#maybe not entirely malicious at the start?

[distantdarlings]

LET ME // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.8K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Theodore Nott has been harassing you ever since he found out you had a crush on him. Now, you’ve been paired together for a project for McGonagall’s class and he has nothing good in mind.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in V), unprotected, sub!reader, Dom!Theo, slightly rough!dom!Theo, marking kink, slight size kink, bulge kink, brief dumbification, brief spit kink, reader wearing a skirt, light enemies to lovers, language, one (1) slap, name-calling, praise kink, slight degradation, public sex, fem!reader, oral (fem!receiving), Theo is persistent, not proof read (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Echo - XANU

- - -

Merlin, forgive whatever you had done to deserve the treatment you were currently receiving.

You thought back on every negative deed you’d done in the last year and still hadn’t found anything worthy of your horrendous luck.

The arrogant boy turned to stare you down, malicious intent etched into the unfortunately gorgeous features of his face.

You could feel your face contort into an expression of horror as you tore your eyes away from him and turned to Professor McGonagall.

“Professor, I— you started.”

“All partner decisions are final—no exceptions!” McGonagall finished, as if trying to answer the question you had before you could even voice.

You deflated into your seat, your mood dropping like a brick. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have guessed the entire class was staring at you. The entire student body of Hogwarts knew how you felt about your new Transfiguration project partner, Theodore Nott. The bastard…

You glanced back at up—arms crossed and lips poured—just to find the boy still staring you down, evil smirk painted on his lips. He gave you a sardonic wave, wiggling his fingers tauntingly.

“Fuck,” you sighed, pressed an exasperated fist to your forehead.

Your knee anxiously bobbed beneath the desk, the heel of your uniform shoe beating against the floor in a flurried rhythm.

Luna Lovegood, your best friend, was sitting directly next to you. Intuitive as she always was, you knew she could feel the pure panic radiating off of you. Her hand rested on your shoulder in a small motion of comfort, but nothing could calm you now. You were utterly screwed.

McGonagall finished off the rest of her speech on the instructions for her project, then dismissed the whole class. Luna helped you to gather your things together as you struggled to force yourself to move.

Maybe you’d pissed McGonagall off? Merlin, what had you done to deserve this? You asked yourself the same question over and over again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you glimpsed Theodore flouncing over to you with an unnerving glint in your eyes.

“Well, aren’t I just the luckiest man on earth?” he said snidely.

“Fuck off, Theo,” you growled, intentionally not making eye contact with him.

You made to pick up your books and slide them into your bag, when he slammed his hand down on the cover of one of them, pressing them down against the desk. He pinned your fingers beneath them against the wood—just enough to keep them sturdy, but light enough so that it didn’t hurt you.

“Stop!” You yanked your fingers out from beneath the books, the heavy leather smacking against the table with a thud. Now, you made eye contact with him.

“What are we going to do our project on, baby?” he asked.

“Don’t call me that!” You yanked your books out from underneath his strong hold and shoved them quickly into your bag. “We can discuss it in the library after class.”

“I’m looking forward to it—I’ll be sure we get a quiet corner, you know…,” he stepped closer to you, “…so I can explore every inch of…the subject.”

You sneered in disgust and pulled away from him, his voice still rattling in your ears.

“You’re disgusting,” you scoffed. “I’ll see you later for nothing more than our assignment.”

“Looking forward to it…can’t wait to put those big brains to use. Lovegood.” He nodded politely to Luna before heading off.

You glanced at Luna and acknowledged her slight smile. Everything in you was telling you to snap at her and tell her not to encourage any of the delinquent boy’s behavior, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever be very mad at Luna Lovegood. At least, not for long.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and took off toward the door, bag swinging between your shoulder blades.

“Wait up, friend!” Luna shouted lightly, running to catch up with you. You snorted and laughed at her, letting her sunlight hair fall into step beside you.

- - -

By the time your class of the day dismissed and the sun had begun to sink beneath the Hogwarts skyline, you were soaked through with nerves. The saturation of your anxiety had managed to breach every protective barrier you held up, and fill your hands with shudders and your stomach with nausea.

The root of your nerves when it came to Theo came from the consistent comments he insisted on making toward you. It seemed that he loved nothing more than dropping sexual hints into your ear every few days just to watch you squirm. He’d only started this after he’d heard through the grapevine you had a bit of a thing for him.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, and that his words had absolutely no effect on you, but you couldn’t deny that he was just as annoying as he was charming.

It had gotten to a point when he made these comments, that he loved to joke aloud about your reactions to him, effectively embarrassing you in front of all of your peers. That was your final straw. All resemblance of an attraction toward Theo had melted away and been replaced by hatred.

And yet, as your feet led you to the grand library, you couldn’t stop the rapid pattering of your heart beat. Something about the boy had always been so…irresistible to you. Whether it was the way he always knew where to place his hands when he “accidentally” brushed you, or how he knew exactly what to say when he pressed his lips against the shell of your ear. You figured you should be grossed out and tell him to get away from you, but, unfortunately, you kind of liked it when he did those things.

As you came up to one of the several library doors lining the wall before you, you decided to try and swallow your nerves and focus only on the project. That was what you were supposed to do anyway—this wasn’t a date.

You pulled one of the doors open and slipped into the warmly-lit room. It always seemed to be just a tad bit cozier here than anywhere else in the castle—whether that was from the multiple fireplaces or the sweet aroma that floated through the air. Either way, you loved it.

Your neck craned as you glanced about, trying to glimpse the cocky boy, but to no avail. Wherever he was, he surely wasn’t interested in making it easy on you to find him.

A sigh left you as you started toward the back of the library where a couple tables rested behind a few conveniently placed bookcases. Unfortunately, the feeling in your stomach told you that he surely would be sitting at one of those tables, simply because you knew how his dirty, little mind worked.

That corner of the library was…infamous for its concealed nature. Everyone in Hogwarts had heard the little rumors that fluttered about, of couples getting a bit too friendly with each other while the librarian was downstairs.

Because of those rumors, it had garnered a reputation. And if someone who had a penchant for gossip slipped past you and Theodore Nott studying back there, you’d be screwed.

Once you passed the last book case, zigzagging between the three that formed the perfect labyrinth, you came upon Theo comfortably waiting at the table in the middle. A groan of defeat left you and your head dipped back. You stared at the ceiling for a few moments while contemplating your options—you could still run away.

“Hello, beautiful,” Theo said, leaning his chin down on his propped up fists. “I’ve been waiting so impatiently for you.”

“Whatever,” you sighed. You crossed over to the table and sat across from him—the farthest away you could get. Your bag collapsed to the ground and unzipped itself on the way down. The things you needed for this assignment floated out and landed neatly on the table before you, including a few rolls of parchment, a quill and ink, and your books.

He marveled silently, seemingly trying to hide his fascination at your wandless magic. Perhaps if he studied as hard as you did, he would also be able to achieve it.

“Alright, shall we do this?” you asked, maintaining a bored expression.

“I’d love to,” he smirked. “But I’d love to showcase a bit of my magic as well, if that’s alright with you?”

“What—?” Your voice was cut off with a slight gasp as all four legs of your chair lifted off of the ground. Your fingers wrapped around the sides of your seat to keep you from slipping off.

Theo’s eyes followed your chair as it floated over the table and all the way beside him. Once your shoulders were inches from his, your chair dropped a few centimeters to the ground. A small yelp came from you as you regained your balance and glared at him. Perhaps he was a better wizard than you thought.

“What the hell, Theo?” you demanded, immediately scooting your chair away from him, putting a good few inches between you.

“I just thought we’d be able to work better closer together,” he purred, his arm dropping against the table to cage you against him and the bookshelf a bit to your left. You eased away from him so you were closer to the shelves than you were to him. His eyes never dropped from yours. “Merlin, what is that smell? You smell absolutely divine—”

“Okay, let’s just get this done,” you interrupted him, pushing his approaching body back away from you.

“Mm, alright,” he smiled. “Have you decided on a topic you’re interested in presenting on?”

“Actually, I have.” You pulled your books across the table over to where the two of you were sitting, flipping everything to the appropriate page. There were a couple pages in your notebook where you’d jotted some ideas down earlier today, and you’d figured he’d want to see the different ideas, as it was his grade, as well. “So, I threw a couple of ideas together in my fourth period. We can see what you think of them…”

As you explained the details of all of your ideas, it became increasingly obvious that Theo was not at all interested in what you had to say about the project. Though you refused to look directly at him, the corner of your eyes granted more than enough knowledge.

Theo’s eyes were ravenous as they drew down your body, curving across the most private areas of your body with no shame. You could feel your cheeks burning, but hoped the warm tones from the candles around you would conceal that.

When he scooted a bit closer to you, you kept talking. And when he laid his arm across the back of your chair, you kept talking. And when his fingers began to toy with the ends of your hair, you kept talking. But when he took your quill gently from your fingers and set it down on the table, you finally stopped. You barely made eye contact with him, constantly glancing away and down to the table. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears.

His fingers pulled away from your hair and dropped to your shoulder. They squeezed the hard muscles a few times.

“God, you seem tense,” he spoke lowly, his voice barely above a whisper. His other hand reached up and matched the opposite’s position on your other shoulder.

When he placed a gentle amount of pressure, it expressed a small sigh from your lips. He was right. You were very tense—in general, but especially around him.

“Here, let me…,” he stood and appeared behind you rather quickly.

“Theo, I don’t think this is appropriate. I’d really just—” Your voice cut off as soon as he began to roll your taut muscles beneath his nimble fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, pleasurable jolts of pain shocking across your neck and down your back.

“That’s okay, baby,” he whispered, dangerously close to your ear. “Finish telling me about your idea. I’ll just loosen some things up back here. Fuck, you’re so tight.”

He pressed an especially hard drive against your skin. You bit back a moan at the sensation. You don’t think you’d ever had a better massage in your life.

You wanted to tell him to stop, but it felt so fucking good. And you really were sore around your neck and shoulders.

“Theo?” you tried again.

“Read.” His voice had a commanding tone to it. One hand released your shoulder briefly to grab your books and slide them closer to you, before returning to its position against your skin.

His hands worked their way up around your jaw, cupping it gently, so he could press his thumbs against the back of your neck. You audibly sighed this time without intending to. Embarrassed, you attempted to cover it up with a clear of your throat.

You began to explain the rest of your project plan, small shudders rippling through your voice every time he’d hit an especially sore spot.

By the time he finished and pulled his hands away from you, your body was mourning the loss of him but relishing in the relief it felt. It honestly hadn’t felt far off from a professional massage.

“How’s that?” He walked around to your side, still not sitting back down.

“Er, good,” you chuckled nervously, rubbing your hand along the back of your neck, trying to spread the relief around.

“Perfect,” he smiled, gently swiping his index finger beneath your chin. He sat back down beside you.

“So, what do you think?” you asked.

“About what?”

“The project idea…”

“Oh, yeah, I think it’s wonderful,” he said, shrugging a bit. “I think we can work with it.”

“Theo, did you even listen?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

“Of course, I did,” he chuckled. “It’s just not easy to focus when you have such a gorgeous partner.”

There went your cheeks getting insanely hot again. He thought you were gorgeous? There was no way. Someone must have put him up to this, right? Or he was fucking with you because he knew you had had a bit of a crush on him.

“I—er…” you stuttered hopelessly, pulling your eyes away from his.

He placed a hand on your knee. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your tights. The heartbeat in your ears picked up wildly.

“Don’t be nervous around me.”

“What?” you laughed suddenly. “I’m not nervous, I’m just—you’re just really…friendly? I don’t know. Why are you pretending to be so interested in me? Did someone put you up to it?”

“Why would someone have put me up to flirting with you?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Because they know I had a thing for you,” you blurted before thinking. “I mean—”

“Nope! Can’t take it back now, my love.” Theo chuckled, an evil smirk printing across his lips. “And, for the record, no one put me up to flirting with you. I just want to.”

His hand slid up to the top of your knee as he leaned a bit forward.

“Theo!” you hissed. “We’re in the library—you can’t do that.” Though you verbally protested his actions, you couldn’t deny the heat building in your stomach at his touch.

Despite the conviction you had for needing to decline him and all of his advances, you couldn’t seem to suppress the need you felt for him right now—a different kind. His eyes remained on yours and refused to look away.

The two of you were in the library, and had seemed to despise each other’s company only minutes earlier, but for some reason, you couldn’t force yourself to stop his rising hand.

Soon, his fingers were toying with the edge of your skirt and his lips were millimeters from your own. You could feel his gentle breath against your cheeks.

“Theo…,” you shuddered at his proximity. His thumb slid slowly down the side of your thigh, the contact eliciting chills along your legs.

“You’ve wanted me for months,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours. “Are you finally going to let me fuck you?”

You gasped slightly as the tip of his thumb just barely brushed your core through your panties.

“Say yes, or I’m not going to touch you anymore.”

As if on cue, his hands pulled back from you and his mouth seemed to hover a few inches away. The cold air hit the spot his hand had been occupying on your thigh and sent a row of shivers up your spine.

“I don’t understand. Is this a joke?” you shuddered.

He shook his head slowly. “Not a joke, I just want you. Say yes, baby.”

“Y—” before you were even able to get the singular syllable out, his lips were pressing against yours and devouring them like a predator.

His hand found its place against your thigh again, the other hand following suit on the other thigh. He pushed them up the expanse of your skin, inching your skirts up in the process.

You moaned against his lips in embarrassment at the sudden loss of dignity.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he sighed against your mouth. “Let me taste you.” He pressed his lips roughly back to yours.

You gasped for air and pulled away, noses brushing against the other. “Say please,” you managed to choke out.”

“What?”

“Say please,” you repeated. “What, did you think I was going to come here and just give you whatever you wanted?”

“Oh, that’s how you’re going to be?” he smirked. You stared back astutely, not yielding to any teasing he tried to give.

“Alright, baby,” he conceded. He pulled himself closer to you and worked his way up your neck and to your ear, pressing chaste kisses against your flesh. “Please let me taste this sweet cunt. ‘ve been dreaming about it for months.”

You shivered at his words before nodding. You weren’t in your right mind—you couldn’t be.

He slid out of his chair and dropped to his knees. His hands wrapped around your hips and yanked you to the edge of the seat. His fingers pushed your skirt up around your hips and angled you up toward his face, pulling your legs over each of his shoulders.

The cool air flushed against the hot wetness slathered across your thighs. But the shock of wintry air was canceled out quickly by Theo’s hot mouth placing against your clothed core.

Your head fell back against the chair as your hands flew to his honeyed curls.

He swirled his lips across you, gathering your lust on his tongue. Each time you let a little moan slip, he’d echo you with his own louder one. It wasn’t loud enough to be heard anywhere else in the library, but it was enough to vibrate against you and send your head spinning.

The second your thighs began to shake on either side of his sharp jaw, he pulled away from you, leaving you bare and wanting.

“Turn around,” he panted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Obstinately, you held your chin up and refused to obey him. You wanted to appear strong and resistant as payment for how much of a dick he’d been to you, but with your quivering lips and legs still spread wide for him, you figured you didn’t quite get the point across.

He suddenly grabbed your jaw in one hand, while undoing his belt buckle with the other. Anticipation boiled in your belly.

“Turn around,” he said before suddenly and mockingly tilting his head to the side. “Or do you not understand what’s good for you?”

When you said nothing, he pulled you out of the chair and bent you over the library table. You yelped as your chest collided with the table.

Once on your stomach, he flipped your skirt over against your back and ripped your panties and stockings down your legs until the soaked things were stuck around your ankles.

Then, without another warning, he was sliding into you and stretching you wide. You gasped aloud and gripped at the smooth table, begging to find purchase on anything.

He moaned slightly at the way you clenched around him. He pushed himself into you a little more with each slow thrust, the movement splitting you down the middle. His hands held you tightly in place by your hips, pinning you down against the table.

“Shit, you feel fucking perfect,” he moaned, fingers gripping into your flesh.

Every alarm bell was ringing in your head, telling you to separate and cover yourselves, because you were in public. But, for some reason, you found yourself loving the thrill of possibly being walked in on; of possibly being found with Theodore Nott buried deep inside of you, taking his pleasure from your body.

By the time he’d finally bottomed out inside of you, he was panting and willing himself not to come prematurely.

“I’ve never felt anything this tight,” he groaned.

You hadn’t been able to see the size of him before he started pushing into you, but you had to guess he was the biggest you’d ever felt. Just having his hips pressed to your ass felt like the tip of him was brushing your cervix.

“Ah, fuck, wait,” he said, panting heavily. He rubbed your back as he slowly pulled all the way out of you and stood you up. He turned you around to face him and laid your back against the table.

He brought your legs around him and you hooked them together behind his back. You watched him with deep admiration as his fingers stroked up and down your legs, preparing to explain what he wanted.

“I want to watch me fill you up,” he whispered, leaning down to press a slow kiss to your lips. It was sweet and thick with saliva but, despite everything else he’d so far, this set off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

His hands came away from your legs and wrapped around your waist. He watched addictively as his fingers wrapped entirely around your body, his large hands positively dwarfing your small frame. And you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes fill with an inky, black glint as he brought his hips to the underside of your thighs.

He placed his dick on your stomach, reveling in how far up your stomach it went. He moaned at the sight and pulled your right leg up and over his shoulder. He pressed a small kiss to the side of your calf.

“Theo,” you whined, still reeling from the loss of him inside of you. “Please, no more teasing.”

“Be patient, baby,” he whispered against your leg. “I want to remember this moment.”

“Theo,” you urged once more. But his hand came down hard against the outer side of your thigh. You yelped at the pain that radiated down the side of your leg.

“I said to be patient.” He soothed the pain gently with his fingers, still looking down at how big he looked compared to you.

One of the things he’d always had on you was height. No matter if the things he said were stupid and undermining, you couldn’t deny that his size was enough to have the high ground.

“Look, we don’t have all the time in the world,” you sighed, leaning up on your elbows to speak with him. “The librarian could walk in here at any—”

He pushed back into you, choking any other words in your throat. You gasped and fell back against the wooden table, the cold lacquer biting into your flesh.

“Fuck,” Theo all but whined. He pressed his fingers against your lower abdomen where his dick had created a perfect impression. Every time he pulled out then pushed back in, his sheer size forced the body wall up and simultaneously probed a spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling backward.

Without wasting another second, he picked up his pace while dropping his hands down to your still-tucked in uniform shirt. He ripped the material out from beneath the waistband of your skirt, and ripped the buttons apart.

The candles floating overhead illuminated the curves and dips of your stomach, highlighting The valley of your breasts.

Hips still pistoning into you, and left hand holding your waist still, his right hand reached forward again and ripped the clip of your bra apart. Luckily, you’d worn the front access one today.

At the force of the destruction, your breasts fell apart from one another, bouncing against your dampened chest.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Gonna mark this beautiful body. Gonna let everyone know you’re mine. My girl.”

His words sent shockwaves through your system. You tried to reach for him but you couldn’t reach. Your arms fell back down against the table, your lack of anything to hold on to leaving you completely at the mercy of the pace he decided to set.

“T-Theo,” you stuttered, your voice breaking beneath the weight of his abuse.

