#even if she doesn’t like you i don’t think she’d stop talking to you bc you probably matter a lot to her too :(

[ellecdc]

Can i request something bit angsty? 🥺 its totally fine if you dont wanna write it tho!

I was thinking, wolfstar x reader got into an argument and reader started to occlude and the boys got scared they might be out of line bcs she only occlude when shes really hurting?

this is my SHIT - love me some hurt/comfort. thanks for requesting, lovie 🫶

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

CW: hurt/comfort, arguing, mention of past family discourse, toxic family memories

“I’m sorry. You did what?” Sirius beseeched, walking into the living room from the kitchen and interrupting the points (arguments) you and Remus were each in the process of making. You gave him an unimpressed look, knowing he wasn’t actually asking you to repeat yourself, he just couldn’t believe what he had heard.

“She gave Mary-Ella over a grand.” Remus muttered bitterly.

“I did not give Mary-Ella money, I loaned her money.” You were quick to correct.

Sirius just scoffed. “Sure you did, dollface.” He sneered, making his usual pet-name burn to the touch. “You are never going to see that money again.”

“What were you thinking?” Remus implored.

“I was thinking that my friend was in a bind and needed help. I hardly think that’s a crime.” 

“You didn’t just loan a little bit of money, though. You loaned a lot of money to a friend who is not reliable in the slightest.” Remus asserted.

“We have been working so hard trying to save up to move. To move closer to Diagon Alley so that Remus can be closer to work, and we can finally get out of my uncles flat.” Sirius added.

“I know we’ve been working hard, Sirius. I know this because I too have been working hard. But I’m not going to watch my friend struggle when there’s something I could do to help!”

“This choice impacted all of us. You had no right to make this decision on your own.”

It was your turn to scoff as you turned to glare at Remus incredulously. You had been trying to stay patient, knowing that this close to the moon, Remus was feeling extra sensitive. But him ganging-up on you with Sirius quickly found what little patience you had running thin. “I 'had no right' to make a decision about money that I made on my own?”

“You have no ground to stand on, buttercup. You’re now out more than a grand because of this choice; we’re all out more than a grand because of your choice.” Sirius growled, tone full of derision.

“If the roles were reversed, Mary-Ella would help me out!” You tried to reason, only for Remus to bark a laugh.

“That doesn’t even matter, dove. Because you’d never be in her position and likewise, she’d never be in yours. She’s irresponsible, unreliable, and a mooch.”

You tried to ignore the burning sensation in your sinuses as you spoke to the back of Remus’ head; he apparently had grown so disgusted with you that he couldn’t even look at you anymore. 

“I don’t like you talking about my friends like that. I don’t understand why we’re making such a big deal about this, I jus-” but you were cut off as Remus stood abruptly and turned on you. 

“We’re making this a big deal because it is a big deal!” he bellowed. “You leave this apartment in the morning and it’s like Sirius and I don’t exist anymore. You conduct yourself like some single woman with no responsibility to anyone else but herself.”

“You’re being selfish. You can’t possibly expect to drop a bomb on us like this and, what, expect us to just reply with ‘yes dear’? You fucked up, Y/N.” Sirius added, arms crossed defensively over his chest and cold silver eyes glared daggers that permeated your entire being. Remus carried on, unperturbed by the effects this conversation was having on you.

You felt like you were seventeen again, like you were eleven, nine, six. You felt like a babe whose hand had been slapped for reasons beyond your comprehension.

Do you ever stop and think about the consequences, Y/N?

You were sitting at the dining room table as your father lashed you with his words, each sentence punctuated with the slamming of his fists on the table. You were standing on the platform having just reunited with your parents after the school year as your mother’s claws dug into your arms, warning you that punishment was to come later if you didn’t smarten up. You were cowering in the backyard as your father screamed at you in front of the entire neighbourhood – a free show for all to enjoy. 

You think crying will earn you any sympathy here? You’re a manipulative little witch if you think that will work on me. Keep crying and I’ll give you something to cry about. 

You felt naked – like your figurative clothes had been violently ripped from your body – and there you stood, stripped bare for all to leer at. Standing before two people...who were meant to love you unconditionally...as they laced their words with venom and spat vitriol at you.

You couldn’t even hear the point Remus was trying to make anymore. It didn’t matter anyway.

He hated you. You were hated. You were a disappointment, a burden, unwanted.

But you couldn’t cry – could never cry. You’d just be manipulating them. You were deceitful. Emotions were deceitful. The way you felt was wrong. And they were right.

Always right. 

So, you did what you always did; you made it quiet. 

You began layering rows of stones around your being. Protection. Space. Distance. Safety.

They couldn’t hurt you from all the way in here, not from the other side of your wall. You’d be safe here. Here in the quiet.

It was safe in the quiet. 

Sirius felt disgraceful at how long it took him to notice the signs of you pulling away from the conversation. Away from them. Away from him.

Remus – always more sensitive than the two of you when it came to the likes of money, combined with feeling extra flustered with the upcoming full moon – had no reason to expect nor recognize signs of occlusion. 

Suddenly, Sirius was fourteen again. Walburga was standing over him with her wand aimed at his chest, but all he could see was Regulus. He had prayed at the time that his brother could hear him begging in his mind:

Turn it off, Reg. Just turn it off. It can’t hurt you if you turn it off. 

Sirius himself sat in an almost constant state of occlusion during his fifth year, knowing somewhere deep in his gut that the beginning of the end of his life as the heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black (or the end of his life in general) was near. 

Growing up wasn’t a whole lot easier for you, it seemed. And he knew that when things got to be too much, you did what you needed to do to protect yourself.

He suddenly hated himself. You weren’t supposed to need to protect yourself from him and Remus. It was their job to protect you; just like you always protected them. 

How you protected Remus from wasting away on the days leading up to and recovering from the full moon. You never let him go hungry or thirsty, you always made sure the space was clean and tidy, and you never let him fall into his typical pre- and post-moon self-loathing.

And you protected Sirius from himself; from saying things that he wouldn’t be able to take back, from being the worst version of himself, from losing you and Remus completely. 

He didn’t deserve you.

You didn’t deserve this.

For fuck’s sake all you had been doing was being kind.

Being a good friend, someone that others could rely on, protecting people who meant so much to you. 

All you were doing was being your kind, courteous, protective, generous self that Remus and Sirius had fallen in love with from the very start.

“Moony!” Sirius pleaded, causing the lycanthrope to pause in his tangent. You didn’t even flinch at the sudden change in the atmosphere as Remus looked at Sirius bewilderedly. 

“We’ve lost her.” Sirius murmured quietly, causing Remus to spin to observe you. 

“Well...” Remus began, still struggling to shake off his anger and the need to argue. “But I-”

“It’s enough, Remus.” Sirius hissed quietly, staring at Remus with a look he hoped conveyed no nonsense.

He apparently succeeded as Remus let out whatever breath he’d been holding as he turned again to face you.

“Dove, I’m sorry.” Remus whispered as he tried to move towards you, but you instinctively took a step back to maintain the distance between you; your arms wrapped around your middle protectively as if that was all that was holding you together. 

Sirius’ heart felt like it split in two – and based off of the look on Remus’ face, he wasn’t fairing any better.

“Y/N?” Sirius tried. You didn’t turn to look at him, but you hummed in quasi-acknowledgement.

“Can you look at me?” He tried quietly, but you shook your head no. 

Remus made a pained sound as he tried to move towards you again, ducking his head down in an attempt to make eye contact with you. You didn’t back away from him this time, but your arms tightened in their hold around your middle.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I...I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m...I was out of line.”

“Come back?” Sirius pleaded. “Please.”

You took a deep breath and turned your face towards your boyfriends, but Sirius could tell your eyes were still foggy – you were still hiding.

“We won’t talk about it anymore. That conversation is done.” Sirius said.

“But-” you started, voice grating from the tightness in your throat, but he cut you off.

“The conversation is done. You did what you thought was right, you were being your kind lovely self, helping your friend when they needed you. We shouldn’t have yelled at you, sweets. I’m sorry.”

Remus made another pained sound and moved closer to you again.

“Dovey, I’m so sorry. Please, can I- would you like a hug?”

Sirius watched as you looked at Remus, seeming to weigh your options before you nodded once at him. Remus needn’t any more invitation and quickly (though gently) made for you, enveloping you in his arms. 

The three of you stayed like that – Remus with his arms around you, you with your arms around yourself and your face pushed into his chest, and Sirius standing helplessly at the side – before Sirius started to notice some tension leaving your shoulders.

“Why’d you go?” He asked you quietly, gently placing a hand in the middle of your shoulder blades and rubbing in a way he hoped was soothing.

“I didn’t want to cry.” You admitted into Remus’ chest, neither boy missing how tight your voice seemed to be, even as your voice barely raised above a whisper. 

“Oh, dolly. Just cry. Cry, okay? Make us feel like tossers, but don’t leave.” Sirius said.

“I didn’t want you to feel bad.” You muttered wetly, finally turning so Sirius could see your red and wet face. 

“But we deserved it. Oh, my love.” Remus cooed as he all but picked you up and locked your legs around his hips, forcing you to move your grip from around yourself to around him.

“I’m not s’posed to make you cry. I’m s’posed to make you smile.” He muttered pitifully, pressing his lips into your hair.

“And cum.” Sirius spoke in the same pitiful tone, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead.

You laughed wetly and the last of your occlusion appeared to slip away which was what Sirius had been aiming for. It didn’t make him feel all that much better though.

“Oh, my girl. I’m so sorry, Pads is right. You were just being your lovely self, and I’m a bastard.”

Sirius watched as your brows furrowed. “You’re not a bastard.”

“No,” Sirius agreed readily, “he was just being a bastard. Both of us were. Do you think you can forgive us?”

You nodded quickly but Remus tsked in response.

“Don’t let us off so easily, dovey. Make us pay for it. What do you need? Do you need a foot rub? You want cake? Ice cream? What about a kitten? You’ve always wanted a kitten.”

You had been shaking your head at everything Remus said until the last one, your curiosity obviously piqued.

Fuckin’ hells, Sirius thought, if she gets a kitten everytime one of us acts like an arse, we’re going to be overrun with cats by next month. 

[moonstruckme]

i cannot stop thinking about oblivious reader and remus where she’s talking about how she’s never been with anyone before bc no one likes her so remus is like i like you!! but she’s like haha ok yeah bc we are friends!! and he has to be like no i like you but she just thinks he’s taking piss but he’s actually being real with her i’m so 🤧

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: mention of alcohol

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 870 words

“Ugh, they’re disgusting.” You take a sip of your drink, looking at James and Lily over the rim of your cup. Lily’s eating an ice cream sandwich she’d found in Sirius’ freezer, offering James bites while he traces lines between her freckles with his pinkie. “I want to be them so badly.” 

Remus hums. It’s the tail end of one of Sirius’ parties (or his soirees, as he insists upon calling them), and the atmosphere is heavy with a pleasant lethargy. The music is still playing from his record player, some slowish, bass-heavy rock, but most everyone has cleared out, and Sirius himself has fallen asleep on the opposite side of the couch from Lily and James, his mouth hanging open. 

“I wonder what it’s like to be in love,” you sigh. Remus turns to you, catching the longing in your look just before you hide it away. 

“You’ve never been in love?” he asks you. 

You give him a funny look. “No.” You shrug. “I’ve never dated anyone before.” 

Remus hadn’t known that. He has to remind himself, again, that he doesn’t know all that much about you. You’re new to their little group, a coworker of Lily’s that she’d started bringing around recently. Remus doesn’t know you very well, but he’s found the learning process surprisingly enjoyable. He likes being around you. 

“How’s that?” It slips out before he can think it through, brash and unlike him. He backpedals immediately. “Sorry, that was rude, I only meant that I’m a bit surprised. You don’t have to answer.” 

“No, it’s okay.” You give him a smile, infinite in your benevolence. “People just don’t seem to think of me that way. No one’s ever liked me.” 

You sound so casual about it, but Remus can’t help but think that must not be a nice way to think of yourself. He’s sure you’ve been considered romantically by plenty of people, even if they never had the guts to tell you about it. You’re lovely. You deserve to know it. 

