#I am however getting to regular replies so there's that.

[witchaotics]

Apologies for the starters I still owe, my brain is not in idea mode lately.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Fixed point (mathematics) // The History of Perspective // "Point of Disappearance", Dennis Held // How the Hughes hockey family stays grounded // Fixed Point Photography-- // "Portrait of A.", Tung-Hui Hu // Mic'd Up | Hughes NHL 25 cover shoot // "Burnt Norton", T.S. Eliot // "Circuitry", Janine Joseph // Bruce Bennett // Nick Wass // from obedience [maybe one day, during a point in time], kari edwards // Bill Rapai // "Errand Upon Which We Came", Stephanie Strickland // Benchmark (surveying)

art kid luke hughes

[purifiedclitoris69]

Spiders Dance

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Supersoldier!Reader

HIII!! super rough and unedited but I wanted to get it out. I am new to writing smut so bare with me lol. I've had this in my drafts for a min so figured I get it out! Hope you enjoy ;)

Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Nat, Top!Reader, Violence, IDK JUST PLEASE MDI

Summary: Natasha was a flirt, it was easy and entertaining, but she took a keen interest in flirting with you; Toying with you on a mission however, may not have been the best idea, or was it?

"Morning soldier," Nat greeted, causing you to blush immediately as you finished rinsing your fruits.

"Hey, Nat, want any fruit," you offered. The girl made you extremely flustered when it came to her comments, but besides that you had real friendship with the her

"No, thank you, but you could hand me a bowl," doing as she said you opened the cabinet above you handing Nat her request, "Thanks," she said taking the bowl letting your fingers touch and running her other hand across your broad shoulders as she passed you.

You flushed quickly, turning around clumsily your elbow hit the cabinet you had left open and your bowl of fruit drop straight to the floor.

Those in the kitchen laughed at the regular interaction as Wilson mumbled out a teasing, "nice one, y/l/n," as you rubbed the back of your neck and stared at the spilled fruit and empty Tupperware on the floor.

"yeah, yeah whatever," you grumbled out picking up your fruit as Wanda helped you giving you a pity smile and Nat smirked amused in the corner.

"You ever gonna give the girl a break," Clint asked walking up beside Nat as the two watched you wash your fruit again and get another bowl leaving the kitchen.

"Absolutely not," Nat said making her bowl of oatmeal, "the day's just begun, and we have training soon."

You had headed back to your room to save yourself any more embarrassment. You didn't mind the flirting by Nat, it boosted your ego and you were head over heals for the woman. She was perfect in your eyes, which was terrifying. She was brave, very skilled in her job, very stubborn, a little pridefull, but she was genuinely kind, understanding, and absolutely stunning. That's why she had so much power over you. You did everything she asked of you and practically dropped to your knees whenever she batted her eyelashes; everyone knew it.

You have yet to figure out her true intentions with her comments, but you knew they were too detailed and persistent for it not to mean anything. Whether it was just lust or whether she became the love of your life, it didn't matter to you yet, you just wanted her… and maybe a little payback for all the times she's embarrassed you. You spent a little time in your room finishing up mission reports but inevitably headed down to the main gym early. It was team training today which means more rosy cheeks and school girl butterflies are coming your way. You decided it’d be safe to work up a little sweat so you could at least attempt to excuse the blush on your face.

“Hey,” Steve greeted as he approached the treadmill you were stretching next to, “you beat me, here."

“don’t be shocked rogers, I am suppose to be the better model,” you teased

“i think people prefer the original,” he returned, as he began his stretches as well.

The two of you ended up running for about 45 minutes; you reaching 33 miles, Steve 31.

“people can prefer you more, but numbers don’t lie,” you spoke as the two of you walked over to the waters with a light sweat.

Steve was ready to reply when the gym doors opened with Wilson, Bucky, and the Maximoff’s entering and greeting you.

You announced to all of them how you beat Steve and began a discussion about who’s the best super soldier as Nat and Clint entered.

Natasha’s eyes landed on you immediately and that glowing sheen of sweat. Nat practically went feral whenever she caught you training or even in the field, basically anytime your muscles were pumped and you were showing off your strength, which is why she loveddd training with you.

As the team did their separate warm-ups, they eventually made it to the big mat to run scenarios on Vision, who made a reasonable subject as he was made of the strongest metal on Earth. Each of them took their turns and contributing pointers.

“Hey soldier,” Nat greeted joining your side and looking up at you.

“Tasha,” you smiled warmly, “no distractions this session please,” you breathed jokingly

“what me? you do your own share of distracting,” she spoke alluringly.

You raised you eyebrows in question

she smirked touching your bicep lightly as you looked down at your tight black compression tee, “your training shirts don’t leave much to imagine.” Your jaw clenched hard enough to shatter your teeth as your face lit up once more leaving you unable to respond besides a small laugh, “don’t worry soldier,” she stood on her tippy toes as you leaned your ear towards her and she whispered, “I really don’t mind.”

“y/l/n,” Sam shouted, “why don’t you and Steve spar so we can decide who’s really the better model."

You forced a smile still caught up in what Nat said, “winner goes against Buck,” you proposed as Steve and Bucky immediately engaged in banter. You looked back to Nat who was already walking away with that dumb sway in her hips.

“Ahem,” Steve cleared his throat waiting in the middle.

“Let the soldier gawk for a min,” Bucky laughed as everyone was already giggling.

Walking to the middle of the mat your jaw clenched with the tension Nat at fueled, “Ready, kid,” Steve smiled extending his hand, you shook off your thoughts and accepted his hand.

You began with light jabs and blocks, both of them moving with an easy grace. Steve feinted to the left, then quickly punched you right in the face falling away from the punch as you gave a small laugh.

You responded with a quick, kick aimed at Steve's shin, eyes sparkling as you got back up quickly and made brief eye contact with Nat going straight back in for another punch; Steve dodged it impressively giving your hair a playful ruffle, receiving a feigned glare. You then get caught off guard once more by the red head over Steve’s shoulder this time getting tooo lost in her and allowing Steve to attempt a mock take down, you struggled briefly but slipped out of it twisting and landing an instinctual sharp kick to his ribs.

Steve dropped to his knees immediately and held a hand up clutching his rib as he gasped for air, his own being completely knocked out of him. he declared a dramatic surrender, “I concede,” he choked, “tad too hard for training kid.”

“shit, sorry,” you breathed sliding down to help him stand.

“all good just was not prepared for all that air to get knocked out,” he breathed out a laugh.

You and Sam let out a laugh as you both went to help him up.

"Yeah, if we're gonna spar can we get Romanoff to leave the room," Bucky joked receiving a smack from Wanda beside him.

"Shut it, Barnes," you said rolling your eyes, "you can just say you're scared." The team laughed at this but deep down you were a little sick of it. You could've genuinely hurt Steve.

The rest of training went pretty smoothly, you stayed as far away as you could from Nat and decided on sparring with Vision for safety.

On the way back to your room your mind was only on her. You spent the rest of the night thinking about her. You craved her in so many ways and you've never experienced the attention of such a beautiful woman, whether it was genuine or not it made you weak; weak in many ways that could lead to dangerous outcomes.

A knock pulled you out of your thoughts, you were sat on your bed freshly out the shower, in only a sports bra and shorts.

"Yeah, just a minute!"

"Hey, y/n, it's Steve," he announced from the other side of the door, "I've got a mission for you, I need you in conference room 6 for a breifing."

"Got it!" you answered opening the door dressed to see him heading in that direction," What's the job," you asked at the door only to see Nat and Maria inside.

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

The mission was simple get in get out. HYDRA's latest threat: a hidden base in Siberia working on a new generation of enhanced using stolen S.H.I.E.L.D. technology. The mission involved only gathering intelligence, sabotaging the facility's operations, and ensuring the destruction of any cruel new serum, simple enough, hopefully.

Your mind wasn't completely in it, it was still caught up in your mission partner, and the lack of control you experienced around her. You knew this mission could be dangerous as well, HYDRA's experiments usually are, you, Bucky, and the twins are proof of that.

"Hey you alright," Nat pulled you out of your thoughts as she stood in front of you.

"Yeah," you gave a soft smile getting up and walking past her towards your locker.

"you sure, y/n," she walked towards you again, "it's okay if you're not, I know a mission like this can bring up things," she said trying to comfort you. You looked at her catching the genuineness in her eyes, stirring up those school girl butterflies.

"Yeah, I'm all good," you answered grabbing your usual knives and gadgets, "just a little nervous."

"I get it," she said going to her own locker beside you, "I wouldn't worry, we're in this together." You smiled at her cheesiness but deep down it did help lift you a little. This was the kindness you were talking about, she could be so understanding, and sweet; the great black widow, all sweet to you in private. Maybe it wasn't weakness she brought out of you.

"Destination, in ten minutes," FRIDAY announced.

"I'll land us," you said walking past Nat and into the cockpit.

The perimeter had already been infiltrated by another SHIELD unit, and a map of the facilities layout was processed with key points of interest highlighted. Natasha and you made your way up to the roof so she could access the security measures.

"Watch it," you pulled Nat back by the arm nodding down to a pressure alarm, "don't be so distracted," you commented off handedly.

"excuse me," she scoffed, "let's not talk about what happened in training today," she teased.

Ouch. You dropped her arm,rolled your eyes and looked away shameful…stubborn and prideful, "just cut the alarms already," you whispered. Natasha smirked going to the panel and connecting a small screen (another SHIELD you don't really know about), she's able to disable the security systems and time your guys entry perfectly.

"Okay check comms," Nat said quietly, checking the comms this is where the two of you split up. Natasha is to the control room to download and wipe the data, while you make it down to the labs to destroy the serum and plant the bombs.

"How's it going," you check in less than 2 minutes later. You've always gotten anxious on missions with the team, fearing any mistakes, fearing losing control; Hydra taking you again. With Nat it was ten times worse.

"Don't worry bout me, soldier," she laughed softly with a teasing tone, "focus on your mission, we'll be out soon."

"Yes, ma'am," you anxiously laughed, Nat on the other end flushing at the title.

In the control room Natasha watched the data download with only thoughts of you, it was getting bad. The flirting had started because of a physical attraction to you, your frame, your style, then it was your humor, your kindness, your awkward laugh, your belly laugh, that stupid smile, everything. Nat's daydreaming was cut off by rushed footsteps in the hall. Looking at the camera she had set up at the door she saw a squad of Hydra agents marching towards the room.

"Shit," she mumbled," Y/n, we have a -."

"Are you okay," you cut her off.

"Just get done fast, I have a squad advancing on me" she stated.

"I'm all done here, I'm--," you were cut off by the door to the labs being kicked down and flying across the room.

"What was that, are you okay," Nat asked as she finished up her task and deleting the files.

"Made contact with the enhanced," you said getting into a fighting position, as alarms began to sound.

"It'll be okay," Nat said, "we'll meet at the emergency randevu."

The enhanced made eye contact with you moving mechanically towards you like a brute, "Let's see which model's better now," you mumbled walking towards the danger.

The Prototype charged first, moving with surprising speed for its size. You dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a crushing blow that dented the metal floor. You countered with a swift punch to the Prototype's ribs, but it barely flinched, retaliating with a backhand that sent you sprawling. The two super-soldiers exchanged a flurry of blows, each strike resonating with power, but the Prototype’s resilience and raw power were relentless. It landed a solid punch to your side, sending you crashing into a lab table. Shattered glass and spilled chemicals hissed around you as you struggled to your feet.

Why the fuck was the model so strong. The Prototype loomed over you, ready to deliver a finishing blow. Summoning all your strength, You caught the descending fist in your own, muscles straining against the force. With a roar, you twisted the Prototype's arm, using its momentum to flip it over your shoulder and into a bank of computers. The impact shattered the screens and sent sparks flying as you pulled out a knife and stabbed the prototype only feeling it cut into metal. This thing wasn't a person anymore.

The Prototype snarled, grabbing your arm and pulling you into a headbutt. Stars exploded in your vision, but you fought through the pain, kicking the Prototype’s knee again, this time hearing a satisfying crunch. Breathing heavily, you didn’t let up. You charged at the downed Prototype, delivering a series of rapid punches to its torso and face.

The Prototype faltered, its movements becoming more erratic. You saw your opening, grabbed a heavy metal rod from the debris and swung it with all you might, connecting with the side of the Prototype's head. The force of the blow sent it crashing to the ground, where it laid, unconscious.

Standing admist the wreckage trying to catch your breath, you heard an "Ahem," making you jump.

"Shit," You breathed looking at Nat in the door way, "you said meet at the randevu point" you stated.

"sorry," she smiled walking over to you and cupping your face scanning you for any damage, only to see a cut lip and you clutching your rib "looking good soldier," she teased as she scanned back up to your face catching you staring, straight back at her and glancing down to her lips, you immediately flushed, backing away.

The roof further collapsed behind you, “we have to go, I've already planted the bombs” you said grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the exit. Making it towards the facilities garage waves of Hydra operatives began to emerge.

"Shit," Nat mumbled pulling you guys back behind a wall and coming face to face, smiling at the proximity.

"Stop it," you said stepping back, "you can't keep distracting me like this."

"I don't know what your talking about," Nat smirked teasing as Hydra agents were frantically looking all around for you.

"I'm not doing this here," you stated firmly, "what do you even get out of it,” you question furthered almost exhausted. Nat pitied you in this moment, she hadn’t realized how mad she was driving you, her face softened.

"They're over here," your head's both shot to down the halls were the Hydra operatives began rushing in.

"let’s go," Natasha said grabbing your hand and booked it the other way.

Making it to the garage and pushing a crate in front of the door, Natasha had time to hijack a Hydra truck right before the doors flew open, "GO!" you shouted slamming the driver side shut and kicking a hydra agent across the room.

"Wait!" Nat shouted trying to open the door again as you pushed it shut once more.

"Just go! I'll meet you at the jet," you yelled taking out another knife.

Natasha forced herself to slam on the gas leaving you to hold off the agents. With them being unenhanced hydra cockroaches it wasn't too bad they’re was just so many of them, it’d been awhile since you’ve seen this many agents in one place. As you were throwing them and slamming them to the floor, the bombs you had planted went off in the lab went off, the building shook and flames set. The explosion allowed three agents the time to make off on motorcycles straight in Nat’s directions.

