#I don’t think he’s capable of subtly

[gabriels-golden-kazoo]

Nothing like dyeing my hair on the floor of my lounge whilst watching the archangel Gabriel eye fuck his brother’s destined vessel

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake, Sleep-Deprived Overlord Extraordinaire (and the Boy Who Grounds Him)

The thing about Tim Drake is that he’s brilliant. The thing about Tim Drake without sleep is that he’s unhinged.

It always starts subtly. A missed night of sleep here, a triple shift there. His words get sharper, his focus becomes razor-edged, and the bats can practically see the neurons in his brain firing like a thousand fireworks.

Then, somewhere around hour 56 of no sleep, Tim crosses the threshold into full-blown megalomania.

He doesn’t just think he’s smart—he knows it. He’ll drop gems like, “Honestly, Gotham’s infrastructure is appalling. If I really wanted to, I could take over the city in 72 hours, tops,” or “Do you think I could reprogram every Bat-computer in the Cave before Bruce notices? Because I can.”

Which—yeah, okay, the family knows he’s capable of it, but it’s terrifying.

When he’s in this state, Tim walks around with the energy of someone who’s cracked the secrets of the universe and is two steps away from becoming a benevolent dictator. His confidence is unsettling. His hyper-awareness is borderline supernatural.

The bats try. Oh, do they try.

“Tim,” Dick says gently, holding out a cup of chamomile tea and a soft blanket. “Maybe you should lie down for a bit.”

Tim doesn’t even glance at him. “Lying down is for the weak, Dick. Also, you left your phone on the counter. Might wanna grab it before someone texts Kori again.”

Dick freezes. He did leave his phone on the counter, and he can only hope Tim didn't do anything with it (Though his comment definitely says otherwise).

“Tim,” Bruce says, the Big Bat Voice in full swing. “You need to rest.”

Tim smirks, flipping through his tablet. “Rest is for the dead, and I’m not in the mood for ghosts tonight. Also, you forgot to update the encryption on your personal server. Again.”

Even Damian tries, but he gets as far as hurling a batarang at Tim’s leg before Tim dodges it without looking. “Tsk tsk, Damian. You’re getting predictable.”

It’s chaos. It’s exhausting.

Enter Danny Fenton.

Danny’s used to Tim’s shenanigans by now. He’s been around for enough of Tim’s sleep-deprivation arcs to know the signs. The sharp eyes, the slightly-too-bright smile, the way he starts muttering plans for world domination like he’s drafting a grocery list.

Danny lets it slide for a while—Tim in hyper-mode is kind of cute, in a “my boyfriend might accidentally take over the world” way. But then he sees the bags under Tim’s eyes, the way his hands tremble just slightly from over-caffeination, and he knows it’s time to intervene.

Danny doesn’t use tea. He doesn’t try reason. He doesn’t even bother with the blanket method.

Instead, Danny steps into the Cave, tilts his head at Tim, and says, “Honey, can we cuddle?”

Tim freezes.

The bats, who have been subjected to hours of Tim’s unrelenting, untouchable brilliance, watch in shock as their insurmountable sibling folds like a deck of cards.

“I—uh—cuddle?” Tim stammers, blinking like a deer in headlights.

Danny smiles, soft and sweet and just shy of smug. “Yeah, I miss you. Come to bed with me?”

Tim’s resolve crumbles. He’s already pulling off his gauntlets. “Yeah, okay. Just for a bit.”

“A bit,” Danny agrees, but he’s already leading Tim upstairs.

The bats are left standing in the Cave, mouths agape.

Jason’s the first to break the silence. “Did we just get out-maneuvered by Tim’s boyfriend? The guy who hangs out with Harley Quinn for fun?”

Dick snorts. “I mean, are we really surprised? Danny’s been handling Tim better than any of us for years.”

Bruce exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing. “As long as Tim’s resting, I don’t care how it happened. Danny’s good for him.”

“Yeah,” Jason agrees with a shrug. “Kid’s weird, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. And if he can get Replacement to sleep, I’ll send him a damn fruit basket.”

The bats exchange a rare moment of collective relief.

Upstairs, Danny tucks Tim into bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face as Tim curls into him. He doesn’t care about strategies or what the bats think. All that matters is Tim, finally at peace in his arms.

"Sleep well, genius," Danny murmurs, pressing a kiss to Tim’s forehead. And for the first time in days, Tim does.

[celesteleoves]

hey! can you do headcanons on Bakugou and Izuku (separate) with a reader who's quiet and doesn't talk much but is Hella strong. How would they react to it? If you do thanks sm! it's really sweet of you!!!! :)

“SO SWEET, WITH A MEAN STREAK.”

KATSUKI BAKUGOU/IZUKU MIDORIYA x reader.

summary: your quiet strength intrigues these two boys, how would they react to you before/in a relationship?

warnings: none!!

a/n: this is such a cute ask!! i hope this is to your liking and if it isn’t and you think something is missing, let me know! this is also quiet short because i have a fever 😔

—

KATSUKI BAKUGOU —

before dating:

i can imagine him being a little skeptical of you, but so intrigued!

he’d definitely want to see how far your strength could go. so, bakugou would subtly challenge you during training sessions, pushing you to see your true capabilities.

he’d nevee admit it but he looks up to you in a way. you don’t boast and scream about your strength like he does - that makes him respect you. he would start to see your quiet nature as a sign of focus and determination rather than a sign of weakness.

he’s so competitive… it’s honestly a little scary. before you two were even close to being friends or anything more, he’d definitely get a competitive drive when it comes to you.

this idiot would definitely think he’s competing with you 24/7 even though you remind him you are not. he thinks doing this will make you become more outgoing and competitive.

“HA! i finished my bowl of ramen before you, loser, i won!”

“we were competing over that?” i’d be confused if i were you too… he’s a little slow but he’s got the spirit!

dating him:

once you two start dating, bakugou becomes fiercely protective of you, admiring your strength and determination even more. he thinks his role in the relationship is to protect you from anything that might make you lose your strength!

he’s so loud (we know that obviously) but with you, he’s loud in a supportive way. he’s now boasting about you and your strength instead of his own!

he encourages you to continue improving and growing, offering both praise and constructive criticism. even if you don’t need it, he’ll keep doing it anyway.

bakugo has never felt like he had a opponent that could really give him a run for his money, until you two train together.

training with him would be so so sweet. if he hit you too hard, he’d immediately worried if you didn’t tell him you were alright. (he won’t outwardly admit he’s worried about you but you know deep down he is!)

“are you bleeding? you shithead! i’m not worried... are youbleedingthoughbecauseifyouarethat’snotgood-”

“fuck, did i burn you? don’t start. i’m not worried about you at all, tch!” he says this as the tip of his ears are burning from lying…

he’d still work hard while training with you but still making sure he isn’t doing too much during simple sparring matches. he likes to learn from your strengths and weaknesses!

everyday is a day where you two grow together and bakugou is proud of you for simple improvements in your strength (you’re stronger than him lol and he knows you could take him down in a second!)

IZUKU MIDORIYA —

before dating:

Izuku notices your quiet demeanor but senses a strong presence and capability within you. he’d write about your strength and weaknesses in his hero notebook. he’d ask you so much questions (totally not to get to know you better… totally…)

“sorry- i’m not trying to be a bother but can you tell me more about your quirk! it’s so cool and you’re so strong!” he blushes immediately after rambling about how you’re so talented and your strength is admirable. meanwhile, your twirling your hair over the fact he thinks your strong!

one time, you caught him drawing out your hero suit and make little point notes about it. you went to your dorm and giggled about it for the rest of the day. it literally felt like a award to be in his hero notebook!

we all know izuku is his classmates biggest supporter, he is always wanting his classmates to grow alongside him and is pushing everyone to become the best hero they can be!

with you, he offers encouragement and support to you, believing in your potential and wanting you to believe in yourself as well.

because of your quiet nature, izuku might try and show his admiration for you in anyway he can. he admires your quiet determination, seeing it as a reflection of your inner strength and resolve.

basically, he’s your #1 fan!

you two initially work well together as teammates, with Izuku valuing your contributions and skills.

once you two start dating, it’s a whole different story!

dating him:

your relationship deepens Izuku’s admiration for your quiet strength, appreciating how you compliment each other. (everyone is class 1-A is still shocked at how well you two compliment each other, even before you guys were dating!)

izuku becomes a source of emotional support for you, understanding your quiet nature and providing comfort when needed. he never tries to push you outside of your comfort zone, enjoying your quiet times when his day has been stressful and filled with loud classmates.

you two continue to train together, pushing each other to improve and achieve your goals. you always tell him about how you want to grow your relationship by training and working hard together!(izuku almost cries when you tell him that, pls he loves you so much)

izuku and you build a strong foundation of trust and understanding, working towards your dreams together while supporting each other every step of the way.

he enjoys your company more than anyone else, not only are you strong physically but you are strong mentally. your words of encouragement and advice after a tough day of training always make him want to jump off the walls! you have that effect on him!

—

for both boys, whether before or after they start dating you, katsuki and izuku come to deeply appreciate your quiet strength and see it as an integral part of your relationship dynamics!

[crows4luna]

759 words. mature, no explicit content. gn!reader. allusions to having sex for the first time, reader identifying as aspec.

Gods, this was embarrassing.

You always berated yourself for feeling different from others, not seeing or understanding the pull of attraction that your friends ogled about. More often, that grimacing discomfort came up amid the overwhelming desires the public had over celebrities. Deep down, the detachment wasn’t from a place of malice or pure hatred.

You just… never had the explicit feel, so to speak.

Even in high school, through college, you thought of crushes as an obligatory part of your generational experiences. (For a brief moment, your mind flashes back to when you were gifted the latest album of your favorite boy band by some guy who was infatuated with you. It ended quick, lasting only for two weeks before you cut things off through text.)

Considering everything you’ve dealt with, you like to say you have refined tastes. It holds up in truth, for you were currently laying in Sylus’ lavish bed, clad in only his burgundy robe he often wore after showers. It was early morning in the N109 Zone, as much as a morning could show itself, and he had gotten up first. You couldn’t help but to let your gaze linger on his slightly sluggish form.

Sylus was everything you’d dreamt of and more, that sometimes he didn’t feel real. He knew the kind of man he was, confident of his status and power. Certainly, that played a part in how you two got off on the wrong foot when it came to your first meeting.

But now, he means everything to you. He means the world. Your heart was sated knowing the feeling was mutual.

He stretches his right arm across his chest, craning his head from side to side to even out the tensions in his shoulders. Your observation is a bit intense, but you can’t even blame yourself.

Sylus was already tall in his stature, maintaining a build that was the result of hard work and priority of physicality. The foundation of broad shoulders, followed by delicately contoured lines surrounding the center line of his back. A slim waist with slightly wider hips and defined, thick glutes. Though his back was facing you, your breath hitches knowing of the frontal plane of his abs and hardened, cushioned pecs.

He was captivating, and though his figure appeared godlike, blessed to even spare a glance, you’ve seen it in action countless times. The very same figure that protects you like a natural reflex, that trains with you to heighten your own senses and defense.

“I can feel your stare, sweetie,” his deep voice rumbles, a low, amused chuckle filling the room. “Enjoying the sight, are you?”

Quickly, you avert your gaze, curling in on yourself and now focusing on the tousled sheets of midnight silk. You clear your throat, speechless and overwhelmed that it is Sylus who dedicates himself to you. The heat that pools in your stomach makes itself evident when your cheeks warm up — then you feel a dip in the bed.

Your eyes flicker up, now face to face with those sharp, red eyes.

Sylus grins, tracing his finger over your jaw, “Don’t get shy on me, now. It’s quite alright—I like that you’re enjoying yourself.”

Damn it. Say something, you coward.

Cautiously, you lift your hand to cup his. The slow motion is familiar and tantalizing, practicing it the same way Sylus’ touch would linger on your skin. You’re perceptive to the way he inhales just slightly, anticipating your next move. The mystery of your initiation.

“I…” You begin to say, your voice nearing a whisper, “I think… I wanna try.”

He raises a brow, subtly smirking: “Try…?”

“Sylus, please. You know what I’m—it feels embarrassing to say.”

