#but yeah that’s all I’ve read for him

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!�� You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[papaya-twinks]

just an assistant - l.n - part.idk

Warnings: Smut, 18+, fingering, handjob (kinda), swearing, degradation

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

🎀

A/N - coz y’all seemed to like this, I’ve decided to continue it. 

Lando seemed to have a remarkable way of putting himself down, even if he had achieved the best result humanly possible. Such as when he secured pole position yesterday and he still looked downcast. 

Somehow, neither of you had said anything about the little…sexual escapade the pair of you had gotten up to recently, and you instead continued to work not all and freely. “Lando, I’ve got the paperwork for the team meeting after the race,” you said, handing him a stack of paper. 

“Cheers,” he muttered, taking them and dumping them on the side. It frustrated you how careless Lando could be, but after all, you weren’t here to control him. Just to manage his stuff. And yet, as you watched the race unfold, with the mass of team orders and the fuck off the pit strategy, you were almost horrified. 

The way the tea, guilt-tripped Lando and how pissed he looked as he stepped out the car, congratulating Lando with a half-hearted smile. You half-expected Lando to…take his anger out on something. Rather, someone. 

You. But…he didn’t. Instead, he just walked past you, going to read the papers you’d given him earlier. But it didn’t take a whole ass genius to figure out what he wanted. He’d initiated almost all of the occurrences between the pair of you. 

Maybe….maybe he wanted you to initiate it. You stood outside his door for a solid five minutes, rebating with yourself whether this was a good idea or not. Fuck it, who cared? “Lando,” you said, walking into the room as he made a noise, but said nothing. 

You huffed, a little annoyed he didn’t even look up, as you took the paper from his hands, making him finally look up. “You’re angry,” you said, seeing how pissed off he looked, both at you taking the paper, but mainly the race. 

“Media is in an hour,” you said. God, how the fuck were you supposed to initiate it? “You’re so shit at everything you do,” Lando said, rolling his eyes as your cheeks turned a light pink hue, “can’t even initiate sex, can you?”. Just hearing him say the word ‘sex’ sent a shiver through your spine. 

“Need help for everything, don’t you?” he said, pulling your wrist to pull you onto his lap. “Pathetic,” Lando rolled his eyes, pulling his belt down, grinding your hips down onto his growing bulge. 

“Lando,” you gasped as he ignored you, bunching your hair into his hand as he lifted your skirt, pulling his suit down, his cock springing between your thighs. Fuck he was huge. “D’you think I should’ve won, Y/N?” he asked, eyes fixed deeply on yours. 

Fuck, he was putting you on the spot. “I…you should’ve won,” you said, as he cupped your hand in his bigger one, bringing to round his throbbing member. “How long hybrid you wanted this?” Lando asked, bringing his lips to suck on your neck. 

“Since….since I met you,” you said quietly as he smirked, his hand round yours. “Go on,” Lando encouraged you, holding your hand as he pumped himself, eyes fluttering closed. “Fuck,” he hissed, “good girl,”. The nickname itself was enough  to send shivers down your spine, as he moved you to lay on your back. 

“Always wear such small clothes,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your skirt over your ass, pulling your legs over his shoulders. “Lando,” you started, not even knowing what you were gonna say as he shushed you with a small smack on your thigh. 

He kept your hand wrapped round his throbbing member, his fingers trailing up and down your sensitive, moist folds. Your hand moved in rhythmic twists up and down his member. “God, look at you,” Lando said, more to himself than you as he stared between your legs. 

“Keep going, yeah?” Lando ebbed you on, moving both of your hands onto his cock, your thumb teasing at his tip as he held you on his lap, inching his finger into your core. With the other hand, he moved his fingers to slide of your clit, gliding through your heat. 

“Fuck, Lando,” you gasped as he pumped his finger slowly inside of you, bringing his other hand to spread the juices he’d collected across his own dick, as a sort of lube. “Couldn’t even manage to initiate this yourself, could you?” he scoffed.

“All you had to do was ask,” Lando sighed, his voice full of mocking as he curled his finger against your g-spot. “Oh, fuck Lando,” you gasped, hand instinctively squeezing tighter round his member. 

You could practically feel how Lando breath hitched as he pulled his hand away from between your legs, pushing you on your back on the massage bed. “An hour before media, you said?” Lando raised a brow, “how many times can you cum in an hour?”. 

Lando clamped his hand down on your mouth to stop any moans leaving you, as he ran the head of his cock over your entrance, before sliding in gently. “So fucking tight, aren’t you?” Lando gasped, one hand sliding into your hair, the other holding your stomach flat down. 

“Lando,” you gasped, voice muffled by his hand as he slowly pulled all the way out, running his throbbing head over your clit once more, collection yout warm juices across his length, before sliding back in. 

You’d barely even had him inside of you, and the room almost smelled like sex, your small white shirt clinging to your chest and arms as Lando worked on removing it, pushing his cock back into you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips slowly going from rocking into full

-on snapping against yours, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing as he fucked you. He still had one hand on your mouth, the other throwing your shirt off, moving to cup yout tit through your bra. 

You could tell Lando liked more fonts that just his dick slamming into you, one hand on your breast and the other coming to press gently on your neck. The restriction on your airways wasn’t enough to truly hurt, but add to the pleasure. 

It was like some sort of way Lando could show you who was in  control,mas if you couldn’t even already tell with the way he was drilling into you. The feeling of his cock punching in and out of you was heavenly, you felt like you’d pass out from just the feeling of his member deep inside of you. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he said one hand running your hair, tugging gently to bring your head down enough for his lips to crash against his. “Lookin’ so good f’me,” Lando groaned, his voice deep as he closed his eyes, head tilting back slightly. 

Lando!s hands trailed down your body, one resting tangled between your hair, the other threading round to lay on your neck. “Come on, Y/N,” Lando said, his voice deep and gravelly, “you can do one thing good f’me, and that’s that you can cum,” Lando groaned. 

“You showed me just how well you could not long ago, baby,” he said, giving your jaw a quick kiss, before he dropped his lips to your neck, taking the supple skin between bis teeth, nipping at your sensitive skin as a small purple bruise appeared.

“Should just hire you for sex, shouldn’t I?” he asked. There was so,eating about the bitter degradation that did somehow build up pleasure in you, but you were half-hoping maybe he could be a little easier on you. 

