#I cut it out because it didn't fit the tone I went with

[kathbunny]

Davion goes to the cafe. Doesn't know how to feel about this. Also doesn't know how to feel about Dani barely restraining the urge to insult him (it's weirder when she's fake nice)

Thank you to the discord for the ideas!!

"You know, thinking about it, I still feel like it's a little weird to be going to your boyfriend's work together." Davion said as he followed behind Cressida. "Mostly because it's a maid cafe. I feel like if it was a normal restaurant, it'd be more normal."

"Oh, he's not working today anyway." Cressida said, turning a corner and stopping, motioning to the aforementioned cafe. "Here it is! Too late to turn back now."

"What do you mean he's not working today? Why are we here then?"

"You'll see." Cressida said, smiling a little too went as she went to open the door.

Davion, as there was nothing else he could do, followed. He hadn't ever been in a maid cafe before, for very obvious reasons, but his first thought upon walking inside was that it looked kind of shit. Cressida apparently had a reservation and they were brought over to a booth off in a corner.

"Dani will be right with you in a moment!" The blonde who had guided them to their table and given them menus had said, before skittering off to go handle one of her tables. They didn't even have a specific person for the host stand.

Davion took a long moment to process the name. No, no, it couldn't possibly be the same Dani. Maybe he misheard it. It could be a Danny or Danni or Danie or something. Cressida's smile implied his thoughts were probably incorrect though.

"If that's who I think it is, I believe I'll have a good reason to hate you."

"You'll thank me later." Cressida said, picking up the menu to start looking through it.

Davion did the same, trying to distract himself from his impending doom. He didn't even look up when he heard somebody approach and stop at the table, only to see the scuffed up shoes that went with the maid uniform as he tried to keep his head down.

"Welcome home, masters!" Dani began, voice forced to higher pitch, but still not losing the gravel her voice normally had, making the tone even more awkward. "I'm Dani and I'll be serving you to-" She suddenly cut herself off, which earned a chuckle from Cressida.

"Hey." Cressida greeted, waving.

Davion forced himself to look up at Dani, being greeted by the most strained fake smile. And the fact her hair was blue rather than ginger. A wig? It didn't look like a cheap one if it was. Unless her usual ginger was the actual wig? Her dress was a dark blue, almost black, with a ruffly apron over top of it. She had earrings even, multiple per ear, the sort you'd see on somebody trying to look cool and edgy. None of it really fit the raccoon-like classmate Davion knew, she didn't even seem to brush her hair in the morning normally.

"...hi, Dani." Davion also greeted, giving the smallest wave. "Cool seeing you outside of school." He said with a wince.

Dani took a deep breath. "What do you mean? I don't think I've ever met you before, master!" She lied through her teeth, her cheeks were visibly darkening though. "I have a twin sister attending college near here though! Maybe that's who you know!"

"...uh-huh." Davion said. "Sure. Okay."

There was a long moment of silence.

"Anyway!" Dani said, clapping her hands together before continuing with what seemed to be a practiced spiel.

-

Cressida and Davion parted ways outside of the cafe after eating, Cressida heading off to do some shopping and Davion just planning on heading home. As he was walking past the corner, he was suddenly grabbed by the shoulder by something and dragged off into an alleyway. This was how he died, this would be how he was forever remembered, last seen in a maid cafe.

"Okay, motherfucker, how did you find out where I worked?" Dani hissed.

Davion blinked a few times. "Cressida forced me to be there." He said immediately.

"I'm going to kill her."

"She learned it from Roy." Davion added.

Dani grumbled something under her breath before releasing him. "Don't tell anyone."

Davion raised his hands in surrender. "Of course, of course. I'll tell nobody your secret embarrassing job. On my honor."

"You have no honor."

"On my car that you hate."

"I don't hate your car, just how bad you are at caring for it."

"Right." Davion said, dusting himself. "I'm leaving. I hated this whole experience."

So today in the discord I ended up talking about a crack maid cafe au

Basic summary is just: Oto runs a maid cafe for whatever reason, the crew plays the Heap folks all work there.

Maxim and VR-LA are roommates, but VR-LA is keeping his job a secret! And this is just Maxim finding the maid outfit and having the wrong assumption immediately.

CW: sexual content

Maxim stepped into VR-LA's room, carrying the basket of clean laundry under one arm. He had finished picking his clothes out of the recently dried clothes, so he figured he could just put the basket on VR-LA's bed for until he got home. As he put it on the blue quilt, he noticed the edge of something sticking out from the closet door. It had probably gotten caught before VR-LA left.

It'd probably get messed up like that, so Maxim just went up to the door and slid it open. A dress? Maxim let his curiosity get the better of him for a moment, moving the hangers slightly to get a better look at it. His face heated up near immediately as he realized what it was. A maid dress? VR-LA owned a maid dress? And he used enough to hang it up rather than just storing it in one of the boxes in the closet?

Maxim glanced at the apron, which was tied to the hanger, seeing that there was something in the pocket. He couldn't tell what from the shape, but he also wasn't sure if he wanted to know. He stared for a moment longer, seeing something else was awkwardly hanging off the hanger. A garter.

Maxim shut the closet. If VR-LA was active in such ways, it was none of Maxim's business. Maxim repeated that in his own head as he marched his way out of VR-LA's room and back into the living room. He started looking for something else to busy his hands and mind, but his mind wandered anyway.

VR-LA did go out often, he had plenty of fairly eccentric friends, it wasn't too out of the question that he might be participating in some form of kink with somebody, or even multiple people. Possibly that MR-SN man that VR-LA followed around like a lost puppy. Maxim found that there were no chores left, so he just started folding the dish towels that they normally just piled into a little basket on the counter. And VR-LA did seem fairly out there himself when it came to his interests, half his shelf was science books and the other fantasy. Maids appeared in quite a few fantasy stories, right? And some of the shows VR-LA liked?

Maxim paused, realizing folding towels were giving him no distraction. Maybe he could prep for dinner then. That could occupy his mind. Not the images of VR-LA in that outfit. VR-LA hadn't ever shown it to Maxim, so it wasn't for Maxim to see. Why would he even show it to Maxim though?

[theimpandthetumbl-r]

Titling this SaH AU "Born Like This" and deciding whether or not it's an MF DOOM reference or ripped from Dinosauria, We

Seducing The Enemy was originally gonna be called that since it was gonna be a one-off but then the 'tism kicked in and now I've cooked up several scenarios in my head.

Actually I've been thinking of a more anime retake of the SaH plot too...

Christ I've fallen deep into this hole haven't I?

[buckyalpine]

Sharon calls you fat (pregnant reader)

I live for the angst where Sharon/people call reader fat and make fun of her not knowing she's pregnant and Bucky protects the ever living fuck out of her because that's his gorgeous babymama. Bonus when Sharon is a jealous hoe. Throw in some protective avengers in there too. Breeding kink? Pregnancy kink? Also yes. He's a feral, horny little shit here, I apologize.

You huffed as you buttoned your jeans, the waistband sitting snugly around your waist, pressing into your skin a little bit more than usual. You dug through the closet to find one of Bucky's hoodies to slip on, loving the way the soft material engulphed you in his scent.

You weren't showing much yet but your body was certainly changing. Your sense of smell was heightened, constantly craving to be surrounded by your boyfriends smell. Your breasts were growing heavier and your clothes were more fitting than before. Cravings had already started. Your cheeks were a tad fuller and you were certainly glowing.

Bucky's super soldier serum was no joke.

You made your way down to make something for breakfast, grabbing a bag of peppermint tea to help with some of the nausea you had been experiencing. Sharon sauntered into the kitchen, still clad in her tiny workout clothes as she went to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

"Hey Sharon" You smiled as you poured water into your mug while munching on a cookie, grabbing another when your tummy rumbled. Baby Barnes clearly took after daddy, craving anything and everything sweet. And salty. And sweet and salty.

"Hey y/n" Sharon's eyes looked at you up and down, cocking her head slightly while you snacked, rummaging around for something else to eat. "Might wanna cut down a little there, huh" She teased, nodding to the potato chip you popped into your mouth.

"What?" You weren't sure you heard correctly, setting down the bag while she pursed her lips.

"Oh, nothing. I don't know how you eat that stuff, it's so greasy"

"Hm, yeah I guess" You gave her a weak smile, her words causing the insecurities you were already feeling about your body to creep back up again. You had a heavy feeling in your chest, seeing her flit about the kitchen, still perfectly toned. You shook those thoughts away, remembering the reason beautiful your body was different but it didn't do much.

The words still stung.

You decided to make your way back to your room to wait for Bucky to return from his morning jog with Steve, passing by one of the new trainees as you left the kitchen. Their hushed whispers caused you to stop in your tracks, your stomach dropping when you heard what they were saying.

"She's getting fat" Sharon snorted, hardly noticing you weren't out of ear shot while the trainee giggled along with her, nodding in agreement.

"Oh my God, you should've seen her at the gym yesterday. She was breathing so hard while running on the treadmill, I thought she was going to pass out. I don't even think she lasted 5 minutes before calling it quits" The trainee replied while Sharon rolled her eyes.

"She's gonna looked like a beached whale if she keeps eating like that, I swear she finished the entire row single handedly"

"I don't get what Bucky is doing with her. Honestly, I'm not even complaining. If she gets any fatter he's gonna leave her so maybe that'll make it easier for me" Sharon cackled along with the girl, the both of them snickering while swooning over the soldier. "He's so hot. I don't get what the hell he's doing with her, he can do so much better. Just wait till I show him, he'll see what he's missed out on"

You hardly realized you'd broken down into tears, slapping a hand over your mouth to keep from sobbing. You ran to your shared bedroom as fast as you could before anyone else saw you, closing the door and instructing FRIDAY to keep everyone out. You threw your jeans off, hating the way they were tighter on you, curling up under the covers, muffling your cries into the pillow.

-

Bucky ran his fingers through his short locks, making his way to the kitchen to grab some water after his run, smiling to himself knowing how much you loved to slink around him whenever he worked out. He loved how needy and cuddly you were, always burying your face into his neck of chest, trying to crawl up him like a tree.

"Where are you babygirl" Bucky called for you, expecting to see you in the perched in the kitchen with your pepper mint tea you'd recently been relying on, only to find a full mug without you in sight. Sharon and the new agent were still there, both of them eyeing him up and down, hoping to get his attention.

"Hey Sarge-

"Have you seen y/n" Bucky cut Sharon off, still looking around for you. Sharon rolled her eyes again, stating she hadn't seen you at all, since she'd spend her own morning working out. Bucky frowned, picking up the still hot tea, taking it up as he made his way to the bedroom.

"Sweeheart?" Bucky called for you softly, his heart racing when he hard soft sniffles from the other side of the door, his anxiety spiking when the door was locked. "Baby, are you okay? Can you open the door please?"

You hiccupped, trying to calm yourself down hearing Bucky's worried voice, quickly wiping your face before getting out of bed to open the door for him. His heart broke seeing his sweet girl with red rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks from crying, pulling you into him while shutting the door behind him.

"What's wrong mama" Bucky cooed, hugging you tightly while you whimpered in his hold, your insecurities at an all time high as he slipped his hand under your hoodie to stroke the bare skin of your back.

"Am I fat?" You whispered, worried the question would make realize you were less attractive, a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face.

"What?" Bucky pulled away, shock evident on his face while you stared at your feet, swallowing nervously.

"Please don't make me say it"

"Sweetheart, look at me" He held your face firmly in his hands making you look a him, "Why would you ask such a thing"

"I-I heard some people talking in the kitchen. Said I'm fat" If it wasn't for Bucky's enhanced hearing, he would've missed your fallen voice as you hide your face in his chest again.

"Absolutely not baby, who said that to you" Bucky held back on the red hot anger that surged through him, needing to comfort you first before raining hell on whoever hurt you.

"But I am Bucky!" You cried in frustration, pulling away from his hold. "It looks awful and I'm just going to keep getting bigger, I- I get if you don't find me as attractive-

"Hey, hey, stop, baby look at me" Bucky stopped your rambling, pulling you back into him, his hands holding your face firmly, "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are to me? Hm? Do you have any idea how insanely attracted I've been to you ever since you told me you're pregnant?"

You shook your head, your heart jolting when he pushed himself against you, letting you feel the hardness between his legs, poorly contained in his joggers.

"Bucky-

"C'mere" Bucky threw your hoodie off before stripping his own clothes aside, his hard cock angry and leaking, desperate to fill you. "M'gonna show you baby"

He didn't give you a second to protest, carrying you over to bed and laying you down, spreading your legs apart, flicking his cock against your clit before tracing it down to your entrance and shoving himself home.

"Bucky!" you moaned, your legs moving on their own to wrap around his waist as he started to move, throbbing the entire time.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful mama, if you weren't pregnant already, we'd be in here all day till you were" Bucky groaned, grabbing and caressing your soft skin, already leaking into you. "You're gonna look so sexy when your belly gets all round, when these breasts get all big, they're gonna leak so much carrying my baby"

He moved to tug your swollen nipples between his pink lips, groaning at the thought of how sweet your milk would taste. Your back arched off the bed from how sensitive they were, your cunt fluttering around his cock, sucking him in deeper.

"I already know you're gonna get so swollen mama, its my baby in your belly. Did you forget its my cum that got you pregnant? Did you forget there's all that serum in my cock baby? I got you fuckin' pregnant, I'm you're babydaddy, I can't wait to see you get all tired, pouty and big with my super soldier baby"

"Oh fuck Bucky" you wailed, his words making your heart swell while your pussy nearly squirted as he hit that spongy spot deep in you, "P-please don't-don't stop"

"I won't stop baby, couldn't even if I wanted to, y'feel too good. Fuck, just knowing you're pregnant makes me so hard, can't believe I knocked suck a pretty little thing up, so lucky I got to stuff you nice and full"

Bucky started to fuck you harder till he headboard added new dents to the wall since the extra strength walls Tony added had nothing on Bucky's stamina and strength.

"Can't wait till everyone sees how pretty you're gonna look, m'gonna show you off, make sure everyone knows you're my girl, the love of my life, that you're carrying a piece of me in you"

"But- but what if they think-I won't look-" You're insecurities tried to sneak back in but Bucky wasn't having any of it, shutting ha down immediately.

"I'll fuck you in front of them. You think I give a fuck? I'll bend this pretty ass over, hold that perfectly round belly and stuff my cock in you till it leaks and makes a mess on the floor. I'll show them exactly what I did to get you that big in the first place, let them see how swollen my cock gets for you, goddamn, I'm gonna cum!"

Bucky fucked you hard and fast, letting you feel him in your stomach, not holding back one bit, his hand flying to grip onto the headboard.

"Bucky-Bucky gonna-I'm gonna-!OH GOD" You let out a silent scream, cumming around him without warning, your pregnancy making you extra sensitive, being able to orgasm without him even touching you.

"This sweet, soft fuckin' body" Bucky's pace faltered, sinking his teeth into your shoulder, "So good to me, so fuckin' good!, gonna cum mama, gonna give you more of my cream, gonna full that pussy up n'keep you pregnant forever, take it gorgeous, fuckin' beautiful, no one makes me hard like this, m'gonna cum so hard-fuck-fuck-FUCCCKKK M'CUMMING" Bucky roared against your neck, his cock bursting with ropes of cum, emptying his balls dry with sloppy thrusts until the sheets were soaked. You both panted, sweat covering your bodies, the sweet, primal smell of sex filling the room making your practically purr.

"You're the most beautiful thing to ever happen to me. I love you no matter what. You're stunning to me at any size, pregnant or not, don't you ever forget it" Bucky held you firmly, brushing his hands over your belly, pressing a kiss to your temple. You nodded, already feeling better, nervousness replacing your previous anxiety because you knew Bucky wouldn't let the incident slide.

"Who made you feel this way baby" His voice was gentle but he wasn't leaving any room for negotiation.

"Just leave it Bucky" You shrugged, not wanting to make it a big deal but he shook his head.

"Can't do that sugar. No one makes my doll upset. You get some rest alright? let me make you lunch and we'll take a nap after"

You nodded, letting him slip his henley over your head, grabbing some comfy sweats for you to wear and throwing on his own clothes before heading down. You froze as you neared the kitchen seeing everyone else downstairs gathered for lunch which was a rare sight but there had been less mission recently meaning everyone was home. Bucky gave your hand a comforting squeeze, a stark contrast the to protective anger he felt again.

"Who the fuck spoke about y/n" Bucky stormed down, silence filling the room immediatly, everyone staring at each other in confusion while Sharon's face filled with guilt. "Well?!"

"What happened Buck, Steve and I were training this morning" Sam said honestly, while the others nodded in agreement, still looking at each other wondering what was going on. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"Well someone said something because she was upset in our bedroom and it happened today" Bucky had a good feeling about who caused your distress, knowing no one else would ever do such a thing but he wasn't about to call out Sharon ha easily, seeing her already squirming in discomfort.

"There's an easy solution to all this, give me a second" Tony typed something into his phone before calling for Friday, "FRIDAY can you play back the audio from this morning from when y/n was in here"

"Certainly, Mr. Stark"

The audio started with you greeting Sharon, followed by her comment and then the conversation she had with the new trainee. Shock and gasps filled the room, everyone glaring at the blonde with disgust while she shook her head, her stomach churning.

"I-I didn't say anything! That wasn't even me!"

"Really? Then who the fuck was it" Bucky spat, ready to jump her across the table, his fists balled at his side. Sharon huffed, biting her lip while Bucky continued to glare at her, still holding your hand softly in his. His anger only flared more, thinking about how she thought she could replace you.

"Fine! I said it! But was I wrong? She is bigger than before" Sharon weakly defended herself, trembling when Bucky flinched, his self restraint growing thinner. Your eyes grew steamy, squeaking when Bucky moved to wrap his arm around your tummy, slipping it under your shirt.

"Cause she's pregnant. With my baby. I'm her babydaddy. I got her pregnant. You wanna know how? I fucked her. So hard. I didn't just fuck her, I made love to her cause she's my girl. Do you have any idea how attracted I am to her? How much cum there was? I didn't pull out once. She's so tight around my cock, its hard not to fill her up. Just kept going until my dick started to hurt and even then, I didn't wanna pull out"

Sam smirked at Bucky's utterly unhinged, x-rated rambling while Steve buried his red face in his hands. Tony cackled from the side while Nat patiently waited to get a chance to lay her hands on Sharon on Bucky's behalf.