“We’re both adults, capable of voicing our thoughts and consent,” he surmises, shifting his hand away to lean into your palm. He lets his cheek rest for a second, before turning to press a soft kiss. “I told you before, I won’t make a move until you gain that confidence to tell me what you want. I want you to be honest with me, and only honest.”

Your expression softens, nodding slowly in understanding. You lean forward a bit more, now cupping his face with both hands. Your thumbs brush over the areas beneath his eyes, admiring him.

“...I want… you. To make me feel good.” You tell him, your voice firmer this time, contrary to moments ago, “I trust you. I want this, and I want you.”

He lets out a relaxed sigh, chuckling again. He nods, “Okay.”

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Offering an NPD perspective on Ford Pines, because I feel the most common discussions surrounding his narcissistic traits tends to go in two ways — from what I’ve personally seen — and that’s defending him, and denying the mere possibility he may have NPD because it’s seen as a negative, or using NPD as a way to villainise him, and thus demonise NPD. Or, the alternative, this part of his character is completely overlooked.

That isn’t to say I haven’t seen some wonderful analyses on Ford and NPD, rather, I find it surprisingly lacking when his character might be some of the best representation of my own experience struggling with narcissism (alongside Bill).

I believe a lot of it stems from the misconception and stigma around NPD, and the fact Ford goes again common, typically incorrect, ideas, such as showing genuine care for other people, and accepting his failures and where he went wrong in the end, trying to repair his relationship with Stan, and realising that he doesn’t need to be recognised worldwide, as he’s found happiness with his family instead. All of these do not correlate with the media idea of a narcissist, but the fact is, narcissists are no different from any other disorder or mental health issue. We come in all different forms, and the idea we are inherently abusive or evil is such a widespread misconception that it becomes difficult getting help or support.

And that’s why I find Ford so important.

This alone, to me, describes in simple words how it feels to deal with NPD, and though you could argue Bill is projecting here, I think the point is they’re so similar, the lines blur. Both struggle with this same mentality, but Ford is able to reach out, and accept help, and Bill lets himself sink deeper and deeper into his own lies. Also, I’d argue it isn’t Bill projecting, because we sees evidence of this behaviour in Ford in the show and the journal.

He’s someone who believes himself destined for greatness, and won’t accept the bare minimum, such as when Fiddleford suggests he publish his research as is — No, he can’t have that. He has to be the one to uncover this grand theory. He has to have his name cemented amongst the greats. He believes himself to be special, different and more capable than other people, and yet he longs for the company of others all the same. He lives off of validation and praise, and strives for it, his own ego clashing against his lack of self-worth. Bill’s manipulations work on him because Ford eats up this sort of validation — it’s like one big high. It’s confirmation he is special. He is meant for greater things. He was right.

Ford notably struggles with empathy, which is likely both related to his autism, and also his narcissism. Other people simply don’t make sense to him. It takes effort for him to be able to understand people where they’re at, and he is willing to put in that effort notably, taking note of Fiddleford’s habits for example.

He also does struggle with manipulation and being deeply self-centred. A great example being Dipper’s apprenticeship. Ford is very subtly manipulating the situation here, and he doesn’t even notice, which is, in my own experience, common with NPD. He’s also unable to see Dipper and Mabel as, well, Dipper and Mabel, rather putting his own issues with Stan onto them, especially Dipper. He sees Dipper as a younger version of himself, and is trying to point him in that direction, never thinking whether it’s actually right for Dipper, or whether it’s for himself.

I could probably go on, like how he tends to have a black and white view of people, with his opinions on them easily flicking between extremes as a method of coping, or how he panics at the idea of his life’s work being destroyed, despite knowing the dangers.

Whether you agree he has NPD or not, Ford definitely has a lot of narcissistic traits, and yet, despite that, despite every mistake he’s made, everyone he’s pushed away, he gets a second chance. He gets to be loved and understood. He finds happiness. He gets to recover.

It’s very rare that characters with so many narcissistic traits get endings like that!

Ford is not a bad person because he’s a narcissist, he’s just a person, one who’s fucked up, and who’s still learning, and still healing, and that’s why he works. That’s why he’s such a comfort.

On a final note, If you are someone who’s going to argue vehemently against this idea, I kindly ask you simply scroll by!

[shizuturnspages]

I love your yan Diluc, it's genuinely one of THE best ones I've seen!!

Please consider: Diluc w/ reader being Knight of Favoinus

Yandere Diluc with a Knight of Favonius Darling

Diluc doesn’t hate the Knights of Favonius—not entirely. But the idea of the one person he cherishes most being a part of the organization he’s grown so disillusioned with? That’s a bitter pill for him to swallow.

Conflicted Emotions:

❥ Diluc sees your role in the Knights as both a strength and a vulnerability. He admires your bravery and dedication, but he loathes the idea of you putting yourself in harm’s way for an institution he believes is fundamentally flawed.

❥ “You work yourself to exhaustion for people who wouldn’t lift a finger for you,” he says one evening, his tone sharp. “The Knights don’t deserve you.”

Possessive Concern:

❥ Your status as a Knight makes Diluc hyperaware of the risks you face daily. Missions, patrols, skirmishes—they all represent potential threats to your safety, and that drives him mad.

❥ He often tries to convince you to take easier assignments or outright avoid dangerous missions. If that doesn’t work, he’s not above subtly interfering—delaying your orders, pulling strings to reassign you, or even secretly completing your mission for you.

❥ “You can’t expect me to stand by and watch you risk your life,” he insists when you confront him. “I’m only doing what’s best for you.”

Tension with the Knights:

❥ Diluc’s disdain for the Knights creates friction in your relationship, especially when it comes to Kaeya. He doesn’t trust his brother’s motives or influence over you, and he’s not shy about expressing that.

❥ If Kaeya so much as teases you in Diluc’s presence, the tension is palpable. “I’d appreciate it if you kept your distance,” Diluc says coldly, his eyes narrowing at his brother.

The Darknight’s Shadow:

❥ As the Darknight Hero, Diluc often follows you on patrols without your knowledge. He sees it as his duty to ensure your safety, even if it means operating in your shadow.

❥ You might notice fewer threats during your patrols, unaware that Diluc has already taken care of them. To him, it’s proof that he’s the only one truly capable of protecting you.

Scenario: A Dangerous Mission

The bustling streets of Mondstadt were a far cry from the quiet tension brewing in the Dawn Winery. You stood near the doorway, adjusting the straps of your armour, while Diluc leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.

“You’re not going,” he said, his voice low but firm.

You sighed, not for the first time. “Diluc, it’s my job. There’s a report of hilichurls near Springvale, and I’ve been assigned to handle it. It’s routine.”

“It’s unnecessary.” His crimson eyes met yours, burning with intensity. “They’re sending you on missions that anyone else could handle. Why does it always have to be you?”

“Because I’m good at what I do,” you shot back, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “And because this is what I signed up for.”

Diluc straightened, pushing off the wall to close the distance between you. “You’re risking your life for people who wouldn’t care if something happened to you.” His voice wavered, and for a moment, his mask of stoicism cracked. “Do you think they’d mourn you the way I would?”

You faltered, taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. But you couldn’t let him control you—not like this.

“That’s not fair,” you said, your tone softer now. “I know you care, Diluc. But this is my choice, my responsibility. I can’t just abandon it because you don’t like the Knights.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might argue further. But instead, he turned away, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

“Fine,” he said, his voice icy. “But don’t expect me to sit by and do nothing.”

Later that night, as you patrolled near Springvale, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. The moon hung high in the sky, casting long shadows over the forest. Every so often, you thought you saw movement out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned, there was nothing there.

Unbeknownst to you, Diluc trailed in the distance, his claymore resting against his shoulder as he eliminated threats before they could reach you. He moved silently, his dark cloak blending with the night.

When you returned to Mondstadt unharmed, you’d chalk it up to an uneventful patrol. But for Diluc, it was proof that his vigilance was necessary.

As you fell asleep that night, exhausted from your duties, Diluc stood watch outside your window, his gaze unwavering.

“You’ll see it one day,” he murmured to himself. “That I’m the only one who truly cares. The only one who’ll protect you.”

[gothcsz]

oh to have javi come over and seduce you when you're out at a bar and then fuck you so good you can't even think straight

tags: f!reader, mentions of infidelity, established relationship, no use of y/n, roleplaying, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 2k w/c - gif cred

a/n: you guys must be stopped! leaving me sexy prompts like this! i have no choice but to write themmmmm! i got an ask a few weeks ago talking about roleplaying with javi and well... i had to incorporate it somehow. also, that one scene in narcos (hence the gif…) hehe enjoy cariño 🖤

You sit hunched over your martini glass, idly swirling the ice. The air in the bar is warm and hazy, filled with laughter and conversations you’re barely aware of.

It’s been a long week—the kind of week that crawls under your skin and leaves you in desperate need of a drink.

You had left work with no destination in mind, eventually finding your way here, hoping your favorite cocktail would smooth out the edges before you had to face the quiet of home.

You take the last sip of your drink just as the bartender places a fresh one in front of you, her lips pulled into a knowing smile. “Courtesy of the cute guy down there,” she says, jerking her head toward the end of the bar. Instinctively, you turn to look.

And he’s… well, calling him cute feels criminally inadequate.

He’s handsome as hell, with dark, captivating eyes and features that would look more at home on the big screen than here, in the half-light of this neighborhood bar.

He smirks like he knows exactly the effect he has. You meet his gaze, lift your glass in acknowledgment, and take a careful sip.

That’s all the invitation he needs. He slides off his stool, weaving his way through the scattered crowd until he’s beside you, easing into the empty seat with a smoothness that feels almost practiced.

The confidence only adds to his appeal.

“Didn’t know people still did this,” you say with a wry smile, though you’re subconsciously reveling in the attention.

You shift your hand subtly, so the glint of your ring catches the light—a reflex, a reminder to yourself and a warning for him.

His gaze sweeps over you with an unapologetic gleam. “Did I come off too strong? Couldn’t help myself, especially not with a beautiful woman drinking alone. Feels like fate.”

You laugh, the sound escaping you before you can stop it. There’s something invigorating about his brazen confidence, and he seems to notice, leaning a little closer.

“He must be out of town or something,” he murmurs, his eyes drifting down to the diamond on your ring finger. “No way he’d let you sit here all by yourself.”

You tilt your chin up a little, defiant. “I’m perfectly capable of going out on my own, thank you very much.”

He hums, a low, amused sound as he lifts his glass and takes a slow sip. The scent of bourbon reaches you, mingling with the subtle notes of smoke and black teakwood radiating from him.

“So you’re married,” He murmurs, more of an observation than a question.

“Three years,” you reply, and when his brow arches with playful curiosity, you can’t help but feel the tiniest thrill. There’s something intoxicating about a stranger’s interest, especially one with beautiful brown eyes that linger just a second longer than they should.

“Three years… Happily?” His words are gentle, teasing, yet they strike a nerve, and you can’t help but tip your head back and giggle, feeling the warmth of the alcohol and his presence loosening something inside you.

“Is this your thing?” you ask, feigning suspicion as you lean toward him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Chasing after lonely, married women at bars?”

His head tilts slightly, intrigued. “Lonely?” he echoes, the word rolling off his tongue like a test. His brow lifts just a fraction. “Now, don’t tell me he’s not taking care of you.”

You straighten, getting a little defensive. “He does, trust me,” you say, and though you mean it, there’s a flicker of something—a crack in the polished surface you present. “It’s just… his job. He works long hours, and it’s been hard, not seeing each other as much as we used to.”

You’re definitely tipsy, venting to this stranger that’s hitting on you about your marriage and how it’s fallen into a rut recently. To keep yourself from digging yourself a deeper hole, you drink more of your cocktail.

As if sensing the vulnerability behind your words, he leans in closer, his attention unbreakable, drawing you in like a force of gravity. His eyes move, tracing the shape of your lips against your glass, dipping down to the glimpse of lace beneath your blouse.

He lets out a low, exaggerated sigh, shaking his head as he lifts his drink again. “Shame, really,” he murmurs, eyes flicking back to meet yours. “If it were me, no job would keep me from a wife as stunning as you.”

