#or it is in the absolute mess that is my desk drawers
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maryse127 · 2 months ago
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Couldn't find my Hunger Games bookmark anywhere but luckily I had 2 more of the same bookmark at my dad's home so I can now finally start reading the Hunger Games Illustrated Edition
#it's one that has the three neon covers of the trilogy on one side#and on the other side a short synopsis and the 7.99 for one or 19.99 for the entire trilogy info#exclusively at Bruna#my beautiful ugly dutch copies#i read the series for the first time through the library/a classmate#so i didnt have copies of my own until my mom suddenly comes to me with this ad for the entire trilogy for 20 euros#then the shop attendant put a bookmark in all three books#one of them being my most used bookmark ever#and the other two kept safe and nice#but i have no clue where that one is#so I had to take one from the reserves#because I refuse to use a different bookmark for a hunger games book#but now i will be haunted the whole christmas break where my bookmark is#because it's not in either of the physical books i have on currently reading#and a quick scan of ballad of songbirds and snakes was unsuccesful too#maybe it's in one of the evangelion mangas#i think i used it last for those#or it is in catching fire at the chapter where they watch haymitch's games#ugh#i cannot stand not knowing#or#it is in fellowship of the ring#but i dont think it is#i gave up on that before i got the manga and i feel fairly sure i used it for the manga#it definitely isnt in the silmarillion because that one has a divergent movie bookmark#i know because i accidently found that out while on a discord call with friends who found it hilarious that i had a divergent bookmark#of all things in the most prestigious book i have#or it is in the absolute mess that is my desk drawers#i am so fucking bothered by this holy shit#brain please let it go for two weeks
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dark-and-kawaii · 2 months ago
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⋆。˚୨୧˚。⋆ — Summary: Pinning your body to his desk, Nanami fucks you like he owns you ♡
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Nanami wrapped his tie around your delicate neck, constricting your breathing as he slid his cock inside you from behind. His thrusts were deep and slow, pulling on the fabric around your neck every time he bottomed out. The feeling of him stretching you out so perfectly while choking the air from your lungs had your body in an absolute frenzy- your eyes and mind fuzzy~.
“You’re so beautiful with my tie wrapped around that pretty little neck of yours.” His voice was raspy as he leaned forward to plant a kiss on the nape of your neck, pulling harder on the tie as his lips met your skin.
The rough fabric of his suit scraped against your exposed flesh, causing an indescribable sensation all over your body. Your mind was in a haze as you were getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen, your brain unable to concentrate on anything other than his cock massaging- stretching your tender sweet spot, your poor cunny being abused in all the right ways. He had you right where he wanted you.
“F’Kento~ ♡ F-Feels l-like m’m melt’ting~~♡♡” Your fingertips desperately clawed at his desk, your breasts smooshed up against the cold wood, chafed from the friction caused by his fast and hard thrusts, “M-y nip-ples~♡” Drool was trickling down your chin, your tongue hanging out of your mouth as you tried to form a sentence, “My- nipples, ru-bing~A-ahh ♡ A-h, FUCK~! ♡ Mmm... N-not s-so ha-aard~~♡ Pleaseee, Keennn~ ♡♡ I-I ca-“
You felt his hand grasp the back of your neck and roughly shove your head down against his desk, your cheek pressing into the surface, your drool seeping onto his paperwork, “You were saying something, dear? You want me to go harder? Is this what you were asking for?"
Nanami was merciless, pounding into your cunt almost desperately, as if his life depended on it, “You’re strangling hah- my cock so nicely, my love, I can hardly move.”
The veins in his hands and forearms were popping out with each thrust, beads of sweat dripped down his neck, dampening the collar of his dress shirt.
Grabbing your chin, he craned your head to the side so that he could get a better look at his fucked out darling. A trail of saliva connected your bottom lip to the papers below you, your tongue lolled out like some sloppy whore who hasn’t been fucked in ages... It took everything in him- his nail biting into your skin so that he didn’t blow his load right then and there… you were so fucking beautiful. His sweet little wife~
Nanami crashed his lips against yours, hungrily kissing you, his tongue sliding past your lips. You were so close. His cock was throbbing inside you, his pace becoming uneven as he chased his orgasm.
“Fnn~ ♡ Mn’~♡”
With one last tug on the tie around your neck, you came hard, clenching tightly around Nanami's cock.
His hips stuttered as his hot cum spilled inside of you simultaneously, a low grunt escaping his lips.
He let go of his grip on the tie, the fabric loosening around your neck. His hand slid up your throat and his fingers gently caressed your face.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?.”
You smiled lovingly at him and snuggled into his warm hand, planting a small kiss on his palm, “You didn’t, my love. You could never.”
Your chest was still heaving as you caught your breath, your head spinning from your post orgasm high.
Nanami's eyes wandered down to his cock, which was still inside of you, his cum dripping out from around the base. He carefully pulled out, admiring the view as his seed leaked from your pussy.
His lips were parted slightly, a blush creeping up his neck, his gaze fixated on your swollen lips.
He reached over to his desk drawer and pulled out a handkerchief, kneeling down behind you to clean you up, wiping up the mess between your legs.
You were absolutely spent. The events of the night had taken a toll on your body.
“Kento, could you… Could you carry me to the bath…? I- I don't think I can walk.” Your legs shook as you spoke.
He chuckled softly, "Of course, darling.”
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ms-demeanor · 1 year ago
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Can you offer any advice for avoiding hoarding when part of the problem is that trying to deal with the clutter and garbage and dirt causes paralyzing anxiety? I want my house to be clean and cluttered because it's stuff I like, but instead it's full of trash and stuff that had a place but doesn't seem to fit back in it after being used.
I can absolutely offer advice about that.
Short TL;DR:
Select the room you want to clean and make a map of it.
Divide the room into small segments like "top of desk" or "cabinet under sink" or even "half of junk drawer." SMALL segments.
Designate bags "trash," "donate," and "consider later."
Schedule a time to work on cleaning each segment, don't just assume "i'll do it next week." Write down an assigned day for each area.
Go into your target area and sort things into those bags.
Optionally, create a bag for memento items to put into a specific memento box/book.
Take bags out of the space when they are full to make more room to work and to see progress.
Do the section for the day and stop. Don't get overwhelmed by a ton of stuff, stop when you've done what you planned for the day (unless you've got good momentum built up and continuing will energize you.)
Long TL;DR:
Go someplace where you are not looking at the mess. You want to draw a map of the room, but you do not want to be in the room. Work one room at a time.
Divide the area you want to clean into very small spaces. You aren't cleaning an entire desk, you are cleaning one drawer of a desk.
Take three containers with you for each section: one trash bag, one donation bag, and one bag of stuff to consider later.
Plan out time to work on the space. Don't say "I'll do the whole thing this weekend" or "I'll get to it after the holidays," sit down and write out a schedule. There's a version of this called 40 bags in 40 days that people do for lent (that was the version of this i first found and followed the first time i did it), but you could do it in ten days, or a hundred, just try to stick to working on each segment on the day it's scheduled.
In each space, keep the stuff that's obviously meant to go there in that space, so if you're cleaning a desk drawer and it has a stapler in it, the stapler can stay there but if the staples and paper clips and rubber bands are a mess put that stuff into the "consider later" bin. Same thing with papers; if you've got a bunch of papers and you may need to keep some and may need to trash some, put them in the "consider later"
THERE IS AN OPTIONAL BIN FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HANG ON TO A MILLION MEMENTOS AND CONCERT TICKETS AND SUCH. I make them by getting gallon freezer bags and filling them up with business cards and concert programs and scraps of wrapping paper and birthday cards. This isn't quite "consider later" because it's probably stuff you know you want to keep, this is "I don't have a home for this thing right now but it's not trash" so this is a temporary home for that category.
Remove stuff from the space as you work. As you fill up a bag of trash or consider later or donate, take it out of the space so you aren't looking at it and you can see the progress you're making on the space.
Do each section as you come to it on your schedule and then call it quits. If you cleaned out the counter next to the sink and that was your area for the day, you don't have to worry about the area under the sink unless you have the energy and enthusiasm for it.
Philosophical musing about why this works
The reason this kind of plan works (for me) is by pre-managing several things. You know you're working with a limited area, you know what you're going to do with the stuff you find in that area (put it in one of your bags or leave it where it is if it belongs in that area), you're working on a limited time so this can't stretch out forever it's just a little chunk, you're thinking about the space as you build your plan so you're visualizing the anxiety inducing thing outside of the space that actually gives you the anxiety which hopefully allows you to detach slightly from the anxiety, and you're getting your steps lined up ahead of time so there's no muddle of "what do i do now, how do I get started" - you get started by grabbing your bags and you go to that day's scheduled section.
The whole thing is constructed to prevent you from getting overwhelmed.
I used to try to clean my room as a kid and I would find something that needed to get put away but I didn't know where it went so I'd spend a bunch of time trying to make a space for it and I'd end up getting lost in the weeds of imagining how I'd use the item and if the new place for it was accessible, and oh look at the items that I found in this other place where I was going to put this item and this method cuts off all of that. Where I am putting the item is in the bag, where it is going is the "consider later" pile and when I've cleared out most of the space I can consider where things go when I've gathered all the uncertain things into one place instead of continually unearthing them and disrupting the process of going through stuff.
What it means to Consider Later
The reason you're working room by room is because you should be isolating the consider later pile by room. If you're cleaning out the bedroom you may end up with stuff that belongs in the kitchen or the office, but you'll end up with a lot of stuff that belongs in the bedroom. When you've worked through all your segments, you can sort the consider later pile and now that you have all the objects together, you can consider whether some of them belong together in a space in the room.
For instance, when I first did this there were a lot of books that needed to go on bookshelves, but my bookshelves weren't accessible in the early parts of the process. So books from the floor and the bed and the nightstand went into the consider later pile and after the whole floor was clear and there was no trash on my desk and all the books I was donating had been pulled from my bookshelves, I was able to organize all of my books at once instead of stumbling across a book every four minutes and trying to shelve it.
That's what spawned the memento bags for me; there was a ton of stuff in my consider later bags that didn't precisely have a place but weren't trash and needed a place made for them. If I'd struggled to find where each item went as I cleaned it would have completely stalled me out.
I kept finding yarn as I went but I didn't have a dedicated yarn spot, so I just put yarn in the consider later pile and at the end I found a basket for it and put it on a shelf in the closet that had been cleared out when I'd donated old clothes. If I had tried to find a spot for the yarn before donating the clothes, I would have had to move it once the better spot opened up, so saving all the consider later stuff for later saved me from having to move stuff several times.
If you're in a small space or if you're living with people and you can't make a pile of stuff in another room for two weeks, at the very least remove the trash and donation bags as you go and designate an area for your consider later pile; maybe a laundry basket or something similar so that you can keep it mobile as you clean.
It's kind of like moving in to a new space. When you move in to an empty room, you have all your stuff in boxes and you need to figure out where it goes and that can take a while, but it's sometimes easier to find a place to put things in a new environment than it is to put things back "where they belong" because maybe you've added a dozen skeins to your collection and they don't belong in the little yarn bag anymore.
What to trash, what to donate, and what to consider later
Trash should be immediately obvious as trash. Anything that is trash goes in the trash bag right away.
If you find yourself thinking "but I might use this plastic fork that came with my value meal," or "this receipt may be important," put it in the consider later pile and don't think about it right now.
The donate bag should be for stuff that will still be useful for someone, but won't be useful for you. Clothes that you don't like, books you hated and won't re-read, toys you don't want to keep, all of that goes in the donate pile. If you think you might want to keep a piece of clothing but you want to make sure it doesn't fit, don't stop to try it on now just put it in the consider later pile and you can sort it into the donate bag later.
"Consider later" is for anything that requires more than thirty seconds of thought or effort to handle. If you're looking at your desk and you've got a keyboard for your computer on your desk that keyboard is staying there and doesn't need to be considered. If there's an empty takeout cup on your desk, that cup is going in the trash and doesn't need to be considered. If there's a receipt for your computer sitting on your desk, you may want to save that for record-keeping purposes but may not have a place to put it, so that is what you consider later.
Some guidelines on what is or is not trash
You might look at a sturdy plastic cup from a gas station and say "that isn't trash, I could use that, that's still good" but unless you have a specific purpose in mind for it right now, that is trash. If you wouldn't put it in a donation box to be used for some ambiguous future purpose, you don't need to keep it.
If you have a specific purpose in mind, like using an old milk jug to make a watering pitcher for your plants, it may not be trash. But only ONE is not trash; more than that is trash.
If you wouldn't need to have a hard copy of a paper and you have an electronic copy, it is trash. This means receipts for most everyday purchases like groceries and fast food. Don't keep receipts for items past their return period, don't keep receipts for items that you have a digital copy of unless that item cost over $1000.
Nice cardboard boxes (or good glass jars, or sturdy plastic takeout boxes, or cleaned food containers) that you don't have a use for are trash (or recycling, depending on where you live, but still in the trash category).
If you know someone who is specifically looking for an item (like maybe the neighbor kids are asking for cardboard tubes for a science project, or you work with a meal delivery group that could use extra packets of takeout utensils, or you have a friend who is into canning and has asked for jars, or if you make your own soup stock and need containers to put it in, or if you have a friend who is moving and needs lots of good cardboard boxes) then these items don't *have* to be trash but if you are just keeping them in your space and not giving them to people who want them or putting them to use yourself, they are just trash in your space and you should throw them away.