"I-I get it, enough-

"You're delusional if you think I'd ever leave her for you. This is the love of my life. She's giving me a baby. She's beautiful. I chose this woman because she's special, she's this one I want to have a family with. You know what, you better get used to it cause I'm gonna get her pregnant again and again and it won't be hard considering how badly I constantly want her. In fact, we fucked just now, tell your little friend that"

"Oh my god" Sharon huffed, harshly wiping her tear streaked face, ready to throw up from embarrassment. She choked a sob, running out without looking back, Bucky's words tearing her apart. Everyone ignored her presence, immediately piling onto you with hugs, kisses and congratulations instead.

"Congratulations, babydaddy" Sam grinned, playfully nudging Bucky's shoulder making him blush, his arms still wrapped around your tummy. "And to you, little mama"

"I call god father" Steve announced, kissing your cheek before pulling Bucky into a tight hug, happy for his best friend and you.

Nat cracked a few knuckles, giving you a quick peck on the head, promising to celebrate later before following Sharon out, ready to hand her ass to her. The little trainee would be next.

"So what you're both saying is there's gonna be another super soldier running around here?" Tony's eyes lit up with excitement and a dash of fear when he remembered the baby would also be surrounded by idiots like Sam and Steve. He'd have to reinforce everything.

Immediately.

[cherryswisherz]

Oh boy I just had a thought of Paige tracking you on find my friends and her being PISSED that you’re not where you’re supposed to be/where she thinks you were going to be AND DRIVES THERE to confront you and the backseat of her car goes crazy after she drags you out of there.

She purposely parked way in the back in a dark corner for a reason, she’s MAD.

FEEL IT

♱ CONTAINS: girlfriends that solve problems with sex

♱ NIYAHSPEAKS: lil request n stuff

"i'm gon make you feel it"

feel it (jacquees ft. lloyd & rich homie quan, 2014)

♱♱♱♱

shitshitshitshitshit

the look in paiges eyes told me all i needed to know. 

that i was royally fucked. she was gonna kill me. 

SHIT.

as she marched me to her car that was parked all the way in the back of the lot, i kept looking at her, trying to read her. to find out what was about to happen. but i couldn't t and that stressed me out even more because paiges face always spoke before she did. 

when we reached her car, i went to open my own door and paige snatched me up, pulling me back into her side. 

"don't piss me off right now bro." she muttered, opening my door for me, as she always did. 

now we were in the car... protected by tinted windows and distance. no one could see or hear us. 

paige didn't start the car. she didn't turn on a light. she didn't speak. it was just silent and dark. 

i heard her take a deep breath and mutter something to herself before turning the ignition, allowing the cars overhead light to come on so i could see her perfect fucking face. 

but my admiration was interrupted by her leveled voice.

"are you out of your fucking. mind?" she asked, turning in her seat so she was looking at me. her hands were folded in between her legs and the leg that wasn't propped up against the seat was tapping. 

i was too nervous to speak. my mouth was dry. my hands were clammy and suddenly the floor of this vehicle was very intriguing. 

but then paige said "it's in your best fucking interest to answer me right now." and i'd miraculously  found the will to activate my vocal chords enough to whisper "no."

"you're not? great. then why the fuck are you all of a sudden lying to me?" her head ticked to the side a little before she continued. "and i'm not saying the fit isn't hard, but why the fuck are you half naked right now?"

her leg tapping got fast to the point the car shook a little and i knew i was in some deeeeep shit. "because i didn't want you to be worried about me." i lied. i didn't tell her because i simply didn't want to. 

i wasn't cheating, or drinking or anything, but i liked doing what i wanted, when i wanted, without anyone's permission and i thought paige would have just told me to stay home or tried to come with me and i needed the time away from her. 

"baby. you're a 5'10 basketball player from fucking inglewood. you're 180 pounds of straight muscle. you have a fucking six pack. when have i ever ben concerned for your fucking safety?" her eyes cut as she leaned over the arm rest. she grabbed my jaw and turned me so i was looking her in the eyes again. "stop lying to me."

"i'm not lying baby." i put the puppy dog eyes on her and tried to butter her up, but it did nothing because her next words made my heart drop to my literal ass. 

"get in the back." her tone was soft, and i could feel her anger as she pulled away from me, opened her door and stepped out of the car. "and take your pants off for me." she said before she shut the door. but rather than getting in the back seat herself, she leaned against the driver door, and pulled out her phone as if this was the most normal night ever and she needed fresh air. 

but wasn't about to see what would happen if wasn't in the back when she returned so i climbed over the armrest and took off my jeans, sitting with my back to the door and my legs across the backseat.

i don't know how long i was waiting for her, but when paige joined me in the back seat, she simply slid in, picked my feet up and placed them in her lap. 

"you know i love you right?" she asked. 

"yeah..." i answered her, confused as hell. "why?"

she didn't answer right away. instead she grabbed my arms, gently pulling me into her lap. her big blue eyes were looking across my face and my spined tingled when she gave me a shit eating grin. "because you've clearly lost your mind, but that's okay because we're about to find it."

"oh?"

"yeah." she nodded, sliding her hands up and down my thighs. "you've been pissing me for the past 30 minutes and now you finna feel it. "

fuck.

she leaned over pulling me down for a kiss that felt more like a battle. our lips fighting against each other, hers winning. 

i started to grind on her lap, trying to get some sort of friction and almost instantly, paige halted all movements, holding her hands at my waist.

i rested my head against hers, my eyes still closed, as i tried to catch my breath. 

"look at me." paige said, raising a brow as she dipped her hand between my legs, drawing her fingers down my wet folds. 

i drew in a visible breath, clenching my jaw as she caressed me in a way that left me with virtually no air left in my lungs.

with her eyes on mine-and mine on hers, i couldn't help the fire that burned onto my cheeks. 

it was the way she was looking at me, and knowing i couldn't look away from her without a particular consequence. 

"tell me why you lied to me." paige suddenly said. 

i furrowed my brows. "i already told you." i forced out breathlessly. 

"that wasn't the truth."

i blinked a few times- inevitably moaning when paige slid a finger into me. 

"it was the truth." i quickly spit out, digging my nails into her covered shoulders. 

paige raised squinted her eyes as they darted between mine, searching for the truth in my lies, "why you keep lying to me mama?" her voice was so calm. calm to the point where it was unsettling. 

"i'm no-" a whimper vibrated in my throat when she slid a second finger into me, "paige." i whine, unconsciously arching into her fingers. 

"why didn't you tell me where were you were going, y/n?" she asked her voice lowered and her stare bore into my soul. 

i realized she wasn't gonna let this go, and it was pointless to keep lying. plus i really wanted to cum and she wasn't gonna let that happen until she had her answer. 

"because and i don't need to be at your hip 24/7. i knew if i told you where i was going you were gonna want to come, or tell me to stay home or-"

i was cut off my my own whimper, feeling paiges pace quicken. 

"oh please. don't stop on my account. keep telling me what you think you know." paige practically laughed, now deepening her strokes.

i clenched my jaw, shaking my head a few times as i desperately tried to get my moans under control. but even when i pressed my lips together, the guttural moans still vibrated in my chest.

especially when paige gripped my hips and guided me deeper into her strokes, causing me to tighten around her. 

"i always thought you were smart, babe," paige murmured, "but now i think you might be one of the stupidest motherfuckers i've ever met." she bit out, making my face grow hot. 

her words should have pissed me off in their insulting nature. but instead i felt a pit form in my stomach. 

a long drawn out moan fell from my lips as soon as my orgasm washed over me, arching entirely into her body as her eyes never left mine. 

"faster." paige demanded. 

i shook my hand like a mad woman "paige-" 

"ride me faster y/n." she cut me short. 

a breathless whimper fell from my lips, suddenly guiding my hips back and forth against her fingers which made my legs tremble on either side of her lap. 

"fuck- i cant," i forced out shaking my head as moan after moan vibrated form my throat. 

paige only guided my hips herself now, quickening my pace even more, curling perfectly into my spot with each grind. 

my face burned under her stare and she never slowed down, only pushing harder into me. 

my second organs hit me like a mac truck. 

"paige" i breathed out, digging deeper into her shoulders as my whole body shook against hers

i thought we were done. i thought she'd taught me whatever lesson she was trying to teach and we were gonna go back to her place and argue some more, but instead she began drilling into me father than before, moving her free hand from my hip and rubbing circles on my clit. 

"oh shit-" i yelled out, trying pushing away from her, my head hitting the back of the driver seat. but my attempt at running didn't deter her, only egged her on as she tugged my shirt up, leaned forward and wrapped her soft lips around my hardened nipple. 

i felt everything and it was all too much. 

her fingers were digging me out, her thumb on my clit had me seeing starts and her tongue swirled around my nipple in a way that just made everything too much. 

not even two minutes later, my jaw dropped and a scream from the pits of my soul fought its way out . i wasn't even shaking, it was like tremors ran through my whole body as i fell apart in my girlfriends lap. 

tears wet my face and a i whined as paige pulled out of me after i'd calmed down a little. she continued rubbing my back and placed a soft kiss to my forehead. 

then she pulled my head off her shoulders and made me look her in the eyes. "all you had to do was tell me you wanted to go out. i hate clubs and i would have understood that you needed some non-relationship related activity. don't lie to me again ma. okay?" her eyes were almost pleading with me in a sense. 

i guess it was the fact that i'd never been in a relationship where proper communication was encouraged, but hearing that made me ache for her all over again.

"okay... but since we're not mad anymore... can we go home for round two?"

♱TAGLIST: @patscorner @riyahtheballer @mattslolita @thaatdigitaldiary @1onescu

@mrsengstler @kmoneymartini @sageworld @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @justliketoreadsowhat @authentic-girl03

[the-secret-keeper]

Where MC Tells the Dateables + Luke About How Horribly They Were Treated In Twisted Wonderland Part 2

Part 2 to my previous post that was requested by @sweetlicorice but with the Dateables + Luke. I hope you enjoy it!

First Part (Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Satan, Beelzebub, and Belphegor)

TW: Talk of being overworked, burnt out, starvation, hunger, Abuse of Power, Very Angry Demons/Angels/Sorcerer (not at you), mental breakdowns, nightmares, a lot of talk of food in Lukes, and missing a pet (he's not dead, don't worry)

Reader is referred to as MC by characters, and MC is gender neutral. Having said that, this is in second person POV, so for the most part you are referred to as "you" by the narrator.

Characters include: Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, and Luke

Can be read as Romantic or Platonic (EXCEPT FOR LUKE, HE IS STRICTLY PLATONIC)

This will be long, so stories under the cut

This is organized by character with some context at the beginning (it's the same as the original post, so if you've read that, then you can skip it if you like)

~

First, it was a coffin. You were kidnapped by a horse-drawn hearse, woke up in a coffin, in another world. A world of magic, and wonder, but also one of pain, as you quickly learned. But you met people. You made friends, allies, and you were learning, even if you couldn't use magic.

And then, it was you landing rather harshly in a room that looked like an old-time, very fancy courtroom, surrounding by tall and intimidating looking young men. It was soon explained to you that you were in the Devildom, and were an exchange student, one that would be living with the Seven Deadly Sins for your own protection.

You didn't know what to feel. Gratitude for the much improved living conditions? Fear for living with a bunch of demons and going to school with demons that would likely have no qualms with snapping you in two if you stepped out of line? Sadness for the friends that you don't know how to get back to? Upset for being forced to leave the place you were finally starting to feel like you fit in at and having to leave Grim? It was a whirlwind inside, and for a time, that's where it stayed. Kept inside.

Slowly, the Devildom revealed to have similar problems as Twisted Wonderland, in the fact that it seems everyone in power here, aside from Diavolo and Barbatos, would like you to die.

Most of the brothers tried to kill you. One of them succeeded! Congrats to them you guess, though, no offense to Belphie, you don't think it was particularly hard for a demon to kill a human.

Through all of this, you got closer to those you were staying with, even forgiving Belphegor after everything. It only made sense that eventually, what happened to you, you started to open up to them about your past. About those that you met and bonded with, all that had been put onto you, and all that was different.

And after you opened up to them, it only made sense that you started to speak more candidly to the others as well, right? They deserve to know, just as much as the brothers.

Diavolo:

Diavolo confused you, more than anything. At least at first. He held the same position as Crowley, yet he acted more like a mixture of Kalim and Hornton. You were wary, obviously, as you should be. But you never excluded him. You always listened when he spoke, and asked his opinions on things that most would consider trivial. You went to him to ask questions about events, because, while Lucifer or Barbatos could answer your questions, you wanted to see if he was doing his job, or if this was another Crowley situation.

But he exceeded your expectations every time. He'd recognized that you would struggle with the curriculum, so he assigned that teachers would give you easier assignments and asked Satan to tutor you. He'd answer any questions about events and such in detail, and always with an excited tone, and always willing to take suggestions, or ask your opinions. He never dismissed your asking his opinion, and he always seemed to appreciate that you were actively listening to him.

He even went out of his way to ask you questions, and ask your opinions. He'd invite you to spend time with him both in and out of the castle. And while he'd let you sit in his office as he worked, he never made you do anything more than your schoolwork. He took the time to learn about you. Your interests, your hobbies, your preferences. How you dress, what you like to eat, what you don't like to eat, and everything in between. Discussion never seemed to cease with Diavolo.

He took note of your lack of willingness to talk about the time you were gone, and he'd seen that time in your file. Barbatos seemed to know, but also told him that if he wanted to know he should ask you. He did ask gently a few times, but if he sensed he was overstepping even by a toe, he would withdraw. He didn't want to risk the progress he'd made in becoming closer to you.

One day, he had invited you out to the garden as a catch-up, because he hadn't been able to see you as much as he would like recently. There was cookies, some cake, and your favorite hot drink, made to your preference by Barbatos, who left the two of you alone. You and Diavolo did, indeed, catch up about the time you'd not been able to speak. But he noticed that a gargoyle he had recently had brought in had caught your eye.

"Do you like it?"

"It's not one I've seen before, is it new?" You asked, sipping your drink.

"It is! I just had that gargoyle installed." He smiled. "I'm surprised you noticed."

"I take note of the decorative statues, force of habit. I didn't know that the gardens were having plumbing problems?" You commented innocently.

"They are not. Why do you think that?" He asked, just as innocently.

"So, the statue doesn't have the rain spout function?" He shook his head at your question. "Then it is not a gargoyle, it is a grotesque. They look similar, but gargoyles have a rain spout function, and they're usually installed to prevent damage to buildings through erosion." You smiled knowingly.

"Fascinating. I did not know you knew so much about the subject."

"I don't." You set down your cup. "I had a friend, his name was Malleus. Malleus Draconia. But he let me call him Hornton. He had a club at our last school, called the Gargoyle Appreciation Club. He was the real expert, I just know the base level stuff."

"Did you join this club?"

"I wasn't officially a part of the club, but I attended all the meetings I could. We were both rather busy people, so we weren't able to meet up as much as we would've liked." You admitted.

"In what way?"

"Well we were both full-time students. And we were both housewardens. His dorm, granted, was much bigger than mine. But I'd stand to argue that my only roommate was more of a handful than half of his students." You laughed. "He was crown prince of Briar Valley, so he had a lot of responsibility to his kingdom, on top of schoolwork. I had a lot of schoolwork too, but it was harder because I didn't understand most of it." You sighed. "And that's not including the errands Crowley would have me run, and the paperwork he'd push on me. On top of picking up extra shifts at the Mostro Lounge for extra funds, in order to supplement what little I was given by the school. Not to mention, making sure no one Overblotted, and taking care of Grim." You listed.

"He made you do his paperwork?" You nodded. He gently tilted his head to the side, before righting it. "Did he pay you to do his work for him?"

"No." You shook your head lightly. "He often took away my housing and food budget, if I didn't do what he wanted, or, if I didn't do what he wanted in a timely manner." You admitted. "It was stressful to live there."

"I'm sorry to hear that you were stuck with such an incompetent person in charge of your care, he sounds truly awful. I am grateful to hear that you did so well despite it."

"It's not your fault." You smiled at him. "I miss my friends, truly. But I am happy here. I feel welcomed here, and safe. It's odd to say that. Yeah, any citizen of the Devildom could snap me in two if they really wanted to, but they don't. And they won't. But there were no such limitations back at Night Raven College. If anyone wanted me hurt, I'd have to fight them tooth and nail. Luckily, I did have people that had my back." You hummed at the memory. "My friend group is great. I do hope I get to see them again some day. But I miss Grim most of all."

"Who is Grim?"

"My cat." You beamed. "Grim is my cat. He's a special kind of cat. At least, I think he is. I don't really know what he is, in all honesty." You laughed. "But he could fly, and use magic, and breathe fire. And he could talk! He used to talk my ear off." Diavolo smiled at your elated state. "He really wanted to attend Night Raven College, so he broke in, in order to get accepted. He and I were accepted after a short stint as janitors, each as one half of a whole student. He had magic, and I had opposable thumbs." You joked, making Diavolo laugh, a loud, hearty laugh. "He would call me Henchman, and he was greedy, and sarcastic, but boy, I love that cat. When it came down to it, he was the one I could rely on the most. He was always there when I needed him. And if he couldn't help, he'd find someone who could."

"He sounds like Mammon." He commented.

"Mammon does remind me of Grim. Perhaps that's why I'm so fond of him." You hummed, smiling at the thought. "Grim and I were practically inseparable. He'd sleep on my shoulders, or in my arms, or in my bag during the day. He'd sleep on my bed at night. If you saw me, you knew he wasn't far behind." You smiled at the thought.

"You miss him that much?" Diavolo asked lightly. You nodded, without much thought.

"Don't get me wrong, I love it here. You guys are so nice to me, and I'm not overworked, or burnt out. You're nothing like Crowley, and that is a wonderful thing. But I do miss Grim." You sighed, after assuring him.