“No,” you muttered under your breath, hurling one last agent to the ground, as more of the building began to collapse, you launched into a full sprint across the Siberian snow. Your breath crystallized in the frigid air as you dodged through the trees, eyes locked on motorcycles speeding ahead. Spotting a fallen log, you seized the opportunity, using it as a makeshift ramp to propel yourself through the air. You crashed into one of the riders, sending him tumbling into the snow and commandeering his bike in one fluid motion.

Accelerating hard, you leaned low over the handlebars, feeling the icy wind whip against your face. The roar of the engine drowned out the chaos behind you as you closed in on the next target. With a quick flick of your wrist, you deployed a zip-line hook from your gauntlet, the steel cable slicing through the air and embedding itself in the frame of the bike ahead.

You toggled the slack, your muscles coiling with anticipation. At just the right moment, you yanked hard, the sudden tension in the line allowed you to throw the motorcycle and its rider careening off course. They collided with the other bike in a spectacular crash, the two vehicles intertwining and skidding across the snow in a shower of sparks and shrapnel.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the base in the distance, its structure collapsing floor by floor in a series of detonations. The ground trembled beneath you, the sound of destruction echoing in the frozen wilderness. You didn't slow down. There was no time to celebrate. You didn’t know if they were going to follow or not and you had to get Nat out of there.

Unbeknownst to you Natasha had witnessed the whole thing and was absolutely craving you at this point. She knew she needed you. She arrived at the Quinn jet shortly before you, jumping out the car, and immediately going to check on you.

“Are you okay,” she asked urgently grabbing your shoulders and trying to scan for any injuries before you gently pushed her hands off of you

“Let’s just get in the air,” you spoke grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the jet. You walked straight to the pilot seat and got you guys in the air. Setting it on auto pilot, Nat could sense the frustration radiating off of you. You walked right past her and into the medical area.

“Do you need any help?” She asked, as you turned your back to her and took of your mission gear leaving you in a white beater.

“No, I’m just bruised,” you said flatly as blood bled through your shirt revealing a long gash as well, “shit,” you mumbled.

“that’s not just a bruise,” she joked trying to lighten your mood

“i can see that can you just give me some space,” you snapped at her.

“okay, what’s the problem,” Nat asked walking up to you with a purpose and pulling your shoulder to make you face her

“just back off,” you said shrugging her hand off you and walking past her. You took your beater off completely and walked towards the bandages.

“it’s gonna need sti..”

“it’s not,” you cut her off, “i heal fast remember,” you opened up the sterile wipes cleaning the wound and flushing it with one of the sterile saline solutions. You gritted your teeth with pain from the wound and felt her eyes bore into your every move; it made you nervous. You reached for sterile pads to quickly knocking over a trey and hissing in pain.

“Sit down,” she said sternly. Rolling your eyes you did what was told, sitting down you raised your arm up allowing her access to pat dry the wound with sterile pads and get fresh bandages. She watched your abs flex and adjust with every move, every breath. You watched closely what her hands were doing avoiding looking at her face, “there,” she smoothed the bandage over letting out a breath.

“thanks,” you mumbled walking toward your locker for a loose jacket.

“y/n,” she called out softly walking up to you as you ignored her, "can you stop being so childish."

"Me? Childish?" you scoffed at her and rolled your eyes, "you're the one who makes all these slutty comments and feels me up at every opportunity."

"Are you serious," her volume go louder, "your upset over me flirting with you."

"Natasha, we were on a mission, a dangerous one," you shouted, "and you still, took every chance you got. I mean seriously are you in heat or something!?"

Her face flushed, "wow I didn't know your ego could get this big, I'll give you credit," she scoffed

“this isn’t an ego thing, it’s obvious you want me to fuck you, you don’t have to deny it, dont even try to,” you seethed stepping forward with practically every word, “i don’t give a fuck about you constantly flirting with me like the slut you are, no matter how much I embarrass myself, I really don’t fucking care, because I know you..you really just can’t help it” your voice dropped back to a civil level still carried with a stern sense of frustration, “I am upset because your distractions today could’ve genuinely cost us,” you stood up straight, “cost me.”

You were staring down right at her, your breaths brushed one another’s face, “what,” she whispered, “cost you what,” Nat pushed wanting to hear you say it.

“you know what,” you whispered back looking to her lips and wetting your own.

“say it, y/n” she stared at your own lips.

“cost me you Nat,” you confirmed, your gaze going back to her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Nat whispered looking up at you. You broke the gaze dropping your head and closing your eyes taking a deep breath in.

"Do you even like me," you asked barely audible.

"What?" Nat laughed shocked.

"can you just answer the question, Natasha," you said looking back into her eyes, “do you even like me, or I just something you desire.”

She could tell she was hurting you at this point, that you were genuinely upset. "Yeah," she mumbled dropping her gaze to her, hands she looked small, "I do."

You cupped her face, bring her gaze back to you, your eyes scanning over every little feature, "but you just want me to fuck you too," you whispered staring at her lips, "don't you."

"I do," she answered as your lips inched closer and closer.

"say it," you said over her lips, "tell me what you want, Natasha."

Her hands went to yours," I want.." she whispered getting closer to your lips, "I want you to fuck me, y/n" She looked up into your eyes, "please," A shit-eating grin came upon your face as one hand moved to loosely wrap around her neck and your lips finally slammed together. You roughly pushed Natasha against the other lockers causing her to let out the most wanton pornographic moan ever, fueling the pit in your stomach. Breaking apart, your hands dropped to her hips keeping her in her place as she chased after your lips for more," please, y/n, don't tease."

You laughed looking down at her already swollen lips and licking your own, "Please, Nat," you said getting closer to her lips again, "I'm going to do whatever I want after all this shit you've pulled." Your lips went to the column of her neck, resulting in more of her pretty sounds and her hands in your hair. Your hands dropped lower towards the back of her thighs giving a light pull, she immediately jumped to wrap them around you. Your lips moved back to hers, kissing passionately, you swiped your tongue across her bottom lip, her own tongue pushing into your mouth as her hips moved in search of friction. You pulled the two of you away from the wall and carried her with ease to the medical bed not once breaking the kiss.

You placed her gently on her back, crawling over her, and moving your lips back to her neck. You bit marks into what was finally yours, as your hand moved to pull down the zipper on the front of her suit, "is this okay," you asked.

Nat smiled as her hips lifted towards you and her hands went further into your hair, "more than okay," she breathed, "I'm yours," she whispered across your lips, "and I want you to do whatever you want to me," she looked into your eyes pupils completely blown. Your lips locked in another passionate kiss, this time brief. Each touch caused shivers through Nat, her breath hitching in anticipation as you pulled the zipper down further and pulled the suit from her body, exposing her skin inch by inch.

"You're so beautiful," you murmured, sitting up and taking in her disheveled look as she lay in her bra and underwear.

"Take this off," she unzipped your jacket and pushed it off your shoulders. Hands scratching over your abs and back to your hair as she pulled you back into another kiss. Both breathing heavy and desperate your lips moved back to trail down Natasha's neck, leaving a path of more marks. When you finally reached Natasha's chest, your hand wrapped around to unclip her bra, your mouth immediately latching onto her nipple earning a gasp from Nat, "Y/n please," she whimpered, hands tugging in your hair to pull you closer. With a growl of need, you continued your descent, your mouth leaving a burning trail down Natasha's stomach. Kissing lightly above her underwear, you locked eye for further permission at which Nat nodded eagerly too, hooking your fingers in her underwear, Natasha's eyes fluttered shut, her hips lifting urging you to move faster.

Pulling her underwear off, Nat's core glistened with need. You couldn't help but smirk and kiss around the place she needed you most. You spread her legs wider, hands gripping her thighs firmly, as you littered love bits all over them, "Please, Y/n, I'm begging you," she moaned as you ghosted over her clit again.

The great Black Widow begging. You didn't waste another second, your mouth latched on to her core, tongue flicking out to taste what was finally yours. Natasha cried out, her back arching off the bed, causing you to moan into her core, and her to thrash more. You forced her hips down with more strength bound to leave bruises after. Your tongue moved expertly, alternating between teasing flicks and deep rough strokes. Natasha's moans gre louder, her hands pulling desperately at your hair. "Oh god, Y/n," she gasped, her body trembling.

Your grip tightened on Natasha's thighs, holding her in place further as you increased your pace. Tongue delving deeper, your mouth worked Natasha closer and closer to the edge. Natasha's moans turned into invoherent cries from the stimulation, her body writhing beneath you.

"Go ahead," you mumbled, " come for me, pretty girl," the vibrations sent Natasha over the edge as she screamed your name, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

You didn't stop, your mouth continuing to work Natasha through her orgasm until she was a trembling, breathless mess. Only then did you pull back, lips glistening with Natasha's arousal. You crawled back up her body, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

"your mine," you whispered against her lips, "as I am yours."

Natasha nodded weakly, giving a blissful smile, her eyes glazed with satisfaction. "Always," she answered, hand still tangled in your hair.

[yuutryingtowrite]

Yandere!Chef x Vampire!Reader

A/N: If you wanna know more about the levels, check this post :)

Warning: Not nsfw, but suggestive. MDNI. Chef calls reader "Madam"

Danger level: ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

Submissive level: ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♡

~Your First Dinner with Him~

Yandere!Chef who is really oblivious. He has been staying at your castle for a while now and yet, he still doesn’t know that you are a vampire. You did try to tell him on his first day here that food is not substantial for you, but he had politely interrupted you with a “I insist, Madam. Please go rest, the food will be ready in a moment” and even guided you to the living room, by gently pushing on your lower back with his large, rough hand. You were too flustered by the gesture to continue arguing.

Your second attempt was during dinner. You thought about striking when he would go sit down after putting both plates on the table, but, much to your dismay, after that, he remained standing beside you instead. Confused, you looked up (realllllly up. How tall was this guy??) and found him nervously watching you. You were weak to his puppy look. You took a bite: “Hm! It is really good”. A smile broke on his face, his eyes turning into tiny crescent moons. “I am glad you think so, Madam! Please let me know if you have any special requests. I want to properly take care of you”, he enthusiastically, albeit a bit sheepishly, replied. Ugh, his expressions, his demeanor…way too cute. New hobby acquired: eating human food.

~His Favorite Dinner (?) with You~

Yandere!Chef, who you rarely see with a frown, who usually wears that soft and kind smile of his, looks rather uneasy today, some would say even depressed. The truth is: he can’t stand his body. Seeing it in the mirror this morning completely killed his mood. He was not aware of it before, as the change was gradual; however, it seems like he gained weight while working here as your personal chef. A number of his big, hard-earned muscles from years of underground fighting, like his pecs, his abdomen and his butt glutes, currently have a squish to the touch. They aren’t purely solid anymore. His form strayed from bulky to a bit more beefy. 

Why is that a problem? Well, ladies don’t find this attractive. At least, the ones from his village didn’t. He had witnessed it before. Had he stayed there, he would have been the subject of their disapproving and disgusted stares. Even among the regular folks, chubbiness was written off as being lazy and unreliable. You are too kind to think or do something like that, but he doesn't want your politeness, he doesn't want your open-mindedness, he wants your love. 

Lost in thoughts of new workout routines, he doesn’t notice his cut finger until blood starts to drip onto the vegetables. Ah…if he had dog ears, they would have flopped on his head. He already ruined his body, he doesn't need to ruin your dinner too. 

Turning around, it would appear that the person on his mind is right behind him. 

“M-madam! How did you get ther-", which is a very valid question; prior to this, there were no sounds owned by your footsteps nor by the kitchen’s door opening and closing. Yet, instead of answering, you just abruptly…grab his wrist and…put his finger in your mouth? At the contact, the broad-shouldered man makes a little noise. You don’t mind him as you begin to suck the blood out of the injury. 

He is very confused, he doesn't understand why you are doing this. The feel of your tongue on his skin, how you both are standing so intimately close to each other; it doesn’t favor his thinking either. It is actually making him lightheaded. Like is this sensation akin to pleasure that keeps building up the more this situation goes on. He lets out another whimper when your hand slides under his shirt to squeeze at the small fat of his stomach. 

As this snaps him out of his haze, he begins to weakly plead instead, without real conviction, to let go of his hand; he doesn’t want you to get sick. He could easily overpower you, but he can’t get his body to stop trembling. All he can do is bring a shaky hand to his mouth to muffle the sounds that keep spilling out since the feeling from earlier is now more intense, more delightful.   

Before this could escalate, you finally release his finger with a pop. You look up and find your poor chef completely flushed, his eyes unfocused, taking heavy breaths.   

Guess you owe him an explanation, huh?  

~H̶̝̿i̸̭̓s̴͉̿ ̷͉͑b̴̒͜e̶͊ͅs̴̠͋t̶̮͆ ̵̡̀d̴̟́ĩ̷̦s̷͛ͅh̶͍͛ ̵̣̃ ~

Yandere!Chef who now feeds you proper food.

“From which animal is this blood from? It tastes exquisite! I never had something like this before”, you excitedly ask him. 

“Oh, you know Madam, just ventured deeper into the forest than usual”, he answers vaguely.

He doesn’t want to worry you by saying it actually belongs to the rude asshole who pushed you the other day. 

Isn’t that sweet?

…

Drink well, darling

[supernotnatural2005]

‘Mr Right Now’

(Source)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings/tags: Implied Smut (18+), swearing, fluff, one night stand... kinda, mentions of cheating

A/N: Entirely based on this lil clip right here 👆🏻😂, however this will be from the reader’s POV in the beginning and perhaps a lil' insight into Dean’s funny walk 👀🤣

Main Masterlist

Valentine’s Day.

It’s supposed to be your favourite night to work. Singles Night always brings in a good crowd, fun music, and flirty banter that makes your shift fly by. But tonight?

Tonight, you want to crawl under the bar and disappear.

Six months ago, your ex — Travis — said you were “pressuring” him when you asked if he’d ever thought about marriage or kids. After three years together, you figured it wasn’t a crazy question. But the truth came out not long after: he’d been sleeping with your downstairs neighbour. Class act, right?

And today? You found out he just proposed to her.

Yeah. Happy freakin’ Valentine’s Day.

So yeah, you’re bitter. And tired. And trying not to punch the next person who asks for a “Love Me Long Time” shot with a wink.