After all, you weren’t as incompetent as he made out, in fact, nowhere near as much. “Lando,” you gasped, eyes going a little red from the tears of how hard his cock was slamming into you, his hips angled so the head of his member hit your g-spot perfectly. 

In your mind, be looked like a damn angel, his abs glinting with a thin layer of sweat, but in his mind? All he could see was you. He didn’t know why he insisted on being such a dick to you, but it was almost…attractive, seeing you upset. In some odd way. 

You could feel your body shoot into tiny spasms as your orgasm flooded through, your pussy clenching round Lando as he groaned, holding you down a little as he kissed and nipped at your neck gently.

“One more f’me,” he said, not leaving any room for question as he rolled his hips a few times, pumping in and out of you before he resumed his rapid movements. “Lando,” you gasped, your eyes rolling back slightly as his hips snapped into yours. 

You were sure Lando would be leaving bruises on your hips and thighs, your hair a mess beneath you. “I said…i did say h-how many times I can make you cum in an hour,” Lando said, looking to the clock on the wall. 

“One more, yeah?” Lando said, his words almost encouraging as he slowed down the pace of his snapping hips, now gently rocking in and out of you. “You’re such a pretty girl, Y/N,” his voice was no longer rough and commanding. 

Now…soft? This was unlike Lando. But you didn’t hate it. It was nice, having someone treat you well. You opened your mouth to say something, no words coming out as Lando rubbed soothing circles along your hips. 

“That’s it,” he said softly, “cum f’me, and we’ll go do media and I’ll clean you up after, okay?”. Your second orgasm flooded through as Lando pushed into you, once, twice, before he slid himself out, cum shooting in thick hot ropes on your abdomen. 

“Just a bit of media left,” he said, a warm smile on his face as he gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead. Whether Lando wanted to be mean to you right now or not, he didn’t, 

Because he could see how hard that had been, how much he had overstimulated and pushed you, whilst he had his thumb rubbing on your sensitive clit, and he knew you needed some aftercare. 

[wolverigrl]

Scorched Earth

Logan Howlett x mutant reader

!Disclaimer! Y/n is a mutant with the same skills as the human torch! Let me know if you'd like to read another part!

Warnings: mentioning of alcohol and death, angst

Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------

“Bobby, for real, you can’t possibly think that’s better than mine!” I laughed, leaning back on the chair in the kitchen, feet propped up on the table. Across from me, my brother grinned, folding his arms over his chest with that cocky smirk of his.

“You’re just jealous I got the better nickname.” Bobby replied, his voice light, teasing. “Iceman? It’s sleek, it’s cool - literally - and it fits me.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Oh, please. ‘Iceman’ sounds like the title of some second-rate action movie. Meanwhile, I’m lighting up the sky over here.”

Bobby raised a brow, feigning offense. “That’s a lot of talk from someone who’s still stuck with ‘Firecracker.’ ”

I punched him lightly on the arm. “I’ll take ‘Firecracker’ any day over your ‘cool’ puns.”

Our banter was easy, the kind that came naturally after years of being siblings. Bobby had always been the steady one, the one who could calm everyone down with a joke, while I was the hothead - pun intended - never one to back down from a challenge. It’s what made us a good team, even if we drove each other crazy half the time.

The way he carried himself, his calm demeanor, and his unwavering sense of control over his powers - everything I wasn't.

I was the fire to his ice, the chaos to his calm. We clashed often, but it wasn’t because we didn’t care. It was because we cared too much. And despite all the bickering, all the teasing, there was a bond between us that no one could break. I’d die for him. He was my anchor when my temper flared, my tether to reality when my powers spiraled out of control.

Just as I was about to throw another sarcastic remark his way, Logan walked into the room, his usual gruff self. He barely acknowledged us, heading straight for the fridge. Typical.

“Hey, Logan!” I called, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. “Did you finally get that stick outta your ass, or is it still lodged in there pretty good?”

Logan froze mid reach for a beer, then slowly turned his head, giving me the look - the one that said 'I am not in the mood for your crap right now, bub.' But that just made it more fun.

“Don’t you have somethin’ better to do, hotshot?” he growled, slamming the fridge shut and twisting the cap off his beer with more force than necessary. “Or do you just live to run your mouth?”

I smirked, unfazed. “You know, it’s funny you say that, because I’ve noticed you love listening to me. Maybe it’s because no one else has the guts to call you out on your eternal grumpiness?”

Bobby snickered from beside me, enjoying the show. “She’s got a point, man. You’re not exactly known for your sunny disposition.”

Logan shot Bobby a glare before turning his attention back to me. “Maybe I’m grumpy ‘cause some people around here don’t know when to shut up.”

“Oh, come on, Logan. You’d miss me if I didn’t poke at you every now and then.” I said, leaning forward with a grin. “Admit it - you secretly love the banter.”

Logan let out a low, frustrated growl, shaking his head as he took a long swig from his beer. “The day I admit that, is the day hell freezes over. And even then, I’ll blame Bobby.”

Bobby grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, don’t drag me into your weird dynamic. I’m just the innocent bystander.”

I shot Bobby a mock glare. “Innocent? You? Yeah, sure. Tell that to the last five people you pranked.”

Logan huffed, clearly done with the conversation, but I wasn’t quite finished yet. “You know, Logan.” I continued, leaning back again and stretching my arms behind my head, “You really oughta work on that sunny disposition. You’re gonna give yourself wrinkles with all that frowning.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, jaw clenching. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and keep that fire of yours under control?”

“Oh, I keep it very controlled, thank you very much.” I said, flashing a smile. “Besides, you seem to enjoy living dangerously. Why else would you keep hanging around us?”

Logan shook his head, muttering something under his breath before retreating to his usual corner of the room, beer in hand, grumbling the entire way. Bobby leaned in toward me, his voice low enough so only I could hear.

“I still think you’re his favorite.”

I laughed quietly, watching Logan brood from across the room. “Nah, he just hasn’t figured out how to handle all of this yet.” I gestured to myself with a playful smirk.

“Sure, that’s what it is.” Bobby chuckled, leaning back with a relaxed sigh.

Despite Logan’s gruff attitude and my constant teasing, there was a kind of unspoken respect between us. He was the first to step in when things got dangerous, always willing to put himself on the line for the team. And even though he’d never admit it, I knew he appreciated having someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge him, to call him out when he was being extra cranky. In a way, it kept things balanced.