"I am sorry to hear that you have gone through such hardships. I did not know."

"How could you have? I never told you." You shrugged. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"Hmm?" He tilted his head to the side once more, eyebrow raised in confusion. You laughed at the sight of the crown prince of the Devildom looking like a confused puppy.

"I knew you were curious, about why I didn't trust you, about my past. But you didn't pry. Thank you, for letting me come to you on my own terms." He smiled, righting his head again, and nodding.

"Of course. You're someone I hold dear, I'd never want to make you uncomfortable."

"That's very sweet of you." You took another sip of your drink, before looking at him again. "Would you like to hear more about my friends from Night Raven? I think you would like them."

"Yes, I would like that very much. And you simply must tell me more about this talking cat of yours. I am curious." You smiled, before nodding.

You started to regale him with tales of your adventures at Night Raven, and all about your friends. He smiled, nodding along, and letting you talk, even though you both continued to chat long after your drinks had gone cold, and the treats stale. He didn't even want you to stop when Lucifer had come to fetch you from the palace, but he knew he should let you go.

Now knowing more, he was certainly going to look into finding this talking cat of yours. He would love to meet him, and he's sure you'd love to have him back as well. And if the internal anger he'd started to feel towards your previous headmaster was released in the process, well then, he supposes that kills two birds with one stone. Maybe literally for one of those birds, but who is he to say?

Barbatos:

Barbatos knew a lot. He knew you were wary, and he knew you ought to be. He knew where you were when you were missing, he knew a lot of what you went through. He knew that you were scared Diavolo would be like your last horrid excuse of a headmaster, and he knew that the brothers, and others, reminded you of your friends from the time you went missing.

But even Barbatos can miss things. It's rare, but it does happen, and he doesn't always realize it right away. However, he always does his damnedest to fix, or take a second look at what he missed the first time.

Barbatos had welcomed you into his kitchen numerous times. If he didn't want your help, you wouldn't, but you were good at taking care of little tasks when asked, to make things easier for him. And while the silence that filled the room was always warm, and comforting, light conversation wouldn't hurt. At least, that was what he assumed.

He had decided to make a chestnut tart, and you couldn't help but think back to your first official day as a student at Night Raven, or rather, the night before. It was a fond memory. One that you laughed at when you looked back on it.

"What has you chuckling over there?" Barbatos asked, a teasing tone slipping into his normally formal speech pattern.

"Just, thinking about my old school."

"You do not often talk about Night Raven, so do tell me if I am out of line by asking, but what are you thinking?"

"My first official day as a student there, or, the night before, a friend of mine came to my door with a collar around his neck. Apparently, his housewarden had put it on him, for eating a tart. A chestnut tart," you smiled, lifting up the handful of chestnuts you had been holding, so that he could see, "and we had to do this whole big thing to get enough chestnuts to remake the tart, and it ended up being all in vain, but I think it was fun."

"A collar? Like a dogs collar?"

"Sort of. It's kind of hard to explain, but it took away his magic, as punishment."

"For eating a tart?"

"Yeah, Riddle... he was going overboard on the rules. But he was doing better when I left." You admitted. "This was the first time my friends had relied on their upperclassmen for help, and I got to meet some of my friends that way. Trey was an exceptional baker. And Cater... Cater didn't like sweets." He laughed at the way I phrased it. "Cater was nice! I didn't mean it in a bad way!" You tried to defend, but he just laughed harder. "No! Stop laughing!" You laughed.

After the two of you calmed down, a silence fell over you once more. It was comfortable, but something was telling you to reach out. If anyone would understand, even a little bit, it might be Barbatos. And even if he didn't, Barbatos has always been someone you can rely on. It wasn't like he'd judge you, Barbatos was nice like that.

"It wasn't long after that, that Riddle Overblotted." You admitted quietly. You knew he heard you, you could've barely breathed it, and he still would've heard you, he was perceptive like that. "That was the first, of seven Overblots that I had to deal with. And, admittedly, he was one of those I had the best relationship with afterward, aside from maybe Hornton. But, that's because I was friends with two of Riddles first year students." You shrugged.

"You sound quite fond of this Riddle."

"He was a friend." You hummed. "Riddle was great, and he was doing a lot better when I left. I like to think I had something to do with that. But I was closer to other people. Like Ace and Deuce. And Grim."

"Who?"

"Which one?"

"Grim. You have spoken a bit about Ace and Deuce before, comparing the arguments Mammon has with his brothers to arguments they would have. But I know nothing of this Grim."

"Grim was my cat. Well, to be honest, I don't know if he was a cat. I call him a cat, because he looked like a cat, and he kind of acted like one, but I don't know what he was." You admitted, finishing your task. You stopped, and turned fully to face Barbatos' back. "He could speak, and fly, and breathe fire. He could use magic. That's how come we got stuck together. But I wouldn't change that for the world, I could really rely on Grim."

"To chase away rats?"

"He would do that, yes," you laughed at his question, "but mostly if I was in danger, I could rely on him to help. I mean, I'm magicless, and I was in a magic school. I needed him, and he needed me." You smiled, looking at all the peeled chestnuts, and thinking of all the fond memories of your cat.

"Do you miss him?"

"Yes. I miss him more than anything." Your head snapped up to look at Barbatos who had turned to face you. "Please don't misunderstand, I love it here. Everyone is so great! I just miss my cat. He's been such a big part of my life for such a long time, it just feels weird without him, you know?" He nodded.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, and for once, it was stifling. You could tell he was angry, but you didn't know at what. For him, he was upset, because he knew a little bit about what had happened, but he didn't know that you'd had to deal with a life-threatening situations like Overblots before. He felt terrible that he couldn't protect you.

"So, grind the chestnuts, yes?" You asked, wanting to break the palpable tension in the air.

"Oh, yes." He nodded. "And MC?" You looked up at him, waiting for him to finish speaking. "You can always talk to me. About anything."

"Thanks Barbatos. I appreciate that." You smiled, before turning back to your task.

He didn't say anything more than that, but you felt the tension slowly disappear. You didn't know that the chestnuts he was grinding up, he was imagining were tiny skulls of your previous headmaster, as he plotted his demise. But he didn't let you know that, wanting you to feel comfortable talking about your past in his presence, or to him in general.

Simeon:

Simeon was someone you felt drawn to. You didn't know why at first, but you chalked it up to either him being an angel, or him simply being a person you felt was good, and you hadn't been around anyone that purely good in a long time. He didn't mind very much, he thought you were lovely. Despite your flaws, and imperfections, he loved to spend time with you.

It helped that you loved Luke, and were very willing to help him whenever you could. You were always so nice to Luke, and to Simeon, which is what made him like you quite a bit. He knew something had happened, but you had made it pretty clear that you didn't want to talk about it, in a rather polite way. And he respected that. He didn't want to push you before you were ready.

While a lot of the time that you were over at Purgatory Hall, you were baking with Luke, or studying with Solomon, you did take the time to just exist with Simeon. You could be doing separate activities in the same area, and occasionally asking a question, or having a full-blown conversation very animatedly with him. He didn't care which. He just liked your presence. It's nice to be around someone who has common sense.

Simeon, for all his angelic qualities and traits, has an aura that makes you want to open up. He's very warm, and inviting. You find yourself having to restrain yourself from talking about the past with him, because you don't really want to put that on him. You knew that it was inevitable, but you kept putting it off, not wanting to have him ask questions about your past.

Occasionally, you would take naps in Purgatory Hall. With Simeon and Luke's angelic presence, it wasn't often you had nightmares while there. It seemed that they warded off nightmares simply by existing. But that means nothing when they were both out of the house, and Solomon was in his bedroom, looking for a book, leaving you to fend for yourself in your horrible dreamscape.

Simeon returned from dropping Luke off with Barbatos, to see you asleep on the couch of their living room. He smiled at the sight, one that he was accustomed to seeing every now and then. But his brows furrowed when he noticed your tense expression, and how you seemed to be breathing a bit heavier than would be normal. He glided over, graceful as ever, and gently kneeled next to you, placing a comforting hand on your face.

It was warm, like a comforting hug from your grandma, or when it's just starting to get warm during spring. Your expression eased, feeling comforted by his presence and touch, and you woke up soon after, your nightmare no longer existing, and your brain waking up.

You groaned lightly, opening your eyes slowly, still adjusting to the light. You saw Simeon sitting there, smiling at you, his thumb rubbing your cheek comfortingly. You smiled back at him, soothed by knowing he was there. He backed away, allowing you to sit up, and he took a seat beside you on the couch.

"Did you have a nice nap?"

"It was ok." You smiled, strained a little from realizing that you'd been having a nightmare, and Simeon's presence was what warded it off, not from it ending naturally.

"You looked like you were having a nightmare." He gently prodded.

"I was." You admitted, nodding to your own words.

"Would you like to talk about it?" He asked, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

"It... it's hard for me to discuss sometimes." You admitted, looking away from him. "It's not like my memories of my time at my previous college are all good. Most of them are. The memories of studying, and my friends, along with the things that I learned, the things I experienced, and the people I met, they're all amazing. I wouldn't trade those for the world. However," you hesitated, pausing for a moment to try to choose the right words, as Simeon remained silent, simply listening to you, "there were many instances in which I suffered. It wasn't always easy, living there, and dealing with Crowley. My life was in danger quite often. And there was usually little that could be done to prevent such things, other than training. And their training consisted mostly of magical training which as we know, I don't have, so it was useless to me. Grim was always so happy to learn more about it, even if he hated studying, he always did want to learn more about magic, and become a great mage."

"That sounds like something Satan would admire."

"Well," you laughed at Simeon's gentle comment, "Grim is more like Mammon than he is Satan, so while Satan loves cats, and Grim is one, I doubt they'd get along very well, as much as I loathe to admit it." He laughed as well. "I would get nightmares there too."

"What would you do when you got them?"

"Usually, I'd just sit with Grim sleeping on my lap, or lay with him sleeping on my chest, and pet him. I'd pet him and stare at the ceiling, or out the window, until I was too tired and went back to sleep, or until it was time to get up for the day. Grim was the only comfort I had at the time. He and I, we were like an unstoppable duo, you know? Inseparable."

"It sounds like you love your cat very much."

"I do. Grim was one of the few things in that world that brought me comfort. He brought me a lot of stress too," You laughed, "one time he got stuck in a contract and ended up having to serve another Housewarden while underpaying them. I had to find a way to break that contract. Oh, and, and that time he got kidnapped. I had to travel, with help from two students, well, a student and a Vice-Housewarden from another dorm, to help get him back. I love Grim, he's my best friend. Don't tell anyone else I said that though," you joked, raising your pointer finger to your mouth in a shushing gesture, "the demon brothers and others are quite jealous people." He laughed.

"Your secret is safe with me." He assured. You leaned onto him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"You're so good, Simeon. Someone as good as you is rare in the Human Realm, but it felt nonexistent in Night Raven. Everyone had an ulterior motive. It's nice." You hummed.

"You'll always have a place with me. No ulterior motives." He promised, smiling at you.

You separated not long after, as Solomon called out for you, wanting to have you help him with something. But he didn't forget your words. He'd heard Barbatos and Diavolo talk about it, as well as the brothers, so he knew how bad your Headmaster had been, and he had an inkling about the other Housewardens. But he had never heard about your cat being stuck in a contract, or him being kidnapped. It made him worry about what you went through that you weren't telling them.

But he knew he'd always be there for you, no matter what you told him about your past.

Solomon:

You talked to Solomon about your cat, Grim, quite often. It took you a while to open up to him, but when you did, you told him about Grim, and your friend group. All the happy memories that you made together. You always alluded to the not so happy memories, skirting around them, and dodging his questions when he asked. Doing so told him more than you realized.

It told him that you weren't comfortable talking about it. It told him that the bad times were really bad, and you likely didn't want him to direct any rage against one specific person. For a while it made him think you didn't trust him, but once he realized you weren't telling anyone about these parts of your past, he realized it wasn't just a thing you did with him.

Solomon loves to learn about Grim. The fact that he looks like a cat only adds to his curiosity. He wants to meet him, wants to know what he looks like, and why he's able to do all that he is. You made him swear not to summon him just to dissect him, or pester him with questions he doesn't have an answer to. Of course, this was after you made him swear not to summon him without telling you.

He realized after a while, that you weren't homesick for Night Raven. You never considered that place a home, and told him as such. But you missed the people. Especially Grim. You miss your friends, the people you considered family. He did look into interdimensional travel, but it wasn't so easily done, and it wasn't something he could do on a whim. Even just summoning one person or creature from another world wasn't very easy. Even for Solomon the Wise, who was an extremely powerful sorcerer, it wasn't going to be simple.

"Can you pass me that?" He asked, pointing at an ingredient on the table as he read his spell book.

"What're you doing?" You asked. "I mean, what's this potion meant to do?"

"It's a simple healing potion, but this recipe is new, I've not seen it before, so a colleague of mine asked me to peer review it." Holding the jar he had pointed at, you peeked over his shoulder.

"Oh I know this one!" You beamed. "Crewel taught it to us."

"Crewel is?"

"The potions teacher! He also taught poison refining. This was the first potion he taught us."

"Really?" He asked, looking at it. "That's strange. How on earth did the same recipe occur in both?"

"I mean, it's not really that strange." You shrugged. "Minor healing potions are pretty common in both worlds." You said, looking at the measurements. "It's not that weird that someone managed to figure out how to make the same potion in both worlds. The measurements are off in this one though."

"How do you know?"

"Crewel is very specific, and also Grim kept messing it up. By the end of that class, I had the recipe memorized because of how many times I did it." You told him. "Here, let me just,"

You picked up a pencil, and penciled on a separate, blank piece of paper, the recipe you had memorized, and showed it to him. He compared the two, noting the small difference in measurements that didn't line up with doubling or halfing the recipe. The ingredients were the same, or mostly the same. It was likely they had the same effects, and were similar, despite being from two different worlds.

"Why don't we make both recipes? One according to your measurements, and one according to theirs. That way we can give them your recipe if yours ends up being better." He suggested.

"Sounds like fun." You smiled.

A moment of silence passed over the two of you, light requests for ingredients came from him, and you obliged. It wasn't tense, not by any means, but he could tell there was something you wanted to tell him. He didn't pry though, knowing you'd tell him when you sorted it out yourself.

"I think you'd like him."

"Crewel?"

"Yeah. He was very smart, and an awesome teacher. He'd let me hang out in his office sometimes while I was doing schoolwork. I bet you'd like a lot of my friends. A lot of them were really chaotic, but that's part of their charm." He laughed. "Grim added to that chaos, definitely. But they were just as chaotic without him." You smiled at the memories. "Crewel, or perhaps Trein, would be a much better fit for headmaster than Crowley. I'm sure you'd approve of both."

"I've heard you speak of Crowley, vaguely, but I don't know if I've ever heard you say very much about him, in general. Is he really that bad of a headmaster?"

"He is a bad headmaster. Full stop." You told him. "You'd be a better headmaster than he was. Hell, at the rate he was going, Belphegor, would be a better headmaster than him."

"Belphegor sleeps more than he's awake."

"I'm aware of the comparison I've made." You nodded to your own words. "I was more of a headmaster than he was, towards the end of my stay there. Always doing his paperwork, and handling his duties." You muttered bitterly. "Crewel and Trein did try to make it easier on me, whenever they could, but they were full-time teachers, so they couldn't very often." You shrugged. "It was what it was. Can't change it now."

"Was Grim never any help?"

"No, not usually. But he was pretty good at taking our friend group away from me when I was about to explode from stress so I didn't blow up at them." You acknowledged. "And he did like to sit with me as I did the work, usually on my shoulders, or my lap."

"Sounds like he liked to keep you company."

"Grim and I were practically inseparable." You smiled. "We did have other friends. Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, even Sebek, but Grim and I were still really close. I think you'd like them all."

"I think you forget that I'd likely be the oldest one there."

"In my friend group, yeah, probably. But certainly not the oldest in the school. I mean, Malleus is a fae, and he's pretty old despite looking and acting rather young. And Lilia is even older. Granted, I don't know either of their exact ages, they're funny like that, never very forthcoming with information about themselves." You explained. "And I'm sure they'd still be fun to be around, my friend group. I mean, you've got Ace and Deuce, who never stop fighting, Grim, who is a talking, flying, fire-breathing cat-like creature, Jack, who's a very loyal wolf beastman who can turn into a wolf, Epel, who looks somewhat but is the epitome of a raised on a farm in the middle of nowhere southern boy, and Sebek, the half-fae who has trouble with volume control and social cues of humans." You laughed as you explained them as if they were strange foreign beings, rather than some of your very best friends. "I miss them." You smiled, fondly, as you thought of them.

"I'm still looking." Solomon said simply, as he continued with what he was doing. He looked up. "You'll be the first to know if I find anything."

"I appreciate that." You nodded.

Nothing more was said until Solomon finished both potions, a silent acknowledgement of the fact that you felt comfortable enough with him to want to introduce him to those you hold dear was enough to keep him from wanting to break the silence. Just the thought of you trusting him that much was enough to make him giddy. It made him realize that to you, he wasn't Shady Solomon, or Solomon the Wise. He was Solomon. Your friend. Someone you care very deeply for.

He continued to do his research after that. Looking for a way back to Twisted Wonderland. He wanted to meet your friends, and your cat. He wanted you to be able to see and talk to them again. He wanted to be able to see the place you lived, and watch as you interacted with your friends, be a part of this important piece of you. And, if he happened to find a way to transform your former Headmaster into a crow, and give him to Diavolo or Lucifer as a gift, under the guise that he accidentally summoned a new type of crow that was even more intelligent than the average one, then you'd never hear about it from him. You might hear about it from them. But that's a bridge he'll cross later.

Luke: (STRICTLY PLATONIC)

"What! You mean to tell me you've met someone who's a better baker than Barbatos and me?"

"I didn't say better, Luke." You laughed. "I said on par with. You guys are on the same level. And since you're from different worlds, imagine the recipes you guys could swap."

Luke was always eager to learn about your past. He got disappointed when you didn't tell him much, but he was the first you really started talking about your fond memories with. Your fond memories of the food there, that is.

