sedan. The team had just finished a large dinner and were beginning to head their separate ways. 

“Don’t worry, Papa Dave, I’ll get the kid home safe,” Derek says, giving Spencer a playful noogie. 

Spencer agreed to a ride home from Derek at dinner. Maybe it was because their houses were only a few streets away from each others’, or maybe, he still felt a little awkward from your previous conversation with him. You didn’t mind all that much though, after all, you’d finally openly expressed your feelings for him. That was enough for one night.

Rossi carefully backs out of the parking lot, leaving you, Spencer, and Derek still remaining. You stuff your hands in your coat pocket; it’s chilly. You want this night to last forever, yet simultaneously, you hoped it’d end right now. You tilted your head toward your car. Spencer understood.

“Derek,” he says, “are you about ready?”

“Yeah, we can head out whenever you want.”

Spencer ran his hand through his hair before turning around to look at you. He gave you a smile. “I’ll see you Monday, y/n.”

“Bye, Spence,” you say, returning the smile.

_____

“Hey, Derek,” Spencer says as he rubs his fingers over his knuckles. 

“What’s up, kid?” Derek responds. He looks over to meet eyes with him quickly.

“Can I, um… can I ask you a question?” Spencer looks at Derek like a lost puppy.

“Woah, the boy genius asking me a question? What has this world come to?”

“It’s about girls.”

“Oh. I see.” Derek knew of Spencer’s trouble with girls. Despite the darkness, he could see the light in the skinny man’s eyes. “Come at me, big guy.” He gave Spencer a pat on the back.

“How do I like… ask one on a date?”

“Oooh, who’s the special lady? Hmmm?”

“Derek, I’m being serious. Please.” 

Derek could hear Spencer’s plea in his voice. He understood that Spencer was confiding something foreign to him and truly needed the help of an experienced man.

“Well, what does she like? Don’t take her somewhere too extravagant. Maybe a nice dinner or a breakfast date. Start simple and see how it goes.”

“Okay, but like, how?”

“Step one is speaking to her.”

“I have spoken to her… a lot.”

“The main thing, kid, is just to sound confident. Even if you’re not.”

“But what if she says no? Like how do I turn away from that?”

“There’s no reason for her to say no.”

“Yeah, but like… what if she does? What if she thinks I’m weird? Maybe this is a bad idea…” 

Spencer was spiraling. Derek reaches over and puts his arm on Spencer’s shoulder. He turns to him, meeting his eyes.

“Even guys like you are capable of love, kid. Any girl would be lucky to have such a kind and caring man like you, okay? Just go with your gut.”

Derek rounded the turn to Spencer’s road. 

“Thank you, Derek, really. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Have a good night, lover boy.”

“You too, Derek.”

_____

next chapter: F is for First Date

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

_____

a/n: i've spent the most time on this out of any post i have in a while. kinda hit writer's block pretty bad the other day. i'm really hoping i can get the next part out by sunday, but i work all day tomorrow and idk how much time i'll have time to work on it saturday, but i'm trying my best, i promise.

_____

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[surielstea]

Your Needs, My Needs

Request made by @loving-and-dreaming

Pairing: Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary: With the return of Cassian’s ex, Reader makes the decision to distance herself from him— but hasn’t expected him to notice.

Warnings: A teensy bit of angst, mostly fluff!

A. Note: Sorry this is so short, I just began writing for Kinktober and started pouring all my focus into that and totally forgot about my reqs, hope this is enjoyable nonetheless :)

1.3k words

The past week has been hell.

Cassian and I haven't touched or had a meaningful conversation in seven days. All due to the return of his ex.

Alora was back from her three-year-long expedition of traveling courts and making connections. Cassian and her called it off before she left, it seemed mutual, and neither of them was too broken up about it so when me and Cassian got much closer over those three years it hadn't felt wrong.

But now she was back, and I was determined to save myself from the heartbreak of being the other woman.

So I distanced myself, backed away, stopped my lingering stares and cuddling on the couches, and stopped the flirty teasing and banter altogether.

We sat in the training ring, panting and out of breath, drinking from our waters silently. We used to sit shoulder to shoulder— despite the heat emanating from our bodies, we preferred to be close, but now there was a noticeable gap between us and it cleaved my heart in two.

I glance over at the winged male to see him already gazing at me. I give him a polite smile, trying not to fumble with my water as I avert my stare and place the bottle down beside my feet.

"What are you doing?" He suddenly asks and my brows crease, glancing back over to him, the hurt expression on his rough yet handsome features.

"Trying to catch my breath?" I say through a slightly dramatized pant.

"That's not what I'm talking about. You've been avoiding me, what have I done?" He narrows his eyes on me and I huff, looking away, afraid he might be able to see right through me if I held eye contact.

"I haven't been avoiding you Cass, just, giving you space." I shrug, keeping my voice from wavering.

"One and the same, what did I do?" His blunt words struck me like a slap, a frown pulling at my lips.

"You didn't do anything." I shake my head, finally meeting his hazel eyes.

"Then why give me space?" It hurt more than I expected it to, to look into those eyes after so long, torture to be away from him for only just a week. I doubt I could even stomach being around him once he got back with Alora.

"Alora returned, Cass, I figured you'd want to pick up where you left off," I explain, remaining strong on my point.

"And what if I don't want that?" He stands, now looking down on me. I mirror his position, rising onto my feet yet he still remained looking down at his nose and I cursed his tall height.

"It's what you should want," I argue with narrowed brows.

"No, what I should want is what makes me happy." His voice brooked no room for argument as he took a step forward, and for a moment he looked like he was going to reach out towards me, then thought better of it. "And that's you." He confesses.

My heart stutters at his words, fingers twitching with the need to touch him. "Cass." I sigh, shaking my head.

"Don't 'Cass' me, sweetheart." He tilted his head down at me.

"She's better for you," I murmur, shrugging and fighting my need to wring my hands.

"You think I can't decide what's best for me?" He steps closer, a dangerous distance now between us.

"No,” I blurt, my brows bunching.” I'm just trying to make all of this easier." I huff, my bottom lip now protruding. I didn’t want to argue, I didn’t want to even be bothered to discuss it, I thought this was what he would want?

"Easier for who?"

His question was met with silence as I debated the question. I thought it’d be easier for him, I hadn’t realized he would notice my distance. I was only trying to save him from having that awkward conversation with me.

"I don't want her, I want you." He reaches out, his hands cupping my cheeks. I blink in surprise, a blush staining my cheeks. He wanted me?

"But, I thought—" I begin to say but he cuts me off.

"You thought wrong princess," He smiled arrogantly, but the line between his brows told me he was still distressed. "I didn't want to tell you, I thought you might realize on your own.” He said, then let out a soft chuckle as he added, "Figured the nicknames and cuddling was enough to give you a hint."

I avert my gaze, the burning on my cheeks starting to grow overwhelming. "Sorry," I utter, wrapping my arms around myself.

His hands slip from my cheeks to the nape of my neck, his thumbs tilting my jaw up, making me look at him. "Don't apologize just, please, no more distancing yourself from me,” He reasons and I frown.

"I was only trying to protect you, protect myself," I explain my stance on our argument still not satiated.

"I don't need protection, I need you." His hands tightened around the back of my neck but it didn’t hurt, it was a reassuring squeeze, a reminder. "I'm not going anywhere, alright?"

"Okay." I nod slowly, a soft smile spreading across my lips, one I haven’t given him in the past week.