You were mid-pour when you noticed him. Dean. That rugged, flirty regular who always nursed his whiskey like he had secrets too heavy to say out loud. It’d been a while since he last came in — his job took him all over, he’d once vaguely mentioned. Never said much more.

But tonight, he looked good. That usual cocky smirk in place, dark flannel and jeans and those green eyes doing their usual scan of the room before settling on me.

“Hey, stranger,” you say, once you finished up with your customer, managing a warm smile.

“Here to scope out the sea of desperation?” You teased. And Dean grinned, shaking his head.

You knew he played the field, usually always leaving with a woman on his arm. And a day like today must be like hitting the jackpot for him. You didn’t judge him for it though, these ladies knew what they were getting into.

“That obvious, huh?” he chuckles, his eyes already making their familiar appreciative sweep over you. He’d aimed and missed with you once before — back when you were still with ‘he-who-shall-not-be-named.’ But he respected the boundary, and you appreciated that. Now, though… you find yourself not minding if he looks.

“I mean, if you want to feed yourself to the piranhas, who am I to stop you.” You winked and then poured his usual - double whiskey, neat. 

“I’m surprised you’re working tonight,” he says, eyeing you over the rim of his glass. “Thought you’d be spending Valentine’s with… what’s his name again? Trevor? Tyrone?”

“Travis,” you correct, unable to keep the disgust from your voice. The name tastes like poison now.

Dean notices. Raises a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Try dumping me after three years because I had the audacity to ask about our future,” you say with a tight smile. “Turns out, it wasn’t because I was pressuring him — it was because he was screwing the twenty-four-year-old downstairs.”

“No shit.” Dean blows out a breath, brows raised.

“Shit. And get this.” You lean in like you’re telling him the world’s dirtiest secret. “I found out today, of all damn days, the asshole proposed to her.”

You let out a bitter laugh. Dean just shakes his head.

“What a douchebag,” he mutters, voice rough with genuine annoyance on your behalf.

“Just feels like such a giant waste of time, you know.” you sigh, glancing out at the dance floor where the lonely and the bold are coupling off, laughing, swaying, kissing. All of them looking far less wrecked than you feel.

Then Rachel — your co-bartender and part-time devil on your shoulder — slides in beside you, muttering with a smirk, “Well, you know what they say… Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”

She nods toward Dean before spinning off to help another customer. Subtle as ever.

“She’s not wrong,” Dean says, that glint in his eye turning mischievous.

You raise a brow, curious. “What, are you offering?”

“I wasn’t not offering,” he replies smoothly.

Your pulse skips.

The tension between you two has always been there — a low simmer under the surface. Banter. Glances. But you were off-limits. Now?

Now you’re single. And hurting. And Dean’s looking at you like he’s more than willing to be your rebound.

“I’m off in an hour,” you say, leaning across the bar just enough to let him see the smirk tugging at your lips. “Think you’ll survive?”

Dean’s grin is slow, sinful. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been waiting for the last year. What’s sixty more minutes?”

An hour later, Dean’s on your couch, thick thighs spread, watching you strip off your jacket with hooded eyes.

You straddle his lap, fingers sliding through his hair as you kiss him. It’s rough, desperate, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. His hands grip your waist, pull you flush against him, and you moan into his mouth.

“My ex,” you whisper against his lips, “used to call me a sex freak.”

Dean tilts his head, grinning. “Yeah? Sounds like the douchebag couldn’t keep up.”

You roll your hips against him, feeling him hard beneath you. “Said I was too much.”

“Sweetheart,” he growls, voice low and thick, “I like too much.”

Your clothes hit the floor in a trail of chaos. You barely make it to the bedroom before he’s pushing you against the wall, kissing you like a man starved.

Somewhere between the laughter and the gasps, you tie his wrists to the headboard with your scarf.

His eyes go wide. “Oh, you are wild.”

You just smile. “Still game?”

Dean huffs a laugh, already breathless. “Hell yes.”

And he is. Game for all of it. For your hands, your mouth, the way you ride him like you’ve got something to prove — maybe to yourself, maybe to him. He lets you take control, lets you wreck him, and when he finally comes undone beneath you, sweaty and flushed and utterly ruined, he lets out a hoarse, “Fuck... I’m gonna feel that for a week.”

You collapse next to him, laughing into the curve of his shoulder.

“Want me to kiss it better?”

He turns his head, kisses you slow and sweet. “I think now it’s my turn, sweetheart.” 

And before you can reply, he’s rolling you beneath him, dragging you into round two with a look that says he’s nowhere near done.

When you wake the next morning, deliciously sore in all the best ways, you turn to find Dean still there, tangled in your sheets, a lazy arm draped over your waist. You smile and appreciate his beauty for a minute and wonder why you hadn’t just fucked Travis off sooner and took up Dean’s offer, because holy shit that was probably the best sex you’d ever had. 

Dean seems to notice your staring and hums as he pulls you closer, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder, then your neck, all the way up until he’s claiming your lips once more. 

You sigh happily into it and as he shifts closer and he groans. “Damn, sweetheart. You really did a number on me.” He chuckles and drops his head to your shoulder.

You giggle beneath him, but bite your lip a little insecure. “Too much?”

He seems to notice your apprehension and lifts his head, his grin is lopsided as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Never too much. I’ll take the limp proudly.”

The two of you burst out into laughter and then spend another 20 minutes sharing a few more lazy kisses before he finally vacates your apartment, leaving you with one last long, lingering kiss at the door and a promise of a repeat.

Back at the bunker, Dean limps into the kitchen like he’s been hit by a truck, wincing with every step. He makes a beeline for the fridge, yanks it open, and grabs a questionable takeout container like a man on the edge.

Sam glances up from his laptop, frowns. “Is that a hickey?”

Dean pops the lid, scoops a bite of rice into his mouth and immediately spits it out, not caring if half of it ends up on the floor. He was too hungover for this.

He sets down the container and shuffles toward the coffee pot like it’s holy salvation. Thank God Sam’s an early riser.

“And?” Dean grunts. “It was Valentine’s Day. Can’t help it if I’m a hopeless romantic.”

“You got half of that right,” Sam mutters, not looking up.

Dean smirks. “Just doing my civic duty. Helping a recently single lady rediscover her joy.”

“So… you were the rebound?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You know the best thing about February fourteenth? You don’t have to be Mr. Right. Just Mr. Right Now, and if that means in the rebounding sense, who cares? I still got laid.”

Sam scoffs. “Classy.”

Dean huffs, tired of the third degree. “Yeah? What did you do, judgy? Curl up in a snuggy, watch fifty shades on cable?” 

“Yeah. No.” Sam huffs humourlessly.

Meanwhile, Dean sips his coffee, eyes unfocused as his mind wanders back to the scratch of your nails down his back, the gasp you made when he kissed that spot behind your knee, the way your voice broke when you said his name.

Yeah. He thinks.

Best. Night. Ever.

AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this one, it was a fun little experiment and just what my brain conjured up watching this clip lol 😂 I don't know about you guys, but Dean could happily be my rebound 😍

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester/series Tag List:

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@tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2

@deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown

@jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @shadysoulangel @my-stories-vault

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@impala67stellawinchester @youroldfashioned @bonbonnie88 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @bejeweledinterludes

[woso-dreamzzz]

Menor's Halloween

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: The second of my Halloween-centric fics

Alexia grins as she looks at herself in the mirror, straightening out her skirt and putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

The family Halloween party has been a staple ever since her childhood, bringing the family back together every year without question.

It was basically a rule at this point, something no one could get out of and chosen to take place on a day when no one has an excuse to be elsewhere.

"Are you ready yet?"

It's Olga's first time at the party, unable to make it the past few years. She's gone fairly conservative with her outfit, a generic Halloween costume of a zombie cheerleader.

Alexia can forgive her though because originally Olga hadn't been able to come until her meeting in Madrid was cancelled last minute so she had to buy the unpopular costume from the store.

Alexia, on the other hand, has had her costume planned out for months with everything ironed to perfection.

"Ready!" Alexia calls out," I just need to find-"

"The bag is on the table where you left it last night."

Alexia grabs the bag from the table, swinging it over her shoulder before slipping into the driver's seat of the car.

Family events like this one normally end up with a lot of drinking and, while she wouldn't usually partake, Alexia's already planned to allow herself a few more drinks than normal.

Olga's decided to take up the driving home duty to let Alexia drink however much she wants.

"I'm nervous," Olga says, straightening out her cheer skirt and rubbing at her face - though she grows a little annoyed when the face paint rubs off onto her fingers.

"Don't be nervous," Alexia says," You've met everyone before."

"I know but...Halloween party seems more official."

"They'll probably already be drunk," She replies," And try to ply your with pizza. Or paella. Depending on if my aunt cooked or my uncle convinced her to order in."

"Sounds delightful."

"That's the spirit!"

Alexia knocks on the door, greeted by the slightly tipsy face of her cousin when it opens.

He giggles a little, a sure-fire sign he's been drinking. "I-I thought you were already here." He bursts into more hysterical laughter after that and Alexia gets the feeling that she's not in on the joke.

"And you've brought the wonderful Olga! Come in! Come in! Can I interest you in some pizza?"

"So Tio convinced her?"

"No. Mama cooked. Papa just ordered in anyway! Off you go now, Ale. I want to talk to your girlfriend!"

He pulls Olga away without another word and Alexia rolls her eyes.

"Gee, I love you too. Typical."

Alexia rolls her eyes fondly, easily losing her cousin and girlfriend in the crowd of family members either halfway to drunk or already firmly there.

A giggling hiccup has Alexia turning to see another one of her cousins by the fridge.

"I could have sworn you were already here," She says, giggling and Alexia sighs.

"Alright, what am I missing here? You're the second person to tell me that."

Her cousin giggles again, downing another vodka shot and shooting Alexia a drunken smile. "Just that I could have sworn you came with Tia Eli today. Though...you did seem a little shorter."

She giggles off before stumbling away but she's already given Alexia all the information that she needs.

She picks her way through her family members, stopping briefly to say hello to the aunt and uncle who are hosting and then her mother before finally seeing who she's been looking for.

"Is that my shirt?!" She demands," And my armband?!"

You turn around, eyes wide. An answer is on the tip of your tongue before you take in what she's wearing.

"Is that my skirt?! Are those my rackets?!"

"Don't change the subject!" Alexia says," You've dressed as me for Halloween?!"

"You dressed as me!"

"That's different."

"How?"

"It-It just is!"

Alexia takes you in as she steps back. You've got your hair done up in her usual ponytail rather than your regular braids. You've got her full Barcelona kit on along with the armband and her boots. You've even brought a football with you just in case people didn't realise who you were meant to be.

Alexia, on the other hand, had gone out of her way to dress like you. She's wearing one of your tennis skirts and your Nike shirt. She's got her hair in your usual braid with your Barcelona cap and even the gold shoes Nike gave you for your Olympic run. She's got a racket bag over her shoulder, full of the old rackets you'd left at home before your move abroad.

You seem to be taking Alexia in just like she's taking you in before nodding.

"Those are the replica shoes, right?" You check.

"Yeah. They cost a lot though. You're quite the superstar. That isn't one of my hattrick balls is it?"

"No, just one of the ones you leave lying around at Mami's."

Alexia nods. "Good. You look good though."

"Thanks, I practiced your haughty look a lot."

Alexia rolls her eyes. "I don't have a haughty look."

"You so do all 'I'm Alexia Putellas, captain of Barcelona, the best team in the world'."

"But I am Alexia Putellas and I am captain of Barcelona which is the best team in the world. I won the Ballon D'or twice, you know."

"Yeah, well I won all the Grand Slams. And the Olympics."

"Now, now," Alexia says," This isn't a bragging match. Because if it was, I'd win." She reaches for you, trapping you in a headlock and rubbing her knuckles against your head. "Which one of us has more awards?"

"Only because you're an old woman now. By the time I'm your age, I'm going to be the greatest tennis player in the world."

"Yeah," Alexia teases," Aim high."

You grin at her, shoving her away before trying to tackle her to the floor. She doesn't move an inch but you had been expecting that.

"I guarantee I can score more goals on you than sets you can win against me."

Alexia laughs.

"The garden's free. Want to test that theory?"

You grin. "Well, don't start crying when you lose."

[kaiawrites]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES (halloween fic)

lando norris x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

prompt(s): “You okay? Your face is red.” “Yeah, I mean, yes. Totally, it’s just the weather.” & "Oh my god, your room is so dirty. How do you live here?" "If you're so bothered by it, clean it up." "Fuck off. I'm not your servant." "You act like one." "I. Said. Fuck. Off."

warnings: slightly creepy guy calls the reader a wh*re, minor violence/blood (just a bar fight), the rest is pretty fluffy

a/n: posting my 'once in every 3 years' post, happy halloween for the lando girlies! I haven't proofread this, so sorry for any mistakes

"Have you seen my black T-shirt, I'm sure it was here. I swear I saw it here," you heard Lando’s voice call out from across your shared flat. 

"Oh, the one that looked like a rag? Yeah, I threw it away," you replied as you continued drying off your dishes.

“What!” you heard Lando shriek. "You little shit, come here!" You snickered as an angry, shirtless, Lando stormed into your kitchen.

“Clam down Norris, I didn’t touch any of your shit I have no idea where your goddamn T-shirt is,” you laughed at the Brit’s unamused face as you put away the last of the dishes. “Come on, I’ll help you look for it,” you said, though you did not expect what you found when you reached Lando’s room. Rarely did you ever come into each other’s room; so you hadn’t seen it’s inside in a while. Clothes were strewn about on every flat surface, cups and plates you’d been missing for weeks scattered about and his bedsheets practically on the floor. No wonder he couldn’t find his stupid t-shirt.

"Oh my god, your room is so messy. How do you live here?" you laughed, your roommate glowering further at you. Clearly, he did not find you as funny as you found yourself.

"If you're so bothered by it, clean it up."

"Fuck off. I'm not your servant." 

"Well, you act like one, darling," now a teasing smile curling his lips.

“Then you can find your shirt on your own, Norris,” you said, giving him a bitter smile before exiting his room. You knew damn well there was no way you would've been able to find anything in his mess of a room. Anyways, you had to start getting ready too, since you were soon to be on your way to a Halloween party. Your costume was quite simple, just a regular red mini-dress and some devil horns on a headband, so it didn’t take you very long once you’d gotten your makeup down. 