He learned first about the horrors of Lilia's cooking, when he saw you being able to choke down Solomon's cooking. He didn't question it until Solomon was gone, but then you regaled him with tales of how awful such an ancient being could be at cooking. He made a vow to himself that day, and to you, for self-preservation, that he and you should never let those two meet.

But soon after he learned of the wonderful cooks and bakers. He learned first of Jade, Floyd, and Azul, who's cooking you had most often, as they gave you an employee discount. He learned of Jade's love of mushrooms, Floyd's love of Takoyaki, and Azul's love of fried chicken. He heard of their wonderful menu, and how Jade liked to experiment with mushrooms, and how Floyd's level of cooking depended on his moods.

He learned of Jamil, and his wonderful cooking, combining a variety of spices, along with the sheer amount he cooked on an average basis. He learned of Kalim's lavish parties, the load of cooking that each party demanded, and how often you were invited.

You talked of the wonderful takeout that Idia would order, along with the lectures you'd both get on nutrition from Ortho afterwards. You held Ruggie in high reverence, citing how he taught you the best ways to stretch a budget and cook on that budget. You compared Vil's diets to Asmodeus's, explaining their strictness and the reasons behind it.

Out of everyone, it seemed he knew the most about your last school, even if only through how often you talked about the food. He tried his best to recreate the dishes you really liked when you talked about them, and others he simple listened in wonder, wondering how these dishes worked, how they tasted.

He learned last of Trey. You specifically kept that away from him, as a sort of homage, so he could learn about who you knew would be his favorite one last. Trey who was raised in a bakery, and made some of the best sweets you've ever had. You knew he and Luke would get along, and you also thought it was a shame that they'd likely never meet.

"Trey was raised in a bakery, so he grew up baking. He's made sweets that I've never had before, and he's an expert at so many of them." You smiled at the memory. "Trey and you would get along great, I'm sure of it."

"You said that about Kalim and Epel too."

"Well, you're just so likeable. And so are they." You shrugged, laughing as he crossed his arms, not satisfied with that answer. "I'm sure that you'd all get along, Luke. Because you are all wonderful people." You smiled.

"Tell me about Grim again."

"Again?" You asked in a playfully incredulous tone, smiling at him as he enthusiastically nodded. You decided to play along, since the treats you both were baking were in the oven.

"Grim was my cat. My best friend. We lived together, we slept together, we ate together. He and I did everything together. He was very mischievous, and never wanted to study. He called me Henchman, and he loved his cans of tuna." You told him, having recited this information to him a number of times. "Grim loved food. And he'd eat anything. He and I were in it together, we were never apart. I could trust him more than anything. And he could always depend on me, should he need to. We were two halves of a whole, literally." You hummed.

"Was Grim that much of a glutton?"

"Oh yes. He ate anything. The only person who could get him to stop eating would be Kalim. Because he'd stuff him so full, and then continue to try to make him eat. I had to lecture him a number of times because he just wouldn't stop. I was, usually, unsuccessful." You sighed. "But Kalim always meant well. And he got it eventually! Now that I think of it, the only other person who could get Grim to stop eating would probably be Lilia, because he just couldn't stand his cooking." You both shuddered, at the thought of someone as bad at cooking as Solomon.

"He sounds a lot like Beelzebub."

"That's the first time I've heard that comparison." You acknowledged. "But no, Grim was more like Mammon. Loyal to a fault, greedy as hell. He called me Henchman, like how Mammon calls me Human. And they were both always there when you needed them, no matter how much trouble they got into along the way."

"I wish I could meet him."

"I wish that too. I wish you could meet all my friends. I think they'd really like you. But, I think we'd be staying away from Lilia if he's been in the kitchen." You laughed, and Luke quickly nodded in agreement.

[heizlut]

Breeding kink with Razor

this is so fitting for him, i love it! i’m adjusting his speech pattern slightly just so it flows a little better, hope you don’t mind❤️

Instincts

cw: public sex, breeding, biting/marking, ovulation, mentions of pregnancy

tags: switch fem!reader, switch!razor, he’s literally 18 so scroll away if you have an issue xoxo💋

nsfw under the cut

m!list here

⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎

You and Razor had a bit of an odd relationship. He came across you months ago, spying behind a tree in Wolvendom when you made your first appearance there. He was wary of you, not sure if you were friendly or there to hunt the wolves he called family. Once he saw you were only there for the wolfhook each time you came, he started to gain the courage to get closer.

In truth, you had started going there because you had heard about him through the Knights of Favonius and wanted to see him for yourself. You knew he was watching, but you didn't want to startle him, so each time you came you only gathered some wolfhook and went on your way. Each day was the same routine, until one day he approached you, still a little wary of you, "...Nice?"

Those were his first words to you. Your eyes landed on him and you smiled brightly, "I am." You were captured by the way he looked; toned muscles, scars across his body and face, long thick silver hair, and crimson eyes. He was better than you had imagined, even if his manner of speech was a little strange. After letting Razor smell your neck, he smiled at you telling you that you smelled like a flower.

Every quirk he had was so cute to you. Weeks passed and each day you would visit Razor, getting to know each other and he grew to trust you immensely. You even had been helping him speak in more proper sentences, although that was still a work in progress. You would be a fool to miss the way his gaze lingered on you and the way he would get as close to you as he could without outright being on top of you.

You looked to him, only to see Razor had already been staring at you. He tilted his head a little as you studied each other in silence. You were the first one to break it, "Do you want to be with me?" The look of confusion on his face made you giggle, "Am with you now, no?" How cute and innocent he was... You shook your head still laughing, "I mean romantically."

Razor's eyebrows scrunched as he repeated the word back to you, clearly unsure of what it meant. You didn't think words would help you out with this, so you reached up and turned his face to yours, pressing a kiss to his lips. He knew what you meant now as he melted into the kiss. Ever since then, you two were inseparable. Which bring us to the present.

The sun was setting, low in the sky, when you made your way to your usual spot. Before you could even call out to him, Razor pounced on you, knocking you both to the ground and making you squeal, "Razor wha-" Your words are cut off when you feel something hard press against your core and his nose lightly grazing your skin as he takes in your scent, "You smell...Different. Good..."

Your cheeks immediately heat up. You were ovulating and he could smell it. Did he even know what that meant? Razor's nose trails down your body til it reaches your cunt, his nose pressing against your clothed clit, making you suck in a breath. He nudges it again, then his eyes flick up to yours, "Here. New good smell... I want more." He doesn't wait for your response before he starts tugging down your pants.

"Razor wait! We're outside... What if someone comes?", your voice came out a little breathy, feeling an aching need at your center. Razor tilts his head, "Why care? No one comes." He was right. People usually avoided coming to Wolvendom. Besides, you were more needy and sensitive than usual because of your ovulation. You just wanted to be filled. You end up lifting your hips slightly to help Razor who continued to tug at your pants.

The warm breeze brushing against your exposed pussy made your scent even more potent to him. Razor immediately begins lapping at your cunt, drawing a sweet moan from within you. The way his tongue circled your clit and lapped at your arousal made you tug his hair. He practically growls when you do so, not wanting to separate himself from something so new and delicious, so he latches on to it. Razor’s lips suck your clit into his mouth while his tongue continues it’s lashings. Your head falls back against the soft grass as you come undone on his tongue.

The taste was even more divine than it smelled, making him continue and overstimulate you. Your legs shake hard and you tug his hair hard with a soft cry of his name. Razor glances up at you curiously but annoyed you wanted to pull him from this. His mouth open and tongue still against your clit. “Come here…” your voice is shaky as you try to get him to listen. Thankfully, he finally does, crawling up and caging you in with his body, “Why? Wasn’t finished…” You roll your hips up making your bare cunt grind against his bulge, “I want you inside me.”

Razor lets out a deep groan as you grind up into him, “What in where? Help..” You knew he was legitimately clueless but him asking you to be so specific sparked something inside of you. It turned you on. “I need your cock in my pussy. Fill me up. Breed me.” Those last two words did it. Oh he knew what that meant alright. Razor fumbles with his pants, wanting to free his throbbing length. You almost laugh at how hard he’s trying and you take over. Catching him off guard, you roll the both of you over, you now caging him in. You smirk when he looks up at you with surprise, “Let me do it.”

Razor almost pouts but stops the minute your hand wraps around his cock, his eyes goes wide at the new sensation and at a loss for words. He has so many questions but they’d have to wait because now your were slowly sinking yourself down onto his dick. He grips onto your hips as though you would disappear from him any second and his eyes almost roll back, “Good…. So good…”

Once you were fully seated on top of him, you begin to move slowly. You grind against him and then begin to move yourself, letting his cock drag in and out of your walls at a brutally slow pace. Every time his cock went back in to the hilt, Razor felt he was going insane. So much so that now he flipped the position yet again, leaning down to lick at your neck, and he growls, “Too slow.” Before you can even ask what he means, he begins thrusting inside your tight wet cunt as if this would be the first and last time he ever got to fuck you. You cry out, digging your nails into his scarred back, your legs wrapping around his toned waist to keep him close.

The growls and grunts that fall from Razor’s lips sound so primal, as if he’s just running in instinct at this point. And he really truly is. Every since he smelled that delicious scent, his instincts were telling him he needed to fuck you so full of his cum and make you swell with his children. The sounds coming from both of you and from the way his balls slapped against your ass and the way your pussy squelched with each hard thrust was so incredibly lewd. Razor leans back down to your neck, biting hard enough to break skin as he growls once more, “Mine.” This brings you completely over the edge, your sweet pussy pulsating around his cock as you cum.

It’s not long til Razor follow suit. He latches onto the mark he gave you, letting out a muffled, husky groan as he fills you with his potent load. The way his cock throbs inside of you makes you feel overstimulated for the second time that day. Razor stays still for a moment, not wanting to pull out. Not wanting to be done. He wanted to see your breasts grow bigger and your stomach swell. He wanted to make you his for life. The thought alone makes his cock begin to harden inside of you once more and he looks into your eyes, “Again.”

⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓃦⚡︎

a/n: this makes me want to write knotting/omegaverse fics😭

[urmomschocolatemilk]

Simon Riley x Alternative!fem!reader

I went thrifting td with a friend and got this idea. Reminder that my inbox is open ghost headcanons and requests

If there was one thing Simon knew about you from the moment the two of you met, it was that you loved to sew. Almost every piece of clothing you owned was handmade or altered. You’d cut up shirts, using the lace or frill at the top and add it to another piece of clothing. You’d tailor dresses and shirts for your friends and family and always patch up Simon's on base uniform.  

You weren't sure what made sitting in front of the sewing machine, eyes trained on a certain strip of whatever you were working on that was so therapeutic but it was. Not only was it that you loved the art of sewing, but in-store brands never seemed to have something you liked, or fit your personal style, so being able to make your own clothing really came in handy.

Your birthday was coming around and Simon, being the best boyfriend he was, had already picked a restaurant and booked a reservation. What you didn't know however, was that he’d been learning to sew for the past couple of months because he wanted to make you a dress that you would absolutely adore. He knew nothing he could buy would cut it, and he also knew that you loved handmade gifts. So, he found that this was the perfect gift. 

Now Simon knew what you liked about your clothes and what you didn't. For example, you didn't like light tones because you felt they highlighted any hyperpigmentation you had. Or that you didn't like to wear dresses with too high a slit on the side because you felt that it caused the fabric to fall weirdly around your legs.

Even with all this knowledge Simon didn't want to get it wrong. He wanted this gift to be perfect and as previously stated, something you’d adore. So, he stole your sketch book, which contained every preview of a design you’d created in the past year and flipped through it. Taking mental notes of each similarity and alteration.  

The week after that Simon enrolled in a regularly scheduled sewing class to begin working on his project. Simon did feel out of place there, especially at the start. He was the only man there, let alone a 6’2 military buff, but the instructor didn't treat him any differently, and he didnt pay any mind to it either.

“You want this to be your first project?” the teacher asked when Simon first showed her the sketch. He nodded. “This is quite difficult for a beginner. You understand that, yes?”

Simon shrugged ‘It’s going to be a gift.”  

Every week, twice a week Simon showed up to class. He never skipped a session. He needed this dress to be perfect. It took a month for him to get it looking decent, and then another half month to get it looking perfect. It seemed he was a fast learner.  

Finally, he was able to take it home, and the first place it went was to the dry cleaners. He wasn't going to risk throwing his masterpiece, and more importantly, your gift, into the washing machine to get ruined. Then when he picked it up he folded it neatly and placed it in a gorgeous red velvet box he had bought.  

Hiding it was easier than Simon had expected it to be, considering that you lived together and every part of the house was easily accessible to you. The only thing you didn't ever touch was his desk. So, he decided to keep it there, placing it at the bottom of the desk cabinet and neatly stacking some papers and folders around it to keep it concealed.   

Finally, the day came around and you were just about ready to begin getting ready for dinner when he stopped you mid-way into the bathroom.  

“I want to show you something,” Simon said, taking your hand and sitting you down on the bed. You furrowed your eyebrows, slightly concerned.  

“Is everything okay?” You asked  

“Just wait here,” he told you, walking swiftly out of the room and into his office. Simon rarely smiled, like really smiled, but when he came back into the room, red velvet box in hand his lips were turned up in subtle excitement.  

“What's this?” you asked with a grin, taking the box from him and running your hand over the soft, plush exterior.  

“Your birthday present," he answers. Simon is nervous as he watches you lift the lid, placing it gently next to you and taking out the soft fabric in the box. Your lips part in awe as you realize what it is, and you pinch it at the top, holding it out in front of you and letting it unravel itself. He watches as your eyes glaze over it slowly, taking in every detail. You love it. 

“Where did you get this?” you ask, not taking your eyes off the beautiful piece of fabric. He swears he can see your eyes glittering in the light as you look at the dress.  

“I made it.” He states. You’re already smiling, but when you hear his answer, your smile widens. You look beautiful, he thinks.  

“You made this?” You repeat excitedly, your head turning to look up at him. He nodded. “This is gorgeous baby!” You were so touched by the length and effort he had put into something for you. You knew he didn't know how to sew so the fact that he learned to and took the time to learn what you liked and didn't like made your heart bloom with adoration.  

“You like it lovie’?” he asked. You nodded profusely, setting the dress aside as you stood and threw your arms around him. Pressing a kiss to his lips you answered.  

“I love it.” 

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 11

As soon as Alex and her family are safely in a car on the way to a hotel, Kara and Lena board Lena's jet back to the states. During the flight, Lena curls in on herself, picking nervously at her cuticles with a worried, guilty expression.

"Hey," Kara says, pulling Lena's gaze towards her. Her features remain heavy. "I'm not mad."

At that, Lena's face softens, but only enough to grimace with a soft huff. "You're not the one I'm worried about."

Kara must look confused, because Lena soon continues.

"As a rule, my mother knows who I spend my time with, and when." The guilt returns. "Except for you."

"So she didn't know I was in Capri with you..."

Lena confirms it with a shake of her head. "Nor why I went back to National City."

Well... this wouldn't be easy then. Dealing with a rabid press is one thing-- being at odds with one of the key players in keeping her family safe is another.

"I'm sorry," Lena murmurs. "I just... wanted to keep you mine. Just for a little while."

Kara shoots her a look. "I'm still not mad."

"You can be. If you want."

"I don't." She moves seats, switching to the bench Lena's on. She makes no attempt to still Lena's nervous picking, but simply spreads her legs enough for the outsides of their thighs to touch. Kara intends the physical contact to serve as reassurance, but she doesn't know if it works.

"I'm a big girl, Lena. I know I can back out whenever I want to. But I don't. Not yet."

A little bit of warmth cuts through Lena's anxious fog. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Kara's heart beats a little faster, when a small smile answers her. Impulsively, she leans over to kiss Lena's cheek. She feels... giddy? Far more exhilirated she has any right to feel at her age. "Bring it."

----

Lillian Luthor is a slender, austere woman. Kara clocks her the moment the plane lands on the tarmac, tall and styled in her designer clothes and looks that only money and astronomically good genes could provide.

Only Kara witnesses the short beat Lena takes before stepping out of the plane, bracing herself for whatever follows. Kara keeps pace with her once they descend the ladder in single file. She may not be driving this bus, but she is no shrinking flower. In this, she is Lena's equal.

Not that the look Lillian gives her would have anyone believe.

"In the car," the woman orders. "Now."

Lena obeys without a word. Kara is a little slower to fall in line, but ultimately follows Lena's lead. Lillian climbs in behind them, leaving Jess and a woman Kara doesn't recognize to scramble on board last.

"The family is checked into the Lariat. So far no indication that they've been identified, but its still early."

"What about Kara?"

"What about you??" Lillian demands, tone scathing in its heat. "What were you thinking?"

Kara sees Lena wilt, and anger bubbles up in her throat. "Don't talk to her like that--"

"You have zero business here," Lillian fires back with steel in her voice.

"Mom!" Lena exclaims in Kara's defense. "It's not that big a deal--"

Ice blue eyes turn on Lena, freezing her to the spot. "It's a big enough deal that you saw fit to sneak behind my back, with a woman twice your age no less--"

"Mom!"

"Timeline, now."

Lena's shoulders sag, but says nothing. Looking to divert some of Lillian's ire, Kara moves to speak up. "We--"

"She already knows," Lena rolls her eyes.

"I do," her mother confirms. "But I'll hear it from you nonetheless."

Lena huffs. "Night two of the National City stop. Her niece left her phone backstage, and we exhanged numbers."

"Then?"

"Texting."

The exhange sounds like a repeat of one they've had many times before. Neither Jess nor the other woman-- who Kara assumes is Lillian's own assistant-- look at all nervous at the rapidfire crossing of words.

"Texting?" Lillian demands. "Or sexting?"

Kara bristles. "I don't see how that's any of your--"

"*Texting*, Mom, god!" Lena seethes. Her cheeks are bright red, from anger or embarassment or both. "Will you just--"

"Just *what* Lena?"

Lillian's voice is so sharp Kara can see the moment it cuts Lena down. Her jaw tightens, and when Kara sublty shifts to take her hand, Lena shifts away.