Bobby and I exchanged another look, both of us knowing exactly how this dynamic worked. I teased Logan, Logan growled, and the world kept spinning. It was our version of normal - a delicate balance of sarcasm, snark, and the occasional grumpy Wolverine glare.

It was one of those rare moments when everything felt light, even if just for a little while. Days like these, with Bobby teasing me, and Logan grumbling from across the room, were the best. I’d give anything to hold onto them.

But life as an X-Men had a way of reminding you that those moments could be fleeting.

And I didn’t know then just how fleeting they would be.

Todays mission was supposed to be a standard takedown. Another mutant extremist group, radicalized and bent on 'mutant supremacy'. Charles had briefed us thoroughly, and we had faced worse before. Or at least we thought we had.

It went south almost immediately. We were outnumbered, and it was clear that our enemies had intel we weren’t prepared for. They knew where we would be, how we would strike, and worse - they knew how to separate us. That was when things really started to fall apart.

The battlefield was a mess of chaos and screaming. Blasts of energy, ice, and fire lit up the sky, while the air howled with the sound of Storm’s winds tearing through enemy lines. I was a blur of fire and fury, every step a combustion of flame as I ripped through the chaos, throwing up walls of fire to keep enemies at bay. But no matter how hard we fought, there were too many. We were getting spread thin. Too thin.

I caught sight of Bobby ahead of me, just in time to see him raise an enormous ice wall to shield a group of our teammates. His back was to me, and before I could shout a warning, a blast from one of the enemy’s weapons slammed into him, sending him sprawling across the ground.

“Bobby!” I screamed, my heart lurching.

He struggled to get up, one knee bent, but the blast had been too much. His walls of ice began to crack and crumble around him. Panic rose in my throat like bile. He was surrounded, the enemies closing in.

I pushed forward, flames erupting from my palms as I blasted through the mob, trying to reach him. “Hang on, I’m coming!” I shouted, but my voice barely cut through the cacophony of combat.

But I wasn’t fast enough.

Before I could get to him, a second blast hit him. The impact was devastating. I saw his body jerk violently before he collapsed, crumpling like a rag doll on the cold, scorched ground. Time seemed to slow, my breath caught in my throat, and everything else faded away.

“No!” My scream tore from my chest, broken and raw, but there was nothing I could do.

He was still, too still.

I scrambled toward him, my flames fizzling out as I dropped to my knees beside his body. I reached out, hands trembling as I gently touched his face. His skin was cold, colder than it should have been. His chest didn’t rise. His eyes were closed. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I couldn't hear anything except the roaring silence in my own head.

He was gone.

“Bobby, please…” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Please don’t leave me.”

I don’t know how long I sat there, holding him, begging for him to come back. I couldn’t save him. I. Couldn’t. Save. Him.

Then, something broke inside me.

The grief, the rage, the helplessness - everything surged at once, overwhelming every rational thought. The fire inside me, the power I always tried to control, flared up in an instant. It wasn’t just fire anymore - it was fury, pure and uncontrollable.

Flames erupted from my body, hotter and fiercer than they ever had before. I screamed, the sound ripping through the air as fire exploded in all directions, a supernova of heat and light. The ground beneath me cracked, molten lava seeping from the earth as the intensity of my power burned through everything in its path.

I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to.

The flames raged out, consuming everything they touched. The enemy soldiers who had killed Bobby screamed as they were incinerated, their bodies turning to ash in mere seconds. The ground smoked, trees around us igniting in a blaze, and the air became thick with heat.

Jean’s voice echoed in my mind, faint, as if she was shouting at me from the end of a long tunnel. “Y/n, stop! You have to stop!” Her voice was desperate, but I couldn’t listen. Couldn’t hear her over the roaring firestorm inside me.

Storm tried to summon her winds, pulling clouds thick with rain to douse the flames, but it wasn’t enough. Even the sky couldn’t hold back the inferno that had taken over me. I felt her power strain against mine, but my emotions fueled the fire, making it burn hotter, stronger. I was losing control completely, my body heating up like the core of a star.

“Y/n! You’re going to kill everyone!” Scott shouted through the comm, his voice barely audible over the roaring flames. I could see them, all of them, struggling to get away from the heat, the fire spreading in every direction.

Charles reached out, trying to touch my mind, but I was beyond reach. His calming presence couldn’t get through the thick walls of grief and rage that had consumed me.

I was going to burn everything. Everyone.

Then, through the haze of heat and fire, I saw him.

Logan.

He was moving toward me, slow and steady, ignoring the screams of the others as they begged him to stop.

“Logan, no! You’ll die!” Jean’s voice, frantic, but he didn’t listen.

“Logan, don’t!” Storm shouted, the wind whipping around her, but he kept walking, one foot in front of the other, his eyes locked on mine.

I couldn’t stop the fire. I was too far gone, too lost in my own power. The heat radiated off me in waves, scorching everything in its path, and yet he kept coming.

His skin started to blister almost immediately. The heat was unbearable, even from where I stood. I could see his face contorting in pain, could smell the sickening scent of burning flesh as he got closer. His clothes were already charred, the leather of his jacket melting and fusing to his skin. But he didn’t stop.

I wanted to scream at him to get back, to stop, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was watch in horror as he walked into the flames, his healing factor struggling to keep up as his body was scorched by the heat I was putting off.

And then he was there, standing right in front of me, his skin bright red, his hands trembling as the fire licked at his skin. His face was a mask of pain, sweat and blood mixing with the charred burns that covered his arms and neck. But his eyes, his eyes were steady.

“Y/n.” he said, his voice low and raspy, strained from the pain. “You need to stop.”

“I can’t!” I gasped, my breath catching as the flames flared up again, fueled by the storm of emotions inside me. “I can’t control it. I-I’m going to kill you, Logan!”

“I don’t care!" he growled, taking another step closer, his boots melting into the molten ground. His body trembled, his skin bubbling and cracking under the heat, but he didn’t back down. “I’m not leaving you.”

Tears streamed down my face, evaporating the moment they hit the air.

His eyes locked onto mine, unwavering, even as the flames licked at his skin. His face contorted in pain, but he didn’t stop.

“Bub.” he rasped, his voice hoarse from the heat. “You need to let go. I know it hurts, but you gotta stop.”