“Come on Norris we’re gonna be late!” You called out, checking your phone for the time. In truth, you were already late, but you were about to be later than was acceptable if Lando didn’t come down soon. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long. Unluckily, however, it seemed that Lando had gone absolutely insane and dumped a gallon of glitter on his skin.

“Is that your costume?” You asked. Lando looked down at himself and nodded proudly, glitter falling off at the movement. “I thought you were being a vampire..?”

“I am,” Lando replied, a permanent proud and shit-eating grin on his face. “You know, like the ones from Twilight.”

“You’re going to embarrass me,” you said in exasperation.

“I know, that’s the point, love,” Lando replied smugly. “Let’s go now, you don’t want to be late, do you?” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him out.

———

Lando watched from the bar as you stumbled off the dance floor and looked around, a bright, dazed smile tugging at your lips when you spotted him. Jesus christ you were beautiful. Not that you weren’t always beautiful, Lando knew you were, but there were moments where you seemed more than beautiful. Moments like this one, where you headed toward him, the glistening of your skin reflecting the club lights, looking at him expectantly as you awaited his answer.

“What?” Lando said, breaking out of his stupor and nearly blushing at how he’d completely missed your question. You laughed at his confusion, before leaning closer. Lando’s heart skipped a beat, and for an imperceptible moment, he thought you were going to kiss him. But of course, the moment passed as you leaned into his ear, repeating your unanswered question more clearly. 

“Why aren’t you having fun?” you asked smoothly, revealing a faux pout as you drew back. Lando let out a chuckle.

“I am having fun, love,” he replies.

“No, you’re standing here watching the rest of us have fun,” you replied, matter-of-factly. “Come oooonnn, Norris, come dance with me.” Lando stared into your puppy-dog eyes, ready to give in and come make a fool of himself on the dance floor for you, before he was cut off by an unknown, and unwelcome voice.

“Forget him, I’ll dance with you,” the voice said, its owner getting far too touchy with you for Lando’s liking.

“Uhm, no thank you,” you answered, all your previous mirth dissipating into discomfort.

“Come on babe, I promise, I’m fun,” the evidently drunk man repeated, 

“I’m alright, thanks,” you said, refusing once more. The man didn’t reply this time, instead choosing to grab your wrist in order to lead you toward the floor.

“She said no, mate,” Lando cut in dryly. The man turned toward Lando, anger simmering beneath his stare.

“Look, you can drop the act mate, I’ve seen her whoring around all night, I know that’s not your girl. She’s free game,” he slurred.

“What did you just call her?” Lando spat. The guy laughed at what Lando could only assume the man thought was an empty threat. However, Lando didn’t give him a chance to retaliate.

“Lando!” you exclaimed as both men went down. The next moments were a blur of fists and bloodied faces, until Lando was suddenly pulled off the man by a security guard. He turned to see you looking all at once scared, worried, relieved and angry. Lando looked back down at the drunk guy, and he couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk at the state he’d left him in, even as the security guard escorted him out of the bar.

———

“Are you mad at me?” Lando broke the heavy silence as you walked into your flat. You sighed deeply, turning around to face him for the first time since you’d been kicked out of the bar. 

“Of course not, just… promise you won’t do anything like that ever again. I mean, I know you’re an idiot, but that was even more stupid than usual,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood, but Lando still stared at you, uncharacteristically unreadable.

“I can’t promise that, I would do it again if I had to.”

You stared at him intently, searching for any sign of Lando’s usual playfulness, but you only found earnest eyes and a clenched jaw. You averted your gaze, not knowing what to do with this uncharacteristic behaviour. Instead, you turned toward the bathroom, hearing Lando’s shuffling feet as he trailed after you. Rummaging through a drawer, you pulled out a first aid kit and turned back toward Lando to find him almost comically standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Sit,” you said more harshly than you intended, gesturing toward the ledge of the bathtub. Lando heeded your command, silently taking a spot where you’d directed him. After wiping off the remainder of his face paint and glitter, you began by cleaning up the cut on Lando’s nose, soaking a towel with cold water and dabbing it at the cut. Lando flinched and hissed at the contact. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you chided with a chuckle, though there was no malice in it.

“I am not a baby,” Lando scoffed with a small smile. After cleaning and patching up the cut on his nose, you moved on to his split lip, hesitating a moment before bringing the towel to it. Lando’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly at the contact, but he didn’t wince this time. You focused on intently cleaning the wound, and once you were done, you set aside the towel. You turned back toward Lando to find his face tinged a bright red.

“Are you okay? Your face just got all red?” you inquired, looking him over for any sign of an injury you might have missed.

“Yeah, I mean, yes. Totally. It’s the, uhm, weather,” Lando replied, his voice breaking on the first word. You looked at him, deadpan.

“We’ve been inside for a solid ten minutes, Norris,” you stated.

“Well, y’know what I mean, it’s like, warm in here or something,” he rectified, his face somehow flushing further. A small smirk formed on your lips.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flustered, Norris,” you teased as you finished cleaning up the small cut.

“What? Flustered? By you?” He replied, his voice an octave higher and cadence a tad faster than usual, only proving your point further. You disposed of the gauze, turning back toward him and cupping his face in your hands. You smirked and raised an eyebrow at his widening eyes and ever-flushed face. “Okay, okay, maybe I am,” he admitted.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” You taunted him. Lando’s eyes searched your face for any sign of humour, but found only sincerity. With that, he leaned in, closing the remaining distance between the two of you. The kiss was slow and purposeful, free of any of the teasing which usually permeated all your interactions. This was something else, communicating a kind of sincerity your words could hardly convey.

“Thank you,” you added after parting from the kiss.

“What? For kissing you?” Lando answered with a chuckle. “‘Cause I can do it again.”

“For sticking up for me. It was dangerous and reckless and please don’t do it again. But thank you, still. I appreciate it.”

“Well, like I said, I would do it again. That fucker had it coming, messing with my girl.” He replied, brushing the pad of his thumb on your cheek.

“Your girl, huh?” You echoed teasingly.

“If she wants to be, that is?” Lando replied. You hummed, contemplating.

“If he takes me on a date, I might consider it,” you settled on, turning to exit the bathroom, though you didn’t miss Lando’s hushed, dragged out yes, and you giggled as you imagined him pumping his fist. He followed you out, and you both settled on the couch, seemingly in agreement to watch a movie. You tossed Lando the remote.

“Your turn to pick,” you said, as you had picked the movie last time. After a moment, Lando settled on a movie and pressed play. “A horror movie?” You inquired. “You’re terrified of those.”

“Am not!” Lando replied petulantly. 

“Yes, you are,” you laughed, doubling over as the first jumpscare of the movie made Lando jump in his place. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing you laugh, even if it was at his expense. In fact, he would gladly make an idiot out of himself every day if it meant making you laugh like that. And maybe Lando really was terrified of horror movies, but maybe he’d also purposely picked a horror movie so he’d have an excuse to hide his face on your shoulder, and maybe, just maybe, you were glad he’d picked a horror movie because you too, wanted and excuse to keep him close tonight.

[moonrisecherub]

black honey | emily prentiss x reader

summary: after a small slip-up, the team finds out about your and emily's relationship.

tags: fluff, fem!bau!reader x unit chief!emily, kissing, relationship reveal, boss/employee relationship, reader wears lipstick, no use of y/n, second person

word count: ~900

a/n: regular text size and capitalization under the cut. set during evolution, but no spoilers, really! also, let's pretend hr isn't a thing!!

cross-posted on ao3

It was a slow, paperwork-filled day at the BAU. The team had just wrapped up an out-of-state case, and you were honestly thankful for the monotony of the day so far. You ached, however, to see your girlfriend.

Sure, the two of you had been working alongside each other for basically the whole case, but you barely got any alone time.

You ruminated on the thought for a bit, reapplying your lipstick mindlessly, but soon pushed the thought aside. You went back to scribbling away in your file, when your phone chimed suddenly.

Emily: Come see me.

She must have read your mind.

You looked up, seeing her office door ajar, and made your way up after closing the file.

When you entered, she was at her desk, typing on her laptop. You took a moment to admire her, the light from the window illuminating those features you loved so much.

“Am I in trouble, boss?” You joked after closing the door. She looked up from her laptop, closing it, and pushing her chair back. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she stood up, making her way to the front of her desk.

Leaning against the desk in that way that always makes you swoon, Emily motioned for you to come over. When you were close enough, she took your hand in hers. She brought it up to her lips, kissing gently at your skin.

Remembering where you were, your eyes darted to the windows overlooking the bullpen, only to see that the blinds were closed.

Oh.

She had a plan.

“I missed you,” she said, a small twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

“Me too, Em.”

Her hands fell to your waist, and she pulled you closer. “So, do something about it.”

With that, you closed the gap between the two of you. You captured her lips, and she immediately returned the kiss with a surprising fervour. You let yourselves get lost in it, tongues dancing together slowly. You let your hands wander upwards, entwining them in her silver locks.

You let out a small whimper, causing Emily to pull back reluctantly. You looked at her, all wide eyes and pouty lips.

“None of that, sweetheart,” she replied to your little display, “I just don’t want to get too carried away, is all.”

You rolled your eyes. “Says the person who started it.”

Before she could reply, there was a knock at the door. The two of you separated quickly before she called for them to come in.

“Hey, guys,” JJ said from the doorway, “we’ve got a case.”

“We’ll be right there,” Emily replied.

Thankfully, JJ didn’t seem to pick up on anything, and she left with a nod. You went to follow her when Emily grabbed your wrist, turning you around.

“I’m not done with you,” she whispered, causing a chill to run up your spine.

Like nothing had happened, she exited the office, leaving you flustered at her words.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

When you entered the briefing room, Emily was already seated at the round table, chatting quietly with JJ. You took your seat next to her, purposely avoiding her gaze so as not to let that all too familiar heat creep up your cheeks. Tara and Luke greeted you quickly before returning to their own conversation.

Not too long after, Garcia entered, coffee in hand. As she made her way up to the front of the room to get set up, she stopped for a moment.

She cocked her head to the side. “Emily, I like your lipstick!”

You froze. Your lipstick.

“Wh—” Emily started, Penelope interrupting her.

“You don’t usually wear lipstick,” she said, “is it new? It looks like that Clinique one…Black Honey! Is that what you’re wearing?”

Before Emily could answer, Garcia continued, “Huh, that’s what you usually wear,” she remarked, her focus now shifting to you. You could see the gears turning behind her eyes. Tara and JJ were both holding back smiles, eyes flitting back and forth between you and Emily.

“Oh, my god!” Penelope all but shrieked. “You two?!”

You finally looked at Emily, whose eyes were already on you. Cat’s out of the bag, her expression read. You let your head fall to your hands with a sigh, knowing what was coming, and Emily placed her hand on your back gently.

“When? How long? How?!” Garcia questioned.

“Am I missing something?” Luke chimed in.

Garcia spun to him. “Missing something? They’re dating!”

At that moment, Rossi walked in. “Who’s—” he started, but then he saw Emily rubbing your back, “—oh.” He smiled, taking a seat.

“You knew, didn’t you?” She accused Rossi.

He shook his head, holding up his hands. “Not at all,” he said, “but I can’t say I’m surprised.”

You swear you could sense him winking at the two of you, but you didn’t dare look up.

“Well, I am! What—?” Before Garcia could continue her—very enthusiastic—interrogation, JJ stopped her.

“I think you’re scaring her, Penelope,” JJ warned, trying not to laugh at the situation.

“Okay, okay,” she rescinded.

You finally looked up, immediately regretting your decision as you locked eyes with your colleague.

“You guys have to tell me everything later,” she said quickly, “and I mean everything.”

You looked around the room, expecting someone to come to your defence. You were met, however, with some not-so-apologetic looks and a few shoulder shrugs. You shook your head, looking over to an unphased Emily.

“They were gonna find out some time, babe” she offered, patting you gently on the back.

You were never going to hear the end of this.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[exciting-realm-of-wendy]

The Interview- Part Four.

(With pictures).

The lift fed out into a large lobby area. It bore the same colours as the waiting room. If Traci had not thought better, she would have sworn that they had walked a circle and returned to the waiting room.

But, no. This lobby was distinctly different in that, at the far end was a set of large double doors.

Lulu walked over to a wall. There was a panel into which she typed a code. Only then did Traci notice that there were panels all around the lobby; panels similar in size and shape to those she had seen along the corridor.

These depicted the same portraits of gold eye-mask wearing shadowed people.

Whilst Lulu was engaged, Traci - forever fearful of making a good professional impression, even in an examination hall - noted a floor to ceiling mirror. She had no inclination that from the other side, she was being watched and scrutinised. She took the opportunity to ensure she looked her best.

"Yes, your waist-length hair looks so much better in that sweet little hair clasp. So beautiful how it hangs down. I am so glad now that I wore the pencil skirt. It looks so professional and matched so much better with good dependable court shoes. Best to wear flats than make a fool of myself tottering in heels." Those behind the mirror watched as she smoothed her hands over her jacket and down over her pencil skirt. "Mmmm...you look so professional."

"Look closely, Ms. Lord. Tell me what you see."

Not sure as to why ask the sheer obvious, but aware from her help-guide on interview technique that often an interview is not just the face to face interrogation across a business desk in a frightening office, but also can be the pre-amble leading up to such an inquisition, she replied: "People, in shadow, wearing masks".

With obvious disappointment, even fear of failure on Lulu's face, she called, in a deflated tone, "Come this way, Ms. Lord. The examination is about to commence."

Traci stood rigid, fearful. "Examination?"

Lulu moved back to Traci, taking her by a hand. "You have nothing to worry about, Ms. Lord. It is a regular part of all our interviews. It should have said it in the letter we sent you. You are applying for a secretarial post. The examination is just to test the secretarial skills you have; more efficient than trying to cover this in the interview. The interview has more..." Lulu paused, "...stimulating means by which to...get to", she paused again, "...know you".

Traci had read the letter inviting her to interview over a dozen times. No where did it state an examination. She was not ready...she would fail...she would be no good. However, what could she do now? Challenge Lulu about the non-existant mention of an examination? That would really help her success: holding an argument midway through. She re-called how her interview guide, the book she had avidly read, taught her to respond to every negative thing in a positive professional way; to not challenge obvious mistakes, but see them as opportunities.