Satisfied that her daughter is suitably in line, Lillian turns to her assistant. "Mercy, have PR prepare a statement. The photos were misconstrued, they simply capture a couple of friends taking in the sights."

"Mom, no," Lena croaks. "I don't want-- who cares if people know that I'm gay--?"

"You are not gay!"

Lena flinches, features blanching as though Lillian had landed a physical blow. Only then does Lillian seem to realize that she's talking to an actual person. Her tone doesn't soften, exactly, but it doesn't sharpen any further.

"Your *brand* isn't," she amends, likely the closest thing to thing to an apology Lena would get.

"I thought Lena is the brand," Kara interjects.

Lillian's frigid gaze snaps to her. "She is."

"Her fans are more open-minded than you think--"

"Her fans don't buy tickets," Lillian informs her coolly. "Their parents do. And *they* are far less forgiving."

Kara looks towards Lena, who meets her gaze with a helpless one of her own. It's not untrue-- Esme hadn't bought her tickets, after all.

"Then what do we do?" Kara allows finally.

"Cut ties. Immediately." Lillian looks down her nose at Kara, her regard as condescending as though she were speaking to a teenager, not a women merely ten years her junior.

"No."

To Kara's surprise, Lena's response is faster than her own, and carries only the barest of trembles.

"Don't be foolish..."

"I'm not--"

"Do you love her?"

Lena freezes. Her gaze flicks to Kara. "It's only been a few weeks..."

"Precisely. Cut ties now, before--"

"But I want to," Lena finishes. This time, her gaze lingers on Kara's, a small smile warming her eyes. "I want to love her."

Lillian scoffs low in her throat. "You're too old to be play the love sick teenager. Or have you forgotten what happened last time?"

Kara watches Lena hold her mother's gaze, something heavy passing between them, inscrutable to anyone else. But Lena holds her ground, and surprisingly, Lillian is the one to back down.

"Then what would you suggest?"

"Like you said-- we give them something else to talk about." Lena swallows, but forges ahead. "I have some new material, I can perform it live in Paris."

Lillian purses her lips, but doesn't smack down the idea. She considers it, her gaze calculating. "And you two?"

"We do what we want," Lena delivers firmly. "No statement, no confirmation or denial. Let people see interpret it however they want. However they need."

Kara thinks of the young fans, isolated in their orientations or identities, seeing themselves reflected in their favorite artist. The gift that would be, the vote of confidence needed to dream of a future where what Lena and Kara share might be theirs.

Lillian shoots Kara a hard glare. "And you? It's your family in the crossfire if this idea goes to shit."

"Then it goes to shit, and we deal with it."

It might be selfish of her, but in all of their conversations, neither Alex or Kelly have suggested backing off. They spoke only of adapting, of overcoming, and Kara knows she has their unspoken support. And even now, being talked down to and chided, she feels happier sitting next to Lena in this moment than she has in years.

Lillian barely contains her snort of derision.

"Very well," she concedes, with a sharp note of criticism. Then she turns from them entirely to speak with Mercy in low tones.

Kara takes advantage of the moment to lean closer to Lena, murmuring in her ear.

"I want to go to Paris with you."

Lena blinks at her. "You don't have to--"

"Would you feel better if I were there?" Kara asks bluntly. Lena deflates a little, but this time in relief rather than shame.

"Yeah."

"Then let me come." Kara gives Lena's hand a squeeze, and is rewarded with a tired smile. "You're not alone in this."

"Okay," Lena says, her smile deepening into a challenge. "Let's bring it."

[sweetfushi]

hihihihi i hope ur having a very good day and that this request is even understandable and grammatically correct!!!!!! this thought has been plaguing my mind sososos much but i reallyreallylyly want just a short drabble or anything w jjk (any character u find that fits best idm) of them like drawing a bath n washing your hair after a long day or smth smth (nooooottttttt in a suggestive way plsplsplspls)

okay thats it >3< !!!! im praying this doesnt come off as pushy T_T

PAMPERING YOU AFTER A LONG DAY

fluff | satoru gojo, toji fushiguro, kento nanami x reader, stress, frustration, running you a bath, washing you, no suggestiveness just pure fluff and comfort <3 | word count. 1.7k ◦ notes. hihihihi nonnie!! don't worry your grammar is fine and you didn't come off as pushy at all, i hope you enjoy mwah

SATORU GOJO.

Satoru can tell something is up when you toss your decently-expensive blazer haphazardly on your desk, showing little care when it inevitably slips and falls on the ground. He doesn’t need you to tell him, he picks it up in an instant and throws it on the back of your office chair.

“I would ask how work went but you don’t look like you’re in the mood to answer questions,” he huffs, somewhat amused. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure today was a universally terrible day at work. Everyone on the street looked miserable as hell,” he assures you through the kiss he places to the top of your head.

“Oh I’m sure,” you mumble, recalling the frustration you experienced facing your arrogant supervisor. “Sorry, that tone wasn’t aimed at you.”

“I didn’t think it was, dove, but thank you for the reassurance,” he laughs softly, the breathy sound evidence of his own exhaustion.

Satoru starts to head out of your office to let you settle down, but pauses in the doorway. You barely pay him any mind other than a small smile as you pull your laptop out of your bag and place it on your desk, and mutter incoherently about how disgusting the five empty snack wrappers in your bag are. He continues to watch as you let down your hair from its bun toss your hair tie beside your laptop.

“Come to the bathroom in ten. Vanilla or floral?”

You squint. “What?”

“Scent. Pick.”

“Why are you talking in half-sentences? And vanilla.”

“Why aren’t you used to it? And alright,” he retorts with a long finger pointing at you, before narrowly dodging the pen you throw at him by rushing out the doorway and seeking refuge in the bathroom.

The bathroom that, ten minutes later, you find yourself being pampered in. Satoru is sat on a stool beside the bathtub as you soak in the water, stretching your legs and fluttering your lashes at the therapy the hot water provides to your aching muscles. Speaking of, you don’t have to strain a single one as Satoru doesn’t let you lift a finger. He’s massaging your shampoo into your hair, gently scratching your scalp and inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla.

The water reaches your chest and provides the perfect height for you to make shapes with the bubbles and bring them close to your face to inspect before blowing away. He watches as you repeat this process with multiple shapes, some more recognisable than others, and feels himself desiring to kiss you.

“Do you think–,” the moment you turn your head to ask, Satoru’s lips meet yours quickly yet so dreamily and so gently. You practically whine into the kiss, both because he cut you off and because you’re caught off guard by how intimate the moment suddenly becomes.

So much so that you’re left panting by the time he pulls away and flashes you a faux innocent smile, to which you glare at him and tense up like a cat when he starts rinsing the shampoo out your hair. After he applies a mask in your hair and clips it up, Satoru struggles to maintain a healthy heart rate when you rest your arms on his knees and your head on them, eyes lowering with the appearance of tiredness.

“I can’t wash you like this, baby.”

“Just for a bit.”

A minute goes by. “How long is a bit?” He finally asks.

“A lot.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“I can finally show you what I’ve been workin’ on,” Toji smirks, taking your hand in his after you manage to shove your shoes off by the door. He’s been working on the spare room you had for a month now and would refuse to let you even peek any time you asked. You assumed that your husband had finally resorted to illegal money-making tactics to fund your lifestyle, but he was (suspiciously) quick to shut that idea down.

When he did need help continuing the project, he had called in a few men you weren’t familiar with to assist. You’d complain about the random men in your house, to which he’d pull you in for a kiss on your temple and insist that it’s worth it.

He unlocks the door to the room and rushes behind you to cover your eyes. “Is this necessary? You’ve already made me wait a month.”

“A few seconds more can’t hurt,” he retorts with a snicker at your enthusiasm. He uses his elbow to push the door open and only when he guides you to step into the room and close the door behind you does he lower his hands from your eyes. “Surprise.”

Surprise was an understatement. Toji had renovated the room to almost appear bigger and function as a spa, with extensive windows along the top of the walls that are big enough to let fresh air in but small enough to not actually show the interior of the room from the outside. A massage table stood in the middle of the room with two tables at either side of it, both neatly organised with numerous body oils, lotions and Vogue magazines.

“If you don’t say something in the next second I’m gonna assume you’re plotting to kill me.”

“I love it.”

“Thank God.”

You giggle at his exaggerated exhale and turn to tackle him in your embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to your height for your own comfort. Toji smiles into your neck, resting his hands on your lower back and letting himself inhale your scent and delightful aura.

“Now,” you start as you break away from the hug, “I believe I’m in need of a masseur.”

Toji - or your masseur - is quick to have you strip down and lay you on your stomach with a white towel over your backside. He laughs at your heavy sigh and the way your head flops down onto the table, simply letting him work one of the oils on your skin and tense muscles. Every so often, when he feels you drifting off to sleep, he’ll bend down and place a kiss on your hairline, sometimes hearing you mumble in response.

His fingers are calloused enough to draw you out of your slumber after a minute or so, but you don’t complain since they’re the same fingers that ward you into that sleep initially. You don’t talk at all aside from a few incoherent murmurs, ones that even when Toji responds with “hm?” to, you don’t repeat or say any clearer. He has to contain the soft, breathy laugh that threatens to escape at your dazed, drowsy state - he doesn’t want to disrupt your peace.

“You good, mama?” Toji asks breathily, slowing his movements momentarily.

You groan in response. “You better keep those hands moving, boy.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You can hear the grin in his voice but can’t find the strength to glare at him for it let alone lift your head to do so.

KENTO NANAMI.

The first thing you notice when you walk through the front door is the delivery bag by the bin. You wonder why it’s not in the bin, but also why it’s here in the first place. You’re certain you have leftovers that are enough to feed you two for the evening. However with closer inspection of the bag, you realise it to be of a bakery that is very much raved about, both at work and on social media.

I’ll be damned if I let this man finish these sweets without me.

“Kento! I’m home!” You call out, expecting a prompt response from the kitchen or living room. Instead, you hear some shifting and clanging upstairs, likely in the bathroom, and hang your jacket up before trotting up the stairs. “Are you okay? What was that sound?”

“Ah, I’m fine, sweetheart. I didn’t anticipate making this much noise, though,” he replies sheepishly just as you push the bathroom door open. Once you do, the aroma of something you can’t quite place your finger on caresses your senses, making you shut your eyes to fully indulge in it. Nanami chuckles at your rapidly relaxed demeanour and dries his hands off before coming over to embrace you.

“Hi,” you smile into the crook of his neck.

“Hi,” he reciprocates, sighing contently at the feeling of your hands roaming the expanse of his back. He shifts you in his arms so that his left is swung over your shoulders, while the other motions towards the relaxation project that is your bathroom. As you let yourself admire the filled bathtub, lit candles and rose petals decorating both the water and some of the floor, you’re reminded of the sweets.

“Do I also get a cake?” You stare up at him pointedly.

Nanami recalls the delivery he made and rubs your left shoulder. “Also isn’t the right word here, I swear I haven’t had any yet,” he laughs breathily, letting you strip while he positions the small tray table on the edges of the bathtub. When you’re finally relieved of your clothes, you practically squeal at the sight of numerous cakes, brownies and fruits decorating the wooden tray, barely giving Nanami enough time to stand before you’re crawling into the tub and snuggling under the warm water.

“Now I know you washed your hair yesterday,” he says as you start to feel his hands gather your hair and clip it up, “which is why I want this to be focused on easing your stress. Both physical and mental forms.”

You’re practically gaping at the rate at which he’s making your heart race from simply his words and gestures. Reluctantly you are to admit that perhaps Nanami deserves to have some of your sweets. Realistically, it would be days before you’d finish them all. “Come here and give me a kiss, you,” is all you respond with, to which Nanami complies eagerly and results in him groaning under the soft feeling of your hands rubbing the back of his neck.

Your hand trails up to scratch his scalp and he shivers in delight, allowing his hand to grasp your jaw gently but with enough grip to make you shiver and smile into the kiss. The kiss that inevitably ends because you need to breathe and let Nanami tend to you.

When he reaches for your body wash, you grab his arm and insist that you eat first. You need some sugar in your system before you crash from sheer relaxation under your husband’s attention.

“Feed me, husband.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “As you wish, my wife.”

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post. all that is included in this post, aside from the photos, fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[nahoney22]

Congratulations on the followers⭐️ I have a scenario I think you’ll absolutely smash! If possible can I have the prompt “I want to help you… if you’ll let me.” With Hunter and a F!reader.

Hunter is quite hard on reader but only because he’s protective but it comes across super badly and one night you had enough of his nagging and go to a bar for a drink but start getting a bit hassled by a drunk patron and hunter comes to help you out? BUT reader can fully handle herself bc bossbitch 😆 Would love it to be angsty, classic enemies to lovers and it may end with a little smooch?

Thank you if you do this and no worries if not ♥️

4000 Follower Prompt Celebration

Hunter X F!Reader

word count: 3.3k

prompt:

“I want to help you… if you’ll let me.”

authors note: thank you for the request! Love this idea. Enjoy and sorry for the wait 🤍

warnings: enemies to lovers, drunk patron who can’t take no for an answer, canon typical violence, angsty, mild injury to reader, reader gets insulted, female reader, hunter is a bit of an arse at first, first kiss which is a little steamy, protective hunter. I

The aftermath of the latest mission left a sour taste lingering in your mouth, the tension between you and Hunter palpable in the crowded bar. Despite the success of the mission, Hunter couldn't resist injecting his bitter critique into the - what should be - celebratory atmosphere.

As the squad was basking in victory, clinking cups and allowing Omega to indulge in a very sugary concoction that almost had her bouncing off the walls, Hunter's biting words tainted the mood.

His critique of your tactics cut deep, branding you as reckless and a threat to safety, all delivered in front of the entire squad.

Flushed with embarrassment and fueled by anger, you hastily abandoned the bar, seeking refuge in another dimly lit establishment down the strip. Unbeknownst to you, the others exchanged scornful glances, Echo remarking, "She gets it from you, you know?" A subtle nod to your adoption of Hunter's techniques, albeit with less finesse.

Swallowing his pride, Hunter trailed after you with a heavy sigh, the weight of his words hanging heavy on his shoulders as he tried to find a way to make it up to you.

Meanwhile in the new bar, a sketchy run down looking thing with flickering strobe lights, you find yourself situated between two patrons in a world of their own.

As you waited for the service droid to serve you, a small shift from you caught the attention of the man on the left. A rugged looking man with a rather stale odor to match.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” His inquiry, laced with unwanted charm, sent a shiver down your spine as you maintained a polite smile, avoiding direct eye contact.

“In this dump? Not quite sure. But, just here for one drink,” you replied, hoping to discourage further conversation.

The man chuckled, a smug grin etching lines on his worn face, followed by a troubling cough that was hacked into a dirty rag that makes you squirm. “That so?” He asks after his coughing fit. “Mind if I get ya one?"

"I'll get it myself. Thanks for the offer," you replied, freezing him in his tracks.

"Heh, you think you're too good for me?" he retorted, his gaze piercing.

Sighing, you turned to face him, attempting to maintain composure amidst his growing aggression. "I didn't say anything like that. I'm here to buy my own drink and leave."

But as his tone escalated and his proximity grew, you reached your breaking point. Despite your attempts to politely decline, he persisted, his invasive advances refusing to relent, leaving you feeling increasingly uncomfortable and trapped.

Until you snapped.

Hunter found himself darting his head into every bar and club, your current whereabouts unknown. Frustration gnawed at him as he went to check your location only to see you had switched it off, thwarting his attempts to track you down.

However, a subtle whiff in the air caught his attention, and his stomach churned. The same sensation he developed whenever the smell hit him. He finds himself gulping a little as he instantly recognised the faint scent of the floral soap that only you used.

It left a lingering trace, teasing him that he was on the right track. A part of him wanted to clear the scent away; he had smelled it so often in the Marauder that it always sent his mind into a spiral of confusion and found it rather distracting.

His thoughts on your scent dissipated as the sound of loud banging reverberated down a stairway to a rundown bar. Hunter froze, his senses sharpening as he listened intently. The familiar sound of your voice had him bolting down the steps, instincts kicking in as he rushed to your aid. Or so he thought he had to.

Upon entering, Hunter's heart quickened its pace as he was greeted with the sight of you, hands raised in a defensive stance, facing off against a man whose laughter echoed brashly in your face. The tension in the air was thick as you snapped, “Keep your dirty, mucus breath away from me!”

The man, undeterred by your sharp words, retorted with a smirk, “That ain’t very ladylike of you, sweet cheeks. Calm down and have a drink with me.”

Your nostrils flared in anger, steam seemingly emanating from you as you glared daggers at him. “I said no,” you snarled, your voice dripping with venom. “And call me ‘sweet cheeks’ one more time, I’ll kick you between the legs so hard it won’t be the cough you’re choking on!”

As the confrontation intensified, Hunter's eyes widened in surprise and concern as he watched from a few feet away, momentarily frozen by the scene unfolding before him.

Then, his protective side kicks in, taking a step forward, the need to intervene pulsing through his veins. He speaks your name which causes you to freeze and glance over your shoulder to meet his penetrating gaze. Great.

Meanwhile, the man, sensing the shift in dynamics, glanced over your shoulder too and directed a question at Hunter. “Oi, bandana, does she belong to you?”

Your eyes flashed with defiance as you interrupted before Hunter could respond, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “I don’t belong to nobody, let’s get that right,” you hissed, your gaze locked in a fierce glare with the patron.

“You best listen to her,” Hunter piped up, stepping in between you and the man with a protective stance. “But,” he continued, turning to look at you, “I think me and you should get going.”

You stared at the clone, a wave of anger and confusion washing over you. What game was he playing? First, he mocked you, and now he was trying to act like Prince Charming? So, you shook your head adamantly. “I’ve still not had my drink.”

“I said I’ll buy you one,” the patron quipped.

“Will you shut up?” Both you and Hunter snapped at the same time, sharing a surprised glance at the oddity of the moment, but quickly brushing it off. You nudged past him and leaned back on the bartop, determined to get the attention of the service droid.

Hunter's sigh was loud as he stood beside you, gesturing for you to follow him, but you persisted with a shake of your head. You came for a drink, and you would leave with one.

