#because I love the idea of being so fond of someone that you feel comfortable enough to use your native tongue

[dramaticallytotal]

The Rise of Team E-Scope Headcanons: Part Eight

Idea Post Part One Last Part

I am skipping the aftermath episodes, but I might do them as a bonus after I finish the finale headcanons.

Slap Slap Revolution:

• Since Team Chris won the last challenge, they are not there in economy class to hear DJ lament about his animal curse, but Team Amazon is. This is where Eva gets worried for DJ and his mental health because the poor boy is distraught. Leshawna did nothing but tell him it was in his head, and it had Eva scowling. She believed it, too, but being friends with Noah, someone whose anxiety could get really bad, she knew it wasn't really helpful to point out the thoughts or beliefs were in their head.

Then she rolled her eyes when he tried to tell her it's wasn't that easy. It had Eva grinding her teeth. It was so disrespectful! Noah's sister, Nadia, was pretty superstitious, but no one in the family made fun of her for it and tried to respect her needs. Eva learned not to be so blunt with her thoughts because of Nadia, and she honestly really loved the woman and her kids.

• Apparently, Bridgette didn't appreciate Leshawna's response either as the girl huffed. "It's not that easy, Leshawna." Now, Eva wasn't very fond of Bridgette, but she appreciated the girl speaking up.

That got Leshawna even more annoyed, and it ended with Bridgette offering to give DJ a tarot reading to maybe help ease his mind, which he appreciated.

• Lindsay would have said something, but her, Katie, and Sadie were making the economy class people some smoothies. Katie even mentioned she would add some protein for Eva.

So it fell to Eva to be on Cody duty, not that she minded. So she had Cody sitting with her and listened to him ramble about some game he and Noah were obsessed with.

Thankfully, Sierra was distracted by Heather, but Eva still had a bad feeling about all that.

• Sierra was still talking about how she became president of her 15th Toal Drama fan club. She also still showed her statistics, which is something she's actually really good at. But instead of the statistics of Team Chris, she pulled out statistics for every team.

• Cody was just happy because Sierra couldn't get close to him, and Team Chris shared the insane amount of candy they got from the last challenge.

• Trent and Justin were the ones who were relaxing on the seat and having some bon bons. Justin didn't indulge in sweets much because of his strict diet, but first class had sugar-free ones and took advantage of the opportunity. Plus, Trent and Owen kept telling him his model diet wasn't the best for him, and technically, he wasn't under contract at the moment so he could indulge here and there.

Noah may not like the guy, but he some of his sisters and cousins had some problems with food for a while, so he knew how hard it could be to allow yourself the simple pleasure of something you crave.

So he made Justin a meal schedule to help him out with it. He would have cheat days or days where he tried something equally healthy but not on his meal plan his agent had him on so he could have some variety.

He got an almost kiss on his cheeks for his efforts, and Justin got a book to his stomach for his.

• Izzy was taking a nap, which was rare, which was why Owen was at the bar having a charcuterie board to himself. He made Noah a plate and pointedly looked at his little buddy until he started picking at it.

• Noah and Alejandro were on a couch sharing the mini charcuterie board Owen made for Noah as they discussed books they both have read and enjoyed. This is all part of Alejandro's plans to get closer to Noah and be his friend. To sus out Team E-Scope, of course! No other reason! He definitely didn't find Noah's company fun and comforting at all!

• Then being dropped from the plane was a stunt but also real as they were actually dropped a short distance into the snow. They were supposed to have their jackets on before they were dropped, but the interns forgot, and Chris is pissed about it. Apparently, it wasn't as accidental or forgetful as they claimed as Chef found out from one of the interns who had been close with Noah that the producers contacted an inside source and had them "forget" the jackets as people liked seeing people in distress.

• Alejandro still caught Leshawna.

• Noah would like to nominate Lindsay for an award with her acting because holy shit! "You must have me confused with someone else. The only guy I was ever into on this show was Tyler. And he's never coming back!"

• Also, he would like to simply cease to exist! Falling into the snow that deep was so awful. Snow got under his shirts and in his pants, thankfully not too far into his shoes, but it was still unpleasant. He was already shivering by the time Eva pulled him out and squished him between Izzy, Owen, and herself.

• But Izzy is an agent of chaos, and after cuddling a little tossed Noah to Alejandro, who was more than happy to help out his very cold friend! His very cold friend who had to stop squirming so he can help him warm up!

• Everyone hated the whisper singing.

• The reason why Lindsay finally "remembered" Tyler is because Chris told her she could before they resumed filming for the song. Yeah, he cut the cameras again so the cast could put on their coats and pulled her aside to say she could remember Tyler again, but to make it seem genuine yet funny. She delivered.

• Chris did this in revenge to the producers and made sure no interns were present when he told her. He was prepared to take out one of the producers' favorite bits. He still fully intended to pay Lindsay the agreed upon money and some bonus for her performance.

• The avalanche was another stunt/real. They were swept away by a snow wave, but it was planned. Noah still did not appreciate it, but it's okay because Alejandro held onto him the entire time, so there was no need to dig him out of the snow.

• While up the mountain, though, Noah broke off to go talk with Izzy, who was coincidentally walking by Leshawna and DJ. They made it look like they were whispering, but of course, Izzy didn't have an inside voice (sarcasm), and she loudly laughed.

"Oh definitely NoNo! It's so obvious! Maybe that's why Heather has been so rude to everyone. She's jealous!"

"Keep it down, Iz! But yeah, that's what I was thinking. Her crush on Alejandro is so obvious they could see it on the Nasa satellites."

"You're soooooo right. I feel bad for Leshawna now."

"Why's that nutso?"

"Well, Alejandro has been paying a lot of attention to her, and Heather likes him, and she's a little cray cray about things she wants. I mean, she has no problem manipulating people like the whole Trent thing, which made Leshawna talk everyone into voting him off. She also has no problem playing tricks and cheating, which we've seen before."

"Thaaaat...is a very well thought out and put point. Well, now I'm a little worried." Noah mumbled before Owen yelled something about food, and suddenly Izzy picked Noah up and carried him up the mountain, knowing fully well they just played Leshawna.

• It's not that they dislike Leshawna. They totally respect her, but at the same time, they need to keep low and go with the flow, and the flow was going against her. They knew that, what with Alejandro always flirting with her and inflating her ego a bit. They feel bad, but this is another elimination that doesn't seem like they had a hand in it at all, and they don't confess to it. Kind of like Harold's.

• When they reached the top and Noah saw the raw meat, he immediately yelled, "Code O!" Which had Eva and Izzy snapping into motion. Everyone was confused until they saw the two full-on tackle Owen to stop him from reaching the piles of raw meat.

This went on Alejandro's, Noah Isn't What He Seems List and his Team E-Scope Is Very Capable List.

• When Chris mentioned the meat grinder, Trent triumphantly held it up as Noah asked him to carry it to the cargo hold as the smaller boy had a feeling they were being called for a challenge. Trent was happy he listened to him.

• Alejandro had Justin on Owen duty to make sure the big guy did not eat their building material. He had Tyler on Izzy duty to make sure she didn't try to jump in the big grinder while Noah, Alejandro, and Trent worked with the electric grinder.

• Eva manned the grinding wheel while Heather was made to fill the grinder from the top, and Courtney tossed her the meat. Eva tossed Cody on top to help Heather because she did not trust Sierra. Gwen and Katie were stuffing the sausage casing while Sierra was building a disturbingly life-size Cody statue out of some of their meat.

• Leshawna took charge as she tended to do and ordered DJ to shovel the meat up, which he was fine doing. Sadie tried to tell Leshawna that she would stuff the casing as she had experience doing that since her uncle is a butcher and she used to be fascinated with his work and he taught her some of it until she lost interest when she was older. But the two still have a tradition of making sausages together for any family events. But Leshawna didn't listen and made Sadie get up on the platform to help shove the meat in the grinder. Bridgette got annoyed that Leshawna wouldn't listen, but they didn't have much time and Lindsay and Bridgette had to do the casing.

• No DJ accidentally throwing a bird into the grinder. DJ got too scared to touch the meat with the bird on top. Leshawna just kept yelling at him to hurry up, but Bridgette snapped back at Leshawna. Sadie had enough and jumped off the platform, and Lindsay snapped, too. Lindsay took charge instead and yelled out her orders but not in an angry way, just an authoritative one. She made DJ man the wheel, Sadie stuff, Leshawna shovel, and Bridgette to make sure the bird got away and not hurt.

• Chris did bring in those deadly goats. The man loves his dangerous animals.

• Team Chris was going down the mountain before everyone because of the electric grinder, so they missed the goat. Team Victory was second, and DJ did still hurt the goat. Team Amazon was last still because of Sierra and meat Cody.

• Eva was pissed and ready to throw Sierra off the mountain, but when Heather told them to jump, she realized what she was doing and said, "Do it." When Cody and Katie looked at her for guidance.

• Alejandro made Owen sit at the front of the sausage to weigh the front down more so they moved faster, and he had Noah sit in front of him. He doesn't know why, but in his head, he justified it with telling himself it was to keep Noah warm and ready for the next challenge. Owen fell off the sausage but held on to the front, which dragged Team Chris faster.

• They, of course, passed first with Alejandro only managing to hit Owen on a ledge once as he wanted to make it seem completely like an accident. When Trent started calling out directions because he thought Alejandro couldn't see where he was steering them, Alejandro had to pretend that to be true and listened to Trent.

• No dumb hat rewards because they honestly made no sense to me. The reward instead was extra training time to learn the Schuhplattler ( known as the slap dance, Schuh means shoe and plattler means slap!). The penalty was still the lederhosen for one person to wear and uncomfortable, not broken in, leather shoes for the rest of the team to wear. Team Victory just had to wear traditional dance shoes. Team Chris got the traditional Tyrolean hats that resembled Cody's penalty outfit.

• Cody was always going to wear the penalty outfit, so no having to try and get Sierra to wear it.

• Eva and Gwen sat out along with Tyler and Noah. Eva was glad Noah sat out because the guy is actually good at dancing and won against Eva and Izzy every time. They are trying to lay low, so it was a good move. Sadie was made to sit out.

• Sierra did sing her song, which disturbed not just Cody but everyone, and Trent did his best to shield the boy as they danced against each other.

• When Heather laughed at Leshawna's dancing and Alejandro started talking to her, Bridgette yelled out for Leshawna to focus. Leshawna ignored her, and Bridgette was so frustrated. That's when Heather noticed her frustration and mocked her for being jealous and started going in on Bridgette being jealous despite having a boyfriend and how it was the end of "stupid Gidgette!"

• Meanwhile, Alejandro continued on his manipulation with Leshawna. To which Justin was the one to point out the pep talk comment. He also threw in how Noah would not appreciate it given, "How smart and capable my little songbird is~."

To which Alejandro fake smiled and explained he was playing an angle but also, "He's not your anything!"

• While Bridgette stewed in her anger, Heather did try to warn Leshawna before the dance challenge started.

It was Leshawna against Owen.

Heather against Trent.

Izzy against Courtney

Bridgette against Justin

Sierra against DJ

Lindsay against Katie

Cody against Alejandro

• Heather, Leshawna, Izzy, Bridgette, Sierra, and Alejandro won the first round. Lindsay and Katie hit each other off the platform at the same time, so neither won. Then, the teams became:

Heather v Leshawna

Izzy v Bridgette

Sierra v Alejandro

• Again, Heather and Leshawna came to a tie, and the trash talking had been building the entire time. Bridgette won against Izzy, well more like Izzy got bored and pretended to fail, but only Eva and Noah saw that. Plus, Izzy didn't want to come across as too capable or like she was serious, so she pretended the light shock got to her, and she slipped off the edge. She had actually calculated when Chris would send the small shocks and made sure she was close to the edge when he next did it, which resulted in her fall. With Izzy falling and Justin's comment about Noah getting to him, Alejandro was doing his best to win but got distracted by hearing Noah's voice.

• Noah was throwing snow at Justin because the model was flirting with him again, and Noah was getting irritated. This situation distracted Alejandro enough for Sierra to knock him off. But to his team, it looked like Sierra got him out because her super strength kicked in when she saw Cody trying to help out Noah. That was a factor, but Alejandro could have dodged if he hadn't been distracted.

• Now is was:

Leshawna v Heather round 3

And

Sierra v Bridgette

• Alejandro still cheered for Leshawna once round 3 began. Which made Bridgette now suspicious because she had been noticing a lot lately and how he no longer complimented her and everything. Not that she wanted him to, but it was weird how he just shut off their communication the way he did.

• So when Heather shouted about Leshawna not being on Alejandro's team and slapped Leshawna. Bridgette yelled her agreement which made Heather mock her for being jealous.

Leshawna hit Heather off, and Bridgette jumped off the platform at the same time as Leshawna because Heather had finally pissed her to the point of snapping. Leshawna did slap Heather, but it wasn't over and over. She did it once and once was enough to snap her out of it because, man, this wasn't her. Bridgette slapped Heather once and yelled at her over all the comments about her and Geoff. She basically went off on how Heather was a sad, lonely, desperate person.

• Sierra won by default.

• No missing tooth, Heather, but she did get slapped on the same side of her face, so it was really red and going to bruise. Plus, she bit the inside of her cheek, so it was going to swell and be swollen for a short time. The bite wasn't super bad, more a nip, but she did still bleed.

• Chris then announced it was a double elimination for Team Victory. It wasn't that hard a decision for them given the growing tension between Leshawna and Bridgette. Plus, the team had gotten tired of Leshawna taking the role of leader and not listening to any of their ideas, suggestions, or input. Lindsay knew how that was, which was why she was confused about why Leshawna acted that way. You would think the girl would remember what happened to Lindsay season two, given the whole cast had a rewatch party a little while after the finale.

• Eliminated: Leshawna and Bridgette.

I think when we get closer to the merge, I won't reveal who gets eliminated as I might want to save that for the actual fic. But if you guys are okay with knowing, I don't mind sharing at all! I just thought maybe you wouldn't want me to spoil that.

Next

[hero-of-skies]

// someone needs to stop me before I sit here and create my own skyloftian dictionary and constellations with lore- //

[finsplurtz]

hello! may I request a subbot afab hawks x domtop amab reader?

idk what trope to pick bc I have so many ideas, but if you're comfortable with it, could it be a sugarbaby x sugardaddy reader AU? maybe with some praise and breeding?

feel free to ignore lol (love your fics btw <3)

— GUYS NEWSFLASH first time writing ftm character hahaha erm i hope i didn’t fuck this up😢😢🙏🙏 (i lvoe dis requets)

something more — keigo.takami

— dom ! male.reader x ftm ! sub ! Keigo Takami

— contents : afab ! Hawks , use of pussy cunt clit and stuff…. Sugardaddy reader , tooo much yap , hawks falls in love with u… er praising , a bit of breeding kink , u might get him pregnant actually…, :( ending..

warnings : love NOT reciprocated sowwy

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Hawks waved flirtatiously at a guy walking by to try and get his attention, he scoffed after the guy payed no mind to him. He got a cigarette out and patted himself to try and find his lighter..where could it have gone…

he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to see .. you. Took him a bit but he apologized and took the lighter from your hands.

“thank you..! uh where was it..?” he nervously, struggling to light his cigarette up.

“you left it behind at the bar.” you took the lighter and lit it for the blonde.

“ah..thank you..” he smiled looking away.

“Ya know, you’re a pretty thing. I noticed you at the bar and was going to talk to you but I looked away for a second and the next, you were gone haha” you chuckled dipping your hands into your pockets.

“uh yeah sorry I was…I just needed to take in some fresh air” he seemed a bit more calmer than he was a second ago- he couldn’t get anyone else to pay his drink. that’s why he left the bar.

“mhh. well. I was wondering if maybe I could spend a night with you?” Hawks perked up and looked at you. You were….tall and handsome..you had a nice face…….

“sorry I don’t go around and—“

You held out 200$ to him, waiting for him to take it. “how ‘bout it?” you look at him and smirk.

one night..couldn’t be bad plus, 200 dollars??

“alright then, mister.” He takes the money and smiles at you.

well that’s how you met keigo. after one night you proposed the idea of being his sugar daddy and since the sex wasn’t bad at all, and you paid good money, there was no harm!

overtime you guys became very fond of each other, you weren’t just some cash pig to him, you were special. but to you…..he was sure he was just a fuck toy for you.

you weren’t that old, you had great looks so- why haven’t you gotten a wife? or husband?? a great business guy like you would’ve had someone special by his side by now.

“hey yn…would you ever want to start a family at some point?” Hawks asked. He was sat on your large couch in small shorts and a loose top.

you looked at him and flashed him a smile. “someday, but not now” you were working on your laptop, you kept typing away.