Memory Books/Memento Bags
I make memory books out of the little items i collect into one gallon storage bags. They allow me to hang onto the stuff that I want to keep because it brings me good memories without having a pile of random junk and sometimes without having to keep the item, or having to keep the whole item.
If the thing I want to keep because it brings me good memories is bulky, perhaps I can take a put a picture of that item to put in the book. If it is a worn out shirt, perhaps I can cut a patch off the shirt to put it in the book. If it is a card, perhaps I can cut out just the front of the card, or I can almost certainly just throw away the envelope and put the card in the book.
If you have things that do *not* fit into the memory book, like costume jewelry or rocks or a weird toy you got out of a coin machine on a really fun family vacation, you can also make a memory box; I have some of these and they've got a bunch of truly random crap in them, but I *like* having the nametag from the four hours that I worked at Denny's, or the keychain from when my mom took me to the morgue training class. It's fine to like these things, and to keep many of them, but you want to keep them someplace that they won't stress you out; that might be a display case for nice things, but it also might be a pretty velvet bag that you periodically pull out of a drawer and sort through like a magpie, or a wooden box that you painted.
You can also be selective about this stuff. You don't need every piece of costume jewelry your grandmother owned; keep the pieces you really like or the ones you have strong memories of or the ones that are very nice or the ones that are in good shape. But look, my mom was a teacher and she had a wide variety of goofy holiday jewelry that she wore in the classroom and I don't need to hang onto that. I don't need the big plastic ghost earrings that won't fit in my plugs, but I'll hang onto the spider brooch. She collected cheap watches - I don't need all of her four dollar watches, I can keep the nice ones, or the one that she got for ten years at her job. Do the same thing with stuffed animals and baby clothes and magazines and children's books. You don't need to keep all of it, and keeping all of it isn't going to help you remember that time more, or remember that person better.
Do you really want to keep it or do you feel obligated?
Youtuber Caroline Winkler (who has some great videos about home organization that I like a lot, in particular "this is why your home is a mess" - with the caveat that she likes closed storage and my ADHD ass loves open storage) has a really great tip on getting rid of stuff that works a LOT better for me than the Marie Kondo "Does this spark joy?" question and it's the Red Wine Test. Instead of asking if an item sparks joy, you ask yourself "If a bottle of red wine spilled on this (or if it was in some other way damaged) how hard would I try to fix it?" If you wouldn't try very hard, or if you would be *relieved* then you can get rid of that item. If one of the Venom mugs I have on the shelf fell down and broke, I wouldn't try hard to fix it. If my cat stuffed animal from when I was a kid tore open, I would immediately be looking for my sewing kit.
.... I should recycle those cheap teal glasses, actually.
Some general tips that may help to get you started that work for me and my ADHD and may work for you and your anxiety:
Start a timer for a short time. You don't have to clean your whole house, you are just going to pick up for five minutes. Then you can stop, and you only have to face a *little* bit of the anxiety.
5-4-3-2-1-go. Don't overthink it, count down quickly and then get up and do something. Keep going in as long a spurt as you can manage without getting too upset, but cutting down on the time for pre-game fretting might help with the anxiety.
Do the smallest amount possible. You don't have to clean this room, you just have to take one dish to the sink. You don't have to do all the dishes, you can just unload part of the top tray of the dishwasher.
Some general tips on trying to keep a space clean:
First, encouragement: It is a lot easier to maintain a clean space than it is to create one.
If you're thinking that something needs to be done and it can take you under five minutes to do it and it's right in front of you, do it. I do this with my dishwasher. It turns out unloading the dishwasher is the main thing that stalls me on dishes and keeps my sink full, so now when I'm waiting for the kettle or letting my tea steep, I unload whatever I can get done in that time. If I have the vacuum out and I did my living room but the hall and the bedroom could use a quick pass too, I vacuum them while I've got the machine in my hand.
Set success traps. Success traps are things that let you fall into succeeding by front-loading the effort (or executive function) of cleaning with planning. Trash collects in your living space? Put a bunch of little trash cans everywhere. Cleaning your bathroom takes extra time because you have to go get glass cleaner and paper towels from another room? Keep a bottle of glass cleaner and a roll of paper towels under the sink. You never sweep because it is a pain in the ass to get the broom out of the broom closet? Hang the broom from a mount in the kitchen. It takes too long to clean the counter because you have to pick up a bunch of makeup brushes and bottles and soap? Put that shit on a tray and now you only have to move one thing to clean the counter.
And for your specific question, with "things never seem to quite fit back where they came from" sounds like you're playing storage tetris, which is when things have a place and it is a *very specific and exact* place that doesn't have a lot of room around it. You may need to think about downsizing for your space, or, more likely, think about more efficient storage. That Caroline Winkler video I linked has some tips on this ("don't store things in a way that will make you angry like putting your common use objects on an out of reach shelf or you'll never put things back because it's hard to put them back" and "maximize your weirdo spaces" speak to your situation, i think) that I've put into use, particularly in my kitchen. It was hard to keep the counter clear because it was hard to put my stand mixer away because the rack for the stand mixer had a wok and a bunch of cast iron pans and a panini press and a chafing dish on it; I put the panini press and the least-used cast iron and the chafing dish and the wok in a more out-of-the way cabinet (because i basically never use them but they're very useful when I need them) and now that shelf has a little grill, my more commonly used cast iron, and my stand mixer so putting away the stand mixer is a lot less effort so my counter stays clear. I wasn't using the top shelf of my dish cabinet for dishes because it's too high up for daily use, but it's perfect for the rice cooker, waffle maker, and food processor that I use less than my dishes but more than my george forman grill.
And anyway, the TL;DR for all of that:
Work a little bit at a time, be nice to yourself, don't keep things that aren't worth keeping, and configure your storage in a way that works for you (by keeping your lifestyle, the way you use things, and how easy it is to put away into account before deciding that's where something lives).
Good luck!
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mixingandmelting · 12 days ago
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Ok so there comes a time in every relationship where your partner annoys you and then you have to decide if staying with them is worth it cuz you love them more than the person’s flaws? Now for the batboys, what normal annoying things from their partner do you think would annoy them? And on the flip side, what do you think the bat boys would do to annoy their partner without meaning too? (Example: One of the things about Dick is that he has organised mess and he gets incredibly stressed out if someone moves his stuff around without telling him. It’s as basic as his shoes being cleaned and placed a couple of feet in the open from where they were for him without telling him, he feels like an asshole and apologises after once he cools down, but this actually upsets him in canon comics.) (for example for reader: it can be he has an annoying sneeze that goes through you when you sit next to him)?
His Pet Peeve vs His Bad Habit
A/N: Ended up making this somewhat a two-part post since let's be real, all of them would be guilty with crashing unannounced which i posted here😂
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Dick:
Pet peeve that you do: touching his stuff
Others have said he's terrible at putting things away, he simply calls it an organizational mess. It works for him so why should it matter to anyone else? 
Can’t handle anyone moving his things. Absolutely, genuinely, no matter who it is
Called and texted you multiple times before over this whether it’s his shoes being placed a few inches away where he usually places them, his cereal boxes in the wrong order compared to how he usually has them placed
“Where are my keys? What? Why would you place them in my desk’s drawer? They belong on the couch-”
There are reasons why he placed things the way they are. It’s not hard to not touch and leave them be
Vents out his frustration and irritation but never to the point of crossing the line since you only move things when you’re helping him out with cleaning his place out especially if he neglects doing some house chores ( laundry, dishes, making his bed, everything)
Bad habit that annoys you: naming things after his vigilante code name
He’s known to be witty and charming with his word play, most of the time being cute or funny. But when it comes to naming, in general, it’s a mess
The name he gave to his boat, motorcycle, car, and weapons are of the following: boat wing, wing cycle, nightbird, wing dings. Yes, this is all canon and it should be telling how great his naming senses are
You swore and even made a bet against his friends that he was the one to give the name Bitewing to the cute pitbull. You later called Tim and Babs to express your disappointment towards them, saying they knew better 
You tried not to shed a tear from how proud you were for Dick to name Bitewing with a reasonable and normal civilian name: Haley. It wasn’t Nugget or Gray - it was an actual memorable and good name
Begged him to not have the plane he planned to have either “night” or “wing”. No Wing Plane, no Night Flight, please. Something normal. He never listens and goes it for it in the end
Jason:
Pet peeve that you do: Incorrect grammar and messes
He’s special because he has two: incorrect grammar usage and his place being messy
Unlike Dick who hates people touching his stuff in general, Jason’s more keeping his space clean
Seriously, anyone who breaks into his room should know how meticulous he is, where even his weapons are hanging on the walls in fancy oak wood frames with red velvet cushioning underneath for aesthetics
He’s gentle but looks like a cherry when he reminds you to make sure you’re not leaving your laundry on the ground or used napkins on the table - like there’s a dirty hamper and trash can for a reason and it’s not for decoration
Irritates him to no end when people misuse words and grammar where he’ll annoy the other person until the correct it including you
Yes he will do the cliche can vs may (“Can you? As in are you able to? Or may you as in you need permission”), use asterisks below your text with the correct word because if it annoys you think about how he feels when you make those errors
Bad habit that annoys you: Messy eater
With him being a fan of eating hand-held foods, favorite being hot dogs and ice cream, he frequently gets food stains on his clothes
Slouches on his chair or couch, ketchup slipping off and onto his shirt and munching without a care while you’re staring at the guy who’s also a clean freak regarding his private space
Lost track how many shirts he ruined, annoying you and himself 
Though sometimes it was appreciated when he’d get up and take off his shirt to wash out the fresh, new stain at the kitchen sink ;)
But most times you threaten to get him a bib or be those pretentious, stereotypical rich people where they stuff a corner of their napkin into their shirts while shaking the numerous shirts you had to wash in a single week
Tim:
Pet peeve that you do: not following directions
He already gets agitated and stressed when no one follows the plans he spent three weeks perfecting without sleep. What makes you think he won’t be the same when you don’t read the package inserts or the directions?
Most of the time everything goes smoothly when reading them. And do you know how much time it must’ve taken to write the instructions while considering all the people they’re selling their product to?
He does admit a some are BS and make no sense
Doesn’t express his annoyance and instead stays on the sidelines, slurping from his can of Monster and lets you do your own thing knowing you’re going to fail. Then once you do and get frustrated as to why nothing is working, he rubs it in how you should’ve read the instructions
“You sure that’s right? It says here you need to insert that part first.” “I know what I’m doing Tim, I’ve done it a thousand times.” Cue the Ikea frame falling. “Maybe you should’ve read the package insert.” “Shut up.” 
Bad habit that annoys you: Napping locations
Where he takes his naps is just as bad as his caffeine consumption and lack of sleep in general
When he’s tired, like really tired, he can sleep anywhere. In the classroom, in the conference room, on the floor of the living room
You found him sleeping on the kitchen table once. As in his whole body lying on the table. How and why neither of you know other than Tim remembering he wanted to rest his head on the table
You’ve begged him so many times to nap on the bed or couch out of concern he was going to get hurt
He still doesn’t listen so you started a collection of taking pictures of the oddest places he sleeps at and on, proceeding by sending them to the group chat. It does work but only for a while since he’ll end up falling asleep after not sleeping for another whole week
Duke:
Pet peeve that you do: common sense
When leaving the room, turn the lights off. When done washing your hands, turn the faucet off. In other words, common sense
He really doesn’t get how it’s so hard to do just that. It should be natural, automatic response
After becoming a full time vigilantes, the bigger things he scratches up as the per usual daily problems but it’s the little things that get to him
Found you reading in the dark once without having the lights on before. He went on about vision impairment after flicking the switch up. He wasn’t amused when you joked how he could’ve sat next to you so you’d get both a reading lamp and body-sized pillow
Don’t get him started with dishes and how they should’ve been washed after a meal not leaving them in the sink for who knows how long
Also cereal. He believes it’s cereal first then milk, reasoning you can control the amount and ratio of cereal to milk 
Bad habit that annoys you: biting pencils 
Does it whenever he’s thinking about something deeply but can’t solve the issue
Whether it’s working on a plan, trying to figure out a case, doing homework
Problem is pencil paint isn’t all that healthy or safe to consume. Also having a pencil have smell like one’s breath isn’t that appealing 
Doesn’t matter what part of the pencil though there seems to be actual indents near the eraser end which once made you asked if a pencil tastes good
You’ve gotten him mechanical pencils and eraser toppers. Somewhat worked only for him to go back using his usual wooden pencils and bite them again
Tries to stop after you went on how harmful biting pencils are, still finds himself doing it time-to-time
Damian:
Pet peeve you do: calling him short
Don’t ever bring it up. Don’t ever mention it. He. Is. Not. Short
Height is not everything when it comes to crime fighting. Skills, abilities, and strategy beats pure physical prowess
He’s not the shortest either. He’s still growing. Drake is only 5’7” at his current age while Todd was 4’6” when he was Robin. Being  5’4” is a perfectly, acceptable height
This also includes all synonyms and phrases. Tiny, small, fun sized. His personality coming from the fact shorter people are closer to hell- 
He fumes and bursts whenever it happens. Literally will get ready wage a battle of a lifetime 
Whenever you do it, he gives you hell by pranking you in every way until you wave the white flag and admit you’re wrong. Usually that never happens and the adults end up having to step in to get both of you two stop
Bad habit that annoys you: tongue clicking
Does it to express so many emotions, so it gets confusing as to why he clicked his tongue without the full context
It could be from annoyance, dissatisfaction, or disagreement. At least you know it’s used for a negative response
Not as bad when he does it because he got stumped since then you’re just smug and getting to gloat you were right while he scowls back
But when he does it to avoid answering you out right or when he refuses to agree- like come on, use your words not onomatopoeia
Ask him if he’s doing it because he’s sulking and it gets him to stop only for it happen again as it’s part of his habit
Cue another reason for a childish war between the two of you where one has to one-up the other
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fallinforgyu · 11 months ago
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pretty bun can u PLEASE talk more about how perverted enha nd txt are !!! I'm pretty sure they would be all such a perverts pls pls pls
u are 100% correct anon bc one thing about enha + txt is that they’re both FULL of pervs. but lemme tell yall who’s been on my mind lately: PERV. SOOBIN.