I couldn’t hear him over the roar of the fire. I was too far gone. The heat, the flames, my emotions - it was all consuming me. I was a supernova, and there was no pulling back.

Logan took another step. His healing factor was working overtime, but even he couldn’t withstand this for long. Yet, he didn’t hesitate.

“Y/n!” Logan yelled, louder this time, and I felt his words cut through the haze. “I know what it’s like! To lose someone - hell, to lose everyone! You feel like you’re gonna burn up inside. You feel like it’ll never stop, like you’ll never breathe again. But this ain’t the way!”

I felt the fire flare around me, almost as if it were trying to drown out his words. I wanted to listen, but the grief, the rage - it was still so raw. Bobby was gone. How could I stop the fire when everything inside me was screaming to let it burn?

But Logan didn’t back off. He stepped into the heart of the inferno, his arms opening, and wrapped me in a hug. The flames surged as they met his body, and I could feel his skin burning under my touch. I could smell it. His face twisted in agony, but he didn’t pull away.

“Let it out, hotshot. Let it all out,” Logan whispered, his voice softer now, almost tender. “But don’t burn yourself with it. You ain’t alone. I’m here.”

I could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breaths ragged from the heat, but his arms around me were steady, grounding. In that moment, the fire faltered, flickering as my mind struggled to grasp what was happening.

Logan - the one person who could barely stand to be in the same room as me without a sarcastic remark - was holding me, burning alive in my fire, all because he wouldn’t leave me alone in my pain.

And then, I felt it.

The fire started to die down, the flames retreating into my skin as I began to sob against his chest. The heat that had consumed me so completely, so violently, began to ebb, leaving behind only the suffocating weight of grief. Logan’s chest was soaked with my tears as I clung to him, my body shaking with the force of my cries.

“I couldn’t save him, Logan." I choked out between sobs. “I couldn’t- ”

“I know." Logan murmured, his voice rough but soothing. “I know, bub. It’s not your fault.”

The last of the flames flickered out, and the air around us was suddenly cooler, still. Logan’s body, still blistered and burnt in places, didn’t move. He just held me tighter, letting me cry into his chest, never once letting go. I buried my face into the fabric of his ruined shirt, his heartbeat the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

After what felt like forever, I became aware of the world around me again. The sounds of the battlefield had quieted. Jean, Storm, and the others were slowly approaching, their faces a mix of worry and relief.

“We need to get back to the mansion,” Scott said, his voice soft but firm. “Y/n, Logan… let’s go.”

Logan didn’t move to let me go, and I didn’t want him to. The thought of being alone right now, without the steady warmth of his presence, was unbearable.

“Can you walk?” Hank asked me.

Logan shook his head, giving a low grunt of pain as he stood up, still cradling me in his arms. “I got her.”

I felt Logan’s arms adjust under me as he began to walk, carrying me like I weighed nothing. I should’ve been worried about him, should’ve told him to let me go, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I pressed my face into his chest, feeling the burn marks on his skin, the roughness of his wounds. He was hurting because of me, but he didn’t care.

The journey back to the mansion felt like a blur, the sounds of the battlefield fading into silence as Logan carried me, step after step, his breathing labored but determined. I clung to him, my body exhausted, but my mind still racing with grief and guilt.

When we finally reached the mansion, Logan carried me straight to my room. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and laid me gently on my bed. His face was tense with pain, but his movements were careful and protective.

I reached out, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave. “Don’t go... please.” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I-I don’t wanna be alone.”

Logan’s eyes softened, just for a moment. He gave a small nod and sat down on the edge of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip slightly. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer any more words of comfort, and for that, I was thankful. I didn’t need words. I just needed him to stay.

I curled into his side, my head resting against his chest once again. His heartbeat was slower now, more even, though his body was still warm from the burns. He didn’t flinch when I pressed closer, seeking the comfort of his presence. His arm wrapped around me, holding me close, and for the first time since Bobby died, I felt a small flicker of something like peace.

As I sobbed into Logan’s chest, my body exhausted from the emotional and physical strain, I felt his hand gently stroke my hair. He didn’t say anything, just let me cry. His presence as steady as the heartbeat beneath my cheek.

The tears slowly began to subside, my body relaxing into his as the exhaustion took over. I was grateful for the silence, grateful for the way Logan just was - strong, unyielding, and never pushing me for more than I could give.

Eventually, my eyes grew heavy, the grief and pain pulling me into a restless sleep. The last thing I remembered was the feel of Logan’s hand still in my hair, his quiet strength wrapping around me like a protective shield.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself drift into sleep, safe in his arms.

---------------------------------------------------

[absurdthirst]

Fucking Fungus {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN, dub con, post apocalyptic world, scavenging, guilt, shame, desire, Joel having a bad attitude, mentions of periods, rough sex, neediness, unprotected sex, cream pie

Comments: Coming across Wymore, NE, you hoped to find some much needed supplies for the coming winter but you find that the fungus has mutated in dangerous and frightening ways. Needing to insure that there are more hosts to infect in a very basic kind of way.

🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉Happy Birthday @storiesofthefandomlovers!!!! I love you and hope you have the best damn day! In thotty tradition, here is a sex pollen to celebrate another year around the sun!🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The world has changed in the past twenty years. None of it for the betterment of humanity. The crunch of the dried leaves grinds under your boots and your head rotates left and then right as you watch, listen. Waiting for any sign of life or more importantly, danger. The weight of your rifle is heavy in your hands, although you hold it down, unassuming but ready to be lifted at a second’s notice. 

“I don’t know why you don’t just hook it over your shoulder.” Ellie snorts, her backpack bouncing slightly on her back from the steps that seem so unencumbered by worry. Why should she worry when there are two fully armed adults on either side of her. Her own personal guard in a manner of speaking. “There hasn’t been anything out here for daaaaaays.” She drags the word out like it's the most horrible thing in the world that it’s been peaceful. 

Joel snorts, rolling his eyes as you glance over at him and then look back out at the surrounding terrain. “Yeah, that’s why we are on guard.” He grunts, even though his own rifle is on his shoulder. His hand gripped the shoulder sling loosely but he had only just put it up there half an hour ago after you had taken your turn relaxing as much as you can. “it’s too fucking quiet.” 

He’s right. After the disasters that had been Kansas City, you had tried to avoid major cities, but even in the small towns, you had come across plenty of cordyceps and clickers. You hate the clickers with a passion.