“hmm…” he stood up and walked over to where you were and sat next to you, cuddling your arm.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he hid his smile at the pet name. he shook his head and you chuckled.

the way you treated him was as if he were your special person, you always took care of him. his place wasn’t so safe and it quite frankly- disgusted you… so you insisted he moved in with you. you always paid for him, got him what he wanted, in return he’d let you use him in bed for however long you wanted to.

not only that, but aftercare was amazing. you treated him like if he were made of glass, gentle with him when you bathed him, gentle kisses every now and then. he fought the urge everyday to tell you he loved you because he knew this wasn’t that kind of relationship.

but he started to fall for you. badly. at one point he didn’t really want your money anymore, he just wanted to be there for you and for you to be there for him.

it was about to be a year since you guys started this…thing you guys had going on and he decided to be straight up with his feelings, just tell you. That anniversary or whatever, you took him out to eat like any other day and got him a couple gifts, he was extremely happy and confident things would go well. He was hoping that maybe you guys could be something more than.. this. I mean you already act like a couple! There’s no way he could be wrong..

you guys got back home drunk as hell, laughing and shoving each other around. There was absolutely no fucking way you didn’t like this guy….then again you could just be the devil in disguise

your hands roamed his smaller body while you kissed and fought for dominance. He was losing himself in the pleasure, he had to tell you he just had to..

“uh- yn wait I…need to..” you kissed his neck and sucked on it, he moaned under you and grabbed at your hair. he pulled you off and you looked at him confused.

“I just need to…t..tell…” his words started to get stuck in his throat, nothing was coming out why couldn’t he just spill it out.

“you’re so cute Kei, baby…” you sat up and removed his pants as he squirmed, propped his legs on your shoulder and kissed the inside of his thighs.

“ahh..yn p..please let mhh..~” his back arched at the feeling of your mouth on his cunt. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system that made this all the more enjoyable, but he figured he’d tell you after you guys were done.

he pushed his hair back and gasped when you slid your fingers into his loose hole, all while lapping at his clit. He was crumbling underneath you, his hands pulling harshly on your hair as he squirmed and moaned at the pleasure.

“F-fuck! I’ll c..com..~” he bit his bottom lip, his lower half twitched as he came intensely, His hands letting go of your hair.

You sat up and prodded your cock at his entrance, teasing it over his sensitive clit making him flinch.

“w…wait…no condo-..mm…?” He looked so out of it and cute covering his cunt with his hand.

“what…don’t want my babies…?” you coo gently taking his hand off and leaning down into his ear.

“we’d make the cutest babies..” you harshly grab his hips and slam into him earning a scream from the younger male. He shouldn’t have found that as hot as he did, he’s holding onto you and biting your shoulder as you violate his stupid cunt.

He’s asking you to slow down as best as he can but you ignore him and continue to chase your orgasm. You almost completely stop when he whispers into your ear, an ‘I love you’.

It sounded desperate and whiny, you sit back up, not looking at his face. You look down at your dick, engulfed in the blondes pussy, you push his legs closer to his face and grab his hands, placing them on the back of his knees.

He hold them tightly, so many thoughts running through his little head.

Did you ignore him just now?

Your big hands spread his cunt and you slowly push all the way in, a stretched out whimper leaving Kei.

“Soo pretty, hon….aren’t you such a good boy for me..” you smirk to yourself, your thumb rubbing his clit gently. You grab his legs and move them aside to finally look at his face again.

His face was red and sweaty, tears running down his sad face, droll peaking out of his mouth.

“You’d do anything I asked…wouldn’t you, dear..?” You caressed his face, wiping his dumb tears away. He just stared into your lustful eyes before slowly nodding and smiling.

“Thats right, baby. Your pretty self belongs to me.” You tilt his head and begin to mark his neck as you continued to fuck into his twitching pussy.

He’s losing himself, those dumb thoughts about you not loving him still lurked in his mind. Of course you love him! You love him so much that you want to start a family with him, take care of whatever he needs for the rest of his life. He loves you more.

He’s all smiles and giggles that he doesn’t realize that he agreed to letting you finish inside him, till he feels your hot semen shoot inside of him.

His smile slowly falls, his heartbeat speeding up.

“…y…yn…?” You sit up and pull out, grinning at how your cum spills out of keigo’s cute pussy.

“what? take some pills, dear. You’ll be fine.” You kiss his forehead ignoring the tears that fell from him as he touches his tummy.

“what was it that you wanted to tell me? I’ve got something I wanna say to” you smile and lay down next to his smaller figure, he’s staring at the ceiling, you keep looking at his side profile waiting for him to answer.

“I….don’t have anything to say…” he says tiredly. He finally looks at you waiting for what you were gonna say.

“Hm..i met someone who could join us next time. He’s real cute I think you guys could really get along! Don’t worry though, kei. You’re still my favorite baby…” you smile, exhausted, you kiss the blonde one more time before pulling him into a hug.

“….what…?”

a/n; you guys rlly like hawks y’all are FREAKS (i love him more)

[sammyluvr]

✶ . ၄၃ . laundry machines — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, poor editing, inexperienced!reader(dating-wise) so sort of shy!reader too, mentions of madison & resulting guilt, implied later seasons sam, kissing, 1.7K words. requested !

summary : you're new to being in a relationship, but sam finds it endearing and is happy to take things slow.

some days are smooth and seamless and like an actual dream come true. others are clumsy, awkward, and make you shy away from being perceived at all. it’s just that this is all quite new to you, and you’re very unsure how to navigate being in a relationship, especially with someone so handsome and lovely. no one’s told you what’s allowed and what isn’t, how you should be acting, what an appropriate response is to the sweet things he does to you.

this all makes you easily flustered, often embarrassed, and yes, you’ll admit it, a bit shy at times. he’s just so tall and steady and you know he’s done this all before, even if the last time he was in a long term relationship was nearly a decade ago. and you’re not even that far from him in regards to age, but you’re somehow so much more lost than he is. it’s nice, because he’s more than willing to take the lead on things, to guide you through it. but sometimes that reminds you of your inexperience, and it sort of makes you wish that you could be a bit better for sam. it almost makes you feel like you’re forcing him to do all the work.

alternatively, sam’s own narrative regarding your inexperience is one of deep fondness, and even a bit of relief. he himself can be awkward and shy, even now and after all he’s been through, but with you, he gets to be the one who’s sure on his feet and smooth and a little easy. secretly, he’s still remembering and figuring out how to do this all. but the little things come to him comfortably enough that, to you, he seems entirely confident and effortless.

“sam?” you call to him from your bedroom. he’s sitting in the living room of your little apartment, content with a cup of tea you’ve made for him. “is it alright if i wash your jacket with my things, too?” 

“of course,” he calls back, his voice at its normal level of sweet and kind. you don’t see the huge, endeared grin on his face. he’s not sure why it wouldn’t be alright to wash his jacket with your things. it’s certainly the most logical thing to do, and it’s not as if he’d mind one bit. actually, he likes the idea of his clothes with yours, spinning around and getting tangled together in the washing machine. it’s domestic, soft, and intimate in a simple way. maybe that’s why you asked, he wonders; intimacy makes you a bit timid at times. 

with that, his jacket is placed inside your laundry basket. it’s dirty from a hunt. sam wanted to stop by your apartment first thing when it was over by mid morning and he wasn’t too far away. he thinks he flustered you, though, because he forgot to text beforehand. but, you also looked very happy to see him, so he’s sure it’s okay. you had melted right into his kiss, though your hands remained chastely resting on his elbows as he sweetly cupped your face. 

now, you’re walking out of the bedroom with your laundry, met with a fond look from sam on the couch. 

“i’ll be right back. i just need to get this done by tonight,” you explain as you head to the door to head down to the washing machine in the building’s basement.

“i’ll come with you,” sam says, standing, still wearing his pretty smile. he imagines he’ll have to leave in a few hours, and he’d like to spend every moment until then with you if you’ll let him.

“there’s no need, i’ll only be gone a minute,” you say, only because you don’t want to make him get up and walk down, then back up all those stairs.

his long legs take him to the door in less than a few seconds anyway. “i want to,” he says simply, and you feel silly that it sends your heart pumping extra hard.

“if you insist,” you smile, taking it in stride. sam notices and resists the urge to just sweep you up in his arms and kiss you for a long while. he hasn’t kissed you again since he arrived, but he doesn’t think you’d have as much ease dealing with that without being greatly flustered. he’d probably like to see that, but he’s not a cruel man. you’d argue that he’s the gentlest of them all. he follows you down the stairs because you refuse to let him carry the laundry basket. he’s already silently promising he’ll carry it upstairs once it’s all washed and dried. he’ll help you fold it too, if you’ll let him. he’s not sure if you’ll be alright with him catching a glimpse or two at your underwear. 

that makes him think about the time he was about twenty three and madison not-so-subtly showed off her panties to him while folding her laundry on the first day they’d met. she’s a sad memory. a guilty one, too. but he has you in front of him, softly chattering about what you did this morning, and he lets her be a nice memory for today. you give him plenty of nice memories, and he thinks about how he likes the way the two of you take things slow.

you don’t seem to think about the fact that sam can see what you’re putting in the washing machine, and he finds it cute, for no particular reason. he finds it cute when you’re nervous about something you needn’t be or when you aren’t about something he predicted you might. maybe he just finds everything about you cute.

he leans against the drying machine and watches happily as you put the washer to the right settings and start the cycle. 

“so,” you say, turning your head to look at him, “do you have–” you’re cut off by the loud rush of water in the machine as it begins soaking your clothes—and his jacket—and you shake your head because you momentarily forgot just how loud it is. it’s the loudest washing machine you’ve ever used, you told him once. he himself is almost startled by it; you really weren’t kidding. he gives a little laugh and you can’t help but laugh a bit too. neither of you have to say anything to agree to go back upstairs.

he holds the basement door open for you and one of his big hands that you’re secretly so fond of hovers by the small of your back as you pass him and start up the stairs. only you think it’s a secret. he can tell how much you like to hold hands and fiddle with his fingers. you stare sometimes, too, but he’d never tell you that for fear of rendering you too flustered to function properly for the rest of the night.

“you were saying?” he says, encouraging you to continue now that he can actually hear you.

you can’t tell if it’s a blessing or not that he’s asked you to keep going while walking up the stairs. you sort of wanted to be watching his face when you asked, but you’re also thinking you might be grateful that you won’t in case it helps you feel less nervous. he’s just so handsome and sincere and lovely that it makes you nervous. you don’t know how to be casual around him. everything just feels so special and new and nerve-wracking.

“i was just wondering if you had another case lined up for tomorrow,” you tell him, hoping that you’re succeeding in sounding laid-back like you wish you could be. once again, he thinks it’s sweet you don’t always know how to act around him. “or, you know, anything like that,” you add on. you don’t want to ask without knowing if he has somewhere to be in the morning.

sam feels a spark of hope and a little bit of youthful giddiness that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time before you. “i don’t,” he says simply, “i don’t have anything tomorrow.”

you chew lightly on the inside of your cheek, considering your options. there’s still another flight and a half of stairs until you get to your floor and you’re thinking, despite how nervous it makes you, you really would like to be facing him as you ask. it’d be obvious and awkward if you wait until you’re back in your apartment, right? but it’s silly to ask in a stairwell, you think.

then you realize you're probably overthinking it. maybe neither of those things are true. maybe it doesn’t matter at all how you ask, so long as you do it. you know he’ll say yes, you know he’ll like the idea of it, and you’re pretty sure he’ll like the fact that you’re the one to bring it up first. and you’re pretty confident that you love him and that he really, truly cares about you too. that gives you a burst of confidence.

you turn around, right on the steps with your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and a little, likely nervous looking smile on your lips. “do you want to sleep over tonight?” you ask, somehow able to make yourself sound more sure of things than you feel.

his lips curl into a happy, almost proud smile. it’s very obvious how much he adores you. all you have to do is look at him and see the way his adoration pools in his eyes and his dimples and shows in the lightness of his eyebrows and the showing of his front teeth. his hands that you love so much drift up to hold your waist, moving slowly so you can anticipate it. the touch still makes you draw in a steadying breath.

“i would love to. are you sure that’s alright with you?” he says. he’s trying to sound casual too, but it comes out more reverent than anything else. 

your smile isn’t so nervous now. “mhmm,” you hum. “i’m sure.” this time, you really are sure. though, you still have to grip his shoulders for support when he kisses you, right in the stairway like he’d probably kiss you anywhere.

[carbonfiction]

Could you do some angst Logan x mutant!reader comfort. Like maybe she has a similar origin to Logan where she was tested on for her powers and escaped. She ends up at the mansion and that’s how her and Logan end up together.

I’ve been wanting to write this myself for a while but haven’t had time. I need to see some truama bonding and comfort for that man with someone who really understands what it’s like. I would give anything to be that person. 😭

Hi anon!! Im so sorry this has taken me so long to get to- despite some little changes on the request, and my unsureness on writing angst, i hope you enjoy this drabble!

One step at a time

Summary: sleep can be a fickle thing, a struggle more personal than most.. But it just so happens theres another person in the mansion that understands. Written with X1 logan in mind!

Warnings?: angst, mentions of nightmares and troubled sleep, self doubt, slight depression? Comfort and fluff at the end? Idk how to tag this really.. Words: 1.5k Masterlist

People were scared of things they didn’t understand, of people that didn’t fit in to a societal box. And being a mutant? Well, you became the scariest thing of all. An unknown, a secret unshared in a room full of people.

To some, that fear, that little nagging doubt about what you are, what you could do.. fuelled somthing else entirely. Not fear, not quite, more an evil kind of curiosity. A fixation to poke and prod, bend and snap, push the limits of their fear regardless of yours in the name of science. Regardless that you too, we’re a person, different now yes, but still born of the same matter once.

Careless to the person you were, only the thing you could become. And even then, if you weren’t useful.. you were useless. Another mistake in a pile of scraped idea's, a caged creature begging for a way out.

You never wanted it, never asked to sit in a room and wonder why. Why you, why this. There was never a good enough answer, never a reason, not really. Some People were just cruel, vile and nasty, out for their own gain.. to test the limits of humanity.

But then it begged the question, what was humanity? Because it wasn’t this. It wasn’t the sleepless nights afraid to close your eyes. The sanctity of sleep a luxury. Peace a rationed thing.

Therefore It had become normal to find you in the dead of night, curled up the couch in front of the fireplace; whilst everyone else slumbered. Sometimes a book in hand, other times just your thoughts. Embered flames burning bright and warm, the crackle of wood often the only sound. It was how your relationship with Logan had bloomed.

From wordless nods walking down corridors to conversations and nights shared infront of the fire; he had become pleasant company, a friend you regarded higher- one who understood better- than most. He'd seen the same horrors behind his eyes, the years a tiresome thing.

So it's here you sit, like always, in your spot on the couch peering between pages of a book and the old grandfather clock, waiting for Logan.

It was late and he'd usually show up around now, your meetings held in a trusted pact- an agreement that if sleep held pain, this is where you'd find one another. It was up to choice then, if you'd relocate to one of your room's; if you felt the embrace of the others arms would quiet the horror, just for a while.

Because while it's true that you both may no longer be broken here in the mansion.. you'd always be bruised bone deep.

"Hey" Logan murmers softly, breaking you from your thoughts as you crane your neck toward him. Hes stood tall in the doorway, clad in sweats and a white vest, two steaming mugs in hand as he pads closer, handing you one over the back of the couch. "Figured you'd want a drink, tried to make it how you like"

You nod, taking a tentative sip with a greatful smile. Your eyes fluttering shut a moment as you swallow, relishing the warmth. Logan had indeed made it the exact way he knew you loved, and it swells your heart; the fondness you feel for the action- for him. "'S perfect, thank you.."

"Was nothin.." he shrugs, sighing into his own cup, back hitting the couch besides you. the cushions are a soft embrace for his aching body, the days seeming longer. He'd confessed one night, that the winter had never helped his affliction. That the cold air made his adamantium bones ache in a way that seemed impossible to describe. The sting of his knuckles that bit sharper with each snikt of his claws.

You shift quietly, book page marked and now placed on the coffee table. Logan watches silently as you reach for the soft blanket that lays dormant on the back. Your fingers adjusting the fabric carefully, unfolding and draping it until it rests over his knees too.

Logan smiles, a look reserved for these nights- for you- in his eyes. Its a soft, greatful, little thing; Unreminicent of his usual gruff demeanor. he lifts a large arm bringing it to rest snug behind your shoulders, tugging you closer.

Theres a comfortable silence that follows then, sat side by side. Logan simply watches as you pick the book back up, resuming your page. A warm feeling in his chest that he hasn't felt for a while as your eyes flit across the words.

He still cant understand how anyone could- would- hurt you. Would even dare harm a delicate hair on your head. It boils a possessive type of anger inside of him, that people, the very same that had hurt him, had dared. That they had ruined your trust, made you into something of their design, just like him.