He leaned down, pushing himself all the way into you for a moment, and latched his lips around a mouthful of your left breast. He sucked roughly on the flesh, pulling the blood to the surface. You whined through the pain that mingled with the pleasure from him below.

Once he was satisfied with the bruise painted on you, he moved toward your neck, sucking and biting just as rough, hips never halting.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Tell me how it feels.” He nibbled on your earlobe.

You said nothing, your lips unable to form enough to make any words come out. Your fingers still gripped uselessly at the sides of the table. One leg was held uselessly over Theo’s shoulder while the other dangled limply over the edge of the table.

He leaned up. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

Still, you made no sound.

“Oh, you pathetic thing,” he whispered, lips pressing to your elevated leg once again. “Am I fucking you stupid? Is that what it is? Yeah, baby? Next time, I’ll shove this dick down your throat and see how quiet you are then, you dumb slut.”

Now, within the final moments before your finish, his thumb dropped to your clit and began to rub small circles into the nerves. Your mouth fell open and your back arched to the ceiling as his hips intensified. They forced your finish closer and closer until you were spilling all over him, coating your legs and his stomach.

At the clenching of your core, his release was barreling forward, as well. He came with a long groan and a slow walk down of the brutal pace he’d set with his hips. His spend mixed with yours dripped down your legs.

Finally, with him still inside of you, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours. He eyed you sweetly, caressing soothing lines across your temple with his thumb.

“My sweet girl, you did so well,” he whispered against your lips. “Has anyone else ever fucked you so well?” There was that cocky Theo again.

“Maybe like one other person,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

“Oh, yeah? Who?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your jaw again and forcing you to look directly at him.

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” you said. “I think I forgot his name. I’ll probably just forget yours tomorrow, too.” You teased him meanly, smirk building on your lips. This was further payback for all the months of harassment you’d dealt with from him.

He pinched your cheeks together until your lips were pushed open.

“You can forget my name, sweetheart,” he whispered roughly, “but you’ll never forget what I just did to this body.”

His eyes watched yours with an intensity like no other. Then his lips pursed, and you watched as a line of spit dropped into your waiting mouth. It was the ultimate display of humiliation, but also ownership. You belonged to Theo, now.

And even if you forced yourself to forget his name or this day in the library, you’d never wipe the taste of his claim out of your mouth.

“Now, let’s get to work on that attitude, shall we?” Theo asked, voice suddenly chipper again.

He pulled out of you and zipped his pants back up, before selecting his bag off of the chair—which you’d now noticed he hadn’t even unpacked.

“Tomorrow at 6?” he asked.

Then he Disapparated, leaving you entirely exposed and alone.

That son of a bitch.

- - -

Tag List:

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[oasisofgalaxies]

Bbug

[just-aake]

Detecting Love

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.

Warnings: fluff, light angst

Words: 6169

You have the power to detect lies. 

Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 

Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.

People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.

And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 

Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.

Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.

There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.

There was no cheating.

There was no fighting.

It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.

That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.

It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.

These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.

Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.

You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 

It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 

And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 

You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.

At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.

With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.

Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 

Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.

She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.

“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.

She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.

She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”

Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.

The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.

“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”

Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 

“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.

Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.

However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 

A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.

There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.

Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.

“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”

You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.

Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 

Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.

Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.

Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.

Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.

A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.

“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.

Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 

You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.

Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.

Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 

“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.

At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.

Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.

“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”

Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.

“You’re lying.”

Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 

The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.

“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 

At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.

However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 

As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 

When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.

The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 

What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.

Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.

“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”

She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.

“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”

After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 

Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.

You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.

“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.

She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”

“How did you…?”

She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 

Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.

Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 

After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.

“I told you yesterday,” she replies.

You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.

“Remind me again.”

Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 

“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”

Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”

“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”

Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.

So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”

A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.

You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.

But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.

“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 

“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.

Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 

“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 

“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”

Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.

If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.

Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.

“Fine, what do you know?” 

Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 

Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.

As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.

“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.

“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.

Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”

“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.

Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 

The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.

“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 

The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 

If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.

After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.

“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”

Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 

“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”

“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.

“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”

From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.

However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 

Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”

Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.

“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 

You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”

“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”

“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”

Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.

You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight.��

For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.

After a moment, you break the silence this time.

“So, what’s the job?” 

Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.

“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”

“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 

“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”

At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.

“That’s confidential.”

You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.

“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”

Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.

“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”

“People like you?” 

“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”

You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.

“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”

A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.

Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.

Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.

“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”

At her words, you pause to consider your options. 

A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 

Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.

Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 

You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.

At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 

“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”

“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.

A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.

You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.

“Liar.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 

Still, the impact has you stumbling back.

“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”

A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 

You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.

Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 

At least you used to.

This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.

With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.

You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.

You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.

“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.

Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.

“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.

“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”

Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.

“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.

“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.

It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.

Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.

Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.

Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.

You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.

Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 

After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.

However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.

Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.

But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.

With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.

Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.

“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.

Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.

Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.

“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."

Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.

“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.

“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”

Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.

Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”

“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.

Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”

You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.

She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.

“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”

You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.

But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”

You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.

“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“What’s this?”

Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.

She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.

Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.

“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”

Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.

Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 

As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.

You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.

Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 

“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.

After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.

Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.

“No, of course not,” you tell her.

As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.

After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.

“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.

Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Of course, I will.”

Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.

After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.

A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.

A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.

To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 

“I’m in love with her…”

Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.

“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.

Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.

She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”

You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.

“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”

Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.

Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.

“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”

There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.

“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”

You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.

A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.

“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.

You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”

“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”

She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”

Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”

When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 

“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”

She swats your hand away.

“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”

A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.

“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.

“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.

Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.

“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.

Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.

“I’m in love with her.”

Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.

Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 

A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 

With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.

"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"

The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.

Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.

However, now comes the final question of the interview.

“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”

Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 

Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.

“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”

After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."

Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.

"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.

As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.

With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.

“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.

Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.

You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”

Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.

“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.

“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.

Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.

“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.

Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."

"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.

"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.

Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.

“Name?” you begin.

Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.

“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.

“Natalie,” you mock.

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.

Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.

“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.

“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.

“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”

This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."

As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.

By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.

"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.

Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.

“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.

After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.

“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.

“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.

“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.

Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.

Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.

“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.

You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.

“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.

“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.

Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.

Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.

Summoning your courage, you face her directly.

“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.

“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”

There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.

Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“No,” her voice responds to your question.

Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.

As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.

I’ll pick you up tonight. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 2

a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.

[vauxxy]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

[wolfhoundwitch]

Introduction to Shielding

If you haven’t already, check out my lessons on visualisation for the basic knowledge you’ll need to begin practicing shielding.

So what is shielding?

Shielding is a manipulation of energy, used to create a barrier between yourself and unwanted, usually negative or malicious energies. It’s a basic aspect of spellwork that everyone, beginner or experienced, should use to keep themselves safe.

What can I use shielding for?

Some beginner-level uses for shielding are drawing a circle, or casting a spell. A more experienced individual might use shielding in astral travel or spirit work, where there are a lot more malicious energies involved. Personally, I use shielding as often as possible, for instance when I do tarot readings, spells, spirit work, shadow work, and especially cursing. It gives that extra guarantee that you won't flood your personal space with unwanted energies.

Other uses include shielding against real-life dangers, to a certain degree. I often shield when I am walking through town at night for extra protection. But please remember to take other measures too! Call someone, pretend to be on the phone, plan your route, and even carry pepper spray if it's legal where you are.

An easy shielding method:

The easiest way to explain this is to think of your energy as a physical manifestation. Think how power attacks are shown in anime or cartoons - a streak of colour or light, or an element. Make it personable to you: fire signs (Leo/Aries/Sagittarius) might visualise fire, or a red energy or light etc.

Firstly, some people prefer to cleanse before shielding. I don't think its all that necessary but the choice is yours.

Begin by easing yourself into meditation. Get comfortable, and use whichever technique works for you. I have various methods for this in my visualisation lessons if you are struggling.

Attempt to visualise the energies surrounding you in your mind. It might be a swirling colour of light, almost like a cloud of dust. It could be flames, it could be water. Maybe try to see it held within your hand.

Now, attempt to shape this energy around your entire body. You might want to start with a bubble or a cube surrounding you. Feel this shape surrounding and protecting you. Visualise negative and unwanted energies being held back by it.

You can also layer shields, so if you are working with a particularly malicious energy you might want to have multiple shapes surrounding you, all within each other. You can also work with deities or spirits to ask them to shield you too.

Shielding Incantation

When I am shielding, I recite a spell as well as using visualisation techniques.

The shield of protection, I carry it strong, No ill wishes or trouble shall come along, You cannot harm me, or weaken my soul, My light is my weapon, and peace is my goal.

Try it out for yourself and let me know in the comments how it went! Thank you as always for reading. Please message for requests.

[lovelyney]

────𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐒────

IN WHICH: You accidentally whack Wriothesley in the nose during a training session and feel bad !!

PAIRINGS: Wriothesley x (GN!) Reader

SCENT: fluff but gets kind of nsfw towards the end ??

WARNINGS: uh wrio makes a comment implying masturbation towards the end? that and you guys just makeout, lol.

FLORIST’S NOTE: Reader is a mix between Wrio’s and Sigewinne’s assistant !! Also happy belated new years, blossoms !!

SONG: Bang! Bang! (K,NAAN & Adam Levine)

───────────2023 !! #©LOVELYNEY

WRIOTHESLEY LAUGHS as you drag him through the Fortress of Meropide, drawing the attention of those around you. Though typically, you’d feel uncomfortable, embarrassed, or perhaps self-conscious under the scrutinizing gaze of others, this time, it’s different. Your attention is focused solely on Wriothesley as he holds his free hand up to his bloodied nose. Knowing Wriothesley and his job here, it’s easy to imagine it resulting from a scuffle with a particularly stubborn criminal or something along those lines. However, the truth cannot be farther from that. In actuality, you’re the one responsible for this bloody nose. . . Allow me to expand on the situation a little.

Around a week or so ago, he unexpectedly marched into your office and insisted you learn how to fight. His motives for the sudden declaration were not out of a lack of appreciation for your work at the Fortress but rather a desire for your protection while he’s away. On another note, he believes you’re too “reserved and gentle” with others—“too much like a frightened kitten rather than a fearsome lion,” as he blatantly put it. It was a comparison you found somewhat degrading, yet you couldn’t deny it did speak the truth of your nature. In the end, you decided to comply with his wishes, and from there on out, he started to teach you self-defense and train you.

Cut to the present: Wriothesley pulled you aside for your daily training session. Everything was going swimmingly at first, with you defending yourself from his attacks as usual. Then, amid it all, you accidentally hit him square in the nose and rather hard at that. The punch was neither intentional nor malicious, but it still managed to send him stumbling back and clutching his nose in pain. A tsunami of guilt and worry flooded your system as you frantically apologized to him, but he simply brushed it off and smiled. The look in his eyes was one of mild shock but also of something more. . . fond. He seemed amused rather than angry or annoyed, appearing to be impressed and even a little smitten.

Sigewinne enters the infirmary with the medical supplies you requested, stopping just inside the door to ask you a question. She furrows her brow in concern, noticing the panic in your expression. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of him, Mx. (Y/N)? You’re a bit pale. . . Maybe you should sit and rest for a little while,” she offers kindly.

Wriothesley observes you with a lovesick expression as you prepare a cotton swab, your tongue poking out between your lips from concentration. His heart singes when you take his hand that’s pressed to his nose and lay it gently on his lap; your skin is warm and soft compared to his, scarred and calloused, from his duties here at the Fortress.

When you assure her with that enchanting smile of yours—the same one that drives him wild—it feels like his entire body has been set on fire, and he’s certain you can feel that fire when you press your palm to his cheek to keep him still. “D—Don’t worry, Sigewinne. I’ll be alright. Thank you, though.” You answer calmly, despite your hold on him being slightly shaky.

With a brief nod of her head, Sigewinne slips out of the room, leaving you and Wriothesley alone. As you press the cotton swab to his nose, he lets out a sharp hissing sound as the disinfectant works its magic. “Ouch! Shit, maybe I didn’t give you enough credit. That was a hell of a punch. . .” he chortles, trying to lighten up your mood a little. But his amusement falters when you pout, your face a heartbreakingly adorable sight.

“I—I really am sorry, Your Grace! I didn’t expect to hit you so hard. . . In—In fact, I thought you’d move out of the way before I even got the chance too,” you lament and carefully tilt his chin up, making sure you cleaned all the blood off. “How badly does it hurt? Do—Do you want me to go get some painkillers or ice? Please, just—”

“Breathe, (Y/N).” Wriothesley’s tone is soothing as he speaks, seeming intent on consoling you. “I’m perfectly fine, sweetheart. I’ve dealt with far worse scuffs than this. So, please, don’t think for a second I’m mad at you or anything of that nature. I’m more proud than anything, really.” He adds, melting under the warmth and care of your gaze. He finds himself feeling a little selfish in this moment, wishing you’d always spend so much time doting on him. You’re always so engrossed in your work, and as much as he admires that side of you, he’s also become increasingly smitten with you without you even batting an eye. Your self-absorbed disposition has made you oblivious to his adoring eyes, and he can’t help but feel a mix of heartbreak and longing as he considers how blind you are to his affections. “Hm. . . Now that we’re alone, there is something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while,” he admits, humming contentedly as your hand presses to his face once more, oblivious to the surge of adrenaline that shoots through his veins with every touch. Your affectionate actions result from your nurturing demeanor, but he begs silently for them to mean something more.

Your puzzled expression, bearing a resemblance to a confused puppy, only further softens the gentle smile on Wriothesley’s face. “Is that so? Is—is there a reason you’re only bringing it up now?” You inquire anxiously, teeth sinking into your lower lip. You hope that your unexpected punch wasn’t the last straw for him firing you or something like that. The worry in your voice and tension in your body language betray your deep concern, and Wriothesley finds himself smitten by your innocence and tenderness.

The duke pauses momentarily, seeming to mull something over in his mind. “It’s been harder to get you alone these days, with you always engrossed in your paperwork or helping Sigewinne. I can’t bring myself to tear you away when you’re always so faithful.” He acknowledges. His eyes linger over your lips for just a moment too long, his imagination taking over as he considers the softness of them and how they taste. His heart pounds against his ribcage as he holds back the urge to kiss those teeth away and murmur how he’s the only one allowed to ruin your lips.

You mutter the words, “My apologies, your Grace,” as you press the bandage to the bridge of his nose. Taking a step back, you freeze under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, you have my full, unrivaled attention as of r-right now...?” You try to sound confident, but your sheepish expression gives you away.

Wriothesley hums in response, amused and enticed by the sudden color that washes over your face. Clearing his throat, he slips one hand around your waist and pulls you flush against his warm frame. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment as he allows the intensity of the moment to sink in. “Oh? Do I now? Good,” he purrs, his voice deep and velvety as it echoes in your ears—sending vibrations throughout your core. You shudder when the smooth of his fingers glide over the exposed skin on your waist, and he almost finds it a little sadistic with how much he’s enjoying you squirm when he hasn’t even done anything.

Your breathing becomes a touch erratic as you feel the lingering touch of his hand against your waist. You attempt to mask your growing excitement, skin prickling with electricity. Despite your best efforts, there’s a faint quiver in your words that you can only hope he doesn’t notice. “G—Go on. . .”

Sadly, nothing gets past Wriothesley’s gaze, and he’s able to take note of your trembling voice and hands; he isn’t the duke for nothing, after all. He can’t help but feel the boost to his ego when he realizes he has a tight grip over you at this moment. With a swift tug, you’re suddenly pushed against his broad chest, eyes blown wide. He chuckles as you choke over your words, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip. “You know, (princess/prince). . . I can’t tell if you’re just dense or trying to prove something to yourself.” The raven-haired male teases. “I’ve been smitten with you for weeks now, you know,” he presses, eyes trained on your expression to read any changes. “I can’t help but wonder if you’re as aware as your actions suggest—or if you have been merely feigning ignorance. Please, explain yourself.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the magnitude of Wriothesley’s words settles in; he’s so direct and brazen with his declaration that it sucks all the breath out of your lungs. Your mind races as you grapple with the sudden realization that he is just as enamored with you as you are with him. Your expression must speak louder than words because as you open your lips to speak, Wriothesley closes the distance—slotting his mouth on yours.

It sends all your senses reeling like they’ve been drenched in ice water after burning for too long. Like a balm and a spark, it’s both a soothing salve and a blazing inferno, comforting and ravaging you in equal measure. All the tension of your attraction has suddenly become a physical manifestation, the culmination of all the unspoken words and feelings that have gone unsaid for too long.

Wriothesley pulls himself even closer to you, his passion only intensifying the longer the kiss carries on. The feeling of his body pressing against yours ignites a primal urge within you, driving the kisses to become more intense. His hands slide further down the bare flesh of your back, tracing your waist in a possessive claim to your body. His tongue dives underneath your bottom lip; it probes between them, trying to gain access to the interior of your mouth.

A noise akin to a muffled whimper escapes your throat as his tongue pushes into your mouth with a feverish, nearly desperate need. The intensity of the sensation is overwhelming, and you feel yourself shudder with a sense of raw desire as his hand slides down from your hip to your thigh, his fingers squeezing and digging into the soft flesh. His touch is both tender and possessive, sending your nerves reeling.

When his fingers climb closer up your thighs, you plant your hands on his face and gently push his head away, his mouth chasing after yours instantaneously. You sigh softly, your face flushed scarlet from the heat of the situation. “Wriothesley. . . We are still in your office. Anyone can walk in at any time.” You chuckle, swiping the saliva from his bottom lip.

His body hums with contentment at the breathless sound of his name coming from your lips. He lets out a displeased huff as he nestles his nose in the crook of your neck, sharply inhaling your scent and drowning himself in the warmth of your body. He absentmindedly starts nipping at your skin, “And? I’ve had enough nights getting off—”

“O—Okayokay! As an. . . apology for keeping you waiting, how about after work, we fulfill those fantasies of yours?” You chuckle nervously and thread your fingers through his hair, smiling when he leans his entire body onto you. “Don’t think I didn’t see the way some of the inmates looked at me when I dragged you in here. . . I don’t think I could recover if they walked in and found out they guessed right.”

Wriothesley’s laughter is like a deep, thunderous rumble that soon after swarms your stomach with butterflies. His kisses pepper your face in response, the sweet scent of your skin filling him with a sense of contentment. He pulls away and smiles down at you, the heat and adoration in his eyes impossible to miss. “After work, then,” he repeats and holds up his pinky, signaling you to do the same. Rolling your eyes, you indulge him and hook your pinky to his—a cutesy gesture veiled in a not-so-innocent promise. 

[maxarchive]

Fear, faith, friendship: Inside F1’s most precious relationship

[...]

When now-triple world champion Max Verstappen was first promoted to the Red Bull team mid-season in 2016, race engineer Gianpiero Lambiase was tasked with moulding an 18-year-old possessing both supreme talent and a frank demeanour with only a few days' notice.

"I had experience working with multiple drivers before Max, and that was one of the biggest helps in terms of hitting the ground running with him. I think if I would have been a newbie to my role - I won't quite say he would have eaten me alive, but I'm not sure he would have had that respect for a junior engineer."

Their relationship was an immediate success. Verstappen became the youngest race winner in F1 history, finishing first on his debut at the Spanish Grand Prix. But, generally, the first few years of Lambiase and Verstappen's partnership were spent chasing perennial frontrunners Mercedes.