specifically!!! pervy roommate soobin who always seems a little bit nervous around you. his cheeks always seem a little bit pink and his hands are always a little bit sweaty but he just can’t help it, he likes you so much :(
it gets worse the first time he hears you touching yourself through your shared wall. he hears a faint buzzing, a hum, but he assumes that it’s just you using your electric toothbrush. that’s until he hears a tiny little moan. his eyes widen, he claps a hand over his mouth, and then he slowly presses his ear to the wall. and what else is he supposed to do other than slip his dick out of his pajama pants and hope that you don’t hear him jerking off to your cute noises?
and then you notice is your panties slowly going missing. at first they disappeared somewhere between the washer and the dryer, but as time progressed, they started vanishing from your dirty clothes hamper. soobin keeps them in a drawer at his desk and he only takes them out late at night, pressing them to his nose (and occasionally letting his tongue swipe across the salty fabric) while he fucks a fleshlight.
he’s mortified when you finally confront him about it, of course, but give him even the tiniest hint that you want him and he’ll be begging for you. “y-you don’t even need to touch me, please, just let me touch you,” he’d plead, desperate just to get his hands on you. he almost comes in his pants just from squeezing your boobs, so imagine how insane he’d go when he’s finally kneeling between your legs. finally getting to taste the real thing, not just the essence left behind on your panties. he’d get a little lost in it, i think, his eyes glazed over as he drools all over you, fucking you with his long fingers while he sucks your clit <3
and if you actually let him fuck you??? omfg i think he’d be SO rough. he’d wanna absolutely ruin you. he’d shove his fingers in your mouth, making you gag on them until you’re crying while he fucks you with that huge dick. “been thinking about this for so long, pretty girl,” he’d groan in your ear, “making such a mess on my cock like i knew you would. perfect little pussy taking it so well.”
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randomshyperson · 2 years ago
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Mess is Mine - Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader
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Summary: Being divorced from Wanda Maximoff implies never getting over her.
Warnings: (+18), language, brief smut, divorced ladies who are very still much in love with each other, unspecified age gap, marriage going wrong, hopeful ending, mild angst, fluff.| Words: 3.949k.
A/N-> There's this divorced couple in a Brazilian soap opera with so much chemistry in their scenes together because of the intimacy gained during marriage (even though that didn't work out) and they won't leave my tik tok ; at some point, my brain thought about this fic. I would love to write more of this trope in the future.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
--//--
Wanda had a persistent migraine, and the pile of work in front of her was not helping.
Still, all her stubborn brain could focus on instead of her real job was the stupid headline of the gossip magazine on her desk.
A cheap and badly angled photo of her ex-wife with colorful captions that read 'The newest business killer couple?" and dozens more insinuations about a secret high-society romance made her stomach churn.
Wanda tried not to be affected by the gossip, but you looked so happy in the photo that she couldn't help it.
The sudden opening of her door made Wanda jump in her seat, in one quick pull close the magazine and sigh with relief when she saw it was only Natasha.
"Why are you here?" Her long-time friend and co-worker asked. Wanda frowned in confusion.
"It's still my company..."
Nat rolled her eyes, walking into the office and taking long strides to her desk. "I meant in here, smarty-pants. The event is starting in an hour, the staff wanted some words of encouragement or something."
Wanda sighed wearily, massaging her forehead with one hand. "Can't you do that for me, Nat? I gotta make some calls."
Nat hummed in agreement, but her gaze caught the closed magazine on the table and she raised a brow at her friend. "One of those calls includes your ex-wife, I suppose."
Wanda chuckled dryly, taking the magazine out to one of the drawers and adjusting herself to reach the desk phone. "There's nothing else for me to say to her."
Her friend hid a smile that said that she didn't believe this one bit. "Okay, whatever you say. See you later, boss."
Wanda waved goodbye, with the phone to her ear. Her immediate instinct was to dial known numbers but she shook her head to push that ridiculous idea away and went back to work.
Several hours after the peak of the event when the company was filled with guests, from potential clients to journalists looking for any news like vultures at the carrion, Wanda was at her second glass of champagne, trying to keep the rest of her patience intact after having answered so many questions for gossip magazines regarding the headline from earlier in the day.
She absolutely did not want to discuss a possible romance between her ex-wife and the heiress of Bishop Industries. 
Years before, any of them would have been afraid to question her about something so ridiculous, but that was before you came along. And melted your way into the Business Ice Queen, the untouchable Wanda Maximoff, or whatever insensitive nickname they invented about her back then. Before breaking down all of Wanda's walls, making her a better person, and of course, before you left her.
It was definitely the alcohol's fault that she was thinking about this, and with these stupid tears welling up in her eyes. Wanda swallowed all the emotion, burying it deep and making sure that no one had noticed her broken expression. With an excuse to a group of investors who were boring her into a corner, she retreated to an area far away from the company's outdoor gardens, taking a deep breath to calm herself. The beautiful view of the state lake was most welcome.
So of course the reason for her almost minor breakdown had to show up wearing her favorite suit.
"Are you running away from your guests, Maximoff?" Your tone was casual, the smile provocative. She snorted to herself, crossing her arms and keeping her eyes on the lake. You didn't mind, walking over to her at a slow pace until you were beside her on the edge. 
"I just needed some air." She merely replies. With one hand in your pockets, you adjust your own hair, and Wanda hates that she can smell the shampoo, her body betraying her and shuddering as if your scent were addictive. 
"You're avoiding me today." You comment lightheartedly, studying her face. "I arrived an hour ago and it took me almost all this time to find you."
Wanda forced a smile, finally facing you back, but her angry look made you hesitate. "I thought your chaperone was keeping you busy."
You glanced back at the party, stealing a quick check on Kate at the food stand, chatting with a blonde girl, before turning your attention back to Wanda.
"I forgot how hot you get when you're jealous."
Wanda huffs away, her cheeks burning which she tries to hide by staring at the lake. "Don't even start." She warns between teeth. 
You chuckle, rolling your eyes, but don't insist. You turn your attention to the lake as well. "I wanted to let you know that the boys have already arrived in King Cross. I spoke to them and Charles on the phone."
"I know, Pietro texted me." She retorts more harshly than she meant to and bites the inside of her cheek as she sees you lower your head in upset. With a sigh, she mumbles, "I meant, thanks for letting me know."
You smile, nodding before turning your gaze back to the party. "What do you think of Miss Bishop?" 
Wanda locks her jaw; How dare you honestly. A list of curses lays ready on the tip of her tongue, but she remembers where you two are, and takes a deep breath. You were clearly trying for some kind of reaction from her, and she's not going to let you have this victory today.
"She's beautiful." Wanda replies. "As young as you were when I met you."
You chuckle shortly, raising an eyebrow at her. "What are you implying, Maximoff?"
Wanda shrugs her shoulders softly, turning to leave. "You're quite clever, Y/N, I'm sure you follow." She hits back, but you step forward into her path. You are suddenly too close, and Wanda finds herself holding her breath. She needs to take a step back to avoid stopping breathing for good.
Your eyes stare into theirs. "Not that this is any of your business, darling, but my relationship with Kate is strictly professional."
You assure her in a low tone, and Wanda swallows hard as your gaze moves down to her lips for a long moment before focusing on her eyes again. A smile forms on your mouth next. "Besides this, I've always had a thing for older women."
Wanda sighs heavily, using all her mental control to pull away at once. "Go pay attention to your chaperone, Y/N. Especially if she's a potential client."
You roll your eyes at the business tip; you already know them by heart, the vast majority learned from Wanda. And your ex-wife makes mention of leaving, so you slide your hand down her forearm gently, taking some amusement in seeing the way she shivers.
"I wanted to talk to you about something, Wanda." You let her know, with a serious tone but a tender look. The redhead swallows dryly at the closeness of your faces now that you're standing side by side, your hands connected. "Later, after the party, okay?"
"I-I..."
"It's important." You assure her, knowing her hesitation is so as not to break your agreement about relapses. With a gentle expression, you insist, "Please, it won't take more than five minutes."
She licks her lips, and you almost kiss her. Lucky for her she agrees and walks away because God knows you would have done it, right there in that garden for all the New York reporters to have a week's news about.
Without Wanda's perfume around you, you take a deep breath and try to clear your mind, having to wait a few more minutes in the garden for your heart to stop beating so fast.
As the event nears its end and Wanda needs to give a closing speech, you say goodbye to Kate before the parking area. You ignore all the journalists who try to insinuate something about you having taken the girl to the car and exchange a glance with Wanda in the small crowd before moving toward the elevator.
Wanda has always known you so well, and with a nod, she knows exactly where she has to go.
Her work floor is completely deserted as she makes her way to her own office. But she still closes the door as she enters, letting out a tired laugh at your figure sitting on her armchair.
Her smile fades when she sees what you are reading.
"Headlines nowadays are getting creative..." You wryly chuckle, laughing at your ex-wife's caught expression. "It says here that I might have an eye to the Bishop's fortune. How silly, you gave me almost half of yours in the divorce, why would I need more money?"
"Very funny." Wanda dryly retorts, reaching up to snatch the magazine from your hands with a tug, and raking the item into the trash afterward. She crosses her arms as she looks at you. "What did you want to tell me?"
You flashed a small, sideways smile. "You used to be more polite when you wanted to sleep with me. At least offer me a drink."
Wanda chuckled dryly, rolling her eyes and begrudgingly moving to the personal bar in the corner of the room. If she leaned over more than necessary to grab one of the whiskey bottles, aware that the position in the chair gave you a full view of her ass, neither of you said anything about it. She hid her satisfied smile as she heard your breath hitch at the image, and you hid your own reaction as you cleared your throat and looked away.
Shortly thereafter, two shots of whiskey were served on the glass table in front of you. But before the toast, you declared:
"I'm leaving."
Wanda frowned, and when you made mention of taking the glass, she placed her hand on your forearm. "Speak."
You chuckled, staring her in the eyes. "I closed a contract with the Ten Rings folks. They want me in Korea for the next four months."
Wanda lets go of your arm as if she had been burned and steps away from the table with an indecipherable, but very disturbed expression.
"B-but the boys.." She tries to formulate, but you rise from the armchair with a sigh.
"They'll be at school." You retort, even though firm, your gaze is almost pleading. For what, Wanda doesn't have the heart to wonder. "It's not as if they stay with us all the time, Wands. The boarding school takes up this time quite well. It will only be four months, and they've already invented the telephone and internet, you know?" You try to joke, but Wanda hugs her own body and faces you.
"Why are you here, then? You've traveled before."
"Not for that long." You say, taking steps toward her, and mentally thanking heavens that she doesn't pull away. "And not... not since we made the divorce official."
"Y/N..."
"I know, I know." You murmur with a sad smile, raising your hands to her arms uncovered by her dress. "Maybe it's stupid, but I wanted to make sure we're okay. That it won't be something...I don't know, that hurts us."
"More than a divorce? I find that difficult." She replies with restrained emotion in her husky voice. You sigh.
"Wanda..."
"No, you're right. It was stupid." She cuts off, pulling away so you don't see the tears welling up in her eyes. "Of course it's okay. But I appreciate that you respect the concept of shared custody. I imagine the kids already know?"
"Yes, I told them before I took them to the airport." You mutter upset, watching Wanda walk away to the window. "But Wands, I wanted to tell you in person..."
"And why is that, huh?" she retorts with an impatience that makes you flinch. And for this, Wanda loses it for good. "You know, I don't understand you! You left me! You filed for divorce, you wanted to break us up. But you keep showing up here, and at home, and everywhere, and now you want to come here and say you care-"
"I care, Wa-"
"Then why did you leave me?" she shouts back, almost regretting it when she sees the tears in your eyes. You laugh tearfully, shaking your head.
"We've had this conversation dozens of times, Wan." You say, much calmer than she is. "But you just can't accept that you're wrong, can you?"
"Right, I forgot that I'm the villain in your story." She sneers, wiping her face with the back of her hand. You give another sad laugh.
"I wish it were that simple, darling." You tell her, taking slow steps toward her. "If you were just the villain, the bad wife, the evil boss, everything would be easier. I could hate you, curse your names to all my friends, and spend all the divorce money on expensive, empty things out there, but it's not like that. You forget the part that I love you and tried to fight for us until the last second."