And Its then that Logan cant help how his mouth moves, how it burts the words before he can even think to stop them, make them sound less jumbled. "You uh.. didn't deserve it you know?.. What they did"

The words feel foreign on his tongue but they hold meaning- one that you can feel as you cast your gaze to him.

Theres a look in your eyes he cant quite read as you hum honestly. "Neither did you. you know that right?"

And Logan knows. Hell its deep down but he knows. Yet hearing the words still bring an ache to his chest. Its beyond hard for him to even think about- admit really- even after all this time. He hadn't deserved it and neither had you. But that was certain weather perceived or not.

"Im.. Tired, logan" you trail quietly, casting your book aside as your head falls to rest on his shoulder. "Just.. So tired of being tired."

A shattering feeling stabs at Logan's chest from your admission, a sigh falling against your hair. "I know you are. Hell so am i but.." he pauses, trying to find the correct sentiment.

"We- you- can do this"

You can't help the exhaled sound that slips from you, not a laugh, not not a breath either. "Logan-" you try to protest, try to shift back inside your non vulnerable shell ready to shut down, but he has you locked next to him, fingers coming to rest on your jaw.

"No, look at me, Cmon" he murmurs, cupping and turning your cheek gently until your gaze meet his. "like you told me that once. Its one step at a time alright?"

You recall saying it, remember the context, and yet the idea of saying it to yourself feels foreign- as foreign as the words blurted from logans tongue.

He'd had a nightmare that night, had woken with a hoarse scream and his claws embedded in the plush mattress; pillows ruined with feathers everywhere, soaked in sweat. You'd come barreling in from downstairs having heard his sounds of distress, knowing the situation.

But.. You hadn't laughed, despite him being so surrounded by pillow feathers that he's sure he looked like big bird. You hadn't been cruel or judgemental, pitty in your eyes. You'd just been.. Well, you. Kind and understanding, reassuring him that it was okay, that he was safe. To take a shower and you'd sort the rest. It was from then that the fondness he felt for you had bloomed to something a little more inside of him.

You nod gently, a small, barely there smile on your lips now as you repeat. The light of the fire a soft glow in your eyes, tone a fraction more hopeful. "One step at a time"

"Yeah, thats it sweetheart" he smiles gently, a proud look in his own eye's, before his throat clears. A bashful look taking over his features as he continues, thumb absentmindedly stroking over your cheekbone. A distraction to the honesty he was going to drop "Besides.. you got this knucklehead who'd really like to keep this.. Us.. up"

You swallow, breath stuttering as your cheeks heat."You.. You would?" you sound a little surprised, yet a little hopeful, and It makes Logan smile, hearing your heart pounding in your chest.

"Yeah sweetheart" he breathes, voice a low gravel as he anxiously nods, before rushing to add. "if- if thats something you'd want?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, so excitedly it makes logan chuckle, the deep rumble joining the crackling fire. "I, uh, i mean.. ofcourse i do Logan"

Logans fingers tilt your face higher, his forehead coming to rest on yours as your fingers trace over his scruff coated jaw. "Things are better with you.." you murmer, breath puffing over his lips. "Lighter. You get it, get me.. This.."

He hardly lets you finish before his lips are pressed to yours, breaking the miniscule gap between them. His kiss so uncharacteristically gentle, like he was afraid one taste and you'd break.

"Things are better with you too.." he says quietly, forehead on yours, a smile against your mouth as his nose rubs your cheek.

And so Its that night you both agree, while wrapped up in one another, that things are better together. Better with each others shoulder to lean on. And despite the darkness that would still linger sometimes, that's all that mattered. You and him. Him and you.

[cthulhus-curse]

Extra Credit

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 6,020

Warnings: Age Difference, Alluded CSA, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship | 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: Hopefully I scheduled this & the other fics correctly and not for the following year because I may no longer be around to fix it.

Summary: A series of snapshots of loving months alongside your professor which lead up to one of the most difficult decisions you’ve made in your life.

“Good morning, sunshine. Ready for another day of work?”

Although exhaustion ripped through your body, the sound of the woman’s voice made you smile. You learned to enjoy it through the past few weeks. Each day you woke up at what felt like the crack of dawn and went straight to work. Although it was right on campus, an office not too far from your dormitory, you weren’t used to being awake at such early hours. At least the pay was good and your boss was even better, you mused. 

“I can’t wait,” you replied flatly. Your boss, Professor Romanoff, came up to the desk you called a home ever since being hired. She held up two cups – one was her usual morning coffee and the other scalding hot chocolate topped off by a mountain of whipped cream. As always, she called you a child for picking that over anything caffeine-heavy. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem, sweetheart. Gotta keep my little assistant awake enough to get through the day,” Natasha chuckled. “Don’t worry, it won’t be heavy for you. We just have to get through grading some papers and then the rest of the shift is yours.”

The smirk remained plastered over your features as she handed you the hot chocolate before moving further in her office. Being the head of the English department at your university, Natasha got her privacy intact. It’s not like she was thrilled to work with her fellow professors anyway. 

“I heard there was a big party being hosted by your friends in the girl’s soccer team. I assume you’re planning on going?” Natasha’s tone was filled with curiosity, but never anger when she so much as alluded to your private life, specifically that having to do with one Wanda Maximoff. “I can let you go a few hours early if you need to get ready. Classes are done for the semester and you need to enjoy your college years. I’m sure Miss Maximoff would be happy to see you again. I know she means a lot to you.”

Ever since you had accepted the job as Natasha’s assistant, Wanda had given you the cold shoulder. You had spoken to her from time to time, but only when she came back to the dorm after days of being away, only to leave once again. At first you blame yourself for causing a rift in your relationship, if one could even call it that, but eventually you came to realize just how immature she was – taking a simple job offer did not mean your feelings for her changed in any way. 

“I actually haven’t seen her in awhile. She’s staying at Carol and Val’s place I think,” you shrugged while taking a sip of your drink. The way it burned its way onto your tongue and down your throat caused you to hum happily. 

“Oh? And how are you feeling about that?”

“I’m taking it pretty well. You know she’s not very fond of you and I think I pissed her off by agreeing to work for who she deems as ‘a fucking witch bitch’. It’s just childish and stupid,” you rolled your eyes at the mere idea of it. “I hate being someone’s second choice like that. She doesn’t even see how much I love her.”

Just like Wanda didn’t see you, you didn’t see Natasha. Your professor was crestfallen at the voices you threw at her. She hated seeing you in such pain, not being able to do anything about the mistreatment you received from your casual fling. The older woman cared for you, perhaps more than she led on – the mere image of seeing you in pain made bile rise up your throat before it was maintained in place. 

“Then it’s her loss. You deserve better than that, honey. You’re an amazing, beautiful, and smart woman. You don’t need to be sitting around waiting for someone to notice you. If she doesn’t like you the same way you like her, then it’s time to move on,” Natasha explained as she attempted to keep her own emotions at bay. She threw a sympathetic look your way even if you didn’t notice it. “Listen Y/N, I know we aren’t as close as you are with Miss Maximoff, but I care about you. You are by far my brightest student yet and I see so much potential in you. You don’t deserve to be thrown around like trash, only used when she gets bored with someone else. You deserve the world.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna give me that?”

The ‘me’ went unspoken from Natasha. She simply sagged her head and stared down at the mountain of paperwork laying in her desk. It would be to no avail if she decided to work – with a brain oozing with thoughts of you, her focus disrupted. 

“How about we try something different today? We can work for a bit and then I can take you out for lunch. My treat,” Natasha said. “How does that sound? I just hate seeing you like this, sweetie.”

You thought about it for a second. There was something awfully safe about Natasha. As much as you wished to spend countless hours obsessing over Wanda, sometimes you found yourself humoring the idea of your professor. She was sweet, always protective as she huffed at the idea of you being hurt. At first you assumed it was some sort of motherly instinct, but after having caught yourself staring down her cleavage from time to time, the top buttons of her blouse always open, and she stared back with a smile, you knew something much more intimate lay beneath. 

“I’d like that,” you replied, suddenly drunk on Natasha’s presence as Wanda was left behind. 

“Good! Now time to work, hon. You don’t get paid to sit all day and look pretty,” the redhead chuckled at her own joke, suddenly feeling much more rejuvenated. “If you finish quickly, maybe we can grab some dessert as well.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

A shudder ran down your body as hands traveled across your back. Fingernails left heavy trails in their wake, surely to be worn with the utmost pride. You hummed, eyes closed while holding still, standing there naked as the day you were born. In the dusk of the room, you let yourself be the center of attention; the center of her attention. 

“What did she do this time?” Natasha asked from behind. Her mouth was quickly upon your upper back, kissing its way along your shoulder blades. Never did she lose her tenderness when touching you. “Tell me, darling girl. Use your words.”

You didn’t know when it had begun. One day you were at work standing in front of your boss’s desk before you became trapped against it. The first time Natasha kissed you was then and there. Neither could hold back the attraction you shared for one another. No longer did you prioritize Wanda as you allowed your professor to take you. 

“I found her sleeping with Kate. She was…she was laying in my bed, Nat. I saw them and just ran away. She fucked her in my bed!” You sobbed, but didn’t allow yourself to shed tears. Not long before you had promised yourself never to cry over Wanda again. “I didn’t know who else to go to. I just thought of you and ran.”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I hate that she keeps hurting you,” Natasha mumbled back as she hugged you from behind. “Don’t you dare run away this late at night again. You know how much I worry about you. I’m just a phone call away, malyshka. Always.” 

“I’m sorry,” you responded before biting down on your lip. “I promise I’ll be good from now on. Your good girl, right?”

“Darling, you are always my good girl.”

Natasha motioned you to get on the bed, your head against a pillow as your ass remained up in the air. She allowed her hands to roam over your backside, smirking as a hand went down against a cheek. It was only a soft hit. Never did Natasha wish to inflict any horrid pain over you. As her eyes noticed the faint bruises Wanda left along your skin, she huffed. 

The redhead stood over you. She carried a dildo between her legs that was attached to a harness. Similar to you, she was fully nude minus for the red briefs she wore. Strong arms reeking with muscles held you close. As she inched the toy between your legs, you let out a loud moan. 

“I don’t like how she hurts you. I know you like it, Y/N, but she leaves you looking like a piece of meat. Does she even take care of your wounds, baby? Or does she leave you like that after hitting you until you’re crying out for her to stop?” Natasha questioned, already knowing what the answer was. Ever since first seeing your body, she was the one who took care of you as a surrogate for Wanda. “I know I can’t control what you do, but honey, this isn’t right. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Rather than vocalize your response, you hid your face against the pillow. Natasha slid inside you softly, allowing the dildo to fill you with ease. There was a grunt that you basked upon – it was low and throaty filled with your professor’s longing desire. She used all her force to drag you into a makeshift sitting position. From then on, Natasha allowed herself to, only gently, give you the pleasure Wanda failed to gift you with. 

“I want more,” you begged, eyes rolled to the back of your head the further Nat moved inside of you. Movements were languid and sloppy. All the older woman focused on was your own pleasure, not speed or roughness. Unlike Wanda, she took her time getting to know exactly what to do and how to touch you. “Please, mommy, I need more!”

“Whatever you want, my little angel.”

Natasha did not spend time rummaging through the newfound honorific. She beamed at it, but didn’t comment on anything. Instead, she thrust her hips forth fucking you with love that Wanda never gave you. Kisses were spread all across your back. Each grunt, each little noise she made mixed with your own, made you feel in heaven. 

Hands gripped your breasts from behind. They squeezed the mounds tightly, rolling erect nipples through the fingers. As Natasha pumped the strap-on in you, your cunt dripping with juices while velvety walls hugged her tight, she brought a hand down your body. Fingertips pressed against your clit and began teasing it, flicking the bud as you screamed loudly – surely her neighbors would hear. 

“You’re doing so well for me, Y/N. Just look at how you’re taking my cock. My pretty, little girl,” Natasha moaned when hugging you tight. She nuzzled her face against your shoulder before nipping your skin. There were various hickeys left upon you, signs for Wanda to see if you ever dared return to her. Natasha knew you weren’t hers, but each second she spent with you made her crave you even more. “I bet she can’t fuck you like this, can she? That little…she can’t make you feel this good. Only I can make it better. I’m the only one that will ever keep you safe and you know this.”

When you finally came, Natasha was there to keep you close. She remained frozen in place as your orgasm shot through your body. Not even a second passed before she inched you on the bed, allowing you to rest upon the soft mattress with the dildo still inside you. 

“I never want to see you hurt again. If she ever does this to you, if you end up going back, I want you to call me when you need me. I never break a promise,” Natahsa muttered as she placed a kiss over the back of your head. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

From then on, you found yourself hesitating each time you merely humored the idea of going back to Wanda. Even if you told yourself that the relationship with Natasha was nothing more than platonic, you questioned the validity of such a statement. Every second you spend with her, you fall further for your professor. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“Tell me about your family.”

The two of you had escaped the cruel Bostonian summer filled with never-ending traffic and burning skyscrapers. It was the dead-center of the season and the entire city was plagued by a mix of potential commuters for the various academic institutions or those who, for some reason, decided for it to be her vacation destination.

Natasha had taken you away to a small town across the state. It was remote, small enough so that the two of you could enjoy your life in public without the student body of the university to find you. All you had done was pack all the bags you could muster for the weekend getaway. It was peace which became well-deserved. 

You weren’t much of a fan of them, but Nat had always spoken highly of the times she took her sister to pick out peaches ever since she first learned how to drive. The two of them would escape into an orchard in the depths of Ohio and come out with their hands full with fruits. The mere memory she shared with you was enough to get you to agree to her plans. 

“Well, there’s really not much to talk about. I was adopted by Melina and Alexei,” Natasha began as though it was the most casual thing in the world to refer to her parents by their given names. “I have a sister, also adopted, named Yelena. She’s the light of my life. A bit of an asshole I must say, but she’s the one I care about most.”

“Yelena Belova? That’s your sister?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows; it was a name similar to that of a member of Wanda’s team. 

“Yes. I realize she’s friends with Miss Maximoff,” Natasha replied with apparent dismay. “As hard as I’ve tried to keep her away from that girl, the two are almost inseparable. I trust her enough to not do anything overly stupid though. Lena has always been a bit of a firecracker.”

The two of you walked hand in hand along the orchard. There was not a label to whatever you had yet, but it didn’t care. Natasha was clear when she said she would never pressure you into it. Instead, you allowed yourself to be a free agent who, at times, found yourself wishing to have something more with your professor. 

Eyes roamed over the woman’s body. Usually you saw her in professional clothes or the occasional nightgown when you stayed over at her place, but never with a pair of shorts and a loose camisole. There were sunglasses shielding Natasha’s viridescent eyes from the sun, but you had looked into them for long enough to memorize their beauty. 

You noticed how she covered her body from time to time, hands over her thighs, cowering away from the nonexistent public that dared gawk in her general direction. It hurt to see. She was the perfect image of beauty to you, but a disgusting void to herself. 

There were rare moments in which Natasha allowed you to touch her. She was a fan of studying each and every one of your favorite sweet spots, running hands across your skin before making you giggle under the drunkenness of arousal. The few times you had placed your palms upon her frame you did so in a tender manner – Nat was a porcelain doll under your touch who could break at any seconds. It merely lasted a few seconds before she pushed you off and rushed to apologize for acting out, only for you to shoot her a warm smirk and tell her there was nothing wrong with that. 

Shaking your head, you brought yourself back to the present and carried on. 

“Yeah, your sister’s always been nice to me though. She’s not as close with Wanda if that makes you feel better. I’ve mostly seen her chasing around that Kate girl. Maybe it’s an underclassmen thing,” you shrugged. “What about your parents?”

There was a pregnant pause, clear hesitation, before Natasha continued.

“Well, I never met my biological family nor did I care about seeking them out. My mom has always been amazing,” Natasha stopped for a second, her hands gliding across the peaches that she carefully eyed. “My father…not so much.”

“Why do you refer to her as mom and him as father?” came your question before you could help yourself.

It was clear her demeanor had changed. Natasha stood with her back straight, hands clasped in front of her as a means to shield herself. She only stared forth into nothingness. Her body was with you in the orchard while her mind went back to when she was a child – to when she was alone with him. 

“It makes it less personal,” she finally answered. “It’s also easier than calling him ‘the man whose wife wanted to adopt two kids he never wanted’ and then turned my childhood to shit. I grew up way too fast because of that…that durak!”

The yelp she let out was fueled with emotions you had yet to see. Natasha was rarely angry, let alone emotionally vulnerable to let you peek through her walls. Her body sagged after fighting so long being tense. You could see tears rushing down her face even with sunglasses that covered them, but knew not to make a comment.

“Nat, has he ever…?”