Traci smiled faintly back.

Lulu took Traci to the door. "Well, this is where I leave you for now, my dear. " She gave Traci a comforting hug. Traci felt their breasts pushed against one another, the warmth of Lulu's lithe body comforting her. Lulu kissed her fleetingly on the cheek, whispered "p**** activate" into Traci's ear and let her go.

As Traci pushed the door open, she felt a re-assuring hand of Lulu, on her back...no, thought Traci... no, that's on my bum. No it cannot be, I am nervous and confused. "Taste you later," called out Lulu and was gone.

Confused, Traci paused from pushing the door. "Did she say that? No, you silly girl, she cannot have said that. It is just my nerves and how I want to..."

She was unable to finish her thought.

Pulling the door fully open was another Chinese girl. She had startled Traci by opening the door from the inside fully. Before Traci could say anything to excuse her embarrassment of standing frozen for so long in thought by the door, she took in the beautiful sight before her.

The young woman wore a faun waistcoat, so expertly cut around the bust, as to frame and emphasise the woman's delightful breasts. A faun mini skirt flowed over generous hips.

"My name is Wai Lynn. Please you step this way. It is Ms. Lord, isn't it?"

"Y..y..yes..Yes, it is...sorry, I did not..." Traci stumbled through her confusion of what Lulu may or may not have said, of the hand that may or may not have been on her bum...and now the sheer elegance of this new beauty.

Wai Lynn directed her over to what looked like an airport security x-ray machine. Wai Lynn explained that the company required all examinees to remove anything that could cause cheating. So the machine was to test for any such objects. Traci was made to remove her watch, ear-rings and necklace. Traci said that was odd, "Unfortunately, our machine is highly sensitive, so many apologies".

Traci entered the portal, nervously. Of course, the machine was nothing of the sort, instead it turned the radio control of the Love Egg, secreted within Traci, on.

At the end of the portal, Wai Lynn joined Traci, handing back her necklace and ear-rings. As watches can be used to cheat, Wai Lynn informed Traci that it would be returned to her after the examination. Subtly altered, unbeknownst to Traci.

Wai Lynn opened a door and ushered the frightened Traci into the examination room.

Traci's breath was taken away. It must have held at least two hundred examination desks and chairs. Half were filled. She joined the end of the queue of other - what she assumed - candidates.

With a dozen staff dressed like Wai Lynn, Traci was finally guided to a specific desk and seat. Everyone was to be seated at precise desks. Some people, like Traci, had come for job interviews, but for the majority, they were here to receive further conditioning.

At the far end, a stage, once everyone was sat, lights came on over the stage, revealing a woman in a black dress and white thigh length boots. She introduced herself as the inquisitor. Her voice was picked up by unseen microphones and emitted from speakers over each desk. She explained to the candidates as to why they were all here, what was expected of them; as well as the types and duration of the examination. Firmly, she spoke of any failure to follow instruction would be punished severely, that she and her invigilators will be on hand to assist but also on hand to punish.

"What sort of attitude is that?" Thought Traci. "When I was at school, taking my 'O' and 'A' levels, invigilators never punished candidates".

The Inquisitor instructed everyone that their individual assignments were on the desks in front of them, all instructions were there also. "...So starting from when the clock reaches the hour..." Here she paused, watching the hand of the clock move gradually closer to the hour. The clock itself was large and could be discerned by everyone in the examination room. Reaching the hour, "...now you may begin".

Traci, feeling a pool of cold nervous sweat, looked down at her desk for the first time. There was a question paper, answer paper and set of pencils. What surprised her was a set of headphones. Ignoring these for the moment, she read the instructions of the examination paper. She discovered that the first task was dictation. Immediately she relaxed. She had come top at her secretarial college for dictation. "That must be why there were headphones. I am supposed to listen and write down in short-hand what is said. " She read on. Finding that she was right, she put the headphones comfortably over her head and adjusted them to fit correctly over her ears.

The examination paper guided her to press a switch on the desk when Traci was ready.

A lilting, beautiful flowing voice, sounded though the headphones. Traci felt as if she had heard the voice before. Instinctively she squeezed her thighs together, feeling a slight but comforting vibration. Taking up a pencil she listened hard to the voice, then began to write.

...

Traci was again in the examination hall. She was suddenly aware of her surroundings again and the paper in front of her. On the answer paper, she noted she has started her notes, but had oddly trailled off into gibberish, the odd word like 'slut' 'obedience' 'obey' 'Lulu' 'lick' here and there.

Ashamed at how her attention had obviously drifted off. ( "I must have been thinking about Lulu, and her gorgeous bum...oh, how unprofessional" she admonished herself), she tore and scrumpled up the answer paper and started again. She nervously looked at clock. To her amazement it was just on the hour. "It has just started. The examination has just started. What a relief. I must pay better attention and not keep wandering off thinking of Lulu".

She pressed the button to start, and settled down again.

...

She realised she was in the examination room. She looked at the clock. "Good. We have not started yet".

As Traci looked intently at the clock, awaiting the examination to start ("Oh, how I simply love examinations".) She noticed maids with canteen trollies moving up and down each aisle of examination desks. Traci's eyes grew wide at the way each maid was deliciously dressed. One was slowly walking up her aisle towards Ms. Lord.

"And what delicacy can I interest you with, Ms. Lord?" Traci realised she had been staring at this new beauty and suddenly focused, "Sorry...what?"

The girl leaned down, close to Traci. Traci breathed in her delicate scent. "What delicacy may I open to you, Mon cheri?" The maid inquired again.

"T...t...err...tea, please", answered Traci swallowing hard and feeling the maid's hand brushing her inner thigh.

Removing her hand, the maid inserted a finger into her mouth "You taste sweet, Mon cheri. I give you the best tea". The maid bent over her trolley and set about arranging the tea. Traci looked away, embarrassed the maid's bum was so close. She saw other maids attending to others in similar fashion. One or two maids' heads bobbing up and down. She noted that, as some form of reward, the examinees cupped the maids' bums. Looking back to the maid attending her, Traci was startled to find her own hand exploring the maid's bum. She felt a jolt of electricity flow down her arm and centre itself between her clenching thighs. Standing, the maid placed a cup of tea on Traci's desk, smiled and walked away, leaving Traci with lingering eyes on her departure.

The tea was as she had in the waiting room. Sipping, Traci re-focused on the clock. As it reached the hour she began.

...

As the clock reached the hour, Traci began.

...

As the clock reached the hour, Traci began.

...

She looked around the examination hall. Traci noted she had not started her tea. She sipped the hot liquid. She noted that her neck was cold. Thinking about it she also realised that there was less weight, as if something heavy had been removed from her head. Absent-mindedly she put her hand to stroke her long raven hair, only to discover it had artfully been cut and shaped into a bob.

"That's odd. I have almost waist length hair." She said thinking. A thought rose from the foggy hazy mind. "How silly. Oh course! I had it cut especially for this interview. I wanted a look that would stop my hair getting in the way when I suck c...No, I had it cut to look professional. Yes, yes, that's it. I had it cut short to look professional. Now where did I go for the new look?" Out of the haze Traci struggled to pin down the salon, or even the town she went to especially. From the mist, her thoughts could just discern a team of beauticians cutting her hair and..."Yes, what the hell. I remember I asked them to sort out my bikini line whilst they were there too". The soft vibrations of the Love Egg seemed to validate her thoughts.

With the clock reaching the hour, she pressed the start button on her desk and commenced the examination.

...

Traci became aware of the examination room as she reached the end of the paper. About to sip her cup of untouched tea, Traci felt she tasted something salty. Putting her hand to her mouth, she felt some sort of gel or something on her lips. Sucking her fingers clean, she felt her jaw aching slightly. She rubbed it and wondered what she must have been eating before coming here to-day.

Extracting a tissue from her jacket pocket, she noted that the lapels, and even some of her blouse had been wetted by the same sort of gel. "What an unprofessional mess!"

The Inquisitor appeared on the stage again. "Everyone cease. The examination is concluded. Await your invigilators for your departure."

Traci took the opportunity of finishing off the delicious tea. She looked around. The girls either side of her were sat, gently rocking in their chairs, eyes closed, and groans escaping lips that Traci yearned to kiss. Being attracted to watch, Traci did not realise that she had begun to also rock gently, until she felt pleasure grow and vibration increase.

...

"Come this way." Wai Lynn broke through Traci's state. "Goodness. Sorry. My mind has been wandering off so much to-day. It must be my nerves."

"It must be", replied Wai Lynn, motioning Traci to follow. Other candidates were leaving. Traci noted some held gold coloured eye-masks. Suddenly, from the stage, the inquisitor shouted an instruction "deploy masks". Traci, not having any mask looked to those who had.

As each turned to look as if to Traci, they donned their masks and instantly disappeared from Traci's perception.

Back in the lobby, Lulu Chu greeted Traci. As Traci followed the shapely swell of Lulu's swaying bum, Traci was grateful that she had decided to change her shoes from professional looking flats to vertiginous high heels that morning, and to make her even more professional, had opted for a micro skirt to ride across her own shapely bum, rather than wear that awful pencil skirt.

"What do you think of the artwork, Ms. Lord?" Said Lulu, pointing to the lobby art she had shown Traci earlier (art of shadowed individuals wearing gold eye-masks.)

"What art? These are just blank panels", replied the assured Traci, enjoying the movement of the Love Egg as they both re-entered the lift. Lulu smiled the smile of success. Traci no longer perceived anyone wearing gold eye-masks. Lulu activated her tiny microphone, "Mistress, examination a success. I repeated examination a success".

As the lift doors drew closed, Lulu donned her gold eye-mask and pulled Traci to her.

Next part: the interview.

[alpali]

Hi hi Ali, congratulations on 700 followers! Your writing is so good I'm glad people are appreciating it (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

May I ask something for your event?

If yes, may I have Atsumu and the trope "singing your favorite lovesong to them as if you are truly dedicating the song to them"? I thought the trope is super cute and a bit of yearning is always endearing. If it's ok, a drabble would be good

Once again, congratulations 💙

Having a roommate who was tall hot and cocky was definitely a challenge. You had applied for the room since he lived close to your campus and at first he was very respectful, no boundaries crossed, very much a gentleman.

However when the two of you grew closer, maybe even blurring the lines between friends or lovers, his goofy side made an appearance. He was loud, a baby, flirtatious, inappropriate. You always replied with a playful roll of your eyes, indulging in his dumb banter.

Lazy early mornings were a regular for the two of you. You’d wake up, get breakfast started and Atsumu would come strolling in, half asleep. You hand him his mug, all apart of this routine. He leans against the counter watching you with a soft smile.

You gasp when your favorite song plays through the speaker. You immediately start humming, swaying your hips. Atsumu breathes out a laugh. You look so cute and so domestic with nothing but your oversized shirt and shorts. Yet you take him by surprise when you whip around, holding the spatula and walking towards him and singing.

“Oh—I wanna take two, I wanna break through—I wanna know the real thing about you, so I can see you in a new light~”

You push his mug to the side, forcing him to dance with you. He looks amused, staring down at you with adoration.

“What is this hm?”

You don’t answer, only singing more.

“Oh~ we can go far from here and make a new world together babe.”

He grins, which you can only guess was due to the pet name.

“Cause if you give me just one night, you’re gonna see me in a new light.”

He doesn’t say anything else, letting you lead him as you both sway away in the kitchen. Food, his mug, your spatula, all of it forgotten. At some point his hands had ended up in your waist and your hands on his shoulders. He twirls you around solely because he loved the way you smiled when he did. He pulls you against him but you’re not done just yet.

“What do I do with all this—what do I do with all this, this love that’s running through my veins for you.”

This couldn’t just be you singing right?

This had to have meant something.

It was all getting to him. The you looked at him with your doe eyes. He couldn’t ignore the way you looked so happy and he tells himself he doesn’t want to see you any different. When the song finally dies out, you giggle against him. He smiles down at you lovingly, fixing your hair.

“Yer so cute.” He smiles, he so badly wanted to kiss you.

You guys were so close anyways, this all felt so intimate but god he didn’t care. He loved every second of this and he didn’t want any of it to end. You laugh, patting at his chest.

“I love that song so much. You should be happy I sang it to you.” You tease and he throws his head back with a laugh.

“Ya sayin I’m special?” He quirks a brow and you roll your eyes.

“Sure—‘sumu.” You slide off of him, turning off the stove.

“Well I’d say yer in love with me after that kind of performance.” You smile to yourself, serving him food.

“And if I am?” He’s taken aback, his cheeks flushing red.

“Yer gonna kill me ya know.” You giggle again, taking a bite of your food.

“But I’d say that I’m in love with ya too.” He smirks, glancing at you for your reaction. You blush as well, moving your food around.

“Are you asking me out Miya?”

“I liked babe better.” He steps closer, he slides a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“If it means I get more mornin’s like this, then yea I am.” His fingers twirl around your hair.

“Take me out at least.” You sigh dramatically and he laughs, leaning closer.

“Let me kiss ya first.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Says the one who just sang a whole love song f’me.” He grins, unmoving.

“Fine, just one.” You hold up your finger.

It was indeed not one.

Because Atsumu had been waiting for this moment and he wasn’t gonna let it go to waste.

[hoe4almondmilk]

Acquiescence

Thranduil x Reader x Feren

Warnings: ⛔️MINORS DNI⛔️ SMUT! Language (duh), P in V sex, Voyeurism, Threesome, Double penetration, Rough Sex, Freak nasty sex, Dom/Sub, Master/Pet, MFM, Porn without Plot. Summary: Thranduil wants to reward his loyal guard with a “gift”. Word count: Almost 2.8K a/n: I have no words for this chaotic hot mess of a story haha. Lock me up in horny jail.

Thranduil chuckled as he wiped the excess juices from the strawberry off your pretty lips. “Careful, Pet. We just had this dress made for you, it’s fine silk.” Thranduil said.

“Yes, my Lord.” You giggled as you sat in your master’s lap as he sat on his large throne. “I shall be more careful.”

Your master was in a regular meeting with his head guard, Feren, discussing plans regarding the growing threat of spiders coming from Mirkwood. Feren couldn’t help but stare as he watched Thranduil's large hands roam over your body. One hand occasionally caressed your rear. His eyes watched intently as your lips curled around the fruit you were eating. He observed how the tiny dribble of juice traveled from your mouth further down your chin. His mind imagined the most impure thoughts. All he could think of was what it would be like if it were his seed spilling out of your mouth. 