He musters his courage. “I like you.” 

You laugh, and he thinks Sirius is going to have to mop his self-esteem up off the floor tomorrow morning as part of his party cleanup. 

“Thanks,” you say, “but you don’t count.” 

 Why the hell not?

“I mean, I’m glad you don’t mind me,” you go on, taking another sip of your drink, “but it’s different when you’re friends. I meant that nobody’s ever liked me, like, romantically.” 

You go a bit shy at the last word, self-consciousness pulling your shoulders almost imperceptibly upwards. Remus forgives your oversight instantly. 

“Do you really think it’s so unlikely that anyone could like you romantically?” he asks, refusing to lower his gaze even when you shrink a bit at the question. “You’re a catch, love, trust me.” 

You shake your head and smile, frustratingly good-natured. “Easy for you to say, you don’t have to date me.”

“Have to?” Remus’ voice rises incredulously. He glances towards James and Lily on the couch, lowering it. “I would love to.” 

“Ha ha,” you monotone, rolling your eyes and raising your cup to your lips. 

He can’t believe you think he’d joke about this. He can’t figure out what’s more cruel, the way you keep inadvertently shooting him down or the fact that you seem so heart-wrenchingly prepared to be made fun of. “I mean it.” Remus lets his voice drop into a more genuine register, and something in your look softens. “I would date you. I want to, if you do. You’re far from impossible to like.” 

Your lips actually part in surprise. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah, I…” He looks over at the couch, but James and Lily are effectively as dead to the world as Sirius, and at the volume you’re both speaking he doubts they’d be able to hear you over the music anyway. “I think you’re really lovely. I’ve been meaning to do something about it, I just…I didn’t know how. But would you want to?”

“To go on a date?” you ask, looking a bit dazed. Remus smiles, but before he can confirm you laugh at yourself, the sound rich and sweet as dark chocolate. “Sorry, that might be a stupid question. I haven’t done this before.” 

“I can’t believe that.” He shakes his head, astounded. For a girl like you to never get asked out? Well, it makes things a bit easier for him, jealousy-wise, but objectively it’s criminal. Remus supposes he’ll have to make up for it himself. “But yeah, I’d like to go on a date.” 

You nod, smile sticking on your face. “Me too. I’d like that.”

“Good,” he says, finding that your smile seems to have stuck to him too. “Tomorrow, maybe? We could go for coffee.” He looks out the window behind you, where a faint line of gold on the horizon shows promise of sunrise. “I think we’ll both be needing it.” 

You laugh again. Remus decides that he likes it better than any song Sirius has played all night. “That sounds perfect. Thank you, Remus.” 

He’s not sure what you’re thanking him for. He’s the one who gets to take you to coffee tomorrow. He ought to be thanking you.

[irndad]

hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺

enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily

He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 

And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 

But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 

Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 

It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”

His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 

“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 

“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“

“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”

It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.

It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.

“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”

A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 

He’s just so tired. 

He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 

His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 

His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 

“Are you planning on coming to bed?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 

“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”

Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”

She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 

“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.

“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”

[greengoblinswifey]

Hi

I would love if you can do one reader x Nicholas. Sisters best friend. The readers sister was friends with Nicholas bc she was influencer. Nicholas wanted to ask you out but your sister disapprove,because he was known as player. No smut please and thank you !

warnings— player!nicholas, slight heartbreak, angst, slight fluff.

a/n— no smut so i’m assuming you want angst maybe a bit of fluff, enjoy i hope i met your expectations <3

One afternoon, you went over to your sister’s apartment after she invited you to help her plan an influencer party she was hosting. As you approached her door, you overheard voices coming from inside. You stopped, recognizing that she was talking to Nicholas. They’d been best friends for a long time, especially since she’d started making a name for herself online and he became a famous actor, and they’d been by each other’s side for years as they navigated their journey. Your heart skipped a beat hearing his voice—you’d had a crush on him for months, but you’d tried to keep it under wraps, not wanting to complicate things. But now, it was all too real.

“Look, you can’t date her,” your sister said, her tone low but insistent. “I don’t want you to ask her out, or even think about it.”

You heard a pause, and then his response. “I’d never hurt her. She’s different.” His voice was soft, almost pleading, as if he’d been hoping to get your sister’s blessing.

Your sister sighed, clearly skeptical. “But that’s the problem. You’re all over dating apps lately, and don’t even get me started on what I’ve heard about you and your last girlfriend. People are saying you cheated. My sister deserves someone who’s stable and serious, not, whatever it is you’re doing.” Her tone held a sharp edge.

You lingered outside the door, a mixture of embarrassment and hurt welling up inside. It stung to hear her talk about him like that, but there was part of you that knew she was probably right. Yet there was another part of you that wanted to believe he was telling the truth, that he wouldn’t hurt you, that he really did want to be with you.

Maybe you were naive or just hopeful. Or blinded by the strong feelings you had for Nicholas all these months, especially since his rise to fame, it hurt you to see him out and about with your sister’s influencer friends and other women— his costars.

Eventually, he left, looking defeated, and your sister’s words stayed with you, reminding you of the risks. Still, the lingering desire was there; you couldn’t simply ignore the spark you’d felt for so long. The idea of being with him felt right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to defy your sister’s warning, not openly at least.

The night of the influencer party, you caught sight of him in the crowd, looking as charming as ever. Your stomach twisted when you saw him talking to another girl, who looked just as captivated by him. You watched as they laughed, getting closer, until eventually, he led her away from the crowd and down the hall. You felt a pang of hurt. The crush, the dreams, all of it seemed so foolish now. Your sister had been right; he really was the player she’d warned you about.

Later, when he reappeared, you tried to act unfazed, but he noticed you looking his way. He approached, guilt evident in his expression, and you didn’t hold back. “I saw you with her,” you said, crossing your arms, not even bothering to hide your disappointment.

He paused, seemingly struggling with what to say. “It didn’t mean anything,” he said finally, his voice barely audible. “I was just, trying to get over you. I didn’t know what else to do.”

You felt a surge of frustration and hurt. “Trying to get over me by being with someone else? That doesn’t change anything,” you said, shaking your head. “I wanted to believe you, but my sister was right about you.”

As you walked away, you felt the weight of closure settle in. Maybe things could have been different, but he’d shown you who he was, and you were finally ready to let him go.

The rest of the night, you tried your best to enjoy yourself at the party. You laughed, danced, and chatted with others, determined not to let him ruin your night. Yet, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him standing by himself, drink in hand, looking unusually contemplative. For once, he wasn’t mingling with other girls or putting on a show, instead, he seemed lost in thought, a hint of defeat on his face. Maybe he’d finally realized that this reputation he’d built for himself wasn’t as fulfilling as he’d thought. You could almost feel the shift in him, as though he was reconsidering everything and beginning to question if this player lifestyle was really worth losing someone like you.

At the end of the night, you and your sister were winding down back at her place, getting ready to stay over after the party. While everyone else was settling in, he found a quiet moment to approach you. He looked tired, yet determined, and there was an apology in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, reaching out like he wanted to hug you. “I know I messed up. I want you to know that it wasn’t just, casual for me. I’d never want to hurt you like this.”

You took a step back, crossing your arms. “You made your choice,” you replied, a touch of sadness in your voice. “If you really wanted me, you’d have fought for me, done everything to prove to my sister that you’re serious. You can’t just say sorry now and expect it to change things.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “You’re right. I messed up, and I don’t know if I can fix it, but, I want to try. Maybe not just for you, but for myself, too.”

Without another word, you turned away, retreating to your sister’s room. You crawled into bed beside her, feeling the weight of it all start to lift. She wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “I’m sorry things turned out this way,” she murmured, her voice soft with understanding.

“It’s fine,” you replied, managing a small smile. “It’ll be fine. Maybe he’ll change, maybe he won’t. But I know I deserve better.”

Your sister nodded, squeezing your hand. “I think he can change, but it’s going to take time, a long time,” she said, and you nodded, knowing she was probably right.

The next morning, as everyone was preparing to leave, he found you one last time. This time, there was a sense of quiet resolution in his eyes. He hugged you gently, murmuring, “I’ll walk to the ends of the earth if that’s what it takes. I’ll do whatever I need to, to win her approval and show you I mean it.”

You pulled back, still guarded. “We’ll see,” you replied, giving him a small nod before leaving with your sister.

[mimasroom2]

Bunny baby ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ♡

Ellie x reader w ptsd

𓂋

ʚ♡ɞ

I was inspired by @elliezlils11utt fic of Ellie x hypersexual reader and it reminded me I’ve always wanted to write some Ellie hcs that can help my ptsd :)

This is specifically with Jackson!ellie bc she’s my favorite :3

C/w: ptsd obviously. A bit of smut. Mostly fluff tho :3. Flashbacks. Intrusive memories. Triggers. MDNI 😒

W/c: ≈ 800

~

- It depends on how you guys met + how your relationship started,, but you’d definitely be super shy ab your trauma & ptsd and would avoid telling her as long as you can.

- When you finally tell her she’d be soooo sweet☹️. She’d sit you guys down on the couch and sit across from you criss cross applesauce style

- You wipe your tears away and laugh a little at how cute she is. Like why’d she have to go and sit like that ?!!

- You don’t feel nervous with her per se,,, but you feel kinda weird uncanny and naked (in a gross way) talking ab this, so most of the time when ur ranting you’ll focus on her eyebrow scar.

- You talk for as long as you want to and Ellie listens and nods and holds ur hand if u start crying ☹️☹️

- Surprisingly she doesn’t say anything like “whoever did this to you is gonna fuckin’ pay ‘mkay??” Because yknow….. she’s Ellie. She doesn’t want to rile you or herself up and make you uncomfortable >•<

- When you’re done explaining she’s gonna hug you and ask to kiss you. She’ll reassure you and say “Thank you for telling me baby. Now that I know I can try to help you in any way I can,, and I’ll stick by your side no matter what.” She giggles as she pulls you in closer :))))

- She’ll try to understand your triggers but sometimes it’s really hard for her to. “Fuck I’m so sorry princess.. was it what I said or like.. the way I said it?”

- The truth is she LOVESSS cuddling and if you’re ever upset she knows it’ll for sure calm you down.

- Even if ur trauma isn’t related to sex she’d still be careful and sweet with you. Like,,, you’d have to BEG her to degrade you.

- “Els please… I know what im asking for I literally think it’s so hot when you do it🙁”

- “Angel idk if it’s really a good idea bc you had all those intrusive memories today..”

- “Ellie if you don’t degrade me I literally don’t think I will cum.”

- And then she perks up and yelps “ON IT!” 😭😭😭

- During the middle of it she’d literally stop and ruin it😭 “Yeah? You fuckin’ like these fingers huh babe? God such a fuckin’ slut for me..” she whispers in your ear”… heyyy is this like… still okay or? I dunno just seemed weird.” As you were like MOANING AND WHIMPERING

- You playfully smack her face “YES ELLIE please just- you don’t have to hold back!”

- Aftercare would be hugeeee for the both of you. Just in general Ellie really needs it but especially for you.

- “Jus’ don’t wanna hurt my princess after I’m done fucking your cute pussy” she looks down at you and you squeal for her to stop and cover your face with your hands.

- She laughs and rubs your back and starts talking casually about what her plans are for tomorrow.

- Sometimes you feel guilty that you’re taking up most of the attention in the relationship bc of your ptsd but she immediately interrupts your rambling and reassures you ♡

- If you have nightmares she’d wake you up and cuddle + distract you until you were tired enough to fall asleep again.

- Maybe if you were in the mood she’d distract you by eating you out 🤭

- If you ever felt uncomfortable or had a panic attack or flashback in public she’d take you home immediately even if it was inconvenient.

- “No babe.. what the fuck no.. it was not your fault okay. Getting scared is never your fault.” She tilts your chin up (,,•o•,,) “Let’s just try to calm down, yeah? That’s my girl.”

- Ellie hears ab service animals for ptsd and since Jackson really only has horses she managed to find you a BUNNY

- “Ellie how the fuck WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU FIND THIS BUNNY?!!,??.!.”