You didn’t want to humor such a thing. Even then, you already knew the answer given her body language and unspoken words. While you fought with the idea of potentially driving to her father’s house and beating him to a pulp, Natasha found herself glad it had been her over Yelena. If something were to happen to her sister, she would never forgive herself. Each time he came at night, the woman sacrificed herself. It was a small price to pay for her beloved sibling’s safety. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, baby,” Natasha said with a cracked voice, turning the other way to move further into the orchard. You gave her space knowing that whenever she felt comfortable enough to talk, she would. All you could do was follow along as the professor whispered again. “I’m sorry.”

But behind her broken tone, deep down, you could hear a younger Nat’s faint cry of ‘yes’. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

There were moments in which exhaustion overtook you during long tedious days. You could barely move a muscle and still feel as though life had been sucked out of you. Most of your summer was spent chasing around Natasha, who you remained working for throughout the following months with little to no workload. Being around the woman, doing mere iced coffee runs and chatting without a care in the world while in the office made you feel free for once in a lifetime – for the first time since you met Wanda, she was an afterthought. 

Natasha was quick to jump in and take care of you through those moments. She always acted out in small, loving ways when paying for your food, giving you rides, or merely holding your hand as the two of you walked into your next adventure. Her desperation to hold you in her arms and promise you all would be well was intense. There was love radiating from her a mile away which you were far too shortsighted to see. 

“Tell me what you need, malyshka. Come on, little darling, use your words.”

After a particularly difficult day, you found yourself safe in Natasha’s lap. There had been no overexertion of your being during that day. It had mostly been relaxing as you worked alongside your professor on a Friday, but when you received a call from Wanda midday, the woman asking you to meet up, you merely froze and broke down in the office – your ‘friend’ only reached out when she needed something from you and it had been nearly a month since you last spoke amicably. After you only hummed as a reply and ended the call, Natasha was there to break your fall. 

“Mommy’s here for you. I know today has been a really difficult day and that you’ve felt really stressed, but I don’t want you focusing on those icky thoughts. I just wish she didn’t hurt you like this,” came the older woman’s whisper as she pulled you close. The two of you had rushed out of the office even hours before Natasha liked calling it quits. Even as behind as she was with her future lesson planning, she still prioritized you before anything else. “Use your words, detka. Tell mommy how she can help.”

“I don’t even want to think,” you flatly mumbled with tears threatening to fall down your eyes. Hands gripped the professor’s clothes while your forehead lay frozen in her shoulder. With arms wrapped around your body you finally felt safe. “Please help me forget, Nat. I never want to think about her again. I just-” your words were cut short by a short while your voice was left cracked. 

“Shh it’s alright, my darling girl. Mommy’s here to make it all better.”

While holding you tight, Natasha allowed a hand to slip down your body. It snuck to your lap then between your legs. No teasing was found – she knew you how overwhelmed you were and was ready to give you whatever you wished for without question. When naked fingers went past the waistline of your sweats and underwear, landing upon your already throbbing sex, you couldn’t hold back a throaty moan. 

You quickly realized Natasha wanted to separate herself from the man who agreed to adopt her. He was rough, violent, and torturous much like how she saw Wanda, whereas your professor never failed to bring a smile to your face even as she smacked your backside harshly — she always soothed the skin with the palm of her hand before carrying on. She wanted, no, needed to break away from his grasp over her mind. Otherwise she’d end up as a battered slave of his once again. 

Fingertips brushed against your clit then studied the entirety of your slit while coating themselves in your everlasting slick. Natasha peppered your wet cheeks, filled with desolate tears, with kisses. She mumbled only the sweetest words while easing herself in you. You cried out about your sorrows, about Wanda’s mistreatment over you, while the older woman simply sat there and held you through it. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Anyone who dares make you feel this bad is an idiot. Y/N, my love, you deserve the world,” Natasha said lovingly. She nuzzled her face against your own, foreheads pressed together with fingers knuckle-deep inside your cunt. You couldn’t even muster the enthusiasm to grind on them. Instead, you remained shaking as Natasha made it all better. “You never let yourself be treated like that by anyone, alright? Whether it’s Miss Maximoff or me, or anyone else. My darling angel should be treated as the princess she is. You’re one of a kind, honey, a perfect little bear. I never want you to forget just how valuable your existence is.”

Tears of joy were mixed with your gloomy ones. There were cries of pleasure and internal pain that Natasha never stopped supporting you through. She allowed her lips to touch down upon your own. With your orgasm approaching soon and her tender care, you were elated. 

“My sweet baby,” came Natasha’s hushed whisper. She made you come, your back arching while fingernails dug deep into the redhead’s outfit. There was a loud moan, though distant, that boomed across the room. Even as you fell apart, strong arms held you in place. Such a wondrous creature such as yourself, according to your boss, deserved to see the stars. “You did such a good job for mommy. Always my perfect girl,” she breathed out with fingers still deep inside you. “All mine.”

You swore there was a muttered ‘I love you’ thrown somewhere, but with the mix of mental and physical exhaustion raining down upon your body, you merely shrugged your shoulders and fell limp against Natasha. Although you wouldn’t admit it, your heart longed to say the words back – out of everyone in your life, you never expected to fall into the depths of love with your professor. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

“I don’t know why you like this show so much. It’s just senseless killing and at the end they solve everything and go home.”

Although it was supposed to be a relaxing weekend towards the start of the Fall semester, you found the mind boggling statement to fill you with feigned rage. Even as classes began, the arrangement between you and the professor carried on. You still worked for her even if there were no classes in said semester you took with you. As disappointing as that was, you began seeing more of Natasha regardless in more ways than one. 

The two of you were sitting on the couch late one Friday night. You were exhausted with your course load and Natasha cursed off the new freshmen she had to teach; they always pretended to still be in high school. A bowl of popcorn was nestled between your legs. While you watched Criminal Minds, Natasha settled for insulting it. 

“It’s fun, Romanoff. Entertaining at the very least.” you shot back with a knowing smirk. You had been the one to introduce her to various shows. Who would’ve thought that the great Professor Romanoff was living underneath a rock her whole life? 

“Wow I’ve been demoted from mommy to Romanoff. That’s sad,” Natasha laughed before grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Who’s your favorite character?”

“Probably Rossi,” came your shrug. “He’s the guy with the beard.”

“Really?” At the surprised tone your lover let out, you feigned offense. “I thought you’d like one of the girls. What about that brunette with the bangs?”

“Oh, Emily left for the Interpol. I would like JJ, but I don’t know. There’s just something cool about Rossi in this season.”

The two of you remained silent for a few seconds. It wasn't awkward, but then again, nothing was with Natasha by your side. Even if you slipped and fell in front of her, you wouldn’t feel embarrassed. The woman never judged you, instead supporting your every decision while also guiding you through life. You felt comfortable enough with her to be yourself. At times it felt as though it was you and Nat against the world. 

“Maybe you just have daddy issues,” Natasha casually offered. Moment passed before the two of you burst out laughing. Tears sprinkled in your eyes while your breath left your body. With the amusement that basked in the room, you both were giggling messes. 

“Hey!” you huffed when gaining some of your composure back and lightly slapping Natasha’s shoulder. “We both have daddy issues.”

“Fine, but I have more than you. Mostly because I’ve never actually met my real dad. Maybe he’s an asshole like Alexei,” Natasha giggled. She never failed to look radiant as ever, especially when laughing and seemingly worry-free. You had to do several double takes because the beauty that exuded from your professor was far too enthralling to break away from. As the laughter died down and you were left holding one another, her head on your shoulder while you leaned back against the couch, she spoke. “I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N.” 

You had both agreed to keep things unofficial and yet there was that unmistakable skip of a beat your heart underwent when Natasha spoke her words. Teeth gnawed at your bottom lip nervously. There were striking green eyes which made it difficult for you to ignore the pegged comment. While your heart longed you to reply with a ‘yes’, to finally be Natasha’s forever, your mouth reacted differently. 

For the rest of the evening the two of you sat by and finished watching the show. Natasha was silent as she ghosted over her house, leaving you alone in the living room before hiding out in her bedroom. It was the first night in months that you slept in the guest room by yourself. And to your dismay, you went to sleep listening to Natasha’s quiet sobs that escaped the privacy of her bedroom. You had felt bad for Wanda when she got sad about you seeing your professor casually, but listening to the redhead’s woes was synonymous with your heart being squeezed to death. 

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

It was October when you fell in love. 

You returned to your dorm room days later behind the guise of assuming Natasha wished for you to be far away. She had barely spoken a word to you at work. Most of the time she sat by her desk with sagged shoulders, glasses perched at the edge of her nose, and glossy eyes hiding behind the frames. You desperately wished to say something, but when Wanda sweeped back into your life, the guilt ate at you until nothing was left behind. 

The Fall semester quickly rolled by. You were at the end of the month and still couldn’t sleep without seeing Natasha’s face tainted in your mind. At times when Wanda lay above you, hips thrusting with straps wrapped around them and letting out low grunts, you closed your eyes and imagined it was the older woman. The memories of her doing the same were soaked with humiliation. You had broken her heart, you knew. Never would you dare forgive yourself for having caused so much pain upon the frail, angelic woman. 

“I hate her so much,” Wanda had grumbled when you walked through campus hand-in-hand passing by a certain professor whose sight was solemnly trained on the floor. Your hand was squeezed as your eyes drifted to Natasha. As much as she seemingly hated you, all you wanted to do was run up to her, wrap her in your arms, and bed for forgiveness. Even if it would take ages, she was worth it. “Fucking bitch.”

Perhaps it was Wanda’s comment or the fact that you finally gained enough confidence through your depressive episode to take action, but that night you found yourself standing in front of Natasha’s house. Your roommate was long forgotten and for the first time in your life, you couldn’t care less about who she was fucking. All that mattered was the woman you, without admitting it, had fallen for. 

There was a desperate knock upon the hardwood door. There was furious rain which fell down upon your body. That along with the cool breeze of the night made you freeze in place. Still, you felt as though you deserved it. Even then, you’d do whatever it took for Natasha. 

“It’s 10pm on a Wednesday, Y/N. Someone better be dying,” were the first words Natasha spoke to you once the door swung open in a low grumbled voice you knew to be from when she awoke. “To what do I owe the displeasure? Did you come here to tell me how great Miss Maximoff is compared to-”

You cut her off by practically tackling Natasha into the house. Even if your body was dripping with the tears of the sky, you clung to the woman as though your life depended on it. She was clearly taken aback and yet never moved away. Instead her arms were left unmoving as you embraced her. That was good enough for you, you assumed. 

Putting your heart on the line has never been easy. You were the person who shoved her emotions so deep down that you somehow told yourself Wanda was the one for you. Although she hurt you so much, you still remained by her side. It wasn’t difficult to assume Natasha had felt something similar when you rejected her. She had spent countless months giving you the utmost love and never daring to ask for anything in return. You were always protected by her mere presence until one day you decided to throw it all away. Going to her house, you were without hope of being taken back. There was slight hesitation reeking in your chest, but as soon as you saw your former lover, you swore you fell for her once again – she would forever be worth it. 

“I’m the world’s biggest fucking idiot and I admit it. I should’ve said yes to you,” you began. Life had been tedious without Natasha even if only for a few weeks. You hated how only a cold slap in the face in the shape of one Wanda Maximoff could awaken you from such a dismal nightmare. “I hurt you so badly and I never, ever expect for you to take me back. I was an asshole. A svo-lach' if you will,” you could practically feel Natasha’s slight smirk at the mention of a Russian word she had taught you. “I miss you and I don’t think I can do this without you. It’s probably stupid since we weren’t with each other for ages. It wasn’t official and yet I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you to be my girlfriend. It’s always been you, Nat and it always will be.”

No words were spoken as the door was locked and you were dragged to the bedroom. Even if dripping with water, Natasha helped undress you. She threw you against the bed, viridescent eyes twinkling under the dead of the night before taking her rightful position over your body. There was not an area of your freezing body that she didn’t kiss her way through as sudden warmth radiated from her skin and onto yours. 

When you first kissed her after weeks of being away, you swore there were fireworks going off. Never had kissing Wanda felt even remotely good or similar. You were enthralled by the way Natasha was seemingly everywhere. Her hands drifted up your body before taking your breasts into her palms and squeezing them, nipples rolling through her fingers before being pinched – she did always have an adorable fixation on your chest. There was a sense of longing within her. The two of you hadn’t been together for far too long. During the rest of the night, you explored what was missed, holding one another as cries of pleasure were let out. 

Positions were switched from time to time. Natasha would be on top before you pushed her against the mattress and had your head disappear between her legs. There was nothing to be said. You two communicated through sweet and rough touches, connecting as one without the need for words. There was a moment when you made her squirt, legs shaking as your fingers were dug deep inside her cunt. Natasha was left wide-eyed and suddenly droopy while you lapped at the mess – even when a spent mess, she was the most beautiful woman in the universe. 

When neither of you could keep going it was already the early hours of the morning. Your bodies were sore and marked with the reddened tracks of fingernails. It was the first time in ages that you finally felt as though you belonged. Natasha was your person, she was safe, and she was home. It was then that you, while fingers trailed across the back of the woman’s hand, decided never to dare leave her again. 

“I love you,” she muttered once you were breathing raggedly, laying back on the bed with bodies intertwined and hearts aligned. You felt yourself crawl out of your skin, frowning as the words were spoken. Without even daring to turn around, you went to grab Natasha’s hand. When squeezing it, you gave her your response. 

You couldn’t say it out loud, but she knew then you loved her too.

[quartz-kilsviken]

I've been loving Written in the Runes! And then I saw your req. for one shot requests :3

How about JayVik/Baker!Reader and how they ask her to date them? I just feel in my bones it would be great.

Word of Mouth

➸Summary: Every day in your bakery is the same—cozy, filled with the comfort of sweet pastries and familiar faces—until Mrs. Talis, a regular, introduces you to her son, Jayce. What begins as harmless matchmaking soon becomes more complicated as you find yourself drawn to both Jayce and his partner, Viktor.

➸A/N: I work as a baker in a french pâtisserie so this being my first request is insane, I had a ton of fun writing this. Thank you for the idea I hope you like it!! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

➸Pairing: JayVik/Reader

➸Word Count: 2,148

➸Tags: Oneshot, Romace, Fluff, Jayce is so sweet he give me cavities

➸ Slow burn JayVik x reader series: Written in the Runes Link

Word of mouth is the heartbeat of your little shop. Each new customer feels like a gift, walking through the door because someone couldn’t stop talking about your cakes or how your shop feels like stepping into a warm memory. It always makes your heart swell, knowing that something you created meant enough for someone to share it. That’s exactly how your favorite regular had found her way to you months ago. Her presence had quickly become a welcome part of your days—kind, warm, and endlessly sweet, much like the cake you’re carefully packing for her now.

But today’s visit feels different. Her usual chatter has shifted into something... more pointed.

“He works at the academy,” she begins, her voice carrying a little too much enthusiasm. “Very responsible, incredibly smart, and—oh—such a gentleman.”

You pause, tilting your head at her with a knowing look. “I see what you’re doing, Mrs. Talis. Trying to marry me into your family for a discount, huh?”

She lets out a laugh, the kind that makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. “Handsome too,” she adds, digging into her purse, “though I admit I’m probably a little biased.”

Just as you’re reaching for the coins she’s pulled out, a photograph suddenly appears on the counter.

You pick it up, your fingers lingering on the edges as you squint at the image. The boy in the photo is all ears and a wide, toothy grin—he looks like he’s about to burst into laughter at any moment. You chew on your words before finally giving her a pointed stare.

“This is a child,” you say flatly.

“It’s a little old, I’ll admit,” she says, her smile unwavering. “But just picture him grown up.”

You try, but the playful face in the photograph refuses to transform into the image of a distinguished adult in your mind. It’s almost endearing how determined she is. With a soft laugh, you slide the photo back to her and scoop up just a few coins, pushing the rest toward her with a gentle nudge.

“How about this? I’ll just give you the discount, Miss Matchmaker,” you say, your voice light with amusement.

Her grin grows, the sparkle in her eyes showing just how much she’s enjoying herself. Despite the absurdity of it all, you can’t help but feel a certain fondness for her persistence.

It’s been about a month since her last visit, and now, with the coolness of autumn settling in, a breeze drifts through the shop every time the door opens. You feel it—the light rush of air—just before the soft chime of the bell rings through the quiet space. You hesitate, not wanting to break the flow of icing a cake, but when you look up, you pause.

A tall man stands just inside the door, slightly hunched, his eyes scanning the display case with an intensity, like he’s looking for something specific but isn’t quite sure what.

You take a breath and move toward him, offering your usual greeting, but the words falter the moment he smiles.

It hits you—this is what those big ears and that endearing gap-toothed smile look like on a grown man. Mrs. Talis hadn’t been the least bit biased—he’s striking, the kind of handsome that makes your heart skip a beat without warning.