“Feren?” Thranduil’s voice jolted the guard from his thoughts.

“Yes, my Lord?” Feren replied, and you could hear the panic coating his voice. Feren cursed himself for looking at you so shamelessly. He was usually much better at stealing quick glances at you when Thranduil wasn’t paying attention, or so he thought.   

“Did you hear me?” Thranduil’s cool voice sent a shiver down Feren’s spine. Thranduil smirked, aware that Feren hadn’t heard a single word he said. Thranduil knew where Feren’s eyes were, more specifically, on whom they were fixed on. 

Before Feren could answer, Thranduil let out a chuckle. “Pet, go get ready for dinner.” Thanrduil instructed as he cupped your face. His thumb gently stroking your face. “We have much more to discuss and I don’t want you bored.”

You obediently nodded, “Of course, my lord.” You gave Thranduil a peck on the lips before you got off his lap to leave. “Bye, Feren.” You flashed a smile at the guard as you exited the large throne room. Thranduil waited to hear the slam of the large doors to continue. 

There was a brief moment of silence before Thranduil spoke. “She’s exquisite, isn’t she?” Thranduil stood as he stepped down from his throne. “A mortal whose beauty outshines even an Elleth.” 

“I’m not sure what to say, my lord.” Feren replied nervously. He wondered where Thranduil was going with this. 

“It is fruitless to lie to me, Feren. Considering how long we’ve known each other.” Thranduil said as he sauntered over to Feren. Thranduil’s icy gray eyes met Feren’s as he stood before him. “I’ve seen the way you look at her.” 

“My lord, I am so-” Before Feren could muster an apology, the King interrupted him. 

“I am not angry with you, Feren. Do not apologize.” Thranduil smiled. “You know, I worry about you.” Thranduil spoke as he slowly paced.

Feren let out a chuckle. “My lord, you shouldn’t. Much more important things to worry about.”

“Feren, you have served me since I became King.” Thranduil objected. “I know the sacrifices you have made to do so.” Thranduil understood how consuming a job like this could be. Feren was the best and undertook it without complaints. Thranduil also recognized what Feren had sacrificed to fulfill this role. Feren hadn’t married yet, and with such a taxing job, he wouldn’t have the time to meet an Elleth to marry. “I know the desires you have, Mellon. I see the way you look at her.” Thanduil spoke nearly in a whisper as he stood directly opposite Feren. 

Thranduil was portrayed as cold and heartless; however, while he had his moments, he genuinely cared about his people and their well-being, particularly those who worked for him, like Feren, who gave up their lives to ensure Thranduil and the Elves of Mirkwood remained safe. 

Feren’s heart was pounding against his chest, unsure of where Thranduil was going with all of this. “What are you alluding to, my Lord?” He asked nervously. 

“I’m going to give you a gift you will not be able to deny.” Thranduil smirked.

“My Lord, I-” As Feren prepared to protest, the Elven King interrupted him. 

“You can and you will.” Thranduil retorted.  “You will meet me after dinner in the east wing guest room chambers.” Thranduil said cooly as he dismissed Feren. 

Feren, terrified and also incredibly curious as to what the King meant by all of this, nodded his head before he left. It’s not as if he’s really allowed to disobey Thranduil.  

Thranduil made his way to you before dinner to ask you about his “gift” to Feren. Thranduil knew it would take no convincing to do this for him. He knew you would do anything to please him. Such a good pet you were. 

After dinner, Feren made his way to the guest quarters. The only sound echoing through the hallways was the steady beating of his heart. He knocked firmly on the door until he heard Thranduil's baritone voice inviting him to enter. The room was dimly lit, with the flickering reddish glow of the fireplace as the only source of light. Thranduil sat in a chair facing the bed, and what was on the bed made Feren's heart skip a beat—more specifically, who was on the bed.

You sat on the plush bed in a short babydoll chemise that was sheer enough to leave little to the imagination. Feren could immediately feel the heat rising to his pale cheeks. He quickly looked away, turning back to Thranduil. Thranduil chuckled in his seat, enjoying Feren’s reaction to you. “I told you. She’s exquisite,” said Thranduil. “Feren, (y/n) wants to show you her appreciation for taking such good care of me. Isn’t that right, Pet?” Thranduil asked you. 

Feren looked over at you, nodding gently and offering a soft smile. He then glanced back at Thranduil. “Appreciation?” Feren asked, his mind racing with corrupt thoughts as he considered what the two of you had conjured up. 

Feren would be a liar if he were to say he hadn’t fantasized about you. He fantasized about him taking care of you during the rare occasions when Thranduil left for business and had to leave you behind in the safe sanctuary of the castle. He pictured replacing your fingers that you used to pleasure yourself with his. Feren remembered one night when he came close to kissing you. It was the very first time Thranduil had to leave you; he had to meet Elrond in Rivendell. You had cried the whole night. Feren comforted you, and you hugged him. You had looked up at him with your beautiful, bright eyes. He held your face and wiped away your tears. For a split second, he thought about kissing you. 

Thranduil’s normally bright silver eyes had almost a dark wash over them. “She wants to take care of you the way she does her King. Tonight, I will share her with you, mellon nín.” 

Feren’s eyes widened at Thranduil’s proposition. Thranduil noticed Feren’s shocked look. “You can do whatever you want to her as long as you don’t leave a single mark on her skin or spill your seed into her.” 

Feren nodded as he slowly walked over to you on the bed. One would think this is a setup, but that’s not who Thranduil was. Feren knew that and trusted him. 

You flashed him a coy smile of invitation when he approached the bed. Feren smiled back at you; he cupped your face in his hand. His free hand slowly unlaced the ribbon that held the top of your chemise together. Feren slowly lifted the thin fabric off you. You could feel goosebumps form on your skin as the cool breeze slowly crept onto you. Feren paused for a moment to drink in your form. You stood on your knees to give him a better look at you. His eyes stared at your exposed, now naked body. You could feel your cheeks redden at the attention from both eyes looking at you. “Beautiful, is she not?” Thranduil cooed, almost bragging.

“Very.” Feren chuckled in agreement as he brought both of his large hands up to your chest. His hands began to knead your breasts. You let out a gasp as you felt his fingers toy with your now hardened nipples. You let out a whine as you felt Feren give your lips a kiss and slowly make their way down your neck to your chest. The tall Elf lowered himself so his mouth could attach itself to one of your breasts. You bit your lip as you watched his tongue flicker one of your nipples. Feren stood back up and cupped your face into his hands, and pulled you into a kiss. He hummed softly as your soft lips massaged his. Your lips were plush and silky. Feren had kissed plenty of Elleths in the past, but it didn’t feel like this. You possessed a warmth that seemed to be unique to humans. Feren’s hands moved to your hair and gently fisted themselves into your locks. You moaned as you felt Feren’s tongue enter your mouth, his tongue tangled with yours. You could feel the heat getting warmer as the kiss deepened. You broke the kiss, and your hands immediately went to unlace his trousers. One of Feren’s hands went to pet your head, trying to get your hair out of your face. 

“Slowly, Pet. You want him to enjoy this.” Thranduil purred. 

Feren was engrossed in the moment; he almost forgot Thranduil was still watching. You nodded as you pulled Feren’s already hard member out of his trousers. Giving him a couple of smooth strokes before you gave the tip a kiss. Feren moaned at the feeling of your soft lips kissing him there, and slowly feeling himself sink into your warm, wet mouth. His hand, which was tangled in your hair, slowly helped guide you as your head bobbed. “So beautiful.” Feren managed to groan out as he watched your mouth devour his hard cock. He almost burst when you made eye contact with him. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked him off. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were the crackling of the fireplace, the guard’s moans and the slurping sound of your mouth on his cock. You moaned as you could feel the salty taste of his precum mixing with your saliva. He tasted good, although not as good as your master’s seed in your mouth. “Oh, I do not know how much longer I can go if you continue on.” Feren stuttered. You slowly pulled your mouth off of him, sucking up as much of his cock before you let him free with a pop sound. 

You let out a surprised gasp as you felt him immediately push your body down onto the bed as he kissed you once more. Now lie down on your back. You moaned as his mouth slowly trailed down your stomach. Feren pulled you closer to the edge of the bed now as he kneeled on the floor. You let out a moan as you felt him kiss your heat. His tongue swiped across your folds as he began to lap up your wetness. Feren pulled your legs onto his shoulders as he began to tongue fuck you. You cried as you felt his warm tongue enter your pussy. Your head turned to look over at Thranduil. He smiled at you while he rubbed himself through his trousers. 

Thranduil was more than enjoying what he was seeing, and it was absolutely noticeable. There was something about watching someone pleasure you the way he did. Watching someone absolutely worship you. As possessive as he could be, there was absolutely nothing he loved more than seeing you be happy. You deserved that and more. 

You let out a whimper of pleasure when Feren’s mouth attached to your clit and finger fucked you. The sound of his fingers pumping in and out of your wetness fueled him. Hearing you beg for release turned him on even more. You tried to form a sentence begging him for more, but your words were incoherent.

You could hear Thranduil say something to Feren in Elvish. Your Elvish wasn’t good enough to make sense of it. It wasn’t until you felt Feren curl his fingers inside you, hitting your spongy spot, that you realized what they were saying. Noticing how close you were Feren attached his mouth back on your pussy as he tasted your release. You cried out as the pleasure washed over your body. Feren gave you a moment of recovery. He kissed you again before he flipped you over on all fours. You arched your back perfectly for him as you assumed the position. He slowly teased you as he rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds, before he slowly pushed himself inside you. He let out almost a feral moan as he felt himself be fully engulfed by your tight pussy. He let out a curse in Elvish as he slowly began to thrust into you. His hands were tight on your waist. You cried into the sheets of the bed as you felt his large member slide in and out. He wasn’t as large as your master, but he was still large in size. You should’ve expected it, especially since all of the Elves are so tall. Feren grunted as he began to relentlessly pound into your tight heat, his cock dragged itself into your wet walls. His hips hitting bouncing off of your plump ass created a clapping noise. Your hands fisted into tight balls as you gripped the fabric of the bed, holding on for dear life. You could feel how desperate he was, you could feel his need as he impaled you with his hard cock. You were so lost in pleasure you almost didn’t notice a hand fisting your hair. You felt the hand pull your head up by your hair to see Thranduil standing in front of you on the opposite side of the bed. You looked up at him with wanton eyes as Feren continued to pound into you. 

“Can the King’s sweet pet handle another?” Thranduil cooed as his other hand slowly pumped his hard cock. You nodded as you opened you presented your mouth for fucking to your King. “Good girl.” Thranduil praised as he entered his cock into your mouth. He moaned as he felt your mouth take him with ease. His hand guided your head as he fucked your mouth.

 Feren’s pounding into your pussy helped ricochet as Thranduil fucked your mouth. You felt Feren’s hand sneak over to your cunt and begin to rub your clit again sending you into overdrive. Your moans vibrated off Thranduil’s thick cock. You could feel your strings loosen up again and feel yourself drifting off into oblivion once again. The feel of your cunt convulsing caused Feren’s orgasm to come close as his thrusts in you grew sloppier. Feren quickly pulled out of you and spilled his seed onto the sheets. He laid there for a moment as he caught his breath.

Thranduil pulled himself out of your mouth and picked you up into his arms. Placing a gentle kiss on your lips. He laid you back down on the bed on your back. Feren still next to you. Thranduil laid on top of you. He placed a deep kiss onto your lips before sliding himself into your dripping wet cunt. You moaned at the sensation of him filling you up. Thranduil cupped your face with his hand; he stroked your cheek with every thrust. His silver eyes stared into yours, not breaking eye contact. “Give me one more, Meleth. I know you have one more in you.” He whispered hot and heavy into your ear. He peppered kisses along your jawline. You gave in to the feeling and let go. Your orgasm washing over you one final time. Thranduil continued thrusting into your already overstimulated pussy, as he came closing in on his orgasm. Thranduil grunted your name as he finished inside of you. His hot, white seed filled the deepest part of you. Thranduil placed a deep kiss on your lips, the two of you whispering, "I love you," to each other.  You smiled as you felt Feren plant a couple of kisses on your hand. Thanking you and Thranduil. 

Later that night, your King drew a warm bath for the two of you as he bathed and pampered you. Reminding you how much he loved you.

[orchidsarchives]

I am kinda curious

What would Jason be like if the coffee Cafe owner!reader built in a small library in her Cafe just for him,like she saw he liked reading and went like 'yup. I am building a small library for him'

This is such a fun idea, but omg please forgive me, I went a little overboard. Once I figured out what to write, I couldn’t stop. I apologize for how long it is. But omg also, I was literally kicking my feet and giggling writing the end lol, Anyways enjoy!

Owning a cafe was a difficult job, there was always much to do— customers to attend to, drinks to make, and maintenance to do. You were always busy, but you loved your job.

You had spent a lot of time curating the perfect atmosphere for your beloved customers. The lighting was warm, with fairy lights and lanterns dangling from the ceiling. There was wooden furniture and two old couches that sat by the glass windows. The tiny space smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet bread. The cafe was always inviting. 

You had many regulars at the coffee shop, each one with their own story, a different purpose.

For the past six months, twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday morning, a tall man walked in. Jason, you recalled his name from the many times you prepared his drinks. He’d order the same thing every time, a small London fog and a walnut banana bread.

He’d sit at the table nearest to the entrance, his back never towards the door.

Every morning, he’d come in with a new book. You had seen him read Franz Kafka, Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen; he’d read a lot of Austen.

He was a mystery and you wanted to know more. 

You found Jason quite handsome. His skin was scattered with scars and you often found yourself staring at the permanent wound near his lips. You wanted to run your fingers along it, to trace it, to kiss it. 

His eyes were always kind, a deep shade of green, forest-like you’d think to yourself. 

He spoke with kindness. His voice velvety and rich, much like the espresso you’d brew everyday, except his voice was never bitter, almost always doused with honey. 

Sometimes you’d catch him looking over at the counter, at you, you’d hoped. 

Your coworkers were afraid of him, telling you to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was like an enticing book, waiting to be read. They’d warn you, “do not engage in too much conversation with the strange man.” But it was as if they were talking to a small child, their words would go in one ear and out the other.