"Max learned some really harsh lessons in the two or three years before 2021. His racecraft really was something that we focused on, making sure we were just picking up points when it wasn't possible to win a race. We were concentrating on building his consistency, needing to be finishing every race, maybe not putting himself in a situation where he can end up in a 50/50 accident with another driver."

[...]

Sometimes, though, tension between driver and race engineer can spill over in the most high-pressure moments.

Now in his ninth season working with Verstappen, having won the championship in each of the past three seasons, Lambiase's voice is a staple of every F1 broadcast and has become recognisable to fans all around the world.

The pair's success does not mean their communications are entirely straightforward.

"I think it is inevitable in any relationship that there are disagreements. The first port of call is acceptance of that. Secondly, you need to have faith in each other that it is for the greater good rather than there being any kind of malicious undertone. That is at the core of the relationship. As an engineer, I need to understand that ultimately Max is in the hot seat, not me. So while we are all working in a pressurised environment, the driver is at a level well beyond that. As an older citizen I would like to think I am mature enough to step back and let him vent when necessary, but to also make him understand why decisions are being made. If I was a yes man, I would have been gone long ago. We have just got that honesty in the relationship between us that we can be blunt and straight-talking when needed."

As well as coping with adrenaline themselves, race engineers must manage the pressure on their racers.

The 2021 campaign was arguably the most intense in F1's 74-year history. After an acrimonious year marked by heavy collisions between the pair on track and serial sparring between their respective team principals in the paddock, Verstappen and rival Lewis Hamilton's title fight came down to the wire at the season finale in Abu Dhabi.

"I wouldn't want to repeat 2021 in a hurry. It was incredibly competitive on and off the track [but] sometimes I think it went beyond the realms of sport. In terms of taking that pressure away from Max, I tried to stress with everybody here that we continued as normal. We treated every race as a single event rather than trying to look too far down the line at what could be."

[...]

In some cases though, the idea of starting afresh following the end of such a deep connection doesn't appeal any more.

"I honestly see Max as a younger brother. We can talk about anything and anyone at any time. We're at the point where we just felt completely relaxed and at ease with each other. Maybe I am speaking out of turn, but I don't think I would have any interest in working with another driver now. Having had the success that we have enjoyed together with Max, working with one of the greatest talents that the sport has ever seen, I don't think it would be fair on another driver, from their perspective or mine, to try and replicate what we have achieved with Max."

In Formula 1, as in all our lives, the magic of the most special relationships will always remain utterly unique.

[the-monkeies-girl]

Snow Kissed Skin. ( Ceasar x Human! Reader, POTA Oneshot. )

A prequel to Flame Kissed Skin. Part of the Touching their Fur for the first time series. Up next: Noa.

Title: Snow Kissed Skin. Fandom: ( Dawn of the ) Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Implied! Caesar x Human!Reader. Rating: T. ( Sexual implications but nothing too heavy here. ) Words: 5.7K+ Summary: You wanted to know what Ape Fur felt like and Caesar always seemed to be around during these times to cure your curiosity.

READ IT ON AO3.

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It truly felt like your fingers were going to pop off despite their proximity to the blazed bonfire. Cupped lightly with wool mittens that you had scavenged shortly after the Flu, one of your most prized possessions as they never lost each other in all their years, the swirling of the colors of purples and grays fuzed together with a fuzzy outline were captivating enough to keep your attention focused so you didn't move your feet and slide down the rocks face first.

Or back first depending if you were quick enough to catch yourself. That would… Not be fun to see, you imagined and cringed at the visual inside of your mind of your butt parading down and carving your backside with cold snow as you let out shrieking screams.

Peering over your left shoulder at the rested perch above the Colony’s communal area, there was nothing to see. You figured. With no official business to attend to on the snowy afternoon you found yourself dancing in, there was really no need for a council meeting. You doubted that Caesar… Would think it was very impressive to see you fall as you were careful to turn your head back forward at the lack of Apes for you to meet glances with.

Well… Shoulders rose and fell deeply. Really, only one you wanted to capture a glance with. Only one you had bigger intrigue in since he was the one to allow you to stay with the Colony when you were found, half beaten to death four months ago. 

Tugging the disappointment away from your chest that began to blister, you looked beyond the bonfire at the weather itself that seemed to bend around the flames, snowflakes melting before they ever got the chance to kiss the ground. You liked the snow, it was not common in the area as it often favored sleeted rain that made everything slick with abundant moisture and not icey capsules. The cold on the other hand?

You could take it or leave it, considering your small hut did not have a firepit of its own. To no fault of anyone in the Colony, your home was originally a storage hut that was repurposed for your stay with them due to your Humanness, wanting to stay on the ground and not be suspended in air in the nests that lined around the cliff face. 

Maybe you’d have to talk to someone about getting yourself a fire, that would require though the entire ceiling to be repurposed for the ashes and plume to escape and building was not something you were particularly great at either. Getting better! Since you started living with the Apes, but still… You were just a Human and never had the knack to do such a thing. It was surely a chance of fate that you managed to survive years after the Flu, never taking solace in other Human Camps and stayed out of the way as sickness that plagued the world ravaged empathy and heart and they so often turned on each other out of spite and amusement. 

Not here… The Apes--- The Colony were welcoming to you when Caesar decided to let you stay and for that, for the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged somewhere. Well… Most of them were, save for a Bonobo and a few of his Chimp pals that catered to his words of hatred.

That--- Was something that left you with a metallic taste in your mouth but their King was assuring and let you know that Koba would never do anything malicious towards you and would personally see to a punishment if that were the case.  Biting your bottom lip, you nibbled at it tentatively and attempted to keep your mind occupied until you got cold enough in the element to return to your hut and scavenge into your animal hides for the evening.

It was hard to not notice the lack of bustling today considering the Colony was usually so full of life with Chimpanzees, Bonobos, Orangutans and Gorillas shoulder to shoulder, eager to get things done for the improvement of their lives, but today? A well deserved break for all of them, your eyes fell shut and enjoyed the sensation of the heat against the thin skin, eyelashes tickling along your cheekbones.

Most of the Apes were bundled in their own homes with each other… How you wished to have that with someone. No one in particular, you tried to convince your train of thought from derailing towards Caesar once more and shuffled your shoulders a bit to cover the bits of your wrist that had popped out to the chilled air.

You probably looked crazy to them in your oversized jacket, layered atop a fleece sweater you managed to score a few years ago when the Winters started to turn for the worst, pink head cap that had to have been a child's but you managed to make it work against your flattened hair and a pair of sturdy cargo pants paired with your usual worn boots.

There were a few you spotted in your time standing in unwavering wait, never for Ape King in particular but… For something to do. Someone to talk to… It was a pack of two Chimps and three Bonobo’s who wanted to take a jab at what you would call ice fishing and you watched in amusement as they departed the front entrance of the Colony with their spears, their dark bodies becoming smaller and smaller until they disappeared in the white flurries between the trees.

They had fur, you knew that and gave a brisk smile to the fire in front of you as your gaze slotted open once more. Jealousy was not fitting to you but the idea of having a built in coat instead of having to layer seemed so nice… A luxury even but something tickled the back of your brain that you had no basis for.

Did… they get cold like you did? Wearing what you were, there was still a frigid aspect in your appendages, your blood felt like it was slowly taking its time running its course through your body and to the very tips of your fingers and toes. You’d never been allowed to touch an Ape before, you’d only admired the fur from afar when Caesar was near.

It seemed to thicken the last few months, but it was still evident in certain frames he put his broad body into that you were able to see the mild sheen of his skin underneath. So, not entirely covered, it beckoned you to answer it. Temptation yearned at your hands and trudged into your mind. Did… They get cold?

You caught hold of a bit of commotion from the direction of the horse paddock, not difficult in the silence that seemed to drain from the Heavens like the white snowfall. Recognizing the grunting as Luca’s, you slid your gawk curiously over and feasted upon the three bodies that you were able to admire. Such a Human tactic, prying into business that wasn’t yours but… Wasn’t that what Apes did?

They had very little semblance of personal space or even privacy; something you carried in your mind but it was hard not to take in some drama here and there when it was allowed. Rocket, Luca as you had figured and… Caesar. Hands were flying and capturing small flakes of snow between words, Rocket and Luca saying something to each other with flying hands before Caesar only nodded a slight departure. 

Nothing to be learned from that, you creased your eyebrows in and watched as the intimidating gait of the King himself came into a clearer view from the corner of your eye as you were adamant to ensure that he had not known you were looking for him, let alone staring. Caesar knew; it was something innate in the back of his mind when there was a set of eyes on him that were not meant to be at the time and more often than not lately, it was your glance that he would meet in the middle of a crowd. In the middle of his own people, there was a shift in Caesar only recently that tugged in the lower aspects of his desire to find companionship.

Human or Ape. You were interesting none-the-less and it was obvious in how he was looking at you upon his adamant approach. What… You were doing out in the weather, he had no idea. There was amusement scratching inside of his mind that you were waiting for him but that was not plausible as he saw the flushing of your cheeks, scorned red from the heat of the fire. You were warming yourself up and that was more of an obtainable answer to the Ape King.

Catching your breath in your throat at his stance as he came beside you, it was hard not to see the splaying of his toes against the slicken nature of the stone below, leaving heady imprints of his larged feet in the virgin snow. It was admirable as you were sure that if you moved with such a confident swagger, you’d be tumbling straight down the Colony’s slope and rear through the front gates on your back. 

“I-...” You huffed, watching the air escape your lungs as evident in the air in a white thrust of dust in front of your face. Swallowing hard, you shut your mouth and attempted to lubricate your dried throat and laughed slightly at your sudden onset of nerves. Caesar stared at you from his peripheral, mind cogging in on itself out of a desire to know what was going on inside of your own. Humans… They were expressive, the Ape thinks to himself but you?

You had this knack of covering up adverse emotions around him and it was frustrating. Fear? There was no way to tell. Intimidation? No way to deduce. Amusement? Maybe, he was able to smell your scent, vivid and natural as it was in his flared nostrils as he sneezed a snowflake away from being carded into his nose. Caesar drew a deep breath in, feeling the heat of the chill against his diaphragm like a blister against the muscles as you finally spoke. 

“Never seen snow here before. My grandpa… Used to talk to me about it. I guess back in… The day it snowed. Sometime in the 1970’s there was a big ol’ blizzard and it left the Bay pretty covered.”

“Ape… Adapt.” Caesar’s statement was clear and concise as if it were rehearsed. “Fur… Gets thick… in the Winter Months.” “Must be nice,” You smiled shyly, bringing the bottom half of your face into the collar of your jacket and kissed at the hem for a moment. Caesar watched with carded interest, snow falling against your lips and with a heated smooch, it was gone into condensed water and slid down the curve. “It’s hard now to find winter clothes that work. Most of the stuff I have is really old and falling apart. This jacket,” Holding your hand up, you waved the excess fabric around where you tucked your hand in on the arm of your garment. “Was a good find. I’d freeze to death without it, especially at night. Even without the snow it gets really cold----” “You do not… Have a fire.” That was not a question, more of a blanketed statement as it finally dawned upon him the inconsideration of not accommodating that. Hard to remember, he was quick to rationalize that and buried the desire to apologize for his lack of thought. Humans were weak with the cold. They had no fur. You--- Had none, Caesar drew another deep breath in at the consistent bugging in his brain that buzzed an urge to feel your skin against his bare and heated hand. Then, he’d be able to keep you warm himself… 

You had no resources any more to help other than layers like what was being displaying for him today, despite the displeasure in the innate fact that Caesar was unable to see the drifting of your breathing under such thick fabrics and it seemed as if your scent itself that was so warm and inviting was mildly dimmed too and washed with moisture that clung in the air. “Will…Take care… of that for you.”

“Soon?” You replied teasingly and earned yourself a rather stern stare from Caesar who huffed once more, a few more snowflakes making their home against his flattened nose. Cartoonishly shaped, it was one aspect of his otherwise striking face, burled and strong with the casing of his thickened fur around his features that appeared more delicate. The skin seemed slightly discolored around the bridge as well as less wrinkled than the rest of his face and you wanted to brush your fingertips along it to see if that was truly the case. 

Nodding his assent, Caesar peered at the sweeping of the bonfire and was able to feel the heavy heat coming onto his bare skin beneath the layers of his darkened fur. There, he understood the premise of why you were standing so barren by yourself. No fire in your hut, no other way to keep warm than to stand by the biggest of the fires that the Colony had to offer. He could… Offer you his own. 

No other reason other than the roof overhead to stop the drift of snow catapulting against your body and you’d adequately be able to warm yourself then. You’d even be allowed to stay the evening until Caesar worked something out with River, Ash and his own Son to fix the issue of your lacking blazed abode.

Would you… be accepting of that at all, if Caesar were to offer you to stay with him for only a night? Caesar hated to tear into the more Human nature of his thinking, it was years he went without speaking to one, without the pulling want to feel the reminiscent melancholy of his past and it was challenging to put himself into that mindset now.

Human Females were more sensitive and prone to embarrassment, you’d deny if he asked you to come stay with him and you’d most likely not even look him in the eye with your declining answer. 

Human Males would think nothing of the invitation. Will’s smile flashed in front of Caesar’s line of vision. Sitting atop in the attic, staring at the slated cold rain as it fell and his own young fingers playing with the condensation on his window that formed from the proximity of his hot body---.

“Do you ever get cold?” 

Caesar was torn out of thinking, his eyes focusing back in upon the rapture your voice brought him along with the fluttering beat of his heart against his rib cage due to the mixed exhilaration of opening the door of his past and the more animalistic tear that struck at the base of his neck at the prospect of taking you back to his nest and slotting his larger frame against yours. All in the sake of keeping you warm, he’d justify it as his teeth sank into your neck. All to keep you… Hot.

There was a small plume of chill evident in the air as you spoke, cascading against your line of vision as you looked at Caesar who appeared to be ice-caped now, your stare unable to tell what was his naturally graying fur versus snow caught between the small hairs of his fur coat. 

To see the fluffy nature of the flakes catering themselves against the very cusped outline of Caesar’s body was a masterpiece. His fur caught it… At least it appeared to before it leaked into his skin, somewhat water resistant in its own right and it was hard to pretend that the snow melting against his body heat wasn’t turning into small droplets of silver either to be casted to the ground below or to freeze against the tips of his nearly blackened coat.

Each of the white specks, individual and loved, seemed to highlight just how dark his coat truly was and how dense it appeared against the scape of his skin. Crunching below your weight rested an inch or two of white crisped and virginal snow that fell inwards with your steps as you allotted yourself to stand next to the imposing Ape King. 

Caesar looked at your mouth momentarily, liking the way that your breath was clear for him to see instead of having to rely on the rising and falling of your shoulders as was usually the case. Had you… He tilted his head only minutely, something that was not detectable to your eyes as you reached a fabric clad hand and wiped some flakes that were kissing your cheek away from minored annoyance against your already chilled skin. Had you truly never felt an… Ape’s fur before so you lacked the answer to that question? 

Surely, Caesar thought to himself and felt a deep rumble come from the bowels of his chest. Not bemusement in the slightest, but it cracked with ardent hilarity in the chortle that followed. From the look on his face, it appeared as if you asked a stupid question and you felt mildly scolded.

It… was a pretty stupid question to ask, obviously they got cold otherwise most of the Ape families would not be spending their afternoon in the homes in favor of braving the weather like you were so stupidly doing. His brow line rested endearingly against the stare of gold and green, the only color it seemed in the monochromatic backdrop that the snow eclipsed the Colony in with its silent fall. 

“Have you not felt… fur before?” “Sure,” You stammered, feeling heat rise between your legs to shatter along the vertebrae of your spine. It danced itself against the back of your skull, uncomfortable like you had bugs crawling in your hair under your winter cap. It was a question you had a ready answer to, expecting the blunted nature of the inquiry from a mile away. Caesar was like that; brash and willing to take what it took to get his point across, sometimes even to the point of acute and aggravated awkwardness on your part.

Maybe that’s what you found so attractive about him, your bottom lip drew itself between your teeth and you pensively nibbled at the flesh. Other than outward appearances that you found… Appealing…

  “I have plenty of animal pelts I was given when I first---” “Ape Fur.” Caesar corrected himself quickly, hoping it didn't come across as too aggressively forward, “Have not… Felt… Ape?” “O-Oh…” Nodding, you laughed awkwardly into the collar of your jacket and shook your head minutely, something the Ape King noticed as he himself nodded in understanding to your silent answer. “Uh… I’ve ne-never really been close to one before.” Your voice was cracking around the edges and you prayed to whatever God there was that it was not detectable from the shackling of the fire. 

“I mean, not that I wouldn’t like to be!” Were did that come from? W… Were you flirting? Your mind yelled and pulled in on itself as your cheeks deepened a shade not from the warmth of the fire, unable to look towards the Chimp who was so focused on the profile of your expression, trying to discern what you were rambling on about. “I didn't mean it like that--- I just…”

Groaning, you turned your attention back towards the fire rather than the broad body of the Ape beside you. “No. I’ve never… Felt… Your kind of fur before. Is it different than…” Racking your brain through the hides you had in your hut, you rested on one animal that you thought was a fair comparison, “Bear?”

“Not as… thick.” It was clear in the cadence of his words that Caesar paused to think of the correct adjective to use. It was always easier for him to sign his thoughts, speaking was only second nature with you. “O-Oh…” There it was again, that amusing plume of white around your face with your exaltation, Caesar watching with bated amusement as it faded closer to your forehead and you laughed slightly, shuffling your feet as you felt your toes becoming numb. This time… You were unsure if you’d be able to blame that solely on the cold or if the nerves had become too great to handle and the nerve endings in your body were flaring as an attempt to get out of the situation you found yourself in. “So you do get cold?” Caesar shifted his brow just slightly as he looked at you and posed the foreboding question that was always going to plague this conversation, “You would… like to feel?”

“No---”

“You may if you… Would like.” The overlaying of your lying denial with Caesar’s impressive acceptance of your curiosity tangled in your mind and replayed itself a few times. It left you feeling reeling as you processed and looked down at your feet, bringing your right foot forward and crunching down on the snow that resided there and scarred it with a half imprint of your boot. “I-I don’t want to feel like… You’re only doing this because---” “You should… Know if you are to live as one of us.” 

Your eyebrows creased at that, wild implications running rampant in the words that Caesar chose to use. You had never been one to doubt your position in the Colony, you were just a Human. Sometimes, it felt like you were a pet of sorts when you did something so strikingly Human and it garnered stares. Never once had the idea of becoming one of them by proxy cross your racing mind as you looked towards Caesar and finally captivated him in a dance with your full expression. With the ambient orange glow of the fire against the backdrop of the slaten white, you appeared confused at first until the Ape was properly able to see the creasing of your eyebrows and the slight drawing of your mouth upwards. There was no attempt to stop the frozen hackles lined against Caesar’s broad shoulders from rising out of anticipation as you pulled your hands out from the enclosure they were in, tugging at the mitten of your right that were condensing heat against the digits. Caesar admired the way your small fingers came into view, splaying themselves against the hardened cold breeze, sweat that was playing at his nose from between them all too enticing as you shoved the mitten into the crevice of your jacket pocket. 