“You’re Jayce!” you say, your excitement bubbling through before you can stop it. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and you take the chance to start packing his usual pastry, already knowing what he’ll want. Mrs. Talis never changes his order and besides, you’ve learned to pick out the perfect match for everyone’s tastes. His—a delicate fruit tart—suits him perfectly.

Jayce snaps out of his daze, his voice uncertain. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

You raise an eyebrow, the corners of your lips curving up into a playful smile. “No, but your mother’s mentioned you... once or twice.”

He rubs his hand over his face, the faintest trace of embarrassment creeping into his expression. “Only good things, I hope?”

“Great things actually,” you say with a grin. “How you’re a genius inventor, incredibly successful, a true gentleman... and, of course, ridiculously handsome.” The words come easily, but the sincerity behind them surprises you. His cheeks flush a little, and you can’t help but smile a little wider.

“I knew it,” he mutters, shaking his head lightly. “She’s been talking up a lot of people lately…”

You lean in a little closer, the teasing smile lingering. “So, I’ve got competition, huh? Tell me, where do I rank?”

“Well... I’d say you’re already pretty high, considering you can put up with my mom’s antics. But each pastry you give me might move you up a little more.” His smile is soft, and when his eyes meet yours, you feel something shift inside you—like the warmth of his gaze lingers a little longer than it should, making it hard to look away.

You slide the wrapped pastry toward him, watching the way his face brightens. You can’t deny the little flutter of something in your chest. He didn’t need to tell you what he wanted, and that small moment of connection fills your heart in a way you didn’t expect. But then he adds, “Actually, I was hoping you could help me with something else. I’m trying to figure out what to get my partner, but I honestly have no idea what he’d like.” He walks back over to the display case, continuing his search.

You watch him for a beat, feeling a small tug of curiosity. Partner. Interesting. “Tell me about this partner of yours,” you ask, your tone a little softer than before.

With each visit, Jayce shifted from just another regular customer to someone you genuinely looked forward to seeing. His stories about work, especially when he spoke passionately about his research, never failed to bring a smile to your face. Of course to keep climbing the ranks, you’d often offer him new cakes to try, many of them experimental recipes. He’d give detailed feedback, always thoughtful and constructive which you thoroughly appreciated. There was something warm about him, a presence that seemed to fill the shop, much like the comforting heat of your ovens. And then, there was Viktor. You’d heard enough about him to feel intrigued—the way Jayce’s face softened whenever he spoke his name, the quiet affection in his voice. The more you listened, the clearer it became: they were the perfect pair, a balance of intellect and heart.

On rainy days, when the shop was quiet and the soft pattering of rain against the window filled the space, you’d often lose track of time, swaying slightly to gentle music you play in the background. It was on one of those days that you didn’t notice the door open, too caught up in your own rhythm.

When your gaze finally lifted, you startled, lost your footing, and ended up flat on the floor, a bowl of flour spilling everywhere.

The man standing just inside the door waited patiently. Though he made a point to look at the wall, his small amused smile betrays his attempt to act as though he hadn’t noticed you.

You huff, scrambling to your feet and brushing flour off yourself as you stumble toward him. But when your eyes meet his, you have to stop yourself from tripping again.

Amber. There’s something in his gaze, a dancing light that draws you in. He doesn’t rush you, just waits quietly as you collect yourself.

You realize you’ve been staring and clear your throat, trying to regain some dignity. “Welcome in! How can I help you?”

He smiles softly, his eyes taking in the shop. “I can see why my partner likes to spend time here. It’s a lovely place.”

It’s the word partner that finally clicks, and you realize who he must be. “Did Jayce send you in here just so he could stay out of the rain?” you tease, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “If that’s the case, I’ll give you two cakes for making the journey—and none for him.”

He chuckles, the sound low and genuine. “I’m not sure any weather could keep him away. He seems quite fond of your pastries—” He hesitates, choosing his words carefully, “—and of you.”

His words hang in the air a little longer than you expect, and you feel a faint warmth spread across your face. But before you can come up with a response, he continues.

“I actually had a question for you.” You watch as his finger taps gently on the handle of his cane, the steady rhythm oddly mesmerizing. You realize, too late, that you’re staring—your thoughts briefly scattered, and you quickly try to pull yourself together. You really need to stop doing that before he notices.

You straighten, leaning a little closer to the counter, giving him your full attention. “What’s up?” Your voice comes out softer than you expected, but you can’t quite bring yourself to care.

And yes, Viktor definitely notices—the way you’re looking at him, your flour-dusted cheek giving you an effortlessly charming air. He can’t help but smile, disarmed by how easily you catch his attention. Quickly clearing his throat, he tries to stay focused. “Do you do delivery?”

You pause for a moment, eyes scanning the room as if deep in thought. “Possibly, but only for my favorite customer.”

“And would Jayce be considered your favorite?” Viktor asks, a little smile playing at the corners of his lip.

“Well, he was…” you say with a teasing glint. “But seeing as you didn’t comment on the fact that I fell on my face earlier, I’d say you’re starting to steal his title.”

—————————————————————

Viktors writing is neat, the directions written clearly show where you need to go but the halls of the Academy seem to be a labyrinth. The multiple boxes of pastry making the journey harder, almost missing the door to their lab.

Balancing the boxes, you knock softly on the door, hearing shuffling from inside. Moments later, it opens to reveal a familiar face, clearly surprised to see you. You can’t help but think you should deliver more often if it means seeing him again, bathed in the soft light of the academy. The lab’s warm hues highlight his features beautifully, and you’re grateful for the stack of boxes that hides your definitely-flushed cheeks. Your name slips out before a distant voice calls, “Don’t be rude, Jayce—let her in.”

Jayce thankfully unloads a few boxes, giving you a chance to take in the two men. Their attire is oddly formal for a night spent working in the lab. “What are you doing here? I mean— not that you’re not welcome. I actually planned on inviting you to our lab, but—” Viktor cuts him off with a gentle pat on Jayce's arm.

“I asked her, I thought it would be nice to indulge in a few pastries before the party. She kindly delivered for me, seeing as I am now her favorite customer.” You have to fight back laughing at the exchange, but especially how Jayce seems to be silently yelling at Viktor with his eyes.

“These are a lot of two people, especially since we’re supposed to leave in 10 minutes.” Viktor is practically glowing, his playful eyes meeting yours.

With a shake of his head, he skillfully morphs his expression into one of disappointment, “Ah— you’re right Jayce, how foolish of me, I supposed I should’ve planned this surprise better.” He locks eyes with you “Though, maybe it can be remedied… would you like to join us? We are just attending a fundraising party, I’m sure bringing your lovely pastries would be welcomed.”

You see exactly what he’s doing now, you can’t help but bite back a smart response “My pastries being there don’t require my attendance as well, Viktor, I don’t want to intrude.”

Jayce finally softens at that, with a shy smile “You wouldn’t be intruding, you’re always welcome.”

Viktor continues “Besides, it would be a great opportunity to get eyes on your business. We would certainly like some of the attention to be on someone else for a night.”

Between Jayce’s soft, hopeful eyes and Viktor’s playful gaze, you can’t help but accept. As Jayce steps out to retrieve something, you glance sideways at Viktor and murmur, “You’re worse than his mother.” A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips.

Viktor’s smile shifts into something knowing. “Ah, yes. She and I do have quite a bit in common.” You laugh, and when you glance up, you notice that his usual confidence has softened, just slightly. As he steps closer, there’s a brief hesitation in his eyes before he speaks, his tone light but carrying an edge. “While her intentions were all about him, I’ll admit at some point mine might’ve turned a bit more self-serving.”

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Okay so thought would Astarion just be uber happy if tav is just clinging to him and is like let me stay here where it is safe for just a little longer pleaseee

I think I'm feeling the energy. And it's an actual drabble instead of a novel! Cw: In-game references, spoilers, but this is just some fluffy fluff fluff.

~

When Astarion made the decision to seduce you, it had been based in cold rationality. In the short time he had known you, you had proven to be intelligent, capable, attractive enough for sex to not feel like a total burden, and extremely hard to kill. Using a falsified relationship to wrap you around his finger was the easy choice for survival. And it did work, with varying results.

Because you provided many, many complications. Like the unfortunate reality that Astarion quickly had grown sincerely fond of you. Not only were you impressively competent, you were fun. Hilariously bitchy in a way that never failed to make him laugh. But you were still kind, kind in a meaningful way that Astarion was simply not used to.

It had felt like a shock when you were so adamant about his right to be his own person. When you didn't make him bite that drow cretin he was struck with the realization that you actually cared about him. What that thing had been offering in return would no doubt have been useful to your journey, but you didn't even give it a second thought. And Astarion wouldn't soon forget how you saying, "He said no," with so much conviction had sent a shiver up his spine.

Perhaps the whole event sent him into a tailspin that ended with him admitting his, in-hindsight, horrible plan, but it had been worth it in the end. Gods knows why, but you didn't abandon him when he revealed the truth. You just listened. You listened and opened up your mind for him to see just how much you cared for him. A care he perhaps didn't deserve, but one he would take. Even if he had no idea what the two of you were doing anymore.

But he did know that something shifted in your relationship after that, the birth of a new kind of trust. Apparently, Astarion hadn't been the only one holding back.

Because seemingly overnight, you got a lot more touchy. A facet of yourself that he really had not seen coming. Not sexually, no. You had been nothing but a dream when it came to understanding the hang-ups he had with that particular topic. But you did suddenly decide that you loved holding hands. You loved hugging him, for no reason at all. The two of you went from the occasional night together before parting ways to simply sharing a tent. And gods were you a cuddler. Every morning he would wake up with you wrapped around him, peaceful and at ease as you slept in his arms.

And... it was nice. Really, really nice. Astarion had always assumed that he would loathe being with someone who was so tactile. But it turned out when every little touch wasn't leading to mediocre and/or horrifying sex they were actually quite enjoyable. It felt good to have you so close, to know that you felt safe and comfortable with him of all people. Nice enough for Astarion to slowly get addicted to it. He wasn't quite sure when his favorite past time became reading while you laid on top of him, but he knew it claimed to top spot with startlingly speed.

Even now, with Cazador still looming, the tadpoles still squirming behind your eyes, worries and responsibilities abound, Astarion felt completely at peace. He was laying flat on his back on his bed roll, a book in one hand and the other carefully petting your hair as you dozed off; your body completely draped over him. He'd have to wake you sooner than later. Baldur's Gate was only a day's journey away now, and if you wanted to make it there before nightfall then everyone would have to get moving. He could already hear the sound of the others shuffling about.

He snapped his book shut, setting it to the side before he gently shook you, "It's time to rise and shine darling, Baldur's Gate won't be saving itself."

You mumbled as you buried your face into his chest, your words slurred, "Don't wanna. Too early."

That was another change with this newfound phase of trust. Astarion had become the only person who knew your little secret of not being a morning person. In the first few moments of wakefulness, you were at your clingiest, your whiniest, surprisingly your most honest, and arguably your most adorable state of the day. A fact that you actively hid from the rest of the group out of sheer embarrassment, but Astarion thought it was cute.

Not to mention that it made him feel special, oddly enough. That he was the only one who was allowed to see you like this; who could take care of you like this.

Astarion laughed at your response, "Tell that to the sun sweetheart. It's high-time we got going."

Despite his own words, he wasn't really doing much to move the process along. If anything he was hindering it when he wrapped his arms around you, only helping to make you more comfortable instead of less.

But then again, maybe he wasn't quite ready to let you go yet either.

You shook your head against him, your hands tightening on the fabric of his shirt, "Le'mme stay, just a little longer."

"That's easy for you to say when you're not the one to get Lae'zel's wrath," Astarion lightly argued, still making no moves to actually hurry this process along. But it was true, Lae'zel always blamed your lateness on him, her favoritism towards you blatantly obvious. The bitch. But at least she was a bitch with good taste, "I would prefer not to be murdered by a gith for being tardy."

But you were already back to being half-asleep, your internal filter completely disintegrated as you mumbled, "Feels safe here, with you. Don't wanna let it go yet. Please?"

Gods, how the in the nine hells was Astarion supposed to say no to that? He didn't. Instead the grip he had on you only tightened, the happy little sigh you let out at the movement striking him straight through the heart. He felt so... happy in that moment, through nothing more than the simplicity of holding you. Because you trusted him. You felt safe with him, which might as well have been a love confession in Astarion's world. It felt so good to have this, an intimacy that he'd been denied for centuries.

Astarion settled back, letting his own eyes close as he smiled. The others would get the two of you eventually, but until then he wasn't going anywhere. No, the two of you would be staying right here.

[fanged-fanfics]

Creatures Commandos platonic request, can you do Dr. Phosphorus x Child! Venom Reader (the only difference between them and OG Venom is that they can withstand extreme heat.), I need this radioactive skeleton man to be a dad again.

Y/N was abandoned by their family as a toddler, which gave them extreme abandonment issues, they get attached to Phosphorus and he lets them because they can touch him and he misses being a dad. You cannot tell me that he DOESN’T miss being a dad.

☆ Of Flames And Little Flickers — Dr. Phosphorus & Venom!GN Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Fluff, Familial || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Pokolistan wasn't exactly the worst place to bring a kid, most figured. But most people weren't on a mission to keep an insane purple villainess from tearing up the local government. Phosphorus didn't exactly find the idea of you tagging along to be a fond one— he loved having you around, but this could easily become an assassination mission at the flip of a dime. Considering what you had to go through before, he didn't wanna risk you getting any more hurt. But your abilities were deemed too valuable to go without, so there you were, traveling locked up in the same car with the rest of the monsters.

The long plane trip gave you jetlag more than anything, and you didn't manage to get good sleep after being dragged out so early to get on the flight. After Phosphorus forcefully positioned Weasel to the other side of the car, he made sure you could sit beside him. You were in a staring contest with GI Robot before Phosphorus gently nudged you, pointing out to the window behind his head. "See all that, kid? It's riding on your slimy little shoulders to keep all that from blowing up" he said. He made a motion with his hands to mimic a combustion, flaring a little brighter as he made the sound effect himself. You laughed at the display, and he chuckled while rubbing the top of your head.

"Not too worn out, yeah? We got a big day protecting this princess" he asked you. You shook your head "Nuh-uh. It's just... early". "Well, it's midday by now, kid, a little too late for 'early'" Phosphorus responded back. You groaned, sitting back in your seat "Why did it feel like we got dragged out so soon?" You complained. "Timezones, bud" Phosphorus said "Had to get up early to be here on time. It's a whole new country". You paused, soaking in the reminder of the unfamiliar landscape. You scooted closer to him, grabbing hold of his sleeve. Phosphorus wrapped his arm around you in return. Jeez, it'd been 15 years since he was able to have this. Someone who could stand to be near him, and who actually trusted him enough to lean on.

"You getting tired there, little hellraiser?" He asked, seeing you beginning to nod off. You stubbornly shook your head, mumbling in protest. He chuckled once more, pulling you up close to his side. To the average person, it was deeply scalding and searing to the touch. But to you, it was like being pressed against the warmest heater that could ever be offered. Your wide eyes slowly fall shut, feeling the comforting repetitive motion of Phosphorus petting your back to soothe you. Your head falls onto his form, using him as a foundation to lean on. He'd been that ever since you arrived, really. Support, stability, a shoulder or hand to reach out to. A jaded and crude support beam at times, sure, but he did his best to conduct himself at least a little bit around you.

While you slowly drifted to sleep, Phosphorus kept his gaze on you, seeing how you were able to relax against him. It was a familiar sight, one that made what was left of his heart ache. He looked up, seeing Bride not far at all taking note of it as well. He held a finger over where his mouth used to be to signify quiet. The stitched lady gave a sigh that showed she wasn't very impressed but, well, when was she ever? Phosphorus moved his coat to wrap it around your shoulders for extra protection, using a hand to shield you from the sun. He gently pet your back a bit more before simply keeping his gaze looking around for you both. No one could tell except for Phosphorus himself, but this time, he really was smiling.

[neonovember]

I have a sort of angsty hurt to comfort idea for Carmy 😈 Okay but Claire coming back into his life and obviously you’re both dating, but maybe sort of feeling a little bit left out and feeling guilty for feeling a little insecure because you know Carmen’s loyal and Claire seems like a lovely person. Not saying anything because you obviously want him to be happy and you know there’s a part of you that’s being irrational. But THEN, maybe for whatever you also personally know Luca! Perhaps from something work related or had mutual friends and then maybe getting back into contact with him through Marcus and really hitting it off with him and having a respectable normal healthy friendship with him, but Carmy’s on the side going “What the cinnamon toast FUCK is this”. And it culminates in an argument which ultimately leads the both of you to opening up and discussing boundaries and airing out insecurities, and just being super vulnerable and communicating with one another

Love and War (I)

warnings; claire, arguing, threats of violence, anxiety, my writing

i had like 4 different versions of how this story was supposed to go, hope you enjoy the one i finally let see the sun

a/n: yeah...so shit hit the fan and kind of derailed my life for 6 months. I hope you will forgive me, i feel like an absentee father. (part two will be posting right after i swear!)

divider by @firefly-graphics

You aren't jealous.