“Strange,” you would never use that word to describe him.

From the small talk you had with him, to his choice in books, to even his taste in tea, you’d never describe him as strange.

Gentle was the word you’d choose.

He was huge, all height and muscle, terrifying to most, however to you, he was everything but that. You saw an angel and you didn’t even know him… yet, you’d tell yourself.

There were days, where you almost gained the courage to ask for his number, maybe ask for small detail, perhaps get a glimpse of his life. But each attempt was futile. Why was it so hard to speak to him for more than five minutes, you’d curse your inability to speak to attractive men.

-

You were beginning to give up on your dreams of getting to know the beautiful stranger, when he walked in through door.

The conversation began as per usual.

“Morning Jason, what can I grab you today,” you asked politely. He smiled softly in return and you stare at the scar by his lip as he begins to speak.

“Uhh surprise me,” you look at him confused, he’s never done that before and he finds himself smiling harder. “Just kidding, I’ll just the take the usual please,” he says as he places his copy of Jane Eyre on the counter to take out his wallet.

“Brontë, why am I not surprised,” you reply, gazing at the book. You take the cash from his hands and your heart drops. Shades of purple and crimson coat his skin. They’re bruised, again.

“What can I say, I’m a man of taste,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and giggle.

“Now who told you that,” and he shrugs. Then there’s a lull, you don’t know what to say now. It isn’t awkward, but you find yourself starting feeling a little uneasy. God, if you only you could come up with something else to say. You shake your head slightly and begin to warm up his banana bread.

You turn around and wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t walk away to his usual table this time, instead he takes a seat next to the counter. Odd, you thought.

Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, he watches you in admiration, you don’t quite catch on.

If you thought Jason was handsome, then he thought you belonged in a museum. You were a work of art in his eyes. The kind of beauty they wrote poetry about. Absolutely stunning.

He wanted to get to know you, speak to you, but he was afraid. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, then he may never be able to see you again. The trips to the cafe would no longer be necessary and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

However today, Jason pushes his fears aside, he feels bold. He finds his confidence and he speaks.

“Do you read much,” he asks suddenly. You place his cup of tea and bread in front of him, and nod your head.

“I do, but not what you read,” you reply and he stares into your eyes, curious. “I mostly read magazines, you know Vogue and stuff,” his smile drops a little, he’s trying really hard to not look judgemental. Cute, you think. “Kidding, I read fantasy mostly,” and his face lights up again.

“So like J.K. Rowling,” he questions.

“No, Harry Potter’s good, but I’m not really a fan of her, you know as a person. I’ve been reading a lot Neil Gaiman recently though,” you say.

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s said some pretty crazy stuff huh,” and you nod again. “Gaiman though, I don’t think I’ve ever read his stuff before, he any good,” he asks and your eyes go wide, you’re excited.

You spend the next hour of his visit speaking to him about books, about the things that you both like.

You only part from the conversation when there was a customer.

You’ve never felt this way before, all the assumptions you made about him were true. He was an angel, a kind and gentle one.

-

A month goes by and you notice your relationship with Jason change. Now, instead of sitting by the entrance of the cafe, he sits near you, back against the door. A sign of trust, you assumed. He smiled more, he showed his teeth and he laughed, hard. You loved the sound of his laugh. His eyes looked brighter, greener, emerald-like. He still walked in with a new book, but when the conversation began, it was long forgotten.

You watched his bruises heal and you watched new ones appear, you were always curious, but never had the courage to ask. He’d tell you when he was ready.

As time went by, you found yourself wanting to do something for him, you wanted him to know that you cared. You thought that if your words were going to fail you, then maybe your actions would prove otherwise.

-

Working a closing shift at the cafe on a gloomy Tuesday evening, you find yourself thinking of different gestures you could do.

Ideas came and left, nothing felt good enough. He deserved the best. Trying to busy your mind elsewhere, you begin to sweep the floors and that’s when inspiration hits you.

There, in the coffee shop, lies an empty corner. An odd spot, not necessarily small, but also not large enough either.

A perfect fit for a decently sized bookshelf. A library, for the community, but most importantly for Jason. You smile to yourself, proud at the thought. He’d love this, you knew he would.

The next morning you find yourself drilling holes into the pale walls of the cafe, trying attach the large shelf you lugged down to the shop.

Once everything was fixed into its rightful place, you begin adding the books, by genre and then by the authors’ last names. You add many of Jason’s favourites, multiple copies of Austen. You add children’s books, comics and something for yourself.

The shelf fits right into the ambiance of the cafe, elevating it honestly. The corner looked cosy and you found yourself wanting to sit by one of the couches with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.

You stare at the shelf once more, proud. Now, you just had to wait.

-

Jason walks into the cafe the next day, he’s late. He arrives near closing time. It’s just you and him in the cafe, most of your staff left for the day and not many people stayed this late. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the machines on your side of the counter. He’s holding another book in his hand, but he has no intention of reading tonight.

His hair is slicked back, and there’s a small cut on his forehead. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. He looks like he’s coming back from a big event or maybe he’s going to one later. Either way, he looks pretty like this, his arms look more defined and you can make out the muscles on his back when he walks around the room, waiting for his drink.

His eyes wander around the cafe before settling on the bookshelf nestled in the odd corner. His eyes soften, he’s never noticed that before, it must be new, he thinks.

“When’d you get this,” he asks, his fingers running along the spines of the books. He’s smiling, there’s so many books.

“Yesterday, it’s for you,” you say, holding your breath. This is it, the moment you’ve been preparing for.

“For me,” he looks over at you as you settle his tea on the counter. You begin walking over to his side, slowly, riddled with nerves.

“Yes, since you’re always here, I thought you’d like having a book shelf here. It’s like a library, you take a book and then you-“ he cuts you off suddenly.

“You made a library for me in your cafe, are you serious,” he’s trying to hold back a smile, you can tell. His scar gets more prominent when he does that. “Why,” he as asks, his voice is soft, it feels like warm milk with honey, comforting.

“You’re gonna make me say it,” you can’t see your face, but it feels hot, you can tell you’re blushing.

“Yeah, say it. Why is there a library in your cafe for me,” he says, enunciating the words “your” and “for me.” He’s smirking now. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you.

The point of the library was to not have to say anything, for your actions to speak for you, but here you are. Ears burning and palms clammy.

“I…,” you trail off, you look around the room, anywhere but his face. He notices and walks closer, his hands gently make their way around your waist.

“Say it,” he exclaims, it’s not forceful, he’s smiling and shades of pink dust his cheeks.

You close your eyes shut, fuck, you’re going to have to say it.

“I really like you jas-,” and with that, his lips find their way to your own. You move in harmony, much like matcha and oat milk. His lips are sweet, he tastes like the banana bread, he decided to eat while pacing around the cafe. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, you pull back and smile. You peck his lips. Once where the scar is and once more on the centre. He grins.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you,” he mumbles against your lips, waiting for you to kiss him again.

And you do, you kiss him again and again.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi! I saw your Percy Jackson asks where open and I wanted to send in a request! How would Percy react to a fem reader who is the child of Morpheus the God of dreams? Like I imagine being a child to the God of dreams would make one fall asleep randomly when they are still new to their powers, so how would the scenario play out if perhaps one day reader falls asleep on him during a movie night? Would he stay as still as possible as to not wake her up or would he do something else like gently wake her up/move her? Hopefully I made this detatiled enough but in anyway thank you!!

You were just halfway from dozing off when Percy’s voice brought you from the cusp of a deep sleep to ask:

‘Does your dad look like-‘

‘For the last time Percy no, my dad doesn’t look like Tom Sturridge from The Sandman.’ You replied before he could even finish his question. It wasn’t the first time he asked this question after watching the Netflix show ironically about a man who bore the same name as your godly father, Morpheus, the god of dreams; Something that you now had a bone to pick with Neil Gaiman over.

‘Sooo he doesn’t blow golden sand at people’s faces to make them fall asleep?’ Percy continued to ask but at this point you knew that he was only doing this just to get a rise out of you and also to keep you from falling asleep again.

‘No-will you pack it in, in trying to get some rest from today.’ You said as you lightly smack his arm whilst readjusting your head onto his shoulder for more comfort, already feeling the lull of sleep beckoning you to fall further when Percy once again spoke up.

‘But you already do enough sleeping as it is!’ He cried but tried his hardest not to move too much in fear of agitating you, knowing firsthand how much you hated your sleep being disrupted. ‘And I can’t help that!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’ve been falling asleep at random ever since Morpheus claimed me as his own. It’s almost as though I’ve suddenly developed narcolepsy or something.’ You were still getting use to your powers that for some reason would backfire now and then, causing you to have bouts of almost narcoleptic episodes where you could just be talking to someone then boom; there you were, fast asleep in the strawberry fields or on the sandy dunes of the lake as though it were the most comfortable place known to man.

It worried to everyone to begin with but upon being claimed, it started to make a lot more sense that whenever you did spontaneously fall asleep, it was easier to be accommodated for; letting you sleep because you were mad cranky when woken prematurely. Connor and Travis learnt that the hard way when for an entire week their dreams consisted of being chased by a very angry humanoid goose, as if being chased by a regular goose wasn’t scary enough. Just one of the few perks of being the child of the god who could morph dreams and enter them however he saw fit.

The subject of your tendency to fall asleep at random was soon dropped entirely as you and Percy went back to watching the movie that was already well within it’s third and final act. Well Percy was, you on the other hand…were fast asleep on his shoulder, uncaring of the crook in the neck that you were surly developing from your uncomfortable position. Percy doesn’t notice until he goes to look at you to make a joke on a certain scene but stopped and the words died on his lips as he stared at you adoringly. ‘Why am I not surprised that you’ve fell asleep. Again.’ He says softly to himself as he watched how your grip on his arm would occasionally tighten as though your dream had taken a tonal shift, only to loosen up and relax not a moment after.

Not that I needed my arm or my shoulder anyways. Percy thought to himself as he tried his absolute hardest to stay still for your benefit but he might as well have asked Medusa to make him into stone instead because he was doing such a shit job at not moving at all. It was almost as if all his limbs had minds of their own as they’d move or his fingers would tap against his thigh impatiently as the movie ended and the credits began to appear on screen; With the remote too far for him to reach without waking you up and nothing else to occupy his restless mind, Percy felt as though he was in his own personal hell and heaven, or fields of punishment and Elysium.

For one, he got to admire you as you slept, completely at peace and safe within his presence as you would oftentimes shuffle further into him, making noises of discontent when you thought you felt him move away and tightening your grip; Something he found undeniably adorable as he watched the twitches in your face and tries to guess what kind of dream you were having based off them. Secondly he desperately wanted to move, his brain was telling him to move, but Percy would rather not risk having an angry human sized goose chasing him in his dreams for the next week because he accidentally woke you prematurely from your nap. He knows you wouldn’t do that but in cases like these, it he’d know it be better to be safe and sure then expect special treatment; which upon retrospect sounded a lot worse then getting chased by a human sized goose.

So Percy allows himself the fate of being your makeshift pillow, though not before pressing a kiss to your head, wishing you the sweetest of dreams before inevitably falling asleep himself as he rested his head atop of yours, crook in his neck be damned.

[robo-writing]

helloooo

I’ve recently gotten into call of duty and I make a humble request 🕺

could I have a ghost x afab!reader who’s usually innocent and stuff, but tries to seduce him or something? Take your time!! I love your work

I don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to people saying they love my writing 🥹

His squadmates check up on him occasionally—especially Soap, nosey as he is. For everything that they've gone through together they practically know nothing about Simon, and he likes it this way. Not to say that he doesn't trust them, but because Simon's a solitary creature, nothing more. However, it's surprising to the entire team when he off-handedly mentions that he's picked up a new hobby recently—bird-watching.

Immediately questions are fired off, but much to everyone's annoyance Simon only smiles as he takes another swig of beer. They almost suspect him of lying; he's not. His favorite past-time is making his way to his local haunt—9:00 pm sharp, every Friday—all to watch the pretty little bird behind the bar. He hasn’t missed a day, a regular customer every week for the past three months.

He likes the atmosphere, he likes how no one seems to ask questions about the 6’4 beast that orders his whiskey neat and sits alone in the corner—even more than that, he likes how you greet him with a smile every time he walks through the door.

Adorable really, how you fly about the bar, chirping out orders at the speed of light. More than once he’s had the opportunity to talk to you, and more than once have you averted your eyes from him, made yourself busy in hopes that you could hide the obvious attraction written on your face.

It never works, but he likes that about you.

He likes how you stumble over your words, how you meekly offer him a refill once his glass is empty, how your face lights up when he purposely lets his fingers touch your own when you set down a new glass. It's easy to let his mind wander knowing how easily riled up you are, and let it wander he does. Sensitive little birdy, he thinks to himself. Wonder how you'd react if his fingers were stroking your clit instead.

His pretty little birdie, shy little thing you are. So shy that you can’t bring yourself to express your little crush with words, but it’s alright—he knows—and he's willing to play this game for as long as you want it to go on. He's a patient man. It's February now, and it seems as if you're ready for this game to end. Among the red streamers and paper hearts that decorate the bar is you, and the cute red set you're so excited to show him. "I got the boss to sign off on it, see?" You ramble excitedly, stepping away for a single moment to show off your low-cut top and jeans to match. "Isn't it so cute?" He's the only one that gets this special treatment, the sight of you doing a 360 almost enough to make him reach across the bar. "Mhm," he agrees, far too engrossed in the shape of your ass than the color of your outfit. "Y'look amazing birdie." You bow your head in embarrassment at the nickname, unable to see how Simon's lips curl upward in response. "How am I supposed to react when you say things like that..." "It's a compliment. I don't say shit I don't mean." Again, you feel your face heat up at the implication, surprising yourself with a sudden burst of confidence. "You really mean that, don't you?" "I do. You think I don't?" "I think you're a flirt," you reply, the timbre of his voice sending shivers up your spine when he answers— "I'd be more than happy to prove just how honest I am, birdie." The look he sends you is nothing short of a promise, eyes boring into your own as he takes a sip. He knows, and you're willing to guess that he's known for a while based how how quick he is to laugh at your befuddled expression. "That's—I mean—" He sets his glass down slowly, tilting his head towards you. "Am I reading something wrong here?" You stumble over your words, barely muttering out a meek little "no" under your breath as he leans in close, enough to smell the liquor on his breath. "So, if I ain't wrong, feel free to meet me in the back after closing. I'd hate for you to think I'm a liar." Hours later, he found the answer to the question of how you'd react with his fingers against your clit—turns out you're even more sensitive than he imagined.