Wanda sobs quietly, looking down at the floor, "Don't do that, Y/N."
"But it's true, baby, you know. I'm not the one who broke any promises, Wands. I just got tired of begging for crumbs of attention from the person who swore to spend the rest of her days with me."
Wanda lifts her chin, and the determination in her gaze doesn't do justice to the tears. "You knew how much my career meant when you said yes."
You smile sadly, taking one last step to get close enough to hold her face. Wanda shudders as you wipe away her tears, as you have done so many times before, as if no time has passed and everything was fine.
"I am so proud of you, Wands, for all you have accomplished with your work. I only wish I had been as important as this building." 
You place a long kiss on her forehead, pulling away afterward. You offer her one last sad smile before closing the door on your way out. Wanda starts to cry as soon as you have done so, even though she tries very hard to keep her tears away.
–//–
You burned a pancake to answer the door, but all the irritation over the ruined dish vanished when you saw Wanda standing in front of you.
It had only been a few days since you had last seen her, and now all the furniture in your apartment was already packed away and covered with rags, prepared for the time you would be away. Wanda's party dress gave way to a casual suit that made you swallow dryly and become self-conscious of the sweatpants and sports top you were wearing. Wanda wouldn't have picked anything better.
"Are you going to let me in, detka?" Wanda asked with some teasing for your moment of shock. You immediately recovered, making room for her to enter and closing the door once she was in the hall. "Sorry for disturbing your breakfast. I wanted to see you before your flight."
"Oh, don't worry about it. And I'm not going until the afternoon." You clarified somewhat clumsily by her presence, one hand still holding a spatula and the other adjusting your hair. "I made pancakes if you'd like..."
"I would love it." Wanda assured with a smile that made your stomach twist. It wasn't fair that your ex-wife got more beautiful every time you looked at her, honestly.
Wanda followed you back into the kitchen, and to both your surprise, you fell into a light conversation about work and the boys while preparing and serving food, completely different from the tone of the conversation the last time you had seen each other. 
But it was a time bomb, of course, so you weren't surprised when Wanda suddenly bit her lip, assuming a more tense posture. 
Finishing chewing your pancakes, you asked:
"Why are you here, sweetheart?" 
Wanda raised her eyes to you, and you stared back at her, patiently for her to clarify. 
"I wanted to say goodbye to you properly." She said, spinning her own stool around first before tipping her hands around yours to spin you toward her. You raise a brow in curiosity, but the question of what she was doing dies in your throat as she leans in and brings your lips together. 
It has been exactly three months, eighteen days, and sixteen hours since you last kissed Wanda, and you only realize how much you missed the feeling when she does it again. It's as intoxicating as it is overwhelming, and you gasp into her lips, breaking the kiss at once as you stand up, taking good steps away from the countertop.
"Wanda, we talked about this." You remind her in a husky voice, pressing a hand over your face. It's ridiculous how much your skin is burning and your heart is racing for something that lasted less than three seconds. "No relapses. You promised-"
"It's not a relapse." She assured, reaching up and grabbing your hands to place them around her waist. You grunted at the sensation, closing your eyes as Wanda slipped hers over your shoulders, too close for you to think about anything other than her. "It's a parting gift. So you'll have a reason to come back."
"W-what...?"
Wanda presses closer and brings her mouth to your ear. "Just stop overthinking it and accept the gift, detka."
With encouragement, she bites the lobe of your ear, and you give up resisting.
With a tug on her waist, you bring your mouths together in a kiss much hungrier and more passionate than the first, which elicits loud, almost primal moans of need from both of you. Wanda pushes and pulls, and by the time you stumble to the back of the living room couch, your pants are already open and there's nothing covering your torso; much like the woman in front of you, who as soon as she throws you sitting up against the cushions, your breathing out of rhythm and your lips swollen from kissing hard, makes a show of removing the rest of her clothes.
She has time to smile mischievously at your look of pure adoration at her completely naked body in front of you before you pull her onto your lap by her thighs. Wanda climbs on you with a needy grunt, burning from the inside out in anticipation for you to touch her again.
Your touches are almost desperate, your kisses mark her skin. It is your gift, but you also seem determined to make sure that Wanda has the memory of this morning for quite some time. 
When your mouth closes around her nipples, she whimpers to the ceiling, arching her back and steadying her hands in your hair, a soft plea that you not stop.
"Yes, baby, just like that." She encourages over the stimulation on her nipples, breaking into an excited whimper when you simply use your free hand to masturbate her. At any other time, you would have taken your time to work her up until she was begging for your touch, but now, in the urgency you two were sharing, it wasn't necessary. She was ready for you. 
Your fingers penetrate her without delay, and Wanda digs her nails into your shoulder, breaking into a breathless moan. You give one last hickey on her hardened nipple before you move your face back up to hers, kissing her with intensity as your fingers dance inside her walls with the mastery of one who has done this a dozen times, one who knows her like the palm of the hand she so deliberately grinds against in the intention of relieving herself.
"G-god, detka! Right here!" She breaks the kiss into an affected moan, practically meowing as you repeatedly hit that sensitive spot inside her. The wetness grows in your palm, Wanda oozes into you, and to help her, you bring your free hand to her hip, coordinating her movements as she begins to fail. "I-I'm going to..."
"Don't talk, show." You interrupt her with a proud little smile, moving your mouth down to bite the sensitive spots on her neck. "Come to me, baby, I've got you."
That's all she needs to reach the first climax of the morning, and she is not surprised that you don't stop at the first. Or the second, or the third.
You are on your knees on the living room floor when your first alarm goes off. Breathing as out of breath as Wanda, on the couch with her torso exposed and her legs spread from which you against your will need to remove your face to turn off the alarm when you pull away.
She covers herself when you disappear to the kitchen because she knows it's because of the flight, and when you return, the cell phone goes on the coffee table and you sit on the floor next to her on the couch. 
There is a long silent pause, where only your breaths can be heard. Wanda skirts a hickey on her own thigh and you sigh.
"We shouldn't have..." But you can't complete, it because your voice fails you as if you are going to start crying. You look away, and Wanda lets herself fall to your side on the floor, where she reaches for your hand.
"Detka, look at me." She asks, and you have to wait a moment until you sniffle and do so with difficulty.
"I told you it hurts me, Wands. I can't-" You take a deep breath. "I can't heal if this keeps happening. There’s no getting over you if we keep doing this”
She shakes her head. "I don't want you to get over me." She says and you huff, trying to pull her hand away, but Wanda squeezes. "I love you, you know I do."
"Love is not enough." You retort bitterly, your eyes filled with tears. "Loving me doesn't mean you won't hurt me. Nor that you won't ignore me. Those are just words, Wanda. I haven't felt loved by you in a long time."
She releases your hand from the shock of your words, and watches you create a physical distance between you as you walk away. You slip away to the bedroom, muttering that you need to get ready for the flight, and she tries to make a decision the whole time you are in the shower.
When you return to the room, wearing a set of travel clothes, Wanda is wearing your sweatpants and her own dress shirt. Your chest aches to see her wearing your clothes again.
"Wanda, you'd better go, my flight-"
"I love you, detka." She cuts you off with eyes bright with determination as she stares at you. You swallow dry, but can't resist when Wanda reaches up to touch your face. "I will make sure you know it. You'll know it so deeply that you'll be able to feel it in your bones. And you'll never doubt it again."
You sniffle lightly. "Wanda..."
"Don't worry about it now, detka." She interrupts you more gently, caressing your face. "Have a great trip. I'll be here when you come back home."
You sigh, and Wanda doesn't let you say anything more, kissing you in a calmer, but somehow much more intense way than before. 
She leaves the apartment before you, with a wink and a request that you call the boys before and after the flight. 
And even before she gets to the first floor, Wanda has already texted Natasha about her early retirement procedure after her well-deserved family vacation.
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potatomountain · 1 year ago
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Chapter Five
📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective reader
📍word count: 3.5k
📍network: @pirateeznet
📍Warnings: (TBD)
📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 and @daesukiii
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As an apology, and to give you a little break, Hongjoong had sent you out with San to grab food for everyone- yourself included. San changed out of the bloody shirt into a black button up after he let Seonghwa finish bandaging him up. They let you pick the place and you offered the deli down the street you had been going to. San took their orders and walked with you, encouraging you to rant about the others and he listened, giving you his full attention. You had been apprehensive about it at first, but a part of you wanted to lean on him.
He had come to your figurative rescue earlier, knocking on the door and apologizing for them. He managed to coax you out, and when you opened the door he had been sweet, joking about beating up the others on your behalf and that he could get away with it. Plus, you needed an ally, even if it was just partially.
You didn’t understand why San wasn’t hostile to you from the start like the others, why he sought you out to comfort you and why now he was listening so intently… but you liked it. You didn’t trust him of course, but you enjoyed his company none-the-less. Arriving at the deli he gave everyone’s order and looked at you expectantly.
“I still have my food at the office.” You were just thankful for the excuse to come back out.
“It's probably cold by now. Get something. It's on the Captain's card so don't worry about the price.” He smirked, showing off the card between two of his fingers. “Come on, make it hurt.”
Grinning, he did have a point. You ordered more food than you could eat but San encouraged you by saying he could hide the rotting food in one of the other's things. The childish prank idea had you giddy.
The walk back he insisted on carrying all the food and some of the drinks, leaving you with one carrier and your own food. He didn't struggle with it, continued talking as if you two had been working together for awhile. It was almost alarming how easily you got swept up into his charm.
“See I'd bet Jongho would just flip his shit, desk too, if he found a moldy mass just hiding in his back drawer.  Either him or Mingi would have the best reactions.”
“What about Yeosang?” You asked, amused by his descriptions of how each of them would react.
San shrugged. “He keeps himself locked in his work room, it would be hard to sneak it in there. Captain would also be a good idea as his office is usually left a mess but you would have to hide it well enough that Hwa wouldn't find it while cleaning. If he did- well he'd just blame the Captain.”
You tried to picture an argument between the two over a moldy forgotten sandwich, bringing a smile back to your face once more. “Now that sounds even more interesting. And you said Yunho would be the least reactive?”
“Mhmm, not much actually pisses him off. He'd probably just throw it away when he saw it and forget about it in minutes.”
“I see…” He had appeared to be the friendlier of them, or well least angry. Despite his teasing and condescending interactions, he had talked to you the most. “The amount of testosterone between all of you is absolutely infuriating, you know.”
“Yeah- I know. If circumstances were different I wouldn't be surprised if they had a bet going of who would fuck you first.” He chuckled dryly, the building in view.
You made a disgusted face at that. “UGH, men.”
He was still laughing when you two entered through the front. You set your food and drink down first before following San to the back, your now good mood getting more tense with each step.
You wanted to believe things were resolved- wanting to believe there was no more hostility- but they attempted a truce before and that turned into the argument earlier. So as you followed San to the nearest desk and set everything down, you were visibly on edge.
“I'm going to go eat now…” You told San, not bothering to look at anyone else that might be in the room. 
San reached out and grabbed your wrist gently, eyes searching your expression. “You sure you don't want to eat with us?” 
Shaking your head you pulled away. “No thanks, I'm not going to push my luck. I've had enough testosterone today.” With a heavy sigh you turned to head back to your meal- only to run into a chest. “Ou-”
“Sorry, figured you would be more on your toes.” Seonghwa grabbed your forearms to steady you, the hint of a smirk on his lips.
You narrowed your eyes in response. “Forgive me for not being more on edge.”
His expression fell, as did his hands. “That wasn't- it wasn't a jab, I'm sorry.” He looked you over, standing in your way to keep you from leaving. “Captain asked if we could join you to eat? He wants to have a chat.”
Stiffening a bit, you knew it was an order and not a request. “Do I- fine, I'll be at my desk.” You bit off your defensive retort and relented defeat, making your way around him with a heavy sigh.
You were much more mentally exhausted than you had believed, your temples beginning to throb as you made your way back to your desk. You were given a moment to sit down and collect your thoughts before the two of them joined you. Seonghwa stood on the other side of your desk while Hongjoong sat down right next to you- he had dragged a stool back and plopped it down right next to you.
The difference between the two was almost comical: Seonghwa keeping his distance but a watchful eye while Hongjoong saddled up close without a care in the world as he set up his lunch and dug in without a word.
“Make yourself comfortable I guess.” You mumbled, turning to your meal.
Hongjoong let out a pleased hum, cheeks full of food as he gave you both a thumbs up. Seonghwa replied with a scowl. “I guess I’ll do the talking.”
You just shrugged, focusing on your food just as Hongjoong was.
“For starters, we’ll be increasing your access to our files. We’ll be assigning you the Green Vipers which San is the most familiar with. We want you to familiarize yourself with all the information we have available and run it all by San. When he believes you’re ready, we’ll pull you fully on the case.” Seonghwa sipped on his drink, which you believed was some strawberry type if the pink coloring was anything to go by. You were still trying to wrap your head around the news that they were not only giving you access but letting you work a case. “What’s the catch?”