- “Don’t be scared babbbbbeeee I just got it somewhere okay?” She smiles all mischievous and lifts the brown bunny up. Its nose twitches.

- “Who’d you have to trade? WHAT did you trade actually??” Your eyes grow wide.

- “Jus’ got it from Tommy baby,,, no big deal.” She sits down on her knees to put it in the cage she got. “Found this cage jus’ lyin’ there. Asked around and nobody needed it.”

- After a few hours of playing with your new bunny you kiss her cheek in bed and whisper “Really, Els. Where’d the damn bunny come from.”

- “Really I already told you! Got it from Tommy… I was uh.. askin’ about like what he thought would be good for ptsd and he told me about a time where people would have dogs and other animals trained to help people. I dunno I thought it was cool.” She smiles sheepishly.

- You think that is the sweetest thing EVER because you thought she just finally wanted a pet for the two of you (❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡

~

I’m actually gonna melt why do ppl never write sweet Ellie 😞💘

[yelenasbitch]

Death's Revival - Chapter One

Summary: Natasha's sudden and tragic ending left behind many mourning loved ones, including her wife. Yelena tracked down Clint, and now she's going to meet her sister's wife, only without her sister there to help out. Grief is a process for friends and family, especially when it ends suddenly...

Word Count: 3,541

Warnings: Grief, mentions of death/dying, weight issues, memory issues, etc.

A/N: I wrote this bc this is what happened, and that's only if you believe Thanos was real and not an anxiety induced dream sequence...

Masterlist (coming soon)

Chapter 1: Mourning Widows

You hear the elevator ding, hear the doors open, and you simply sigh inwardly, knowing who it is. Sure enough, Steve knocks lightly on the kitchen door, an absurd but nice gesture that he insists on, and then he comes in, the same kind and resigned look on his face that you see every week. 

You don’t say anything, don’t move from where you’re wrapped in a blanket and pressed against the bay window in the living room. He walks through the kitchen and comes to sit on the couch, carefully and quietly. The two of you sit there for a while in silence, and that's fine with you, you’d be happy if he stopped coming altogether. No, you think, not happy , not anymore, but satisfied seems like the right word. You’d be satisfied if he left you and your grief alone forever, for the rest of time.

“Sam and Bucky are going to stop by tomorrow,” Steve says quietly, watching your face for a glimmer of interest, a spark of excitement, anything to remind him of the vivacious and vibrant woman you had been a little over a year ago. 

You simply nod, keeping your eyes pointed out the window. He sighs, and if you could feel anything besides the numbness and all consuming heartbreak, you think you would feel guilty. He’s just trying to cheer you up, take care of you, and heaven knows that you haven’t made it easy for him. 

The months, now almost two years, since Natasha… since it happened, you’ve been a husk of a human being. You’d stayed at the compound, not wanting to leave the home you and your wife had shared, even though it was a painful reminder of what and who you had lost. The future that would never come for you, and the woman who would never come home again. Still, Steve had come by every couple days to make sure you were ok, and then after a few months, he’d come once a week. He’s concerned about you, and he has every right to feel that way. You forget to eat most days, even though he’s tasked FRIDAY to remind you at least once a day, and you don’t do anything but move from the bed to the couch to the window and back again. 

“Clint is also stopping by, said he needed to talk to you,” at this your head swivels sharply to him, your eyes locking. He looks relieved at this sign of awareness, even though he knows what's coming.

“No.” It’s simple and to the point, even though your voice is rough, speaking for the first time in—maybe since Steve was here last week, maybe longer. You can’t really remember at this point. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Not anymore.

                                                                       ~~

“Thank you for telling me everything, Clint. I know, and want you to know, that you couldn't have stopped her, not once she’d made up her mind. It’s not your fault, what happened, and she was your best friend and loved you so much. I just, well, I can’t—” you break off, tears choking you as you look away from Clint and focus on her tombstone, both of you here for the first month's anniversary.

“You can’t look at me and not hate me. I get it, trust me.” Clint gives a wry smile and a shake of his head. You hold in a sob, try and calm yourself down a bit.

“I just can’t be mad at my dead wife.” He nods, getting up from where he’s been sitting next to you on the ground.

“I’ll be here if you need me, but I won’t…I’ll keep my distance.” He gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head, and then he’s gone, into the wind, by the time your sobs have died down enough to be able to talk.

He’d kept his word, stayed away after that. You were grateful. And heartbroken.

                                                                       ~~

“You know he wouldn’t come by if it wasn't important,” Steve’s voice drags you back to the present.

You scoff at him, “nothing is important anymore.” And when he goes to talk, you keep speaking, “it’s fine. I’ll see him, all of them, tomorrow.”

He looks relieved, “thank you.” You nod in response. Or maybe you just think about nodding. You’re not sure and it doesn't matter.

There's a silence, and then: “I’m tired now,” and you stand up, unfolding yourself from the window seat and briefly wondering how long you’d been sitting there, how many hours it’s been.

Steve nods and stands as well. The two of you walk through the room and out the door, and he pulls you in for a gentle hug before he walks to the elevator. You wait until the doors close behind him and then walk to your room. Keeping the lights off, you crawl into bed and pull the covers tightly over you, arranging the pillow the way you like. You stare into the dark room as the silent tears begin making their way down your face and you try in vain to prepare yourself for tomorrow, for Clint’s arrival.

                                                                           ~~

The next day you’re back in the bay window when you hear the elevator again, and for a few seconds it’s silent, and your heart beats faster. He seems to remember then, starts making noises as he moves closer, and you curse your foolish heart for even entertaining the idea, for reminding you of Natasha’s silent footsteps whenever she moved around anywhere.

Not a great start to this encounter.

Clint comes in, not wasting any time with the foolish knocking that Steve insists upon doing every single time he comes.

You shift your head, face Clint, though you can’t quite meet his eyes. He can’t meet yours either, or the bags under them.

“I met Yelena.” He says finally, breaking the quiet tension in the air.

You blink twice, “how?” 

“She tried to kill me.” He says bluntly, and you sit there in shock for a second before you’re laughing for the first time in months. It must sound a bit hysterical, because Clint gets even more uneasy, and you quiet yourself down quickly.

“Oh?” you ask, motioning for him to take a seat, and then he tells you everything, the whole story between him and Kate Bishop and Yelena. By the end you’re moments away from crying, and Clint looks like he is too.

“I also mentioned you, and she knew who you were, although I guess she… well, she just kinda forgot about you.” He looks concerned when he says that, worried that he’s somehow hurt your feelings with this. You want to laugh again, at the absurdity that Yelena forgetting your existence would be enough to hurt you anymore, but you know it would absolutely sound hysterical again, so you just shrug.

The two of you sit there for a while, unspeaking, each lost in thought. Eventually, mostly because you want him to leave, you pluck up your courage and break the silence.

“Why are you really here, Clint?” You need to know, Steve could’ve told you about Yelena, so it isn’t that.

“I wanted to check on you,” there’s a loaded pause before he continues, “and Yelena wants to see you.” He waits for his words to sink in, your mind slow and foggy now in a way that he’s still unused to, even all these months later.

“Why?” it’s the only word that your brain can come up with, surprise flooding in; actually, your brain is also screaming ‘no’ but you have a feeling that it won’t be that easy to dismiss this, to run from it.

Clint looks at you oddly, and you realize that you’re probably not thinking clearly, not used to being around people and having human conversations anymore. It doesn't matter, he can explain it to you, remind you how normal people think. He owes it to you.

“You were her wife,” he says and you get angry, feel something other than grief and guilt and sadness, and it shocks you into moving, standing and facing him.

“I am still her wife.” Your words are venomous and Clint’s eyes go wide. And even though your wasted figure wrapped in one of Natasha’s old jackets must not cut an imposing image, he still looks shaken. Good. 

Nodding, he speaks again, “yes, of course. And that’s why Yelena wants to meet with you, to talk about…her.”

It strikes you at this moment that neither of you have said Natasha’s name out loud. It hurts to realize, and hurts even more to try and say it.

Your jaw clenches. 

The elevator dings.

“Just think about it, please.”

And then Steve, Bucky, and Sam walk into the room, finding you still standing over Clint with anger and agony written all over your face. Everyone freezes for a second, and then with one last glance at Clint, you shift focus to the others and sit back down in your usual spot at the window.

“I see we missed a party,” Sam says, and Bucky smacks the side of his head in response. You don’t smile, don’t give him a witty comeback, and it breaks his heart to remember how you would always go toe to toe with him, each one-upping the other until you were both laughing and the others were groaning and throwing things to get you two to stop.

“Have a seat anywhere,” you say, ignoring the sadness in the air, and not looking in Clint’s general direction. The sudden emotions have exhausted you, adrenaline fading away and leaving you with that tired and hollow feeling you’ve had since Clint returned alone.

The three sit down, and begin talking about what they’ve been up to since you’d last seen them. You have, of course, heard all of this from Steve’s weekly visits, but you let them talk, try and remember how it felt to be part of the world, to engage with them and their lives, to care about any of the trivial day-to-day worries. It gives you a headache.

After about thirty minutes you excuse yourself, leaving them in the living room and trudging back towards your dark bedroom. They watch you leave, making your way down the empty hallway that always feels so much bigger now. You settle yourself into bed and practice saying your dead wife’s name into the darkness.

                                                                           ~~

Back in the other room, the four men sit around the coffee table and discuss your appearance. 

“She was standing when we got here, and it looked like she was listening when we told her about stuff,” Sam says, ever the optimist.

“She only lasted half an hour, last time we came she stayed for a whole hour.” Bucky cuts in, the two glaring at each other a bit.

“Well, she was with Clint for a while,” Steve interjects, playing the peacemaker. At this they all look at Clint.

He explains what he told you, and then everyone winces as he explains the aftermath of that conversation, and why you’d been upright when they arrived. 

“Well we’ve got to do something, she looks terrible, and we all promised Nat that we’d look out for her if anything ever happened.” Sam sounds determined, but there is a tiredness in his voice that he cannot mask, not anymore.

“That’s why I’m hoping she’ll let Yelena come visit, it might do them both some good.” 

“Well, we have to do something, I visit every week but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.” Steve looks defeated too, “maybe Nat’s sister will be enough to drag her out of her grief. Pepper at least had Morgan to focus on, maybe this will be similar.”

Everyone nods and then they stand, making their way to the elevator and going down to Steve’s floor for the rest of their visit. The sadness and grief clings to every room and every object in your home, and they all breathe in relief when the elevator doors close and cut them off from the despair that hangs in the air.

You can tell when they’re gone, and you settle back into the silence and desolation of your empty home.

                                                                           ~~

Weeks pass and you forget about Clint’s insistence that you meet Yelena and talk to her. Really, you’ve forgotten by the next day, but you’ve managed to push away the memory of Clint’s entire visit by this point. 

You’re lost in thought, eyes glazed over as you face the window, and so you don’t even register the sound of the elevator, you don’t hear the door open, but something shifts in the air and you jerk out of your stupor. 

A woman, and it can only be Yelena, your brain supplies in a moment of startling lucidity, stands in the middle of the room. She’s facing you and though she’s wearing stylish civilian clothes, the way she’s standing reminds you of the first time you saw Natasha in her Black Widow outfit as she returned from a mission. The same posture and alert eyes, the air of authority and strength. 

You can’t breathe.

Her eyes move from your face, down to your hands where you’re unthinkingly twisting your wedding ring around and around, a nervous habit you’d had since it landed on your finger all those years ago. 

She swallows heavily. 

“Yelena, hi. I didn’t know you would be…visiting, today.” You force your lips up, a ghostly version of a smile, and the best you can conjure up right now.

She moves further into the room, “Barton said to come by whenever, and Steve said that this is when he usually comes to visit, so you’d probably be in here.” Instead of in bed crying, is what he’d meant. 

“Yes, well. You’re welcome here anytime of course.” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out what to say to this stranger who you feel such a connection to, thanks to Natasha. “I’m not sure we decorated the room to your standards, though.” She looks around confused, and you’re surprised to feel a real smile tug at your lips. 