He leaned closer and my breath hitched, eyes flicking down to his lips. “I’m going to kiss you now, is that okay?” He asks and I nod fervently. A wicked smile spreads over his lips at my reaction but doesn’t leave me waiting for long before his lips crash down onto mine.

The kiss was soft, yet passionate. He conveyed every neglected emotion in that kiss, how much he desperately needed me in the seven days I didn’t look or touch him, how depraved he was. His lips were skilled, and his tongue even more so as it slipped into my mouth. I sighed softly, allowing him to explore every crook and crevice, studying and memorizing it as if for later reminiscence.

“I missed you,” He whispers into my mouth and I giggle, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, my chest pressed into his.

"You're so clingy." I rolled my eyes, feigning annoyance. He smiled wildly at that, because despite the kiss, this was normal, the hugging and teasing, he hadn’t realized how much he cherished it until it disappeared.

"Gods, I missed you so much." He repeats, a cadence in his voice that sounded so genuine, making my frown return, my hand rubbing circles on the back of his shoulder slowing.

"I thought you'd go back to her, I was only trying to help," I say softly, his eyes soften as he quickly shakes his head and says,

"I was never hers, just didn't know it until you." He leans closer and pecks my lips softly. "I'm yours, I always have been." He reassured and my smile returned, I pushed up onto my toes, connecting our lips over and over again, kissing him until we were both sick of the taste of each other.

“And I’m yours,” I confess. “I’ve always known that, though,” I say bashfully and his grin widens, feral, genuine. My hand slithered to his jaw, my thumb now tracing over the outline of his sensuous lips. “I missed you too,” I confess, even if I was the one pulling away.

“I know, sweetheart, your sorrow-filled stares were proof.” He teased and I shuddered, looking away with a bright red blush. He chuckled and brought my face back to his with a nudge of his nose. “It was cute,” He reassured me, and even if I didn’t believe him, I allowed his lips to press against mine, again, and again, and again.

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[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

yandere!nanami x reader

tags: yandere – extreme possessive and obsessive behaviour, like extreme, cage, angst no comfort, twisted love notes: request by: @superslutny wc: 1.8k

Nanami sat in his dimly lit apartment, his eyes fixed on the clock ticking away on the wall. Each second felt like an eternity, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. You, his everything, the light that brightened his otherwise dull existence. You were his girlfriend, his confidante, his reason for waking up every morning. But lately, something gnawed at Nanami, something dark and relentless.

Jealousy had always been a shadow lurking in the corners of his mind, but recently it had grown into a raging storm, consuming his every thought. He tried to control it, tried to push it down deep inside, but it clawed its way back, stronger and more insistent than before.

You were the only good thing in Nanami's life, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. You were beautiful, kind, and fiercely independent. But to Nanami, you were also a prize to be protected at all costs, a possession that he couldn't bear to share with the world.

He would watch you closely, his eyes following your every move, his heart racing with fear at the mere thought of someone else stealing you away. He knew it was irrational, he knew he was being unfair to you, but he couldn't help it. The jealousy consumed him, twisted his thoughts into dark, irrational patterns.

He tried to control it, tried to be the loving boyfriend he knew you deserved, but his efforts were futile. He couldn't help but question your every move, interrogate you about your whereabouts, and demand constant reassurance of your love and fidelity.

You tried to understand, tried to be patient with Nanami, but the constant scrutiny and possessiveness began to wear you down. You felt suffocated, trapped in a relationship that was becoming more suffocating by the day.

One evening, after yet another explosive argument fueled by Nanami’s jealousy, you couldn't take it anymore. With tears in your eyes, you packed your bags and tried to walk out the door.

Nanami couldn’t let you leave.

As you packed your bags, Nanami's anxiety and possessiveness intensified. He couldn't fathom a life without you, couldn't imagine facing the world alone. With each item you placed in your suitcase, his desperation grew, a knot tightening in his chest.

"Please, my love," Nanami pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "Don't go. I need you. You're everything to me."

You paused, your eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. You knew Nanami loved you deeply, but his jealousy was suffocating you. You longed for space, for freedom from his constant scrutiny and control.

"Kento," you said softly, placing a hand on his trembling shoulder. "I need some time to think. I'll stay tonight, but tomorrow I have to go."

Nanami nodded, his heart sinking with resignation. He knew he couldn't force you to stay, but the thought of you leaving tore him apart inside. He resolved to make the most of your remaining time together, to show you just how much you meant to him.

But as the night wore on, Nanami’s jealousy bubbled to the surface once again. He couldn't shake the feeling that you were slipping away from him, that you were already planning your escape. Every innocent glance at your phone, every moment of silence between you, fueled his paranoia. He can’t let you leave, he won’t let you.

Despite the darkness that now enveloped Nanami's mind, there were moments of light, memories that shone like beacons in the fog of his obsession.

He remembered the first time you met, your eyes locking across a crowded room, a spark igniting between you that would soon blossom into love. He remembered your laughter, the sound of your infectious giggles echoing through the air as you shared inside jokes and silly stories.

He remembered your late-night conversations, the deep, meaningful talks that lasted until the early hours of the morning. You bared your souls to each other, sharing hopes, fears, and dreams with a level of intimacy that Nanami had never known before.

He remembered your walks in the park, hand in hand, the world fading away as you lost yourselves in each other's presence. The warmth of the sun on your faces, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze—it was in these moments that Nanami felt truly alive, truly loved.

And above all, he remembered the way you looked at him, your eyes filled with a love so pure and unconditional that it took his breath away. In your arms, he found solace from the demons that haunted him, a sense of peace that he had never known before.

Tears welled up in Nanami's eyes as he reached out to you, his fingers brushing against your sleeping form. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you more than anything in this world. Please forgive me."

As you slept peacefully beside him, Nanami's mind churned with a plan born from his darkest impulses. With each breath you took, he felt the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on him, suffocating him with the fear of losing you.

Quietly, Nanami slipped out of bed, his movements deliberate and stealthy. He moved through the apartment like a shadow, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. In the corner of the room, hidden from sight, stood the cage he had meticulously prepared for this moment.

With trembling hands, Nanami approached the cage and swung open the door, the metal hinges creaking softly in the stillness of the night. He returned to the bed where you lay, your form bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, and gently lifted your sleeping body into his arms.

With great care, Nanami carried you to the cage and laid you down inside, your limbs falling limply against the cold metal bars. He fastened the lock with shaking hands, the sound echoing through the room like a final, ominous chord.

The cage stood as a looming testament to Nanami's descent into madness, yet within its confines lay a paradoxical blend of memories and attempts at comfort. 

Constructed from sturdy steel bars, it was large enough for you to move around, to stretch your limbs and turn, yet small enough to serve its purpose—to confine you to Nanami's world, to keep you close at all costs. 

Despite its stark appearance, the cage was not devoid of warmth. Nanami had adorned its interior with small touches meant to evoke the memories you had shared together. A soft blanket, the one you had cuddled under on countless nights, draped over a corner. A stack of books you had read together rested nearby, their pages worn and dog-eared from hours of shared exploration. 

In one corner, Nanami had placed a small photo album, filled with snapshots of your happiest moments—smiling faces, stolen kisses, and adventures captured in frozen time. It was a reminder of the love you had once shared, a testament to the bond that had brought you together.

Despite his actions, Nanami had tried to make the cage as bearable as possible for you. He had stocked it with food and water, enough to sustain you until he could find a way to make things right. He had even left a note, a heartfelt apology penned in shaky handwriting, expressing his love and regret for what he had done.