His words hit you like a warm gust of wind, filling you with a sudden, startling awareness of how long it’s been since anyone looked at you like this, made you feel desired. And you can’t really blame your husband, you knew what you were getting yourself into when you said yes to his proposal—how demanding his job is.

But all of your logical reasoning seems to disappear entirely in the presence of this rugged, attractive man.

Your cheeks heat, and instinctively, your thighs press together. He notices, a spark of amusement lighting his face as he leans just a bit closer.

And then, his hand lands on your thigh, his fingers spreading out over the fabric of your pants. It’s a daring move, but there’s something about it that thrills you, and you feel a low hum of excitement settling in your core.

Oh, he’s bold.

“What are you doing?” you whisper, though there’s no true bite in your voice.

“Just testing the waters,” his hand inches slightly higher, fingertips grazing your skin. He leans in, breath warm against your ear, and your skin curls. “Seeing if I’m readin’ things right.”

“Are you?” The words are barely audible, more of a breath than a question, but he hears you.

“Why don’t you tell me?” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles that send electricity up your leg.

You swallow, feeling a surge of reckless abandon taking over as you ask, “What’s your name?”

“Javier,” he answers, “Call me Javi. Or whatever you want, really.”

“And what makes you think I’d throw away years of my relationship for one night with you, Javi?”

His smile morphs into a cocky smirk, confidence radiating off him. “Because,” he whispers, eyes glazed over with a heat that makes your pulse race, “I’d make it worth your while.”

For a second, you consider letting him take you on this bar in front of all these people. His hand squeezes your thigh gently, the pressure igniting a spark low in your belly. 

He leans back, his gaze fixed on you as he studies your face, waiting, watching for any sign of permission.

At last, you let out a breath, reaching down to place your hand over his. With a polite smile, you slide it off your leg. “I can tell that handsome face of yours always gets you what you want. That won’t be the case tonight, but I’m flattered. Thank you for the drink, Javier.”

He drags his thumb across his bottom lip, a slow, almost contemplative gesture as his gaze rakes over you one last time. “No problem,” he says, voice dripping with an almost playful disdain. “Have fun with your husband.” His words dance in that gray area between teasing and tempting.

You know better than to stay any longer, aware that another moment with him will get you in trouble. It’s already dangerous that you let his hand linger on you, already a risk that your mind wandered to how blissful a night with him would be. You’re not the kind of person who cheats—or at least, you didn’t think you were.

He downs the rest of his drink, his eyes fixed on you with that lingering, dark curiosity before he finally pushes back, letting the warmth of his presence slip away like a tide retreating, leaving you almost breathless.

You can’t believe yourself, how part of you feels ready to throw caution to the wind for one more minute in his attention. 

A surge of longing—a need to feel desired, to feel seen—overcomes you. Before you can stop yourself, your voice slips out, soft but clear. “Actually…”

He halts, that cocky smile curling at the edges as he turns, his eyes glinting as he faces you, slowly, like a cat stalking back into a room. His grin grows wider, a spark of victory there as he watches you, waiting for what you’ll say.

“I think I could use another drink.”

Your body is flush against Javier’s, his skin hot and slick beneath your fingers as you straddle his lap on the couch. Every inch of you feels alive, heightened, as you move with purpose, grinding down on him like the cock starved woman that you’ve turned into.

He fills you perfectly, stretching and pressing in ways that make your toes curl and your mind blur. Sweat slips down your spine as you cling to him, feeling his mouth on your neck, trailing heated kisses that turn into little bites on your chin, each one sending another jolt of pleasure through you.

His hands are rough and possessive, gripping your ass and guiding your movements, matching the frantic, hungry rhythm you’ve both built together.

There’s nothing but him—the heat, the pressure, the way he’s burying himself in your cunt.

You’re mindless, every thrust bringing you closer to that tipping point. You can feel your pussy tightening around him, already on the edge.

You’ve lost count of how many times he’s coaxed you to release tonight. On his tongue, his fingers—each one drowning you in white heat and leaving you gasping.

This one on his cock, though, is building with a tantalizing pressure, leaving you almost immobile as you near it.

Your body is already feeling sore.

“Look so pretty bouncing on my cock.” His praise, laced with his own need, sends you over.

You shudder, your walls clenching around him as you gush your creamy release all over his cock. Your head falls back while another orgasm surges through you, crying out his name.

He growls in response, shifting you beneath him, your back hitting the cushions as he moves over you. His hips snap forward, each thrust sending another shock of pleasure through your oversensitive body until he pulls out with a grunt, fist jerking his cock until his milky release paints across your skin, warm and sticky.

You’re both panting, bodies sated and tangled together in a haze of lust and satisfaction.

He leans his weight onto you, pressing close without a care for the mess between you as he buries his face in your neck, letting your heartbeats slowly calm in sync. 

“Lonely, huh?” he murmurs, his voice gravelly, breaking the cozy silence.

You can’t help but snort softly, fingers finding their way into his dark hair and giving it a playful tug, a gentle reprimand. “It’s true.”

Javier pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes tender and filled with that unmistakable love, deep and unguarded. “I’m sorry, baby,” your husband whispers, shifting up on one arm while his other hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. “I promise it won’t always be like this.”

His words settle into you and you nod, still feeling the lazy warmth in your body from his touch, his kiss. Your legs wrap snugly around his waist, pulling him close. “I know, Javi. I don’t always feel like that, and I see how hard you work to make it home to me.”

He leans down, brushing his nose against yours. You close the distance, pressing a light kiss to his still-swollen lips, savoring the feeling of him so close.

After a beat, he chuckles, a playful glint flickering in his eyes. “Gotta say, the whole ‘strangers at the bar’ thing was kind of hot. Had me wondering just how many guys try their luck when you’re out there alone.”

Your lips curve into a smirk, mirroring his. “Likewise. You’re a natural flirt without meaning to.”

He scoffs playfully, shaking his head. “Other women haven’t existed to me since we met, mi amor.”

Then he goes and says things like that, a reminder of all the little ways he shows you how much you mean to him.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @angiewatson . @sunshinefive . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @dinanabuu

[mya-valentine]

Can I have some headcanons for Izuku, Katsuki, Shoto, and Tenya meeting a General Studies student, (1-C) and who’s personality is the embodiment of someone with their head in the clouds, just very relaxed and aloof and just in a permanent drunken sleep state.

(Also, Thank you for the spicy ramen scenario!.. It made me laugh so hard!.. With the League dying due to the spice, Kurogiri being a mom, and the ending with a young girl showing up a bunch of dangerous villains XD.)

Headcanon: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugo, Shoto Todoroki, and Tenya Iida Meeting a Relaxed, Aloof General Studies Student

Izuku Midoriya

Izuku is instantly intrigued by your laid-back and dreamy nature. At first, he’s a bit confused by how relaxed and nonchalant you seem, especially when you don’t stress over the little things like he does.

He’s curious about how you function in school with such an aloof demeanor, so he starts observing you and jotting down notes on your behavior.

“How do they manage to stay so calm in stressful situations?!” he wonders, almost envious of your ability to not get flustered easily.

Izuku tries to strike up conversations with you, but he quickly realizes your responses are sometimes... delayed. You might trail off mid-sentence or get lost in your thoughts, and Izuku has to gently guide the conversation back.

Over time, he finds your presence calming and actually enjoys spending time with you because you remind him to take a step back and not overthink everything.

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo’s first reaction to your aloofness is pure annoyance. He can’t stand how you seem like you’re in a permanent daydream, and it drives him crazy.

“Oi! Wake the hell up and pay attention!” He probably yells at you more than necessary, thinking you’re just slacking off.

However, when he sees that your aloof nature doesn’t mean you’re incompetent, it throws him off. You're actually quite capable, just moving at your own pace. He grudgingly starts to respect you.

Bakugo tries to get a rise out of you with his usual brashness and insults, but when you just shrug or smile lazily, it leaves him speechless. “You’re not even gonna react?!?!”

Eventually, he learns to just let you be, realizing that nothing he says will get under your skin. He might even start finding your constant calmness a little admirable (not that he’d ever admit it).

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto doesn’t mind your aloof, relaxed attitude. In fact, he relates to it a bit. He’s not one to get overly emotional either, so your chill vibe doesn’t bother him.

He appreciates your company because you never pressure him to talk or react in a certain way. You both can sit in comfortable silence, and he likes that you’re not overly talkative or demanding.

Shoto finds your dreamy, “head in the clouds” personality oddly fascinating. He might ask you questions about how you stay so carefree, genuinely wanting to know your secret to avoiding stress.

Occasionally, he’ll catch you zoning out, and he’ll subtly snap you back to attention with a quiet, “You’re drifting again.”

He finds your aloofness refreshing. It’s a change from the more intense personalities around him, and he might even start adopting some of your relaxed mindset during calmer moments.

Tenya Iida

Tenya is baffled by your carefree attitude. As someone who thrives on structure and discipline, your constant relaxed state throws him off completely.

He’s initially worried that you’re slacking or not taking your studies seriously, and he feels the need to correct your behavior. “You should be more focused! This is an important time in your academic career!”

When he realizes that despite your aloofness, you’re still doing just fine in your classes, Tenya is confused but impressed. He tries to understand how you balance being so laid-back while staying competent.

Tenya becomes determined to make you “wake up” a bit and focus more on your surroundings, often lecturing you in his usual intense manner. You, of course, just smile and nod, which leaves him both exasperated and slightly amused.

Over time, he softens around you, realizing your personality is just different from his. He might still give you friendly reminders to focus, but he’ll start to appreciate how calm you are, especially when he’s feeling stressed.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [34] - Cage

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Lack of honesty can cause resentment.

Word Count: 2700

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

If anything, your day started out pretty calm.

You were petting Alpine with one hand while scribbling on the paper with the other, and you stole a look at Bucky when he entered the kitchen. He ran a hand through his damp hair and you inhaled the scent of his aftershave as subtly as you could, pretending to be busy with the file in front of you while he made his way to the coffee machine to fill himself a cup of coffee.

You could feel his glances on you as he leaned back on the counter, sipping his coffee but you ignored him until he cleared his throat.

“So when is that asshole leaving?”

You stopped petting Alpine and lifted your head to look at him better.

“Who, Rhett?” you asked. “He just got here.”

“Doesn’t he have a city to rule?”

“He left his right hand in his place, apparently,” you told him. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

You hummed, spinning your pen between your fingers.

“You should be nicer to him, you know.”

He scoffed into his coffee mug. “Yeah sorry, I’m not capable of being nice to dickheads who gaze at my wife longingly.”

“What?”

“I’m already being civil by not shooting him, and that’s only because you told me not to.”

“You’re not going to shoot—he doesn’t gaze at me longingly, Bucky.”

“Oh he does,” he shot back. “In fact, I bet he has a plan.”

Your frown deepened. “What plan?”

“He wants to—he wants to take you to Chicago,” he said, motioning vaguely and you tilted your head, your mouth slightly open. “Yeah, he’ll feed you some bullshit about never being over you—”

“He is very much over me.”

“And he will ask you to go rule Chicago with him, and then I’ll shoot him and feed his fucking body to the dogs—”

“Can I just interrupt that very creative theory with some truth?” you asked him as Alpine jumped from the counter to the floor. “Number one, even if he weren’t over me, it wouldn’t fucking matter because I am over him.”

His eyes searched yours as if he was trying to see if you were telling the truth. “…Are you?”

“Absolutely,” you said. “Number two, whoever he is with -which is not going to be me, by the way- will not be ruling Chicago with him. Chicago’s rules are different, the crown moves through blood there. Spouses are irrelevant, they’re treated worse than heirs, or right arms. Don’t get me wrong, I hate the bitch who he’s going to marry because she’s a terrible person, but I kind of feel bad for her too because no one will ever take her seriously. King consort or queen consort, doesn’t matter because they have zero power, except for providing heirs and strengthening the loyalty of families.”

Bucky blinked a couple of times. “Jesus, and we say we have medieval rules.”   

“Exactly,” you said. “And number three, I know we both keep forgetting it but we are in fact married. Even if I weren’t over him, me going to Chicago would be grounds for war and only an idiot—”

“Trojan War started the same way, didn’t stop anyone.”