“Not this one,” you say as you stand carefully, “your bedroom.” And she follows you silently, your heart aching at that, through the hall, past your bedroom to the one at the end of the hall.

You stand and gesture towards the door, “go ahead, we spent hours decorating and arguing over everything. We wanted it to be comfortable but also stylish.” She opens the door slowly and you take this moment of privacy to wipe away the tears that have formed at the memories of you and Natasha, curled up on the couch and arguing over different bed frames, remembering how you’d picked out paint samples, finding the most ridiculous shades to make the other laugh, the carpet that had been delayed– 

Yelena makes a noise that thankfully cuts off your thoughts, and you sniff a bit, entering the room to see her looking around, tears in her eyes as well.

“This is for me?” She asks, sounding so small and desolate that you have the urge to gather her into your arms.

“Of course, sweetheart.” You say gently, continuing after a pause, “she was hoping that you would come visit, maybe even stay with us a while, and we wanted you to have your own space, to feel at home with us.”

Yelena turns around once more, taking it all in again, and this time when she turns back to you, you open your arms and step forward, though you allow her the space to come to you, not wanting to push her boundaries. Natasha had taken quite some time to be comfortable expressing emotions with you, but you’re hoping Yelena will be more receptive; nothing, after all, bonds like shared grief. She stands still for a moment, and then she’s wrapped herself around you, sobbing into your neck, and then you’re crying as well. The two of you eventually sink to the ground, grief bringing you to your knees, though you are both comforted by the other’s presence. 

Your tears dry up first; you’ve cried so much that you’re constantly surprised there’s anything left at all. You rub Yelena’s back as her own sobs quiet down, and soon she lifts her head, looking around again in wonder. You follow her gaze as it lands on various objects throughout the room, watch as she catalogs information the way your wife did, thoughts traveling too fast for you as usual, though you’re happy to wait for her to share them. 

Eventually she does, starting with a statement presented as a question.

“You haven’t moved anything, but you come in here, keep it clean?”

“Yes.” You wait.

“Why?” She turns and faces you, searching your eyes for something.

You shrug at her intent gaze, “it’s your room and she wanted you to see it this way.”

“I didn’t even know about it.” It’s somewhat accusing, and you wince a bit. “I just mean, she never told me.” Her voice is a bit softer, but the hurt in it is unmistakable. 

“She wanted to, but she was waiting for it to be perfect. And then you were…” you trail off, knowing from Clint that Natasha’s suspicions were correct, Yelena had been snapped.

“I was gone,” she finishes for you, understanding your hesitance, “and then, yes. Everything.” It goes unspoken, the thought that by the time Yelena was back, her sister was gone, dead and broken on a random planet thousands of miles from the people she loved, the world she died to save.

You stand after another few minutes and excuse yourself, leaving her to sit in her room, hoping that she can feel the love that Natasha poured into every choice she made for that room.

                                                                           ~~

“Barton says that he doesn’t usually come here, that the two of you don’t see each other.” An hour later Yelena greets you with this, walking in and settling down on the couch.

“Yes.” You don't know what else to say, how to explain your feelings regarding this man that Natasha loved like a brother, who watched as she fell to her death for him, instead of him. Leaving him, and her sister, and you to piece together a life for yourselves without her in it. You hate them both for it, and miss them even more. 

“Would you have been upset if I killed him?”

“She would’ve been furious.” Your lips quirk a bit, but Yelena shakes her head.

“That is not what I asked you.” And she waits for you to answer her, refusing to drop it.

“I don’t know what I would’ve felt. But it doesn’t really matter, does it?” you ask, shaking your head slightly. “Neither one of us is going to hurt him because she loved him and made her own choice, and would be pissed if we did.”

Yelena hums thoughtfully as she considers your words, as she considers you. She’d sat in that room, her room, and thought about what she’d been told of you. Natasha had mentioned you during their time together on the hunt for Dreykov, had droned on and on about you and Clint until Yelena wanted to knock her unconscious, jealousy and curiosity warring in her mind at the thought of these two important people that her sister so clearly loved. 

Natasha had described you as vibrant and wickedly smart, someone who could keep her on her toes and made her feel more loved and safe than she’d ever felt before. Looking at you now, Yelena sees an empty husk, your eyes are lifeless, only a brief flicker whenever you talk or think about Natasha. Clint had sounded almost as devastated about you as he had about Natasha, as though you were dead for him as well; you kind of are, she thinks. Between your emptiness and refusal to see him, he’d lost the only other connection to his best friend. She tries to feel pity for him but comes up short.

She stands and walks over towards the kitchen, begins poking around, and after a minute you look over at her, a muted expression of curiosity on your face. 

“I’m making some food, I’m hungry and you need to eat.” You don't say anything, just nod, and she hums softly to herself as she moves around the kitchen.

You sit and watch her for a moment, and then turn away when her clean and precise movements remind you too much of your missing wife. You doze a bit, lulled by the sounds and smells she’s making, the entire place feeling more alive than it has in a long time. It’s both unsettling and comforting. 

Once she’s done, the two of you eat in a silence that feels somewhat comfortable, and then you retire to your respective bedrooms, neither of you saying anything about Yelena staying the night.

                                                                           ~~

When Steve asks FRIDAY what time Yelena left, and he hears that she’s still there, he smiles to himself, and feels something like hope stirring inside his heart.

He texts Clint.

                                                                           ~~

Yelena leaves the next afternoon, but she starts coming by regularly between her various jobs. It helps both of you.

                                                                           ~~

[sscieloz]

A little help

Aeri Uchinaga x aespa5thmember! reader

Synopsis: You’ve been stressed from your group’s tour: so many shows and planes have been tiring you off. Thankfully you have an special bandmate to help you with that.

Giselle helps you use Ning’s vibrator.

Warnings: smut, dirty talk ?, gets kinda rough ?, mentions of blood — reader is a virgin, nsfw. dom!giselle x sub!reader.

Word count: 3.2k

Notes: I MIGHT (like 85% might) rewrite this bc I fucking hated it. It’s too repetitive, I think. But I wanted to post it anyway so enjoy I guess xx. Not checking for any errors tho ˆˆ muah. I’ll try to improve for next time!! write something new, perhaps. We’ll see.

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

-

“Ning let me have it.” You display the sparkly green vibrator in front of Giselle, showing off the horrible thing to her as if it were your most prized possession. “She said she doesn’t need it anymore now that she has her girlfriend’s long ass fingers.”

Giselle dropped her phone, finally giving you the attention you wanted.

“She did not say that.” She snatched the toy out of your hands, and you let yourself fall in her bed, scoffing.

“Ok, she didn’t say that, exactly, but she did let me keep it.” You looked at her with sparkly eyes, giggling with excitement. “Will you help me try it? The shows are killing me, and I’ve been dying to use it the whole week.”

Giselle stopped staring at the thing with disgust, looking at you instead. “Why didn’t you?” She asked, curiously.

“Why didn’t I what?” You frowned at her question, too busy with your phone: Karina was asking if you wanted to go swimming later. The Uchinaga grabbed your phone, throwing it away to the other side of her big bed. “Hey!” You protested, shooting her a hard glance.

“Why didn’t you use it, then, if you were dying to all week?” She repeated herself, already feeling her core heatening up. Specially when you refused to look at her in the eyes, shrugging weakly.

“Because you know best.” You answered shyly, remembering her words from the dorm, on the other day. “Right?”

Giselle’s eyes darkened, and she stood her hand for you to take, guiding you to the middle of the bed. She smirked, perhaps a bit too wickedly, caressing your long hair until her fingers ran out of length.

“Right, of course.”

-

You caught yourself looking at her eagerly, hands on your sides to see what she’d do, following her lead towards the center of the bed.

Sure, you could be in your room, pleasuring yourself, but you’ve tried to — too many times, and none of them felt as good as the pleasure you’ve had with Giselle’s fingers. Also, you two were friends, right? And it was just sex, as she’d said it before. Nothing changed between you after that day at the dorm, so surely nothing would change now. You just needed a little help.

She was still only staring at you, which made you look away, feeling your face start to get red.

“Aren’t you going to do anything?” You mumbled, impatient and embarrassed to have her focus solemn on you.

“You need to undress first, Yn.” She said, giggling. You pouted, knowing you were still too shy to do it, but she cut you off before you could whine. “Don’t you want me to help? I can’t do it if you’re still so full of layers.” Giselle gestured to your clothes. Seeing how you still made no move to take them off, she got closer, tapping the hems of your top. “Come on, Yn. We’ve been past this. You have a beautiful body, ok? Stunning, even. And I want to see you.”

Her words helped you gain a little more confidence, and you really wanted to get yourself off, so you quickly removed your top and your shorts, panties following with much more ease than last time. Your bandmate’s hands went straight to your breasts, pinching your nipples slightly as she checked for your reaction, grinning when she was met with the sound of your moans.

“N-no teasing.” You told her as Giselle’s mouth went straight to one of your breasts, her other hand massaging the neglected one with a squeeze.

“But your tits are so pretty, Yn.” She praised, mouth leaving your chest with a trail of saliva in her mouth. She cleaned it off, reveling herself with how hungry you looked at her eyes.

Giselle had waited, eagerly, for you to come back to her, not wanting to make things awkward or to have you uncomfortable in the slightest. You were friends and bandmates, most importantly, and she wouldn’t trade that for any sex in the world.

So when you showed up with that horrid green thing in your hands, Giselle already knew she’d have a handful, having to remind herself to take things slow; you were still too naive, and she’d teach you just right, without rushing anything.

But fuck her if you staring at her with your big, doe eyes full of lust didn’t nearly make her lose it all and straight up fuck you until you were crying and begging for her to stop.

You pushed yourself further to face her front, so close you could feel her breathing, too. It was fast, erratic, and it made you smile to know you riled her up as much as she did to you. Your fingers caressed her arms, pleading with your sweetest voice. “I want to see you too, Unnie. Pretty please? You didn’t let me last time.” You reminded her, making Giselle laugh and distance herself to take her clothes off, this time.

“Your reward for asking so sweetly, then.” She said, winking at you as you took her in. She was beautiful, almost alluringly so, and it made you salivate at the thought of making her shudder, too. However, you knew she wouldn’t allow that to happen now, so you let yourself be pulled back to the big pillows of the bed as Giselle reached for the green toy, pressing it on the lowest mode.

You can’t seem to take your eyes off her as she spat onto her hand, bringing it to your pussy as her saliva is spread in your slit, humming in delight as it mixes it with your growing wetness. It makes you moan loudly, reaching for her to get a glimpse of her touch, her skin—anything. She was still focused, though, toying with you as she grins.

“So soaked already, baby? But we’ve barely started playing.” You mumbled something entirely incoherent, closing your eyes as you felt her fingers teasing in, two of them circling you up and down. She rubbed a few circles on your clit before entering sloppily, the sounds of it echoing through the room with your moans.

You felt a light tug on your hair, but Giselle’s mouth was soon all over your collarbone. Before you could even complain, she was sucking and marking your skin, your moans escalating with each passing moment. As much as you love to have her mouth on you— and God, you love it so much, you need more, and it doesn’t take much to make you into a pleading mess. You mutter pleases and mores until the words from your mouth make no sense to your brain anymore: all you can think is how hot your skin feels, and how slow Giselle’s fingers are working on you.

“Do you need something else, pup?” The older girl asks, looking at you greedily as you whine.

Of course, Giselle knows exactly what you want, what you need. You reached out to her asking for it, after all. Yet, she will still make you beg.

Her nose brushes your ear as she takes her fingers out of you completely now, making her busy with spreading your wetness all over your abdomen. “You look… restless. If you want something, you just have to say it, you know? I promise I’ll give it to you.”

She’s mean, and you so desperately want to smack that sneaky grin out of her face. However, her humid fingers are pinching your nipples, and the curses slip from your thoughts. Your mind is clouded by the urge of surrendering to her, so she’ll give what you so desperately want as fast as possible.

“I w-want.” You try to say, but she’s sucking on your sensitive breasts once again, already so sensitive from her teasing before and— “Oh, fuck! Please…”

“I do need more than just pleases, though.” Her strong hands squeezed your boobs, making you let out a low growl. It was painful, but how come it felt so good? You couldn’t master the feeling. “Say it, and it’s yours. What do you want, Yn?” She indulged, loving to see your reactions.