Hongjoong mumbled something with his mouth full of food before he was met with a glare from Seonghwa. He swallowed and then repeated himself. “Yeosang needs to install a security program on your laptop, and this is technically a test. The first time you do something to jeopardize the mission- you’re off of it and stuck at this desk with nothing to do until we can transfer you out.” He chased the food with his drink before turning to you fully. “Do well, and we’ll start you in the field where the real work happens here.”
It was hard to clamp down on the excitement that surged through you, well aware your eyes and posture lit up at the news.
“You're not just yanking my chain? I can stay?” You looked between the two, Hongjoong grinning with amusement while Seonghwa had a frown on his face but nodded. “Thank you!”
“Don't thank us yet, you have a lot to prove.” Seonghwa warned, finally digging into his food. “And we aren't going easy on you.”
“I told you I like the challenge.” You pointed at him, then looked at them each. “I know you have your reasons for not trusting me, a lot of the work you do is secretive and it's years of progress. I don't plan on undoing that, I have an idea of how bad these mafia groups are.” Some of the articles you had found during your solo research had been stomach churning. 
Hongjoong paused in his eating, nodding. “Definitely a firecracker, but I like that.”
“Captain, please don't flirt with the newbie.”
“Why not? Flirting is harmless.”
You rolled your eyes but bit back a smirk. “You're the smallest one here, I'll pass.”
“Oh? Size matters to you? I thought you liked a challenge.”
Now you did smirk. “Really? And you're a challenge?”
“I'm good at all positions, so you tell me.”
“Oh my God you two.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Seonghwa shook his head. “I don't need this, I'm barely holding this unit together as is- can we not chase tail?”
Hongjoong pouted out his pretty lips, batting his lashes at Seonghwa. “Why not? All work and no play makes Captain a dull boy.”
“Talk about an old married couple damn.” You laughed, grinning at the two of them.
The glare they each gave you was identical. “We aren't.”
“Mhmm sure.”
“Back to the point-” Hongjoong started.
“There was no point, drop it.”
“No point yet, don't ruin my fun Hwa.”
“Please-” 
You decided to let the two bicker, watching them as you ate. This was a stark contrast to the Vice-Captain you had met before, a good portion of his icy demeanor had melted with his Captain’s partial approval. Despite his disapproving view of the Captain's current behavior, you believed that his loyalty was unbreakable.
You thought you had that once. With that thought entering your mind, you set your drink down and cleared your throat. “Was there anything else the two of you needed?”
They stopped mid bicker and turned to you, noticing your drop in mood. Seonghwa straightened, back to business. “No, I'll inform Yeosang and San to come over so you can get started on that. You can head home when San says and we'll see you Monday.” Gathering up his things he moved around the desk. “Come on Captain.” Like a mother he started picking up the mess his Captain made.
Hongjoong didn't move though, instead fixing you with an intense stare. “I do have one question actually-”
“I'll see if I can answer it.”
Hongjoong stood when nudged, instead holding up the picture of your old unit Christmas party. “Which one were you dating or sleeping with?”
First you had no idea when he had found the hidden photo as you had been right next to him the whole time. Second, his question filled you with so much fury that you surged to your feet. “The fuck?”
Hongjoong shrugged nonchalantly, setting it down. “Mmm so I was right-”
“No! None of them! They were my friends and colleagues- I didn't do anything with them.”
“Doesn't mean feelings didn't blossom.” As you glared he just grabbed the stool and moved to follow Seonghwa. “I'm not going to judge you for it, how hypocritical of me after I was clearly flirting? Relationships are something the team needs to know about, in or out of the Precinct.”
Your fire lowered to a simmer, taking a deep breath to calm yourself further. “Because they could get compromised?” You had to remember just how dangerous this unit was compared to your old one.
He blinked a few times before nodding, giving a thumbs up. “Yep, that's the reason. If it happens just let us know. Man, woman, multiple- we don't care but we do have to know.” 
“Multiple?” You squeaked out, flabbergasted as he just chuckled.
“Mhmm- we'll send San and Yeosang over, firecracker.” With the change in subject he left, leaving you too stunned to speak.
You didn't like him poking around in your personal life but you hadn't lied. Warily you picked up the picture, eyes scanning the familiar faces and softening on more than one. Multiple? That was something your old unit might have found shameful, one of many reasons your now hurt feelings were never verbalized.
That was in the past now, you just wanted to focus on the now and get through this. Stay a detective, feel like you were making a difference again, and do it right this time.
San came down the hall first, a smile on his face as he took Seonghwa's spot and leaned on the counter. “So I heard the news, you're my temporary partner?”
“Temporary?” You had fixed your desk in that short time and gathered your wits about you. 
He nodded. “Correction, more like you are under my wing. I think you'll do just fine but for starters, give me a run down of what you know.”
That you could do.
“The city is basically split in half by older, traditional Mafia and new gangs-” You started off, pulling your laptop open and looking for your notes. “The southern part of the city has always been smaller gangs, which I think the three big organizations profited off of their turf wars. That was until about a decade ago when things changed and the number of gangs lessened while their power grew. Now there are 3 major ones that, while they don't match the power of the bigger 3, they hold enough power in the city to be a threat.”
“You got all this on your own? Impressive.” He whistled appreciatively, looking over your notes. “And just from looking online?”
You shook your head. “I called in a few favors and asked some colleagues.”
“Alright let me quiz you- what are the names of the big 6?”
“The White Guardians, Red Wolves, and Golden Circle are the big 3; the others are Blue Goblins, Green Vipers, and finally the Black Pirates. They can usually be identified by some color or accessories while more important players get tattoos.” 
As if your early troubles were nonexistent, you were about to throw yourself into a tangent explaining each of them when Yeosang cleared his throat. Clenching your jaw, you just silently handed your laptop over before he asked.
“I can do it here.” Stepping behind the desk and effectively caging you in, he plugged in a flash drive and went right to work. Cornered on all sides, you pressed back into the corner to be further from Yeosang, still stinging from his earlier comments. 
“You were saying?” San urged as if sensing your distress.
Tearing your eyes off of Yeosang you looked back over to San. “The big 6- right. I can give you territorial layout as well as their main operations. It's just a rough outline, since I don't have access to your files yet, but it was the only start I could think of.”
Once more he whistled appreciatively, grinning to the point you could admire his dimples a bit more. “That's still impressive. We gave you a hostile work environment and limited resources and you deduced that much from this desk?”
You could feel the tips of your ears burning but paid no mind to it. “It's really just basic knowledge that any of the members of these gangs would know, you don't need to show praise for something so simple.”
“Mmm true. Well, enlighten me anyways. The White Guardians, what do you know?”
“They're the most secretive of the big 3, only mentioned by other gangs who had dealt with them. Not much is known by them but anytime one of their members or their sub-unit, The Silver Dogs, get in trouble with the law, everything seems to get wiped clean. All that's known for sure is their territory is the northwest where crime levels are low. I would suspect they mostly likely have law-” You stopped yourself, realizing you were just about to divulge too much information.
But San was watching you with intent, motioning for you to continue.
However when you were about to relent, the deep voice next to you reminded you that the two of you weren't alone. “They most likely have the largest amount of dirty law officials, cops, judges and congressmen in their pocket. Right?”
You looked over at him, nodding slowly. “I kept that out of my notes though…”
“I didn't have to read them to know. We assumed the same. They will be the hardest to take down- if we can at all.” He went back to your laptop, messing with some download screen with a quick moving bar under a bunch of code.
Your shoulders slumped at that admission. “If you can't completely eradicate the criminal organizations, what goal do you have?”
“Lessening it. Crime is never going to go away, there will always be people who play by their rules and corrupt others- our job is to prevent as much damage by those groups as possible and diminish what we can.” San's tone was softer than before, as if urging you to have some hope.
You wanted to. “I see-”
“Onto the next one- The Red Wolves.” He prompted.
Clearing your throat you went on another tangent. “The Red Wolves are Northeast along the river. Out of all the organizations they have the dirtiest hands and some of the most ruthless. Crimes of human trafficking, and prostitution rings as well as the most recorded crimes committed by minors and to minors. They have the biggest feud with the White Guardians who, according to some Red Wolves, have been interfering with their work for years now. They are also the only gang that doesn't go through the Black Pirates for access to transportation by water considering they have territory of half the river. What really makes them fierce is their hitman unit the Crimson hounds. Whatever their tactics, it's enough to keep the others from attempting to interfere.”
“Again- I'm really impressed. Now the last one, the Golden Circle.”
“Center city and the oldest of the three. Most likely composed of corporations that use the Golden Circle as their cover for illegal activities. Their main motivator seems to be profit by any means stemming two sub groups: The Pink Boas and Gray Bones. The Boas are a believed-to-be all female group that handles underground brothels and club life in downtown. The Gray Bones are their equivalent of the Hounds, their hitman group. Out of the three mafia families, this is the only one that's been hit by the newer gangs.”
“Oh? Why do you think that?”
“Territory massacre in the west between them and the Blue Goblins. The Goblins won,  gaining access to downtown enough to spread out their drug distribution. They are the most power hungry, even using minors. They have a lot of younger members, runaways and troubled kids from the slums, so they feel as if they have something to prove and nothing to lose.”
Yeosang slams your laptop shut suddenly, spooking you out of your rant that you might have been getting too passionate about. “How do you know?”
“Excuse me?”
“How have you gathered information like that? From this desk?” He was staring you down with his jaw clenched, leaving you perplexed.
You narrowed your eyes in response. “Because I remember quite a few of the names that came up- they were kids I had to arrest, that we had to charge and interrogate and send off to Juvie. So I knew some of them.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Or did you forget that and just want to assume I'm involved?” The sneer came out from habit but it was too late to take back now. 
Yeosang sighed, pushing the laptop towards you. “I know your file inside and out; you're too impulsive for it. Although you act like that… like you have nothing to lose and everything to prove.”
You lifted a brow, stepping closer. “So what if I do? Do you think it makes me any less of a detective?”
“Of course we don't-”
“I wasn't asking you, San.” You winced as you said it. “Shit I'm-”
“No no it's okay.” San stood up straight, avoiding your eyes. 
“I'm done here so I'll be leaving.” Yeosang said instead, making a hasty retreat and leaving you with a bad taste in your mouth.
Swallowing hard, you leaned on the desk to try and capture his eyes with yours. “San? Are you pouting?”
“No-” He most definitely was. “Okay maybe. I don't know how they can stand it when you snap at them, it wounds me.” He put a hand over his chest, effectively lifting some of the tension.
“It was a reflex, I'm sorry.”
“Hmmm…. Apology accepted. Now, where were we?” He flashed a charming smile that disarmed you and had you scrambling for your train of thought. 
Already Yeosang was forgotten again and so were his words. At least for now.
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Taglist (form): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse | @philijack | @lelaleleb | @idfkeddieishot | @isiloiale | @candypop1611 | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames | @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @fire-and-flame | @sugarnspice630 | @hongjoongswifefr | @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu | @auroreen | @sousydive |  @fatalt | @asteroidshowers | @Bts-army380 |
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catapparently · 10 months ago
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Kaz Brekker Headcanons
Cat entering her hc era thanks to my maid of honor @x-liv25 . Please go read her TIG headcanons!
MASTERLIST
Kaz once said "you shouldn't make friends with crows," "why not?" "they don't have any manners." I headcanon that he tried to feed a crow and actually be nice to it but it bit him so now he forever holds the grudge
He has a stack of makeup in his desk drawer in case he needs to change his face up a bit for a job and he's excellent at it
At some point, when he was still struggling with finding a job after Jordie's death, he stole someone's purse and found bronzer/contour that he used to draw himself abs to look strong and "hirable".
He doesn't mind touching animals without his gloves
He realized that when he tried to save an abandoned kitten in the rain when he was younger
He felt bad for it because it reminded him of him and Jordie
He saw it as a debt-ish to Jordie to save the kitten
It once brought Kaz a mouse as a gift and Kaz genuinely appreciated the gesture
Kaz POV: "What a distinguished gentleman who knows I'm worthy of great gifts and appreciation"
Kaz knew he couldn't really keep a cat in his line of work, it'd be a weakness, so when it was old enough, he snuck it into Pekka's office and watched the vicious little feline tear Pekka's stuff to shreds
"A cat after my own heart"
When Kaz got the Dregs tattoo, he didn't want the artist to touch him, so he tattooed the logo himself. It was a bit shaky but then he hired a Tailor to fix the edges without touching him
Alternative solution to the bad edges: He fixes them up with stolen foundation whenever he isn't wearing long sleeves or something that would cover it up.
They day he first saw Inej and she snuck up on him, he had a panic attack but hid it well
At this point in his life, he was used to being in control, to knowing everything. Having Inej sneak up on him (and knowing that she could have potentially killed him without him having time to retaliate had she been trained) freaked him out. He felt weak, Kaz Rietveld again.
Kaz spends half an hour every other day locked in his office without his gloves, lathering his hands in hand cream.
Whenever he'd grab someone by the collar or any form of violence with contact, the last thing the victim could think about is why his hands smell nice. Nobody ever lived to tell the tale.
He's a sucker for a good chocolate cake.
He absolutely HATES ice cream. It makes too much of a sticky gooey mess for him.
He also probably has a sensitive throat so he doesn't really eat cold/frozen stuff or drinks
Once he made a deal with Nina which resulted in him going to a café to buy her a pumpkin spice latte. Once he sniffed Nina's, he quickly bought another one for himself and chugged it before he could get back. Obviously he did that in a dark alleyway so that nobody could see him and use it as blackmail.