Just as you thought things couldn't get any worse, the patron approached you, reaching a hand towards you. But Hunter was already on the case, swatting the man's hand away with a swift motion. “Lay a finger on her and I’ll break all of yours. Leave.”

You stared at the back of Hunter’s head, your eyes wide in surprise at his tone and sudden threat. He was always a commanding presence, but never to this extent. It made you feel a strange mix of emotions, a tingling sensation spreading from your belly to the tips of your fingers.

The man glanced between you and Hunter, his expression a mixture of defiance and resignation, before taking a final swig of his drink. With a nod of his head, he seemed prepared to leave, but not without delivering a parting shot.

“Put her on a leash next time.”

Despite Hunter's heightened senses, he was not quick enough to respond as you pivoted on your heel and unleashed a hefty punch straight to the man’s nose. The force of the blow sent him sprawling to the ground, landing hard on his rear.

The man, stunned and ready to retaliate, found himself abruptly halted by a boot pressed firmly to his chest, courtesy of the tall Clone. With his hands raised in defense, he hesitated.

“Apologise to the lady,” Hunter demanded, his voice firm and unwavering.

“Forget it, Hunter,” you muttered, adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you shook out your hand. “I’m not going to ask someone or force someone to apologise to me.” There was a certain edge in your voice, a subtle reminder of Hunter's own failure to say sorry for his earlier words.

Unfortunately, the disruption had drawn the attention of the service droid (finally), and you and Hunter were promptly forced to leave.

As you were ushered out, you wasted no time in striding ahead, your steps heavy with frustration. The rhythmic tap of your boots echoed against the pavement, a stark contrast to the fading sounds of the bar behind you.

"Hey, wait up!" Hunter's voice called after you, but you were resolute in your determination not to stop. You didn't want him to see your tears, didn't want to show any vulnerability in front of him. Not after everything that had just happened. Not after that painful punch that felt like hitting a brick wall.

Ignoring his calls, you continued forward, your jaw clenched tightly to hold back the emotions threatening to spill over. But your pace was abruptly halted as Hunter caught up to you, using his body as a barrier as he stopped directly in front of you.

"Come on, we need to talk. I need to—Are you crying?" Hunter's voice softened, concern evident in his tone as he noticed the telltale signs of tears glistening in your eyes.

"No!" you snapped back, a reflexive denial, but the tremble in your voice betrayed your true emotions.

Hunter sighed softly, his shoulders slumping slightly as he realised the depth of your distress. "Let’s get back to the ship. We can talk there," he suggested gently, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

A part of you wanted to stay stubborn, to refuse his offer and continue on your own path to perhaps another bar. But the night was growing darker, and the pain in your hand from the earlier punch was becoming increasingly unbearable. With a resigned nod, you reluctantly allowed Hunter to guide you back to the port.

Once inside the ship, the air felt heavier with tension as you stood in the cramped space, watching intently as Hunter meticulously sifted through the clutter of supplies and equipment scattered around. With a focused determination, he located a medkit.

When you insisted that you didn't need him to attend to your injury, considering it wasn't that serious, Hunter's expression hardened, his voice taking on a stern edge. "Yeah? Want to explain why there’s now blood on the ship floor?" The sharpness in his tone made your face flush with embarrassment as you glanced down, noticing the small tear in your skin that had resulted from the brief scuffle.

"Oh," you muttered awkwardly, feeling hot under Hunter's scrutiny.

“Sit here.” Without missing a beat, Hunter gestured for you to sit on a nearby crate, his demeanor firm yet oddly reassuring. As he patted the surface in front of him, you couldn't help but wonder about his motives. Was it your earlier words about his lack of apology that lingered in his mind, prompting this gesture of care? Or was there another reason behind his actions? The uncertainty gnawed at you, but deep down, a part of you couldn't deny the comfort of his presence in that moment.

“I don’t need coddling,” you mumbled half-heartedly, attempting to maintain a facade of independence despite the conflicting emotions swirling within you. Nevertheless, your feet moved almost of their own accord, carrying you towards Hunter as you settled yourself onto the crate in front of him.

"Oh, I know, you handled yourself well," Hunter chuckled softly, his hands moving deftly as he pulled out pads to dab at your skin, preparing to disinfect the area. “I want to help you… if you’ll let me.”

You grumbled in response, your eyes trained on his hands as they worked. "Ha, next joke please."

Hunter raised a brow at you, his expression serious for a moment. "I mean it," he insisted, his tone earnest.

You couldn't help but scoff, the bitterness of his previous criticism still fresh in your mind. "Yet I’m reckless and a danger to others?" you retorted, your voice tinged with sarcasm and frustration.

A heavy sigh escaped Hunter's lips, and he paused in his actions, looking you directly in the eye, though you were doing your hardest not to meet his gaze. "I want to say sorry for what I said. I… I should have said it to you alone. And differently."

You could hear the slight awkwardness in his tone, but it did come across as honest. Yet, you were still annoyed. “Yeah well, you completely embarrassed and upset me.”

He blinked, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as your voice took on a gentle tone tinged with sadness. “I know, and I am sorry. Truly. But, I only said it because…” he trailed off for a moment, his eyes trained on the medkit again, as if searching for the answer within.

“Because?” You prompted him, giving his leg a small nudge with your foot.

“Because I care. I don’t want you taking risks like I do. Like what the others do.” Hunter's admission hung in the air, revealing a layer of concern and perhaps a touch of vulnerability.

There was a gravity to Hunter's words, a weight that seemed to hang in the air, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you. It was as if his sudden sincerity reached out and tugged at the strings of your heart, tempting you to lean into the warmth of his presence. But you resisted, holding back the urge to act on the tumultuous feelings that were suddenly swirling inside you.

“You certainly have an odd way with words in that case,” you found yourself saying, your voice slightly breathless as you struggled to make sense of the complex emotions churning within you. Hunter seemed to notice the subtle change in your demeanor, his senses catching the telltale signs of your heightened heartbeat.

“You’re not wrong,” he admitted quietly, his own voice apologetic. With gentle precision, he applied some bactaspray to your knuckles, his touch light yet reassuring. As he dabbed away the blood, you couldn't help but hiss in pain, the sting overlapping the odd flutter in your heart.

“My apologies,” Hunter murmured, his gaze meeting yours with sincerity.

Despite the slight discomfort, there was a flicker of amusement in your eyes as you watched him meticulously care for your hand. Never had you seen him so gentle and so indulged at the task at hand.

As you watched Hunter, the smirk gradually faded from your lips, replaced by a sense of awe as your eyes traced the finer details of his face. His strong jawline, the depth of his intoxicating eyes, and the tattoo that adorned his skin, its colors slightly faded but still complimenting his rugged appearance perfectly. His long locks, usually tucked back by his bandana, had fallen forward, framing his face in a way that emphasised his rugged charm.

You came to a sudden realisation of just how handsome he was. Of course, you had always known it on some level, but now it struck you with a new intensity that made your heart quicken and your cheeks flush with a sudden shyness.

“So, do you forgive me?” Hunter's voice broke through your reverie, pulling you back to reality and you found yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his gaze.

“Sorry, what?” you blinked, feeling a flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks as you snapped out of your reverie, realizing you had been lost in awe-struck admiration of Hunter.

He chuckled softly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he raised a brow at your dazed stare. “No, it’s me who is the one saying ‘sorry’ this time.” With a gentle touch, he guided your attention back to your injured hand, his movements careful and deliberate as he applied a dressing before neatly packing the medkit away. “But I’ll ask again, do you forgive me?”

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling a mixture of confusion, shyness, and bashfulness under his attentive gaze. “I suppose… just please don’t do it again.”

“You have my word,” he nodded, his smile warm and reassuring. When his gaze met yours, the swirling storm of your emotions came back, and your heart raced even faster than before when he extended his hand towards you.

You tried to play it off as a simple gesture to help you off the crate, but as you placed your good hand into his, there was a gentle squeeze in his touch before he effortlessly pulled you forward, almost causing you to stumble into his chest.

“Oh!- oh,” you stammered, quickly steadying yourself but growing increasingly aware of the proximity between you and the Sergeant.

His eyes remained locked on yours, his head tilting slightly to the side as he studied your reaction. “Everything alright?” he asked, his voice soft, the warmth of his hand still lingering on yours.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you nodded firmly, though the erratic thumping of your heart betrayed your composure, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Hunter could sense it, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Tell me,” his voice was hushed, his warm breath brushing against your features as he leaned in closer, “why is your heart beating so fast?”

You gulped, feeling his proximity overwhelming your senses as you searched his eyes for an answer, but all you found was a reflection of your own turmoil. The truth was written in the depths of your gaze, but your words failed you, and you found yourself stuttering over your thoughts, unable to form a coherent sentence. It was as if the weight of your unspoken feelings hung heavy in the air between you.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Hunter spoke aloud, his other hand moving to gently push a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “I can’t help but wonder if you…” He trailed off, uncertainty lacing his words, but he couldn't ignore the palpable tension that crackled between you any longer, “if you have feelings for me.”

“Do you truly care about me?” you asked, your voice a delicate whisper tinged with a shyness as you found yourself yearning to inch just a tad closer to Hunter's body. Every nerve in your body seemed to hum with anticipation, the air thick with unspoken desires.

Sensing your feelings, Hunter gently pushed you back with his body, his touch sending a shiver down your spine as your legs hit the crate behind you. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You don’t understand how much I care,” his voice rumbled low, the depth of his emotions evident in his tone. “I’ve never cared about anyone so much in my life.”

With just the two of you here, the atmosphere crackled with an electrifying tension, each heartbeat echoing in the silence as you teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniable.

“Well,” you whispered, your injured hand reaching out to touch his chest, your fingers tracing the contours of his shirt as if seeking reassurance, “maybe I do too. Maybe I do have feelings for you.”

A sigh, almost a mix of a moan and relief, escaped Hunter's lips at your words. “Come here to me,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

Without hesitation, you closed the distance between the pair of you, your lips meeting his in a somewhat long-awaited embrace. Hunter's arms enveloped you, one hand cradling your body with a firm yet gentle touch, while the other slid to the back of your head, holding you close with a tenderness that made your heart flutter as his fingers tangled in your hair.

Lifting you, you're placed on top of the crate once again, Hunter sandwiched between your legs as you both savor the quiet and serene moment. Your bitterness had vanished, replaced with the soft taste of his tongue dancing with yours. An alcoholic tang.

For a moment, all the tension, all the longing and arguing melted away as you molded into each other, lost in the sweetness of the kiss and the warmth of each other's embrace. “Hunter,” you whimper breathlessly.

You hoped the others wouldn’t come back for a while.

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[vinelark]

Do you have any more outtakes you'd be willing to share? I love seeing what did and didn't make the cut on fics

i do!! i remember doing a little roundup of some outtakes for chapters 1 - 3 (found it! here) and i have some similar snippets from chapters 4 & 5 ☺️

chapter 4

a bit of cut dialogue from the zoo rescue:

“Oh, I’m aware,” Nightwing says. “Atlanta, remember?”

“What happened in Atlanta?” Tim demands, ducking away from another bird.

Nightwing waves a hand. “Classified superhero business.”

“Superboy, what happened in Atlanta?”

In Atlanta, Kon yelled at Superman about Tim’s misinterpreted fear toxin hallucinations right in front of Batman and Nightwing, which still makes Kon cringe a bit to think about. “Uhh,” Kon says. “Yeah, classified.”

two cut texting exchanges after the date:

Text message: Clark & Kon

[Saturday, 10:21pm ET]

Clark

Hey Kon—is everything all right?

I can have someone cover the rest of my watch if need be.

Kon

no, all good

apparently mr. wayne’s lawyers are On It

whatever that means in rich people speak

sorry if you like. get asked about this by the press lol

like we weren’t trying for a photo op but i should’ve heard the drone earlier

Clark

This isn’t your fault.

And I’m sure Bruce’s lawyers will have it sorted out by morning

Kon

yeah that’s basically what tim said

Text message: Jon & Conner

[Saturday, 10:23pm ET]

Jon

Ok the live is gone now

Also pa’s asking where u are what do i tell him

I think i have to tell him the truth he sounds worried because earlier i said u went to rescue someone n you haven’t come back

I can’t lie about this i feel bad :(

oh i just heard your window open nvm !!

Conner

all good kiddo, thanks for looking out

in tim & bruce’s conversation, there was a longer section about tim leaning into the “socialite” civilian role, which included the following exchange:

“Like…Paris Fashion Week?” Tim says. That’s always a big one for Bruce Wayne to be caught ducking into dressing rooms with various models.

Bruce gives him a flat look. “You are welcome to attend Paris Fashion Week. Chaperoned.”

tim’s instagram post originally had comments:

briancollinsss i KNEW i saw superboy at car’s party!!!

jerseygirlsteph 👅👅👅

itsanickname_grayson Hope you stayed safe up there!

chapter 5

this exchange in the flashback at the top of chapter 5 was cut/altered for flow, but i still like it:

“Okay,” Tim had said. “And, um, if you can’t come get me, is there a plan B?”

“I will come for you,” Bruce repeated, at the same time Dick called: “Superman.”

extra banter (co-brainstormed by @tigerjpg) that got cut because it didn’t quite keep with the tone, but i still adore it:

“I’m not perfect, anyway,” Kon says. “I snore. Maybe next time make a specimen who doesn’t snore.”

“Sometimes his sneezes register on the Richter Scale,” Tim says.

“And I have a crooked tooth, though honestly that might be from the time I slammed face-first into a volcano.”

“He also thinks wearing sunglasses at night is cool.”

and a bit later, also cut for tone/flow:

“[…] Hey, how unhinged about eugenics do you have to be for Cadmus to send you packing as an intern?”

Cadmus. Did Kon—did he tell Tim the name Cadmus, earlier? He can’t remember—he doesn’t think he did—but it doesn’t matter, because his thoughts scatter as the guy whirls on Tim. The rod comes up, jams under Tim’s jaw, pressing into the side of his neck. Not on yet, but it could be. Kon freezes; Tim doesn’t react except to go rigid, still tracking the guy with his eyes.

“Tell me honestly,” Cadmus guy says, lip curling as he looks sideways to address Kon. “Do you even like this one, or was kissing him the only way you could get him to shut up?”

Kon’s heart pounds in his throat. “You’re so…obsessed with my dating life, dude,” he says. Every moment the guy is looking at him feels like one less moment the rod might switch on. “Sorry, but you’re a bit old for me.”

and i have some extra core four shenanigans that probably won’t fit into chapter 6 at this point, but i’ll wait til i’m done to share that 💪

[tlouadditc]

Hiii, first of all I love all your content. Could you pls make a one shot or a story about y/n as a cheerleader or something else and ellie as a football player in college? <3

touchdown.

college football!ellie x cheerleader!reader.

a/n: tysm for this req!! i had fun writing this even though i have no idea what goes on in sports (oops). keep that in mind so if i got something wrong, forgive me!! also ellie has the farm!ellie haircut because thats my fav ellie. anyway, enjoy <33

warnings: smut with plot, 18+ (MDNI), lowercase intended, a lil bit of fluff at the beginning [if u squint!], dirty talk (a lot of it.), daddy kink [oops!!], mean ellie, teasing, short nipple play [literally one line], ruined orgasm, no aftercare [eek.] NOT PROOFREAD LOL.

it's late august, the mild heat hitting your back as you walk to your dorms. the season officially starts in a couple of days- meaning the first football game is also gonna happen in a couple days- and you're the most worked up you've ever been. the break was nice; being able to see your family consistently for a couple months was much needed. but as you opened the door to your dorm, you realized you can't reminisce about the break. get ready for the next week.

as you begin to unpack your bags, you hear the door slightly open behind you. you smile, knowing who's there already. a familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling your hips back slightly. "she's baaaaack," ellie says quietly, kissing your neck gently as she rocks your hips side to side. you chuckle slightly, turning to look at your girlfriend. "missed you, babe," you say, fully embracing her in your arms. you feel her smile into your neck. pulling back, you give her a small peck on the cheek and admire her.

"new hair?" you question, noticing a small change; the length. she steps back, nodding. "you like it?" she says, still smiling. her auburn hair was cut right to her chin with a side part plastered into it. "i love it, actually," you declare, tucking some stray hairs back behind her pierced ears. "suits you."

she grins before sitting on your bed. "enough about my changes," she begins, "how was your break? you ready for another season of being my personal cheerleader?" you laugh, "babe, i have to cheer for everyone. but my break was good, i guess. was thinking of you the entire time."

"whaaaatever," she teases, rolling her eyes playfully. "i missed you more. almost went crazy without you." ellie was always super dramatic when it came to you; the entire break, she complained about how she was gonna die if she didn't see you in the next couple of hours. it's something you loved about her.

"oh, that reminds me," you suddenly utter, rushing to your closet to grab something. "we got new outfits!"

"oh, yeah?" ellie sat up on your bed, fully attentive to the outfit in question. "let me see it." you excitedly hold it up; a black mini pleated skirt with red glittery trim on the bottom. a matching cropped tank top came with it. it had your college's mascot plastered on the front with your last name on the back.

"wow," she clears her throat, eyes blown wide while eyeing it up and down. "i think you should t-try it on." you giggle and turn to go change.

after a couple minutes, you get it on. before you leave, you assess how it fits on you; your boobs are perfectly sitting inside the tank top, making your figure look sleek and classy. the skirt, however.. bend over and your ass is completely out. you stare at yourself, taking in everything. you snap out of your daze when you hear ellie knock on the door. "babe? you good in there?" she asks, a slight tone of concern being heard. without answering, you open the door to reveal yourself.

for a few seconds, she stands there, mouth open. no words. just admiring every part of you. she moves her hands to your sides, mouthing wow as her eyes travel up and down your body. "you like?" you ask, slightly smirking as you look into her eyes.