You were too spoiled for your own good. Being the maknae had its privileges, you’d say. The girls— all of them, often showered you with praises and presents, taking extra care to do whatever you asked them to. Wether it was to fetch some water later at night because you hated to get through the dark hallway of the dorm to go to the kitchen; or changing a step in the new choreography because you felt too silly doing it, and it made you uncomfortable; they’d spoil you rotten: you’d never have to say the same thing twice. Just think about it, and it was done for you.

Naturally, Giselle making you beg made you restless. It made you hate yourself, too, with how wet you got from her making you do it— humiliate yourself for her. How much you loved to be completely at her mercy.

“I want the, f-fuck. You to fuck me with the vibrator. Now.” She lifted an eyebrow at your impatient tone, but you held her gaze with defiance.

“Forgetting our manners, are we?” Giselle asked, gripping your chin as she muttered against your breath. “Do I have to let you do it yourself, then? If you’re so sure of it?”

“No!” You pleaded, all the confidence gone from your tone as you held her, to keep her from going away. “Please, please fuck me, unnie. You know it feels better when you do it.” The older girl laughs as you try to use all your strength to pull her in. “I can take it, I swear. I’ve been p-practicing.”

Giselle’s eyes went dark again, and she cocked her head at you.

“What do you mean by practicing?” She was no longer touching you now. It was almost painful to not have her on you, and you already missed the sensation of your skin on fire, all red, bruised and filled with her saliva. “Have you been touching yourself without me, Yn?” Her tone was harsh, and it made you recoil a bit at her coldness, stuttering as you whispered.

“Maybe?” Her touch was back, thankfully, though slightly different from before. It was decisive, intense—almost rasp, the way her hands squeezed your hips, your thighs, your arms, no longer caring about not leaving marks or scratches on your tanned skin. You were sure there was a big pool of wetness on the sheets, and she hadn’t even used the damn toy on you yet.

God, she was so hot like this, handling you the way she wanted to.

“We will have none of that, baby.” She announced, suckling— no, biting on your neck harshly before retreating to grab the vibrator. “I’m just going to have to teach you the hard way, then.”

It certainly shouldn’t arouse you that much.

-

You watched eagerly as Giselle positioned the vibrator against your cunt, biting her lip at the sight of you: hair clinging onto your back, skin marked in bruises, with your beautiful chest moving up and down fast from excitement.

“I still don’t think you can take it, though.” She told you as she entered the tip of the toy on your slit. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make you wince at the discomfort.

You did want this, though. You wanted more.

“I want this. Please.” You reminded her, trying to push yourself, so it’d reach deeper. Giselle immediately gripped your hips, stopping you from moving. “I can take it, I promise.”

She compelled to your wishes, positioning herself a bit higher so she could start thrusting on you. It did hurt, and you winced. She went slow at first, kissing your neck as her muttered praises against your skin, nibbling her teeth through the skin.

“Don’t tense, baby. Just take deep breaths for me, okay?” She asked as you nodded, slowly soaking in with each thrust. She kept the toy a little deeper with each passing time, and soon your groans were replaced with moans of pleasure. It still burned, but the combo of her soothing your skin and the repeated movements made you cry for more.

“More, please.” You said, bucking your hips, so she’d speed her rhythm. When Giselle didn’t, you grabbed her wrist, forcing the vibrator against your cunt, hoping it’d reach deeper. Your erratic movements, however, made her nails immediately dig into your thighs.

Shortly, she switched back, her other hand brushing your neck teasingly as she opened a dangerous smirk.

“Do you want to do this on your own? Since you’re so eager to take the lead yourself.” Your bandmate asked, her cocky tone matching the way she looked down on you. It wasn’t a sight you were used to, being taller than her and constantly towering over the older girl, but it aroused you just the same.

You simply denied, being slapped on your thighs in response. “Words, Yn.”

“N-no.”

“No, what?”

“I want you to d-do it for me.” you placed wet kisses on her neck, a whiny mess. “Please, Unnie. Please make me cum.”

And just like that, the green piece was positioned on your slit again, making you shudder.

Giselle thrusted the toy all the way in, making you scream as you gasped for air. Her eyes were trained on your pussy, adjusting herself, so she’d give your clit attention, too. It was too fast for you, with the pleasure building up in quick waves down your abdomen.

“Wait! It’s too mu-“ You tried to say, but Giselle locked her lips on yours with hunger. She licked your lips sloppily, not once motioning to listen to your pleadings.

“Wait for what?” she mocked your tone, wasting no time pushing the dildo all the way in. “You said you could take it, right? That you were ready?” her pupils were blown, and she had a wicked grin on her face—if you weren’t so focused on getting your breath and adjusting to the pain of being stretched, you’d notice how much she was enjoying herself. God, she loved to have this power over you. Of how you were so quick to beg, completely on her mercy, ready to do whenever she wanted you to. “So take it.”

Giselle kept marking you, alternating between kissing your lips and leaving hickeys on your neck— like you weren’t on tour and wearing such revealing outfits lately. “You should see yourself like this, Yn.” She murmured as her fingers circled your clit roughly, applying trained pressure and making you feel sure you’d go crazy at any given moment. You rolled your eyes, drunk with all the different sensations. “So pretty, doing so good.” The praise grounded you, making you hum as you clung onto her, lifting your back from the cushions, so you’d be even closer.

You felt the pleasure completely overcome you, making you scratch Giselle’s back without thinking about being gentle, either.

“I’m going to c-cum.” You announced, hoping she wouldn’t try to make you wait. You wouldn’t be able to, since your orgasm quickly overcame you, along with the strange sensation of having to pee straight away. It didn’t help that your bandmate hadn’t stopped thrusting, either. If only, she’d resumed her movements to slow thrusts, making sure to twist and play with the green toy however she saw fit.

“Beautiful.” It was the only thing she said, and it was making you crazy that she wouldn’t stop. With her eyes trained on your body, she saw the way your abdomen was still fast in its movements, trying to match your heavy breathing.

You mumbled, scooping her as you felt Giselle take the toy away from your pussy to place herself next to you. She knew how needy you got after you came, so the girl quickly gathered you in her arms as she kissed your hair, murmuring praises and sweet things to you.

“M’ tired.” You told her, even though you knew you had to get yourself cleaned up.

“I know, baby. I’ll help you, though. You won’t have to do much.” She grabbed a great piece of your hair— which was drenched in sweat, moving it away from your sweaty body.

Her words made you giggle. You specially liked when she took care of you, even more in moments like these, although it still made you reluctant to accept her help. “I can do it by myself, Unnie. It’s ok.” You assured her, staring at her adorable pout.

It amused you how quickly she would switch on those situations.

“Of course you can.” Giselle blushed, suddenly shy. Her tone was hesitant as she continued, her fingers lightly tracing your collarbone, still all red and coated with her dry saliva. “It doesn’t mean you should, though. You’re tired, and probably very sore. Let me, please? I can even give you that massage you’ve been whining so much to get.” She offered, and you took a moment to think about it.

It wasn’t the wisest decision, to be this close after such an intimate moment, specially when the two of you had a silent agreement to make it just about sex. About pleasure.

But you were tired, sore, and needy, so you allowed yourself to be held by Giselle as she took you to the bathtub, washing you up and changing the messy, bloodied sheets before you nested yourself on her million cushions.

“Just this once.” You told her, crawling towards the middle of her bed with wet hair and one of her silk pajamas — the ones you loved and Giselle always hid, so you wouldn’t steal from her.

The message was clear: no attachments, just friendship and sex. It was as simple as daylight.

As if any of you could have a clear idea over whatever your silent agreement was.

Giselle nodded, cuddling you as she turned the tv on, scrolling over Netflix for the drama she had been watching lately.

“Sure.” She said, although her tone bore a bit of mockery as she watched you besides her, eyes closed and a peaceful look on your face, as if you hadn’t gotten railed like crazy earlier. “Just this once.” She repeated herself, in a low tone.

You slept soundly for the first time in days.

-

“I messaged Karina, by the way.” You heard her say, moments before you drifted off. “Told her you weren’t feeling so good, so you’d skip the pool.”

You scoffed, mumbling with closed eyes.

“I wanted to go swimming, though.” You felt Giselle poke your ribs, and you tried your best not to laugh, pretending you were mad at her. “Kill joy.”

“I should just let her knock on your door, then, since you always close it properly.” She teased, making you flutter your eyes open, embarrassed.

“You wouldn’t!”

She laughed soundly, loving to mock you. “Oh, Y/n. I would.”

[moseslikellamas]

♱𖣂 Redfork Menace ♱𖣂 pt.2

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!OC

Summary - Following the shock of a lifetime while out scouting the borderlands, Shanda deals with the fallout of her actions and makes plans to repeat the same mistakes.

Warnings - fem!reader, strained family dynamics, adult language, obsessive behavior, reckless behavior, braindead behavior, not cannon compliant, kieran burton fancast,

Word count 2.1k

2/6 currently

!Minors DNI!

Ahaha, this is going to be a pretty slow burn type of deal I think. But I am unhinged and cranked out another one before work 😤👍🏻🗣️ Next chapter will be more exciting, I promise. Also everyone involved in any romance is of age of course bc I don’t care about canon and no child marriages here.

Shanda didn’t stop running until she was back home in her own chambers. Shutting her door quietly, she stripped her soaked clothes off. The cloak would have to be mended and she would have to convince Royce, her younger brother, to take her out riding to cover for the rip. That would cost her but it was better than the alternative. Shivering, she quickly dressed for sleep before adding more logs to the dying fire in her harth, then seated herself in front of the flames. Only then did she allow her mind to wander back to the horrible encounter she’d just experienced. Why was the Blackwood heir on guard duty in the borderlands? It didn’t make any sense even if he had spoken the truth earlier. She moved like a shadow but no woman can be invisible. To send Benjicot to deal with a once off rogue spy was a move that was so strange it made her head spin.

Tomorrow she would talk to Martyn first, tell him mostly the truth of what happened and then convince him to let her out again. She had a good start on information for swaying her father but it wasn’t enough. If she went with tales of the heir and half heard secrets, he’d lose his mind at her irresponsibility. But if she found out what the heir was up to and confirmed what real problem the Blackwoods were having, well then he might see reason. He might for once appreciate having a slippery sneaking daughter who doesn’t know how to mind her own business.

Shanda awoke with a start, nearly toppling herself from the chair she’d fallen asleep in. No light shone in from the windows, her room was damp and muggy. Her night clothes stuck to her in an uncomfortable manner, sweat beaded on her brow as she rose to wash and dress for the day. The riverlands were often damp, hot and moist, the air thick with water. Gazing out the window she saw the torches lit and in the distance gathering clouds like a bruise against the gray sky.

Leaving her room, Shanda slowly made her way downstairs. She stopped along the way to make a comment to anyone passing by, making a point to be seen by many and accounted for undoubtedly. Then without pausing in the main hall, headed straight out into the yard to find Martyn. The guard shift was up at first light and though there was no light outside, she guessed it had only been a few minutes since the shift changed.

Martyn was waiting for her outside of the barracks and he motioned for her to walk with him. They began to circle around the yard, walking quietly and slowly together. Her brother was a short man barely an inch taller than her but he had eyes like a hawk and could shoot a field mouse clean nearly a mile away. Which was why he was always stuck on guard duty.

“Well out with it. I’ve gotta have a sleep too, you know?”

Shanda hesitated. What exactly was she going to tell him? ‘Hey so I got into a knockdown fight with the Blackwood heir last night who threatened to arrest me by the way for a made up list of crimes’. Well mostly made up crimes. That didn’t sound like a good idea.

Martyn spoke in her silence, “Did you bring the knife back?”

Shanda inhaled sharply, grimacing.

“About that, I maybe sort of-“

He cut her off, “Shanda please tell me you didn’t leave it.”

“I didn’t leave it per say. It was jostled from my hands, let's say instead.”

The look Martyn gave her was incredulous to the point of absurdity and it took all of her willpower not to laugh.