You have never experienced the slimy green devil in any of your past relationships, so you shouldn't feel it now.

Your mind isn't fond of what it should feel however, and instead, you feel a burning ache begin to burst through your chest as you watch Carmen nod excitedly at Claire in the Beef’s front dining space. It disgusts you, how this feeling wraps around your heart like sludge. You've been trying to focus on prepping for the new menu, gathering different ensembles of compotes and sauces, but your eyes always finds it’s way back to them.

And her.

Claire had burst into Carmen’s life seemingly out of nowhere, and it took one exchange between you both to know it was different. Claire had something you didn't with Carmen, a past, and the discomforting feeling of being on the outside looking in was all that blared in your mind the past few weeks since her appearance.

It wasn’t like Claire was rude, no that would have made this feeling easier to bear. She was nice, for god sake. The only person in Chicago who it seemed had not yet gotten all their goodness sucked out, and she had to have been Carmen's old friend. And a friend was all she was, so why did you- why are you jealous?

She knows him better than you do.

You shake the thought out of your mind so furiously the container in your hand spills onto the cutting board. You weren't going to go there, not when Carmen hadn't done anything wrong.

 You wanted him to have friends, to broaden his circle from beyond just the Beef and Sugar, who you made sure to point out didn't exactly count. So you should be happy, ecstatic even, that he was able to reconnect with someone that had known him for so long.

But she had known him for so long. 

And you know you're being irrational and hypocritical and you know you can’t own someone else, but maybe there was a part of you that liked that you had him all to yourself.

Carmen was different. To your other relationships, your other friendships, everything. You and Carmen danced around your feelings for so long that when it exploded into heated kisses and confessions of love one night after a dazzling dinner service, it had already felt like you had been with him for years.

And Carmen was devoted to you, he sang it into your skin every chance he got. It was just that those chances had begun to dwindle day after day the more Claire came around, until you had begun to detest the sound of her name leaving his mouth.

Steeping your fingers in cold water, you wipe them hastily no your aprosn before making your way over to them both. Fixing your face from quivering lips into a tight smile.

You wipe your messy hands in your apron, steeping your fingers before making your way over to them both. Fixing your face, you pull your quivering lips into a tight smile.

“Hey, Claire. How are you doing?” 

“Oh hey! Good good, Carmen was just telling me about this cool hole in the wall down 85th.”

“Ruth’s Bar?”

“Yes! That’s the one. They really do saffron popcorn there?” Claire replies, eyes bulging.

“Yep, mix it in with a little alcohol and then pour it into the butter. Entertainment is almost too good that you forgot about how amazing it smells though”

“We should go out some time!”

“Definitely. Carmen, were you alright with Thai tonight?”

“Oh” Carmen replies, scratching the back of his head

He forgot.

“Yeah, sorry hun I promised to take Claire to-”

“This new fusion place! I saw it online and Carmen offered to take me.

You voice pitter and curls as you gulp down the innate urge to reply with a deadpan ‘What?”.

“Oh. Ah- okay. What’s the place?” You reply, your voice on the verge of shaky as you blink through Claire, watching to see if there was any semblance of guilt in Carmen.

There wasn't, he was taking her out on a night reserved for you to. As if they hadn't spent nearly everyday together, as if Claire hadn’t imprinted her ass on the bar chair’s sharing pieces of things you never could with him.

“It’s called Route Creale?” Claire replies, excitedly, obviously to the sour expression on your face as she butchers the name of the restaurant.

“La Route Créole” You correct, almost unconsciously. 

Practiced from the amount of times you had excitedly to Carmen about the Trinidan-French fusion place, looking through the menu together, huddled over your cracked phone screen in the early morning in your bed. Listing of dishes and dishes that made you squeal in delight. 

You had told Carmen how bad you wanted to go, how bad you wanted both of you to try it together, and instead, instead he takes her. 

He takes her.

“Easy, not everyone has spent months as the head Poissonnier in Port Of Spain” Carmen jokes, head tilting as you stammer, eyes focused on the floor.

“What the hell is a Poissonnier” Claire replies giggling

And as Carmen clarified to her, gripping her arm as he rambles on the importance of the distribution of fucking cooking stations your mind kind of skips.

It falls over itself like a misshapen piece of the sidewalk. Your eyebrows are screwed and you're looking at Carmen looking at Claire. For a second you are confused, wholeheartedly and entirely confused to the very marrow of your being. Who was this person in front of you? It couldn’t have been your Carmen.

Your Carmen who wrote you letters left on food packages and stuffed in your locker. Your Carmen who would follow you around like a lost puppy, enthralled by your every move. Your Carmen who sung you to sleep in horrible drunken renditions of “Livin on a prayer”.

Jesus he knew every part of you, every inch of yourself like a road map, forks and branched  roots across your skin. You hug your mid section tightly, fingers digging through the cotton of your button chef shirt.

No, no. Someone must have come in and taken his face, his clothes, his mouth.

But he smells like him, the same deep scent of cocoa and burnt cigarettes. You could press your lips to his, but you don’t know if he’d like that anymore. 

You know when someone is slipping away, you’re not one to guard your food like a stray dog. And no matter how hard you want to sink your teeth into him and not let go, you don’t have a choice.

The squealed sound of Claire rips you from your reverie, and your eyes shoot up to catch her grip Carmen's shoulder, her head tilted back and eyes squirmed shut in laughter. The ripple of jealous rage that bursts through every limb in your body causes you to subtly turn on your heel, rushing out of the suffocating stench of betrayal. 

Fingers digging to unlace your apron that feels as if like a vice around your chest, unheard to the inquisitive shouts of Richie and Syd, until you hear the slam of the backdoor behind you.

Your leg jitters as you walk around in circles, grinding your jaw as visions of Claire and Carmen flash in your mind. Fisting the washcloth in your hand till your knuckles turn white, you stuff your face into it, masking the scream of festered anger that rips from your throat. 

You’re pathetic, you don't get to feel jealous. Carmen would never even think of it, of betraying you. But he also wouldn't have taken the very restaurant you had been gawking at for the past month and taken someone else to it. Right in your face.

You don’t know if he even noticed your abrupt disappearance, your eyes shift to the door, waiting, hoping. Ears perked up at any sound of rushing footsteps to come find you. 

Angry tears gather at the waterline when all you hear is the rumbling traffic behind you and the flutter of shrikes above.

You’re not jealous, you’re fuming

You hate it, no, you hate him. You seethe as you're forced to sit in it pushing the adoration and love you have for him to make room for it in your mind. It takes over, overcrowding your brain till you can't hear anything else, where even the buzzing of your phone is unregistered till your thigh begins to itch.

Oh god you told him about those times before, you told him. And he had wiped your tears and kissed your eyelids, damning your past boyfriend who had left you forsaken.

Wiping a hand across your face, you reach down to grasp the metallic slick edges. And the image of Luca flashing across the screen stumps you frozen till it rings out. You hadn't seen him since Denmark, in fact it had been years.

The ping of a text shakes you from the memories of spending months on boats and pastry kitchens in Copenhagen, the gray bubbles appearing on your screen.

“Gonna be in Chicago for a bit, wanna test out if your Mille-Feuille is still up to standard?”

You want to say that you answered Lucas' text in that brief moment out of genuine curiosity. That you would have wanted to see him whether Clair had uprooted your life with Carmen either way.

But you’d be lying to yourself.

The slight drizzle drips down your screen phone, muddying and blurring the Lucas texts till you have to wipe your shirt across it. You hesitate though, you think the blurred messages between you both absolves you of guilt. That it was as if you were lookin through pane fogged glass. But you slide your hand across the screen and it brightens to your eyes, defying every word between you both. You want to see Luca, Carmen had no hesitation when it came to Claire, oh no, he wouldn't think twice before spending the day with her. 

Days like today, where you would usually be posted up in Carmens old beaten leather couch, the cushions weaning under your weight as you ate rice steeped in coconut milk and kung pao on plates.

It’s tradition, or it once was. So much of what you held close to your heart had been left to ruins, maimed and disfigured. Pulled from under you when you had thought it sacred, you should have expected this, it was too good. You’ve stewed in your deprecation look enough till it turned bitter, outpouring harsh streaks of anger from your heart instead.

You helped Sydney finish up the last of the next evening's desserts, waving her off with a smile when she had asked about your sudden departure earlier. She ignored the way your hands shook, and you reached for your things and rushed home before she could prod further.

You felt dirty.

Like Carmen was replacing you slowly, out from under you. Did he think you were too stupid to realise? You don’t want to imagine the things shared between them, and yet you do. Scrubbing your skin raw in the shower does little to scratch the memory of them out of your mind.

You’re resting on the edge of your bed, clutching your towel as you look towards your closet. Phone in hand at Lucas' text inviting you to dinner at his place, you turn Carmen’s picture on the dresser face down before reaching into your closet, and pulling out a dress you had forgotten existed.

When you slide the silk fabric onto your body, it feels anew. Like you were a different skin. It flutters at the edges of your calf, long and rich in colour in elegance.

Your hair is left in its natural state, running some products through with your fingers till the sticky crème is gone from between your knuckles. Carmen always loved your hair this way.

So did Luca.

Your time spent in Copenhagen didn't necessarily involve Luca, not at the start anyways. You were reviewing foods around Denmark, a long awaited food tour you had begun saving for before culinary school, and had made a pit stop at a weathered bakery. 

It wasn't on your repertoire for your trip, in fact you had thought nothing of it, a transitional spot to grab an espresso and maybe a danish.  It had seen better days. The wooden doors stained and creaking as you passed through, inside though, inside was as if you had entered the warmth of someone's heart and soul. Delicate paintings and familial photographs hang on the walls, low lamp lighting, a built-in fireplace that defrosts your fingers wedged in your coat pocket.

The most strange and endearing thing, however, was the bar attached on the same counter as the paned glass display of baked goods. In all your time in food, you had never seen a bakery that doubled as a..brewery? Distilled barrels hitched atop the caramel coloured walls, jugs and glasses perched atop the counter. You weren't necessarily a drinker per se, but the thought of filling your stomach with liquid heat pushed you to shut the door behind you and set your things on the bar counter.

“Now what makes someone as sunny as you walk into the most haggard bakery in all of Copenhagen?” A Brooklyn lilt voice calls from the small entryway into the back kitchen, a tall blonde man wipes his hand on a dishcloth, the tired features of cooking for hours you know to well etched on his face.

You stand right in surprise, you half heartedly expect the embodiment of Hagrid to walk out, and instead New York came bustling through. 

“You sure you aren't lost sweetheart? Lookin’ for Noma?”

“I’m told I can get a pint of something hard and dry with my croissant” You murmur, cockling your head to the side “Or does this fine establishment not know how to laminate dough?”

From that moment on, you had spent almost every day in Denmark being guided to the “actually” good food spot in the city. You wanted to deny it, holding your list of restaurants and bakeries you had died to try since your trip to your chest like a rare jewel.

But God did those alleyway Frikadeller’s taste like religion. You wanted to fall to your knees and pledge your devotion.

Still, after you had draine the last of your savings on cider and meatballs your craft was calling to you from the States. Luca had told you things you had not even read in the mountain of textbooks and ‘Pastry 2’ tutorials you were assigned as a student, marveling at the intricacy of pastry and the world of dough.

He had mentioned a Chef he admired, one he wanted you to meet yourself. You wondered all those months who could have bested Luca. 

And then you met Carmen.

Time and distance had feathered the brief but all consuming intimacy you and Luca shared. It wasn't like you had shared a bed together, no, it was far more deeper than that. You both shared the unraveling layers of your joint obsession;

Food.

It tethered you to each other so finely that even now, after years of no contact, you knew you would fall back into the same rhythmic dance you once had those years before.

It shakes the nerves from your body when you finally rack your knuckles against Luca’s restaurant door.

“Comin, comin, don’t break down the door” Luca’s silky voice laments from deep within the restaurant, before the iron door opens and you’re met with golden streaked hair and a wine stained apron.

“Why is it that every time I see you, you've got something stained on your face” You smile

“It’s the Lucas charm, what can I say” or “Oh please, you eat whatever caused those stains.”

“You say this now, but you’ll be praying to these stains when you taste you’re menu tonight” Lucas smirks

You chuckle shaking your head, before Lucas pulls you into a hug

“4 years and you still smell the same”

“You know I'm a women of routine, like the same bottle of perfume and my eggs-”

“Over easy, yeah yeah.”

“You know me so well!”

“No I just can’t get the smell of sunflowers from out my nose even years later”

“I paid a pretty penny for it, it should be fucking ever lasting”

Lucas shakes his head in a smile, and flashes of stomach pained laughter in pebbled alleyways and chef’s kitchens lights up your mind.

“What are you doing over here Luca?”

“A friend who works in restaurant business asked me to help get one of his locations up and runnin’ in Chicago” Luca replies

You follow him through drywall and scaffolding poles, catching the beginnings of the seating area as you observe the paint swatches on walls . The menu does always comes first.

“And this is you up and running? Conducting mini-master classes for old friends” You joke

“Mhm, don’t think we can classify ourselves as old friends just yet. It was just yesterday the last I saw you.” Luca replies in ponder

“Right, that must be all the gas fumes from looming over sauce pans for eons going to your brain. You do know nobody forced you to make that 36 hour long creme brulee right?” You tease

Lucas fights a giggle as he remembers the dish he had slaved over two nights, “And that sauce earned me a damn near Michelin Star.” 

“Yeah, you probably should've been awarded a Nobel Prize for that” You admit, leaning against the stainless steel table counter of the central kitchen.

“Heard you started working with Carmen, he's good isn't he?”

The brick that had begun to dislodge from your throat slips back in, gulping down an uneasy breath as you give him a tight smile.

“It’s wonderful, he's really something” You murmur, thanking the gods that Lucas was too busy rummaging around the fridge to notice your features melting into malice.

“I wanted to keep this a secret, but who am I kidding. Come, I wanna show you something”

Lucas comes over, rolling your eyes as he makes you take off your coat. Hes eyes skim down your figure fast enough for you not to notice, but you feel him linger gently grasping the cotton of you fleece before hooking it onto a door handle.

To your surprise he pulls out a crisp chef apron, nodding with wide eyes as you stare at him baffled.

“Do you think my text was a joke? C’mon I know you, you would've been sitting there working yourself up not being able to get your hands dirty”

You chuckle sheepishly as you agree, cooking was your life. Even if you had gotten out of a 24 hour day you’d still sore your bones over a good meal. Especially with Luca.

You walk over to him, noting the papers scattered on the table counter and a laptop opened, the light streaming in. It’s opened to a leasing site, a run down appliance store who’s store wide sale had begun peeling off the windows.

“What's this?” You murmur, confusion in your voice as your eyes jump over the listing description quickly

“This is a home furniture store”

"Yes I gathered that from the block letters Luca, what does it mean?” You look over Luca whos grinning widely at you

“You know this used to be an old mill factory? The ones they'd make 7 year old work 20 hour shifts on?” Luca continues

“Have you turned into an anthropologist? Is this what this is? You takin’ a career change this late in the game old man?” You tease.

Luca doesn't laugh, he doesn't even roll his eyes, he just continues grinning ear to ear. You’re suddenly afraid he’s body has been tossed in a dumpster in Frederiksberg and this is his body double.

“It was practically a bakery, sweets. Who better than me to bring it back to its roots?” Luca replies finally as you were considering the best option to escape through the fire exit

You’re stumped before it dawns on you, Luca is gonna open his own bakery? Restaurant? You weren't clear as to what it was going to be exactly but you knew by the look of excitement on his face that it was his.

“You and goddamn rundown buildings” You shake your head, as Luca looks at you with a stupid smile, you can't help but let out a laugh.

“Tis only right I tell the person who saw me sweating in that furnace heated bakery in Denmark daring. It’s fate, and you know it” Luca replies

You chuckle, before bursting in excited laughter, oh you were so happy. You were, it had been his dream, to bring back some of heart that had been left in that flour room when he had come back to the States

You grab his hands, holding them tightly, reaching for his face and jaw and bringing him to your chest with adoration.

“Oh Luca, really? You did it?” You grin and he gazes down at you in sheepish resignation.

“Already put down the payment. Drained half my bank account so I’m going to have to DIY the architecture, and just engineer structure of the place but I dont care.” He chuckles

“Who cares about structural support when they taste that 36 hour creme bulee huh?” You chime, teasing.

You let go of his face but he grabs your wrist tightly,

“I want you to join me.”