But no amount of comfort could mask the reality of your captivity, the suffocating weight of Nanami's possessiveness bearing down on you with each passing moment. 

As you began to stir, Nanami stepped back, his heart pounding in his chest. He watched with a mixture of dread and fascination as you slowly woke, confusion clouding your eyes as you realized your predicament.

"What... what's going on?" your voice was barely a whisper, filled with equal parts fear and disbelief.

Nanami approached the cage, his eyes filled with desperation as he tried to explain himself. "I'm sorry, love," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. I had to do something to keep you with me, to make sure you never leave."

Your eyes widened in horror as the truth of Nanami's actions sank in. You rattled the bars of the cage, your voice rising to a panicked scream as you begged him to let you out.

But Nanmi was lost to his own madness, consumed by his obsessive need to possess you. He watched you from the other side of the cage, his heart torn between love and despair as he realized the depth of his own depravity.

He paced back and forth in front of the cage, his emotions a tempest raging within him. His eyes bore into you, filled with a mixture of desperation and love, as he began to rant, the words pouring out of him like a torrential downpour.

"I love you, darling. God, I love you more than anything in this world," he began, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "I would do anything for you, anything to keep you safe, to protect you from the dangers of this world."

He paused, his chest heaving with the weight of his emotions, before continuing with increasing fervor. "I can't stand the thought of you out there, exposed and vulnerable, surrounded by people who don't understand you like I do. People who don't appreciate you, who don't see you for the incredible person that you are."

Nanami's voice rose to a crescendo as he spoke, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I just want to keep you close, my love. To shelter you from the storms that rage outside these walls, to shield you from the pain and heartache that the world can inflict. Can't you see that everything I've done, everything I've built, it's all for you? Because I love you. Because I need you."

Tears welled up in Nanami's eyes as he spoke, his voice cracking with emotion. "I know I've made mistakes, darling. I know I've hurt you, and I'm sorry. But please, please don't leave me. Don't abandon me to face this world alone. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't survive without you."

He fell silent then, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. He watched you through tear-blurred eyes, his heart laid bare before you, praying with every fiber of his being that you would understand, that you would forgive him, that you would stay.

“This is insane, Kento! This isn’t love!”

And as your cries echoed through the empty apartment, Nanami knew that he had crossed a line from which there could be no return. In locking you away, he had lost not only your love, but his own soul as well.

"I can’t cage my jealousy so I’ll have to just cage you."

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING VOCAL !!! OSCAR P. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: oscar piastri was always quiet until he’s not…

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, pwp, what is proofreading (i just wrote this fifteen minutes ago lmfao), oscar in the wild, oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, face fucking + deepthroat, cockdrunk!reader

note: wrote a goofy shitpost on my main account about him looking goofy and me wanting to suck him dry love him. i saw and i came and in this blurb, oscar did too lmao enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

oscar piastri, in between the mclaren drivers, was a reserved being. 

everyone knew that. everyone in the paddock knew not to speak to him if they expected for deep meaningful conversations. they knew not to rely on him when expecting a long answer— especially when they weren’t that close. only lando could get him to speak up — being oscar’s closest friend in the grid and all. 

but not even lando knew how vocal he could get. he didn’t know how long he’d hold a conversation for with someone that meant so much to him. his girlfriend. 

and if everyone found how vocal he is in bed, they’d say that “that’s not oscar” and deny that oscar would even speak like this. 

and he wasn’t hesitating when he praised her endlessly, his eyes fluttered shut as he let out a breathless moan. 

“good girl,” he let out a sigh of pleasure, feeling her lips wrapped around his cock while her tongue licked the underside of his tip. his eyes couldn’t help but look down at her as he murmured, “lemme see you, baby.” 

her dazed eyes fluttered open as she continued devouring his length, her cockdrunk face making him moan as he praised her with, “you’re so beautiful— sucking my cock like this, baby. good girl— keep sucking me like that.” 

it wasn’t anything he asked her to do, really. on a normal day, he would’ve been the one to go down and devour her cunt without any questions. hell, he’d even fuck her until she couldn’t walk.

but right now, after watching her whimper and whine about sucking him off, oscar had relented and insisted that he could just fuck her if she wanted some release— only for her to drop to her knees and beg. 

who was he to deny her? besides, she looked so pretty like this: cockdrunk, eager to wrap her lips around his cock and to hear him praise her as she wanted. her mind was in a haze, and if she continued to suck him like this, oscar’s mind would end up there, too.

she hummed in satisfaction, her hand reaching to play with his balls too as he moaned aloud, “god~ so fuckin’ good. keep playing with me like that.”

“you only wanted to suck me off today, hm?” he teased, watching as she nodded, her eyes fluttered shut as she continued to feel his girth and length in her mouth.

for her mouth, he was a welcome weight that she was more than willing to carry— as long as she could get a taste of him. 

“begging me to let you suck my cock and asking me nicely,” he chuckled quietly as he ran his finger through her hair, pulling it lightly when her pace started to increase. “such a naughty girl.” 

“‘m gonna fuck you now, ‘s it okay?” and once he got a nod from her as an approval, his hips lifted itself off from the seat and began to fuck her mouth.

her nose met the bottom of his cock as she took in the last of the air she could gather, allowing him to use her mouth like a toy as she moaned around him.

“god,” he grunted, feeling the vibration around his cock as she expressed her pleasure through endless humming and moaning. “god- fuck, good girl- such a good girl, keep licking my cock like that, baby.”

“doin’ so good f’me,” he moaned, his hips now snapping up as she continued to lick the underside and swirling around his cock. his legs trembled lightly as he let out a growl, “fuck- ‘m cummin’ baby. want me to cum in your mouth?” 

he peered down at her nodding eagerly as he smirked lightly, “yeah? you want me to cum in your mouth? are you gon’ swallow every drop and not waste it?”

her cheeks hollowed around him as she bobbed her head— whether it’s to say yes or to get him to cum, oscar wasn’t sure; he was just lost in his pleasure. 

“good,” he muttered, now reaching his high, “i’m gonna cum, baby, keep sucking me off like that- hah~ fuck— good girl— i~”

the salty spritz of his pleasure escaped and were swallowed by her, devouring his pleasure as she hummed in arousal. it was almost as if she, too, had orgasmed. she felt too fucked out and full— all thanks to his obliging to let her go down on him. 

swallowing the last drop, she pulled away from his cock with a ‘pop’ as she smiled, almost drunkenly. 

oscar helped and pulled her to his lap, kissing her softly as he smiled gently, “thank you, baby.”

“no,” she giggled, “thank you~”

“anything for my girl.”

[ellies1luvr]

dealer!ellie x reader

(head cannons)

based on the song daddy issues by the neighborhood

A/n: Im writing this on my notes app, have never written before but i fear if i don’t write this it will never be written😅 currently going though a situation ship and im very touched starved so that is wear this is coming from‼️

Idc if minors read

please give me feedback even if its not the nicest it is really appreciated!!

TW: erm lesbians, reader having daddy issues, casual by chappell roan mentioned, crying, panic attacks, anxiety, reader sits on ellies lap, weed, lmk if i missed anything!! no use of y/n‼️

Dealer Ellie who met you at a party having panic attack

Dealer Ellie who brought you back to a random couch at the frat party and gave you free weed to calm you down while having a meaningful conversations

Dealer ellie who drove you home and got your phone number

Now anytime you have a panic attack or anything close to one, you call ellie and she comes over with free weed/ holds your hand and comforts you the whole time

“hey pretty girl” “there you go pretty”

when you smoke to much shes there to ground you

“its okay baby i got you, your safe with me”

Soon after you both catch feelings, not telling each other because you don’t want to ruin whats going on.