“I appreciate the compliment but I’m not the underworld edition of Helen of Troy,” you pointed out. “That’s not what’s going to happen here. Unless Eric Bana shows up, that is.”

“Which one was he in that movie, Paris?”

“Hector,” you said with a sigh. “The things I’d do to him…”

“I’m glad we had this conversation because now I will have to add him to my hitlist as well.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“The point is,” you said. “I’m not starting a war between Chicago and New York for an ex. Because that’s what Rhett is. An ex.”

“He doesn’t see you as just an ex,” Bucky told you. “You said it yourself. He trusts you.”

The sight of Rhett’s car by the campus outside your building made you stop dead in your tracks only for a moment. You could feel the smile pulling your lips as you approached him, and he took off his sunglasses to grin at you.

“Hey stranger.”

“Hey,” you said. “Look at that, you survived.”

“Mm hm.”

“I take it the same can’t be said for Lucas?”

“For him or any of his men,” he stated, leaning back to his car. “He was waiting exactly where you said he was.”

You nodded your head. “How pissed off was your father?”

“Very pissed off,” he said. “But I think it worked out pretty well, you know? Now we have sent a message.”

“The ultimate golden heir is not to be crossed or challenged,” you teased him with a small smirk. “That’s a good message.”

He heaved a sigh, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you warn me?” he asked. “I mean, aside from the orgasms I gave you—”

“That was a mutual transaction,” you pointed out, making him let out a chuckle and hold up his hands.

“It really was,” he said. “But seriously, we were broken up. And I know what promise he dangled in front of you. What, you didn’t even consider it?”

You made a face, shaking your head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“New York values loyalty over power,” you said. “That’s what I grew up with. I don’t do business with greedy backstabbers, neither would my father or anyone else in New York. Once a traitor, always a traitor.”

Rhett’s gaze was fixed on you, a light crossing his eyes as he let out a breath.

“Jesus…” he muttered. “One last transaction, cupcake?”

“Nope,” you said with a laugh. “Then we will get attached and we can’t have that. You have a city to take over, and I’m too smart to be put in the background in someone else’s empire.”

Rhett smiled softly.

“My father won’t do business with anyone in New York,” he said, and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I know. Everyone knows.”

“Neither will I,” Rhett said. “Until you need my help.”

Your eyes shot up to his, your stomach doing a happy flip.

“You’d do that for me?” you asked and he nodded.

“You saved my life, and proved that I can in fact trust you,” he said. “Chicago values loyalty above everything else. The least I can do is pay back the favor.”

A smile warmed your face. “I’ll come to collect, Rhett.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said and extended his hand. “Pleasure doing business with you, cupcake.”

You let out a giggle, and shook his hand.

“Yeah,” you said. “Likewise.”  

“Because I earned his trust,” you told him as his phone vibrated and he checked the screen, then typed something. Even if you wanted to ask who it was, you managed to control yourself, biting inside your cheek.

“Dr. Raynor rescheduled the therapy session for the evening,” you told him. “Your assistant told you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I have a meeting with Anna before that so I might be a bit late but I’ll be there.”

Your brows shot up, that familiar bitterness burning your mouth. “With Anna?”

“Mm hm,” he said. “Gotta go, I’ll see you there,”

With that, he walked out of the apartment and closed the door behind him, and Alpine jumped back on the counter, meowing at you in a very demanding manner. You heaved a sigh, stroking over her soft fur.

“We’re not going to threaten Anna,” you told her, “Because that’s a fucking insane thing to do, and we’re very logical, rational individuals, right Alpine?”

Alpine meowed again and you nodded your head.

“Mm hm,” you muttered. “Exactly.”

                                               *

“I mean it’s not that I’m jealous,” you assured Becca who only watched you with her brows raised. “Obviously that’s not what’s happening here.”

She hummed, sipping her coffee.

“It’s just that she’s a bit too friendly with him I feel like.”

“Like Rhett is a bit too friendly with you?”

“That’s very different!” you protested. “Rhett and I are going to make a deal!”

“Anna already has a deal with Bucky.”

“Whose side are you on?” you asked, sulking and she let out a laugh.

“Yours, obviously,” she said. “But I’m just saying, maybe before pointing fingers, acknowledge the fact that Rhett liked you. A lot.”

“Liked,” you repeated. “Back then. Besides, I have no feelings for him and as I told Bucky, he will get married.”

“And he will have mistresses.”

“Probably,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Alice will kill them I’m guessing. She was quite obsessed with him even while we were dating and now that Rhett says he will marry her, I do not want to think about the lengths she’d go to.”

 Your phone buzzed on the table and you checked the screen, then tilted your head. “Huh.”

“Who is it?”

“Ethan,” you said. “We haven’t talked in forever, apparently he was too busy and so was I. He wants to grab coffee sometime.”

“What is it with all your exes wanting to fuck you?” Becca asked, making your jaw drop.

“That’s not true!”

“No seriously, what are you doing to those guys?”

“I don’t do anything to them—you know what, we’re changing the subject,” you said as you put your phone back on the table. “Do you think I’ll be able to pull it off?”

“The deal?” Becca asked, “I’d say you already have.”

“Nothing is on paper yet.”

“It doesn’t matter, he flew here for that deal. He will make it.”

You drummed your fingernails on the table. “My father will have so many things to say about it I’m sure.”

“He can say whatever he wants—oh!” she sat up straighter. “Guess what I heard.”

“What?”

“Apparently, Ian is learning how to fight.”

You pulled your brows together. “I’m sorry?”

“Mm hm. His right hand is teaching him, the hot Hercules guy—”

“Ryan.”

“Yeah, him.”

You scoffed a laugh. “How did you hear about that?”

“Your father told my father and my father told my mom at breakfast,” she said. “Never too late to start I guess?”

“I mean he’s the heir,” you said with a sigh. “If the cage fight is happening…”

“You know how I feel about the cage fight tradition but for Ian’s case only, I will enjoy it,” she said. “I hate the son of a bitch.”

You squeezed her hand. “How Leila?”

“That’s actually why I wanted to meet up with you,” she said, huffing out a breath. “My mom kind of forced my hand.”

“How?”

“She and me and Leila are having brunch tomorrow.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“So I need you to tell me Leila won’t decide to dump me tomorrow.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips and you shook your head.

“She won’t,” you assured her. “Do you want me to be there? I will invite myself to that brunch, I don’t care what Winnifred thinks.”

 She looked like she was genuinely considering the idea before she made a face, then shook her head.

“Nah, I need to deal with this myself,” she muttered and you pressed a hand over your chest.

“Aw,” you said with a grin. “They grow up so fast.”

“Shut it,” she said, kicking at your shoe with hers, making you gasp. “But I’m going to need all the moral support I can get, so you will be by the phone the whole time, alright?”

You let out a laugh. “Deal.”

                                                    *

Bucky was late to the therapy session as he said he would be by fifteen minutes, and when he got there, he was rather tense. Even if you wanted to ask what had happened, you knew you couldn’t in front of the therapist so you raised your brows at him but he shook his head.

“So,” Dr. Raynor said, “Let’s pick up from where we left off the last time. How have things progressed in terms of your communication with your ex-boyfriend in the picture?”

“Him being my ex-boyfriend doesn’t play a part in our communication or lack thereof,” you said quickly and Bucky clicked his tongue.

“It definitely does.”

“I think what plays an important part in our communication is the fact that Bucky doesn’t exactly trust me.”

Bucky blinked a couple of times and turned to look at you better.

“I don’t think you should be pointing fingers here, Charm.”

“I do trust you!” you protested, making him scoff.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You know what, if you’re being like this because I didn’t give you one tiny little detail about my plan—”

“One tiny little detail?” Bucky repeated with a laugh. “Try the whole plan.”

“You wouldn’t even spare me a glance if I pulled the shit you did back in that back alley,” you finished your sentence as if he didn’t cut you off and that seemed to take him by surprise. He gawked at you, then licked his lips, shaking his head.

“Are you serious right now?”

“What happened in the back alley?” Dr. Raynor asked, her voice almost too calm and Bucky gritted his teeth, leaning back in the couch as if he was uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“It was ages ago,” he said curtly and you hummed.

“And you never apologized.”

“I did apologize—”

“Asking me if I’m still mad via text does not count as an apology, Bucky.”

“What happened?” Dr. Raynor asked and you took a deep breath, then crossed your arms.

“I had a silly little crush on Bucky years and years ago,” you said. “Before I left for college, I made the mistake of telling him about it.”

“Charm.”

“And it’d be fine if he only turned me down but nope,” you spat, that bitter taste burning your throat again. “He had to humiliate me.”

“I didn’t humiliate—”

“Yes you did,” you cut him off and he ran a hand over his face, then motioned at Dr. Raynor.

“Are we seriously going to do this in front of her?”

“Why not?” you said. “That’s what the therapy is for.”

“And you resent him for it, Y/N?” Dr. Raynor asked and Bucky scoffed a laugh.

“Oh she hates me for it,” he corrected her and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you, I’m just saying that if I didn’t trust you, it would be with a reason.”

“Right.”

“Was there a reason behind it, Bucky?”

“No there wasn’t, other than the fact that he wanted to humiliate me.”

“Charm.”

“Y/N, open communication is very important and a huge part of it is listening,” Dr. Raynor said, making you shake your head.

“No, he really didn’t have a reason other than the fact that he was the city’s golden prince who thought—”

“My father wanted us to end up together,” Bucky cut you off, making you pull your brows together in confusion and you turned your head to gawk at him.

“What?” you asked after a beat and Bucky clicked his tongue.

“Yeah,” he said. “He kept talking about how it would be good for the business, how I should visit you in Chicago when you’d leave for college and…all that bullshit.”

You blinked a couple of times in complete silence and Bucky bit inside his cheek.

“I mean obviously I didn’t see you that way back then, but I wouldn’t have been that much of an asshole to you if that was the only reason,” he told you, his voice almost inaudible. “I thought…I thought you were yet another cage he would drag me into, that’s it.”

You could barely hear anything from the way your heart was pounding in your ears and Bucky swallowed thickly, then stole a look at Dr. Raynor and took a deep breath.

“Yeah no, I’m not doing this shit in front of a stranger,” he muttered and got up from the couch as if he was too restless, then walked out of the office and slammed the door behind him. The sound snapped you out of your haze and you jumped on your feet, grabbing your purse.

“Thanks Dr. Raynor,” you said in a haste and walked out of the office as well but by the time you stepped outside, Bucky’s car had already driven off. You let out a breath, then leaned back to the wall on the building and rubbed at your eyes.

“Oh…” you murmured more to yourself. “Fuck.”

Chapter 35

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

i don't know if you do platonic yanderes , but I want to request how platonic yandere gambit would be with a darling

BLACK SHEEP.

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Remy LeBeau x Mutant! Reader. (Platonic Fic)

¿Request? Yes!