Once again as you did out of nervousness, you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and bit down hard, the pink skin turning momentarily the same hue as the crisped snow and Caesar held a hand out for your stability as you shuffled towards him to close the gap of less than a meter that was placed between you. Staring at the motion, you likened to the flakes that fell against his hot skin and melted upon impact. 

The pure white against the darkened flesh that had seen its share of demise and loss, the pull that his thick fingers had on you as you reached your hand out, accepting the help so you did not slip on the ice so you could readjust properly to touch him. All things, your mind needed to remind itself, were things done out of consideration of your nature. Not because of the attraction that flurried between Caesar’s eyes and your Lightly, the woolen nature of your left hand placed itself into the leathered drench of his palm and you peered at your feet as you twisted. There was irrational intimacy. There were no other Apes around and even with the blizzard of the flurries, would they actually be able to see anything as you released Caesar’s hand with a small smile of a ‘thank you’ and stared at his shoulder. So… You were just supposed to… Touch him? Apes… did not have the same attitude towards personal space, this was probably something as normal as breathing to them… Something as normal as sleeping… Gesturing your hand forward, it hesitated mid-air.

What if you touched him too familiarly? What if Caesar did not like the way you held him? Why would that matter!? The ration side of your brain dragged you back to your senses. There was nothing here other than an Ape wanting to expand your horizons to see them as not threats, but as a Family you had been accepted into without your explicit knowledge. Not that you had ever seen them as threats, your gaze softened as you broke the barrier of frost that was lining against his furred shoulder. 

Caesar resisted the temptation to release an exaltation and in return drew a headied breath inwards and let it linger in his lungs. He had not felt this… For so long, the running of another set of hands against his body out of disputed pleasure on both parties; disputed in his own way but not so much against yours as he was able to detect the change of your scent that was muffled. Amused… Arousal, juxtaposed and playing deliciously against each other.  

Not since Cornelia, Caesar resisted the urge to drop his eyes into a flattened state of vulnerability. Not since her passing, it never seemed appropriate to take in the minor delectation of what Caesar had been missing for nearly eight years now. It felt new. The way your hand shattered the tiny ice particles and drudged into the deepest core of his thickened coat, still thinned you realized compared to a bear's hide, Caesar had not been wrong in that aspect at all. It was incredibly coarse towards the fur line against his skin, softening as it draped inches outwards.

It was a ridiculing texture, beckoning into the primal part of your mind that it was all for show and that Caesar felt the way he did in order to draw you in. And you were drinking it up like it was water, metal shavings to a magnetic force of great power.

How sickly marveled you must have looked to him as you stammered a foot forward to get more as if your hungry hand was not already devouring everything it had wanted for the last month when the attraction to the Ape King sprang into your consciousness. It was so nice; the way that the coarse hairs tickled at your skin, the wallop of tufted mane rose and fell as you put forth a sweeping motion back and forth to study. Not a pet in the slightest, Caesar’s green and golden eyes flickered to the action you placed forth and released the tension of air he had held in. 

This time, it was your gawk that got to admire the way that the air dissipated from his thinned mouth in a crest of iridescent white near his face. Nearer than you had thought as you were able to feel the hotness on your expression. Caesar was more enjoyable than the stagnant and cold bear pelt you had as you could feel the high temperature of his skin right under your finger pads. 

“It---” You tilted your head to the side in wonderment as you grasped a handful and let it sink between your fingers. If Caesar was pained at all by the sensation of your pull, he did not show it as he was still as could be, perhaps a bit softened in his expression as his eyes hooded at the delicacy it was to be… Touched so affectionately. Human… Touches were different, the Chimpanzee decided. They were different, the muscle bounced in reaction to being touched as you brought your hand back to play against the grain of which his fur naturally grew, you were different with your grazes and Caesar wanted more. 

“It’s not as thick, you’re right.” That was said half-heartedly, needing to verbalize something in the moment to tear yourself away from taking your other mitten off and absolutely ravaging against his entire body. You wanted nothing more.

“As… I told you.” Caesar’s voice only waved around the edges, not detectable to your ears but it was racking against his own eardrums. A moment of seeped weakness at being touched. “So you do get cold?” 

You asked once again, looking at the King with slight cross eyes due to the proximity of which you held yourself against his commandeering stance. You could feel the tiny vibrations of his fur as it rose on reflex as your fingertips finally made more adamant contact with the muscles that draped below. Instantaneous it felt, the reaction and you found it difficult to pull away from the notion that Caesar was allowing you this pleasure in the first place. 

He was strong, your eyes ample at the back of your hand. Stronger than… you had thought, the muscles he carried against his bones were dense and hard, but how strong was he? Would Caesar be able to pick you up like you were nothing? Would he be able to snap your neck if you so desired him to do so? Maybe if you were lucky, he’d do just that. Maybe if you were bold enough and tugged at the fur in your possession would Caesar snap and take you---

In your touch that began moving with more intentions rested all of these questions, your mouth parting as you exhaled harshly in time with Caesar as he blew out of his nostrils; his own desperate attempt to keep his own questions at bay. Would you be willing to touch him harder, more fervently? Would you want to touch the fur on other parts of his body?

Against his chest, he’d let you run your hands down against the abs that were fleece lined and only noticeable at certain angles. Your stares during those times that Caesar caught you staring confirmed you were at least interested in feeling, or so he figured and kept to himself. Your scent at those moments in time told Caesar you wanted more than you were getting, or maybe he was running away with the idea out of piqued loneliness. 

What was he meant to think? What was the Chimp meant to feel? That tugging in the bottom of his stomach that danced downwards to flare against his pelvic bone. So Human by design it was, the urge to consummate out of a winded impulsed fun instead of primal desire to mate out of necessity.  Would you revel in feeling the hardening of his muscles and maybe even more if you so chose?

“Yes.” 

Was the response that was as simply put as anything else, Caesar’s tone nothing more than a rambling baritone caressing the innermost parts of your ears as if he were speaking directly into the shell below that body part. There was no need to complicate the matter. There was no need for Caesar to cure your morbid curiosity. There was no bridge that needed to be made as you swallowed hard, feeling the stiffening of your esophagus with that.

There were no others around to concrete the gap between Humans and Apes and it was resting on you now, your arm pulling itself back into your body as you squeezed your fingers together out of unspoken cravings that finally came to fruition. “It-It keeps you warm enough  though, right?” Caesar rolled his shoulder. Not to be taken as offensive, he was unsure of how to process the sensation of your hand print drilling into his skin now that he had gotten a small taste of it. Never again unless you were Mated. This was only to show you. To demonstrate and to satisfy your questions. You would perhaps touch another, his stomach churned in on itself out of unfamiliar jealousy. Caesar had no coping mechanism for that in itself ugly entirety. With the acceptance of you as part of the Colony, you were free to choose whom you wished and there had to be acceptance of that. There was nothing here other than Caesar’s want to help you understand Apes. Caesar’s… thirst to help you understand himself…  

Adjacently dilated eyes met yours as you felt all the air leave your body at once and the warmth that Caesar’s fur had blessed your hand with left you feeling chilled from the intensity of his stare, “Most… of the time.”

“And when it doesn’t?” “Ape… Learn to deal.” Caesar’s voice was once again a low grumble from deep in his chest, your gaze falling to the scar that lined his right pectoral and as you shoved your hand back into the homely hug of your mitten, scorned forever knowing that you knew how he felt, you wanted more. You wanted… To touch him there, downward…

Down his thick waist and against the pelvic bone. Pressing there would be a delight, you wondered how Caesar would react. Down his proportionally shorter legs and then back upwards against the grain of his fur and torturous with your intended languid pace. You wanted it all, feeling emptiness against your palm as it kissed the wool mitten. “Harder… for Humans to adapt. Harder to… Deal.”

“Unless you let me borrow your fur, then I don’t think I’ll be much use during the Winter then.” 

You muttered shamelessly, unsure if your voice came out as confident as it sounded in your mind. Unsure if your words even made sense to the Ape who had very little concept of flirting, let alone subtle flirting. It was reckless you knew. It was fruitless, no doubt.

But there was a tiny lingering shock of electricity that even Caesar could not deny when you broke set standards you both abided by day in and day out by letting the inquiry of the unknown come to light. You were riding on that as you peered at him, watching the crease form between his brows as Caesar ran through your words a few times to understand the deeper meaning. 

Caesar huffed at last as it hit him with cognition, looking towards your neck and seeing the very base from under the collar of your jacket and sweater. It beat quickly for him. Hardened and paced to please as was the way it felt against his navel. It lingered painstakingly and unfamiliar for him,  “Will… Build your hut a fire first. Then… See if you truly need my fur above all else.”

[heartsatoru]

Taking what’s not yours

english wasn’t my first language so excuse any mistakes in the writing or smth 😭

WARNINGS!!! dead dove: do not eat. dub/ con dacryphilia, rough sex, hair pulling, virginity loss, deepthroating, dumbification. name calling, fem reader, p in v & other stuff that I forgot 💀

You stay at Yuji’s dorm for the night, but Sukuna decides to play with you before Yuji gained control of his body again.

You staying over at Yuji’s dorm for the night and cuddling with him was nothing out of the ordinary. Your body on his, face nuzzled in his neck, while his arm is wrapped around your back, caging you to him. The smell of him always comforted you as you dozed off into sleep. It’s no secret that both of you have a thing for each other. However, both of you chose to ignore that very obvious fact for whatever reason, even though friends, and even teachers (mostly gojo, teasing you) would ask you when you two would start dating. But you didn’t know how to respond because such a sweet, gentle boy having a crush on you was unbelievable to you. How did you get that lucky?

But Yuji thought he was the lucky one. He loved hanging out with you, going to the movie theaters and watching stupid movies nobody else would watch with him. Yeah, you also thought they sucked and teased him for it, but it was worth it just to see him smile. Going out with him always meant a day full of laughter because of all the stupid things he did and said, which you adored about him. Even missions were fun with him

Obviously, there was always the threat of the ancient curse harming you when he was let out during missions. Such a malicious curse inhabiting a sweet boy like Yuji never stood right with you. You kinda felt sorry for the boy.

But the weird thing was that whenever Sukuna swapped with Yuji to exorcise a curse on a higher grade than both you and Yuji combined, he never even attempted to hurt you.

Of course, there were the occasional threats of gouging your eyes out whenever you had the nerve of looking him in the eye, but besides that, he was almost.. gentle with you?

Yuji also always seemed to be having an internal battle with him too whenever you were around. His cheeks always flushed red as he furrowed his eyebrows while he argued with the curse. You kinda of did want to question him about it but maybe it was a sensitive topic, so you just shrugged it off. Whatever.

But right now, all you could focus on was cuddling with Yuji. You can feel the sense of happiness that always seems to be on him, giving you a sense of security. Your entire body was on his torso and thankfully, you weren’t too heavy for him. You wrapped your arms around his one arm, soon following your legs, slightly wrapped around his lower arm, resting his hand near your inner thigh. Your head was on his upper chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. A small smile crept up on your face, before finally dozing off to sleep. Safe and secure, in his arms…

Until something didn’t feel right.

Something in the air changed.

Something in Yuji changed.

The difference was enough to make you yolt out of your slumber, sweat droplets starting to form on your forehead and chest, before you notice Yuji’s hand coming up to your face.

A deep voice spoke, and you immediately recognized the terrifying voice.

Ryomen Sukuna.

“Scream and I’ll kill you.”

You could feel your heart drop to your stomach at those words. All you could do was pathetically whimper, as you nod your head slowly in compliance, tears forming in your eyes.

You knew you were much weaker than Sukuna. He could easily snap your neck in half at any given time, so fighting him wasn’t even an option.

“That’s my girl.. just be good for me and we’ll both get what we want. Though, i’m sure the brat will wake up in no time.” He responded, leaning near your ear as he held a sly grin on his face.

Then, you felt it.

You felt the hard outline of.. something pressing onto your lower back. Eyes widening in shock, you try to squirm your way out of his grasp as he places his hand over your warm, clothed cunt, relishing it’s heat.

“Fuck..” He groaned, slightly throwing his head back as you continue to squirm on his boner.

“Y’know you really aren’t h-helping your case, right? Such a dumb girl. I haven’t even ruined you yet.”

He sat up & sat you on his lap to have better control of the situation. He watched your futile attempts to escape in amusement, almost mocking you.

Looking down at every curve of your body, the curse started anticipating how it would be like just ruining you. How fun it’ll be squeezing your hips as he ruthlessly ruts into you. Leaving hickies scattered all over your body, claiming you as his.

“Mmmnh—no!! s’kuna—!!” You pleaded, being muffled by his hand over your mouth. You frantically scratch at his hands, despite the growing wetness on you heat.

He chuckles at your struggle. “You’re being awfully loud. Do you want other people to hear us?” He mocks, while he starts kneading your clothed cunt getting you as wet as possible to better able to slide into your virgin pussy easier.

“Nnn—mmmgh.. pleashhhmm..—-!” You cry out. You were a virgin. Was he actually planning on taking this any further? You couldn’t possibly have your first time be with.. him. Tears start to fall down your face & drool coats the hand muffling your cries.

A cocky grin appears on his face. “Don’t worry, you’re doing so good for me. Keep this up and I’ll please you real good, yeah?” He says, smirking against your neck.

Your hips start to thrust up to his touch, begging for him to touch your bare cunt. Your wetness was starting to seep through your panties, making you feel ashamed of yourself. But fuck, you were so horny that it started to ache. You wanted needed him so badly.

You place your hand over his hand that’s kneading your cunt, applying pressure to it shamefully trying to please your needy cunt, much to his surprise.

“Atta girl. Although, I didn’t expect you to be such a slut.” He mocks.

He tugs on your shorts before asking you flirtatiously, “You wanna get rid of these? Yeah? How’s that sound?”

“Nn..mmm..nnoo.. smtop..!” You whimper out, nodding your head no. You didn’t want him to see how badly your cunt needed him, despite you begging him to stop.

Completely disregarding you answer, he swiftly discarded your shorts and panties in one quick motion. You try closing your legs in shame & embarrassment, but to no avail. Sukuna forced your legs wide open, admiring the way your wetness glistens in the moonlight peaking through the window. The cool air on your wet cunt made you shiver, as you squeezed your eyes shut, throwing your head back at what’s to come.

“Dripping wet already? You need me so badly, don’t you?”

Muffled babbles came from your lips. Your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and your eyes followed Sukuna’s hand as it travelled lower and lower.. You watched as he roughly shoved a finger into your soaking cunt, feeling the way your walls seemed to suck him in. Lewd squelching sounds came from between your legs as your own wetness began covering your inner thighs. But that wasn’t enough. You began thrusting your hips up, craving more of his addicting touch. He pushed your hips down forcing you to stay still, leaving him in control of your pleasure. Hitched needy breaths frantically came out of your nose making you feel all flushed and hot.

His finger curled hitting all the right spots as he thrusted in and out of you, sending electric waves through your whole body. You wanted to deny this euphoric feeling but your walls kept clamping around him as he viciously hit your g-spot over and over again, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop. His other drool-soaked hand left your mouth, making your moans hard to keep quiet. Sukuna’s hand drifted off onto your cunt, rubbing your bud while his other hand continued thrusting into you rougher. He inserted a second finger, making a scissoring motion as he stretched you out.

Oh my god. His fingers felt heavenly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as you begged him to stop through broken sobs. What would Yuji think of this? Just imagining his reaction makes you feel awful about yourself. You weakly claw at his hands working at your cunt as an overwhelming feeling starts to build up at the core of your stomach.

“P—please!! ‘Kuna.. you c-can’t—h-hah.. Yuji.. he’s gonna..- Ah—!” Your sentence gets cut off at a new feeling on your cunt.

A mouth formed on his hand. Licking between your folds, thrusting in and out along with his fingers. It was all too much. Uncontrolled sobs leave your lips as tears of overstimulation trail down your face. You looked down at your cunt, watching all the chaos unfold.

Loud slurping noises filled the room, as your legs began to tremble. Juices fell out of your cunt and onto your ass, only to be licked up by Sukuna again. He wouldn’t dare waste a single drop of your essence. Not when he’s been craving you for this long. But this was too much for you. His mouth sucked on your small bud, making you arch your back in pleasure. He continued eating your pussy like a starved man, leaving you to grip the sheets trying to keep yourself steady. All of this pleasure was making you dizzy.

“Hmm? What was that you were saying?” He teased, admiring the tears trailing down your prettyface.

You couldn’t do anything but let out pathetic sobs and whimpers. You lean your head back again and he took that as an opportunity for his lips to litter dark hickies all over your neck. This combination of pleasure was completely foreign and overwhelming for you. You could even feel Sukuna’s clothed brick-hard cock on your ass. The tension in your stomach was building up, fast and strong.

Sukuna took notice of this, with how your walls seemed to clamp around him. He looked down, his head over your shoulder, watching your hips desperately bucking at his movements as his tongue vigorously lapped over your labia, then circling your clit. He started mercilessly thrusting harsher and deeper into you, making you roll your eyes so far back, you swear you’re seeing stars in your vision.

“Feelin’ good?” He groaned, looking up from your neck to see your pretty tears fall on your face.

With a loud cry—-a cord snapped inside of you. Your juices squirted all over his hands as you gasped for air. He watched you squirt on the sheets & on his hands until you’re finally done.

“You taste sweet, y’know that? Here, have a taste.” He says, removing his hands from your overstimulated cunt. The hand with a mouth on it cups your face, his tongue slipping between your lips. He was right, you did taste sweet. Your own taste mixed with his saliva flooded your mouth, as drool seeped down your chin. His mouth vigorously kissed you, and you struggled against him from a lack of air.

You swear you could feel his long tongue reach the back of your throat, before he finally ended the kiss with a string of saliva connecting you two. He left you cumming & gasping for air with just his hands alone. You couldn’t lie, that did turn you on. Your nipples hardened underneath your shirt as you came down from your high. But still, you wanted more.

You lean back against his chest, exhausted. For half a second.. everything felt oddly peaceful.

“Get on your knees between my legs.” He says abruptly.

“W-wha..?”

“You think me pleasuring you came without a cost? Tch. Please.” He rudely responds.

You quickly slid down between his legs despite your own legs being shaky. You met face to face with his hard, giant boner.

Holy shit. Just looking at the outline of his cock, you had no idea how that was gonna fit in your throat, let alone your mouth.

You put your hand over his bulge trying to fathom just how that thing was supposed to fit into you.

“Well?” He impatiently asked, snapping you out of your train of thought.

“Please me like your life depends on it. I don’t care if you’re unexperienced.”

You let out a shaky sigh, eyeing his massive size. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

Slowly lowering his pants, you could see the outline of his cock even better. The tip was oozing with precum, leaving a wet patch on his boxers. You pressed his tip with your thumb making his thighs clench under your arms in response as he hissed impatiently.