You call ellie one afternoon asking if she can come over, shes really busy but you dont need to know that and comes over.

you both end up confessing your feelings and make out on the couch, soon you both fall asleep in each others arms

by the end of that night you and ellie are bound by the hip (i think thats how the saying goes?? idk) ellie always with you in someway or some form.

Ellie soon finds out about your attachment issues and fear shes gonna leave you in some way, (hints daddy issues😅) but that fear is soon subsided by ellie and her always with and doting on you

at the beginning of you and ellies relationship, you tried not to get too comfortable but as soon as you do, you are clinging to ellie all the time.

(deals, in classes, restaurants, idk but always touching ellie and ellie always with or touching you in some way)

Getting with ellie didnt stop all your panic attacks or anxiety, when bad panic attacks would happen you would sit on ellies lap with a tv show playing in the background, ellie lighting a blunt, lightly placing it between your lips watching you inhale and exhale

Dealer ellie making that collage dealer bank, would take you shopping all the time.

no matter what your style, hyperfem, on the masculine side, or neither she would spoil the hell out of you.

You and ellie dont have sex untill about a month into the relationship, deciding to take it slow

You and ellie rarely ever got in fights, (you being sensitive also hints daddy issues😅) would cry when ellie raised her voice at you, not trying to be manipulative in the way that anytime you two get in disagreements you cry, but when she would yell, yes.

“ellie that girl was flirting with you i saw it”

“babe no she wasnt”

“ellie please just stop dealing to her”

“babe its my fucking job to deal what do you expect for a dealer in a collage campus not to get hit on?!”

when she heard sniffles her heart immediately dropped realizing that she yelled.

safe to say that girl never got another ounce of weed from ellie again.

i feel like all of ellies past relationships were just “casual” but with you it was very different!

Red wine supernova by chappell roan is definitely her favorite song on rise and fall of a midwest princess (but she relates to casual 😅 the most)

The first time she took you to meet joel you cried bc your dad cut you off once he found out you were gay , and especially not a dad like joel

one time when you amd ellie once woke up early enough to make breakfast before classes, you started a playlist on you phone

Naked in manhattan by chappell roan started playing, you started dancing and ellie soon followed hugging you from behind kissing your neck

Suggestive

at party’s when ellies dealing, you would always be perched on her lap, facing ellie, counting her freckles

Ellie being ellie is horny when shes high, you being you are emotional when high but that doesnt stop yall from having heated moments when both of yall are high.

i feel like ellie would have Lunch by billie eilish playing when shes high and that always leads to a long (fun) night

thanks for reading dykes‼️

[moonlit-imagines]

Preferences: Being an Avenger and an ex-Widow

Avengers x reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anon 🥀: “hcs for how avengers would react to reader being an ex widow like natasha”

when you defected from the red room, you rejected SHIELD

“why trade one corrupt organization for another?” -you (not aware shield was ACTUALLY corrupted by hydra)

you freelanced for a bit, avoiding recruitment at all turns and trying to keep control of your life

but nick fury wouldn’t let you drop from his radar

“y/n, meet natasha romanoff” -fury

“i know you…” -you

“red room, yes” -nat

“what are you two doing here?” -you

“trying to recruit you, actually” -nat

“like i told your boss a dozen times, i want no part in working for SHIELD, the notion bores me” -you

“well, what if i told you a new position opened up?” -fury, watching your brow raise “im assembling a team, one with the most skilled players in the game”

“spies?” -you

“not quite” -nat, smirking

thus started your induction into the avengers

and nat became probably your best friend

“i’ve never met another widow defector, it’s…nice” -you

“we killed him, you know…” -nat, hesitating “dreykov. barton and i got him”

it was the best news you’d gotten in a while

the rest of the avengers were a bit ragtag compared to the soldiers they recruited

the billionaire in a suit, scientist with anger issues, the asgardian god

then 3 assassins and a soldier from world war ii

but you all made nice eventually, especially after fighting side by side

being with the avengers instead of a lonely assassin gave you back some of that humanity you lost over the years

“y/n, want to go on a run?” -steve

“with you? what’s the point?” -you

“i’ll slow down for you” -steve

routine runs became a stress reliever for you

you traded war stories with nat and clint on late nights when you couldn’t sleep

and tony made you his “guinea pig” when it came to testing new technologies

“i didn’t mean it in a derogatory way! i know where you come from, bad choice of words. would you though? it’s a pretty cool gun…wouldn’t want it to go to waste…” -tony

and bruce, sweet bruce, bruce recluse….

i just wanted to say that actually

bruce and you didn’t have all that much in common but sometimes he’d sit with you and keep you company, maybe offer you some food

you’d have really meaningful conversations with the avengers, too

“so, what deterred you from joining SHIELD?” -steve

“a lifetime of being controlled by people with their own agendas and no regard for their soldiers’ lives” -you “sound familiar?”

“all too familiar” -steve

“then you understand that i was not going to work for the united states government, it was hard enough joining the avengers” -you

okay, okay. you might be wondering “wheres all the action scenes?” fine here they are

you and nat knew some pretty outdated moves pretty well. after all, you were taught the same

it was easy to fight with her, it was almost like you were telepathically communicating your next moves

“are we sure the red room didn’t give them some kind of mind reading chip?” -tony “hey, that should be my next project”

“absolutely not” -steve

clint got jealous of you and nat because the bond they had was similar to yours, but you suggested a group effort with him

so you and nat taught him some red room lessons (minus the horrendous abuse)

thor enjoyed your ruthlessness

“y/n, you never cease to amuse me!” -thor

“they just knocked a man out, thor” -clint

“yes! hilarious” -thor

“you don’t laugh when stark does it” -steve

“stark? well, he’s not too funny” -thor

“hey! im funny…” -tony

honestly getting really close with the team

and eventually welcoming wanda and vision

assuring wanda that coming from a less-than-friendly background didn’t make her any less than the avengers

“you know, i was pretty bad before i joined up. you’ll fit right in!” -you

the avengers went through a lot of ups and downs

and by the time they’d split, you already left

“i’m sorry, guys. i’m just not cut out for this line of work.” -you

“what do you mean?” -tony

“you know what i mean. i cant be an avenger anymore. i cant be idolized and i cant be associated with whatever mess is brewing here” -you

you wanted to go solo again, working for the group was never what you really wanted

it was nice for a while

and you watched as the drama between steve and tony unfolded, feeling grateful you didn’t have to pick a side

*pressing ignore on your phone for the fiftieth time*

freelance life just suited you better

until you found the red room was still operating

and for once you picked up the phone

“hey nat. are we freeing these widows or what?”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @mymelodymia // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[redroomreflections]

II HANDS II HEAVEN 6

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

W/c:4k

Notes: I listened to Beyonce's album and wanted to write something to this song

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 4.5k

last part

Walking back into the hotel room, the atmosphere shifted noticeably. It was clear Natasha had been somewhat irritated since your departure from the pool area. After a few drinks, you could feel the effects setting in, and you had spent the past few hours playing the role of the devoted, albeit overly enthusiastic, spouse. Add to that the fatigue from earlier road-tripping, and all you wanted now was to fall into bed.