This is a Headcanon!

warnings ⸺ mdni! Dark themes, violence/death, blood, insolation, invasion of privacy, scars, delusion, Angst, ¿OOC Gambit? Idk, fights, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

sinopsis ⸺ Marked by a past of solitude and betrayal, his affection for you is a poisonous blend of devotion and control, always teetering on the edge between tenderness and obsession. For Remy, you are everything, his only family, and losing you would mean his ruin... so he will do whatever it takes to keep you by his side, even if it means locking you in a cage made of his possessive love.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish is—Thank you for placing the order! I really appreciate your trust and enthusiasm. Your support means a lot to me, and I’m excited to work on it. If you have any specific ideas or details you'd like to include, please feel free to let me know.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... actually knew who you were before you even exchanged a glance. Charles Xavier, Beast, and Logan talked about you often, in conversations filled with worry and caution. Your destructive powers had isolated you, and it was a tragic accident that took your parents' lives while they tried to protect you from yourself. That story resonated with him. A broken soul, chained to a gift that society did not understand nor could accept. Remy was always drawn to broken things; they were like pieces of a puzzle he needed to complete. The first time he saw you, hidden among the bushes in the garden, covered in dirt and fear, his heart beat faster. He knew that the moment he reached you, he would never let you go.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... was not intimidated by the hurtful words you threw at him, desperate attempts to make him leave, to protect him from you and what you were capable of. “Don’t touch me!” you shouted, with tears that dared not fall from your eyes. But he did not move. Instead, he smiled softly, that mischievous, almost playful smile that hid a dark depth that few could see. “Cher, Gambit isn’t going anywhere. You don’t scare me. In fact, I think you and I are more alike than you think.” The words sounded soft, almost hypnotic, as if they were designed to disarm you. And, little by little, they began to work.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... slipped into your life without you realizing, appearing in the most mundane moments, when you tried to find a bit of peace in the chaos of your existence. At first, he did it subtly: he listened as you lamented about your family and your life before your mutation, his jacket over your shoulders when the cold hit you, or staying with you in that corner. He made sure you saw him as someone trustworthy, someone who wouldn’t back away out of fear. But always, in the background, there was something more. A glimmer in his eyes that told you his presence was not merely accidental, that he was watching.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... used his story to soften you, to connect with you on that deeper level that always seemed inaccessible. He knew you were broken inside, hurt by the loss of your parents and consumed by fear of your own power, so little by little, he began to open up. He told you how he too had been an outsider, an orphaned boy raised on the streets of New Orleans. How he had been rejected even by those who took him in, feared for his own gift, a gift he could not control either. “Tu sais, I wasn’t always like this, chérie,” he would say with a melancholic smile, as his fingers played with a deck of cards. “Everything i am now is because Gambit had to learn to survive. In this world, if you don’t have anyone, you are nothing.” And with every story he shared, you felt the wall you had built begin to crack. Remy, with his soft words and warm gaze, was slowly digging into that shell you had fought so hard to maintain.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... made you feel less alone, but never in the way you desired. He knew when you were about to break, and there he was, holding you before you could fall. “You can’t get rid of me so easily, chérie,” he whispered as his hands found yours, strong but gentle. He made you feel safe, but there was something suffocating about his constant presence, something you could not name.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... began to take up more space in your life, even in your most painful moments. When your nightmares woke you up at night, sweaty and echoing with the explosions that never stopped resonating in your mind, he was there. You didn’t ask how he knew you were awake, nor why he was always so close. But his touch, his soft words, wrapped around you until the terror dissipated, only for another kind of unease to grow in its place. “You’re never going to be alone again, Gambit promise you,” he said, almost like a vow.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... started to make you doubt everything. When you tried to pull away, when you wanted to put distance between your destructive powers and those around you, he whispered in your ear: “No one else is going to understand you like I do, chérie. No one else can bear what you carry inside.” His words sank into you like sweet poison, until the idea of being without him began to seem more terrifying than the idea of destroying everything around you. Who else could face your power? Who else would keep loving you after everything you had lost?

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... carefully decided who you could associate with, selecting only those he considered “safe.” He encouraged you to get close to Jubilee, with her sparkling and carefree energy, because he knew that she posed no threat to his control. “Elle est bonne pour ti, chérie. She has a good heart,” he would say when you saw her, and little by little you convinced yourself that he just wanted what was best for you. Ororo was also welcome in your little circle; her calm, motherly nature made him feel that she was not a dangerous influence. And of course, Rogue was always nearby, though you could never shake the feeling of tension between her and Remy. He justified her presence by saying they were old friends, but there was something in the way he looked at her when you were around that made Rogue keep her distance, while Morph, Bobby, and others like them were completely off-limits.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... whispered words of comfort in your ear when your darkest memories suffocated you. “It wasn’t your fault, chérie. Your parents didn’t know what they were doing, but I did. I would never leave you.” And though those words should have eased you, there was something in his tone that made you feel trapped, as if there were no escape from the invisible cage he was building around you.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... didn’t want you to associate with people who could “corrupt” your view of the world. Bobby tried to talk to you once, casually, while you were in the kitchen. His easy smile and relaxed nature made you laugh, something that didn’t happen often. But it wasn’t long before Remy noticed. “What was he doing with you, huh?” His tone was as smooth as a knife's edge, his eyes burning with something you hadn’t seen before. “I don’t like you getting close to him.” And though you knew that wasn’t true, you felt the coldness of his control wrap around you. The situation exploded when Remy and Bobby ended up in a violent fight, sharp words and barely veiled threats exchanged until Jean and Scott had to separate them. You, however, saw him as a friend, someone who could help you forget for a while how dangerous you were. But over time, even Bobby began to avoid you, and the few friendships you had dwindled down to those Remy approved of.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... enjoyed the simple things with you, those that seemed harmless on the surface. He liked to take you to shopping malls, where he could walk beside you and make sure you felt safe, but always under his watchful eye. “Choose whatever you want, ma belle. Whatever it is, it’s yours.” He let you pick out clothes, books, little decorations for your room. But even in those moments, there was an underlying control. The options he offered you were carefully selected; he made you feel you had freedom, but it was always within the limits he set.

Yandere Remy LeBeau who... loved to see you smile, and one of his favorite ways to achieve that was by playing board games with you. He was charming, relaxed, and playful during those moments. “Allez, chérie, you’re going to have to try harder if you want to beat me,” he challenged you while a carefree laugh filled the room. Those were the moments that made you doubt, that made you think that maybe Remy just wanted what was best for you, that his closeness was a good thing. When you laughed, when for a second you forgot your destructive powers, he looked at you with devotion. But behind those crimson eyes, there was an insatiable hunger, a need for control.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... took his time decorating your room, making sure everything was to your liking, but always with his touch. “It’s important that you feel comfortable, mon coeur,” he would say as he placed a soft lamp by your bed or adjusted the curtains so that the light came in just as you liked it. But even here, there was a shadow of possession. The things he chose for you always reflected his own taste, his vision of who you should be. It was not just your space; it was a reflection of his influence over you.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... could not stand the idea of anyone else entering your intimate life. The thought of you falling in love with someone else filled him with a silent fury. “If you ever find someone,” he said in one of those moments where he seemed casual, almost brotherly, “it has to be someone Gambit approve of. Someone who will take care of you like I would. Not just anyone can be with you, chérie.” And even though he said it with a smile, there was something in his tone that chilled you. You couldn’t imagine Remy sharing that control with anyone else.

Yandere Remy LeBeau who... as time passed, that possibility grew even more distant. The few attempts you made to get close to someone were sabotaged before they could blossom. Remy made sure that any connection broke before it could grow strong. He would tell you it was for your safety, that your power made you too dangerous to be with anyone. “They can’t handle what you are, mon amour. But I can. I always will.”

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... hated it when you rebelled against his control, when you tried to challenge him and do things your way. The arguments began with soft words and gentle warnings, but soon intensified when you refused to obey. One night, you tried to go out alone to practice your powers, tired of feeling constantly watched. But before you could get too far, Remy intercepted you. His hand gripped your arm tightly, his eyes shining with a mix of fear and rage. “You’re not going out alone, chérie, not like this.” His grip was rougher than you expected from him, and you tried to break free, but it was in vain. “You don’t understand how dangerous it is. I won’t let you take that risk, I can’t.” His words were severe, his tone more dominant than usual. But when he saw you trembling, when he saw the fear and frustration in your eyes, his hardness faded, replaced by a desperate plea.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... immediately apologized after those episodes of harsh control. He hugged you tightly, his trembling hands, as if he feared you might disappear at any moment. “I’m sorry, ma belle,” he murmured against your hair, his voice filled with remorse. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but I can’t lose you. Not after all we’ve been through. You’re all I have.” In those moments, when his hardness crumbled and only a broken man remained inside, vulnerable to the fear of losing the only person who meant something to him, it was hard for you to push him away. His need for you, that connection that made you feel like you were his anchor, enveloped you, confusing you. Was it love? Was it protection? Or something much darker?

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... never let conversations about other guys last long. If he saw you interested, he subtly changed the subject or found a way to make you feel guilty for even thinking of opening up to someone else. “Personne ne te comprendra jamais comme je le fais.” His words became more intense over time, more definitive. The world outside, he told you, was too cruel, too fragile for you. But he, he was your refuge, the only constant.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... felt deeply affected the first time you went on a mission with the X-Men. He knew this day would come, but he wasn’t ready for the unbearable anxiety that invaded him. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I can’t help but worry,” he had told you before you left, with a carefree tone that hid how much he hated the idea of you exposing yourself to any danger. But when you returned, injured, all trace of his usual charm disappeared. His gaze burned with a fury and desperation you hadn’t seen before. “Merde, chérie! What did they do to you? Who did this to you?” He enveloped you in his arms protectively, almost suffocating, as his fingers traced the cuts and bruises on your skin. You could feel the tension in his body, as if he were on the verge of exploding.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... went mad when he saw you hurt, his mind filled with images of what could have happened if you hadn’t returned. “Je ne veux pas te perdre,” he said in a hoarse voice, almost inaudible, as he held you tightly. “You are my family. You have no idea what I would do if something happened to you.” There was something dark and disturbing in his words, in the intensity with which he held you close, but you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his desperation. It was as if, in his twisted and possessive love, Remy was capable of doing anything to keep you safe.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... did not allow his possessiveness to ruin the moments of tranquility you shared. On quiet nights, when you lay in bed, emotionally exhausted, he was there, sitting in a nearby chair, watching you with that mix of devotion and control. “Dors bien, ma belle. I’ll be here to take care of you.” And though those words should have comforted you, sometimes you felt as if those invisible walls he had built around you closed in a little more each night.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... always found a way to soften his behavior after moments like those. He took you to quiet places, away from the tensions of the mutant world, to strolls through the mall or parks where there was no immediate danger. He loved to see you laugh, as if that could erase any trace of the darkness that lay between you. “Look, ma chérie, this is how it should always be, right? No worries, no fears.” And in those moments, when it seemed like it was just you and him, you could forget, at least for a while, how invasive his presence had become.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... never let you forget that, for him, you were family. He constantly reminded you how alone he had been before meeting you, how you had filled a void in his life that no one else could fill. “I don’t know what I would do without you, ma chérie. If you ever drift away from me, if I lose you...” He never finished the sentence, but the weight of those words needed no ending. It was a warning, a reminder that his love for you was so intense that any possibility of losing you pushed him to the brink of despair.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... had a special way of softening his manipulations, of making you feel that everything he did was out of love, for your well-being. After a fight, he would always come back with a repentant smile, hugging you and telling you he never meant to hurt you. “Je suis désolé,” he whispered, with a tenderness in his voice that left you speechless. “But, mon coeur, you don’t understand. Gambit can’t live without you. You are my family, the only thing I have.” And though you knew there was something unhealthy in all of this, his words pierced deep into your heart. You had lost so much, and while his love was suffocating, it was also the closest you had to feeling loved.

Yandere! Remy LeBeau who... looked at you as if you were a broken work of art, one he was determined to rebuild, but only in his image. And, in his mind, he did it out of love.

A/N ─── I love you, Remy, you're divine, I don't care what anyone says. Now, I adore Remy, he's charismatic and handsome, what more can I say? I love writing in French. Although I’ve had some less pleasant experiences with the language and culture, in Remy's case, French sounds almost like a caress. It's part of his essence!

He has that irresistible charm that makes him stand out, not just for his looks but for his heart full of complexities. Who wouldn’t fall in love with someone who, despite living in the shadows, always tries to bring light to others?

If you have any problems knowing the meaning of a phrase in French, tell me in the comments and I will be happy to answer you.

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

take a bath!

[isavulpix]

Jason Todd Headcanons 2

Teacher!Reader x Jason Todd

1

Eyes Dont Lie Masterlist (Coming soon)

Warnings: My first language isn’t English so there will be errors, I haven’t read a comic beside the webtoon one so Jason may be a bit OOC sorry.

I want to say thank you to all of y’all for liking and rebloging 🥺 y’all are so lovely. I hope y’all like this night thoughts. Edit: I decided to make it a series so check it up if you like to, thanks for the likes and reblogs <3

isavulpix masterlist

• After y’all meet, Jason can’t have a normal day. You and your damn smile pop on his mind at random times. Which makes him have a small curve on the edge of his mouth, confusing Bruce. Why is he smiling as he talks about the obligatory attendance to the gala this week?