You heart stills for a second, and you don't know if its the rush of nostalgia or the anger over Carmen that fights over your tongue to say

“Yes”

“I know you've got a good thing going with Carmen, and it won't interfere with that-”

Luca stammers before stopping abruptly, raising his eyebrows in confusion at your reply. He cocks his head to the side

“It’s fine, I can leave the Beef and help open it up with you”

“Woah woah wait a second, I didn't say leave Carmen-”

“That DIY job isn't going to be a one man job, besides I’m not that valuable there really, just help around here and there. Carmen could do without me to be honest, one less person to pay ya know? It's fine really” It your turn to ramble incessantly, slipping the resentment against Carmen and Calire through your jumbled reply

“Yeah? Is that why you're balling your fists?”

You look to Luca, whose eyes zero in on your shaking hands. You put them behind you quickly, self conscious as you bite your lip.

“You and I both know when you’re runnin’ from something. You really think you can hide things from me of all people?

“You don't want me working for you Luca? I just said I’d leave what I'm doing to do this with you”

“And I want you too, but I also know it's been a dream to work with someone as talented as Carmen”

“Yeah real fucking talented” 

Luca looks at you, squinting his eyes

“I’ve talked to him you know” He murmurs softly, eyes still strained on you

“What?” You scoff, shaking your head

“And the way he gushes about you tells me enough. He damn near sounded like he was going to jump through the phone and ring my neck after I had told him I knew you before. The way he says your name? Tell me you're not just an employee, and the menu I’m hearing all around the city? Lavender and hazelnut? Lime and pistachios? That's all you. Even if you don't know it, you've imprinted yourself into that place and every dish Chicago is raving about” Luca replies, and his voice is low and his eyes are wide as he looks at you can’t not ignore him.

“I know you don't give up easily, and I’m not trying to play mediator, but just- think on it okay? You're going to be a part of this, that is certain. But you're a part of a lot okay? Being the head sous chef is nothing to what they’d make us do back in New York and you know it.”

You're about to bite back a reply before Luca raises his eyebrows, as if he's already as an onslaught of resorts to everything you have to say. You resign yourself to the fact; Luca knows you damn near better than yourself.

“Okay, I’ll think on it. Having you suffer a little without me is a nice image anyways” You reply, rolling your eyes as you tighten your apron. 

Luca chuckles as he shakes his head, motioning you to help start making your dinner.

The sounds of sizzling pans and braised meat left your stomach full and your heart heavy hours later. The heated argument you had with Luca seemed hours ago when you both had let the food bring you back into synchronization. 

You both sat criss cross on the unfurnished dining room floor, a plastic tarp underneath you both as you gorged yourself on duck, potatoes and cheap wine. You regret ever hesitating meeting with Luca, and you suppose you should thank Carmen for that.

Luca knows it's weighing heavy on your mind as he eyes you across the kitchen, wrapping up some leftovers for you. You shake your head as you gaze at him, giving him a reassuring smile that you know he doesn't believe. 

“If it all goes wrong you know you can come to me, anytime anywhere” Luca whispers into your ear as you fall into a tight embrace.

“Getting pretty tired of running my whole life Luca, god I just want to rest.”

“Then let yourself”

The uber comes and you kiss Luca goodbye as he bundles you into the backseat, the shower earlier has now filtered into a slight drizzle and you watch the slow rain drops glide down the window languidly. 

You didn’t want Carmen to be home when you arrived, but the thought of him being out with her this late had you gritting your teeth. You didn't know what you wanted.

taglist

@hansfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @parmforcarm @nolita-fairytale

[adeleidetheexplorer]

ᰋ  ׅ࣪   ꒰  minors dni 18+ pac reading detailed ♡︎ your future spouse/lover vs public affection and sex   ꒱  

01. 02. 03.

disclaimer : this 18+ reading was made for adult audiences. it contains adult language and content and it may not suitable for minors and may not be for some adult readers. read at your own risk and be open-minded. *chuu*

01

cards: 60C, fool, KoP, NoC, lovers.

your future person would definitely love that idea. they find it attractive when someone is innocent or plays innocent in bed. someone who is soft and virgin, someone who is inexperience when it comes to this kind of area. they want a type of sex where an emotional bond is present with their lover. they love doing it on the balcony, in the forest or somewhere on higher places. this person who can physically please you until the end of fondness, they prefer diligent, slow and erotic affection and the lust and desired you are longing and looking for a partner to satisfy you during and after. if you are horny and looking for someone to please you well you can rely upon on them. public affection and sex's will incredible with them. you can show off some of your desires with them, this connection is about exploring new things and let to unfold each other's desire of fantasies. with them, you will experience: unwavering compassion, intense sexual energy, a close bond, and a love that's beyond human can imagine.

02

cards: SoS, PoS, Justice, 100S, WoF.

they definitely don't like that idea, moreover, they would feel nervous about that. this person is afraid being arrested for public nudity, they think it's not so cool. they likely raise an eyebrow everytime you ask about that to them, it's like: "are you out of your mind, honey?". thinking about public sex makes them feel embarrassed but i neither figuring you too enjoying public sex but affection? yes, you two are go for it. but for the sex thing in public you both prefer doing it privately, they like being sub-dom because sometimes they let you to take over them, there's something stopping them to fully take over you. this is someone who likes to play and be naughty before actually doing it. they're bold and wild when you two doing it privately, they like watching you over while you are pleasuring yourself: masturbating or having arousal about them. bondage, spanking, handcuffs and collecting sex toys are some of their deep desires that they wanted to do with their lover. Unprotected and breeding sex is likely to happen here. In public places, their ways of showing affection is like sitting close besides each other's in a bench park, theater or lying on the same space while having picnic something along with these lines.

03

cards: PoW, 20C, KoW, 30C, NOP + AoC.

they fine with it but not too showy when it comes to this kind of areas, someone who act as if they wouldn't care but they kinda feel of excited about it. this person is like a shy type person. someone who is secretive about their fantasies, i don't think they will show it up to you as their partner because they're to embarrassed and shy to do that. typically, you wouldn't know what will happen next when you have sex with them but they prefer to initiate the intimacy. they like looking so seductive and elegant when it comes in the bed. before, this passionate sex happen there's a little chit chats and drinking might happen. if i'm not mistaken they do like comfortable sex, kisses and hugs rather than being harsh towards their partner. they do want their own partner to feel this very deep emotion while doing it. this is like a connection of friends to lovers. having physical intimacy with them makes you feel wanted to do more multiple times, you will desire for their touch and kisses. you can't get enough for the passion that happening between you and them under this red-hot feeling.

©thecelestialperiwinkle

[one-piece-aus]

What would marriage life would be like with the seven warlords?

This is an old anon request, I do apologize for not getting to it sooner but here we go

What Marriage Life Would Be Like With the Seven Warlords (Headcanons)

It's pretty chill being married to Mihawk

Y'all just vibe in a mansion on an isolated island

I imagine Mihawk is a person of quality time and acts of service so the two of you would often spend time together

Whether it's reading in your library or cooking dinner for each other, every moment you do together and action you do for him is cherished in Mihawk's heart, even if he doesn't mention it

He makes sure you're healthy and well (eating properly, making sure you get your sleep)

This man will be able to instantly tell if your state is the slightest bit off and will not hesitate to voice his concern

He is not opposed to having children, the idea might amuse him

In fact, after Zoro and Perona had made their appearance, Mihawk grew fond of the idea taking care of his own child, even if they would be irritating at times

Btw, Zoro and Perona think you two act like an old married couple ❤

Only way this would be possible is if you are someone like Luffy

She might not understand exactly what marriage life means but she will do her best to make you happy

She is going to cook for you and feed you

She will bathe you and make sure you have the best clothes to wear

And she will order the best doctors to bring you back to your best health if you get sick

She is taking ✨amazing✨ care of you

The two of you are just living the life of luxury regardless of where you choose to live because you two are together and happy

You will not have kids (for a number of reasons that I will not get into because this is supposed to be a fun post)

Alright, I had no idea what to do for Moria so I asked @ask-the-night-crowl for these headcanons, thank you again Snugs

In a marriage, Moria would totally rely on his partner to fulfill all the duties he has/ should be responsible for. Granted, the other mysterious four already take over most of those, but someone has to keep them all in check.

His spouse better not be aversed by his crew, because for as much as he says he doesn't care about these idiots, he would also face death to protect them.

Unless him and his s/o have known eachother for a pretty long time, he'll try to keep them at an arm's length. Not necessarily because they don't have good enough of a connection, but the idea of loss is always on his mind.

He doesn't mind affection. In fact, he'll back-handedly seek it out by annoying his s/o until they give him attention if he so desires. He's pretty much like an oversized cat.

On the other hand, you'll also have to be prepared not to see him for days on end, because of his sleeping habits (Again, like a cat).

But in that time, cuddling with him is totally fine, because once that man is out, he sleeps like a rock.

His frequent nightmares might lead to the conclusion that comforting him would be the answer. But he hates the idea of being treated as weak as that and would much rather appreaciate the mere presence of his s/o when he wakes up next to them.

In contrast, he'll offer the same to his s/o when they feel down and would have an immediate (even petty) grudge against anyone harming them.

Staying in with him at a fireplace, drinking fancy wines and making fun of the other warlords would be his favorite way to spend time when he's awake for once.

If the spouse is good at cooking, you can bet they'll become his personal chef - after all, love goes through the stomach amirite.

If you're marrying Doffy, his family comes as a package deal, you can't have him without it, that being said, he expects you to get along with them (you can tolerate them instead but just don't let him notice)

Of course, he will expect you to take care of Baby 5, Buffalo, and Dellinger as if they were your children, he is open to making blood offsprings, but never put them before him

Doffy is your number 1 priority, whatever he says goes

But just because he's demanding doesn't mean he won't show you affection, in fact, most of his demands is just him wanting to give or receive affection

You are showed in gifts and luxury, he is the king of Dressrosa afterall, your word has every weight as his own since your are his queen

He is proud to show off his spouse, you are his most prized possession after all

However, you are more than just a trophy, after the loss of his dear mother and brother, he holds you close and tells you how dear you are to him every night

You are often woken up in the middle of the night due to his rustling from nightmares, just hold him to calm him down

Crocodile keeps you in the dark about his work, for all you know, he is a casino owner in Alabasta that keeps the people safe from pirates since he's a warlord

He takes you out for a stroll around in the evening, outside to admire the stars, or in the casino where your every need is met

He doesn't show affection in public but his gestures do show you belong to him and no one else

He keeps you company in bed at night until you fall asleep but when you wake up, he is not there, he's working as always

When see him next, he'll have a gift for you, an apology for not being able to always be around as he is a very busy man, but he'll make it up to you

I imagine it would be comfortable, like little cottage in nature kind of comfy

You both would wake up in the morning with a nice cup of tea

Your place would be clean and organized

You'd receive lots of comforting hugs and cuddles

Life would be peaceful

Until strawhat crew comes knocking on your door

Don't quite have any ideas for Kuma so... This is end, I hope you enjoy anon, and thank you for requesting

[stainedglassthreads]

I feel like the four leads of Deltarune--Kris, Susie, Ralsei, and Noelle-are just. Somehow two different levels of queer-coded.

(Edit: Just to be clear: not saying any of this to disparage or insult shippers of Kralsei, Suselle, or Kriselle, I've just seen a lot of cool analysis about tropes, romance, and lack of choice in Deltarune and wanted to chime in with some of my own thoughts. If you ship any of those ships in Deltarune--fantastic! May you find a lot of content precisely to your taste.)

Like. On the one hand, if you're looking at tropes, they are very neatly set up into two romantic partnerships. Noelle is very blatantly interested in Susie, and Ralsei's feelings for Kris are often portrayed similarly. On a surface level, both pairings appear very clear. Noelle is a girl in love with another girl, while Ralsei is a very effeminate boy in love with a teen who doesn't appear to use pronouns. And a big deal isn't made of either pairing, there's nothing really in the way of Suselle or Kralsei on a societal level we've encountered so far. At least in terms of gender and sexuality. But if you look a little closer, it's kind of...'these are a very straight idea of queer ships', y'know?

Noelle and Susie are both girls, but one is very effeminately coded, anxious, uses magic, and is more traditionally cute, while they other is crass, crude, intimidating, and physically strong. Ralsei and Kris are gender-noncomforming, but Ralsei is a sweet pacifistic healer who bakes cakes while Kris uses a sword, and keeps being mistaken for a boy by much of Youtube and Reddit. The active one and the passive one, the fighter and the mage, the one with cute hobbies and the one who eats moss, the one in pants and the one in a dress.

And here, I start thinking of some posts I've seen analyzing how, in Deltarune, romance is used to explore how Kris doesn't really get choices. Kris has been cast as the leader and knight, and Ralsei has been cast as the healer and Princess, even if he is a boy. The leader often ends up with the healer. The knight often gets the princess as a happy ending. But Kris doesn't seem to like this! Their reactions to Ralsei are constantly lukewarm at best, and that's not getting into how Ralsei seems to be in love with his idea of Kris, while being very. Asriel-coded, who the game describes often as Kris' brother, in sharp contrast to how ambiguous Chara and Frisk's relationships with the Dreemurrs were.

If we and Kris reject Ralsei as a love interest, we can a different romantic partner in Noelle...but this choice has a bodycount, traumatizes Noelle, doesn't seem to leave Kris any happier, and it's still a kind of straight-coded ship. Now it's the knight being paired up with the apocalypse maiden, for the doomed codepedent toxic tragedy lovers out there. But it kinda makes sense too, right? If Kralsei is the expected RPG romance, then Kriselle would be the expected romance if there were no Dark World and Ralsei weren't an option. They're childhood friends and neighbors in a small town, their families used to be very close, Rudy is still very fond of Kris. They're even extremely angel/devil coded.

But the most interesting part is. It's implied that there IS someone that Kris is very interested in, either platonically or romantically. It's Susie. Kris never seems frightened by Susie when they're bullied by her, and rejects Noelle's offers to switch seats. They seek comfort from Susie rather than Ralsei after the Spamton fight, they call her their friend when Toriel calls, they share moss with her, they refuse to think about her during Snowgrave when Ralsei prompts them, they make it clear that out of all the people they COULD go to the Carnival with, Susie is the one they'd ACTUALLY want to choose.

And this is the part that drives me crazy. Because while Kris is so tightly controlled by genre and narrative, and those things would usually push them towards Ralsei or Noelle, and Ralsei keeps encouraging Kris to stick to the narrative. Susie is the one who refuses to be bound to the narrative. Susie is the character of Deltarune who is most unapologetically herself--and isn't that a very queer thing, refusing to be anyone but yourself despite everything? She says no thanks to the prophecy, until she comes around to it on her own terms! She makes herself and Ralsei learn to take their own actions, and drags Ralsei off to have fun with him instead of letting Kris choose who to with! She doesn't stay in her box of the damage-dealing fighter, she insists on learning Healing magic, even if she's not particularly skilled at it at first! Even Ralsei is forced to admit that it's wonderful that Susie is Susie, and not anyone else!

I think Kris likes Susie a lot. And part of it may be admiration. That while Kris is controlled by the player and the narrative and the prophecy and humanity and divorce and a dozen things outside their control, Susie refuses to ever be bound by anything. And Kris and Susie together happen to be the two more masculinely-coded party members, the two melee fighters, the two troublemakers. It honestly makes me wonder a little if Susie and Kris might be able to make their own ending beyond the bounds of gender expectations and romance expectations together? It would be cool. And I think it would make Kris very happy to break free like that.

[l0vem41l]

mean when i'm nervous.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited as BAWLS, dc writer newbie but im very enthusiastic abt the comics and shows and movies, dog metaphor but insane and unsubtle, explicitly vigilante!reader in dick grayson’s part, dramatic asf but not really angst 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. bruce wayne, clark kent, richard "dick" grayson, and john constantine

author's note: so. we all know what my favourite thing right now is (⌒_⌒;) i still adore everything i used to write for,,, but i’ve been on my comic motives recently (*ﾟｰﾟ*) ! reading dc mostly but spider-noir and deadpool have been picked up along the way!!! um. anyways. if i get comfy enough, i might do more dc stuff but i get that this isn't my exact audience on this blog— sorry my loves (´＿｀。) </3 might write a part two cuz i love jason. and booster gold. and like every single one of them (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) halfway through writing this i realized everything feels very literal, so i feel the need to mention that this is not dog hybrid reader stuff but if u fw that u can imagine it that way

perhaps the habit of burning bridges you’re actively crossing isn’t a good idea. and you’re not an idiot, not in the slightest— but even if you were, everyone knows that needless self destruction when developing relationships is counterproductive.

you strike the match anyways, like it’s just a force of habit. another instinct.

if you spent life knowing that the hand only beats. why would you expect it to do anything else when it’s lowered towards you?

you learn to keep your hopes down, ears alert, and teeth sharp. you learn to get used to the taste of blood. to make things messy and complicated, and to end things when they need to be ended, because god knows it’s only self preservation when you do it.

you learn that the only way to survive is to bite— to hurt before something hurts you.

and one day, an unfamiliar hand that extends towards you decides to feed instead.

why do you still bare your teeth?