Hesitantly pulling down his boxers, his cock sprung out. Your eyes widened in disbelief. How was Yuji this big? Then you remembered. Yuji. This was his body. A wave of guilt hit you once more. Tears whelmed in your eyes again, as you began stroking his cock starting at the base. Licking his tip, you licked up all of his salty precum while swirling your tongue all around his tip. Drool seeps down to the base of his cock, lubricating his length for you. Your hands move down to pleasure and stroke his balls and base as your mouth worked its way down the entirety of him.

“Mmgh.. k..keep going. Just like that.” he groaned out in pleasure.

You start to gag around him. His length feels neverending. You can feel him start to reach the very back of your throat and you start to find it harder and harder to not gag.

But you couldn’t even deny the fact that you were getting wet once again. You put one of his legs between your legs, and start grinding your pussy on his thigh. Your clit dripped wetness onto him, but you didn’t even care. He could snap your neck and you’d still squirt all over him.

You started realizing how pathetic you were. You could easily cum off of his thigh alone. A virgin like you being this touch starved for the king of curses was almost comical.

Your moans around his dick sent vibrations all throughout his length, earning in some hearty grunts & curses of approval.

Finally, after what felt forever, you finally took in his whole length. You could hardly breathe. His thick, long cock made it practically impossible for you to get any air in your lungs. Nonetheless, you began to bob your head up and down, relishing the veins on his hard cock.

His breathing got heavy, as he tangled his fingers in your hair slightly pulling at your scalp. Your hands fondled his balls making sure to not leave a single part of his length unattended. Still grinding his thigh, your jaw began hurting from having to make room for such thick length.

He threw his head back, shutting his eyes as his adams apple bulged out. You look up at him for praise, before focusing back on pleasuring him like your life depended on it.

You could feel his cock pressing against the walls of the inside of your throat. That didn’t stop you though, that just meant you were taking in as much of him as possible. He could see the outline of his cock in your throat, turning him further on.

Your nose was all up in his pubes, as his smell filled up your nose. You could care less though. If anything, it just got you wetter.

You were licking & sucking him in all the right places, clearly by the way his cock was already twitching. But you were at your limit. You honestly felt like you were gonna pass from lack of air. He wouldn’t mind if you stopped to take one quick gulp of fresh air.. would he?

You slowed your rhythm before slowly lifting your head to take just one quick second to breathe.

A grunt of dissatisfaction left Sukuna’s lips. Gripping on tighter to the scalp of your hair, he pushed your head back down harshly onto his cock.

“Nggh—.. I’m not pleased. You seriously thought you could stop despite me not cumming yet? You’re too full of yourself, brat.”

He harshly yanked your hair up and down on his cock, thrusting his hips up into your mouth, facefucking you. Your drool coated your chin, his cock, & his thighs. The shock from his sudden action made you stop grinding on his thigh while he continued to make a mess out of you.

He forced your throat to make room for him, going deeper than you even thought was possible. Your jaw went limp as you hopelessly let him have his way with you.

His breaths started getting more frantic and erratic, signaling him being close.

Now this was too much. Sukuna’s pace only quickened as he reached closer and closer to his own release, completely disregarding your gags and whimpers. Your throat ached & you felt sore. You were honestly surprised there was no blood with how roughly he thrusted in and out of your throat. Your throat squeezed his cock dry, pushing him to release strings of white inside your throat before roughly removing himself from you.

Worn out, your head fell onto his upper thigh as you processed what just happened to you.

You could feel the cool wetness trickling down your throat, and into your chest. You started coughing up some of his cum, it being all to much for you to bare.

Sukuna looked down at you, displeased before using a hand to bring your face up & squeeze your cheeks together.

“Waste another drop and you’re dead.” He threatened.

You nod in obedience before swallowing every last drop of his salty, milky cum. Sukuna tilts your head up, swiping a finger over your chin and bottom lip, making you suck his finger & swallow all the excess cum that fell from your lips.

“Good. Doin’ so good for me, princess. Almost done with you.” He praised, while stroking your hair. Your cheeks flushed up at the sudden pet name, but you still felt.. wrong.

“Sukuna..” You hummed out, looking off to the side trying to avoid his gaze.

“Hm?”

“I can’t..-I can’t take anymore.. please bring back Yuji.. please!” You begged, with your tears falling onto his thigh.

“I don’t care what you do or don’t want. Do you even know how long I’ve been wanting you?” He snarled, wiping away your tears with his thumb before continuing, “Far too long. All because of that brat. You shouldn’t even be thinking about him right now, I’m all you need.”

In the blink of an eye, you were on your back with Sukuna over you while his hands ripped off your shirt, grabbing your waist. He ran his hands over the curve of your hips & waist, before settling back at your waist with a grin on his face. You flinched at his touch. His eyes scanned the curves of your breast, the tears still on your face with more welling up in your eyes, and just your beauty in general. He could hardly wait to ravage you.

You realized where this was going, and you knew damn well you weren’t prepared to enough to take in his whole length. Despite your concern, he spat on your cunt using his thumb to spread the wetness into your opening, lubing you up. He felt your cunt clench at this.

But Sukuna could see the fear you held with the way your lips quivered and your breathing became frantic, looking at him with doe eyes practically begging him to stop. “Might hurt a little, but you’ll be fine. Just lay there and look pretty for me, I’ll take care of you. How’s that sound, princess?” He reassured in a flirty tone.

“I.. uhm..” You didn’t trust him at all. The king of curses “taking care” of you? Please. Still, you reluctantly whimpered out a quiet “okay.”

Sukuna loved everything about the way you looked under him, especially how wet your cunt was for him. He was practically unraveling at the sight of it.

Sukuna’s hands travelled to your hips, grabbing them and slightly raising them off of the bed and aligning his tip with your entrance. You tried pulling your hips away, but he had a tight grip on your hips, holding you firm in your place.

You sucked in a breath, preparing yourself for the pain as he slammed into you, stretching your virgin cunt further than you thought was possible.

It stung like hell. You began scratching at his chest, begging him to pull out. Your cries fell on deaf ears, while he continued stretching out your pussy. You could barely form sentences because of how much you were sobbing and pleading.

He began thrusting into you, picking up a fast rhythm. Your moans of pain got louder and louder, filling the room with yelps and sobs. The man between your legs fed off of your cries and begs, losing himself in your cunt.

“N-noo—! Yuji!! Need h-him back!! Please, please!! H-hurts s’much!! I can’t—fuck!!”

“M-moaning another man’s name? Hah. How rude of you.” He grunted out, coldly ignoring your pleas.

You didn’t even care if you were being too loud anymore. You didn’t know how much longer it would take for the pain to turn into pleasure, but it was taking way too long. Despite how much you hated the pain, your pussy still clamped down around him, much to his approval. But fuck, you were still nervous as shit.

His tip kept repeatedly hitting your cervix, making a bulge on your stomach. Your tiny walls practically suffocated his girth, as he mercilessly kept getting rougher and rougher. He wasn’t kidding about “going to please you real good”.

Sukuna suddenly took hold of your hand, placing it on your lower abdomen saying, “You feel that? That’s me right there. I can’t believe his body is doing all of this to you. Adorable.”

Shit, he wasn’t kidding. His dick was bulging out of your stomach and you could feel him thrusting in and out of you. Your eyebrows furrowed every time he slammed into you repeatedly, over and over again, making the bulge disappear then reappear again. Sukuna was hypnotized by this sight, and you were whimpering right underneath him. This was new and scary for you.

Sukuna then grabbed both of your legs placing them on his shoulders, allowing him to go deeper inside of you at a new angle, finding your g-spot.

Your arms tried to reach him to scratch him, to get him away from you, but you couldn’t reach him and were left scratching at the air. A lewd expression came on your face, as your tits bounced at every thrust he made. Your moans grew louder and more frantic and slapping noises filled the room.

Sukuna groaned in ecstasy, as your body quivered from the quickly approaching orgasm you could feel in your abdomen. Every thrust he made, the pain was blending more into pleasure than pain, which made you bite your lip almost drawing blood.

“Mm-mmgh!! Yeah!! Right there ‘kuna!! Please don’t stop.. please please!! Feels so good.. so good! O-oh! I think im gonna— gonna cum.. H-hah..~” You cried out, looking up at him with a lust filled daze.

“Oh? Weren’t you begging for Yuji just now? What’s with the sudden change of heart?” He mused, feeling his release building up.

“N-no..! M’so sorry ‘kuna.. I wasn’t thinking! I o-only need you!! Only you can m-make me feel this good! Y-you were right..!” You moaned, as a sharp cry of pain left your lips with his nails digging into the flesh of your hips.

“That what I like to hear..” he snickered. Sukuna leaned down, while still violating your gummy walls, and placed a sloppy, deep kiss on your mouth. He hungrily devoured your lips while biting them in the process, making them bleed. Your mouth was filled with a metallic taste along with his spit, but you couldn’t get enough of it. His tongue continued to explore the cavern of your mouth, as you tried gasping for air. Your tiny hands gripped at his chest, and tried lightly pushing him away which only resulting in him deepening the kiss.

“Gonna…” He spoke into the kiss before ending it. “M’gonna breed you, pretty girl. Gonna fuck my children into you. Yeah? You want that? You wanna be my pretty little slut?”

He looked into your eyes, taking notice of how there clearly was not a single thought behind those eyes but him. Him and the way he so perfectly pounded into your pussy.

A fucked-out, droopy smile laid out on your lips before you responded “Mhmm… wanna be all yours.. please breed me!! Need you t-to cum in me please.. need your cum s’kuna.. so bad..” With that, you yourself reached your own climax. Your walls gushed around him, sucking him in as you squirted on his cock, drenching his thighs.

But still, he continued pounding into you throughout your orgasm. The continuous torture to your pussy quickly became overwhelming, as whimpers of pain and overstimulation came out of your throat. Your back arched, throwing your head back while you blabbered all sorts of nonsense. Drool seeped through your lips, and you were sure you looked insane.

“Ha-hah.. love..love you s’kuna.. love you s-so much! ‘M gonna be your slut forever a-and ever..” You blabbered on.

“Mmg—Hah, brat. No you don’t. You don’t even know what you’re saying. Got you stupid on my cock, huh?” He bullied, his voice laced with nothing but pure lust.

You eagerly nodded your head, barely even understanding what he said due to your fucked-out state, but you knew you wanted to please him with your response.

He intently observed your face as it twisted in pleasure and pain, and how pretty and sore your lips were as drool poured down the side of them. The bed creaked with every movement he made, ruining the sheets in the process.

Sukuna watched your squelching cunt pulling him back in, with a greedy look in his eyes. He kept craving more and more of you even as he got rougher, and it was driving him insane. Maybe you could be his forever fucktoy. Maybe then, he’d be fully satisfied. He then abruptly let go of your hips, grabbing your upper-back, pulling you close to him.

Your chest pushed up against his as Sukuna’s pace got even more animalistic. Your cum made a creamy ring around the base of his cock. His cock was practically splitting your frame in half while he savored how warm and soft your walls were,embracing him to you. His groans became breathless as he dug his face in the crevice of your neck, trying to suppress them.

You however, felt a familiar sensation building up in your tummy. The way his cock head was so perfectly petting your cervix was making you curl your toes in pleasure as well as building up a third orgasm. You didn’t know how you lived your whole life without being fucked so perfectly by Sukuna, but you didn’t wanna stop anytime soon. Your legs began quaking, as your sensitive cunt began twitching around his shaft signaling your release approaching.

“T-think.. think ‘m gnna cum.. o-oh..” You breathed out, voice shaky.

“A-again? Didn’t know I was making ya feel that good.” He groaned against your neck, planting a few scattered hickies on it.

With that, you both climaxed together. He filled your womb to the brim, milking his balls dry as he coated your red, soft walls white with his cum. There was so, so much cum that some of it fell out of you. You squirted on his cock, walls fluttering around him making a sticky mess on the both you. You felt swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you finished your orgasm, drenching everything underneath you. Your limbs went limp and he let you fall to the bed with a small thud beneath you.

He slowly pulled his cock out of your sore walls, as a soft sigh left your lips at the lost sensation before he took something rectangular out of his pocket and faced it towards your cum filled cunt. He spread your legs, watching his cum ooze out of your puffy lips, slick with your cum. You saw a flash getting your fucked-out expression in frame, and his seed in your cunt. But you were beyond exhausted and your half lidded eyes were threatening to shut, so you barely knew what was going on. Through your blurry vision, you saw his flushed face, along with his messy hair sticking in all directions smirking down at you.

“Good.. don’t worry about a thing, just go to sleep. I’ll take care of everything.” He commented, zipping up his pants as you began to lose consciousness, your chest still heaving.

“Left a surprise for the brat on his phone, too.” He chuckled, just imagining Yuji’s horrified reaction upon opening his phone in the morning.

Shit. You completely forgot about Yuji.

————————————————————————

can u tell I got lazy towards the end lmfao 😭 oml idk how to properly use commas too so sorry abt that 🙁 buttt apparently i have a really really high reading level so idk maybe im fine 🤷🏽‍♀️ I couldn’t tell if i wanted to type the fanfic in all lowercase or use proper lettering but oh well, too late now :33 ok bye ❤️❤️ wait I feel like i should reread this and add better wording and descriptions.. ehhh oh well what could possibly go wrong 🤷🏽‍♀️ ok bye fr this time ❤️ haven’t done my homework yet and it’s 10:01 pm.. fuck.

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter thirty-two — do your taxes (💋)

The funniest thing about apple orchards is that there's never just one type of apple orchard.

Why were they all unique? He would never care enough to find out. The main point is that he's got one now; and even with his extensive research on said orchards, he can't even find the proper way to take care of 100 per acre.

That's how he felt as his violet eyes examined the nature, almost with malicious eyes.

The orchard was in its bloom, a quilt of colors as green and gold under the sun had grown duller from the overcast day. It was ironic, really. He was convinced Sumeru never rained except for around the woods, and even then, there’s no thunderstorms. He thought picking a desert would make it so that people wouldn’t feel inclined to figure out where he lives, but at this rate, he was better off just selling the orchard part of the home to some guy who really likes fruit.

Scaramouche— or rather, Kunikuzushi...knew Furina did this on purpose. But jokes on her, really, he has much more discipline than she thinks.

It was taunting him, especially because he knew his lack of expertise and despite that, the trees still stood proud. The rows were endless, each one seemed to rustle softly under the unnatural clouds of the day.

Deciding to leave it, he opted to go back inside and waste away with the nagging feeling of that fucking orchard again. He stepped away as his steps crunched softly on the gravel path back to his front door. It was like the neglect was oddly making them stronger of a threat to him.

It was kind of offensive. How they just live on without him. But it was also what he'd hope would happen with everything anyway. Maybe he didn't know everything about orchards, and maybe he never would. But all he did know was that he wouldn't see himself enjoying the sickly smell of the fruit rotting soon. Was this going to be on his taxes? Doesn't matter, he's evading them this year, just like he does everything else.

'Horrible idea', he thought. Do your taxes.

Once he went back inside, the dim lights and the cool air of his home welcomed him again. But it wasn't a miserable type of welcome, for once. The air was what he wanted it to be, different from the overwhelming perfume of apples outside.

The longer he mulled on it, the worst his thoughts nagged at him. So instead of looking up someone to take care of his orchard, he yet again began to start reading one of the many books about garden and orchard care he bought at some abstract store in the city on his coffee table.

It took up hours of his time at once— taking notes, reading more, reading another book to confirm his suspicions. The words blurred together and he would force himself to consume the material again.

He was only actually taken out of the fixation once he heard a soft knock on his door many hours later. His head snapped up quickly, his bleary-looking eyes blinking multiple times to clear his haze. With a deep sigh, he closed the books, stretching his stiff muscles. He quickly rose from the chair once the knock sounded off yet again.

When he opened the door, his entire brain flatlined in an instant. You were standing there, a suitcase beside you and an unordinary looking cat nuzzling the leather. The sight of your presence, mainly very out of place in his domain. He had no idea what to say, so he didn't say anything at all. His lips parted smally, awkwardly looking everywhere except your eyes. "Hey."

"Hey," You remained straight face, the cat meowing softly, rubbing against your leg now. "I didn't know you knew how to farm." Your voice was as gentle as the knock.

"I don't." He responded, also just as straight face. "Your cat?"

"Housewarming gift."

There was no way that he could take care of a cat with how worried he is with the orchard. No matter how much the cat looked into his eyes and matched his expression, a very sentimental emotion he held for it in the moment. Still, very ironic for fate to do this to him. "Keep it."

A moment of silence came across the both of them, it was like the air that Kuni was talking about was now polluted with the same feelings he did about leaving. Which disappointed him, it was almost like he was never going to stop remembering things again.

Until you approached Kuni with a swift movement that turned into you encompassing him in a hug. The sudden hug caught him off guard, stiffening in initial reaction. It was something he didn't usually get too comfortable with in the first place, but something was different about this one. Something definitely more relieving.

"You could have just been honest from the start." You said, exhaustion finally meeting you halfway.

The more he stood there, enveloped in your warmth, the weight that was always on his shoulders loosened him. And time suspended itself momentarily, allowing him to feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat sound off with his. Except his could have very well been faster than yours in that moment.

He allowed himself to lean into you after a while, to bask in your presence, and to feel the comfort that he wish he had a long time ago. "I know." He whispered, a guilty solace in his voice.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

@keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi

@kyon-cherri @b4tm4nn @iiinaurate @quacking-simp @auroratumbles

@kookiibun @ulquiorraswife @amvpk01 @simplysm1le @h3xi2g0n3

@alatusorrow @scaranthropy @mellowberrie @magica-ren @vernith

@kabukipookie @bananasquash @suqarlaced @dellalyra @lightyagamifan

@yourfavoritefreakyhan @heartsforseo @yomishen @pwushizz @swivy123

@strxwberryfetish @ibyobi @ashfrommars4 @chemiru @ainnofinway

@agaygothicmushroom @levianamor @dragontammerz @wth121 @lylovw

@morgyyyyyyy @lovemari @suniika @littlesliceofcheese @yumejo89

@liuaneee @franaby @tiddieshakeshownu @mimi3lover @kavineyah

@kittywagun (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[chaoticbardlady99]

CW: descriptions of violence, angst (I think)

Astarion holds your face, your now ruby red eyes shedding tears as you stare back at him. He wishes this blasted gate wasn’t keeping you away from him.

You had disappeared suddenly while exploring the Sewers- all of you had split up to look for parts of Dribbles the Clown.

You, unfortunately, stumbled upon Cazador’s dungeon and he changed you.

Astarion wouldn’t have known you were down here if Violet hadn’t goaded him earlier that night- sneering at him when he said he would “ascend them all”.

“Oh really,” she smiled maliciously at him, “even though it means sacrificing that ‘Darling’ of yours?”

Astarion swallows the thick dread in his throat as he follows the freshly carved runes into your chin and neck. This was not what Astarion had meant when he wanted eternity with you. He assumed it would be with him changing you- it would have been a gentle start to your new life as a Vampire Spawn- it shouldn’t have happened like this.

The rest of the sacrifices weighed on the more moral part of him heavily, but you? Losing you would be all consuming.

“Star,” you whisper, “Star, please look at me.”

Astarion can barely get himself to look back into your eyes. You are still the most beautiful person he has ever seen, met, or even been allowed to be in the presence of. Gods, he loves you. Sometimes he looks at you and thinks maybe they did answer his prayers.