The isolation can account for a lot of the silence. Miles stretching between remnants of civilization. The crumbling buildings and overgrown roads give the entire midwest a sense of peace. It’s unnerving. 

Your grip adjusts, head rolling around your shoulders slightly to try to loosen the knot that builds up in your shoulders after so long. The weight of your pack isn’t as heavy as it should be, the rations not exactly filling since you had to escape that one clicker in Du Bois, Nebraska. Your pack had been ripped and most of the food you had been carrying was lost. 

You glance over at Joel, noticing the way his shoulders seem to hang, almost a reflection of the way you feel. “We need to risk a larger town.” You murmur quietly, knowing that his first instinct will be to argue with you. You stumble slightly over a rock and hiss when you feel the hole in the sole of your boots. 

“Too dangerous.” Joel snorts, shaking his head even as he watches you regain your footing. “I’ve got some duct tape in my bag.” He reminds you, knowing that you should probably reinforce that shoe before you lose the sole all together. 

“It’s not just shoes.” You protest, trying to ignore the way that Ellie groans obnoxiously loud and stomps her foot. 

“Come on, man!” She throws her own arguments into the ring. “I need tampons! We could find them if there was jack shit out here, but there’s not. Do you want me to attract wild animals?” She presses, glaring at Joel who looks equal parts horrified and unconvinced. She cracks an evil grin. “Circling us in the wild as I just leave behind a trail of blood? Aaaaand tears.” She adds, lifting her brows. “Periods are really emotional things.” 

Biting your lip to keep from snorting, you watch as Joel; normally stoic, no bullshit Joel, can’t seem to string together the words to respond. His eyes slide over to you, almost pleading with you to say something. 

Your brows lift in question and he twitches slightly, his dark eyes unhappy with you not immediately jumping in to save him. “We could use the food if we can find any.” You rationalize, smirking when his brows pinch together and he looks like he had just been betrayed. 

“Clean underwear!” Ellie adds. “Or….cleaner. And a heavier fucking coat.” She shivers slightly and you can see that is the moment when Joel caves. He acts like a prick most of the time, but he’s got a soft spot for the kid. He won’t admit, maybe not even to himself, but he looks over at the faded and nearly rusted out sign. 

You continue walking, not pressing any more and you can hear the grumbling thoughts that are rolling through Joel’s mind. The now half hearted protests about why this is such a bad idea but you wait for the sigh. 

Almost even with the sign is when it comes, heavy and it sounds almost pained. Like he is going against everything he believes in. “Stop.” He huffs, shuffling to pull his bag off his back and kneeling down with a groan and the small pops of fifty plus year old knees. Unzipping the pocket where he keeps the Atlas and flips the worn pages to Nebraska. Glancing back at the road behind you and then at the sign before looking at the map. Tracing the route that you had already traveled before looking ahead at the towns that were on highway 77. 

Ellie doesn’t say a word but she practically bounces on her toes as she waits for his decision. You know that he’s going to agree, it’s just a matter of which town he chooses. He knows the truth of the situation. Winter is going to come quicker than any of you want, your food supply is low, you could probably all use a new set of boots, and all of you would kill for a halfway decent musty mattress to sleep on. Four walls and a hopefully non-leaking roof over your heads would be the icing on the cake. 

“Wymore is coming up in fifty-eight miles.” He taps the map and looks up at you to see what you think. 

Ellie shuffles slightly and instead of grinning, you crane your neck to look at the map yourself. “It looks like it’s bigger than the last few towns, but at least it’s not like we are running into Lincoln.” You hum before you nod. “I say we try.”

“Yessssss!” The teenager pumps her fist in excitement and she grins when Joel rolls his eyes. You’ve noticed that like any normal teenager, her favorite activity is annoying any kind of parental unit and pushing boundaries. This applies to Joel whether or not he likes it. “I want to find another joke book too.” 

Joel groans but you just turn around, grinning yourself as Joel mumbles under his breath, stuffing the map back in his pack and zipping it up. Joel and Ellie are alike in a lot of ways, especially their penchant for mumbling. 

You resist the urge to offer him a hand up, knowing he will be even more pissy if you do. For someone who complains about being older, he gets downright grouchy when he’s reminded of that same fact. “Well then, the quicker we get there, the quicker we don’t have to hear ‘are we there yet?’.” You snort, making Ellie grin shamelessly as she shrugs, knowing she will do exactly that. 

“So let’s get going.” She doesn’t wait for anyone, just setting off down the road and leaving the two of you to catch up with her. 

****

It takes you nearly three days to get to Wymore. All of you are tired, but Joel is the one who barely sleeps, even when you force him to lay down. It’s as if he cannot stop trying to protect Ellie, and also you, long enough for him to rest. He gets upset when he has to sleep, staying up until he is nodding off. The coffee supply has been exhausted and it’s probably a good thing. He would drink it all day to the point where his hands would shake from too much caffeine. Still he just wouldn’t trust you to make sure that no one snuck up on you for a few hours until he was past the point of being useless. 

The first signs of the town are a welcomed relief but it’s also an added source of tension. Each mile that you had traveled had added to the fear that this might be the time that you fail. That something goes wrong and someone else dies. The road here has not been easy and the losses have weighed heavily on all of you. Joel still won’t even mention Tess and you hate it when you wake up in the early morning hours to find him staring down at the broken face of his watch with a look that breaks your heart. 

Every approach into a new area can mean danger, either from the clickers or from humans and honestly you don’t know which one you fear more. Your gun is back in your hand, the weight of it familiar and comforting as you pass the first gas station, the windows busted out and dried fungus clinging to the building. 

“Fuck.” You hiss, uneasy at the presence of the fungal vines, even if they look like they aren’t active.

“I wonder why it looks pink.” Ellie frowns as she squints at the building. “It’s usually an ugly brown color, right?” She looks towards Joel for confirmation, but he’s busy frowning at the building himself. 

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” If the cordyceps have spread this far out of town then there’s a possibility there are still active branches closer to the supplies that you are looking for. 

“Come on man.” Ellie groans, kicking a dirt clod. “There’s nothing for miles. It’s probably all dead.” 

You know that Ellie is probably right, but it’s a risk. You bite your lip, looking over at Joel. “Why don’t we sweep the town and we can see?” You ask, knowing that if everything is dead, you could desperately use the rest. Cordyceps rarely return en masse when the vines have withered and died. It could be a safe place to recharge and for Joel to sleep for more than ten minutes at a time. 