▸ BRUCE is unsure why he sticks around. he’s understanding, but also reasonably frustrated with your antics. it doesn’t evade him that they stem from something deeply rooted in your past— but he doesn’t know what to do about it. if there is anything to do.

at his core, he's a detective. he's got an eye for digging into strange pasts and a knack for knowing things he isn't supposed to. but in spite of his paranoia and hunger to know, bruce doesn't pry too much. he can do research on his own, without you ever having to realize.

you’re self-sufficient, he’ll give you that. you’re unsure sometimes of whether he’s proud that you can take care of yourself or irritated that you consistently insist on doing so. he’s unsure too. not like he lets you know.

it’s a mutual understanding the two of you share— he stays, you bite. yet bruce, unsurprisingly, doesn’t mind being bitten. he’d hope that the reason he’s sticking around is for the selfless reason of making sure you’re alright. though, the reality is, you’ve grown on him, whether you realize or not.

bruce has always been fond of strays.

▸ CLARK is nothing but patient. and that scares you beyond reason.

he sees the way you bare your teeth whenever someone gets too close for comfort to you. he knows when to back away, when to speak, when not to— he’s always attempting to never make you feel backed into a corner.

somehow, it makes you more anxious seeing just how much he understands about you. he knows just how to coax you out of the corner of your cage, how to bring you in closer, and it almost, almost convinces you to let your guard down.

the thought of that is terrifying.

you try barking, you try biting— and none of it works. clark doesn’t coddle you when you’re wrong— but he’s absolutely nothing but gentle. patient and understanding, sometimes you wonder how a man of steel can be so soft for someone like you.

▸ DICK isn’t dumb. it’s fairly easy for him to put two and two together. quickly, he figures out what he’s dealing with when he encounters you.

his conversations with you are never without a note of levity— a deliberate action on his end, you’re certain. he knows, you know, and because of it, everything feels oddly tense around him, even with the attempts to banter.

it’s too late to run. his observant gaze has caught a glimpse of you through your one way glass, and he’s chosen to meet your eyes with a smile. there's a sense of foreboding that gnaws at your gut, anxiously anticipating what might be lurking under that grin of his.

on his end, there are no malicious intentions. he doesn’t really have ulterior motives when it comes to you.

most times, he chooses to defend you and be the one standing at your side when no one else does. you don't understand why he insists on offering you friendship when all you do is pull away.

after a long night of patrolling the streets of gotham, you find the two of you leaning on the railing of a rooftop side by side. your eyes are on this cityscape of gotham. his are on you.

“you keep on insisting i’m not as bad as i seem,” you mutter under your breath.

late nights make for loose lips. he’s pleasantly surprised to hear you continue the thought instead of attempting to take it back.

“do you just hate being right?” you snort, allowing your gaze to flit over to him just for a second.

"no." dick smiles, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “i think you just hate the fact that i could be.”

▸ you tried not to bother with CONSTANTINE. the day the two of you met, you didn’t even introduce yourself.

john constantine’s presence alone reeks of trouble, as acrid and suffocating as the cigarette smoke that clings to his tan trenchcoat. you are attuned to things like that. he notices.

one thing you actually enjoy about him? he doesn’t chase. he’s a nosy one, for certain, sticking his nose into places no one in their right mind would— but for the most part, he steers clear of yours. initially, you think it’s because your urge to be left alone by him is so prevalent that he’s just chosen to heed the warning and not approach when unwanted.

but he’s not a man known for abiding by rules. he’s much more curious with you than you notice or prefer. in a way, your distance has made you more myth than man, more tale than tangible— you are a rumor passed through whispers between lips, a silent shadow lurking in the corner of the room… and he loves a good mystery.

“c’mon. you're actin’ like ‘m gonna bite your head off, luv,” he chuckles, lighting up the cigarette between his fingers.

i'd probably be the one doing that if i got any closer. you keep that thought in your head, standing with a gap between the two of you as always.

he doesn't miss how you avoid looking into his eyes like his gaze could murder, instead, focusing your gaze on the cherry of the cig, burning bright red.

“not much for a wee natter, hm?”

the quick shake of your head only makes his smirk grow. you could just walk away… so why exactly were you sticking around?

“fine by me. quiet company’s welcome.” that’s a sentence he’d probably never say to anyone else. in a strange way, he feels like he knows you well enough to be comfortable with the words that hang in the air.

it’s weird. you’re completely unknown, and yet, an irrational part of his mind keeps nagging at him to look just a little closer at you. sometimes, when he listens to it, he catches a glimpse of something silent in your eyes— an all too familiar pain of a person who can’t help but hurt the things that they cling onto.

so that’s why you’re keen on keeping everyone at arms length. it almost makes him laugh to think how similar the two of you are, plain as day, and yet unnoticed by you— a person who won’t even meet his eyes.

— reblogs always appreciated!

[vulpisnocturna]

Hey, El, dear! How are you?

If it's ok for you, can I have Madara's NSFW alphabet? To maintain my unhealthy levels of obsession over him

I'll totally understand if it's too much 💖

Hey my lovely, totally fine! It just took me a while, but here it is!

NSFW - MDNI

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Madara can be pretty rough when he has a session with you, and aftercare can be super important, but sometimes he tends to forget that not everyone has his energy, endurance or strength. What’s more, if he doesn’t trust you that much, he will be skittish and unnerved by the idea of showing his vulnerability and his caring side to you. If, however, you have been in a committed relationship with him for a long time, he will definitely give you a massage to soothe your muscles and maybe a warm bath. Cuddles will ensue if you initiate them. Madara will blush as though he didn’t just fuck your brains out twenty minutes earlier.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Madara loves his hair. It’s a guilty pleasure of his to feel your fingers running through it, and though it looks quite untamed and a bit like a bird’s nest, he is very proud of it because of its length, volume and the way it flows dramatically in the wind. In a partner, Madara is quite the thigh enjoyer. He loves squeezing them, laying his head on them, biting them and leaving love bites on them. They are comforting and quite sensual. For this reason, he is also quite fond of thigh highs and any outfit that lets him catch a glimpse of them. Also very fond of being squished by a pair of thighs.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically�� I’m a disgusting person)

Madara loves cumming inside you. Because he’s an Uchiha, mainly, and breeding kinks, but also because it makes him feel as though you truly belong to him. It’s as though he is marking you, corrupting you, in a way.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He sometimes likes soft, tender, slow sex. Most people wouldn’t be ashamed of such a thing, but for a man who has built up a reputation as a heartless warrior, he thinks it will make him look weak and easily exploitable.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Madara definitely knows what he’s doing. He’s been around a long while, and as someone who never really settled down, he probably had his little escapades from time to time. He likes sex, he likes getting physical with people, and he has to prove that he’s the best at everything he does. He can’t afford to look like a floundering teen when confronted with a naked body.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He loves doggy style. He really likes the visuals, the arched back and your ass presented to him, as well as pulling your hair as he slams into you. Madara is a rough lover most of the time, and quite a dominant one too, and he likes the feeling of control it gives him. Props if your arms are tied behind your back and your face is pressed against the mattress.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Madara likes to be taken seriously when he beds you. However, he’s been known to crack one or two mordant quips from time to time, and they’re not the most… tactful. If you can take it as part of a degradation kink, more power to you. If not, it can kill the mood a little.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

The carpet does match the drapes, but he keeps it neatly trimmed. He likes looking his best and giving out the impression he’s so well put together and definitely doesn’t have any problems, and his appearance plays a huge role into that.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He can be romantic with an established partner from time to time, but sex feels more like a battle for power to him than it does a declaration of love, which would be much more domestic in his case than sexual. Sex is where he can let go and showcase his physicality and prowess, and he likes a partner that can play that game with him and let him have control in the bedroom.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He is a pretty physical person, and sometimes, he needs to release the tension that builds up inside him. He masturbates pretty often, and his imagination is quite vivid. He also takes to creating genjutsu where he can elevate his sensory experiences by creating an illusion of you joining him.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

The breeding kink is pretty much a given. He loves the idea of putting a child in you just as much as he loves the idea of tying you down to him so you can never leave him (abandonment issues much?).

Dom/sub is also a big one. He loves the feeling of power and of someone trusting him to control their pleasure. It gives him a thrill to have someone submit to him. He’s also big on begging.

Humiliation kink is equally hot to Madara. He likes talking dirty to his partner, he likes calling them names, it makes it sound more taboo and that much hotter to him.

Edging because he’s a little bastard who likes to tease. Punishment and lessons are often in his bedroom vocabulary, and one of his favourites is edging because of how desperate you get to have release. The sight of you squirming and begging really turns him on, and so does the knowledge that your orgasm, when he finally allows you to climax, will be that much more intense.

Corruption kink is another kink of his. He enjoys the thought of tarnishing something pure and moulding it into his image.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He’s a pretty traditional guy in that way. He likes to keep things private, and fuck in the bedroom, or anywhere in the house, really. Sometimes he gets the occasional urge to show off and be an exhibitionist, but not in a way that would allow anyone to actually see your naked body. For example, he’d fuck you against the window of a tall building, or make you scream loud enough the whole neighbourhood knows just how good he is.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Lingerie, playful teasing, strong individuals that are not intimidated by him are all things that turn Madara on. He enjoys a challenge, and what’s better than making a powerful, feisty individual submit to him and give him control in bed?

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Madara is not big on sharing at all. Threesomes are a no go, and neither is watching porn together or voyeurism. He can do everything by himself, he doesn’t need anyone’s help.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He likes giving, just to make you squirm, but he really loves receiving. It gets him going and it’s also a power trip of sorts, especially when you give him permission to fuck your mouth. And when you look up at him as you do it… don’t expect him to go gentle.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Madara is the fast and rough type most of the time, but because he’s a patient fellow, sometimes he goes slow and rough. Hours of endless torment and orgasm after orgasm because he has unlimited stamina and unlimited hunger.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He likes quickies. They’re a quick way to get rid of sexual tension and let out some steam. Expect to be bent down the kitchen counter and taken care of whilst the food’s on the stove.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’s game. He loves to experiment, but he won’t do anything that makes him feel too vulnerable. He likes taking calculated risks, but he doesn’t like being in a position where he will completely lose control.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

All night. You’d have to tell him you can’t take it anymore, because if it were up to him, he could do it 5 or 6 times in a day.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He definitely likes toys. They’re just a way to further torment his partner with pleasure, they heighten the sensations and make it that much more intense.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A lot. You’d think he was torturing you with pleasure from how much this man likes to tease, he’s like a cat playing with its dinner. He enjoys the feeling it gives him, the desperation, the longing.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Madara is vocal verbally, but his noises are relatively quiet and far between. He will groan and give low moans and grunts, but he won’t shout or moan loudly. He will talk to you throughout, and his voice will sound soft and smooth, because he likes to give off the impression he’s always in control.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Madara likes fucking virgins. It’s just a little guilty pleasure of his, he loves the innocence they give off and he loves corrupting them, transforming that innocence into debauchery just for him.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Madara is pretty tall, lean but toned, with a few scars and a nimble, agile figure. His cock is thick and fairly long, around 6 ½ inches. He’s also a shower.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He’s got a high sex drive. He lives for battle and sex, and anything that gets his blood pumping.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not that quickly. He likes watching you sleep so soundly after a little session. He will cradle you in his arms and observe you, carding his fingers through your hair and watching over you in such a vulnerable state. However, soon, your warm body and soft breathing will lull him into a peaceful sleep.

[ataraxiaspainting]

King of Infinity.

Yan (Villain) Gojo x F Reader. 

Synopsis: You don’t get the starring role. You’re partially happy about it; because you don’t have to break a leg.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships/kidnapping(?), descriptions of genocide, descriptions of corpses, manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome(ish), and degrading language against the reader.

Word Count: 1.1k.

can technically be considered a roleswap AU but up to you as geto isn’t talked about rcfncodnorjr…

*~*~*~*

“I never considered you someone who would be fond of apartments.” Satoru pushes his sunglasses up with his pointer finger as he wraps an arm around your trembling shoulders.

The same hand that holds you so very tenderly in the eyes of his followers is the same hand that turns on the lighter to envelop his cigarette in a small flame – a flame you had learned long ago to not attempt to put out, lest you would like it seared into your palm like the tattoo he forced on your neck.

‘The Star.’

“It’s a good strategy though,” Those words are the closest thing to a praise you have heard in months. They are akin to Satan reflecting on his reign of hell and comparing, considering whether or not it would be better to serve in heaven. But then he would laugh as his servants danced, not wanting any angel or God to take such bliss away from him.

Satoru had you dressed in what he considered to be the highest quality fabrics monkeys can make, while he had attire made from the sorcerers he had wrapped around his finger. Yours were not suitable for Tokyo’s snowstorms and his clothing covered up more skin than he would ever let you cover – because you aren’t him, the one he loves the most more than anything else in this beautiful world; Gojo Satoru, the special grade sorcerer that killed more than thirty thousand people in a single hour outside Jujutsu High and was never punished after that fateful evening.

You still remember that night. It is etched into your memory like a child had drawn it on a white wall. Despite everything, you will not ever be able to erase it. You will grow old and never dream of anything but him, the center of your now small universe, the only flower that is allowed to bloom under the eternal blood moon. Everything else will rot – even the earth’s shadow will not remain once Satoru’s dreams are realized. His will is all that matters now, he is the priest of the god of destruction and you are so very far below him. 

A monkey. That is where you will stay and continue to be after you rot and he steps on the soil placed on top of you so you cannot breathe or scream. Only gratitude can fall from your disgusting lips because Gojo Satoru’s only fuel is the groveling of every living creature that makes up the infinite number of galaxies. He will gladly replace your tongue with the worms who decompose you if you have more to say than that. After a while, he’ll comfort you and say that it doesn’t get too bad underneath because that is your one true purpose in life; to not speak and only do.

“You didn’t cry too much this time,” The ends of Satoru’s mouth move upwards, having the freedom to do as they please because his lips aren’t sewn shut. Yours on the other hand can hardly get something that tastes pleasant. “That’s an improvement, wouldn’t you say? I’ll be sure to get you some mochi after this mission, pet.”

You’re not sure if he is talking about the car ride here or the corpses strewn across the floor – occupants of this apartment and a poor security guard that just so happened to be in the general vicinity and heard flesh being torn apart like paper.

There are glimmers coming from the knife block in the kitchen area, the sunlight hitting them just right to make them glow a silvery hue. But the idea dies as soon as you feel its warmth – almost nonexistent because of the burning cold – and slink back into the shadows where you belong, where you are meant to be.

“I never took you to be one for planning. Usually, it is Nanami who does that.” 

A puff of smoke comes out, but you can still see his glowing eyes. You can always see them no matter what you do, even if you close your own, so you decide to imagine them as a different color; something less bright and more normal, something like black or brown. Sometimes you get away with it, and other times he somehow knows.

“I don’t mind it though.”

From across the street, you see the clocktower that stands at the gate of the nearest train station… or bus stop. You don’t care enough to remember which it was. Most likely the former though – you highly doubt any mere bus station would have a clock that large when said buses only hold less than fifty people.

“Will you miss me?” The tone in his voice is teasing, you think because his lighter isn’t on his lap or in his hand – it is on the little coffee table beside the sofa you two are sitting on. But you must still behave according to Satoru’s design because the placement of the flames can easily change. The comfort is cold, but it is better than a scorching hot truth.

“Yes.” 

The real reason you had chosen an apartment and not some corporate office that was under the thumb of the Star Religious Group was because you wanted to be somewhere that was halfway normal. It’s selfish, you know that. But the floors are aged and not polished daily, the air smells different and the heating is at its lowest setting because the owners wanted to save a bit of money. It was oh so very selfish of you. But when you are forced to be the companion of Gojo Satoru, someone who is every definition of the word, you have to combat it in a way that won’t leave your skin black and blue.

“It’s almost eleven,” Satoru groans, stretching his arms up to the ceiling. Some blood managed to get up there along with a bit of a leather shoe, probably the husband’s. You two ignore it for different reasons that are just as strong as the other. “Be good.”

When he reaches towards the table, you think he is reaching for his lighter. But with a slight detour of his hand, he opens his wallet instead. A few thousand yen is handed to you when your eyes are closed, your mind prepared for another fight or flight response. All you get is another poke of your cheek.

“You know where the market is, don’t you? The one I took you after our date last week.” 

You nod. “Would you like mochi, master?”

“No,” Satoru chuckles. “Get me something you like.”