"god, i love it," she breathes, her eyes moving from your body up to your eyes. a hand goes to your skirt, lifting it up. "but this lil' skirt's gonna distract everyone, y'know that?"

before you can respond, someone bangs at the front door, causing you both to jump. "y/n!" they yelled, "practice is starting! hurry up!"

goddamnit, you think. you look at ellie with apologetic eyes, grabbing your stuff. almost as if she can read your mind, she goes to the door and yells, "i'll see you down there, babe. tell em' i'll be late!"

practice was boring. a lot of forced small-talk with your teammates about their break, the drills were actually ass, it was a bad start to the season. ellie, who was on the other side of the field you were practicing on, was eyeing you the entire time. the way your skirt went up and revealed your ass took away every ounce of attention that was meant for her sport.

you knew what you were doing. you felt her eyes on you the entire time. anytime you had a chance to tease her when nobody was looking, you'd flip your skirt up and play it off as you fixing your outfit.

after practice, you go back to your dorm and take a quick shower. as soon as you grab your towel, your phone vibrates.

ellie: open the door

you look at the text, confused. nonetheless, you walk to the door in your towel and look through the peephole. ellie's there, waiting impatiently. you unlock the door and twist the knob to open it.

as soon as you open it, ellie forces her way in. she pushes you onto your bed, turning back to close and lock the door. when she turns back to you, you see her dark expression. she's definitely frustrated, pissed even. before you can ask any questions, she simply states:

"you think you can tease me all day and get away with it?"

you're still confused, forgetting completely about practice. when it hits you, she has a slight smirk on her face. "yeah, you remember."

she gets on top of you, planting small, but passionate kisses from your cheeks down to your collarbone. "flipping up that small fucking skirt, thinking i wouldn't do anything to you," she mumbles, pulling down the top of your towel, exposing your breasts. she cups one in each hand, running her thumb over your nipple. "these pretty fuckin' tits," she continues, "bouncing every time you jump.. fuckin' driving me crazy, y'know?"

you whimper, getting wetter by the second. "oh, you want me to fuck you, huh?" she coos, moving down to your ear. "want me to fuck you dumb? make you cum all night?" all you can do is mumble small yes's, feeding into your submission. "oh, i know, baby."

she pulls the towel off of you, fully exposing your damp body. her hands roam from your sides down to your sopping wet cunt, earning a small gasp from you. "what? you want me to touch you here, doll?" she asks, slightly in a mocking tone. you nod feverishly, opening your legs a bit. the wetness coats your inner thighs, glistening in the light above you two.

"god, so wet just for me?" she asks, looking you in the eyes. her middle finger traces along your slit, collecting your slick on her finger. you whine, opening your legs wider so she can slip a finger in you.

"what do you want? hm?" she moves right in front of your face, keeping her middle finger at your entrance. "use your words, baby."

"p-please fuck me, ellie."

"that's not the name you use. you know that."

"fuck- please, i n-need it."

"what's my name?"

you hesitate before answering quietly, "daddy."

"that's right. good girl."

she slips her middle finger into you, earning a gasp from you as you clench around her finger. she moves it in and out as you try to gain any friction from her palm. you look so needly, so helpless in this state; it turns ellie on so much. she's just looking down at you, watching you get off like a fucking dog.

"fuck, you look so good like this baby," she whispers, teasing another finger at your entrance. you pathetically whimper and hold her arm with both hands. "you want another?"

the way she asks you is in a mocking way, making you feel dumb under her touch. but it feels to good to stop now. you nod, almost crying, chasing your orgasm.

"do you deserve it, baby?" she speaks, looking you directly in your eyes. "do you really? answer me."

she's slowing down. you beg and plead for her to keep going; all you can hear are your babbles, "pleasepleaseplease daddy, i need it, i'll be good i promise, im sorry"

"you should've thought about that before you teased me, slut."

she completely removes her fingers, making you whine in frustration. you're mad, but to be fair.. you brought it on yourself.

a/n: this took so long omg writers block is an ass. anyway. might make another part, i just need more ideas if i make another.

[daytaker]

Hey man, congrats on 250 followers. Can you do the "sleep cute" prompt with Solomon? Love your work, keep it up. It's really your choice but could it be platonic if you do it?

Thank you so much, Anon! I was about three quarters done with this when it occurred to me that it didn't quite fit the "sleep cute" trope, but they sleep, and it's quite cute, so hopefully you don't mind.

The Best Apprentice

Solomon x Reader Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1206 CW: minor injuries; a whiff of the suggestive, but barely

[Part of my 250 Followers Mini Event!]

It’s almost three o’clock in the morning when the sound of a small explosion coming from Solomon’s room sends you jumping out of bed and skidding down the hallway between his room and yours. Not bothering to knock, you throw the door open, only to find the sorcerer standing up beside his desk, blinking rapidly and looking almost as confused as you do.

“Oh! Ahaha… I’m sorry, did that wake you up?” He smiles apologetically, running a hand through his messy hair. He yawns, and you peer past him to see just what the hell could have made that sound.

On the table, you see what you once would have assumed was a chemistry set of some sort. Now, of course, you recognize that Solomon’s been brewing some potion or other. Or, he had been. One of the vials of liquid seems to have exploded. Tiny shards of glass cover the desk, and, you’re alarmed to realize, your mentor’s right hand.

“What happened?” You sound more annoyed than you intended as you step gingerly across the room. You have on socks, but that doesn’t make you feel much better knowing shards of glass are probably lying on the floor too.

“I…” He yawns again and chuckles sheepishly. “I fell asleep with one of my reagents stirring. It’s a good thing too, because if I’d been sitting up, I’d have gotten glass in my face.”

“If you had been sitting up,” you counter, “it wouldn’t have exploded.”

“Ahaha… Touché,” Solomon admits, then he holds his arm out, preventing you from stepping any closer. “Now, careful, or you’ll get cut.”

He utters a quick incantation, and the shattered glass dissolves from the desk. With that out of the way, Solomon looks grimly at the beakers that still sit intact on his desk. “I need more devilfish oil and sassafras.” He sighs. “I’m low on a few bonding agents too, so I guess it’s time I went shopping.”

“The only place it’s time for you to go is bed,” you say in a no-nonsense tone. This seems to only amuse Solomon, much to your annoyance. “I’m not joking. If you fell asleep at your desk, you clearly need the rest.”

He steps closer to you and cups your cheeks in his hands, smiling at you with an expression somewhere between ‘impish’ and ‘adoring’.

“Now, now,” he says lightly, pressing his forehead to yours. You deadpan as he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs. “That’s hardly something for an apprentice to be telling their master, isn’t it?”

“First of all, you’re my mentor, not my master.” You give a small scowl at this overstep of his and gently remove his hands from your cheeks, taking a small step back. “And second, I’m not telling you as your apprentice. I’m telling you as your friend.”

He cants his head to the side, his smile growing just a fraction of an inch. “Just as my friend?”

“Don’t push your luck, Solomon.”

“Well, pardon me. With the way you’re still holding onto my hands, you’re sending me mixed messages.”

“You’re impossible.” You drop his left hand but hold his right one up and look it over. It seems the glass that had struck him was magicked away by the same spell that took care of the rest of it, but there are still little cuts on the back of it. He could have taken care of this in an instant, you know, but he didn’t. Probably because he wants you to do it.  Muttering an incantation, you heal the cuts on his hand and let it go.

As you predicted, Solomon appears supremely pleased as he looks his hand over. “Well, look at that. All better!” He looks up at you again with smiling eyes. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.”

“Hmm…” Solomon turns around and walks back over to the desk, tapping it with his forefinger. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Excuse me?” You fold your arms and glare at him, but he’s no longer looking at you. He’s looking over the beakers on his desk again. Or pretending to, at least. You don’t trust this little stunt of his for a second.

“I’m so busy with my research,” he explains. You don’t need to see his face to know there’s a shiteating grin on it. “I’m just not feeling very motivated to go to sleep right now.”

“You realize you’re behaving like a child, right?”

Solomon peers over his shoulder at you and shrugs, his smile never wavering, before returning his attention to his lab setup, carefully capping some vials while preparing to mix some others together. He’s such a pain in the ass sometimes.

So you approach him and hug him from behind. “Please?” Two can play the childish card. You aren’t so easy to outdo.

For just a fraction of a second, you feel Solomon tense. Then he laughs.

“How badly do you want me to sleep, exactly?”

“Soooo badly.”

He swivels around and you’re hit with something like déjà vû. He cups your cheeks with his hands and presses his forehead to yours again. Only this time, your arms are still around him. And his smile is just so… Solomon.

“Alright. If you insist. But you’re going to join me.”

You sigh. And Solomon, interpreting that as a response, drops your cheeks and takes a step back, looking a little put out, but more embarrassed. It’s surprising to actually see him like that.

“Sorry.” He’s smiling again already. “That was a little out of line, wasn’t it.” Pink still dusts his cheeks as he looks intently down at the desk, as if he’s searching for something. “But alright, you win. I’ll go to bed. Sorry again about waking you.”

“Solomon,” you reply, crossing your arms. You’re almost sighing again. Almost. “I didn’t say no.”

He perks up almost instantly.

“But don’t get any weird ideas! You said you wanted me to join you! Nobody said anything about anything else, understand?”

“Of course,” he replies with a beam. “Surely you didn’t think I had any impure intentions? Or did you maybe hope that I did…?”

You turn around to walk out of the room.

“Alright, sorry, understood! Ahaha… You’re so tricky to please sometimes!”

Solomon flops down on his bed and scoots to the far end of it, patting the spot beside him. You’re a little bit more embarrassed than you’d anticipated as he watches you climb on up after him and get under the covers. You stare at the ceiling, uncomfortable and a bit on edge, when you feel Solomon roll onto his side to face you.

“Hey.”

You turn your head to look at him. He’s awfully close, unsurprisingly. You can’t stop a nervous giggle from spilling out. He smiles softly at this and touches your cheek. “You really are the best apprentice I ever could have hoped for. Thanks for everything.”

The tension inside you seems to melt away like snow as you roll onto your side and snuggle up to the sorcerer. “You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.”

“So bossy,” he chuckles under his breath.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Goodnight, Solomon.”

“Goodnight, my adorable apprentice.”

[nayziiz]

Stay | LN4

Summary: A new romantic prospect puts things into perspective in the best and worst ways possible.

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Cara)

Warnings: Angst

Masterlist

CHAPTER 6

The music was louder than Cara expected when they entered the club. Maya immediately dragged Lando over to the bar to get drinks, and Max and Pietra went on a mission to find the private booth Maya had apparently arranged. Cara hung back for a minute and surveyed the scene. It wasn't her go-to place regardless of the country she found herself in. She sighed, defeated, knowing she would be spending most of her night being miserable.

Trying to make the best of it, Cara wandered over to the bar, deciding to get herself a drink. She squeezed through the crowd and managed to catch the bartender's attention, ordering a simple gin and tonic. As she waited for her drink, she couldn't help but notice Lando and Maya at the other end of the bar, Maya clinging onto Lando's arm as they laughed together.

Cara felt a pang of something she couldn't quite place—jealousy, maybe? She quickly dismissed the thought, reminding herself that she and Lando were just friends. Still, it was hard to ignore the growing discomfort she felt every time she saw them together.

“Here's your drink,” the bartender said, breaking her train of thought. She thanked him and took a sip, letting the cool liquid calm her nerves. She turned away from the bar and tried to spot Max and Pietra, hoping to find some solace in their company.

After a few minutes of searching, she finally saw Max waving her over from a corner booth. She weaved through the throng of people, grateful to finally sit down and escape the chaos for a bit. When she reached the booth, Pietra scooted over to make room for her.

“Never really been your scene, huh?” Max observed, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Not at all. But hey, at least I've got you guys to keep me company,” Cara shook her head, managing a small smile.

“Don't worry, we'll make sure you have a good time,” Pietra assured her with a pat on the shoulder.

“See, she looks so out of place,” Maya whined when she looked back at Cara. Lando followed her eyes and found Cara slowly moving towards Max and Pietra.

“Cut her some slack, she's trying,” Lando countered, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“Why do you defend her so much?” Maya asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

“Because she's one of my best friends, Maya.” Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words.

“It just feels like she's always around, and I don't get why you prioritise her so much.” Maya pouted, clearly unsatisfied with his answer. Lando took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“Cara is important to me, just like Max, just like Pietra. We've been through a lot together. It's not about prioritising; it's about recognizing the people who genuinely care about you. You should give her a chance, get to know her better.” Lando continued. Maya rolled her eyes as she shifted closer to Lando, linking her arm through his.

“Baby, she's not like us, she doesn't fit in,”  Maya retorted, her tone dismissive.

“Like us? What does that even mean?” Lando asked, baffled by Maya's comment. “Alright, if you want to see me defensive, keep saying stuff like that.”

“Calm down, Lan. I'm just sharing my opinion,” Maya shrugged, trying to downplay the situation.

“No, you're being mean towards her, and that's not cool, Maya. She's only been nice to you,” Lando continued, his voice firm.

“Whatever, Lan. I just think you should focus more on us.” Maya rolled her eyes at him once more. Lando shook his head, feeling a growing frustration.

“It's not a competition, Maya. If you can't accept my friends, then this won't work.” Lando informed her. Maya stared at him, a mixture of anger and hurt in her eyes. “Give her a chance. You might actually like her if you got to know her.”

Maya didn't respond, instead turning her attention back to the bar. Lando sighed, knowing that this was far from over, but determined to stand by his friend.

Cara spotted Lando and Maya in an intense conversation from their reserved booth where she sat with Pietra and Max, who were also chatting away. She nudged Pietra, drawing her attention to the scene unfolding at the bar. Pietra turned to look at what Cara was indicating.

"Trouble in paradise?" Pietra asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Who knows?" Cara sighed again, feeling a pang of discomfort at the sight.

Max, picking up on the shift in conversation, turned his attention to the bar as well. "Looks like things are getting heated over there."

Cara nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "Yeah, it does."

Pietra leaned in closer to Cara. "You okay?"

Cara forced a small smile. "Yeah, just...it's been a weird night."

Max gave her a sympathetic look. "Weird how?"

Cara hesitated, glancing at Lando and Maya again. "Just...Maya's been making things a bit uncomfortable. I feel like I'm in the way."

Pietra put a reassuring hand on Cara's arm. "You know you're not in the way, right? You're part of this group, and we all want you here."

Throughout the night as the drinks flowed, Cara loosened up and even ended up on the dancefloor. She danced with some girls for a while, and then the men started approaching her. Lando ground his teeth, his jaw locked, as he watched her dance against a new man every few minutes, a goofy smile plastered on her face as she did so.

He could feel the frustration bubbling inside him, his protective instincts flaring up with each passing moment. He knew Cara was just trying to have a good time and shake off the evening's earlier discomfort, but it didn't stop the surge of jealousy and concern he felt seeing her surrounded by strangers.

Maya noticed Lando's attention was securely on Cara and nothing else the second she went on the dancefloor, so in a huff, she left the club without saying goodbye to Lando. She felt a sting of betrayal and disappointment as she pushed through the throng of people, heading for the exit. Her dramatic departure went unnoticed by Lando, who was too engrossed in his moment with Cara to see anything else.

Lando was able to contain himself until he saw another new man approach Cara. The man slid in behind her, grabbing her hips as they swayed, and pressed himself right against her. She didn't move away from him, not even when his hands travelled around to her waist and later to her butt and thighs. Lando's blood was boiling as he stood and watched.

Max, noticing Lando's agitation, nudged him. "You okay, mate?"

Lando forced a tight smile. "Yeah, just... keeping an eye on things."

Max followed his gaze to where Cara was dancing, understanding dawning on his face. "She's just having fun, man. Let her enjoy herself."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, I know. It's just hard to watch."

Pietra, joining the conversation, leaned in. "Maybe you should go dance with her?"

Lando hesitated. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

Pietra gave him an encouraging smile. "It might be exactly what she needs. Besides, it's clear you're not happy just standing here."

He walked through the crowd to where she was. The man dancing with her had disappeared, and Lando took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist from behind to see what her reaction would be. Instead of pushing his hands away, she rested her hands on his and intertwined her fingers with his. She pressed her body against his and swayed to the beat of the music. She rested the back of her head against his chest and turned her head slightly so she could just, ever so slightly, brush the tip of her icy nose against the skin of his neck.

“You know it's me, right?” Lando asked, his voice soft yet tinged with a hint of amusement.

“Uh-huh,” she hummed, warm from both the alcohol and by Lando’s sudden presence behind her.

“I thought I'd join you,” he replied, trying to keep his tone light. “Looks like you're having fun.”

"I am. But I wouldn't mind a familiar face to dance with,” she admitted, a slight flush to her cheeks. 

“Well, here I am.” He grinned, relieved.

Lando and Cara continued to dance, their laughter and movements synchronised. The energy between them was palpable, drawing a few curious glances from onlookers but mostly just blending into the vibrant, carefree atmosphere of the dancefloor. Max and Pietra, seated in the booth, observed the scene with satisfaction.

“Looks like they’re finally letting their feelings take control,” Max commented, leaning back with a contented smile. Pietra nodded.

“It's about time. They both needed this.” Pietra agreed, hinting at all of the months and trips they spent watching Lando and Cara dance around each other and their feelings.

After their night at the club, the unexpected intimacy they shared on the dance floor lingering in their minds, Cara and Lando found themselves back at the apartment. The atmosphere was filled with a mixture of awkwardness and anticipation, as both of them tried to process the shift in their relationship. They had reversed roles for the evening: Lando took the couch, and Cara took his bed.

Cara lay in Lando's bed, surrounded by the scent of him that clung to the sheets and pillows. She turned over and buried her face into his pillow, breathing in deeply. His scent was comforting, but without him being close, it felt suffocating and incomplete. The bed felt enormous and empty without his presence. It was cold. Too cold. She pulled the blankets tighter around herself, trying to find some semblance of warmth, but it was no use. The events of the night replayed in her mind, especially the moment on the dance floor when she had felt so safe and connected in his arms.

In the living room, Lando tossed and turned on the couch. The cushions felt foreign and uncomfortable, a far cry from the familiarity of his bed. The eerie loneliness of the room gnawed at him, amplified by the silence of the early morning hours. He stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts consumed by the feel of touch and the way she had fit so perfectly in his arms. He couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that filled the room without her presence nearby.