“Okay listen. Last night I found out the Blackwood heir has been relegated to guard duty. Overheard an argument between him and another guard.” She glanced around before continuing, the yard was still mostly deserted. “They were arguing about crimes being committed on their lands. I don’t know what crimes but it didn’t sound like they were too happy about it.”

“Benjicot was on guard duty? Wait, and you said the knife was… Did you fight the heir to Raventree?”

Shanda pointedly avoided looking her brother in the eye, a bit embarrassed of her behavior in the light of day.

“To be fair, I didn’t know it was Benjicot. I thought it was just some nameless guard!” She hissed agitated at having been caught in such a situation.

“Shanda, do you have any sense? The mother save you, I certainly can’t! If father were to find out...”

He didn’t have to finish that sentence. Shanda had been walking on thin ice lately. But it wasn’t her fault her father had no vision for house Bracken. She didn’t want to play second fiddle to the Blackwoods for the rest of her life. But he was set in his ways at his age and that meant ‘no sneaking into the borderlands to spy on our sworn rivals’. A foolish and dangerous act that she just couldn’t abide. Hence the sneaking tomfoolery.

“Look I need to get the knife back and I need to figure out what they’re up to. Surely this is suspicious behavior!”

Martyn only shook his head looking thoughtful.

“He could just be doing rounds.”

“In the borderlands? You don’t see our father wasting you there, why would they?”

Sighing heavily he replied, “I don’t know dear sister and I’m too tired to care. Don’t do anything stupid and I’ll see about getting you out again.”

Despite her best efforts her face still lit up at his proclamation.

“No promises. Now go away and annoy someone else for a change huh?”

“Sure thing Martyn. Sleep well!”

Waving him off, she waited til Martyn was out of sight before booking it to the stables. It was time to convince Royce now. A much harder brother to move. Royce was three years younger than her and though seventeen, still incredibly immature. Which was why he was in the stables and wifeless. Not that she had a better track record when it came to potential suitors but she could sympathize with women not wanting to spend a significant amount of time around him.

Entering the stables, Shanda could smell the fresh hay that was being spread out. Reminding her of her own duties she was neglecting while outside brother negotiating. The tasks would hold, this could not.

“Royce? Are you here?”

“No, go away.”

Groaning and already regretting the decision to talk to him, she made her way back towards the corral.

“Wonderful to see you brother.”

“As wonderful as an arrow in the eye. What do you want?”

Royce sat on a barrel, cutting an apple open and eating slices from the blade. In the distance, sounds of horses whinnying could be heard. Shanda decided to cut the pleasantries and get to the point.

“I want you to take me riding. Name your price.”

He smirked, weighing the statement while continuing to eat the apple. Mouth half full he said, “Get me out of the Sept gathering.”

She stood there mouth half agape. Get him out of the mourning ceremony? Genuinely speechless, she just stared at him for a full moment before shaking her head and gathering her thoughts.

“Right. That isn’t for a fortnight though and I need to go riding soon.”

He shrugged.

“Ugh. What else do you want?It’s already going to take a miracle to get you out of the ceremony. Which you should go to. ” She pinched the skin in between her eyes, exasperated.

“Well you shouldn’t sneak out at night but then neither of us is exactly the picture of a perfect person.”

That made her look up. “How did you..? Nevermind, mind your own business Royce. Figure out your price, we ride today. I don’t care if it storms, all the better. I’ll be back after dusk.”

Not bothering to hear his reply she left in a huff. Crossing the yard swiftly she made her way back inside, heading up the stairs into the library tower. Arriving in the room, the familiar sight of rows and rows of shelves met her eyes. Shanda takes the first real deep breath she’s had since yesterday as she sits at her desk. Already two messages have arrived, one about the recent steel shipment that she files away for a conversation with her father. The other is a letter from another of her brothers, Gerald who was currently doing bridge repairs.

Neither captures her attention and soon she finds herself in front of the window gazing out. Not at the yard below but at the trees in the distance. The leaves shimmer and twist in the blowing breeze, almost as if dancing to a hypnotic rhythm. What is the heir doing in the borderlands? The tall grass looks dark and forbidding, jutting up in front of the keep, weaving and swaying back and forth. How long has he been on guard duty? The clouds now a deep rolling luster of plum, illuminate as lightning strikes down the sky. Silently and slowly the rain begins to fall resolute. Would they put him on guard two nights in a row?

The first slow roll of thunder startles her back into the present moment. It didn’t matter, she decided, if he was on guard or not. She had to go back tonight, without Martyn. She’d wait longer, spend the day leisurely and then steal out in the dead of night. It was, of course, a foolish plan. That didn’t matter though, she’d be more prepared tonight and have a solid alibi lined up. It would be more foolish to waste this golden opportunity. All she had to do was make it through dinner, ride out with Royce, avoid martin and then sneak out of the yard tonight. After that she hoped only to find her knife and continue reconnaissance from a safe distance. Easy peasy right?

It was not so. The gods must truly find the riverlanders to be the most accursed of all beings. As the day progressed the storm grew to such a height it would’ve been impossible to ride out in it. It built much like it had the night before, growing to a cloying suffocating state that drenched any and everything. But it had given her an excuse to pull the ripped cloak out and wear it outside as she raced to meet Royce in the stables. Unable to ride didn’t mean he was unable to assist her in this endeavor. All she needed was a warm body and a viable excuse for why her very nice cloak had a nasty gash through the side.

The storm raged against the stables and the horses were restless in their stalls. Royce was sitting, relatively dry she noted, on a stack of hay.

“No riding out in this, sister.”

Shanda smiled, nodding. “I agree.” Then she grabbed a horse shoeing tool off the table and ripped at the already torn cloak.

Satisfied it looked like she’d clumsily tripped into a workbench and once stuck had ripped herself free of it. It was believable enough and she’d already made a deal with Royce for his support should she be questioned too much about it.

“No worries brother. We spent the evening playing games and watching the storm clouds. After which I tripped and ripped my cloak. Very sad and wholly unavoidable.”

“Whatever. Just get me out of the ceremony.”

“Of course. Anyway, I’m going to my room now.”

Departing from the stables, she was immediately soaked through but she did not return to her chambers or even the main keep. Instead she made her way into their private sept. It was freezing and the dim light threw wild shadows against the white stone walls. Only a few small candles lent any light to the room but she was unafraid, striding in and standing before the one stained glass window they owned. On it was a rainstorm depicted and in the dim flickering light the window shone iridescent. The window also depicted a large tree, white with branches ever reaching up. She felt small in the shadow of it.

“Can I help you dear?”

The scratchy voice of old septa Beck made her jump. Her head was in knots today. Why had she come here again? She couldn’t remember. Did she even have a reason? She glanced back at the window, forgetting about the septa. Lightning flashed and the leaves on the window seemed to weep red in the light.

“No. No thanks, Septa Beck. I was just saying a quick prayer before bed.” Shanda smiled gently at her before casting the window one last look and leaving the sept. From there she did return to her chambers, it was time to prepare and plan

Pt.3

[natbelovasblog]

Stalker.

PAIRINGS: AOS!Natasha Romanoff x CCTV!Fem Reader.

SUMMARY: While your Coworkers relish in their lunch breaks-you take to watching the security cameras. But while watching over live footage you see something, or rather someone, in the corner of the camera. Who are they and why are they here?

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood, Budapest references??, and a slightly agitated Katness Barton.

A/N: I had gotten this idea from a day dream, and decided to write it out at 2:30/3am. :). It was going to be a series.. but I’m too inconsistent for that.. so.. if anyone wants to actually write a whole or short series on it, be my guest, but tag me bc I wanna read it!

I had visions of it being like flirty nat, and playing hard to get reader, so nat keeps stalking and popping up everywhere trying to get her to go on a date with her, then she finally does so nat will leave her alone and the rest is history.

… anyways. Hope you enjoy. AOS means agents of SHEILD.

“I’ve got eyes on the target” A slight Russian accent was heard through the comms.

“You act like we’re in a movie” The archer spoke up.

“Shut up Barton, I’m doing my job” Natasha vocalized her annoyance. She’d only been with the man for 7 days, but even with it being that short, he was still a pain in her ass.

“We’ve got movement! I’m going in. Cover me.” The spy was already gone before Barton could even speak.

“Nat, you can’t just run off like that! There’s a woman in there. Who knows how many more. We should’ve sat back and waited longer!” Clint had told her, climbing higher up the tree to get a good look in the building.

“Oh please, they don’t even know they’ve got a weaponized system in the building! There’s probably only 3 security guards and I’m sure they would’ve already seen us with how slow you walk. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the concern.” The red head rolled her eyes. Knocking on the door before taking down 2 security guards with her widow bites, after they’d basically invited her in.

“2 down, 1 too go” She spoke just before halting her steps. Peeking into the door on her right.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Clint’s voice appeared in her ear. Wondering why the recently departed widow had stopped

“Another one…A woman.” She paused. “Do you think she knows about the weapons?” She continued.

“Well it’s not like you can walk in there and talk to her about it, I’d say no. Take her out and let’s get this done, I have a dinner party to get too.” The archer replied. He had climbed down from the tree and slowly walked his way towards the 2 big double doors.

-

Your head snapped towards the cameras when you heard the alarm go off. Checking each one of them to see nothing but a glimpse of red hair and an arrow.

Sprinting down the hall, you’d reached the break room, opening the doors to see if one of your coworkers had set the alarm off. Only to find them all on the floor and one of them bleeding throughout their nose.

Quickly dialing security, you told them you needed backup.

-

“You idiot! Who doesn’t check the doors before going into a building, with a million dollar weaponized security system?!” Natasha was pissed. They’d waiting in a stupid vent for 7 days, an entire week to steal the systems hard drive. All for Clint to try and open the doors at 12am. Setting off all the alarms.

“In my defense, there was no more people to let me in since you’d knocked them all out. And I couldn’t get the other one to let me in because you were too busy drooling all over her.” Clint threw his arrows back into the vent, settling down just in time to watch the security guards rush past them.

“I wasn’t drooling over her, I just thought maybe she knew something. She didn’t even look like a security guard.” Natasha thinks back to when she’d seen you twirl around in the spinny chair.

“Oh let me guess, she looked like a princess?” The Barton man whispered.

Yeah..

Yeah, she did.

-

“I saw a flash of red hair, and then what looked like an arrow.. I don’t know if it was an arrow tho.. I mean. Who carry’s around arrows anymore?” You questioned out loud to your boss.

“The boy, Katness Everdeen from the avengers does!” Mike, a coworker had joked. Making the others laugh.

“This isn’t a time to joke. It’s serious. Someone tried to get into the building and your joking around? Are you fucking kidding me?” Your boss, Chris yelled. Making the others stop laughing.

“Come on man, clearly no one got inside the building, if they did. We’d have seen. We do have some of the best security cameras.” Mike stood up, trying to calm Chris down.

“Whatever, get back to work. See if you can find anything” Chris walked out.

“We’ve check the cameras over and over again. We didn’t see anything!” Jake, another coworker yelled out the door.

“Check again!” Chris replied.

You did feel a presence watching you.. but maybe that was just your imagination.. right? I mean Mike was right. There was absolutely nothing on the cameras. Maybe you just needed some sleep.

[madockisser]

“jude and cardan and bully x victim!”