Once he used (obviously stolen) paint to decorate his very own set of cards.
He then made another elaborate plan of his and managed to auction them off for a grotesque amount of kruge.
Probably forged DeKappel's signature on the back of each with perfect precision
For those that forgot, DeKappel is some famous painter in the series. Kaz stole a DeKappel oil painting from Van Eck.
Help I didn't realize how fun HCs were, I could make a thousand of these
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jessi4fanfics · 6 months ago
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Beautiful
|Poppy fails to realize her beauty- which is why God created Branch 😌✨|
Branch knocked on the door of Poppy's pod, waiting expectantly for her usual cheery answer. She knew his usual curt knock and always answered with an excited squeal and "Come Innnnnn," in a sing-song voice.
 But today that call didn't come.I
Just a-- groan? Did she just groan about his arrival?!
 "Uhm, Poppy?" Branch said through the door. "It's me. I just came to pick you up for our date."
 Silence.
 "If you need me to come back later, I will," he offered. What was he saying? It was like nine at night, all he wanted to do was go to bed, despite how much he loves his dates with his girlfriend. He wasn't about to leave the date at the appointed time, stay awake, then come back. That was silly, and honestly, exhausting.
 "Branch..." The groan from that loved voice that he knew so well drifted from the inside. "Can we just-- do this another day?!"
Branch frowned. "What? Re-schedule? You have never done that ever." His eyebrows furrowed. His ear pressed against the door. "Honey, are you okay?!!"
 "Yeah, I...no?" Another groan of disgust, then a bang! as something inside fell to the floor. 
 Branch flinched.
 "Poppy?"
 More silence.
 "Poppy, can I come in?"
 A shriek of annoyance. "Fine!! Whatever, it's too late anyway! I don't care, I don't, I--"
Branch opened the door and entered right away. His eyes widened at the mess everywhere. Clothes were thrown in the floor, along with purses, combs and brushes.
Chairs and a table, plus a few chairs had been knocked over into the floor. They all lay there looking sad.
Then her mirror stand, right beside her bed, with small light bulbs surrounding the actual mirror, was a mess, the one drawer hanging out, her makeup bag spilling out it's contents into the desk, but the biggest shock was Poppy herself.
She was sitting in front of her mirror on a small cushion seat, her hair sticking up everywhere, her mascara dripping from her lashes, her green strapped dress that she was currently wearing all wrinkled and put on backwards.
As soon as he entered, she shrieked and covered her face. "Don't look at me!!"
Branch covered his eyes with his hand. "Why not?"
"I look terrible, that's why!" Her voice shook with embarrassment and dread.
Branch lowered his hand as he neared her. "Don't be ridiculous, Poppy."
 Poppy sobbed into her hands. "I'm not. I look terrible!!"
 Branch reached out and caressed her shoulder. "What's wrong? I've never seen you like this."
 Poppy swiped at her eyes. "I always behave like this before dates. I just usually have more time to freak out and worry about...well, everything. I finished work late, so I'm super overwhelmed-"
 "Whoa. Hold up." He sat on the bed next to her and looked into her mascara dripping eyes. "Did you say...always before dates?"
 Poppy sniffed and didn't answer.
 "Poppy, don't tell me you worry about your looks before dates."
She never seemed like that type of girl.
"I always worry about my looks around you." Poppy sighed shakily. "I know that doesn't matter much to you, but when you comment on how pretty I look or so on, I always feel obligated to keep those standards, if it pleases you that much, you know, and I worry that it doesn't and so I need more time to-" she stopped to swipe again at the tears rolling down her cheeks. "If you give me another thirty minutes, I will have my makeup perfect and hair and dress ready too, I promise, I just-"
"Poppy, please!!" Branch scratched the side of his head. "I didn't - oh gosh... I didn't mean to make you so stressed when I complimented you." 
"I'm not stressed," Poppy argued.
Branch eyed her up and down, then raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Poppy shrugged slightly.
Branch opened his mouth, closed it again, still in shock while looking at the crazy mess she was in. Her hair was literally yanked absolutely everywhere. Her eyes were red, and the strap to the dress was hanging down on her arm instead of shoulder.
He began to chuckle.
The laugh startled Poppy and she just sat there, staring at him. Was he laughing at her?! Did she really look that bad?!!
Her eyes began to tear up. "I'm sorry, Branch," she whispered, ashamed.
"No, it's not that," Branch continued to chuckle as he stood up and fixed her dress strap, setting it firmly on her shoulder. He smiled at the Poppy watching him, confused, through the mirror.
 "Then what is it?" she asked.
 Branch stood behind her, reached around and lifted her chin up high, to look herself straight in the mirror with both of his hands.
She quivered.
 "You're just- so beautiful. That's all."
 Beautiful? But...
 "How? I look dreadful!" Poppy looked back up at him, arguing. "I haven't even fixed my dress yet."
 "You don't need to be fixed up to be beautiful, Poppy," Branch smirked at her. "And you don't need makeup, fixed hair, a wonderful dress or any of that either."
 Poppy now looked down. "You do if you don't have natural beauty." 
Branch looked at her, surprised by her response. "Natural beauty? Of course you have natural beauty, Poppy."
 Poppy glanced at her face again, then shook her head. "Heck, no. It's just a face. And a plain old body structure. Nothing special. Nothing beautiful or pretty."
 Branch frowned. He got on his knees, and set his arms in hers so she had to look him in the eyes.
 "Poppy... I don't think you realize just what a wonder you are. I'll show you." He reached up and took her chin in her hands.
 Her eyes searched him and he smiled. "Your eyes... Do you know what color they are?"
She shrugged. "Magenta."
 "Right." Branch chuckled again. "Do you realize how much love and joy shines in those eyes, Poppy? How much my legs just want to buckle up and give way when you turn to me and look at me with them? How pure and amazing they are? Their color and the light they shine with?"
 He leaned up to kiss her eyelids and she smiled as she closed her eyes.
 "And don't even get me started on that smile of yours!" Branch smirked again, caressing her cheek. "If I thought your eyes shine a lot, then it's nothing compared to your smile."
 Poppy only smiled bigger and have a short giggle.
 "And your laugh. Oh." Branch gave a scoff. "It's only the most melodious sound my ears have ever heard. I shiver when I hear that sound, Poppyseed."
 He kissed her quickly, then reached for her hair. "Your hair is perfectly coily, perfectly straight when it needs to be. I love the way it could around my finger so easily-" he twisted his finger, encircling it with her pink hair. "And how I can give it a light teasing tug without hurting you." A tug on her hair, and another giggle escaped her.
Branch stood up and kissed the top of her head, but kept his face buried in it. "I could say so much about the rest of you but I think it's time for our date."
 Poppy jolted up again, alarmed. "Branch! I can't go out like this!"
 "You can and will." Branch grabbed her hand, intertwined his fingers with hers, kissed her hand (he loved her hands as well), and dragged her out of her pod.
 "Branch! Wait! Can I at least put my hair up?!" Poppy begged.
 "Nope!" Branch laughed. "I like it all ruffled." He ran a hand through it, ruffling it up more.
"Branch, please don't, it looks so ba-" She was surprised when Branch used his hand exploring her hair to yank her closer to him and kissed her.
Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pressing him closer, as his other hand reached around her hips, gently caressing her back.
When he pulled apart, Poppy whispered, "I do look messed up, Branch."
 "You do," he whispered back. "But you also look perfect."and
Poppy thought for a moment. "Do I really have natural beauty, Branch? Without the add-ons?"
Branch smiled. "Everyone has natural beauty. The thing is whether people choose to recognize it or not." He pressed his forehead against hers. "But you have the most beautiful natural beauty I've seen in a woman," he joked.
Poppy giggled. "Thanks," she whispered in return as they shared one last kiss before continuing their date.
Idek. Idekkkk, I don't, I don't. Thx for reading, you are literally the best for reading past the chapter explanation. Hahahahaha, HEARTSSS ❤❤❤
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fancyfeathers · 1 year ago
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Hi:) can I please get yandere Poe headcanos?
I absolutely love your writing<3
I can’t count how many times in a day my girlfriend and I say that one dub line from when Ranpo meets Poe, “I AM POE.”
it’s just so fun to say 🤭
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Alright say it with me, obsessive Poe. It would already would be hard to catch his attention due to how much of a recluse he is, but the moment you do this man is absolutely head over heels.
Would he every outwardly express his feelings that may help to lead to a healthy relationship? Ha don’t be silly, he’ll watch you from the shadows, stalking you, taking notes both mentally and physically on your likes and dislikes, your friends and family althoughs a bit begrudgingly, your pets, work, hobbies, and so on.
Hell you probably won’t meet him until months after he started stalking you and he finally gained the courage to talk to you face to face. I could see him bringing Ranpo along to help guide the conversation because it wouldn’t take long for Ranpo to find out about Poe’s little crush on you. I could also see this leading into Ranpo being yandere along with Poe, but we’ll save that for another time
So perhaps after that the two of you become friends, you completely oblivious to Poe’s unusual habits. You two will be perhaps about to go somewhere and Poe asks you to grab his bag for him while he goes to put his coat on or something, You grab the bag but grip on the way and the bag drops, everything slipping out and what you see is horrifying.
Photos of you, notes about you, notes about your loved ones, small items of yours. You just sit there is pure and utter shock that you don’t hear the footsteps of the equally horrified an behind you, albeit horrified for a much different reason. Poe didn’t want it to come to this, but now that you know you’ll leave him forever and he’ll never see you again. He’s a fumbling and nearly crying mess as he takes a book he writes from his desk and opens it, and with a golden light enveloping the room, the book falls to the ground and the only person left in the room is Poe.
He picks up the book with the most delicate touch, as if the book is you and he puts it in his desk drawer, locking it up tight. Perhaps one day you’ll escape, but that day is not today.
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lysenfeu · 5 months ago
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Devil in the Details •Part 3•
Captain John Price negotiates the terms of his unusual deal.
Rating: Mature
Eventual John Price x F!Reader
1.3k words, Slow Burn, Drabble/Short Form Writing
CW: Dark themes, Mentions of death, Grief, Supernatural events, Occultism, Demons, Corruption
(Part 1) (Part 2)
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The man takes a deep breath before squaring his shoulders and meeting your eyes with a steady, even gaze.
“I need to make a deal.”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he does. Why else would you be here?
“And what do you want, human?”
He walks over to the desk and you trail after him, as far as the circle allows you to move. He opens then shuts a drawer and comes to stand in front of you. You're much closer now, only a foot away as he holds up a photograph.
“Them. I want them.”
You peer curiously at the photo, reaching out to pluck it from his fingers. Four faces peer back at you, all men, wearing green army fatigues and matching smiles. One figure is immediately recognizable as the man before you, just more put together. You readily admit the man in the picture was rather handsome, in a rough, rugged way. You flick your eyes quickly between the photo and your summoner. Hm. You also have to admit, he still is. Glancing back at the photo, you look over the other three men standing next to him.
A broad-shouldered man with a shaggy cropped Mohawk and tanned skin, beaming at the camera. A blue baseball cap sticks out against the desert scenery and faded army green clothing, perched on top of a gorgeous man with an equally dazzling smile standing between the other two. The last figure has his face obscured, a black and white skull mask covering his features from view as he loomed behind the other men with his arm crossed against his chest.
You hand the photo back and shrug your shoulders.
“A lovely bunch, I'm sure. But what do you want with them, hm?”
The man tenses, his hand not clutching the photograph clenching into a fist by his side. “I want them back.”
Ah.
Understanding finally reaches you. Of course, this is about a loss. Three losses rather. You let your gaze rake over the man once more, taking in all the little details more closely. He’s desperate, that's clear enough. A far cry from the man in the picture, with once proud, tall shoulders now hunched in shame, as if his large frame was attempting to force him physically away from the pain of failure and guilt. Sunken, hollow eyes, bleary from too many whiskeys and late sleepless nights filled with nightmares. He's an absolute mess.
“Who are they?”
He blinks at you. “Is that important?”
You click your tongue in annoyance.
“Of course it is. You want me to ferry souls back from the dead, you could at least tell me what's so special about them, hm?”
You may have just been trying to stall, but you were also starting to become interested in this whole affair.
He takes a deep breath. “They’re my team. Those men are the best of the best. Not just to their country, to the world, but to me. I brought them up, I put them in the line of fire and I let them down. They shouldn't have to pay for my mistakes. They deserved more. They deserve more. This is my only chance to make it right.”
It's a truly impassioned plea, even managing to tug on your blackened heartstrings. A desperate man going to the ultimate lengths to fix his mistakes. You have no idea how he ended up calling you and you are definitely not the right demon for this job but it's certainly a compelling story.
“It's a rather significant request. What do you have to offer in exchange?”
The man doesn't hesitate. “What do you want?”
You manage to hide your amusement. Oh, he's that desperate is he? Of course, he is. But this was your perfect out. Even humans have their limits, the selfish creatures that they are. You could negotiate your way out of this quickly and not suffer any embarrassment.
“I know what I want, human.”
He patiently waits for you to continue.
“I want you. All of you. Your mind, body and soul, submitted to me and me alone, for the entirety of your existence.”