You bypassed changing clothes or freshening up, collapsing into the plush decorative chair directly across from the bed. Stretching out your legs, you nestled the styrofoam container brimming with chicken wings in your lap before eagerly digging in. Eyes closed, you hummed in contentment, savoring the delightful blend of honey barbecue that teased your taste buds.

Meanwhile, Natasha moved about the room with abrupt, almost exaggerated movements, clearly too irritated to engage in conversation. Her actions spoke volumes as she pulled her hair into a tight bun, signaling her need to unpack and decompress.

With a half-lidded gaze, you paused your chicken wing feast to address Natasha. "You know, I think I'd like you to have a nickname for me," you suggested.

"Why bother?" Natasha muttered under her breath, her frustration evident in her tone as she continued with her task, seemingly unwilling to entertain the idea.

With a casual wave of a chicken wing, you made your case. "It shows you love me, that you care for me, that you actually don't hate being around me," you explained, emphasizing your point with a playful gesture. As a droplet of barbecue sauce threatened the fabric of the chair, you skillfully intercepted it, sucking the sauce from your finger with a satisfied hum. Food always tasted much better when under the influence.

“It’s not like this relationship is real.” Natasha raised a brow.

“Okay, rude,” You paused mid-bite, considering Natasha's words for a moment before responding. "Maybe not in the traditional sense," you admitted, your voice softening as you met her gaze. "But that doesn't mean it's not meaningful in its own way. We've shared so much together, haven't we?"

“In what the last two days together? All I know about you is your favorite position and I don’t see how that is helpful,” Natasha shrugged. She was so over this conversation. She stuffed the last of her things into a drawer and turned to you.

With a playful grin, you retorted, "Hey, it's quality over quantity, right? And besides, you're exaggerating. You know way more than just my favorite position." You chuckled watching Natasha’s face and realizing perhaps your attempt at humor wasn't landing as well as you hoped. Natasha's annoyance was palpable, but you couldn't help but find amusement in the situation.

“You’re drunk,” Natasha shook her head.

“I didn’t take you for the passive-aggressive type.” You frowned before biting into another chicken wing.

“Yeah?” Natasha questioned.

“Not at all,” You continued. “Mean. It’s a given. Professional. Check. Flexible even? Though I have only seen it in the gym I’d say that’s a check. But passive-aggressive? Nah.”

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest, taking a deep breath before speaking. "You know," she began, her voice calm but with an edge, "it's not about being passive-aggressive. It's about boundaries. You waltz into my life, acting like it's all a big joke, and expect me to play along with your whims."

She took a step closer, her expression serious. "I get that you're trying to lighten the mood, but there's a difference between being playful and being dismissive. Just because you find this amusing doesn't mean everyone else does."

Pausing for a moment, she glanced at the mess around you, the half-eaten chicken wings, the lingering scent of barbecue sauce, and then back at your face. "And for the record, knowing someone's 'favorite position' doesn't make a relationship. Respect, understanding, and communication do. Maybe you should think about that before asking for nicknames."

With that, she turned back to her task, her movements deliberate and precise, clearly signaling that the conversation was over.

You swallowed slightly before standing from your seat.

“Have a wing,” You offered.

Natasha paused, her back still turned to you, before letting out a long sigh. "I'm not hungry," she replied tersely, continuing to organize her things. The tension in the room was still there, but you weren't ready to let the conversation end on such a sour note.

"Come on," you said softly, taking a step closer. "I'm trying here. I know I mess up sometimes, but I care about this. Can't we just... have a moment of peace?"

Natasha stopped what she was doing and turned around slowly, her eyes meeting yours. There was a flicker of something in her gaze—maybe curiosity, maybe exhaustion. She hesitated for a moment, then walked over and took a wing from the plate.

"One wing," she said, her tone still guarded. "But this doesn't mean everything's okay."

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Fair enough," you said. "It's a start."

Natasha sat on the bed, her body language still stiff and guarded.

"I'm not as drunk as you think. I'm just feeling really good after a long day,” You shrugged. “You’re kind of a buzzkill.” You add, hoping your comment doesn’t come across the wrong way.

"I'm not a buzzkill," She retorted, her tone defensive. "Also, I thought we were past the insults."

"Of course, you're not a buzzkill, especially not when it comes to people you like," You said. “I don’t make the list so it’s only right if you assert your dominance over me or something. Which if you were my real wife I would have taken care of that already.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Natasha tilted her head.

“I’m not trying to be slapped with a harassment demerit or whatever so I’ll keep my comments to myself,” You stood, standing on the tip of your toes as you stretched. Natasha’s eyes followed your movement for only a second more. “I caught some leads today. There’s a bonfire tomorrow we’re going to. We met a new couple. Though I’m half convinced Leslie is too good to be true. That’s progress.”

“I guess it is,” Natasha relented. “I’m going to hit the shower.”

“Leave me some hot water,” You called after her. You stood in the middle of the room and looked around, lost and confused. What to do now?

As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the silence, you took a deep breath and decided it was time to fall back into your routine. Years of being a spy had taught you the importance of staying grounded, no matter where you were. You moved with purpose, channeling your focus to maintain a sense of normalcy and readiness.

You quickly checked all the locks and ensured the windows were secure. Double-checking the room for any potential surveillance devices or hidden threats was second nature. Satisfied, you placed a small doorstop under the main entrance for an added layer of security.

You drank a full glass of water and tossed all your trash into the bin.

With the room secure and your immediate tasks completed, you decided it was time to unwind. You picked up a paperback novel from your bag, one of the few comforts you allowed yourself on missions. You settled into the comfortable chair in the corner of the room, the soft lamp casting a warm glow over the pages.

You didn’t know how long it had been, and you didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep. The sound of the shower eventually ceased, and Natasha emerged, looking somewhat more relaxed. She glanced at you and gave a slight nod before heading to her side of the room. You returned her nod with one of your own.

With one last glance around the room to ensure everything was in its place, you turned back to your book, content to spend a few more minutes immersed in its pages before eventually turning in for the night.

You ensured that your shower was as luxurious as the decor suggested. The water temperature was perfect, and the pressure was strong, washing away the grime and tension of the day. You allowed yourself a few moments to enjoy the warmth and relaxation, something you rarely had the luxury to do.

After drying off and changing into comfortable clothing, you took one last glance around the room. Everything was secure and in place, exactly as you left it. The windows were locked, the doorstop was firmly in place, and your equipment was within easy reach.

You glanced over at the bed, where Natasha lay with her back turned toward you, the soft rise and fall of her shoulders indicating she was still awake.

With quiet steps, you approached the bed, the dim light casting soft shadows across the room. You pulled back the covers and slipped in, the cool sheets contrasting with the lingering warmth from your shower. As you settled in, you could feel the tension in the air, a silence hanging between you.

You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, before finally breaking the silence. "Natasha," you said softly, testing the waters.

She didn't respond immediately, but you could tell she was listening. You waited, giving her the space to speak if she wanted to. After a few moments, her voice cut through the quiet.

"I don't like the nicknames thing," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "It's not my style."

You turned slightly to face her, even though she remained turned away. "Okay," you replied gently, accepting her words without argument. "I understand."

There was a pause, and you could sense her considering her next words carefully. "It's just... I need things to be straightforward," she continued, her voice softer now. "No games, no pretense."

"I get that. And I'm sorry if I pushed too hard. I just wanted to lighten things up a bit."