WRONG! let me tell u why! since this cmmt makes my blood BOIL. obviously spoilers for whole trilogy!

first of all, and most importantly, you cannot call them bully x victim bc jude and cardan were not romantically involved til the last book(or the end of the 2nd if u include their marriage), and were only sexually involved in the second.

by the time they were romantically involved, meaning, a consensually formed romantic relationship, was by the end of book 2, which by then, cardan had not in fact been bullying jude.

he had not “bullied” jude at ALL during the second book. i could argue that CARDAN is the victim of jude’s bullying in the second book because she quite literally enslaved that man!(consensually ofc!)

i agree that cardan treated jude poorly in the first book, but he consistently went out of his way to ensure her safety all the while his “friends” actively humiliated and attacked her.

ex: he freed her from her faerie fruit glamour so locke wouldn’t go anywhere with her while she was under the influence, he kicked valerian off of jude while he was trying to kill her, he sent her a coronation dress so that taryn and locke wouldn’t further humiliate her when they announced their engagement, he also sent that dress to protect her from faeries that may be unaware of her social status and try to hurt her, he warned locke against persusing her, he ensured she didn’t drown when his dumb friends tried to drown her. and that’s just the first book.

yes, i agree, cardan put her in shitty spots, but holly black herself said that cardan was “all talk” and he only acts this way so she can finally leave his mind and he can stop having feelings for her. i don’t recall the exact quote but it was in htkoelths, “every night jude haunted him, an absent bite of her lip…”

when they kiss in the first book, that is jude, HUMILIATING him back. “u rly do want me and u hate it” no, they are not madly in love w each other at this point. no, all is not forgiven on cardans part since they’ve kissed.

she weaponizes his feelings for her so she can use him in a plot to protect her brother.

“jude falling for cardan didn’t make sense!”

idk if anyone who has said this just didn’t pay attention or what bc the ENTIREE book jude’s just thinking of cardan LOL.

“wonder what cardan would think of this”

“cardans the hottest faerie ever he’s way better looking than the rest but i hate him sm i can’t breathe” like babe u want him cmon now. oh and not to mention her literally sucking face w locke just bc she wants to get back at cardan since she knows he doesn’t like her w him. plus her kissing locke while her and cardan are having staring contests like ok delusional

“jude didn’t even get revenge!” yes. i HAVE heard this 😭.

jude killed his friend, her father killed nearly his entire family, then jude was like “oh! missed one, dad! haha!” then kills cardans brother, his abuser, but also the one he cared for the most. then again w her placing him on the throne which he desperately didn’t want, and also yknow, their year and a day vow in which she commands him to do her bidding. like ???!

“but cardan exiled jude!”

yeah! he sure did! to PROTECT her! from orlagh! u really think the queen of the undersea would let her ambassador being killed and her only chance at ruling both the sea and the land slide like that, ESPECIALLY after cardan completely put her in her place in front of all of elfhame?? like cmon people!

but he also does this to trick her. “i thought you’d admire me a bit for it.” bc jude tricks ppl. jude tricked him into sitting on the throne. so he tried to impress her by tricking her back in a way that could ensure their futures. and he’d thought she’d understand but babe was blindsided by her feelings of rejection since she likes him sm and is pissed that she for once let her emotions get the better of her. and when she didn’t come back cardan was devastated.

but, all the while knowing exactly where she is but not wanting to invade her private life and wanting her to come back willingly, he grovels like crazy!

“come home and shout at me, come home and scream at me, just come home”

jude and cardan both, against all odds, hated and desired and loved each other, lost each other, and when they were reunited again, they cleared the air and forgave each other. anyway, i could go on, but i’m still finishing my reread so!

but bully x victim my ass.

(these are holly blacks annotations(canon))

[pupyuj]

hehe i actually have...many thoughts abt a certain an yujin 🤐🤐🤐🤐🤐 her with short hair...with a hair pulling ki- [GUNSHOTS]

🪿🪿🪿

WELL YES GOOSEYYYY‼️‼️ you know exactly the kind of thoughts that would make my brain buzz 😋

eheheueuhe SO TRUEEEE yujin is obsessed with going down on you for that very reason (other than her being insanely pussy-drunk ofc) 😵‍💫 in general i think she loves having your hands in her hair? threading her locks with your fingers, braiding them, and twirling them while she's talking... she gets so weak the moment she feels your hands on her :(( patting her head while she's slobbering all over your cunt—it makes her feel so soft inside!! she just wants to eat you out even better, opening up your legs wider and sucking your clit like she hasn't before 🤭

as soon as you’re pulling and tugging on her hair, yujin’s moaning too 🥺🥺 likes it all even better when she starts fingering you at the same time bcs you’re screaming and holding onto her so hard and ykw she should be wincing at how tight your grip is on her hair and shoulders but yujin likes the pain :)) it only makes her think about how good she must be making you feel 😵‍💫 also can we adress the praise kink-sized elephant in the room bcs hello??? it’s so perfect esp for leader yujin who just wants constant reassurance.. and what better way to satisfy that need than to praise her endlessly while she’s eating you out??

knows every single weak spots of yours and abuses them to no end after every praise and every tug 😳😳 yujin tends to go overboard bcs she gets so lost in her head about you 😣 doesn’t stop even when your legs are shaking and you’re heaving for breaths bcs she knows that by the way you held onto her hair so tightly and keeping her face close against your cunt, you don’t want her to stop 😵‍💫 she’d hoist your legs on top of her shoulders, pulling your pussy impossibly closer and making you scream so loud that you have to cover up your mouth..

even the way you’d yank her hair when you’ve had enough turns her on so much 🫣🫣 ignoring your pleas for a short while just to feel your nails dig into her scalp and feel that sharp pain on her head when you pull harshly on her hair… ofc she’d stop immediately after her first resistance, not wanting to fuck you too stupid and all 🤭 and she’d spend the rest of her time lapping up your juices, smiling against your skin as you gently pat her head and praise her for being so good 😚 she’s a puppy through and through i swear—

[moodywyrm]

bookish lil crush

college au! Abby Anderson x bookworm! reader

she is occupying my every thought I want her so bad but here!!! a lil series of thoughts I had about abby bc she is so cute I wanna hold her hand. occasionally nsfw/suggestive at times so MDNI pls go away u can’t be here I'll block u 

also listened to do I make you nervous by dreamer isioma while writing this! I am also!!! so down to talk about these books and other books pls talk to me about books in my asks I love reading so so much and so does abby! or talk about college abby bc she is rotting my brain away 

wc: 1.7k im sorry idk how

Thinking so much about Abby developing the most debilitating crush on the cute girl in her class who is always early and always reading

Like one day she decides to show up to class earlier than usual, bc she usually gets there like 5min before class starts and gets stuck with weird seats or super packed aisles that had the only seat open and it really sucks

So out of spite she just starts showing up unreasonably early (1hr before class) to make sure she gets a good seat and low and behold there is no class in that room before her english class (bc I firmly believe she would do an english minor and like maybe kinesiology? I have not put too too much thought to her major but i would love to hear opinions!), so she gets her pick of the entire room!

She nestles into the third row bc it’s the perfect spot! Not too far back to be easily distracted but not immediately in front of the professor. I think she’d pick an end seat, but the ones next to the wall and not the aisle bc she knows she’s a bigger girl and she doesn’t want to make people like crawl over her to get a seat and she’s always super aware of how much space she takes up anyways

There she is! In her lil seat! An hour before class just hanging out! She’s checking her laptop and her phone and getting her note-taking situation set up and god she is so regretting not bringing like a book or something bc this is a lot of free time and it would be perfect for reading and then!!

Like fifteen minutes later you show up and she doesn’t really notice until you sit in the same row as her, a few seats down

She looks over and she is f l o o r e d bc who is this cutie??? Have you always been in her class??? How did she not know??? She thinks ur so cute in ur lil outfit, how much shorter you look compared to her, even in the seat, ur headphones in and ur music barely audible and she’s just staring at this point and oh god oh no you notice and now she wants to crawl into a hole and decay 

You, unbeknownst to her, are completely Awestruck by this absolute goddess of a woman who is suddenly sitting in your row and thank god she didn’t take Your seat that you have been sitting in since the class began and oh god ur not gonna change seats now so you have to sit next to her

So you act Natural and pull out your stuff as you usually would, including your current read!! Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo!! Very good very gay and oh my god you hope the mystery girl sees the girls on the cover and gets the hint and you hope that she also likes girls bc wowowowow!!! She’s even prettier the closer you are to her!! And she looks so strong!!! Her arms so big and now ur head is spinning bc she could probably pick you up and mandhandle you and do whatever she wanted and now ur completely off track bc she is just so pretty

And she is staring at you!! So you panic a little bit and send her a lil smile and wave and her heart damn near stops because One she got caught Two ur so fucking cute so she Composes herself and waves back and then

Just turns back to her laptop

Like a coward. Bc u are so cute and she wants to talk to u so bad so Obviously she can’t bc she can and will make a bigger fool of herself than she already did

n this makes you sad bc duh, she’s so cute u thought she was gonna say something but no :( so you just start reading ur book and u get so into it that u don’t notice that abby keeps looking over at u! And she thinks ur so cute! Bc ur so focused and there’s this lil crease between ur brows from how hard ur focusing on this book and oops now she’s trying to look at the cover without u noticing and oops now she’s typing it into her browser and would u look at that! It’s in stock at her favorite bookstore! so now she knows what she’s doing after class instead of homework!

so u two sit and u read and she watches and floats aimlessly on the internet and then class proceeds as usual and abby feels so much better in this seat! She can actually hear and see without being stuck with ppl who talk during class or are super distracting on their laptops bc ur the closest to her and ur a diligent little notetaker! truly the best idea she’s ever had good job abby :)

Immediately after class she hauls ass to the bookstore and picks up the book u were reading (and maybe two more ok she has little self control in here it’s fine her dad is a neurosurgeon) and she starts reading it that day and omg!! She loves it!!! She reads like half of it in one day and forgets to do her homework and oh shit okay she has to bust out two discussion posts before midnight and now she’s panicking but it’s fine she’s got this!

the next time she has that class, she brings the book with her to read beforehand and u show up! But with a different book :( she’s so sad she wanted to talk to u about this one but u probably already finished it! So, of course, she pulls out her phone and writes down the book ur reading now, In A Lonely Place by Dorothy B. Hughes

she is both kinda shocked that it’s so different, some old crime novel but it sounds interesting so after class she runs back to the bookstore to get it and it’s there!! She didn’t even bother to check if it was in stock but it was! obvs the universe wants yall to have this connection so ofc she buys it and starts reading it the next week bc school caught up to her and it took a second to finish the first book :(

so she’s so excited when she shows up to class that week with the book, which she hasn’t started yet! And then u show up! And omg she might cry bc u have another book again :( ur just so fast she cannot keep up but she is gonna keep trying!

another two weeks pass with another two books and by now ur starting to notice that she always seems to be reading the last book u read and u don’t know if it’s intentional but if it is that is so sexy of her and u will hold her hand about it

so u decide to test it! u slow down on ur reading speed for the next book and u intentionally pick a less popular one (???)  bc at that point what are the odds it isn’t intentional? So u show up with When the Moon Was Ours by Anna-Marie McLemore for the next three classes and sure enough! By the second class she has it and she’s reading it and so are u and ur both so excited about it!!

Abby is like ninety percent sure she’s been found out but her suspicions are confirmed when u turn to talk to her, voice low even though ur like the only people in the classroom bc class doesn’t start for another forty minutes, and u ask her how she likes it, especially compared to the rest of the books and she just turns Bright Red

She’s so cute and blushy and tripping over her sentences when she tells u she really likes it even though she just started it and by god she thinks she’s gonna melt into a puddle of pure sapphic when u giggle and smile at her and tell her ur glad!! Bc it’s one of ur favorite books!!

n y’all start talking about the books you’ve been reading and ur both so into it that u completely give up on reading before class today! Not when this absolute sweetheart of a girl is reading the book u read!! For u!! Bc abby straight up tells u she wanted to talk to u but didn’t know how so she just started reading all the books u read bc that makes sense?? I mean it worked so yeah!! Makes sense!!

u scoot into the seat right next to her, abandoning ur old seat :( but for a much better one bc omg she smells so good u wanna bite her or kiss her or sit in her lap and snuggle into her :( and abby is freaking out bc u also smell good and ur so pretty she wants to hug u and kiss u and make u cre-

Anyways eventually class starts :( which sucks so bad but ur right next to her and she maybe finds it a lil bit harder to focus but it’s fine!! She gets through it and at the end of class, she builds up the courage (tbh she wasn’t really listening to the last ten minutes bc she was so Anxious) to ask u for ur number!!! Which u give her ofc, and right before u leave u nearly make her heart pop out of her chest

As u pull on ur bag, u turn to her and say that you’ll text her to set up ur lil bookclub :( maybe you can go get coffee to talk about it :) and by god that is close enough to a date for abby that she just nods dumbly and smiles and watches as you leave, a lil smile on ur face that makes her want to pull u back and kiss u silly!!