Both of them were restless, struggling to find comfort in their new sleeping arrangements. The distance between them felt greater than the physical space that separated the couch from the bedroom. They were both acutely aware of each other's absence, and it weighed heavily on their hearts.

His bedroom door creaked open, and Cara stood leaning against the doorframe, watching Lando toss from one side of the couch to the other. The sight of him struggling to find comfort tugged at her heart. She could see the unease etched on his face, and it mirrored her own feelings of restlessness.

“Not comfortable?” she whispered as she approached him, halting his movements.

“Something like that,” he admitted, sitting back with a sigh. He looked despondent, the weight of the night’s events clearly still on his mind. Cara took a seat beside him, their shoulders brushing. “Why are you still up?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” she confessed, pulling her sweatshirt’s sleeves over her hands. The fabric provided a small comfort against the cold, but it did nothing to quell the chill she felt inside.

Lando sat there, his heart pounding against his ribcage like a caged bird desperate for freedom. His mind raced, a flurry of doubts and uncertainties clouding his judgement. Was this the right moment? Would she think he was being too forward? A myriad of questions bombarded his thoughts, threatening to drown out the faint whisper of courage that urged him forward.

Yet, amidst the chaos of his mind, there was a flicker of something different—an ember of spontaneity and daring that dared to defy his apprehensions. It was that tiny spark that propelled him forward, urging him to take a leap of faith into the unknown. For a brief moment, he hesitated, his lips parting as if to speak, only to falter at the brink of uncertainty.

But then, with a surge of determination, he silenced his doubts and let his words spill forth into the space between them.

"Fancy a cuddle?" he suggested, the words hanging in the air like a delicate promise waiting to be fulfilled.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still, the world holding its breath as they stood on the precipice of possibility. Would she laugh it off, dismissing his offer with a gentle smile? Or would she embrace the spontaneity of the moment, taking his hand and diving headfirst into the unknown?

As the blush bloomed across her cheeks, Lando felt a surge of anticipation mingled with a hint of vulnerability. He watched her, his heart pounding in his chest, wondering what her response would be. For a moment, she seemed to retreat within herself, her gaze flickering away from his as if grappling with an inner turmoil.

Then, just as he began to fear that his suggestion had been too bold, she surprised him. With a deep breath, she rose from her seat, her hand extended towards him in a silent invitation. It was a gesture filled with a quiet determination, a silent affirmation of trust and curiosity.

Lando felt a rush of relief flood through him as he accepted her hand, letting her lead him back to his room. The air between them crackled with anticipation, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging heavy in the space around them.

Once inside, he closed the door behind them, the sound echoing softly in the silence. He watched as she made herself comfortable under the covers, her movements graceful yet tinged with a hint of uncertainty. It was a simple act, yet it spoke volumes—a silent agreement to embrace the intimacy of the moment, to explore the connection that pulsed between them.

As Lando slipped out of his shirt, the fabric falling away to reveal the contours of his frame, it felt like shedding a layer of inhibition, a symbolic gesture of vulnerability and intimacy. It was a routine he had grown accustomed to, a small act of comfort and familiarity in the quiet moments before sleep claimed him.

With a silent grace, he joined her beneath the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning them in a world of their own making. And as he settled beside her, he felt a sense of rightness wash over him—a feeling of belonging that transcended words or explanations.

She welcomed him into her embrace with a natural ease, her body fitting against his like two pieces of a puzzle finally finding their perfect match. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breath against his neck, a soothing rhythm that lulled him into a state of contentment.

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close, relishing the sensation of her skin against his own. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes—an unspoken promise of protection and comfort, a silent declaration of love and devotion.

With her hand resting on her exposed stomach, he felt a surge of tenderness well up within him.

“Tell me something nobody else knows about you,” Lando quipped in an attempt to distract himself from the feeling of her body against his.

“I am absolutely terrible at skiing,” she whispered with a small chuckle.

“Is that why you didn’t come to Finland with us?” he realised.

“Partly, yeah,” she chuckled. “I did have to work, too.”

“I can teach you, you know, how to ski,” he offered.

“You’d be teaching a wall how to walk, not going to happen,” she countered.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m a great teacher. Just look at how great you are now at karting,” Lando teased with a knowingly smile.

“Alright, fair enough,” she conceded, chuckling slightly at his cockiness.

The excitement of their banter dissipated into the tranquil embrace of the night as she nestled her head into the curve of his neck once more. Her breath, warm yet tinged with a hint of chill, ghosted across his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

Lando's fingers traced gentle patterns over her arm, the warmth of her touch a soothing balm against the tumultuous currents of his thoughts. He tried to coax himself into a state of sleep, to let the gentle rhythm of their breaths lull him into oblivion. But amidst the quiet darkness, the desire that simmered beneath the surface refused to be ignored.

With each passing moment, the urge to lean in and capture her lips in a tender kiss grew stronger, a silent plea that echoed in the depths of his soul. He turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting hers in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window.

Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, a wordless conversation that spoke volumes of unspoken desires and hidden truths. In that fleeting moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of them suspended in the timeless embrace of the night.

“I really want to kiss you,” he confessed, his voice so soft it was barely a whisper.

“Okay,” she mimicked his tone and volume, her breath warm against his skin.

With a tender reverence, Lando cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across her skin. He leaned in, closing the small distance between them, and gently pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was soft and delicate, a gentle caress that spoke of all the unspoken words and feelings they had shared.

For the first time in a very long time, Lando felt butterflies fluttering in his stomach—the good kind that signalled something special, something real. It wasn’t a hungry or desperate kiss, but one filled with sweetness and tenderness, a reflection of how he felt about her.

When he finally pulled away, he watched her eyes remain closed, her face serene as she absorbed every moment of the lingering sensation. A smile curved her lips, and in that moment, Lando knew that this simple kiss had sealed something profound between them.

They spent the rest of the night wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy, gazing at each other with a mixture of wonder and contentment. The world outside their little bubble seemed to fade away, leaving only the soft glow of the moonlight and the quiet whispers of their shared breaths.

With tender curiosity, they traced invisible shapes into each other’s skin, their fingertips leaving trails of warmth and affection. Each touch was a silent declaration, a wordless conversation that spoke of their growing closeness and the trust they had built.

Her fingers played gently with his hair, twirling soft strands between her fingertips, while he marvelled at the delicate way she moved. In return, his hand found its way to her hair, smoothing it back from her face with a tenderness that made her heart flutter.

As the night wore on, their words grew softer, their touches slower, each moment drawing them deeper into the embrace of sleep. The rhythm of their breaths synchronised, creating a soothing lullaby that carried them towards slumber.

Finally, with their bodies entwined and hearts beating in unison, they drifted off to sleep, each wrapped in the comfort of the other’s presence. And as they slipped into dreams, the night held them close, a silent witness to the beginning of something beautiful and enduring.

[dayasusays]

“companion”

jason todd x fem!reader

part 1 / 2

words : 1357

tw / cw : fem!reader, domestic abuse and struggling reader, flashbacks of childhood and adolescence, unrequited love, hurt/comfort, angst

for better experience :

jason's eyes watch you as you run around your room looking for jewelry; he sits there on your bed, as if he's not interested in helping you choose, but he doesn't take his eyes off you.

“you're leaving in ten minutes.” “you're not making this any better!” you shout from the bathroom as you try to put on your earrings; todd appears behind you and takes the jewelry from you, putting it on you. he looks in the mirror — at you, of course, not at himself — and once again the thought of how beautiful you are flashes through his mind, “do i have time to change my dress?” “it looks good,” he buttoned the lock on your dress as you sighed, “it looks wonderful, it fits you well, it shows off your strengths and hides your flaws. are you satisfied?” jason sees you shining, and that's enough for him.

“who's this guy?” he sits back down on your bed and picks up the book, but doesn't even read it, still staring at you. “should i go with you? he could be some maniac or weirdo.” “i'll be fine,” your smile calms him down a bit, but something inside him shrinks at the thought that something could happen to you.

todd remembers your whole story, and it hurts him even more. he's always protective, protective all the time, like an older brother, and he's always assumed that you only view him that way. and that's what hurt the most. he's always seen you as a woman, seems to have had a crush on you since you were nine, when you were friends in high school; now you're both in college and he's watching you go out with some guy, realizing that he's been in love with you for over eleven years. jason always thought it was just silly teenage love and nothing more, but his feelings damn sure haven't faded once in all those years.

so when he walks you out, reminding you that you can always call him and he'll punch that guy in the face, he realizes how much it hurts to just be there for eleven years and watch you go through all those thorns just to find peace.

todd still remembers every moment of your childhood, when you came running to him after a fight with your parents or a beating; when he tended to your wounds and brought you ice for your bruises.

jason todd is only twelve when he sits across from you in his own room and frowns when you don't answer his questions.

“why didn't you stay tonight? i offered,” jason sighed, continuing to treat your wounds and blow on your cuts every time you hissed and squeezed your eyes shut in pain. “but you know i don't wanna bother you,” you admit in a half tone, not even looking up at him, “i didn't think—“ “i knew this would happen,” he interrupts, frowning harder and applying ice to the bruise on your cheek.

it wasn't new or shocking; todd had always noticed the bruises on your arms and legs, even if you actively covered them up and no one around you could even suspect what you went through every day. it was still painful, though. seeing you suffer was painful, realizing that you were beaten almost every day was even more painful, realizing that you had no one to protect you but him was unbearable.

“i don't wanna go back,” you whispered, sobbing. jason's heart nearly broke when he heard you crying. he reached out, opening his arms and hugging you as tightly as he could, “i don't wanna…” “stay,” todd whispers back, feeling your arms wrap around his neck, “you don't need to go to the hospital? is it serious?” “i hate hospitals,” you parry, sighing and pulling away a little. “like i even care.” you chuckle softly, snuggling closer to jason; he takes a deep breath as he hugs you back just as hard, trying to calm his own heart. you looked like you were about to fall apart because of the amount of wounds, and it hurt him so much to watch you. jason todd is only twelve when he realizes how much he loves you and how much you want to protect you from everything bad.

jason todd is only fifteen when he wipes away your tears and whispers something about killing the asshole who said there was something wrong with you. how the fuck could he say something like that to a girl who comes close to the definitions of the words “perfect” and “angel”? you were so beautiful, so fucking smart, and just… perfect.

“that's not true, and you know it,” jason sighed, pulling you to his chest and stroking your hair, “he looks like a creep.” you couldn't help but laugh softly, even though you were sobbing on his chest; in a way, it was a true comment, you'd always recognized the fact that you had bad luck with guys.

“you look good,” todd rested his chin on the top of your head and continued, “he just doesn't have any good taste, that's all,” jason's arms wrapped around your body and snuggled closer, soothing and cradling you.

you always fell in love with the wrong people. you fell in love so hard and so bitter that even todd was incredibly hurt for you. when you cried over some assholes, he always promised to beat them up later. and you never noticed, of course, that they were all bruised for the next week. jason todd is only fifteen when he promises himself he'll protect you with all his might.

jason todd is only eighteen when he rushes across town to you, almost praying that nothing happens to you. he grabs your arm, pulling you away from your house while snatching your hastily packed bag of clothes out of your hands; you wipe away tears with your sleeve as he hands you a helmet and places you on the bike, indicating in a harsh tone that you should hold on to it tightly.

yes, jason is obviously angry, but not at the fact that you called him at three in the morning asking him to pick you up from the house after another beating; he was angry primarily at himself because he thinks he should have seen it coming. should have asked you to stay at his place after class tonight on some stupid excuse; todd thinks he should have done anything to prevent it from happening again. but when you press your chest against his back and when he feels you close by, feels that you're alive and that you're with him, he feels a little better.

“you need to go to the hospital?” jason stops outside the high-rise building where his apartment is and takes off his helmet, turning to you. he takes off your helmet and sees you crying. his heart breaks into a million pieces as he looks at you. his palms reach out and pull you into a warm, silent embrace, making you feel safe. todd strokes your back in a comforting gesture, leaving a brief kiss on the top of your head — it's just comforting one, too, but jason puts a little more meaning into it than you think.

“what about the hospital?” after a couple minutes of silence, he asks, wiping the remnants of tears from the corners of his eyes. “i still hate hospitals.” “and i still don't care.”

jason todd is only eighteen when he suggests you move in with him for your own safety.

jason todd is twenty now, and he's been staring at the ceiling for an hour, trying to get his head together and come to terms with the realization that he's nothing more than a best friend to you; nothing more than a big brother figure who's there to protect you from everything. but that's not a bad thing, of course; just being around you is like a blessing, and knowing that you're okay and safe is almost a grace.

he’s just a companion for you — and it’s enough.

[starlightshadowsworld]

The Wary Weretiger

"You know, I think therapy might be more effective than this." Said Atsushi. He didn't need to turn around to know Akutugawa was rolling his eyes.

"Shut up."

Atsushi raised his hand, catching the orange. "Huh, you even peeled it this time. Must be serious."

He wasn't exactly sure how they got here. Akutagawa had been hunting him down for his bounty.... And than one day just stopped. Somewhere along the lines this had become their routine.

Akutugawa ranted at him, Atsushi sat and ate whatever fruit he'd pick up on the way. Sometimes he'd voice his own opinion and Akutugawa would begrudgingly listen.

It was werid.

But not unwelcome.

It definitely beat having his leg cut off, that's for sure.

"Go on, out with it. I'm busy today." Akutugawa scoffed "and what could you be possibly busy with." Atsushi shrugged "well I still need to get a job."

It didn't matter how much he saved from what he stole from the Orphanage, it wouldn't last him much longer.

"I thought the Agency offered you a position." Said Akutugawa, carefully. As kind as Atsushi was he fought like a caged beast. He could and would ditch Akutugawa if the other offended him.

And Akutugawa didn't want to admit he liked his company.

Atsushi took a bite out of an orange slice "only because of my ability. They're nice people, but I'll find a job myself. Besides that would you my enemy and I am not dealing with that."

His leg would grow back but it was painful. And being on Akutugawa's not bad side was a nice place to be.

Not that Atsushi would admit it.

Akutagawa nodded, he could respect wanting to keep your pride even when you were at rock bottom. But even soo... "Is it so bad for them to want you for your ability?"

Atsushi paused.

"My whole life people have only wanted my ability. They've tried to rip it out of me because they felt entitled to it.... Do you really think I'd want to join an organisation that values it so highly?"

There was an edge to his tone, but also sadness. Akutugawa's eyes went wide in shock.

He unconsciously tugged his coat closer. He wouldn't know what to do if Rashomon was stolen from him.

Akutugawa felt vulnerable just taking a bath, he couldn't imagine how Atsushi felt feeling his ability get ripped out of his skin. It was fortunate that it clearly failed.

It certainly explained Atsushi's distrust of both light and dark.

"I suppose not." Said Akutugawa, going quiet in thought. He went back to his initial question.

"I was once in a situation like yours. I lived in the slums, it was there Dazai found me and I joined the Port Mafia. That became my purpose, and I'm lost without it. But you... You don't have that, and yet you seem satisfied."

Atsushi hummed, thoughtful. "I'm gonna say something, but right or wrong you're not allowed to stab me again."

Akutagawa scoffed.

"I stabbed you one time, stop acting like it was such a big deal.... But very well, I won't stab you."

Atsushi turned to face Akutugawa, putting his orange slices back into a tupperware box. "That isn't your purpose."

Akutagawa is taken aback. He wants to argue but something in him stops him. The way Atsushi spoke to him now was different to how he usually does.

He sounded like Dazai.

Dazai in the quiet moments, the rare moments when Akutugawa hadn't failed him. The all seeing look in his eye as he read Akutugawa like an open book.

"You had a purpose, one you cherished like a second soul. But you lost it. You tried to convince yourself whatever you consider your purpose now is it, but it isn't. And it never will be."

And yet when Atsushi spoke it was kind. It wasn't intended to tear Akutugawa down, quite the opposite. And Akutugawa found himself unable to look away.

"... How do you know this?"

Atsushi smiled, it was small and sad and it didn't fit him like his usual grin did. "You wouldn't be trying so hard to find your purpose if you truly believed you found it."

He looked away, giving Akutugawa some privacy in his own thoughts. "Ask yourself, who were you before the Port Mafia? Who were you back when you were like me? There's you're answer."

Akutagawa frowned, deep in thought. He'd been... He'd been weaker and pitiful. A small child who killed whoever went in his way, but killing hadn't changed in his life.

He was the Port Mafia's Rabid dog, he was still a killer so that wasn't it.

What had he been killing for? In the Port Mafia it was because those were his orders. Because the weak needed to be destroyed to make way for the strong.

Back in the slums it had been for survival. Akutugawa would've died many times over if he'd let those idiots survive. And Gin wouldn't have survived of he hadn't protected her from them.

Akutagawa froze.

... That's what it was. He had been a protector, his reason for killing down in the slums was to protect Gin and his friends.

His friends who were killed on the night Dazai found him... The night Akutugawa lost his purpose and tried to gain another.

But failed.

"I can't get it back." Whispered Akutugawa, suprised that he choked up at the thought. He hadn't thought of them in years.

"You can" Said Atsushi, looking at him again. "The circumstances may have changed, but the core premise is the same. You just have to open yourself up to that."

Open himself up? So Akutugawa had to find something else to protect? That... Didn't seem so hard, given the Port Mafia protected the city from the shadows. And Gin was still with him.

Had it really been infront of him, all this time?

"That's the difference between us" said Atsushi, quietly but Akutugawa caught it. "You had a purpose only to lose it. While I have never had one."

Atsushi chuckled and it was sad again and Akutugawa hated it. He preferred when Atsushi was genuinely happy. When his smile reached his eyes, his eyes that were kind and shined with light.

Now they looked so empty, so sad.

"You think I'm satisfied but I'm not. I have no dreams, no aspirations, my worth is tied entirely to my ability. I live to spite all those that want me dead, to stop them from taking the tiger if I pass on. I have no purpose, not really."

Akutugawa didn't know what to say, all he could do was nod in goodbye when Atsushi left.

He reached down, picking up the half of orange Atsushi saved for him. That he always saved for him, no matter how hard times got.

"You're wrong" he said to the wind as he walked away. "You're so much more than you're ability."