Natasha sighed, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "I know," she admitted. "But maybe we can find another way."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah, we can do that."

The silence returned, but this time it felt different—less heavy, more understanding.

“I like the touches,” You spoke. Natasha’s head lifted slightly, and though you couldn’t see her in the darkness, you could tell she was looking at you. “What I mean is, “ You continued, choosing your words carefully. “I am appreciative that you asked me if I was okay with it. Which I am. You’re not creepy or threatening.”

Natasha remained silent for a moment, processing your words. When she spoke, her voice was softer, less guarded. "I'm glad you feel that way. It's important to me that you feel safe."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "I do. I know this whole situation is... unusual, but having clear boundaries and respect makes it easier."

She sighed a sound that conveyed both relief and contemplation. "I guess we're both trying to navigate this the best we can."

"Yeah," You agreed, a sense of mutual understanding settling between you. "And we're getting there, one step at a time."

Natasha turned slightly, her silhouette visible in the dim light filtering through the window. "Let's just keep being honest with each other. It might not make everything perfect, but it will help."

You smiled again, feeling a warm sense of connection. "Deal."

With that, the room fell into a comfortable silence once more.

With that, you closed your eyes, the tension in your body finally easing as you allowed yourself to drift toward sleep, comforted by the small step forward you had taken together.

*************************

The first light of morning barely peeked through the heavy curtains when Natasha woke up. Years of disciplined routine had honed her internal clock to perfection. She moved silently, careful not to disturb the still-sleeping form beside her. Your soft, steady breathing filled the room, a stark contrast to Natasha’s alertness.

She slipped out of bed, her movements precise and efficient. She grabbed her workout clothes from the chair where she had neatly placed them the night before, dressing quickly and quietly. She tied her hair back into a tight ponytail, her mind already shifting into the focused state she reserved for her morning workouts.

As she laced up her sneakers, she glanced back at you. She would offer to wake you but she’d rather not poke the sleeping bear. The last time she done it you’d been grumpy the entire ride to th airport. Besides, she would like to spend some time alone to think about some things.

She grabbed her water bottle and quietly exited the room, the door clicking softly shut behind her. The hotel gym was quite a walk from the bungalows, giving Natasha some time to scope out the place. There were fewer people out than last night which was to be expected. The gym was a well-equipped space that Natasha found surprisingly adequate. She liked to start her day with a combination of cardio and strength training, a routine that kept her body in peak condition and her mind sharp.

She started with a warm-up on the treadmill, the pounding of her feet against the belt synchronizing with her thoughts. She increased the speed, pushing herself into a steady run, her breath coming in controlled, even intervals.

After her cardio, she moved to the free weights, her muscles welcoming the familiar burn. Each lift, each rep, was a show of her strength and determination. The workout was as much for her mind as it was for her body, a way to center herself and prepare for the day.

She ended the workout with stretching. As Natasha sat on one of the floors of the gym hotel her mind drifted to the mission. The bonfire scheduled for later that evening was meant to provide an opportunity to gather more information about the people involved and potentially uncover any hidden agendas. Yet, as she reviewed the events of the past few days, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of her mind.

So far, nothing had raised suspicion, and Natasha wasn't entirely surprised by that fact. The resort had managed to stay open despite multiple scandals, which suggested that there was more to the operation than met the eye. It was clear that someone was pulling the strings behind the scenes, but identifying who and why remained a challenge.

Natasha's analytical mind raced through the possibilities, considering every angle and scenario. She knew that she couldn't afford to let her guard down, even for a moment. The mission was too important, and the stakes were too high to risk overlooking any potential threats.

*********** You heard the soft click of the hotel room door and rested your head on the pillow once again. Natasha was going to work out at this indecent time, and you weren’t one to stop her. You knew that both of you needed this alone time to stay sane and keep charged. You could understand that your personality was a little strong at times and made a note to yourself to tone it down. The last thing you needed was to be labeled as difficult to work with.

With a sigh, you reached for your phone on the nightstand. As you unlocked the screen, an idea sparked in your mind. Pulling the covers up around you, you quickly snapped a selfie, making sure to capture your bedhead and the early morning light filtering through the curtains. It was a candid moment, one that felt strangely intimate despite the distance between you and Natasha.

You attached a simple message to the photo before hitting send: “Morning vibes. Hope your workout is going well. See you at breakfast?”

Sending the message off, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes about the growing rapport between you and Natasha. If someone were to get a hold of your devices, there would be enough evidence to convince them that your fake relationship was real. It was a risk, but one you were willing to take for the sake of the mission.

As you waited for Natasha’s response, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nervousness. Would she appreciate the gesture, or would she see it as unnecessary? You knew that Natasha was practical and focused, not one for frivolous sentimentality. Still, you hoped that she would understand the underlying message behind the selfie.

When her response finally came, it was short and to the point: “Thanks. Breakfast sounds good.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her dry response. Leave it to Natasha to cut straight to the chase. But despite the lack of enthusiasm in her message, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, she appreciated the gesture more than she let on.

With a grin on your face, you set your phone back on the nightstand and turned to find sleep again. You would need it.

*********** You met Natasha at the breakfast buffet offered by the resort, a spread that was far better than anything you experienced in most recent times, no offense to Tony. The array of fresh fruit, pastries, and gourmet coffee was impressive, and Natasha couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in appreciation as she filled her plate.

As you settled into a table by the window, you couldn't resist commenting on the breakfast spread. "I have to admit, this beats room service at the Tower any day," you remarked.

Natasha nodded in agreement, though her expression remained neutral. "It's certainly a step up from the usual fare," she replied, her tone cool and composed.

“Don’t get me wrong Tony’s stuff is awesome but it’s nothing like this,” You bite into a piece of crispy bacon. “What do they say about billionaires being cheap again?”

Natasha arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "I think it's more about being frugal than cheap," she replied, her tone dry. "But I suppose it depends on the billionaire in question."

You chuckled, enjoying the easy banter between you. “How was your workout?”

Natasha looked up from her plate, her expression unreadable. "It was adequate," she replied simply, taking a sip of her coffee.

You nodded, sensing that she wasn't in the mood for small talk. "Fair enough," you replied, deciding not to press the issue further.

The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence as you both focused on finishing your breakfast.

“I, um, do you cook?” Natasha asked, breaking the silence with a tentative question.

“Of course I do,” You smiled, sensing an opportunity for a topic of conversation. “You can’t enjoy food as much as I do and not be a great cook.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. “Is that so?” she replied, her tone curious.

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee before continuing. “Yeah, I actually enjoy cooking. It's a way for me to unwind and relax after a long day. Plus, there's something satisfying about creating a delicious meal from scratch.”

Natasha considered your words for a moment before speaking again. “Funny, I don't think I've ever seen you cook in the Tower,” she remarked, her tone casual but observant.

You chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. “Well, to be fair, it's not like I had much opportunity to cook there. Tony had a chef on staff, and the rest of the team had their own preferences when it came to meals.”

Natasha nodded, seeming to accept your explanation. “I see,” she replied, though you could tell there was more to her curiosity than she let on.

“Oh, but I have cooked for a few people,” You added. “I've made meals for Wanda and Vision, and Sam on occasion. Monica Rambeau too. Everyone else pretty much does their own thing when it comes to food.”

Natasha's interest was piqued by your mention of cooking for Monica Rambeau. “Monica Rambeau?” she echoed, her tone intrigued.