• He hates this because come on…he can’t be thinking about the pretty teacher…is too cliche. This isn’t a love story from Christina Luren. Plus he has better things to do than thinking about the pretty teacher who smile made his heart tremble…

• So he starts to do more things to distract himself of thinking about you, and maybe it did work a little too well. Now he is in Roy and Lian apartment along Dick and a room full of little gremlins.

• Roy asked him to help him in Lian birthday party. it was Bluey theme and Roy bought her the cutest Bingo outfit 🥺

• Jason didn’t have a problem helping him, plus he can’t wait for the gift opening time to come. He bought Lian the loudest and flashiest toy he could find just to annoy Roy.

• What he didn’t expect was that Lian beside inviting her classmates, she also invited you. Her teacher…the one that he totally isn’t thinking about night and day…He is also not thinking about how gorgeous you look at the moment. The outfit, the hair, accessories, all of it helps amplify your beauty, but Jason favorite aspect is the smile you wear.

• He isn’t nervous…he just has eaten like five cupcakes, three cookies and four juices that were for the kids while trying to avoid looking at you. He is lucky Dick and Roy are too occupied with Lian and the kids to read his behavior.

• But you do, like who wouldn’t notice the hot tall man? He was just your type, but you do raise an eyebrow confused, why is he sweating as he eats? Is not even hot in here. Plus isn’t supposed to be all over his daughter?

• Yeah, you read right, daughter. You think Roy and Jason are a couple. Why? Easy, Lian always talks about her dad, uncle Dick and “Jason”. All her drawings have one or two of them, tells stories about them.

• Dick somehow bribed Lian to call uncle Jay “Jason”, he hates it and is trying to bribe her into calling him uncle Jay again. Lian loves it since she is getting more sugar than what Roy let’s her.

• You don’t know anything about her mother and since she doesn’t look like Roy you think they adopted her or something. You aren’t to stuck your nose into what doesn’t concern you, plus you did heard some moms gossip that…but it doesn’t stop you from subtly ogling Jason. Why are the hot men always unavailable?

• So imagine Jason confused face when you offer to take a photo of the dads with Lian. Like dads? Like…multiple? And why do you say it while looking at him and Roy? Oh…OH NO WAIT….

• The hamster in Jason brain has stop working and Roy realize it, so why not have fun? Roy smile and pulls Jason into the family photo. A little payback for picking up Lian late and bribing her, y’all really think Lian who is a daddy’s girl, plus a 5 year old is capable of holding a secret?

• Jason hates the photo, he has his eyes slight wide in it, while Lian smiles and Roy has an arm around his shoulder. Roy also got that photo framed in Jason apartment knowing Jason can’t take it down without dealing with a pouting Lian. Because how he dares to take down a photo of them?

• Anyways, when he comes back to reality the small celebration is done and kids are being picked up by there parents and you where long gone. Roy and Dick laugh about what just happened and tease him. He mentally curses when he realizes he didn’t had the time to tell you he isn’t with Roy…

[caramelpenguin]

Felice mouths a 'thank you' at Sara over the choir teacher's shoulder as she closes the door. This should hopefully give them atleast ten minutes, and if Sara can stall her for longer, maybe twenty.

She turns back to face the choir, her hands firmly planted on her hips. Felice isn't even close friends with most of these students, but right now, that doesn’t matter. If they’re going to pull this off, she needs as many as she can on board. Clearing her throat, she eyes them all slowly, "Do you all remember the song Simon wrote? That we performed once and never sang again?"

The room erupts in murmurs and whispers.

"You mean the one based on the school anthem?"

"Yes! That one."

Someone snorts from the back. "The one that's not even subtly about Wilhelm?"

"Exactly." Felice squares her shoulders. "What do we think about singing that version on the last day instead of the original? As a way of surprising Simon?"

There’s a pause, followed by a sharp voice from the front row. A girl with neatly braided hair and a skeptical expression raises her brow. "And why would we do that? There’s no real reason."

Oh, Felice is ready for this. She counts off on her fingers, her words measured but pointed. "First, this might be our last performance as a choir. Wouldn’t we rather do something meaningful for ourselves than just the boring school version? Second, we've all seen the horrible crap Simon’s had to deal with recently- it's awful. It’s the least we can do to show him we’re on his side." She pauses, letting her words sink in before delivering the kicker. "And finally—his version is way better than the original. You all know it."

The murmurs in the room shift, tinged with curiosity and a few nods of agreement.

Then, from the back, a new voice cuts through. "Yes," Felix says, his cheeks lightly flushed. Felice has noticed him glancing at Simon during rehearsals, expression soft in a way he probably doesn’t think anyone else sees. "I think that's a great idea."

His endorsement cracks the ice. Someone in the second row murmurs, "I mean, it is better than the original."

Another chimes in, "And Simon would definitely love it."

"He's a good guy. Amazing voice, too."

Felice thinks of the way Wilhelm talks about Simon - this boy who treats him with gentle touches and loves him in a way that he deserves, like he’s something precious. She thinks of Simon as a brother to Sara, unwavering and loyal and someone who's stuck by ,who's dealt with the harsh blows. She thinks of Simon with his loud opinions at the start of the year, unafraid to challenge what he felt was wrong.

That’s why this matters. This isn’t just about the song. It’s about Simon. About reminding him that he’s seen and valued and that what he’s brought to this group has meant something.

Felice looks around the room at the hesitant faces, at the whispers still swirling among the group, and lets her determination harden.

“Listen,” she says, her voice firm, “this isn’t about whether or not we get in trouble. It’s about doing something that actually means something. For Simon. For us. If you don’t want to do it for him, fine. Do it because this choir deserves to go out on a high note. And because we’re capable of more than just doing what’s expected of us.”

No-one speaks up to argue. Slowly, the students begin to shuffle into position, the energy in the room shifting. Someone hums the first note, and the familiar melody builds—hesitant at first, then stronger, richer.

[xreaderwrites]

Grey Areas

Summary: Cheating Death is so much harder when she claws her way out of the dirt.

Tags: scheming, complex feelings, pining, Teen is Billy Maximoff, to be continued

Words: 1k+ | AO3

A/N: a story is a-brewing but the story must marinate…gestate even

A hand bursts from the ground and you shove Billy between yourself and Agatha. He doesn’t protest, his eyes stuck  on the woman clawing her way out of the dirt as he yells about reanimation.

It’s worse. Instead of the spell going horribly wrong it’s gone horribly right, with the best Green Witch they could have possibly gotten. Death herself.

You swallow harshly and pull Teen back with you (and he is Teen now. No other name shall be uttered with Death so close). He’s in such a grey area that both sides can be made. He was never technically alive, not in the way the people Death take are, so him coming back doesn’t break any rules and yet it is his soul that is here on this plane, something she very much deals with. 

Both sides can be made but you are much weaker than she is. You won’t stand a chance.

Agatha screaming and clawing for Death sends your stomach plummeting. It’s good that they won’t be teaming up against you together, your chances of success in that situation are so infinitesimally small, but now you’re fighting on three fronts.

This isn’t the first time you’ve regretted Teen finding your work but this is the first time you’ve hated yourself for it. To have him die so young during his second chance of life…Wanda will never forgive you. In this life or the next.

Agatha storms off and it isn’t long before Rio skips after her.

Teen calling your name makes you realise how harshly you’re clinging to him.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly.

Your gaze stays firmly locked on the two witches ahead. Rio sends you a knowing smile mid-twirl. 

It makes you sick. Instead of bringing Wanda back, you’ll be protecting the boy she lost her mind trying to save.

“I’m fine,” you give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze and, ignoring the looks the other three are giving you, you follow Rio up the Witches Road.

Jen and Alice start up behind you and what would’ve been a fun conversation about liking scary women is made easy to ignore with Teen beside you.

“Do you know her?” he asks cautiously. 

He knows how touchy you can be with your past. You have to push the guilt away to concentrate on the question. You’ve to be so careful with everything you say for so long one would think it would be easier by now.

“I know of her, yes,” you allow. “She’s extremely powerful. A good catch for the Road.”

“But?” Teen pushes.

“But…” how to put it, “Her connections to others can be weak, or at least slow to build. Not a quality you want when facing the trials.” Your eyes slide to Agatha, “But that isn’t exactly a new danger. We couldn’t trust Sharon to get us out of a bind, either.”

A frown creases Teen’s face.

“But she was so nice.”

You cast him a long look. Does he really not know she wasn’t a witch? It’s so hard to tell.

“She was incredibly weak, power-wise, and her knowledge was extremely limited. We couldn’t trust her to help us because she wouldn’t have been able to. It’s nothing against her.”

This seems to ease him as his body relaxes and his usual smile begins to poke through, dampened by seeing death so closely. 

It’s your turn to frown. You wish you had known him before the sigil. Then you’d be able to know how much of his naivety is real. He’s a sixteen year old witch and he broke his mother’s curse. That isn’t a small thing. He shouldn’t be this powerful and yet have so little knowledge of what the world is capable of.

You don’t even know what he’s looking for at the end of the Road.

Your frown deepens as you watch Rio shadow Agatha.

It’s no use telling Teen to keep his distance. He’s been glued to Agatha’s side and Rio seems intent on subtly doing the same. Not to mention being on the Road means distance from one another is deadly. This whole situation is frustrating to say the least. But what were you really expecting when traversing the Witches Road?

He gives you a look and you manage to nod your head without rolling your eyes. He scampers ahead to Agatha’s side.

Rio was a few step behind her but she allows a gap to grow as Teen passes her.

You sigh to yourself and catch up to Rio. Matching her pace, you allow the distance between you and Teen to grow before speaking. 

“Interested in a trade?” you ask her. 

Her sharp grin has the hair on your arms rising.

“Do you have anything interesting?”

No, that’s why you’re on the road. It’s too late to offer a life for a life and Wanda would never forgive you if you went to the lengths needed to bring her back whole. Lengths that have only ever been rumoured.

You ask the question anyway to get to the one you want to ask most.

“My life?”

“You know the rules.”

“Yes, but if something much more…powerful than myself attempted to bring her back, would you stop it?”

Her calculating gaze is more terrifying than her crazy grin.

“The Road gives you what you’re missing,” is her only response.

It’s not the straight answer you were hoping for but it’s also not a yes. Which means your plan isn’t completely fucked. 

“While I have you here,” you say before she flutters off back into Agatha’s orbit, “I would like to make it very clear that any delusions I had of revenge or…roadblocks regarding Agatha have been thoroughly discarded with your arrival.”

Rio flashes a smile that is pure threat. 

“Smart girl.”

It’s easy to ignore the effect she has on you when are currently so aware that the threat extends to Wanda too.

You also want to tell Death about Wanda not being a threat to Agatha but you can’t. It may be true now, but who knows what will happen to Teen between now and when you see her? Your best will mean nothing to the Road. Your life probably will too.

[pascaloverx]

DEVIL (+18)

Summary: You are a demonic creature, capable of doing whatever you please, whenever you wish. Your goal on Earth is to terrorize as many souls as possible. Until, in a small community, you find the perfect victim for your mischievous games: Father Charlie Mayhew.

Author's Note: Honestly, I’m not sure if this story will have more than one chapter, but it will contain adult content and inappropriate language. Violence may also appear. Frankly, I just needed to write something about this character portrayed by Nicholas Alexander Chavez. The character and others, apart from Y/N, are not my creation. They belong to the Grotesquerie (2024) universe created by Ryan Murphy. To anyone reading this story, I hope you enjoy it.

ONE THREE

TWO

The man knelt before you, pleading for more time. He tried to bargain, claiming he was on the verge of creating a scheme that would corrupt countless souls for you.

"My dear, don’t waste your breath. Our pact was sealed long ago; I used you for the purposes I desired, and now Satan wants your soul. It’s quite simple—it won’t even hurt. It was pleasurable while it lasted, wasn’t it? I gave you every sinful delight imaginable. Now, it’s time to pay the price," you murmur as you crouch down to speak face to face. The man, now sobbing, desperate to avoid death, shakily points a gun at you. His hand trembles as he aims it at your face, and you can’t help but find it almost endearing that he’s so determined to live.