You’ve stopped walking as you talk, Joel looking around as he contemplates your alternatives. To be honest, there aren’t many and both of you know it. Not without a lot of backtracking which none of you want to do. 

Joel sighs and you know that he’s going to agree. He turns to Ellie. “Don’t fucking touch anything until we say it’s alright.” He points at her for good measure, as if his finger would impress the importance of his words. “Got it?” 

“Got it.” She huffs. “Jesus, you act like we haven’t done this before.” You roll your eyes and look away, knowing you shouldn’t encourage her right now. 

It takes hours to make your way into the center of town. Not because you are blocked by clickers or avoiding humans, it’s because you are stocking up. It’s like the fungus took over this town and just let it rot. Nothing inside the first few blocks of town is disturbed. No looting has been done here, plenty of supplies to be had. 

Both you and Joel have been cautious but slowly optimistic as you’ve found boots and heavy jackets, gloves and hats. A new pair of clothes have been rolled into everyone’s bags and you’ve even grabbed another pack to fill with the mylar sealed packs of camping food from the sporting goods store. It was a miracle that nothing had been ransacked, but it makes you wonder exactly what the fuck happened here. Did the army sweep through and round up all the residents right away? It would make sense, but then why were there dead spores of the fungus here? You haven’t seen one body so far and it makes you nervous. 

“This place is a fucking gold mine.” Ellie grins like a kid in a candy store, perhaps because you’ve actually found candy and she has been sucking on the jolly ranchers until the top of her mouth is raw. “Now we just need to find a place to sleep. I want my own room.” 

Glancing over at Joel, you expect him to immediately tell her no, but he doesn’t say a word. Continuing to look around like he is expecting a clicker to pop out from the doorway of the local McDonald’s, now completely covered in that strange pink fungus. It’s like he doesn’t even hear her as he frowns at the building. 

She takes that as approval and immediately starts talking about how she’s going to spread out. Making you snort when she talks about sitting in her underwear for an hour. There hasn’t been a lot of privacy out here on the road, so you can understand that desire. 

“Joel.” You murmur his name softly, knowing that the best thing you can do is to find the motel and get settled down for the night before the sun sets. Even if this town is as safe as it appears on the surface, you would rather not be fumbling around in the dark . He doesn’t look over at you, still staring at the overgrown building as if it’s holding the secret. Maybe it reminds him of the Boston Museum, ominously covered with the tentacles of the fungus and the horrors that you had found inside it. “Joel!”

“What?” His head whips around, body tense as he’s ripped out of his thoughts. Relaxing when he finds you and Ellie staring at him. “We need to find the motel.” You remind him, nodding towards the sun getting lower in the sky. “I think we could all use a good night’s sleep.” 

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes searing your face, looking for some hidden meaning beneath your words before he glances over at an eager Ellie. “Yeah, sure.” He agrees, adjusting his rifle to sling it onto his shoulder and adjusts his now much heavier pack on his back. “Probably on the other side of the main drag.” 

His new boots thump against the cracked pavement. The roads leading deeper into the town is the guide towards what will hopefully be a comfortable bed and at least eight hours of sleep. 

Your own new boots feel pretty good, but maybe a day or so here, going through supplies and really making sure that you can take on the coming winter would be a good thing. Allowing you to break in the shoes without blisters. You’ll have to talk about it with Joel after Ellie sequesters herself for the night. 

It’s about another fifteen minutes before you get to the small motel that looks like it will be a good place to spend the night. Half the building is covered in another large cluster of the fungus, the pink hue looking particularly bright in the fading sun. 

“We’ll get some keys.” It will be better than breaking down doors, especially since the motel wasn’t equipped with the keycards that the high end hotels had started switching to before society came crashing down. 

The bad news is that the motel doesn’t have any adjoining rooms, so Joel and Ellie get into a small spat about her having her own room, Ellie eventually winning after promising that she will block the door with a dresser and he’s allowed to sweep the room before she locks herself in. Half the building is so overtaken by the vivid pink fungus that you swear looks like a big splat of bubblegum thrown over the walls. 

She doesn’t even want to have dinner with you and Joel, making the man go through the room and then telling you both goodnight and shutting the door in your face. Making you laugh as Joel frowns at the door, rethinking this entire situation. 

“Well, you can have a room to yourself too.” You offer, smirking as he cuts his eyes towards you. You know that Joel would rather everyone sleep where he can keep his eyes on them, so you getting privacy is off the table. 

“Shut up.” Joel grunts, walking down towards the next room and kicking it open, watchful even though you’ve both already been in the room and deposited your bags. It’s a nice room, two double beds so each one of you can stretch out and relax. 

You laugh quietly and decide to walk down the railing towards the portion of the building that has been overtaken by the fungus. Your curiosity about this variant is finally getting the best of you and you want to get a better look at it. 

It’s thick. The tendril that is draped over the metal railing of the second floor, wrapping around it and up the support column. You bite your lip, tilting your head when you see the withered remnants of some kind of flower. What kind of fungus sprouts flowers?

You jump when something touches your back, whirling around to find Joel behind you, holding his hands up. He smirks at you, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Fuck you.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes and he huffs. “What are you doing?” He asks. 

Turning back towards the fungus, you sigh. “This is different from any other kind I’ve ever seen.” You comment, stepping closer to it only to feel Joel reach for your arm to pull you back. “It’s dried out.” You remind him, jerking your head towards the husk of the cordyceps. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” You know that he spent a lot of time sneaking out of the Boston QZ, it’s possible he had seen it before. 

He grunts, relaxing his hold on you and he shuffles slightly closer, looking at the flower buds that extend from the tendrils. His own suspicions about anything fungus related is deep, but it’s dried. “I haven’t.” He admits after a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly and trying to think if there is any reason why this pink coloring has the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

“So it’s something new.” You bite your lip and lean in, feeling the disapproval radiate off of Joel in hot waves but you ignore him. Tilting your head and reaching out to touch one of the dried flowers. 

“Don’t-”

The second your finger touches the wilted bloom, it bursts open, spurting you and Joel behind you in a cloud of pink dust. You gasp, holding your breath but there’s no hope for not inhaling the pollen. 