You nodded, recalling the times you had prepared meals for Monica during her visits to the Tower. “Yeah, she stopped by a few times when she was in town. We had some good conversations over dinner,” you explained, a fond smile playing on your lips.

Natasha's expression softened, but there was a subtle flicker of something in her eyes. “I see,” she replied.

You caught the slight shift in her demeanor but didn’t bother questioning it. You didn’t want to ruin a good thing.

The conversation ended there as you were interrupted by the arrival of another couple, who approached the table with eager smiles. The man, Marcus, was tall and well-dressed, while the woman, Anna, exuded an air of sophistication that seemed at odds with the casual beach resort setting. They were slightly younger than you and Natasha, and their enthusiasm for the resort was evident in their animated conversation.

"Good morning! Mind if we join you?" Marcus asked, his tone friendly but a little too eager.

Natasha exchanged a glance with you before gesturing to the empty chairs opposite them. "Please, have a seat," she replied politely, though her guard was already up.

“I’m Anna and this is my husband, Marcus Blattler.” Anna waved from her seat.

“I’m Alexis and this is Joan,” You greeted back kindly. “Nice to meet you both.”

"So, how are you two enjoying your stay so far?" Anna asked, her smile bright and sincere.

You shared a quick look with Natasha before answering, "Oh, it's been wonderful. The resort is beautiful, and the staff have been incredibly accommodating."

Natasha nodded in agreement, her tone perfectly measured. "Yes, we've been thoroughly impressed with the amenities and the level of service."

Marcus leaned in, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And what brings you to the resort? Are you celebrating a special occasion?"

"Actually, we're here on a sort of mini-vacation," You replied smoothly, your smile never faltering. " Our first anniversary as a married couple. Just taking some time to relax and unwind."

Anna's eyes widened with interest. "That sounds lovely! Do you two come here often?"

"Oh, this is our first time here," You replied, a note of casualness in your tone. "But we've heard such great things about the resort that we couldn't resist giving it a try."

“Yeah, so far it’s been great,” Natasha played along.

Anna's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Have you two heard about the bonfire they have here every week? It’s tonight," she asked, her voice tinged with excitement. "It's such a romantic setting, with the firelight dancing on the beach and the sound of the waves in the background. It's one of the highlights of our stay here."

You and Natasha exchanged a glance, inwardly relieved that Anna had shifted the conversation to a more innocuous topic. "Actually, we haven't heard much about it," you replied, feigning ignorance. "But it sounds lovely. Maybe we'll have to check it out tonight."

Marcus nodded enthusiastically. "You definitely should! It's a great way to unwind after a day of activities. Plus, you never know who you might meet around the fire," he added with a wink.

Natasha's interest was piqued by Marcus's mention of meeting new people. "Oh, really?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral. "Do you and Anna go to the bonfire often?"

Anna smiled, her gaze lingering on Natasha momentarily longer than necessary. "Oh, we're regulars," she replied, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of something more. "It's a great way to meet other couples and make new friends. You never know who you might run into."

“Well count us in,” You smiled. “Now that you mentioned it, an older couple by the pool yesterday informed us about the bonfire. I really hope it lives up to the hype.”

“Great. It will.” Anna nodded. As the conversation with Anna and Marcus continued, you couldn't help but notice Anna's overwhelming enthusiasm and friendliness. "So, y'all are celebrating your anniversary here?" She chirped, her smile bright and infectious. "Isn’t that just the sweetest thing!"

You chuckled at her energy, finding it endearing yet slightly overwhelming. "Yeah, we figured a beach getaway would be the perfect way to celebrate," you replied, your smile mirroring hers.

Natasha nodded in agreement, though her expression remained guarded. "It's been a pleasant escape from the hustle and bustle of city life," she added, her tone polite but distant.

Anna's eyes widened with excitement. "Oh, I just love a good beach vacation!" she exclaimed, her southern drawl becoming more pronounced. "There's just somethin' about the ocean air and the sound of the waves that soothes the soul, don't y'all think?"

You nodded, impressed by Anna's enthusiasm for the beach. "Absolutely," you agreed, silently noting the warmth and sincerity in her voice. "There's nothing quite like it."

“Well, we’re going to let y’all get back to your day,” Marcus excused the two of them, his tone friendly but with a hint of urgency. “Anna and I are going to go ahead and find us an excursion.”

Anna leaned forward, her smile bright and inviting. “Why don’t we exchange numbers?” she suggested, her southern accent adding a charming lilt to her words.

“Sure, that sounds like a good idea,” you replied, pulling out your phone and exchanging numbers with Anna and Marcus.

Natasha followed suit, her movements precise and controlled as she entered Anna and Marcus's contact information into her phone. Despite her reservations, she remained polite and composed, unwilling to give Anna and Marcus any reason to suspect that something was amiss.

As you exchanged pleasantries and bid Anna and Marcus farewell, you turned slightly back to Natasha.

“Is it me or does it seem we’re the only new couple,” You asked.

“Hmm, no, I see it too,” Natasha glanced subtly around the room. “It could be we simply haven’t met other first-timers. Might be something to take note of.”

“Got it, boss,” You nodded. The bonfire was only eight hours away. You were excited to see what was in store.

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Right again • Tom Riddle x f!reader

Requested: No

Pairing: Tom Riddle x f!reader (+ SPOILER x f!reader)

Summary: Tom, who always thought relationships were meaningless, changed his mind when he met y/n. He plans on telling her how he feels, however, it doesn't go as planned, and he finds himself to be right - again.

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: Fluff; angst; English is not my first language.

A/N: It wasn't supposed to be this long lmao. I will write the same plot with Mattheo, Lorenzo and Theo in the future - hopefully with a better title lol. PLEASE PLEASE DON'T LET THIS FLOP OR YOU WON'T SEE ME ON HERE AGAIN LOL. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it! xx

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

Tom Riddle was in his dorm, one of the only places in Hogwarts where he could be by himself, and where he could be doing the things he enjoyed the most - studying and reading, both in silence. But, despite being currently sitting on his desk - always perfectly arranged -, he was not currently reading a book or studying. Instead, he was doing something he never thought he would do and was feeling something he never thought he would feel: thinking about a girl, and being nervous about a girl. 

Contrary to Mattheo and his friends, Tom has never cared for relationships - he could barely bear being around Mattheo’s friends if serious, meaningful discussions or activities weren’t involved. Sure, he cared for Mattheo, more than he cared to admit, because they were of the same blood. And for Tom, blood was one of the things that mattered the most, alongside loyalty, knowledge and influence. 

And y/n. 

Tom had always thought Mattheo was the only person he could ever care for - after all, they needed to have some sort of loyalty towards each other if they wanted to have a chance to fight their father - but, just like he was surprised to learn he did not want to follow his father in his quest for tyranny, Tom was surprised to find himself caring for y/n. 

Just like he had never cared for friendship, Tom had never cared for love. He did not think it was a weakness as his father did, but he did think it was not as important as people made it out to be. And, also, why care for love when something terrible, something that would likely cost lives was being prepared? 

But then again, y/n challenged that idea. Despite being in the same house and the same year, it took Tom several years to properly notice her. He knew she was one of Mattheo’s close friends outside of his usual group, and that gave them occasions to spend time together. Strangely, Tom had first found her company more tolerable than the others - she seemed to understand his will for silence, deep conversations and his interests, seemed to have the same thirst for knowledge. She was kind as well, having what people called “a heart of gold”, always ready to help anybody in need. She was also warm and funny, two things she shared with Mattheo, and it usually didn’t take people enough to want to be her friend. Tom had considered y/n the closest thing he had to a friend, and he thought he would stay that way until, one day, he saw her and Mattheo sitting closer to each other than usual, and he felt something strange, something he didn’t expect to feel, and something he struggled to understand - jealousy. He didn’t think it was that at first, but it became obvious it indeed was jealousy when he found himself wishing that he was the one sitting next to her, and not Mattheo. 