“I understand,” you say with a soft smile, “do what will make you happy.”

When the sentence clicks in his head- it stuns him. How could he ever be happy without you? How is that even a question?

But what other choices does he have? The only way he’ll be able to free you is if he releases all 7,000 vampire spawn- that sounds like a horrible idea for multiple reasons. He can’t see through his own tears.

“Darling-“

“I love you, Astarion,” you say through a choked smile, “I am eternally yours- in any plane- and I am so so so proud of you.”

“Astarion,” Shadowheart warns, “we need to go, there are more creatures showing up.”

You place a kiss on the palm of your hand before placing it back to his cheek- your tears are even stronger now, but you keep smiling at him. Reassuring him that it’s okay- you only want him to be happy.

The fight with Cazador barely registers to Astarion. The man started by saying terrible things to him, but not even that mattered anymore.

Astarion is so infuriated, enraged, numb that he tackles Cazador while the man won’t stop getting high off his own fumes.

Astarion stabs the man over and over and over again- his own screams getting lost in the chaos of the others killing the Undead Creatures surrounding them.

His unbeating heart feels like it’s been sliced into a million bits. Astarion’s entire world has been undone by this horrible, wretched, piece of shit man.

First, he took Astarion’s life.

Second, he took his autonomy.

Third, Cazador took you away from Astarion.

You- the first person in the entire world to show him kindness and support. You have saved him from himself and the world over and over again. You stayed even when he tricked you. You’ve been patient with him and you love him for him- not just his body- and Cazador took that away from him.

The first person he has ever fallen in love with.

Cazador is barely recognizable by the time Astarion allows him to go back to his coffin.

It’s the longest moment of Astarion’s life- he says everything he wants to say, he even tells Cazador he is ascending in his place. Astarion is so full of adrenaline and rage he isn’t even thinking.

“Ha! You are no better than me, boy,” Cazador goads, “you would sacrifice that stupid fool who supposedly loves you? The only reason they are even in there- even a lowly Spawn- is because they refused to tell me where you were.

“What a horrible way to die, but what a fitting ending for your only love, you pathetic runt.”

No it isn’t.

It’s not a fitting ending.

You deserve to live more of your life and- if he’s being honest with himself- Astarion never wants to live without you. He had to do that for 239 years and he’s not about to do that for an eternity more.

So he kills Cazador and then releases the spawn, but he’s quickly pushing past all 7,000 spawn and right to you- you barely made it to the threshold of your prison when he’s tackling you to the ground.

“I love you too,” Astarion whispers into the crook of your neck, “and I am eternally yours.”

[just-aake]

Thankful for You

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: You invite a mysterious red-haired stranger to join you for a Thanksgiving dinner. 

Warnings: light fluff, light angst

Words: 2547

Sitting alone on a bench in some park, Natasha looks up at the sky when the sound of thunder rumbles and echoes through the trees. 

Soon, she feels drops of water drip down her face as rain begins to pour all around her. She must have looked crazy to anybody who saw her, drenched from head to toe, just sitting alone in the park and staring stoically at the sky.

It didn’t matter though. There was no chance of anyone being around at this time anyway, given what day it was.

Thanksgiving Day 

A time when friends and family spend time with their loved ones and express gratitude for the good things in their lives. 

Natasha’s lips twitched slightly with a hint of amused resignation at the thought–the holiday defined everything that she didn’t have.

No friends – the mission in Budapest with Clint helped form a good teammate relationship, but even after other missions together, they have not reached the point where Natasha believes Clint has trusted her enough to be considered friends, and that sentiment is also returned by her.

No family – she was abandoned by her actual mother when she was a child, and as for her other temporary family, she has not tried to find any of them; though, she hoped Yelena was still alive and able to escape after Dreykov was killed.

No good thing in her life – she has been trained to be a killer her entire life, doing terrible things for others just to survive. She has always been a tool to be used. Now after recently joining Shield, she is still not sure if there will be any changes to her life that would ever be good.

There is nothing for her.

Natasha closes her eyes as she lets the rain hit her face, hoping that time will pass by quicker and end this dreadful day so that she can return to work and go on missions again. 

Suddenly, the consistent sound of rainfall is interrupted by a small splash in the distance, which Natasha already deduced as a single person’s footsteps.

With her eyes still closed, Natasha’s brow twitches slightly when she realizes that the steps are coming closer to her position. However, judging based on the unhurried pace and sensing no malicious intent from them, Natasha ultimately decides there is no threat with this newcomer.

They are probably just another individual on their way to some Thanksgiving party or dinner.

Natasha is about to return to her previous mindless thoughts when the footsteps suddenly stop.

In front of her

Natasha frowns when she no longer feels the cold touch of rain falling on her. Opening her eyes in confusion, the first thing she sees is the underside of an umbrella hovering above her head. 

Following the stem of the umbrella down to the hand holding it, her eyes eventually meet yours. 

Standing in front of her, you give her a small smile as you hold the umbrella above the two of you, shielding both of you from the rain.

Natasha glances down at your other hand, which holds a couple of bags of what looks like drinks and snacks.

When she returns her gaze to yours with a questioning look, your smile turns sheepish, unaffected by the intimidating glint Natasha has in her expression.

“This might be weird and a bit forward,” you start before nodding your head in a particular direction, “but would you like to come back to my apartment to dry off and wait out the rain there?” you offer her gently.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

In the hallway of your apartment building, Natasha stands with her arms folded, closely observing you as you fumble to find your keys. 

She is still unsure about why she accepted your offer. 

Maybe it was a curiosity to understand the kind of person you are—whether genuinely generous and kind or perhaps just naive and clueless. 

Or worse, you might just be offering help only to boost your own ego and feel superior; she’s met enough of those kinds of people during her brief time at Shield already.

Seeing you continue to struggle with the bags, umbrella, and keys in your hands, Natasha wordlessly extends her hand toward you in a silent offer. 

You pause at the gesture, your mouth opening slightly in surprise.

“Thanks,” you say softly, accepting her offer of help.

Natasha raises an eyebrow curiously when you only hand her some of the bags, not all, just enough relief for you to find the key and open the door of your apartment.

Walking into the apartment, you leave the door open almost as if it were an invitation to her, with no pressure to accept. 

She could just walk away and leave now, forgetting that she ever met you.

Again, Natasha doesn’t know why she decides to enter. 

However, maybe this time, it is partially due to the fact that she is still holding some of your bags from earlier.

Once she closes the door behind her, your voice calls her from the kitchen, and when she comes closer,  she sees that you are already in the process of sorting your items into their appropriate area. 

Glancing up at her approach, you ask her casually.

“So what’s your name?”

In response, Natasha presses her lips in a thin line, deciding on how much she should share with you, given her new 'clean slate.'

At her hesitance, you give her an amused smile.

“You know, it doesn’t have to be your real name. I just need something to call you instead of saying, ‘Have a seat, stranger’,” you tease lightly.

Understanding your point, Natasha contemplates for a second before settling on a safe option.

“Call me Nat.”

You repeat the name a couple of times softly under your breath before nodding your head satisfied and giving her a welcoming smile. 

“I’m Y/n.”

“Y/n…?” Natasha trails off in question for your last name, her instincts automatically activated to obtain as much information as possible.

You chuckle amusedly at her, going over to her to grab the bags from her hands. Turning around, you make your way back to your kitchen.  

“You never gave me yours,” you point out over your shoulder.

Natasha’s eyes widen slightly, impressed at your deflection. So, you are not completely naive. She decides to initiate another conversation to learn more.

“You know, it’s pretty reckless to invite a stranger into your home,” Natasha points out as she examines your living space. It was a small apartment but comfortable for one person to live in. She can spot your personal touches throughout the area, making it feel cozy and warm.

“It’s pretty reckless to follow a stranger to their home too,” you quip back at her. “What if I was a serial killer?”

Natasha huffs in disbelief, shaking her head and crossing her arms. 

“I don’t think so.”

You shrug casually as you take the remaining items out of the bag. 

“You’re right. I don’t think I even have the strength to take somebody down.” 

Finally finished with putting away your things, you lean back against your kitchen table, crossing your arms in a similar position as her.

“You, however, definitely look like you know how to fight,” you state plainly.

Natasha frowns skeptically at your wording, her defenses raising slightly in preparation.

Seeing her expression change defensively, you relax your posture and gesture to her body in explanation. 

“Your wet clothes are sticking to your skin, and I can see your muscles and abs from here.” 

Examining herself, Natasha can see what you mean. Her light clothes clinging to her skin reveal the contours of her toned body clearly.

Natasha returns her attention to you when you snap your fingers. 

“That reminds me. I need to get you some dry clothes. Wait here,” you tell her.

Before Natasha can respond, you leave through another door that she assumes is your bedroom. 

Natasha remains in her position, staring at where you left in confusion as she tries to figure you out. 

You’re not evil or dangerous–she is certain about that. You’re also not completely clueless and blindly trusting. 

And you are honest but careful. She recognizes the subtle hints of caution with your actions and words, but you don’t overtly show distrust towards her. 

You give off the impression of making an effort to maintain a welcoming atmosphere with her, but Natasha can sense that this isn’t a familiar territory for you.

It feels like a door attempting to close, yet a small invisible force is working to keep it open.

She is brought out of her thoughts when you return to the room and stand in front of her.

“Here you go,” you offer some clothes to her and then point to another door behind her. “Bathroom’s right there, and there should already be some towels that you can use to dry yourself off in there.”

You tilt your head curiously when she doesn’t move. 

“Thanks,” Natasha finally whispers before taking the clothes, her hand touching yours lightly. That brief touch left a lingering warmth in her hand as she headed to the bathroom. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Upon leaving the bathroom, Natasha is greeted by the beeping of the fire alarm and the sight of you standing on a chair, fervently waving a towel at the smoke alarm.

You don’t notice her presence when she quietly joins you in the kitchen, too focused on your task of silencing the annoying beeping sound. 

Standing on your tiptoes to reach the smoke alarm button, the chair beneath you wobbles as you shift your balance. After finally pressing the button, you exclaim softly in victory, but the chair wobbles again, causing you to lose your balance.

Instinctively, your hands reach out for the back of the chair or table to stop your descent, but to your surprise, instead of cold furniture, you feel a warm touch. 

Natasha gently holds your arms in a supportive grip, steadying you back on your feet. 

“Be careful,” she cautions lightly.

When you don’t respond and just stare at her in surprise, she raises a questioning brow at you.

Shaking your head lightly to snap out of your thoughts, you give her a small, appreciative smile.

“Thanks,” you tell her before turning to look at the pot on the stove and then back to her with a sheepish expression.

“I hope you like slightly burnt mac n cheese.”

The two of you sit across each other in silence as you both eat the dinner that you made.

Natasha eats slowly, glancing at you whenever you are not looking in observation. The food tasted normal, nothing special, but for some reason, every bite she took made her feel this warmth inside.

Eventually, you break the silence with a question to her.

“So, Nat, you had any Thanksgiving plans?”

“No.”

You nod your head in understanding. 

“Yeah, me too. I didn’t even plan on making anything tonight, but I thought maybe I could make you a small Thanksgiving meal. Luckily, I found some of these mac n cheese boxes in the cabinet. But if you are still hungry, there are also some chips and cookies that you can snack on.”

Natasha’s lips quirked up slightly, amused at your rambling.

Your eyes widen at the sight before pointing out happily.

“Oh! You smiled. I was hoping to cheer you up, even if just a little.”

Natasha furrows her brows curiously at your words, giving you a questioning look at what you meant.

“Why did you invite me here, Y/n?” Natasha asks.

You sit back against your chair at the question, already expecting it eventually. Playing with the bottle in your hand and spinning it on its edge in a random pattern for a moment, you finally let out a deep breath.

“To be honest, I saw you earlier today when I left. Then again, on my way home. You had the same sad expression during both times,” you admit softly before raising the bottle to your lips.

You shrug nonchalantly, saying, “I guess, something about the way you looked reminded me of myself.”

Natasha watches you take a sip as she tries to understand the meaning of your words.

Seeing her confused expression, your smile turns downward slightly as you explain.

“My parents passed away on Thanksgiving.”

You wave away her concerned gaze reassuringly.

“It happened long ago. There was a car accident on the way to a Thanksgiving gathering. I was upset at something stupid at the time like most teenagers do, so I didn’t go with them.”

You let out a regretful breath at the memory, a brief lingering sadness in your eyes before shaking your head and giving her a rueful smile.

“Typically, when this day comes around, I get too depressed to be around anyone, but when I saw you, I had a sudden thought.”

You lean forward, placing your hands on the table, and raise your eyebrows at her as you explain.

“On the day when people gather together to be happy and thankful, I thought why don’t the two sad souls also try coming together?” 

At Natasha's doubtful expression, you continue your explanation.

“Maybe there’s a chance we can cheer each other up, even temporarily, and if we can’t, then we can always just be sad together.”

Natasha stares at you with wide eyes, astonished at your words. You are even more intriguing than she thought.

You give her a small smile at her reaction, turning one of your hands upward in an open invitation to her.

“What do you think, Nat? Do you feel a little bit better or should I just bring out the entire case of beer for the remainder of tonight?”

Staring at your open palm offered to her, Natasha notices the same lack of pressure to accept as before. 

That’s when Natasha realizes something.

For the first time in a long while, in an unfamiliar apartment, wearing clothes that weren’t her own, and eating a slightly burnt meal prepared for her, Natasha was experiencing an unexpected sense of comfort and warmth, relieving her of the previous emotions that had weighed on her before. 

All thanks to you.

And as she expected, when Natasha places her hand atop yours, she feels your warmth spreading to her through your touch.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The next morning, as you enter the living room, you are not surprised to find the empty couch, with neatly folded blankets and your clothes on the cushions – no signs of yesterday's guest.

Turning around to prepare for the day, you notice a small note on your kitchen table and, upon reading it, you smile gently.

Sorry, I left without a goodbye. I had to leave early. I wanted to let you know, compared to my original plan for this holiday, I’m glad I spent it with you. Maybe next time we meet, I can make you a meal that isn't as burnt as thanks. From one sad soul to another. – Natasha Romanoff

You say her real name out loud softly with a small smile, grateful that you took the chance to meet the mysterious stranger. Anticipation builds as you look forward to the next opportunity to see her again.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thanks for reading! I am still working on Boundless Devotion. I just got a little busy lately. Hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving!

[wisteriainslumber]

baby twst headcanons

happy mothers day, have some disorganized tiny shenanigans feat. the twst women warnings: ch7 spoilers for draconia family members, siblings lying for fun (borderline malicious behaviour), foul language, and maybe a teensybitoftraumaoopsies

Riddle

if he could, he'd be an outside kid with tons of bug friends

secretly kept a caterpillar pet in a lil terrarium jar until it could fly on its own

he found it while it was raining outside and wanted to help it grow :(

my guy was a sickly victorian child

rarely would three months go by without riddle falling ill

he has dyslexia. without the pressure of having to get everything right on the first try, riddle can kinda enjoy reading now because he gets to learn new words and concepts at his own pace

deep in the corner of his room sits a journal with only half if it filled out. most of the entries start like 'i read a new book today' immediately followed by something like 'i do not understand life'

he actually can't bear to read the contents of the more recent diaries, but he equally can't bear to throw them away (not until he can send his younger self a letter that it will all be okay)

his only connection to other people his age were trey and che'nya

and on the occasions where trey was absent che'nya would 'teach riddle about the queendom of roses'

most of the time he fed him lies and riddle believed him

and most of the time riddle would yell at che'nya for being confusing and not clear enough

you can't just tell him that the hat man haunts him at night then reply with "what hat man?" when riddle asks for clarification

like !!! the hat man you just told him about !! (which gets him a reply of "who told you about?" damn you che'nya)

his favourite childhood memory was going out with them to get matching pins together

he still wears his little crown pin today!!

cats would frequently perch on his windowsill and riddle likes to watch them lounge in the sun and wonder what cats think about

(che'nya claims to know but riddle has never seen the beastman talk to a single cat)

but kitty-speak was riddle's first learned animal linguistic. he would practice by talking to the regular cat by the window

it stopped showing up for a while and then came back with four kittens and riddle smuggled them for a good... three anxiety-riddled hours before telling the cat their babies will be well taken care of with che'nya instead

riddle may had to give up those kittens that day but owning a pet cat will be in his future soon. #manifest

Trey

it was a massive game of follow the leader in the clover household

when mama clover was carrying flour over to the patisserie, you'll see the mini clovers carrying small bowls and utensils to help

easy bake oven user

but he was ass at it

legend says his unique magic manifested at age 10 when it was mommas birthday and he baked a really shitty cookie, so he prayed to the queen that his mum would think it tasted nice and it did :D

his siblings took a bite out of the rest of the batch and wretched very dramatically

had his hands full trying to convince che'nya to not eat the glass he found on the sidewalk because it 'looks crunchy'

in fact, whenever talking to adults, trey never refers to che'nya by his nickname but his entire full name. he just wants you to know!! also che'nya is a nickname for friends and family >:(

trey's room has always been free reign for his other siblings, they treat it like a common room

why? mostly because they don't have permission to do anything fun without supervision but big brother trey can to be their supervision :)) right :)))

the clover household is no longer shocked by che'nyas abrupt presence in their house. he seems to favour a certain corner of the house and most of the material on trey's bed

theres usually an extra set of utensils by their table in case che'nya appears. there used to be two extra sets but.. you know🫠

his siblings started a game of hiding as many rubber ducks in trey's room without him noticing

but after they permanently clogged the pipes of the toilet with their duckies, they switched to ugly stickers all over trey's bicycle

howEVER, it happens to be their bicycle now because trey outgrew it and had to get a new one. have fun cleaning the stickers :D

unofficial designated seats at the table and in the family car. real fights have broken out over the siblings because of these spots

still fears basketballs to this day because his brother threw one and trey happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and he woke up with the wrong accent. oh, and a concussion

Cater

all brands but barbie was ruined for caycay

his sisters used him as a mannequin to practice makeup

he had extremely elaborate revenge plans to pin them on the other sister but would get his ass whooped if he was caught

of course, that never stopped him from being extremely crafty to get out of trouble :)

referring to himself in third person cutely was a learned behaviour for survival™

it never worked in his household but it surely worked with other kids his age

collecting pity points but at what cost

had a girlfriend on club penguin for two months and got publicly dumped on club penguin

banned from club penguin because he wouldnt leave her alone and she reported him

sold off his sisters rainbow looms

those kids that are cognitively gifted such as he thought the people in the tv were trapped in there and then asked his mom if they were also in a tv and trapped

whenever dad worked in the office, cater would sit in the big boss chair and 'help', which meant that he was sorting coins and bills based off colour

he also told his dad to wash the money because it looked dirty on the corners

whenever he and his sisters played together, they'd tried to open the compartments of their toys and cater had so much fun with the screwdriver and taking stuff apart

also owned a joint notebook with his sisters. there would be things like poems, drawings, and the hair of ruined barbie dolls taped inside

cater has his own journal though, and he composes very emo poems in there. all written in glitter gel pen. cater would later look back on these and cringe but the more you read, the more you kinda get into it. it is a tad bit profound... for an eight year old, that is