It was an enormous ask, an eternal debt of servitude is the highest possible price a demon can set. Even a desperate fool wouldn't so readily accept that kind of dema-
“Fine.”
You blink in mild surprise. He didn't even hesitate.
“Just like that? You'll give yourself away entirely?”
He sighs, voice thick with defeat. “If you bring them back, I'll give you anything you want.”
You can't believe it. “You'll be under my complete control, my little human puppet.”
Not a moment's hesitation before he responds. “Call me Pinocchio.”
“One tug of the strings and you'll dance any way I can make you.”
He tilts his head to the side, almost in challenge. “Waltz or foxtrot?”
Fuck.
You’re really hoping he would just give up, that would make this a lot easier.
He clears his throat.
“Can…I see them first?”
Double fuck.
Clever man. Annoyingly clever. You’re outright frowning now. Your tail flicked back and forth behind you, a nasty little anxious habit you'd never gotten rid of.
“You doubt my abilities, human?”
He purses his lips “Just looking for a little show of faith within our negotiation.” He bites out the word faith, well aware of its ironic use within the current demonic context. The longer he talks, the more confident he's becoming and that's a problem for you.
He has every right to question you, unfortunately.
Not only had you not done this before, you weren't even sure you were allowed to. Death magic wasn't in your traditional bag of tricks, regardless of how many tomes you'd read on the subject. You knew how it was supposed to work in theory but a demon of your status shouldn't be attempting it. You were built for entertainment, not resurrection or serious magic. But part of you was still intrigued. The promise of a human thrall was enticing, the freedom and power that would give you would be incredible. And trying forbidden rites was just icing on the cake…
Here goes nothing.
You take a deep breath and focus, channeling the corrupted form of magic flowing in your long-dead veins and extending it out. Soul-shaping was a matter of intent and determination, sifting through the realm of the Dead to find the correct tether to tug on.
Your sigh of relief as you successfully pull at three threads is thankfully swallowed by the low howl of the wind outside and pitch-black smoke billowing into the room, casting a thick curtain of inky blackness along the wall.
Dark shapes swirl and dance in the shadows, outlining three bulky human forms built of nothing but smoke and memories. Three pairs of eyes blink back at you from the darkness. Bright blue, sharp and eager. Light brown, harsh and stoic. Dark brown, curious and calculating. His breath catches in his throat as he meets the gaze of each pair of floating eyes, emotion clouding in his chest and gripping at his lungs. He reaches out a hand but before he can make contact the smoke dissipates and the forms blow away into nothingness.
He whirls around in a flurry of motion, eyes wild with sorrow.
“Bring them back! Now!”
You sigh as your tail flicks more furiously from side to side.
“We need to make the deal first.”
A puff of smoke and a scroll of yellowed parchment appears not a second later, hanging in the air right in front of his fallen face.
“You sign this and I own you. Where you go, I go. Where you sleep, where you eat, there I am. Haunting every minute of your waking moments and every second of your dreams. You'll never be free of me as long as you live. Do you understand?”
He ignores your serious tone, easily batting away the desperate warning you're giving him, all for the flicker of hope dancing in his heart, cutting through the pain etched in his very being. “But they'll be here?”
You try not to let your voice waver as you answer.
“Yes.”
What you really mean to say is:
Probably.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
He reaches for a pen across his desk.
“We have a deal.”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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no-phrogs-in-hats · 2 years ago
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Take a Look in the Mirror (!!!)
Pairing: Larissa Weems x Fem!reader
Warnings: SMUT, desk sex, mirror sex, office sex, oral (r receiving), mommy kink
A/N: Short little drabble, loosely based off of this post
Opening the door to Larissa’s office, you get the final bit of a phone call she was having.
“Alright, I’ll see you then.”
Grinning, you shut the door and lean against it. An ache had settled between your legs as soon as you woke up that morning. The sight of Larissa in her matching undergarments had sent your mind spiraling to every filthy thought imaginable.
Larissa glanced up at you from her computer, “What are you grinning about?”
“Nothing,” you respond, and walk over to her desk. You lean over, kissing her sweetly on the lips and shutting her laptop. “You know…I was thinking…”
“Oh?” Larissa raised an eyebrow before chuckling and opening her laptop. “That’s a first.”
Your mouth fell open in mock offense and you laughed, closing the computer again. “I was thinking about this morning…and how you left me hanging. Maybe you could make it up to me right now.”
“I would love to, darling,” she said, pecking you on the lips. “However, I have a meeting in thirty minutes.”
You scoffed and rounded her desk. Turning her chair toward you, you lean into her ear, “Oh, please. As if I could last that long.”
You could hear her breath catch in her throat and you grinned as you relished in your victory, pushing Larissa’s work aside and hopping onto her desk.
She looked at you with hunger in her eyes, pushing the skirt of your dress up to your hips and spreading your legs. As Larissa placed soft kisses up your thighs, she nipped at the skin, leaving behind faint marks on the skin. 
While she continued her teasing, your head fell back. Your eyes made immediate contact with the mirror above you. On the ceiling, you could see everything: Larissa’s head between your legs, your trembling form–it was almost too much to bear and you felt the knot in your gut already forming.
Larissa looked up at you before shifting her gaze to the ceiling where she met your eyes in the mirror. “Oh, you naughty girl…” She pulled aside your underwear and groaned. “Look how wet you are. Is this all for mummy?”
“God, yes,” you breathed, gasping after she pulled your underwear down and licked a stripe up your slit. 
“And as always,” she mumbled, “you taste absolutely delicious.”
You let out a moan as Larissa’s lips wrapped around your clit and sucked hard, her tongue following with languid circles. Your hands gripped the edge of the desk before moving to her hair. She took it immediately and interlaced your fingers together. 
“Ah, ah, ah,” she said. “Can’t go to that meeting looking like a mess, can I?”
You shook your head and gulped, “No…” Your breath sped up, chest heaving and pleasure clouding your thoughts as you gripped her hand. “Oh my god, Larissa, please don’t stop.”
With your legs shaking, Larissa let go of your hand and held them in place. Her tongue sped up and your hand slapped over your mouth as your entire body shook. Whimpers fell from your mouth as Larissa kept going. When she pulled away, her lipstick was smudged and you let out a breathless chuckle.
Larissa pulled a compact mirror, a makeup wipe, and a tube of lipstick from her desk drawer. As you caught your breath, she reapplied the lipstick, and once done, she stood from the chair and placed a kiss on your cheek.
She chuckled before licking her thumb and wiping the fresh lipstick mark off your cheek. Looking down at her watch and back up to you. “Not even fifteen minutes, darling.”
You pull up your underwear and huff, “Well, how can I last that long when you’re so good at this?”
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timeslugarts · 1 year ago
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Hello! I love your writing!! Can I request Lucifer X Reader where the reader is a sinner that was originally from the Arctic (say, Alaska)? And the reader is lowkey suffering from the heat of hell? Sorry it’s so specific but this has been on my mind since I watched Hazbin hotel xd-
(Can I be ❤️‍🔥 anon? Is that taken?)
Hi anon!! I'm sorry this took so long, but like work and regular adult life and blah blah blah. I really hope you enjoy it!!
❤️‍🔥 READER X LUCIFER
When the two of you had arrived home from a late night gala, Lucifer immediately knew what was coming. 
He chuckled
Without hesitation, as soon as the front door closed behind you, you had begun stripping down to the bare essentials. In nothing but your underwear to relieve yourself of this blasted heat.
Ever since "moving" to Hell life has been somewhat miserable, if only because you weren't used to this temperature! Any chance you got, you would immediately shimmy out of all your clothes and lay starfished out on the floor.
Lucifer thought it was adorable. He felt bad of course, but there was only so much he could do considering you guys were in Hell. 
If guests ever decided to come over he had to make sure you knew, if not it could lead to come fairly embarrassing situations. Charlie was a blushing mess when she accidentally walked in on you sprawled on the couch. 
"Luciiiii." You leaned on him, bare chest pressing into his back. "It's soooo hot today." 
You were making it very hard to focus on his work. "My dear, if you keep this up it's only going to get hotter." He spoke softly, eyes lidded, but the grin on his face was unmistakable.
"It's too hot for that." You rolled your eyes and stretched across the guest chair on the opposite side of his desk. Making very sure none of your limbs were touching each other. 
Lucifer pouted. "I can't believe you'd deny the King of Hell his desires?" 
"Maybe when the King of Hell learns to turn the AC down, then he can get his desires." Sarcasm dripping from your voice. If you could roll your eyes any harder you would. 
"Well if that's the case-" Lucifer said leaning down to one side of his desk. 
You heard him rifling through his bottom drawer for something, which peaked your curiosity. You leaned forward a little to get a better look.
"I WAS gonna wait for your birthday, but it seems someone's a little impatient… ah there it is." Lucifer pulled out a small light blue rubber duck, it almost made you laugh if you didn't know the man handing you the seemingly innocuous duck.
You gently took from his hands and gasped immediately as your fingers brushed against it. 
Lucifer was grinning like mad. He so liked to give presents, especially when he knew you were going to love it. 
The duck was cool, almost icy to the touch. It felt great against your burning skin, you smiled up at Lucifer, eyes soft as you looked at the thoughtful man. 
"But wait, there's more!" He leaned forward and pressed a small button on the duck's head. Its mouth opened up and a small fan started blowing air from its beak. You giggled.
"Luci this is incredible!" You were mesmerized by this little duck, who would've thought that Lucifer Morningstar, damner of humanity, was the most thoughtful person you've ever met?
"Hold on." He laughed, taking your hand holding the duck into his own. He shook it gently. The duck started to snow, it was like a snow globe, but on the outside. You were enraptured. The soft snowflakes drifted from the small toy, vanishing into the space around it. 
"Lucifer, this is absolutely beautiful." You beamed and he returned your smile, pleased that you liked his little gift.
You swiftly removed yourself from your chair and crashed your body into his. He chuckled heartily as your arm encircled his neck. His own hands coming up to rest gently on your hips. 
"Maybe a little heat isn't such a bad thing." You said with a sly smile. 
"Oh?" A devilish smirk soon took over his own face as he pulled you into a passionate kiss.
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lowkeyhollland · 14 days ago
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bed chem
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peter parker x reader you & peter are roommates, but the absolute complete opposite of each other. or are you? chapter 2 <- chapter 3
“What are you doing here?” You ushered him into your room and slammed the window shut. 
“Wanted to make sure you were… okay,” he breathed out. You looked around confused and frustrated that you couldn’t see his expression. The hero then stumbled onto the floor as his breaths became heavier. 
“Yeah… I’ll just… stay here for a minute.” He accepted his defeat.
“Oh my god! Your leg!” Despite not seeing it before, you noticed his leg was bleeding. You blamed your drunken state for not seeing it earlier. 
“Just bleeding out, nothing new,” he let out a soft chuckle as you grabbed a fresh washcloth from your drawer. Remembering what he told you last time, you applied pressure to the wound. “Ow! A little too hard.” He jolted up in pain. 
“Sorry! Sorry!” You freaked out and gently pressed down on his leg. “Sorry, there’s just a lot on my mind.”
“Don’t need to apologize. Everything alright?” Spider-Man laid back down and stared up at the ceiling. 
“Just men are so frustrating,” you huffed out. “Why talk to me for seven months just to use me for fucking homework and sex.” Your words slurred together and you let out a bitter laugh. “You know? I’ve just been such a good friend. For fucks sake, I might as well be getting credit for his classes since I'm the one ending up writing his papers.”
Spider-Man just listened as you ranted out loud. Although he couldn’t really move if he wanted to, the company was nice for the two of you. 
“You know, spidey, never like a man.” You narrowed your eyes at the masked hero in all seriousness. 
“Are you drunk?” 
“Very much so.” 
“Are you always drunk?” The white eyes on his mask widened as he realized he shouldn’t have said that. 
“Believe it or not, I’m a normal college student, Spider-Man.” your voice was bitter. “You just so happened to catch me drunk, like, twice now. So…” your voice trailed off as you stared out into the night sky. 
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume you’re an alcoholic.” He let out a sigh while you just nodded along, not paying that much attention. “I’m sorry.”
“S’okay. I used to not be like this, so it just… catches me off guard sometimes.” He hummed softly, noting that he was following along. You removed the washcloth from his leg seeing that the bleeding had stopped. “Um, so, I only have Disney princess bandaids…” the hero laughed while you smiled, embarrassed. 
“Give me Rapunzel.” You laughed as you searched in the box for the purple bandaid with the blonde princess on it. 
Carefully putting the bandaid over the wound, you smiled victoriously at your work. The hero couldn’t help but stare at you in awe, your drunk self seemed so free and careless, something that he’d never seen in you before. The bandaid definitely did not cover the entire wound, but he thought to himself he’d bandage the rest up later. 
The two of you burst into a fit of giggles at the sight of the princess bandaid. To you, it was the silliest thing to happen that night and to the hero, he was just happy to see you smiling. 
-
“Hellooo, Y/n,” a snap in front of your eyes brought you back to reality. “You still with me?”
“Huh? Oh… yeah, sorry.” You sheepishly smiled at the blonde boy. 
“Does this sound good?” Nate handed his computer to you so you could proofread it. 
“You used the wrong ‘their,’” you pointed out. “Multiple times, actually.” He rolled his eyes and took his computer back to fix his spelling. 