From that moment, he kept thinking about y/n in ways he had never done before - how beautiful she was, how he loved her smile, how he wanted to hold her hand, to smell her addictive perfume, to be the person who mattered most to her… how he wanted to hold and kiss her. He had considered those thoughts as foolish at first and tried to not have them, but everytime he was with y/n, they came back running, and he sometimes had to restrain himself from sitting closer to her just to smell her perfume when they were in class, or to hold her hand when they were studying in the library. He didn’t have anybody to ask questions to - Mattheo would laugh at him - so, like he always did, Tom gave himself the answer: it was love. At first, he thought it was only temporary and it didn’t even cross his mind to tell her about it, but he was forced to admit that, instead of disappearing, those feelings became stronger with each day passing. The idea displeased him, and he tried to avoid y/n so these feelings would go away, but it was in vain, and only made him miss y/n - and made him love her more. But one day, as he was sitting on his desk busy thinking about her instead of studying, the idea of just telling her how he felt seemed right. Of course, the idea of rejection secretly terrified him, but he would accept simply being her friend. y/n deserved a loyal, sincere friend and that is what Tom was. All she had to do was give him a chance he could be the boyfriend - the word seemed so meaningless compared to what he felt - she deserved, a boyfriend who would be loyal, caring, sincere, and who would put her and her needs and safety first.  

Thus, he got her favorite flowers, and, having thought about what to say to her for hours, decided to go and ask her to have a moment of her time. And now the time had come. He grabbed the bouquet, and, trying to pull himself together, left his dorm. At that hour, y/n should be in the common room. With a bit of luck, she would be alone. Tom headed for the common room, which was nearly empty except for two first years laughing. He started looking for y/n, and his heart, which had started to beat faster with nervosity and hope, almost broke. 

y/n was indeed here, standing in a corner of the room - kissing Mattheo, who had a hand on her waist and the other in her hair. He broke the kiss, looked at her in a way Tom had never seen him and y/n had a smile before Mattheo pressed his lips on hers like he couldn’t help it. 

Tom took a step back, and the only thing that stopped him from dropping the bouquet was the noise he knew it would make. He turned around and quickly yet silently went back to his dorm - where the flowers finally met the ground. His back against the door, he almost wanted to laugh now. How could he have been so foolish? It should have been obvious to him from the start that y/n, warm and kind y/n, would prefere Mattheo, Mattheo would everybody loved or at least fond of, who had no problems making friends and be with people, Mattheo who had never been anything like their father. Mattheo, who people didn’t intimidate or rightfully found cold and strange. 

You’ve won, brother. 

As always, Tom Riddle found he had been right. Love was meaningless, and he should never have cared for it - should have never cared for her - in the first place. 

He was right, but for the first time in his life, he wished he wasn’t.

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[delewlew]

coke with lemon: oscar piastri x hijabi black fem! reader

request: hi there I would love a make an request for Oscar and an hijabi reader where Oscar is a simp for her and Lando loves to be near her to annoy Oscar. Thank you. @animeandf1lover

warnings: none

authors note: thank you so much for the request! this is my first time writing for a hijabi reader so i hope i portrayed this respectfully. i did a bit of homework to make sure i was doing your request justice so i hope you enjoy it. if there's anything that is incorrect, offensive, disrespectful, etc please let me know immediately and i'll be more than willing to fix it. lastly, comments and messages are always appreciated and encouraged!

you were a friend of lando's and he'd told you about this guy he knew called oscar. every time lando brought this oscar up in conversation you were quick to shut it down, insisting that you didn't want to date anyone and your friend needed to stop trying to set you up. little did you know, oscar was the one asking for a chance to meet you.

you'd crossed paths at a party and you noticed him staring at you then looking away when he was caught. part of you thought it was creepy but then again why would lando invite a creep to his birthday party? so you approached him to see what his deal was.

rather quickly you came to the realization that he was the oscar lando had told you about- tall, brown hair with a side bang, kinda awkward, and australian.

you liked the way his eyes met yours then darted elsewhere every now and again when you spoke to him. the way his ears turned red and a smile fought its way onto his face when you laughed.

he'd asked if you wanted something to drink and you absentmindedly agreed without specifying what you wanted. so you just watched him from a distance and mentally prepared yourself for having to turn something away.

but then you noticed the bartender handed him two glasses and he handed you one, "it's just coke with lemon, is that alright?"

and when lando found you both talking he was quick to make it known that he'd been trying to make this happen for months. oscar was quick to shoo him off, "i think i see one of your lady friends looking for you over there. how about you go see if she's alright."

months passed and you and oscar had gone on a few dates, alternating between who picked the place.

he might be a little awkward but you both always end up having meaningful conversations without any problem.

he showed genuine interest in you and everything about you, asking you about your favorite things and committing them to memory.

you didn't know too much about f1, but you'd known some from being friends with lando. however, you became an expert within a week because you were just that interested in oscar.

he asked you to be his girlfriend one night after you'd texted him that you couldn't sleep so he came over and you went on a walk before he walked you back home.

lando took credit for orchestrating the entire thing the minute he found out and you and oscar just let him have it.

you noticed the the ways oscar showed his affection towards you like walking on the outside of the sidewalk, listening to you go on rants about that show you watch that he doesn't understand, opening doors for you especially in the car, giving you small gifts here and there just because.

he made the mistake of buying you flowers when he was out with lando once. he'd seen this bunch of pink and orange tulips and he grabbed them for you. lando assumed it was for a specific holiday or something but instead oscar reasoned that he was getting them because 'they reminded him of you'.

so when you received them lando was sitting there with a stupidly big smile and whispering to him, "why don't you tell y/n why you got her these lovely tulips."

oscar's face was beet red as he exhaled and admitted, "i thought they were beautiful which reminded me of you."

you found the whole thing adorable but oscar found it as a reason to avoid lando when he was doing anything for or with you.

complements aren't exclusive to 'you look beautiful' he tends to bring up things you wouldn't think someone would notice. like when he was asked about you by a host during a podcast and he highlighted that you were hardworking, determined, genuine, selfless, and that he loved your outlook on life.

lando was there for that one too....yes he was quick to send you a voice note mimicking oscar's accent and reciting word for word everything he said.

oscar tended to be very focused on race weekends but the second you let the nickname "ozzie" slip he was done for. absoultely anything you wanted or asked for was going to be given, all you had to do was bat your pretty little eyes and smile.

lando absolutely loved to bring it up, claiming that if you asked him to jump off a cliff that he'd do it. oscar couldn't deny it either all he could say was "why would she ask me to do that?"

the first time you held his hand he smiled the entire day, and yes it was a race day and yes it did in fact go viral, and yes lando didn't let him hear the end of it.

every single weekend the first thing you did was tell him how proud you were of his performance during the race.

it was evident when you'd seen him before press and when you hadn't because he was only ever smiley after seeing you.

and of course lando teased the hell out of him for it, insisting you stay by his side all the time to keep him in a constant good mood.

but he couldn't help it, he was in love and you were too.