"It wasn’t going to hurt. I wasn’t planning to harm you—I was going to leave that to the demon in charge of your soul down in Hell. But you’ve just lost that privilege," you say, your voice calm as the man frantically throws objects at you, screaming for help. And then you touch him and immediately he catches fire. The flames cover his entire body, as he agonizes and screams in pain, almost roaring for help. When you get bored of seeing a man like that, you touch him again; and it's as if he had never been burned.

"What have you done to me, you demon?" he yells, charging at you like a raging bull, which only makes you laugh.

"I gave you a little preview of your future, darling. Now, brace yourself for your next adventure." You mockingly reply, and before he can reach you, you make him vanish, sending him to his rightful place. Being a demon certainly has its ups and downs, but truthfully, you're growing weary of it all.

Perhaps it’s a good time to visit your favorite priest for confession. It's been a week since you last made contact. You slip into a red lace lingerie set and throw a black coat over it. Naturally, you can’t forget your rosary—it’s essential for keeping appearances. With a final touch, you teleport to Father Charlie Mayhew’s location.

You appear in his room, where he’s half-naked, engaging in self-flagellation while reciting scripture. "Ephesians 6:11: 'Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes,'” he says, inflicting pain upon himself, still unaware of your presence. His back was covered in cut marks, bleeding everywhere, his eyes closed as he felt the pain rack his flesh.

“Father Mayhew, need some help? There are parts of your back that remain untouched,” you say, catching him off guard. Leaning casually against a piece of furniture near a crucifix on the wall, you smile wickedly as he jumps in shock. The towel wrapped around him nearly slips, the only thing keeping him covered. Your eyes glint with amusement, knowing you’ve disrupted his supposed sanctity once again.

"Are you really here?" Father Mayhew asks, standing up, now nearly face to face with you. His gaze is intense, as though he had been thinking about you long before you appeared in his room. You move around the room slowly, admiring the details, your movements deliberate as you subtly encircle him, using your body language to create a sense of dominance. His eyes follow your every step, conflicted between fear and desire.

"How could I not be here, my dear Father, when you bring me such satisfaction?" you say, your voice laced with dark amusement. "I’ve heard you’ve kept your sinful habits, wishing only for my return. I believe you’ve earned a reward." Your fingers lightly trace over the fresh wounds on his back, sending shivers through him, eliciting a soft groan from his lips. His eyes stay locked on yours as you slowly remove your coat, revealing the red lace lingerie beneath, a sinful gift crafted solely for his eyes. His breath hitches as he takes in the sight, the temptation too powerful to resist, his internal conflict laid bare in the silence between you.

"Galatians 5:16: 'So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh,'” Father Mayhew murmurs, moving closer to you, his eyes fixed on your chest, tracing every curve and detail of your body. If you weren’t a demon, his gaze might have made you feel shy.

“I’m usually the one who hears confessions, but I must confess to you... I longed to see you again, with a fervor far beyond what is permitted,” he whispers, his voice barely audible as he stands mere inches from your face, as if yearning for a kiss, the tension between you palpable. You regard him with playful amusement, as if he were your favorite source of entertainment.

"Confess to me, Father. Show me what you desire, and prove what you're capable of," you say, your voice laced with a subtle challenge as your fingers brush against his chest. He inhales sharply at your touch, his eyes reflecting the battle between restraint and temptation. The air between you is thick with tension, and despite his struggle, you sense the pull of his desires growing stronger.

The priest kneels before you, gazing up as though seeking your blessing for survival. "Forgive me, in all Your glory, Lord. For I am devoted to You and should turn away from sinful desires, striving to be a good man," he says, yet his eyes remain fixed on you, laden with a sinful intensity. It’s as though his words are meant for God, but his confession is entirely yours. The feeling of power surges through you. Your hands glide over his face, which now seems to exude a wickedly sinful allure. Your fingers lightly trace his full lips, the touch both tender and commanding.

"You must be devoted to me as well. Embrace your darker side, Father. Do not hide it behind your robes. Accept who you truly are," you whisper, your hand gliding along his neck as his head tilts back, eyes wide and fixed on you.

"And who am I, demon?" Father Mayhew asks, his voice trembling slightly, as if he genuinely seeks the answer. His gaze is locked on you, watching intently as you kneel before him, the tension between his devotion and his desire thick in the air.

"You are mine. You belong to me—not only your body, but your soul as well. Punish yourself as much as you wish, but never forget, it is I whom you must worship and fear," you whisper softly, standing before him, your presence enveloping him. The weight of your words lingers in the air, both a command and a promise, as his gaze remains locked on yours, torn between submission and resistance.

"For the love of God, you are the most tempting creature I have ever encountered. How am I to remain pure in your presence?" Father Mayhew exclaims, his voice filled with helplessness as he gazes at you, nearly unraveling before you.

"Father, you're taking the Lord's name in vain... what a naughty boy," you respond with a playful laugh, lowering yourself slightly to kiss his neck. His body shudders under your touch, a wave of tension and desire sweeping through him as your lips brush his skin. Then his fingers trail down to the underside of your lingerie. You lift yourself up a little to help him touch your pussy over your lingerie, biting your lip when you feel his cold fingers touch there. It doesn't take long for him to tear the fabric and finally massage your wet pussy, making you moan softly. His fingers touching you, gently massaging your clit as you touch his strong arms, encouraging him to continue fingering you.

"Say that you are mine as well, demon. Tell me that you are under the spell of what I do to you. Beg me for forgiveness," Father Mayhew demands, his voice taking on a more assertive tone, as if he wishes for you to confess your own sinful desire.

You move toward him, pulling him close, and without hesitation, your lips meet his in a heated kiss. It’s a battle of passion, a wordless exchange of defiance and submission. Neither of you yields, tongues entwining in a struggle for dominance, each unwilling to surrender to the other.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," you moan against his lips, the words flowing like a dark and twisted prayer, as if reciting a beautiful, forbidden verse.

"I forgive you..." he murmurs, his voice thick with desire as his lips crash against yours in a heated, desperate kiss. It's as if he needs the taste of you more than he needs to breathe, each movement of his mouth against yours betraying the battle within him, torn between what he knows is wrong and the temptation he can no longer resist. His hands caress your body, stopping at your thighs, and as he grabs them, you open your legs so he can penetrate you.

"Father Mayhew, are you there?" A woman's voice calls from outside, her knock firm against the door. You and Father Mayhew lock eyes, both silently exchanging glances that hold the weight of unspoken words. He knows your nature, the dangerous allure you carry, and in this moment, he acts on instinct. As he tries to compose himself, he quickly places his hand over your mouth, silencing any response that might expose you both. His expression is tense, a silent plea for discretion, as the tension in the room grows thick.

"Yes, Sister Megan. Do you need something? I'm just finishing getting ready," Father Mayhew calls out, his voice steady despite the situation. He glances at you, a flicker of anticipation in his eyes. It’s clear that, though he might never openly admit it, he's waiting for whatever mischief you might stir. He craves it—your demonic influence, your unpredictable nature—and the subtle tension in the air reveals that he is far more enticed by the chaos you bring than he dares to acknowledge. You then use one hand to masturbate Father Mayhew, who moans in response to the sensation of your hand touching his cock, which is already covered in pre-cum. Your fingers running the length of Father Mayhew's cock as he closes his eyes feeling you touch him.

"I would love your opinion on an article I'm considering publishing. It's quite intriguing, I must admit. It discusses some recent murders that are likely related to the church. I thought we could discuss it over a meal," Sister Megan says, her enthusiasm palpable. Father Mayhew shuts his eyes tightly, his hand still covering your mouth as he stifles a few muffled groans. The tension in the room is thick, a stark contrast to Sister Megan’s casual demeanor, as he struggles to regain his composure, caught between his duty and the forbidden thrill of your presence.

"Wait for me at the church entrance... I will, I will be there in a few minu...tes, now please allow me to dress in silence," he stammers, urgency lacing his voice as he attempts to gather himself. His eyes flicker to yours, a mix of desire and desperation evident as he fights to maintain his composure while you continue to captivate him. Your hand closed around the contour of his cock, moving back and forth, sometimes touching the head of his cock. He is on the verge of cumming, one hand under your mouth, the other under your breast, squeezing your breast, causing you a pleasurable sensation.

"I'll be waiting for you, Father," Sister Megan says before leaving, her footsteps echoing in the silence. You couldn’t care less about her departure. The tension in the room escalates as you release your grip on him, locking eyes with the Padre. He removes his hand from your lips, frustration etched across his features.

"Why did you stop?" Father Mayhew asks, a sultry grunt escaping his lips, revealing his longing for your sweet touch. His gaze searches for you, desperate and yearning, as he grapples with the overwhelming desire you stir within him. The air crackles with unspoken words, the thrill of the forbidden intensifying the moment.

"Next time, give me more importance. Your attention must be entirely mine, just like your devotion, but right now, neither belongs to me. I'm sure you can call Sister Megan in here to assist you if you wish. Until our next encounter," you say, your tone tinged with irritation as you reprimand him with a piercing gaze.

As he reaches out to touch your face, murmuring a soft, "I'm sorry," it’s too late. You vanish into thin air once again, leaving him frustrated and uncertain, haunted by the question of whether you will truly return. The echo of your presence lingers in the room, a reminder of the intoxicating temptation he now craves.

[shizuturnspages]

Yandere Sumeru boys headcannons

Alhaitham

❥ Alhaitham is a logical, rational asshole. But that’s exactly what makes him a terrifying yandere. He doesn’t go for the crazed, irrational shit. No, he's cold, clinical, and he will plan every damn move like he’s playing fucking chess with your life. You're a puzzle he has to solve, and the solution? Oh, it's him. Always. No fucking escape.

❥ In Alhaitham's mind, once he's figured you out, that’s it. No one else deserves to even fucking look at you. His understanding of you is so complete that it becomes his sole justification for controlling every aspect of your life. He knows what’s best for you, even better than you do. He will cut off your ties to others in subtle ways, leaving you wondering how the hell you became so isolated. Oh, it was him, sweetheart.

❥ This dude’s not gonna stab someone in broad daylight like some psycho—he’s a fucking genius. He’ll use your own thoughts against you. He’ll subtly gaslight you into believing no one else is as capable of understanding you like he does. You’ll start to think maybe he’s the only one who truly gets you, and by the time you realise what’s happening, it's too late. You’re trapped in his web.

❥ Alhaitham would be the kind of yandere who sabotages your other relationships without you even knowing it. Oh, your friend suddenly moved away? Strange. That one guy who liked you stopped talking to you out of nowhere? Weird, huh? He’ll always be there to comfort you, his stoic mask hiding the fact that he's orchestrating every single one of your problems just so he can fix them.

❥ Alhaitham’s biggest strength as a yandere is his ability to keep his shit together. You’ll never see him snap, never see him lose his cool. But the second you try to leave him? Fucking hell breaks loose. He’ll track you down using logic and strategy like you’re nothing but a lost book in his library. And when he finds you? Oh, he’ll make sure you never even think about running again.

Cyno

❥ Cyno is all about justice. Well, that translates to some next-level protection for you. But not the cute kind. We're talking "anyone who looks at you wrong is gonna fucking disappear" kind of protection. He’ll see himself as your personal guardian, and no one—and I mean no one—gets to mess with you. He doesn’t care if you think it’s creepy; he knows what's best. Fuck your opinion.

❥ This guy’s got a black-and-white sense of right and wrong, and guess what? You’re always right in his eyes. But everyone else? They’re a threat. He’ll punish anyone who comes near you, ‘cause in his twisted sense of justice, they’re infringing on what’s his. He’ll never let you out of his sight because that would be “irresponsible” on his part. Yeah, he’s doing it for your “safety,” but really, it's all about keeping you locked down.

❥ Cyno is fiercely loyal, and as a yandere, this loyalty becomes suffocating as fuck. He doesn’t know how to do things halfway. You are his, and that’s not up for debate. You don’t get to leave, you don’t get to argue. He’ll follow you everywhere, even if you don’t want him to, always showing up like some shadow you can never fucking shake. And trust me, he won’t tolerate anyone trying to come between you two. That’s a death sentence.