“Fuck!” Joel coughs, shaking his head and backing up so quickly he hits the side of the building and reaches out to drag you away from the lingering cloud of dust and starts to practically beat it off the two of you. “We need- we need-” He leans over and starts coughing, obviously having inhaled just as much of it as you had. 

“We’re okay.” You gasp, shaking your head and brushing the dust off your clothes. “We- it’s dead. Right?” You hate that you are asking that, but you hadn’t expected that from a dried out fungus.

“It- we should clean up.” Joel blinks, the pollen making his eyes itch and that has to be the cause of the rush of heat that slides over him. It’s just adrenaline. Fear. Anything that would scare both of you would make the slight nip in the air disappear and make you feel like your skin is superheated.

The water is gravity fed. The large cisterns on the roof are still full and while it’s not warm, perhaps a cold shower might be better right now. Joel drags you both to the room and locks the door, although he doesn’t push a dresser in front of it in case Ellie needs you in the night. 

In the bathroom, you are shaking as you start to strip down, worrying about how stupid you just were and if you completely fucked yourself. The anxious fear covering the way your skin seems to burn and feel so sensitive to everything. Shuddering when your hand brushes over your thigh as you push your jeans down and kick them off before you pull your shirt over your head and remove your bra. 

Clean up. Get the pollen off your skin and cool down. Your body seems to be working on overdrive. Your nipple hard under the cold water and instead of gasping in shock, you moan softly. Enjoying the sensation and reaching for the bar of soap that is still wrapped in plastic. 

Hurry up, hurry up. Joel paces around the room, his hands curled into fists. Practically sweating even though the air is cool as the sun sets. His body feels like it’s on fire, like he is battling a sickness. 

Over and over again, he goes through the symptoms of the infection of the cordyceps, there’s no veining, he’s stopped and checked his eyes and reflection in the peeling mirror about twenty times in the five minutes you’ve been in the bathroom. And he doesn’t fucking think the fungus makes his cock harder than a fucking rock in his jeans. 

He’s not thought about sex in months. Nothing beyond fleeting moments of attraction to you that he swiftly buries under guilt and responsibility. Normally, it is when you’re bent over and your ass is presented to him in such a way that he thinks about sinking into you from behind, or when your shirt pulls tight over your breasts and he imagines cupping them in his hands as you sit on his cock. Immediately dismissed and ignored as he reminds himself of how he had failed Tess, he doesn’t deserve to find warmth and comfort in your arms. 

Now, it’s all he can think about. The urge to palm his cock makes his fingers twitch and he almost moves his hand over his crotch before he flinches back to reality and tries to examine his face in the mirror again, wondering if his eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep or if he is infected. 

Scrubbing your body is nearly painful, wanting to stop and touch yourself, but you can’t. You need to get this done and get out so Joel can shower. Still, despite the cold water, you feel like you are on fire when you shut off the water and realize that you didn’t bring your bag into the bathroom. You will have to go out there in nothing because you can’t put those clothes back on. Not until they have been washed. 

Moderately dry, you hear Joel bang on the door. “Hurry up.” He growls, making you clench your thighs together at the raspy tone and hating how it spears through you. You know Joel isn’t interested in you, hasn’t ever looked at you like that and the crush that you had on the man had been buried deep. 

“I’m done.” You don’t have a chance to be embarrassed as you open the door and Joel practically shoves past you into the bathroom and slams it behind him. “Fuck.” Your annoyance cools the heat for a moment, but it’s only temporary. 

The water is icy, but still, Joel curls his hands into fists against the shower wall. He’s fucking hard. Harder than he had probably ever been in his entire life, even when he was a horny teenager and would have fucked anyone who let him between their thighs. He’s not felt like this ever. The need to touch himself builds to the point where his hips are rocking into thin air against the spray of the water. Want clawing up his throat and pooling in his stomach in a heavy knot. 

You don’t dress, you can’t. Crawling under the covers of one of the beds, you listen to Joel groan in the bathroom, it’s muted over the sound of the shower but it’s sexy. All of his sounds are sexy, from the low grunts he gives when he’s stiff and sore, to the huffs and groans of annoyance. It’s all sexy to you. The rasp of his voice when he’s not spoken for a few hours. 

Closing your eyes, it’s easy to give in, to let your hands drift over your skin. He’s not here, you can take care of this frantic need that is swirling inside you. You just need to slide your hand between your thighs and ease it. It wouldn’t take much more than a few swipes of your fingers against your pulsing and aching clit. 

Trying to fight it, you concentrate on your breathing, in and out. Inhaling slowly and holding it so you can exhale when the burn in your lungs tells you that you’ve reached your limit. It helps, but not much. Not when you’re imagining Joel in his shower. Touching him. Being free to touch him and having his hands on your body in return. 

Your hands slip over your breasts, squeezing them hard enough to moan softly and your legs shift to press together. Clenching around nothing and wishing that you were full while your hands start to move down over your stomach. 

The first touch is almost a relief, your entire core quivering as your fingers press against your clit. It’s overwhelming and not enough. You need more, fingertips pressing and rubbing around the puffed up bundle of nerves. You’re already soaked and can feel it dripping down your slit. 

Spurred on by that insatiable need, you slide your fingers around your entrance and start to press them inside. Biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Imagining that it’s more, that it’s a cock that is starting to break you open and fill that void that is aching. 

You are so caught up in the bliss of that first stretch of your fingers that you don’t hear the shower turn off. The quiet curses coming from the bathroom are muffled by the rush of blood in your ears, the feeling of relief coursing through your nerves and taking over. You don’t hear the click of the lock and the turn of the handle. The door opening doesn't even register as you plant your heels on the bed and push your hips up, needing to get your fingers deeper, not quite reaching the spot inside you that craves fullness. 

You don’t hear him until he chokes out a sound that is pained and low, like he’s injured. Your eyes pop open as you lurch up off the bed, your fingers ripping themselves out of your cunt hard enough to make you whimper. Fixed on Joel’s towel draped body, tented over his waist. 

“Joel, I-” “Fuuuuuck.” He growls, his eyes closing and his hands bunches into fists, one holding his towel and the other by his side. “I’ve tried to not think about you, about touching you.” His words are rasped out, strained against his vocal cords. “I’ve goddamn beat into my brain that you aren’t to be thought about this way and now, I can’t stop.” His stomach clenches and his body twitches as he struggles to keep still. 