You had been working together in his room for the last hour. You had been taking in his motorcycle posters and navy blue sheets, wondering if this was really what you wanted. 
“Hey, Nate?” He hummed in response. “Do you like me?” The question was blunt, but you just had to know. He got up from his desk and sat down next to you on the bed. 
“What kind of question is that?” You shrugged and messed with your rings. “Of course I like you, you’re one of my best friends.” A pit in your stomach formed at the word friends but he then cupped your face and lightly kissed you. “And you’re the best kisser ever.” He kissed you in between each word. 
“Thanks, I guess you’re not too bad yourself.” You lightly pushed his arm and he chuckled. 
“If this paper wasn’t due tomorrow I’d so be sucking your face off right now.” Your jaw dropped as you took his only pillow and hit him with it. He started laughing, trying to defend himself from the pillow attack. 
“I gotta go soon, by the way.” You tucked your hair behind your ears while Nate pouted. 
“You’re not sleeping over?” He whined like a child. 
“Oh, I didn’t know if you wanted me to or not.” 
“Of course I want my best girl to stay the night,” he twirled a strand of your hair around his hand. “Plus, I know some pretty fun activities we can do.” 
“Freak,” a smirk formed on your lips as you slightly pushed him away while he just laughed. “I have a reward for you if you finish your paper,” you winked at the blonde and you could’ve sworn you had never seen him start furiously typing so fast.  
-
Peter had noticed you were absent from the apartment for a while. Well, not completely absent. You would come back to grab a few things, but would never stay longer than three hours. He even stopped by as Spider-Man and your room was always empty. 
He wasn’t sure where you had gone, but you’d left a few texts for him, letting him know you were alive and just out and about. Though Peter liked having the place to himself, he’d grown so accustomed to your presence; making breakfast for two, the small talk before heading to bed, or even your music playing a little too loud that he never really minded (you had good music taste, he would just never admit it to your face). 
All of his friends were over for a baking and movie night. MJ sat on the couch with her penjamin while Ned excitedly opened the brownie mix box. 
“Where’s your roommate?” MJ asked. 
“At her friend’s place or maybe the club, I’m not sure.” Peter didn’t want to assume where you were, but Spider-Man could, and he thought you were either on a five-day bender or at your non-boyfriend’s house. 
“She seems so fun,” Harry chimed in. “I do love myself a party girl.”
“Dude, that’s my roommate,” Peter rolled his eyes at his playboy friend. 
“Is that all she does? she has to do other things— do you think she’s secretly a nerd?” Ned waltzed around the kitchen, grabbing each ingredient to add to this mixing bowl. 
“I doubt it. She’s majoring in business or something. All I know is that she wants to be in fashion or music and is horrible at math.”
“Sounds just like my type!” Harry cheered. “You’re so lucky you live with Y/n, she’s so hot.” Peter couldn’t help but feel a sense of pain in his chest after Harry’s comment. Although he knew you were talking to someone, maybe he empathized with you for his friend’s lovesick comments. 
“Home!” The door swung open “Oh! Hey guys!” You greeted everyone. There was a chorus of heys as you walked in. 
“How are you?” Peter asked. 
“Good! Sorry, I’m not staying long. I’m just grabbing a few things then heading out,” you responded as you hurriedly walked past. Peter frowned, allowing himself to be a little sad that he’d be alone for the night yet again. 
“Where are you going?” Harry asked as you returned with a tote bag filled with overnight things. 
“My friend, Madi’s place. She’s doing my hair tonight,” you said with such ease. 
“Wait, your friend cuts your hair?” MJ asked. 
“Yeah! I mean, it’s cheaper than going to a salon.” 
“Cool.” MJ laid back on the couch and closed her eyes. 
“Do you, uh— do you want some brownies? Before you go?” Peter asked but you eyed him suspiciously, darting between him and MJ. “Nothing’s in them, Ned made these.” He sheepishly smiled, scratching the back of his neck. 
“Sure! How silly, I was planning on making brownies at Madi’s.” You bit into the brownie but Peter and Ned’s eyes went wide. Your lips pressed into a line. “This was my brownie mix, wasn’t it?”
“I swear I thought Ned bought it a while ago!”
“I thought May dropped it off for Peter!” They both defended themselves while you let out a laugh. 
“S’alright. These are really good, Ned, so I'm not upset at all.” you smiled as you finished the brownie. “I gotta go, but I’ll see y’all around.” You waved before leaving the apartment.
“She’s sweet,” Ned commented and Peter just shook his head, his eyes not leaving the door. 
“You think she’d be into me?” Harry asked his gaze also toward the door. 
“Keep it in your pants, Osborn!” MJ yelled from the couch. 
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yumecel · 11 days ago
Text
Fixation 💙
yandere!neuvillette / f!reader | 0.7k words
summary: oral fixation neuvillette for anon
specifics: ooc, neuvillette centric pov
Part 3 of Pervert Neuvillette.
[ReadMe 🔗] [1 🔗] [2 🔗] [3 📍]
tws: yandere, stalking, nonconsensual sexual activity
i promise i’m 18+, i promise i read the warnings, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know one thousand curses will karmically descend on me should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]
The Iudex has no vices.
That’s what the people of Fontaine believe. They’d be very surprised to know of how wrong they were, which is why Neuvillette must guard such secrets with unwavering ferocity.
Especially from you.
You’re very sweet to him. Very understanding. And when he looks at you, he sees a bare neck he wants to bite into. Every part of your skin begs to be marked as his territory. He keeps his office cold sometimes just to see your erect nipples underneath that paper-thin blouse of yours. Imagines running his forked tongue around them and suckling gently. You’re always quite receptive in his imagination.
He doesn’t stare. But when he’s sitting and you’re standing, they’re at eye level, and he can’t be blamed for having an imagination.
And there are your lips, fluttering with words he pays utmost attention to. Or perhaps it’s more of the movement and the sound as opposed to the words. He wishes he could be more attentive, and there’s certainly no honour in his perverse obsession, but he really can’t stop himself. He is both a connoisseur and collector. You are the subject of this.
What you don’t know won’t hurt you. There is a little guilt, Neuvillette supposes, locked in that drawer along with one of your chewed pencils and a wrapper your lips had touched, but he’s always too far gone by the time he opens it to care. A hand ghosting over his crotch, desperately in need of a fix. Not going all the way, not in his office, just something-
But there’s a light knock on the door that can only be you, and he shuts it hurriedly.
“Come in.”
Nobody else would’ve been permitted to knock at this time. Sedene must’ve let you through.
“Are- are you busy?” You say, timidly walking towards his desk and no doubt acknowledging the way he looks startled. “It’s not that important. I hoped you would be on break right now.”
“No,” He replies, pulling papers towards himself in an attempt to imitate normality. “I planned on stopping soon. Perhaps you’d care to join me?”
You perk up a little, much to his delight.
“I’d love to, but first, have you seen my lip balm anywhere? I swear I left it in your office.”
There is a part of him that wants to tell you to wait one moment whilst he fishes it out of his drawer. He is the Iudex. Confronted with probable cause, he absolutely cannot lie.
“I believe I remember you having it, but…”
You put up your hands, perhaps a little ashamed of bothering him over something so trivial. Oh, if only you had dull excuses to come into his office every day.
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll probably reappear.” You laugh, cutting him off.
He’ll buy you a new one. You don’t need to know the motivations behind your loss of it. And you certainly don’t need to know of the rest of his hoard. Tonight, he will selfishly take it out of the drawer and learn what your lips taste like. He will clench his fingers around it and feel a guilt like no other, but for one brief moment, a deep, dark part of him is somewhat fulfilled.
Which is certainly enough reason to do it over and over again.
———
You’ve been having strange dreams as of late. Neuvillette knows this. He just wishes it didn’t mean you started to fear looking him in the eye.
Walking in dreams is trivial for a being as ancient as him.
It’s too tempting to imagine you waking up terrified with a sticky mess between your thighs. Some of the shame of his obsession seeping into you, defiling your body the same way you unknowingly defiled his mind. Tongue running through your folds, your voice ringing through his ears, moving together in harmony until the connection severs and he finds himself abruptly awoken.
He tries not to overdo it, he swears, but his appetite is insatiable.
Not quite ready to subject himself to the very human pain of rejection, he endures every moment he must be apart from you with his unassailable dignity. Though, he is well aware that it isn’t dignified to steal your lipstick-stained tissues, or kiss your knuckles with such ulterior motives, yet he knows how to make it all seem innocuous. When he’s finally running his tongue along the letter seal of your court order, he’ll know the next thing it meets will be the inside of your mouth. By then, it’ll be far too late to escape his clutches.
Perhaps then, he will finally be satisfied.
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year ago
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Hello!! I love your Carmy fics and (if you are still taking requests) I would love to see anything fluffy with him! Maybe like a late night up with him or literally anything!
This is completely different. It's giving more like first time meeting slash cute cuteness but I hope it's still something...
Chicago rain
Carmen wasn't a lady man. The anxiety that crippled him made any interaction awkward and robot-like at times. Hence why he practically always avoided any outing. Too many stimulations. Too little capacity in his brain to deal with it all.
But then you had walked into the Bear one day. The weather in Chicago was brutal. The wet spell was without doubt trying to drown the city at this point. Carmy was busy in the kitchen. It was past the breakfast rush but still a good chunk of time till the madness of lunchtime hit. So everything seemed slow. The pre-prep that was done last night allowed everyone to take a needed breather. Carmen heard voices from the front. Surprisingly Richie's voice didn't sound bitchy. A laughter echoed and the door to the kitchen quickly opened.
"I need one of our best sellers and someone to start a big cup of tea", Carmy frowned slightly, no one ordered tea here. "Cousin, do we have towels without holes in them?", Richie raked through the drawers, making a mess of a somewhat organized place. "Man put that back as it was, I'll grab one for the back", Carmen huffed as he walked towards his office. "Bring it out front", Richie called from behind him.
If only he had known. If only he had known that his heart was going to leap out of his chest the moment he brought that stupid tower out, he would have done a double take. Here you were, drenched to the last fiber of your skin. Shivering so hard Carmen could practically feel his own teeth aching from the friction. "Shit", he muttered under his breath, your big eyes darted up to meet him. You two stilled a bit yet your composure came back way quicker. "Sorry, I'll clean the floor, I know I left quite a...", but your rant was cut with Carmen stepping forward as he wrapped the towel around your shoulders. "Forget about it", he said, "It's nothing, Richie will take care of it".
Your cold fingers brushed over Carmen's warm hands and he practically let out a hiss at how cold you felt. His brain was working so fast that he didn't even realize it as he said, "Come over to the back. I have spare clothes you can change into". You looked back at him, shaking your head, "It's all okay, I'll grab a cup and will head out", you pointed to the absolute miserable weather outside. You both looked at it for a while before you huffed, "Yeah, I probably won't go out...", your voice died down. "Then, after you", Carmen gestured towards the kitchen and this time you didn't fight it.
You were pretty much drowning in Carmen's hoodie but the warmth of it was much appreciated. Carmen as you had learned along the way had prepared a full three-course meal. Pouring second of the soup. "My brother used to say that it warmed both the body and the soul", you smiled at that, especially when Carmen had sat to eat beside you. You watched him work after that. The rush of the kitchen. The shouting. The clacking of the pans. The smells. It all felt like a dance of some sort. A rhythm that was so easy to get lost in. You watched it till your eyes grew heavy and sleep pulled you in.
Carmen had felt your eyes on him all night. But oddly enough they didn't make him feel uneasy. Quite the opposite. He wanted to carry himself higher. Show off the place. The things he did best. By the time he pulled enough courage to look back at you, he had found you sleeping with your head resting on his office desk. Even in the midst of the chaos he had stepped out. Quickly whipping his damp hands before he took a proper look at you.
Never had Carmen seen a girl so pretty in his life. Rarely did any girl awaken any reaction in him. But there was something about you. Something that called out to him. Carmen gently ran his hand up and down your arm, making you flinch as you quickly sat up. Nearly falling over with the chair.
"God, sorry, fuck", you steadied yourself, Carmen's hand falling over your shoulders. He met your tired eyes, smiling softly, "Why don't you lay down", he nodded towards the little couch. It wasn't anything fancy, but it did the job. "No, I've caused too much trouble already", you muttered but Carmen shook his head. "Nap for a bit, we should close in a couple of hours. I'll drive you home then", he offered, getting drawn in by your eyes once more. You quickly tucked your hair behind your ear, "I will never repay you for all of this", you mumbled. Carmen shrugged his shoulders, suddenly feeling bold, "Have dinner with me sometime. If you want, of course... you can say no. I would understand and it's...", he ranted on. You reached to touch his hand and his movements stalled, "I'd like that", you muttered, feeling your cheeks growing crimson. Carmy only nodded before once again motioning you towards the sofa.
You followed his lead, tucking your legs towards your chest for more warmth. Carmen quickly looked around, reaching for his big blazer as he carefully draped it over your frame. You smiled up at him and he was quick to follow your lead especially when a yawn slipped past your lips. He watched you for a moment. Tucking the image of you deep into his brain before he slowly turned around, carefully closing the door behind him as the chaos of the kitchen sucked him right back into action. Yet the feeling of something good looming right behind these closed doors didn't leave him all evening long.
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