Ace

demented ass doll player

his version of fun was making his dolls de-limb each other and throw them into a big pit to summon his darth vador figurine

whatever in-game ace is, that was his brother except he was significantly worse

my boy ace was the number 1 victim of big bro trappola

ate brown paint chips, which was 'chocolate' according to his brother

was locked inside the bathroom while his brother whispered bloody mary into the walls

sat through horror movies to prove he was a big boy and shit his pants when his brother recreated the jumpscares in the middle of the night

until he got a little older and started outsmarting him

now the trappola brothers team up to terrorize everyone else

its a competition for the brothers to compete over who can spoil the plot of which movie first

weaponized the slap bracelets

sucked milk out of plushies. no i will not elaborate

he's a jump rope champion! and it carries over to those skipper hoops as well

he does prefer the skipper hoops over the rope simply because there are um... ankle shattering consequences if you miss a jump, which meant it was perfect for sharing with the neighbourhood kids! gotta keep those stakes high, ya know?

tried to do a lot of magic tricks to impress papa trappola

made his brother take him to the amusement park and big bro got MAD tips because everyone thought ace was so cute, and quote unquote 'an angel'

like NO HES NOT???? if only big brother trappola knew ace picked up his charisma from him😭

Deuce

grew up with 80s movies, he thinks every that happens in those movies are true stories

he was always presented with old gadgets to 'fix' so its now something he can do pretty well; restoring old devices

the kids his age thought he was like wayyy too old fashioned, like born in the wrong generation

bike kid. if he wasnt inside he was on wheels

he kept a barbie doll in his bike basket and always made sure she wore her helmet (she was the bike guard)

slept with eggs and held them in his hands hoping to hatch a baby chick

thinks teachers live at the school

super sweet child. he's the first at the other kids' side if they got hurt

at the same time he is the biter kid. especially on fathers day

loves reading stories with grandma. whenever she came over, he would bring her a book

he'd also stick around the kitchen and try to see what she was doing. he thought that maybe he could learn to cook a few things by himself so they had more time together

in times like these he would be internally angry at his father because?? grandma is always working, mum is always working, fuck that guy specifically.

easter is his favourite holiday. his family have a tradition of egg painting and deuce used to hide caramel candies in them because grandma liked them

best helper kid around. will hold the dustpans and stuff while Dilah was sweeping

knew the names of all the trucks his mum drove and also a lot of the mechanical part names

had a habit of accidentally breaking things like clocks so he learned quickly how to fix them back up

his grandma takes him shopping for stamps so deuce can send mail to his house, addressed to his mum

Leona

parkour child

bounced all around the palace, climbing the trees outside and everything. gotta keep those claws sharp

before his father fell ill, the kingscholar family used to have lil picnics with Kifaji outside

without fail, leona would always find the highest seat or a nice sun rock to rest upon

unconsciously, even now, leona finds immense comfort in sun rocks

followed his brother around everywhere

when he couldn't catch up, Falena would give him piggy back rides while he was going about his day

asked him many questions bc hes curious about the world

would ask him difficult questions he already knew the answer to just to see Falena struggle lol

whenever tiny leona got tuckered out, his brother would carry him back to bed in lieu of the servants

leona insisted on sitting in the conference room with his dad to gain insight on how kingdom affairs were run

papa kingscholar agreed since it would be good exposure for them, and leona was the one who took notes, Falena would point out the participants at the table and quietly introduce them to leona

ruined the lives of people he played chess with. imagine being bested by a nine year old in chess. the shame.

after Falena got married, leona shifted his studies from maintaining amicable kingdom relationships to medicinal research and ancient curses

the palace staff thought it was out of malice, but leona wanted to focus more on the properties of magic now

(and also, well, based on the new target on his brother, his new sister-in-law, and his nephew, there can never be too many precautions..)

even when he was a tiny child he did whatever he fancied

his servants may have told him that tending to a servant's hair was below his stature but that only made him sneakier when making tiny braids in Kifaji's hair

git gud g

Ruggie

another crafty child

aye, when it depends on your survival, you learn to use those legs of yours to run like the wind

even worse he was a small ass child so he was hard to find

snuck into schools and pretended he could talk to ghosts and charged the kids a quarter to talk to a ghost for them

mental math god. from multiplication to geometry and time, ruggie knows the most efficient ways to get the job done, as well as a few backup plans

would sew up little felt dolls for his neighbourhood friends

left the house to do a bunch of odd jobs and picked up quite a few languages, which meant even more jobs all around, and now he has some pretty unique talents

like, he can preform acrobat tricks! and he can also paint a house upside down. oh, and he can travel quickly on one foot! (don't ask)

oh yeah, ruggie had a huge slime stand

he would make so much slime and sell it off and it made mad bucks but he also absolutely hated slime. what a good waste of detergent and glue, honestly... >:(

and people wanted them different colours and with charms and the like. at least it was a thriving market, but ruggie cannot stand the sight of slime ever since he retired from the slime scene

really liked rubiks cubes because it was like painting a little puzzle. also, when the children got bored of it, they would try to detach the squares and put them on the faces they desired

it was so funny to watch because they will use the oddest tools and tricks to dislodge the squares (like tying a shoelace around a square and trying to tug it off like you do with baby teeth)

ruggie also made lots of origami as seasonal decor :D his grandma really like the flowers and birds he would fashion

this IS canon but i want you to know that he would take the neighbourhood kids and rotate the group around houses in different costumes to get more halloween candy. everyone stan ruggie

Jack

he has younger siblings so his sense of justice was in his personality wayy back then

got to be an exemplar big bro for them💪

whenever they were playing castle, jack was always the princess because his sister wanted to be the heroic knight

if you asked jack, he would say that his sister only wanted to be the knight as an excuse to beat the shit out of his brother

wanted piercings but couldnt get them pierced so his sister gave him sticker earrings

they did not work nor stick very well but he loved him

let his siblings bite him, it seems to be their preferred mode of affection

sometimes they will wordlessly enter his room just to bite him and chill

often had playdates with vil when he was home

jack still doesn't quite know what the difference was between all these water brands vil was showing him but the spirit is there

oftentimes vil was alone in the house so the two played grown up and cooked by themselves

vil had told his dad that they were married because jack would come over and had sleepovers a lot

jack has a big green thumb. he wanted to plant a garden but he started with succulents first because they are notoriously hard to kill

by now he's ready to advance but every time he goes to get different plants, he comes back with more succulents haha

the plants under jack's care are happy enough to bloom flowers, and he gives them to his mama

if vil learned a spell, he would teach jack and vice versa. the BIGGEST supporters of each other. friendship is magic, guys

the first time they learned colour changing spells was an entire mess and vil was bawling in a panic by the end of it because they dyed Eric Venue's favourite couch bright blue and didn't know how to reverse it

jack wanted to call vil's dad to tell him but he ended up calling the wrong number and thought they were in trouble so he ended up bawling too

whenever vil wasn't in the class, no doubt jack is going to question his whereabouts

oddly, jack and neige have never interacted and only found out about vil being their mutual friend well into their teen years

Azul

like ruggie, was a master hider

unless he wants to be found, you will never find him

learned how to read earlier than kids his age because he wanted to prove he could spell big words to his mama

he may have cried a lot as a kid but do you know what that means? FREE black paint!! SUCK IT, PLEBS.

my boy was an astounding artiste, its why hes so creative with getting his way

azul is a visual learner, and always finished books a little slower because he REALLY analyzes all the pictures like downright dissects it

his grandma suggested art as a way to express himself while also making sense of the world around him

even though he thinks his old drawing of him and the twins is outdated in terms of his skill level now, he has a sentimental attachment to it and keeps it in his room always

trading trinkets was a common thing between the trio aka the twins would pop by

mama ashengrotto adored the twins bc they adored azul('s mom that is)

also inherited a beautiful singing voice from mama ashengrotto. he and his grandma would bond by playing the piano and singing. sometimes, they'd do a little show at his mom's restaurant

red hair was seen as very attractive in the coral sea and he very regrettably colour-magicked his hair

it was not the shade he wanted, but he was curious on what was, so with the many complex spells he learned at his age, he experimented with different lengths, colours, and styles until he restored it back to its original form

there remains one surviving picture of his red hair and it is kept in his stepdad's wallet (because its the only place azul wouldn't look!)

no azul is not aware pictures of his redhead era even exist

Jade

loved to weave necklaces and bracelets using shells and plants

gave a lot of necklaces made of sharks teeth to his family and azul because those are valued good luck charms!

it might also be because he loved to hunt sharks but he pretends thats not the reason :)

wandered off all the time and floyd always had to drag him back home before night

hes a curious boy, wanted to explore everything around him, especially the dangerous places

child leashes don't work in the sea but im sure mama and papa leech would have loved to have one anyway

was the main reason why he and his brother have separate rooms

too many petty "stop leaving your mess on my side (of the room)" and hissy fights had mama and papa leech mad

things definitely settled after they had separate rooms

sometimes if he got into trouble he would pretend he was floyd and sent his parents off to look for "jade"

highkey never worked but it never stopped him from trying

started a new method of using tears and his parents were more lenient with him after so he realized he can get away with things if he shed a few tears

he can cry on command and this is his primary weapon if scaring people off didnt work

will then pin it on the other party as if he didn't enable the fight

straight up told floyd lies growing up, that the pufferfish would crawl inside his ears when he sleeps, or that floyd was 'allergic' to seahorses, or that in order to get an angler mer to go away, floyd had to use bioluminescence

this carried over to land as well except jade didnt know whether his words were true or not he just straight up made things up

was also a very very sickly child. got ill extremely easily and is much more sensitive to temperature or water pressure changes

esp during pollen season? jade is gonna lose those lungs he just acquired from sneezing and coughing

Floyd

grade A hoarder

he sees something he likes? he's bringing it back home

unlike at NRC, the twins have separate rooms so the entire space is filled with a bunch of floyd's knickknacks (its why jade is always mad)

as soon as hes done playing with one he's found something else on his swims so his room is 80% things lying around

and when jade stole said knickknacks claiming it was his turn to play thats when floyd suddenly claimed that mermaid doll (that he highkey forgot existed) was his prized possession

back off jade thats his property😡

when he was younger, he loved looking and behaving exactly like jade, but as he got older he valued being his own person instead of an X2

is actually legitimately the older sibling by a few minutes and deliberately decides whether its his privilege or not whenever he can

but as soon as "because you're the oldest" is said he claims that none of them are older because they were born on the same day

to the outsider, it sounds like floyd is feeding jade a heap load of bs, but he likes gathering trivia and wording it so it *sounds* fake but really isnt

like that seahorses give birth via baby explosion

one exception to this rule is that floyd is constantly changing the story of how he met jade

one instance it was that they found each other, another was that some kid kept begging him for food and that later their mom said that was his sibling, other times, jade had allegedly died before floyd used his awesome magic to revive him

most of the time floyd tells jade that a whale shat him out and whatever came out of it looked so deformed and floyd thought jade was so soppy pathetic (in a cute way) so he brought him home

jade never tries to refute nor confirm any of these allegations but when the last story gets told he's always a little more passive aggressive with floyd that day

Kalim

sickly victorian child #2

its from all the poison attempts

and as a result he may or may not have tried mithraism so maybe its worse than we think😭

allergic as hell to bug bites too like someone please give them a electric racket

hide and seek is banned from the Asim household

at that point in his life, kalim had a good 6-7 siblings and letting them loose in a big household AND telling them to hide is a recipe for disaster

it was almost impossible for him to get in trouble too because no one was about to scold the heir of the house

workers of the Asim palace were absolutely not going to scold him and his parents had like fourteen other more rambunctious younger children

but don't be fooled, kalim is a very good seeker when it matters! he can spend hours focused on finding something important, so those hide and seek games were banned for a VERY good reason when kalim was out at night searching and didn't return the next morning (meaning he got childnapped)

oh, whats a little kidnapping but a minor setback? hes fine and in one piece, the doctor triple-checked! anyways, who's ready for another round of hide and seek??

every now and then, kalim falls victim to the good ole' midnight hour and kitchen scissors hair disaster. no, no one learns

the birds and random animals in the Asim park (that's right, his private park..) all have names and kalim visits them often to befriend them

he's learned around a total of eight languages and he will personally translate (with jamil as the scribe) his own books so he can teach his younger siblings

even remembers all their favourite hobbies, genres, activities, etc, etc

the Asim children all have one thing in common and that is their love for bubbles, but who doesn't?

kalim spends time in the nrc lab to create the perfect bubble solution with big, long lasting bubbles. trust.

remembers faces, names, and even birthdays very well. you can always bet on kalim to wish a servant or one of his tutors a happy birthday!

to kalim, having someone know your name and be happy to see you is very important! so he wants his loved ones, guests, and servants to feel appreciated, especially on their very special days :)

Jamil

has the immune system of god he has survived all of the flu seasons without catching it himself

he and kalim played in the bird houses often

taught the parrots a bunch of silly words and phrases

Najima taught one of the parrots to only refer to jamil as 'stinky'

he and Najima claim they look nothing alike even though kalim and everyone else insists its true

the two siblings fought over particular hairbands while sitting next to an entire selection of them💀

Najima loved to fight over things that jamil wanted first just for the victory

yeah, even in childhood jamil never got a break. as if the universe would give him that

we all heard the silly goofy story of jamil shuffling around under a vase thinking he was all sneaky and shit. he has many more stories like this

such as climbing in trees (he only got stuck twice!), wrapping himself in cloth and slithering on the ground (very conspicuous!!), again, draping himself in fabric and trying to blend in with the walls (with a 50% chance of success) etc, etc.

he is SO good at hiding and has so many secret spots around Asim palace, trust him.

Najima?? literally sent him a picture of curry for his birthday to celebrate. the two constantly send each other a bunch of pictures of random rocks, disfigured trash, and all sorts of unsavory things with the caption 'look its you'

while other servants were renovating Asim palace, they told the kids not to run around, because someone could crack their head if they fell off the ladder/the ladder fell on them

so, like the curious kids they were, jamil, Najima, kalim, and a few of his siblings camped around the construction zone waiting for someone's skull to break

its just morbid curiosity, they weren't wishing ill upon anyone

Vil

'don't carry me! i can walk by myself!' but in a way to convince his dad to pick him up

loved being carried around but would never admit to it

partook in many sweets as a kid even though he limits himself now

had a tradition with neige to make hot chocolate every thursday after school. in the warmer seasons, they switched to making their own fruit juice with the blender

from whole kiwis, to sweet potatoes, and ginger roots, it evolved to throwing random things in the machine to see what kind of funky juice would be made

our dear Eric Venue thinks this is so cute he has no problem with it as long as they dont waste food and clean up after. it would be a good habit to learn

plus vil looks so happy because he thinks operating a blender is such a grown up thing to do

1000% ate things he wasn't supposed to

the lipsmacker smelled so good though :(

when he failed a spelling bee and didnt want his papa to be disappointed in him the most logical thing in his seven year old mind was to eat the test

ripped it up and munch munched on the paper

and that had been his primary solution to bad grades until he was able to get in a good study technique (that, and his stomach rejecting the paper)

HORRENDOUS handwriting and it was because he tried to trick himself into being left-handed for a good portion of his life because the Beautiful Queen was left-handed >:(

also had trouble with enunciation from learning very big words. Eric can understand him but a bit of speech therapy and musical training helped

(if you're lucky, you'll still hear hints of it when vil's extremely sleepy)

often made friendship bracelets with, like, no one to give them to

traded a few with jack because vil taught him how to make them. jack thought that they would be a nice thing to give to the rest of his family, and made a few for vil in exchange

Rook

you think him crawling around on the dirt was a recent thing? hell no this was a learned childhood behaviour

he may not have had a bow back then but he had rocks and a will to play

and by will to play i mean he would pelt a lot of things with rocks

his old teachers had to placate him by teaching him how to skip stones on the lake for every one else's safety

only members of his own family were willing to play hide and seek with him

mostly because he is a terrifying seeker. you hide in the bushes and not two seconds later you hear those loud ass military grade boots stomping in your direction

ik no one wanted to play hide & seek with his ass. he only got worse after he developed his unique magic

helped paint his family's nails bc he had such a precise hand

its probably the nail polish fumes that made him this way. among 10 million other things

you know how kids would give each other cards and lolipops on valentines day?

well, on heart's day, rook would have drawn a picture of all his recipients and attach a cool leaf or flower to it

its very adorable and extremely thought out. his old recipients still think of him to this day (real)

rook had very nice penmanship even at a young age. he started by replicating his fathers handwriting and liked the flow of cursive and flair of a signature (rook has made a lot of personal signatures for himself)

had a wax stamp phase where he would dry out and collect a bunch of flowers and presses to make wax stamps

he still is crazy about wax stamps but now he can carve his OWN presses with his OWN knife 👍👍

made homemade twisttube videos at home with his siblings. they range from movie scene recreations, lip sync videos, or full on original scripts

be assured that the costumes, lighting, acting, and editing were rather top tier for their age, and it is because rook's family is exuberant like him (all cutie pies!!)