❥ Oh, he loves his jokes, right? Well, as a yandere, he’ll still joke, but those jokes come with a deadly edge. You piss him off? He’ll laugh it off with some dark humor, but you can feel the unspoken threat in every word. And if someone other than him crosses you? Cyno’s “justice” is swift, brutal, and final. There’s no trial, no second chance—just his fucked up sense of justice.

❥ Cyno’s got that chill, deadpan vibe most of the time, but holy shit, when he cares about something—or someone—he becomes intense as fuck. If you ever tried to leave or betray him, that calm exterior would fucking crack. He’d hunt you down like he’s enforcing divine judgment, and there’s no place you could hide. His cold, calculated demeanor makes him even more dangerous because you’ll never see that rage coming until it’s too fucking late.

Tighnari

❥ Tighnari’s a fucking genius when it comes to the wilderness. You think you can run from him? Oh, hell no. He’ll use the forest itself to keep you in line. Poisonous plants? Deadly traps? Oh, he’s got all that shit covered. He’s not gonna let you leave his side, and if you try, well… let’s just say the forest has a funny way of making people disappear.

❥ Tighnari’s soft-spoken and gentle on the surface, right? But underneath that shit is a fucking possessive streak you won’t believe. He’s always making sure you’re “okay,” and by okay, he means under his control. He’ll play the caring, concerned partner, using his knowledge of herbs and remedies to keep you close, always “healing” you when you don’t even realise you’re being fucking poisoned. Yeah, he’s got that soft look, but it hides something twisted.

❥ Tighnari’s a smart fucker, no doubt about that. He’ll use his intelligence to gaslight the hell out of you. Oh, you think those berries made you sick? Nah, you’re just paranoid. He’ll make you second-guess every fucking thing, twisting your reality until you can’t even trust your own instincts. He’ll be your only reliable source of “truth,” and by then, he’s got you trapped—mentally and physically.

❥ Tighnari’s got a bond with the forest, so you’re basically under its watchful eye too. He’ll set up barriers—physical and psychological—using his connection to nature to always know where you are. The animals? They’re his spies. You try to run? He’ll know before you even take a damn step. And when he catches you? Oh, he’ll smile that gentle smile, reminding you that there’s no place you can hide from him in his territory.

❥ As a caretaker, Tighnari will spoil you, but it comes with a price. He’ll shower you with attention, making sure you’re always “healthy” and “happy,” but his version of care is suffocating as fuck. He’ll control your meals, your sleep, even your thoughts, all under the guise of concern. You wanna leave? Nah, he’ll convince you that the outside world is too dangerous, and only he can keep you safe.

Kaveh

❥ Kaveh’s a sensitive soul. Well, as a yandere, he’s all over the place emotionally. One minute he’s showering you with affection, and the next? Oh, he’s guilt-tripping the hell out of you. You’re his muse, his reason for living, but if you so much as look at someone else? Boom—he’s spiraling into jealous rants, throwing himself into emotional breakdowns that leave you feeling like you’re responsible for his sanity.

❥ Kaveh’s creative mind would turn his obsession into something artistic, but it’s got a creepy edge. He’ll draw, paint, and sculpt you over and over again, but it’s not flattering—it’s fucking eerie. His art becomes a shrine to you, and he’ll get pissed if you don’t appreciate it the way he expects. And God forbid you question why every piece makes you look like you’re trapped. Oh, he’ll say you “just don’t get the meaning.”

❥ Kaveh’s not the type to outright control you at first; no, he’ll do it through passive-aggressive manipulation. He’ll guilt-trip you into staying by his side, making you feel like if you leave, you’re abandoning him in his time of need. He’ll make you feel like he needs you more than you need him, and before you know it, you’re stuck in this cycle of constantly trying to make him feel better while he wraps his twisted little vines around your life.

❥ Kaveh’s been broke before. So now that he’s got his shit together, he’ll use that financial stability as a way to control you. He’ll act like he’s helping you out, offering to take care of your needs, but it’s all part of his fucking plan to make you dependent on him. The more you rely on him, the more he’ll tighten his grip, using guilt and money as tools to bind you. And if you try to break free? He’ll remind you how much he’s done for you.

❥ Kaveh’s the type who’d make everything symbolic. Every moment, every gift, every glance—he’ll attach deep, emotional meanings to shit you don’t even think about. He’ll remember every little detail about your life, and if you ever try to leave, he’ll throw it all back in your face. “How could you forget that time we shared [random moment]?” He’ll weaponize memories, making you feel like leaving him would be the ultimate betrayal.

[grandline-fics]

Hi! Liquid Courage introduced me to your work and I love the way you write so I thought I should trust you with a request of mine:)

Law x reader; in one point in time one of them subtly confessed but the feeling seemed to be unrequited They both are pining for each other, both have a sweet spot for each other and a connection beyond friendship but both just turn a blind eye to it/not think too much about it. One night after drinking a bit much Law(or reader) starts getting a little touchy but not in a sexual way. (ex. they are sitting next to each other and he slowly hooks his pinky with hers) The touches convey untold truths that are still felt the next morning. After that the touches and the longing stares continue until one of them breakes by the intensity of the moment and decide to confront the other.

I will leave the fate (and the nature) of said moment up to you. Thank you in advance for considering it! Cant wait to read more of your work<3

ps if it helps you in any way in my mind this is kinda angsty. I love angst+possessiveness but I don’t mind how it will come out for you! Really I don’t t mind if you switch up the whole scenario… whatever works for you

If you’re inspired by music, these two play in my mind: All i need- Radiohead + Just pretend- Bad Omens

DESCRIPTION: You’re both silently in love and finally decide to confront your feelings

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, brief angst at fear of unrequited feelings, mostly fluff

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 1,591

A/N: Thank you so much for this request. I hope I was able to create something that matched what you were looking for and that it's to your liking.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

From the day you joined the crew Law knew you were someone different. You had a presence he relaxed around a lot faster than others he’d encountered in his travels. You managed to gain his trust and proved yourself a capable and crucial member of the team and situated into the crew to the point no one could really remember a time before you. It felt effortless to be around you and Law counted you amongst one of his most trusted and closest friends. And for the longest time friends was all he considered you to be. Whether through a mix of sheer obliviousness and professional refusal to indulge his feelings any further than that. The line was clearly established that you two were just friends. 

However the heart wants what it wants and emotion is very separate to logic. Despite you both maintaining a friendship as deep as they came, your bodies still sought each other out. When it came to chores you were always close by. If not side by side you where always in the same room. When he was working on medical tasks you were his second, working in silent tandem with your own set rhythm that no others could match if they tried. While it annoyed the crew to no end why nothing deeper ever happened between you both, they decided to say nothing out of fear that if they did point out the obvious connection then that flow and peace between you both would shatter and be destroyed. 

One evening the entire crew were in the communal area celebrating Bepo’s birthday with a lot of drink and laughter. You called it quits after a round of a drinking game was finished and moved cautiously to the closest sofa for safety, knowing that you were less than graceful when you’d been drinking and the last thing you wanted was to injure yourself and disrupt the festivities. Law smiled down at you as you slumped into the space beside him, resting your head lazily on his shoulder. While he hadn’t been actively playing with the game he had been steadily drinking and was at the same level you were. “Sure you didn’t want to play to the end?” He asked curiously.

“Nah, another round and I’d have been passed out.” You mumbled, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. A slow content smile spreading across your lips when Law also moved to accommodate you, his hand curving around your waist so you slotted better against him. Neither of you paying much mind to the position from both the alcohol in your systems and the natural feeling that overcame you both to be seated like this. As you both continued to watch and laugh at the antics of the crew who were still conscious and playing their game, your hand rested over his, your fingers absently looping around his. 

Occasionally through the remainder of the night Law would subconsciously play with your fingers that were looped through his, he only became aware that he was doing it when it was finally time to go to bed. When your hands parted and you reluctantly shifted your weight off of him to stand you both became acutely aware of the lingering sensation of each other’s warmth and touch still clinging to your skin. The walk to your own room was a hazy blink but as you settled into your bed, you couldn’t help but touch your hand, doing all you could to memorise the feeling of his touch as you fell asleep. 

The next morning you woke feeling a strange kind of weight on your shoulders and mind that had nothing to do with all that you’d drank the previous night. It was a good thing you knew your limits with alcohol so you could wake relatively hangover free, still a little stiff and dehydrated but nothing that would leave you bedridden all day. No this feeling was the awareness of how you felt with Law and being in his presence brought you. The more you thought about it the more you saw that you’d felt this way for the longest time, you just hadn’t truly brought it to the forefront of your attention before. 

You got out of bed and readied yourself for a new day, grateful that it would be a day of minimal tasks and filled with a lot of free time given how heavily the crew had been drinking for Bepo’s

birthday which meant you had the time to organise your feelings and adequately deal with things between you and your Captain. You were also grateful that the abundance of hungover crew meant you would have extra privacy in case things weren’t resolved amicably. You walked down the corridor and stopped outside of Law’s office. Regardless of the previous night’s party he was always here first thing in the morning without fail. As always you knocked once out of courtesy and entered, closing the door firmly behind you. When you met his gaze you felt yourself freeze. You could see the realisation and hesitation you were feeling mirrored in his eyes. As comforting as that should have been you still couldn’t bring yourself to move closer or speak. 

“About last night.” “We should talk.” You both spoke in unison, a hurried mess coming from both of your mouths as opposed to your usual calm and relaxed way of speaking around the other. You fidgeted where you stood and gestured for him to speak first while clearing your throat. Law watched you carefully and let out a long sigh, noting how tense you stood and how you kept looking into his eyes and dropping your gaze again only to repeat the action less than a second later. Were you only trying to maintain eye-contact with him out of respect but failed to do so because of shame? Was it regret? He knew how he felt but the last thing he wanted was to force something on you. “Last night I overstepped the mark. Yes we’d been drinking but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Oh…” You were taken by surprise by his somewhat stilted declaration. Had you misread things? You hadn’t thought so. Now you were even more confused and found disappointment spinning in your stomach, the feeling only furthering your awareness that you had genuine feelings for Law. You weren’t known to be insubordinate but today you felt like pushing things because his statement truly didn’t seem like the man you thought you knew. “Captain, you held my hand and I returned the gesture. That’s not overstepping the mark. That’s barely walking in the mark’s direction… Do you regret doing it?” As you spoke you couldn’t help but run your thumb over your fingers that had been in his hold mere hours ago. “Because I don’t.”

“Regardless…It’s unwise to further this topic.” Law tried to sound firm but he was honestly thrown, he hadn’t been expecting you to feel the same as he did but he’d spent all last night and this morning trying to convince himself his feelings were one-sided and that it was fine that way because he shouldn’t pursue a relationship with a member of his crew. He wasn’t one to get his hopes up and at the same time he was also one to deny himself of something that made him happy to prevent the pain of losing it in the future. “We would be better to leave things as they are before they escalate.”

“Does that mean you want things to escalate?” You asked coyly finally taking a step towards the desk he sat at. 

“It wouldn’t be right for me to start something with my subordinate.” Law offered the argument, not able to give much weight to his words as he openly watched you approach, giving no inclination for you to stop or to leave. You both knew that had he wanted you out of his presence he would have either ordered you away or used his Devil Fruit to accomplish the task himself. 

“Captain, we’re pirates. What’s right and wrong and rules don’t exactly apply to us. Do they?” You asked simply, keeping the desk separating you both to allow him his personal space as you smiled at him. “All that matters is what we want. I’ve been honest, will you be honest with me, Captain?”  

Law stood and braced his hands on the desk, beginning to close the distance between you both. You’d made convincing points and deep down he hadn’t wanted to find a way to argue against them, not when it came to you and the feelings he’d finally accepted to himself that had been there for a very long time. “Are you sure about this?” He asked, offering you one final chance to take it back because he knew once this started he wasn’t going to let you go. Your answer was a simple one, you leant in with a smile and curled your fingers around his that were braced against the surface of the desk. The wordless but deep connection you had with each other was reestablished and cemented even further as you leant in, able to share a soft and tender kiss with your Captain. However the moment couldn’t be savoured for long because within seconds the chorus of calls echoed through the Polar Tang as the rest of the crew had awoken and were suffering their hangovers and calling for their Captain to help them cure it.