[sirfrogsworth]

I had a doctor's appointment today. I'm retesting my testosterone to see if I have made any progress in raising my levels to a normal range. I'll find out in a few days. I may still have to do the shots, but hopefully that will be much easier once I wean off my medication—however long that takes.

I no longer have crazy hot flashes. So I am pleased about that. And my libido seems to be making a comeback. Which is kind of annoying considering how tired I am as I recover. But it is a good sign this is working.

After my appointment I decided to go to Sam's. Groceries are so damn expensive right now and my stupid diet is largely consisting of eggs. So I thought I could save some money on delivery fees and get some bulk pricing.

My two main concerns were eggs and cheese. As they are the most expensive items at the regular grocery store.

I get to the cheese aisle and it is empty.

And when I say empty, I don't mean my brand of cheese was out of stock.

I mean the *entire* refrigerated section was EMPTY.

I asked an employee where the cheese was and he replied, "Oh, we had to throw it all away."

Wut?

I guess there was some kind of power outage recently and they couldn't risk selling any of the food in the refrigerated sections.

Fuuuuuuuck.

There is no way I'm going to have the energy to go back any time soon. At least I got eggs. 90 freaking eggs. Saved about $15 just in eggs. So that is something.

My favorite thing at Sam's is the sushi. I've tried a couple of sushi restaurants now and I actually prefer the Sam's sushi. I've told this story before, but there is an old Japanese man that makes the sushi. And I tried to tell him thank you for making the sushi. I went on and on about how much I loved it. And he just nodded and smiled at me. It wasn't until I was done speaking and walking away that I realized he had no clue what I was saying.

But there is now a second Japanese sushi guy!

He is much younger and he said, "Hello, how are you?" as I approached. He had a thick accent but his English sounded pretty good. So I tried again to relay how much I enjoyed the sushi and how it was my favorite thing. He nodded and smiled for a while and I was like, "Oh no, not again. He just learned how to say one phrase!"

But when I finished he said, "Thank you very much! That is so kind."

Shwew.

Mission accomplished.

I kinda wonder if that was the old guy's son or something.

NO FUCKING CHEEEEEESE ARE YOU KIDDING ME GODDAMMIT.

[unlikeable-female-character]

Old Man Logan x Nurse!Reader - the fight

to be honest, the nurse! part of nurse!reader has somewhat fallen by the wayside, but I am still having a lot of fun writing these two. Again, I appreciate that Logan is probably acting hugely out of character but I hope that there is enough of him in there for people to recognise.

No smut in this one, but they do have a bit of a falling out.

other warnings: mentions of pregnancy, implied suicide attempts, implied unprotected sex, Logan getting slapped, implied alcoholism, angst

****

‘Do you think you might be?’ You were in your bathroom, sitting on the toilet with your feet up on the seat, your knees hugged tightly to your chest. Logan was perched on the side of the bath, both of you staring at the unopened pregnancy test sitting on the vanity like it was an unexploded bomb. It might as well be. You shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve always been pretty regular and we’ve been careful….’ You stopped and looked at Logan. He had the decency to look sheepish. ‘Yeah well maybe not so careful…’ you muttered. Logan put his head in his hands ‘And it’s not like your birthday was the only time lately either,’ he said.

You couldn’t explain it. Yes you had been careless when you fucked after your birthday meal but that had been a spur of the moment thing. Aside from the first time you slept together, which had been nearly two years ago, Logan had always come well prepared with condoms. After your birthday however, you’d both become a little more relaxed, reckless even. Maybe this was something you both wanted, without ever really discussing it. Or maybe you just really liked how it felt when Logan came inside you.

‘No,’ you said shaking your head, ‘work is stressful right now. We’re understaffed and management is being a pain in my ass. That’s probably why I’m late’ Logan nodded, eye flicking to the test ‘You’re not convinced?’ ‘You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself, sweetheart,’ he said You shrugged again and let out a weak laugh. ‘Maybe I am.’ Logan reached out and picked up the box. ‘There’s only one way to really know,’ he said. You sighed. Of course there was. You took the test from him and opened the box. ‘Do you want me to stay?’ ‘Do you want to watch me peeing?’ You asked quirking a brow at him. Logan smiled a little. ‘Baby, you barged in on me when I was taking a shit the other day so you could show me something online. I’m pretty sure we’re way past being embarrassed about this stuff’ He watched as you went red remembering the incident. He put his hand on your cheek and you leaned into it. ‘I’ll wait in the bedroom,’ he said kissing you on the forehead.

Logan was lying back on your bed when you finally entered the room. He sat up when he saw you and patted the bed next to him. ‘Well?’ You didn’t say anything, just handed him the test. Not Pregnant. Clear as day. By some miracle all that unprotected sex had not produced a little Logan. It felt like hours, days, empires fell before either of you spoke. ‘How do you feel?’ Logan asked , reaching out and taking your hand. You rested your head on his shoulder. ‘Relieved,’ you replied, ‘dumb for being so reckless. I’m going to the store and buying the biggest pack condoms I can find’ Logan chuckled and slipped his hand into yours. ‘Whatever you say, sweetheart.’

Your period started the afternoon of the next day.

So Logan was confused when he walked into your kitchen a few days after that to find you sitting at the table, sobbing your heart out. ‘Hey..hey darlin’ what’s wrong?’ Logan crouched beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. ‘I don’t know..’ you sobbed, ‘I was just sat here thinking about the other day and I just couldn’t stop myself.’ You looked up at Logan, your eyes red, tears still steaming down your cheeks. ‘I think I’m disappointed’ Logan sat back on his heels and let out a small huff of breath ‘Disappointed? That you weren’t pregnant?’ You nodded. ‘I thought I was okay with it, more than okay. Like it wasn’t something I wanted but….’ You looked at him, ‘but maybe with you it is.’ You sniffed back more tears and went to stand but Logan stopped you ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Just that. That if I was going to have a baby with anyone, the thought of having one with you just feels…right,’ you immediately noticed the fear on his face, ‘that doesn’t mean I’m going to trap you I just wanted you to understand that you are it for me Logan. You’re the one and….’ ‘Sweetheart, I’m the last person on the planet you should be thinking about having a kid with,’ he said quietly. You hit him on the shoulder. ‘You keep saying things like that and they are not true!’ Logan stood. ‘Oh it’s true. More than true. I mean…it’s a miracle we’ve gotten this far without something fucking it up.’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Just that. I’m not good for anyone and I don’t know why the hell you think I am. And I really don’t understand why you think having a kid with me would be a good idea’ You stared at him. ‘Because I love you, you idiot.’ Logan ran a hand down his face ‘Well you shouldn’t.’

Confused you stood up and walked over to him. Logan wouldn’t look you in the eyes and you had to grab his face to make him. ‘Why are you being like this? I’m sorry for saying what I did, if it upset you…’ You felt Logan’s hands on your shoulders ‘It fucking terrified me! Everything about this terrifies me.’ You stared at him. ‘It’s bad enough the thought of losing you but a kid…my kid…to lose both of you…to…I can’t…’ He choked on his words and let go of you, practically running from your apartment. You stood in the middle of your kitchen and heard the main door downstairs slam. You sat back down at the table and stared at the door. What the hell.

***

The formidable team of Charles and Caliban normally managed to wear Logan down to the point where he realised what an ass he was being but this time they didn’t seem to be able to get through to him at all. You’d not seen Logan for over a week but Caliban had been texting you regular updates -

‘came home from work and punched out a window because they gave him decaf at Starbucks by accident. Not effective coping strategy tbh’

‘Told me to go fuck myself with a rusty pipe because I asked him if he would take the dirty sheets off his bed so I could wash them. Bit of an overreaction’

‘After drinking what I can only assume to be several gallons of whisky is currently passed out on the kitchen floor. He’s in the recovery position. I know he can’t technically die but never going to pass up a chance to practise your excellent first aid training :)' and included a picture of Logan in said recovery position. You knew Caliban just wanted some recognition that he’d got it right but the sight of Logan sprawled on the floor like that just made your heart break even more than it already was.

With each text you simply grew more and more concerned. Every call to Logan went straight to voice mail and every text remained unread. With every day you didn’t see Logan you missed him more and more while simultaneously wanting to smack him. You needed to speak to him and it was clear he was not going to make the first move.

***

Logan was limping out of Charles’ tank one morning when he spotted a car hurtling down the road towards the compound. He stood and watched it, finally recognising it as yours. ‘Fuck..’ he muttered. Part of him wanted to run inside and lock the door (you had a key, such an act was useless) and a bigger, aching part of him just wanted to see you. He stood and watched as you finally reached him and stopped your car.

Logan shambled over and opened the door for you. He was taken aback by how fast you could move and how hard you slapped him, rocking him back on his heels. He was genuinely impressed but thought that telling you this might not go down too well. ‘Pleased to see you too, sweetheart,’ he drawled instead, rubbing his cheek. You reared back to give him another but he grabbed your wrist. ‘Come inside’ Reluctantly you dropped your arm and followed him in.

Caliban was in the kitchen, ironing, when you came in. You gave him a big hug as he stepped out from behind the ironing board. ‘Oh I’ve missed you,’ you said. Caliban hugged you back and glanced over at Logan. He was greeted with a murderous stare. ‘While I’d love to stay and chat, I think your boyfriend might decapitate me.’ He squeezed you one more time and swiftly made his exit.

‘He gets a hug and I get slapped?’ You turned to him. ‘You’re lucky I didn’t try testing out that healing factor of yours a bit more,’ you fumed. ‘I thought nurses were meant to do no harm?’ ‘That’s doctors.’ Logan raised his hands in defeat and sat down at the table. You sat opposite. ‘You reek,’ you said ‘Thanks.’ ‘You can just drink the whisky, Logan, you don’t have to bathe in it.’ Logan crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, refusing to meet your eye. You glared at him. ‘You know the last thing I ever thought you would be was a coward, Logan,’ you spat You were taken back by the force of your anger. Not seeing or communicating with him for so long had only fuelled your ire and seeing him now did nothing to dampen it. ‘I’m not…’ ‘You are!’ You interrupted, ‘you’re a coward!’ Logan looked at you ‘Can I finish, Princess? I was going to say I’m not proud of myself and how I acted.’ ‘Oh…’ Logan stood and paced the floor. ‘You’re right. I am a coward. I have lived for so long, darling’. Too long. I have lost so many people, so many that I loved and so many people have taken so much from me. There is only so much loss that a person can take especially when you know there is no fucking end to it and you just have to keep on going and keep on losing year after year after year. When I can’t die but every single person around me does…’ You stared at him. ‘What are you saying? That you want to die?’ Logan was silent for a long time then said ‘No. But yeah, I did. I wanted to die every single day for years, decades, and even though I knew it was pointless I tried. A lot. And in so many ways.’ He stopped pacing and looked at you, ‘then I met you….for the first time in longer than I can remember I wanted to live. And that scared me more than anything else I’ve ever gone through.’ He knelt down beside you. ‘When you said that I was the one you would want a kid with…,’ he gripped your hand and you could see the tears glistening in his eyes. His fingers brushed the bangle he’d given you, ‘that Shakespeare guy knew a thing or two and those words…I mean every single one of them. But I don’t know how to stop being afraid of losing you.’ You didn’t know what to say. You knew Logan had lived a long life and you knew he had lost many. How did you reassure someone who’s known nothing but the fragility and finality of life?

You slid off your chair and knelt in front of him. You held onto his hand, and you both sat there in silence for a long time. ‘I don’t know what to say, Logan. I don’t know how to help you feel less afraid about losing me because one day you will lose me. And any kid we had. I will die and I can’t do anything about that.’ He looked up at you and you placed your hand on the cheek you’d slapped earlier. ‘You can’t keep running away from this. Because there is nowhere for you to run. You can’t outrun something that is inevitable. All I can do is reassure you that while I live - however long that is - I will love you. More fiercely than I ever thought and that scares me. And don’t think I haven’t thought about running. Every thing you’ve told me about your life, your past, should make me want to be a thousand miles away from you. But i don’t. I want to be here. In this…’ you looked around, ‘this temple to tetanus,’ Logan let out a small laugh. ‘I want you and every single second of your fucked up past Logan. Because that’s made you who you are. This man,’ you poked him in the chest, ‘and I want every second of our fucked up future as well.’

Logan leant forward and bumped his forehead against yours. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, ‘I’ve been a fucking asshole.’ ‘Yes,’ you said, ‘you most definitely have’ ‘Can you forgive me?’ ‘I will…but not yet.’ Logan sat back and looked at you. ‘I guess I deserved that.’ You nodded ‘Oh yeah you deserve that,’ you said, squeezing his hand, ‘there was a better way for you to handle this.’ ‘I know.’ Logan looked down at where you held his hand. ‘Can I kiss you?’ ‘Do you have whisky breath?’ Logan pulled a face and stood up, pulling you up with him. ‘If I brush my teeth can I kiss you?’ ‘I’ll think about it.’ Logan smiled and nodded, heading off to the bathroom. ‘Hey,’ you called after him ‘Yeah?’ You stood by the kitchen table, fingers picking at some dried food on the surface. ‘If…you know..you wanted to try like AA or something…I could come with you,’ you looked at him. He was staring at his feet. ‘I know you were trying. And I’m so proud of you for that. But you don’t have to do it alone.’ Logan’s eyes flicked up to yours. ‘I’m here,’ you said, ‘I’ll always be here.’ Logan nodded and continued to the bathroom.

You still needed to talk. You still felt that dull emptiness from when the test came back negative. As you sat at the table and looked around, you wondered if you’d truly lost your mind, thinking about bringing a child into Logan’s world. The past weeks had shown you a side to Logan that alarmed you. Acting like this when it was just the two of you was one thing but what if he did the same if you had a child. You were still mulling these thoughts over when he emerged from the bathroom. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him. ‘Don’t take this as you being forgiven because you aren’t. I just wanted a hug and I don’t know where Caliban went,’ you said, your voice muffled by Logan’s shirt. Logan smiled into your hair ‘Whatever you say, sweetheart.’