Epel

mud pie maker

he and the chickens in his village go wayyy back

didn't need animal linguistics to understand the clucks

uhh hey did anyone else have the experience of having pet chickens and then having them disappear and reappear on the dinner table??

im not saying it happened but im also not saying it didn't happen

he does brush his hair. the only reason he hates it when vil brushes his hair is that he feels like his scalp is getting scraped off

the only way to get epel to bathe was to use those three-in-ones because he would never sit still

those children that get dirty thirty minutes after you bathe them. sigh

overlined his lips with his ma's lipstick because ma used it to look nice before going to sell their produce, and epel wanted to help with sales this time. you can probably guess what happened after

the dislike for cosmetics is lifelong

(he did apologize by picking a handful of dandelions for his ma)

adrenaline junkie through and through. as soon as his legs were long enough to touch the pedal, he'd be operating the forklifts and in no way was it safe or responsible

fed the birds with seeds meant for their garden. they were hungry :(

fiddled around with the stray instruments on rainy days, now he can play in perfect harmony during celebrations with his relatives

epel has perfect pitch. destined for pomefiore all along <3

epel did not fear bees. he has potential for being a beekeeper but he didn't want to wear the bee suit

learned how to read and write very early in because he wanted to help out around the village. epel put checkmarks to confirm shipments and things

a bunch of his drawings are hung around the home

'helped' his grandma Marja knit by using the needle to stab the ball of yarn she needs to hand it to her

Idia

banning him from anything was impossible

locking your kids away from the cookie jar would work for anyone but idia. and not for the spiteful reason you think

makes him want to do it more because its interesting enough to stimulate his genius little brain

at that point he doesn't even want the cookie anymore

doing mental gymnastics to exploit loopholes. having a remote controlled airplane fetch him a cookie isn't going against his parents' word because technically he never touched the jar at all

which leads to extremely specific rules established in the shroud household

some notable ones include "severed limbs are only allowed in the staff freezers on halloween" and "no hacking the automated showers to chase down staff member C for thinking Premo are cuter than ortho"

his minecraft boyfriend broke up with him after they built their house together

it doesnt end there though, it never does. ortho took control of the pc to burn down the house and idia also got them banned. never underestimate the rage and revenge spirit of a child scorned

you know that thing about a devil and an angel on the shoulders? well, ortho was 90% the enabler for Bad Behaviour

and mostly because if idia was thinking of doing something, chances are, ortho was already doing said something

the S.T.Y.X staff often with the brothers were usually roped into playing video games and were happy to listen to whatever the boys felt like talking about

idia would bring new inventions to them and play a guessing game of what they think the function was

ortho stunk really bad at building things from scratch, but he was pretty good at memorizing the names of the parts to help idia

idia would ask the staff to take them to the observatory often. they would learn all about the constellations and idia liked to chart how they changed through the seasons

Ortho

his parents mostly had him because idia always got too creative when he was bored and thought having a new baby in the family would help idia fix up his behaviour, you know, be a good role model for ortho and all

... turns out, ortho would be pulling idia into all sorts of mischief. and worst of all, he ALWAYS GOT AWAY WITH IT.

he is tiny but mighty

lots of attitude in this little body

his favourite word was 'why'

him and idia had new nicknames for each other all the time

some of the time they were just kid things, most of the time they were a prize

whoever clears the extreme level with the highest score gets to make the other call him a nickname of their choosing

his received nicknames included such like "cosmic warrior", "lord of the shadow realm", and "the almighty" (when he beats idia's high score... after 5 losses in a row that is)

has no problem hacking the main S.T.Y.X system then blaming it on the employees for having weak security (some bs like 'im six and managed to break into the most secure network')

im sorry but i can't deny it. yes, ortho is an ipad kid and yes his ipad was disgusting

except ortho actually does listen to cyber security and he didn't have the passcode lock, he had the password lock, and it was changed every other week

(idia has accidentally locked the ipad on several occasions trying to guess the overly complicated password)

insane attachment in the sense that he will make up some bs reason (AND a forged research paper to further solidify it) on why he can't be separated from idia

if he were actually surrounded by children his age, just know ortho would've been the biter kid

weaponizes his cuteness just like jade but in a more ^^🌸 way

in these cases he will only refer to himself in third person because it pulls the most heartstrings

tugging on idias sleeves and telling him "ortho wants a cookie" had yielded better results for him than "i want a cookie"

and ortho is nothing if not a very smart boy

Malleus

fully believed that eating the seeds of watermelons would cause one to grow in your stomach

grandma Malificia found it too funny to correct him and to this day malleus still believes it

1/2 contributor to lilia's hairstyle. whenever lilia tried to make him take his bath he would spit fire

(until lilia let him play with the bubbles that was)

when he was a little kid and knew he was in trouble, he would hide in all sorts of places and pout

except he sucked at it. his hiding skill was between "if i dont see you, you cant see me", or his tail would be poking out behind the couches

usually the servants would turn the other way unless it was an emergency. because if malleus was found by anyone but the Queen or lilia, he'd have a toddler tantrum (he thinks they gave up on him)

spent most of his early days finding comfy nesting places or hunting for shiny things. there was nothing but Instinct in his little noggin until he could transform into a bi-pedal form

every day, without fail, he would get his horns stuck in something and throw a fit over it

testiest kid to ever test. when you tell mal he can't do something he'll do it bc he wants to understand why he can't do it

wanted to help grow the roses in his garden faster by summoning a thunderstorm that lasted three days and three nights

whatever tantrums you think malleus throws now are the most mild ones in his entire life

a younger malleus would summon entire hurricanes unknowingly and he would screech and babble in old fae tongue

a non-briar valley resident could easily mistake this for a demon summoning, but this is a normal tuesday in the palace

TRUST, malleus' temper is the tamest ever in the entire draconia lineage

the palace staff actually thank the witch of thorns for her mercy because this tantrum only burnt the entire east wing of the castle to the ground. the young prince is so tame !!

Lilia

straight out of a horror movie, this one

has the long dark hair and only wore long white dresses to really complete the look

loves walking around bare foot to connect with nature. that dress will be smeared with mud, fur, and berry juice (that were always red or purple tones, to everyones horror)

you all have lilia to thank for the inspiration to this horror trope

im talking wandering around in the dark, glowing magenta eyes, which appear red at times

sits SO still when its story time and the story is ancient curses and tomes

was also the kid that claimed they had a ghost friend and that his peers were being mean to "billy"

and no his family was probably the exact same way tbh

the fae are sturdy and lilia went without supervision for days

its quite a normal thing in his household

lilia would be fighting real ass ghosts in diapers and his mom would be cheering him on

the streaks are not from a goth phase but it was more of a 'the fruit juice in cranberries make really nice paint did you know??'

he also really loves tomato juice and it happens to be pretty too, so, why not?

it was originally red streaks but faded and he liked the pink better

one day he packed his bags and told his parents he was going to live in the afterglow savanna and his mom straight up joined him in packing

i like to believe that lilia did have edible food as a child but the army just ruined his tastebuds for Ever bc at that point, food was only a substance needed to live, it didn't have to be enjoyable

yeah, anyway it would be super funny if lilia's parents were good chefs, but lilia legit cannot tell the different between salt, flour, and white glitter

lilia was scooped up by Malificia mostly for his skill but it really turned out to be a glorified playdate for Meleanor

the princess was a mENACE and lilia could take her thunderbolts a bit better than the rest of her servants

(meaning that lilia was the only one that wouldn't be screaming bloody murder, he just would be hella mad and Meleanor thinks his audacity is funny)

Silver

lilias method of feeding him was waterboarding him with milk and that does not come without consequences

although lilia would go out often, its safe to say that silver was never really 'alone'

lilia would have a magical beacon on him at all times even if mal was babysitting, and he appreciates that the wildlife took a liking to silver

speaking of, silver had no concept of stranger danger no matter how much lilia told him so

every time malleus would come over silver would ask him to play murder mystery with his dolls

his first word was an attempt at malleus' name

they played together a lot it was really inevitable

helps worms and snails when it rains by helping them get under tree stumps or grass

played with axes & garden shears (thanks lilia)

2/2 contributor to lilia's hairstyle. and by that i mean he gave lilia a haircut with garden shears (that lilia fully encouraged so silver could 'build his repertoire of skills')

at this point lilias hair length was more of a liability since his sons loved to tug on it and one had a penchant for burning it

take your eyes off silver for one second and he's gone. he saw an ant, a bird, a cool statue, etc etc

loved all the fairytales lilia read him and always asked to be read the ones where true love reigned

him and malleus ran off together (more like mal whisked silver away) everywhere to play and explore

mal loved to show silver the most random things and he would always speak to him like a grown up

would often protest at the end of the day because he didn't want to part ways with him

their earlier conversations looked like mal was listening to silver say something profound even though all silver could do at the time was babble in toddler language with the occasional 'tar-tar' (no one knows what this is but malleus insists that silver is telling him he's hungry)

Sebek

beat the shit out of rocks with sticks

in the colder seasons, and and silver would find rocks or big ice pieces to smash on the ground

poor dude grew up confused as heck. lilia tells him lots of things, and he goes home and his parents tell him a different thing

complained about going to the dentist so much that now silver knows so much about the teeth structure of fae

his siblings love him so much, they're always doting on him and pinching his cheeks and that's why his smiles are so big and nice (real)

refused to eat anything on a fork. he hated the taste of metal

much preferred to use chopsticks. learned because he was a Big Boy now (he is one) and can help himself!!!!

unexplainable hatred for felt fabric. he used to melt all of his felt puppets in the water

him and silver dug a hole in lilia's backyard thinking they could make it to the shaftlands

they didn't make it to the shaftlands, but they dug too close to the river, so the hole filled up with water

and while silver panicked, sebek straight up burst into tears thinking the hole was going to drain the river

also burst into tears one halloween where lilia was dressed up and claimed he was the river spirit and didn't know anyone named sebek

ate a dog treat at some point but silver and malleus also joined him (not before malleus trolled sebek by saying he's going to turn into a dog now)

sebek was so distressed that he dragged malleus into it that he questioned his entire life because he loved playing with sticks. did he eat a dog treat earlier in his life???

when questioned, sebek told silver he didn't need to worry about the dog treat because he already drank milk like a puppy anyways (referencing the milk waterboarding, of course)

anyways, this incident ended in a stick-sword fight and malleus got a bonk on the head from lilia for his instigating

this is where sebek learned it btw. silver developed a thick skull because sebek is ALWAYS bonking him on the head for not knowing things he deems 'everyone should know'

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @bigmoose1964

[tizeline]

I’ve never seen a separated au with Leo being raised by big mama, what do you think that would be like? (Since he’s kinda rebellious)

For the record, there are AUs where Leo's been raised by Big Mama, the ones I know of are Gemini AU by tangledinink and True Colors AU by v-albion. I'm not super familiar with either of them, but they're there if you wanna check them out.

That being said-

LEO being raised by BIG MAMA omg I have THOUGHTS

Listen, I don't see enough people compare Leo to Big Mama, but he's quite similar to her. Splinter and BM never got a kid together, BUT IF THEY DID that kid would literally be Leo he's basically just a fusion of the two of them!!

As I've mentioned several times before because I love bringing it up, Leo is strategic, quick-witted, observant and good at talking. In the show (as well as in my own AU) Leo's strengths aren't really recognized, let alone aknowledged for a big portion of the story. Because of that, for a long time he doesn't really get the chance to develop these skills, as much potential Leo has to become a master planner his impulsiveness and inexperience has a tendency to get him into trouble.

BUT! All of these skills also happen to be skills that Big Mama has and would value in Leo. So if he were to actually have to opportunity to not only be raised by BM but also trained by her for his entire life. If he got to properly learn strategy, planning, manipulation...?

... Holy shit Leo would be terrifying.

Think about it, canon!Leo managed to out-smart BM in Many Unhappy Returns without any real experience, just imagine what he could do with a whole life-time of training.... yikes!

Not sure what exactly Big Mama and Leo's relationship would look like. In my opinion she would view him as her son and love him dearly, especially if she knew that he's Splinter's biological son.... it's just that BM has interesting ways of showing affection. ("The love of my life just proposed to me?? Great! I'm gonna lock him up in my gladiator fighting ring for the rest of eternity!") She'd at the very least be quite controlling, I imagine.

As you pointed out, Leo can be quite rebellious, so that mixed with Big Mama's obsessive need to be in complete control of everyone around her would certainly cause some tension. Actually... considering how clever Leo would be in this AU... uh oh.

All of these qualities that BM initially appreciated and encouraged in Leo, what if, as Leo became more and more capable, Big Mama started to eventually view them in a more negative light? If she feels like she's loosing control over Leo, if she interprets Leo's rebellion as not just a normal teenage need for independence but rather him malicously working against her. What if she starts viewing him not as an asset or as a tool, but rather a threat?

If BM has reason to believe that Leo might try to overthrow her and take control over her criminal empire, she might take preemptive action and get rid of him before he has the chance to get rid of her.... Not like murder-get-rid-of, I don't think she'd just kill him, lol! But like lock him up, maybe throw him into the Battle Nexus, I dunno. Anything that would allow her to remain in control of both him and her business.

As for Leo, maybe he would actually try to overthrow BM. Considering he was raised by a literal mafia boss, his moral compass is gonna be a bit wack. Maybe Leo's desire for control over himself would cause him to try to seize control over his mother's business. Oooooorrrrr maybe Leo just wants some independance but doesn't actually want to compete with BM, so when she interprets his actions and behavior as malicious he's not prepared for that at all and, as a result, is more than a little hurt that his own mother would take such extreme actions against him. Who knows?

Hhhhhhh there's a lot of fun posibilities here but MAN I'm not really in the mood to work on an entirely new AU. Maybe I'll create some art for it I dunno, this concept is really fun, but I'm not gonna turn this into a proper Thing, so if anyone else wanna steal this concept and explore it for themselves, feel more than free to do that!

[snowsinterlude]

🥀 - drunk

(coriolanus snow x f. reader)

summary: "i can’t stop thinking about drunk clingy reader who flirt hug kiss on the cheek coryo and he just don’t know what to do and how react because they are friends 😭"

c.w: alcohol, drunk reader, best friend! coryo, mutual pinning, fluff, shortfic

being coryo's best friend, and the only one who knew what passed through his mind, you were obviously too close to him, to a point where everyone thought or joked that you both were dating.

with that in mind, you thought to yourself right now.

what am i doing in his bed?

"hey, y/n" coryo called, hand on your shoulder, he have been searching for you for the longest time now. you were nowhere to be seen and now that he caught a glimpse of you he could see why.

you were drunk. too many glasses of posca and wine and beverage and you were dancing, hugging everyone, kissing clemensia's cheek- god, you were terrible when drunk.

"cooryoooo!" you beamed, eyesight blurry and arms open only for you to beam into his arms, hugging him tightly. "well, hello mr. handsome!"

he was quite used to your drunken state, but he would and he never got used to you being so clingy when you were like this.

"yeah, hello." he said, taking the glass of posca out of your hand. "let's go home."

"nooo! why now? the fun just begun! not now, pleeeasee!"

"no, you've been here for like, three hours. let's go."

"only three! let's stay!" you said, kissing his cheek. his face contorted into one of displeasure, even though his heart was beating out of his ribcage, he felt like he would have a heart attack at the same time. "let's stay, hm? then, maybe, we can do something more..." you whispered.

god, you would be the death of him. that was all that he could think about while his hand gripped your waist and took you out of that party. he couldn't bear the thought of you doing that to anyone else.

of course, it wasn't jealousy. nor was it his problem. but he didn’t want to see you with anyone else. it was normal. not his fault.

"let's go home." he said again, a rude tone on his voice.

"no- oh, wait, you wanna take this home?" you laughed, maliciously, slyly.

you were making him embarassed, truly. the poor boy was almost falling behind on his feet.

but he managed to take you home, finally. the problem was when you arrived.

hands on his waist, grabbing him oh so tightly on your hands, you kissed his entire face, he was starting to think he would die already.

"y/n, you're drunk. stop that." he said, trying to pull you away, and of course he didn’t manage to. not this time. "please stop."

"stop being such a virgin! c'monnn, don't you want me-"

"i do. but not like that." and he hoped to god you wouldn't remember that on the next day. "not like this."

he put you to sleep after you threw up all the alcohol, tucked you into his blankets and watched you snore.

you were kind of cute when you were asleep.

when you remembered it all, everything that you did and said, you were so embarassed you wanted to die right on the spot, but then, while burying your head on the pillow, you thought again-

he wanted you?

[shiurkoma]

Take: chaotic evil Yehonatan, in which he knew David is meant to replace him and his father from the very start.

TLDR: Yehonatan is as, if not more likely to be the abuser in their relationship because it is plain unfair to overlook how humongous their power gap is, and he is abused enough to be at least a little unhinged in his noggins.

Warning: dead dove do not eat. Im going to entertain an idea where Yehonatan is definitely not a good person. If you have a problem with that, or have issue reading fictional underage abuse and emotional manipulation, please stop reading. Finally, nothing about this is meant to be serious interpretation of the original text, it's all plain headcanoning for fanfiction.

(For the record, i seriously do not consider David (even close to being) a morally good individual in any possible sense of the word. It doesn't make any of this ok tho)

Some fanfics i've seen paint the davinatan ship as a manipulative one, with david being the seducter that manipulates Yehonatan into simping for him, only to discard him after David achieved his goals. Even outside of fanfictions, i know of people who view Yehonatan as a tragic victim. While i appreciate David's more malicious side being acknowledged, and agree with it more than depicting them simply and benignly loving eachother(tho i appreciate that too), I can't help but think how both protrayal down plays just how utterly creepy yehonatan's part in the relationship is.

Like, Yehonatan, a middle aged man with wives and kids, went ahead and basically stripped in front of a teen the first night they met then gave him some really personal and valuable gifts. If thats not a red flag i don't know what is.

Yehonatan is someone you do not want to cross, maybe even more so than Saul.

It is easy to forget that, holding the title of eldest son and legal heir to the throne comes with immense pressure, responsibility and danger, and dealing with all that takes more than just a thick backbone. With a deranged father as king, people around him are constantly plotting to take the throne for themselves. All bets are off in the war for the throne, even if Yehonatan doesn't actually want to be king, his competitors (which includes but not limited to his entire family) wouldn't rest until he is dead. He isn't in a position where he can just back off: it isn't unheard of that princes and kings renounce their positions, retire, and end up getting assassinated or executed anyway. Because king or not, they are still legitimate heirs to the throne and therefore a potential threat.

Basically, Yehonatan lives in a situation where he simply cannot afford to show weakness or hesitation, not to his subordinates, not to his brothers, not to his father, not to anyone. What doesn't kill you makes you dangerous, and Yehonatan is deadly in that sense.

(But its not to say all that didn't take a toll on his mental wellbeing. Yehonatan has no business being mentally ok. He watched his father ascend to the throne, watched as Saul sunk further towards insanity, and had to endure his often psychotic abuse for years. I don't believe one bit that he isn't depressed and at least a little messed up, especially in a time where mental illnesses aren't even acknowledged yet.)

To sum it up, as a weathered crown prince, Yehonatan would logically be a person who is reasonably paranoid, moderately ruthless, extremely strong willed and more than competently intuitive about the motives and intentions of people around him.

David on the other hand (at the start of their relationship anyway) had no prior experience mingling with politics, no ties in the palace, was never regarded with importance by his father or brothers (meaning he had zero exposure and no one ever invested in him), young and inexperienced (meaning vulnerable to manipulation), stands no chance against Yehonatan if he were to play mind games on him.

David could pull an Esther on Yehonatan. But keep in mind Esther and a lot of other femme fatal spies in history had ties that helped pull strings from the outside, they are often not the master mind either. David had himself, and practically nothing else.

This is why Yehonatan helping him matters so much. Useing weak willed and easily manipulated individuals only works for you if you are already a powerful dictator. If you have absolutely nothing you need powerful allys.

The most straightforward option for dark Yehonatan is just to kick the creep element up ten notchs. David tries to seduce Yehonatan, then immediately realises he bit off more than he could chew: he is just too possessive to be controlled. Yehonatan in this scenario probably somewhat resembles that purple creep from Tokyo ghoul, entertaining while the shock value lasts, but after that it gets pretty shallow. I hate this approach tbh.

Or, him seeing David that day was Yehonatan's last straw(what i doodled basically). He stops giving a sh*t about everything, and thought since he is so "in love" he might as well groom and sodomize David. Its a petty way of getting back at God for making him fall for the boy, and for making his life miserable in general.

He uses his charms and presents himself as a saintly figure to appeal to David's more religious side, then proceeds to not only make sure that David is emotionally dependent on him(i won't elaborate how but its easier than you think), but also plans to make it so that if he dies it will f*ck David in the head. He enjoys this, because for once in his life he feels a "real" sense of control, albeit a twisted and perverted one.

(Maybe he will feel shame and regret eventually, but thats another talk for another day.)

I'll borrow my friend's comment to sum up the take: "a broken abused individual perpetuating a cycle of abuse to an ambitions sociopathic twink, each making the other worse just through being together." Another reason i prefer this version of dark Yehonatan is cuz it restores some agency Yehonatan desperate lacks.

Strayed quite far from his canon image with my shameless slandering but yeah that's about it. For now. Might explore David's pov in this later.