She knows then and there that she has to make u her gf or she’ll literally wither away (ofc she succeeds!! She’s abby!!!)

Anyways yeah thinking of her debilitating crush i luv her

[unhingedsquash]

(I wrote this in the break room at work and it’s short and on a cliffhanger bc that’s what I do best, but user @eleccy u hit my exact brand of fic preference. I probably will make this a full fic on ao3 soon if I get around to it.)

-

Oh.

Oh, it seemed so obvious now that it hit him in the face.

All Klavier could think about as Apollo’s crackled voice mentioned his father over the phone, attaching an image in their text messages, was of the guitar.

The guitar Lamiroir had gifted him so graciously when he had visited Borginia. She had traced her fingers delicately at the base of the neck of the guitar until they landed on a small carving. She explained that she’d had the guitar for so long that she forgot where it came from. She didn’t play the guitar, and was struggling to learn—partially from her loss of sight, mostly from her inability to have time to herself and no one to teach her.

“Your guitar playing moved me,” she explained. “The melodies are so lovely… it almost feels familiar. I don’t know where this guitar came from, but whoever played it before… I think, must’ve played as beautifully as you. I would like you to have it.”

And, of course, with great honor, Klavier accepted. It was such a sentimental gift, he felt the need to protect it. On top of that, the guitar was such high quality and in such excellent condition, it felt like he’d won the lottery.

Alas, it was unable to be saved. The incident in the summer of 2026 ripped the precious gift from his grasp before he could even put her to safety. But he was able to save a single, singed piece, with a barely legible carving, from the base of the neck of the guitar.

Now all he could do was stare at the cased up piece of wood with J.J. carved into it sitting in his guitar display as Apollo rambled on about his days in Khura’in, while the name Jove Justice rung through his head, and the all-too-familiar guitar stared back at him in an old picture of Apollo’s father.

So many instances played through his head. From the first time she reconnected after the incident, to their semi-regular coffee get-togethers where she would make comments that started to click. Things like, “How is Apollo doing? And Trucy?” and the hesitance, then denial every time Klavier offered to deliver mail or extend a phone number. And comments about remembering her past, but the resistance to provide details.

It all started to make so much sense, and Klavier wondered… did he know?

Subtly, as Apollo continued to talk, Klavier extended a text to the singer to ask what she knew. To ask for clarification. Did she know? Did she remember?

And god, what was Klavier going to do now that she admitted she’d known everything? It felt wrong not to say anything. Especially with Apollo right there on the phone, talking in total oblivion. God, Klavier even heard him mention how “they said they couldn’t find any information on my mother. It’s too bad. I hope I can find her one day—“

“Apollo.”

God, he needed to stop. It’s not his place to be doing this. He doesn’t need to be a hero right now.

“Your mother is Lamiroir.”

It’s quiet. It’s so quiet that Klavier can hear the silence. And it’s screaming at him that he should not have done that.

“What do you mean?” Apollo’s voice broke through the phone speaker again. “Klav, that’s not funny.”

Another beat of silence. More silent screams of shame and guilt.

“Please don’t get quiet after saying that, what do you mean?!”

“The guitar. Your father’s guitar?”

“…Yeah?”

“I have what’s left of it.”

[crguang]

how do you think kafka would fall in love with her s/o? like what does she notice first and makes her want to know her future s/o more. would love to hear your thoughts

i love any excuse to yap about kafka let me think… imo to catch kafka’s attention you would have to stand out a little. she lives a very exciting life and i think she’d be attracted to bold personalities, people with a certain talent she admires, just someone who kinda stands out from the crowd in any way. that would pique her curiosity for sure, but i do think she loves boldness in general. someone who can tell her to go to hell? someone who isn’t afraid of her and who plays hard to get a little? she’d want you so bad. would go out of her way to get on your nerves because she wants your attention, and that can translate as either pissing you off by being annoying or being excessively flirty, suggestive, sending you lots of things… i think the first step or indication that kafka’s getting emotionally involved is her need for attention from her s/o and the time dedicated to you. shes not clingy but she’ll take the time to check up on you even if she’s worlds away by calling or texting just to talk to you, she asks questions like “miss me?” and stuff because she wants you to say yes, buys stuff that make her think of you, etc etc. the feelings come after you’ve built a corner for yourself in her mind. i headcanon kafka as someone who intellectualizes her feelings more than she feels them, so she’s able to tell how shes feelings without necessarily feeling the emotions, so in consequence of that she realizes them a bit late. emotions that are instantaneous like anger or disgust don’t require much intellectualization, but love is slow to build and it would certainly silently creep up on her until it’s too late to remove herself from the situation. i hc that love/romantic feelings are the one thing that will always surprise her, at least from her part. she doesn’t ask herself “do i have a crush on them…?” like most people would do, that introspection about her feelings wouldn’t come naturally to her because she doesn’t expect them. so by the time she realizes that she loves someone it’s like “oh. shit.” cause things just got complicated very quickly

kafka prides herself on knowing people, it’s part of her power/advantage over them and she just likes observing human nature in general so once she’s curious about you she will want to know you. knowledge eliminates surprises and i just feel like if she’s intrigued she’s certainly gonna do something about it. she has no shame or anxiety like 😭 she’ll approach you no problem depending on the context, but she’ll also spend a lot of time observing you. she’s good at reading people and their body language so trust she notices the little things, they all contribute in painting a picture of you in her mind which will in turn make her feel more in control. the thing with kafka imo is that control is very important to her, and you can’t have intimacy and control in a relationship; intimacy requires risk and vulnerability and she’ll never fully expose herself, but what’s a little annoying is that she’ll probably expect that from you. she understands you but you don’t necessarily understand her. this is how she treats her relationships and it kinda sucks because u can never have complete intimacy if there’s a power imbalance in terms of vulnerability. at least in social psychology lmfao

but yeah falling in love is a slow process and it’s definitely obvious cause we know how she acts when she cares (with the tb) and it’s made painfully clear, so if you pay a little attention to her behavior towards you vs others you’ll be able to realize it maybe even before she does 😭 it’s endearing really. i can’t tell you how exactly she’d fall in love bc it depends on the context but once the train is in motion there’s no stopping it

[miumura]

helloooo !!! can i have hanni gf hcs? thank you

💭 — HANNI AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND !

SOPH — hihi ofc!! tysm for requesting :) <3 this is SOOO overdue but im starting to work on my requests again <3 im sorry if this is a bit short, i haven’t been motivated recently but i tried! anyways smth for my bae hanni <3

WARNINGS — use of petnames (bae/babe)

— the person who you could just be honest with and talk about everything and ANYTHING. like we’ve seen her on that debate episode, bae was PREPARED! so i think she’d be also that talkative with you!

— i would say she’s touchy? like she loves physical touch, it’s one of her love languages. so when she’s by you, be shocked if she doesn’t start cuddling you or resting a body part on you LMAO 😭😭😭

— seems like someone who would do playful childish teasing. LIKE sticking tongue out or be like “ooouuuu” YKWIM? she does it for the fun of it and wanting a reaction. she’d be more than glad if you joined her <3

— forget about petnames, she’s gonna call you bro and dude all the time LMFAOOO. it’s a habit of hers and probably a habit of yours too, let’s be honest so it’s hard to stop! but if she does use one, it would probably be bae / babe bc she likes how it sounds

— idk…she seems the type to get jealous easily ? like she’d get real pouty or be overdramatic js for you to get the hint. she’d pretend to act cold after you notice but then just give in under your touch

— would make you do weird things w/ her LMFAO. like who wouldn’t want to ding dong ditch someone’s hotel room? hanni hanni hanni….

— would def hype you up! like she’d instantly scream and shout be like “ayyy, that’s my bae!”. just makes you feel so confident about yourself </3

— the type to just like tackle you HELP. like oh you’re laying down? she’s already preparing to jump on top of you.

— despite being pretty playful, i think she would be understanding. like she’s willing to hear you out and would change anything that you don’t like or whatnot.

— whenever she sees you sad, she instantly goes and check up on you. 😧 THIS EMOJI IS HER. and she would be like “what’s wrong?” as she rubs on your back.

— when one of you is stressed/sad (or both), she’d suggest taking a walk outside just to clear up your/her mind a bit. a bonus if it’s at night, since she loves taking walks at night.

— would probably try to make you laugh but end up laughing at herself before she could. but that doesn’t matter, since her laugh is contagious, it ends up with you laughing as well.

— probably loves matching stuff! i think she’d get really excited with matching necklaces, and even matching wallpapers!

— she’s just really comforting to be around, and you’ll never be bored when she’s around!

— forces you to watch movies with her. like she would get all excited when she finds a new movie to watch with you. so when she’s all giddy, who are you to refuse?? movie nights/dates are definitely your thing w/ her!

— likes taking silly pics and vids 😭 and whenever you tell her to delete it off your phone, she just goes “but you’re so cute here!” which explains why she has a whole album of you and her…(you also get a separate album of js you on her phone <3)

💭 — cool with you is literally stuck in my head

NWJNS PERM TAGLIST — @miumiuangel222

[latibvles]

"Bubbles has a crush on you." for Inez, bc I was just reading her description on your oc list and I think it would be funny and also Bubbles having a crush is adorable.

merc, this is delightful. you and @upontherisers lined up on this and it's definitely snowballed into something a lot more than what it was. but for now we can have some funny and sweet baby beginnings. everybody say thank you jean for your service.

—

To Harry’s credit, he waits until they’re a few feet away from the sick bay before springing it onto her, handing off his letter and making a poorly-executed attempt at “suddenly remembering” what Mrs. Jean Crosby wanted him to tell her. He moves his thumb from the part of the letter he’d been hiding from Bubbles when they paid their sick friend a visit — Inez takes the letter in full anyway, skimming its contents, squinting to make it easier on the eyes.

‘Sounds like Bubbles might have a bit of a crush on Inez! Can’t say I blame him, she’s a big sweetheart after all. Let me know how that goes, will you?’

She feels herself go red from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

“Huh?” Harry is smiling at her now, closed-lipped, hands in his pockets. “I don’t— that’s not— I don’t think…” Harry kisses his teeth, head bowing to watch as he kicks at the dirt.

“Damn, guess that’s a no-go on a double date when we’re back stateside huh?”

“Harry!” Inez hears her own voice rise in pitch and she wants to wither away at the sound. Still she reaches to swat at his arm and he leans to the side like she’s hit him hard enough to knock him off balance. He laughs at that like he had when shoving his damp hair in Bubbles’ face only a couple minutes ago.

“Just trying to figure out what I should say to Jean.” He puts his hands in the air in mock surrender. Inez huffs, cheeks burning as she looks back at Jean’s neat script, rereading the sentences over and over again.

You should say nothing to Jean, she thinks, thoroughly ruffled. She doesn’t even know what she’s supposed to say to that — much less what he should be telling Jean about it. What even was “it”? What’s she supposed to do with this information? If it’s even true, that is.

“What’ve you even told her, Harry?” Inez asks, still trying to wrap her head around the statement. A million different scenarios start racing through her brain: all of them circulating about censors, and fraternization, and they all end with her in Harding’s office having to explain in soft humiliation that no, she isn’t having… “relations” with Lieutenant Payne. The very thought makes her feel like she might spontaneously combust, which might just be better than—

“Nothing crazy. Promise,” he pulls her from her thoughts but she can only glare at him in a way she knows isn’t intimidating because he’s still smiling.

Bastard.

“Just… y’know, he wanted to ask you to dance last week but talked himself out of it. And uh— he was asking if you and Hambone were close.”

“Oh my God.”

“I can stop talking if you want,” Harry offers. If she hadn’t already hit him once, she’d do it now. But she doesn’t do that, just hands back the letter while he snickers and tries in a weak attempt to calm down her brain, which is already leaping back to the blue of his eyes and the gap in his teeth. She huffs and squints at him.

“Don’t tell Jean nothin’ or I’m telling June to come set you straight, Croz.”

[ Send "____ has a crush on you!" to an OC to see their reaction! ]