Your chest heaves and you see his eyes drop down to your uncovered tits. His jaw clenching and his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows. “I - I need to touch myself.” You admit breathlessly. “I - it hurts so bad and I need something inside me.” 

Joel groans again, shuddering so violently that you can see him shake from where you are. “I’ve jerked off in the shower twice and it's still hard.” He drops the towel, revealing his hard and leaking cock, making you whimper at the sight and clench around nothing. “I think that- that we- that the flower-” “I don’t care.” You moan, shaking your head and crawling to your knees and shuffling forward. Showing him all of you and so goddamn desperate to touch him that you think you are about to explode. “Touch me, Joel. Fuck, touch me, please.” You beg, your hands on your own body. “We-” He shakes his head and his face changes, morphs into pain.

“Fuck me.” You hiss, watching as his resolve breaks. His cock bounces as he lunges for you, hard and swift, driving you back to the bed with a bounce. Almost as if he is attacking you. 

He’s not gentle. His mouth finding yours in a harsh kiss, your permission unleashing the coils of restraint that he had tried to put on himself. His grip bruises as he hauls you up the bed and settles between your thighs. 

You’ve always attributed Joel with rough gentleness. The type of man who would make you ache and then hold you close. Groaning in pleasure when you find out that is exactly what Joel Miller is like. His hands spreading your thighs with a desperation that proves he is just as afflicted by this fungal pollen as you are. His cock hard and pressing against your folds as he rocks his hips forward to line up. Almost unable to find the hole with his eagerness to sink into you. 

“Joel, hurry.” Your hands shake, holding onto him and urging him closer to you, frantic with need now that you know that you are going to have him inside you. 

“Goddamn, I’m trying.” He hisses, hating to let you go so he can take his cock in hand. Rocking into his own grip as he shuttles his hips forward. “I’m fuckin’ trying, sweetheart.” 

You whimper when you finally feel him pressing against your entrance, choking out a sound of need that is animalistic. Only to cry out in bliss as he pushes inside you without another delay. 

He groans, eyes cinched shut as he slides inside you to the hilt, burying himself in your heat and feeling that coil in his stomach tighten even more now that your walls are around him. Immediately starting to move just as soon as he fills you, driving by that need and burning in his very veins. 

It’s exquisite, the pain and pleasure blending and fusing in your stomach, nerves alight and responding to every small movement. You can’t get enough of him, you need more. Wrapping  your legs around his hips, you rise to meet his harsh thrusts. Clenching down around him every time he hits that spot deep inside you that you couldn’t reach with your fingers. 

He shouldn’t be inside you, he shouldn’t be touching you, but now that he is, he can’t stop. Turning his head, he presses his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth. Needing more. Kissing you like he had imagined a thousand times before. Giving into every urge he has had since the day he met you and repressed before right now. Snapping his hips forward sharply and pulling every groan out of your mouth to swallow down. 

Every thrust makes it better, eases that burning in your core, your cunt slick and squelching every time he drives into you. He absorbs every sound you make, almost greedy for them. His hips jarring as they slam into you. Rocking you both up the bed. 

“Oh god,” breaking away from the kiss, you moan into his ear. Closing your eyes as he pants and puffs while he fucks you. “So deep, so deep, Joel.” Your nails drag down his back, making him hiss in pleasure and pain. 

“Shit.” He groans your name, lost in the rhythm of his thrusts and the building pressure. “You needed this?” He growls, making you clench down around him hard and whimper his name. “Yessss.” You agree, nodding against the pillow. “Needed it so bad.” 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He huffs, burying his face against your neck. Continuing to pound into you, and not letting up even though his back is screaming in pain. His body won’t let him do anything but rock his hips. Driven by a need that overrides everything else. 

His words make you burn, making you even more desperate for him. Your hips rock up and legs tightening around his waist even more. Loving how his cock stretches you out and scrubs against every nerve in your cunt. Lighting up your body until you are gasping on the edge of that much needed orgasm. 

Every plunge into your body brings him closer to cumming, desperate to feel that emptiness, that wrung out filling once he has filled you. He shouldn’t cum inside you, he knows that, but he’s not going to be able to stop himself. He can barely pull back enough to rock his hips back into you. 

His arms have banded around you, holding you into place as he fucks you. Deep and primal, as if he is trying to fuse the two of you into one. His cock punches into the depths of your body that you never imagined anyone reaching, but he touches it with ease. Your body pulsing with that need to come apart. 

“So close, I’m so close, baby.” You whine, body starting to tremble underneath him. “So close.” Your nails dig into his shoulder, grounding yourself to him in desperation. “Joel.” 

“I gotcha.” He groans, eyes closed and his breath fanning against your skin. “I’mma take good care of you, sweetheart.” He promises. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock, ain’t cha? Just like you wanted.” 

His words throw you over the edge, that need built up so tight inside you that it busts on the next thrust. Lights careen and collide behind your eyes, bright and beautiful as your whole body ignites into pleasure like you’ve never experienced before. Crying out loudly and soaking  him in a wave of your juices. Cumming harder than you ever have before. 

Joel growls your name, his hips stuttering as you come apart around you. Unable to hold back any longer. He buries himself deep into your hot passage and paints your walls with sticks ropes of his seed. Panting against your lips as he empties himself body and perhaps his very soul into you. 

Both of you pant, relieved and exhausted from the pure exertion of need as you had taken from each other. Joel presses into you, trying to catch his breath, but the fire is still burning low in his belly, his cock still not softening as it twitches inside you. 

“Oh fuck.” You feel that same desire still curling in your stomach, not satisfied by the intensity of the orgasm that you are still coming down from. “Joel-” 

He huffs and shakes his head. “Don’t-” he presses his lips to your again, body screaming as he starts to move again. “Shhhhhh.” 

The need still burns and both of you are still locked in its fiery grip, not yet free from the desire that washed over you from a burst of pollen. 

****

“What the fuck man, open the door!” The thudding on the door finally penetrates the bone deep sleep you had finally fallen into. You don’t know how many time Joel fucked you, or how many times he had spend himself inside you as you blearily open your eyes. 

Joel grunts, slowly opening his own eyes and unwinding himself from the tangled together position that you had passed out in. The knocking on the door keeps on. “Joel!” Your name is also shouted, Ellie starting to sound somewhat panicked when neither one of you is immediately opening the door. 

“Fuck! I’m coming.” He drags the top blanket off the bed and wraps it around his waist before flinging the door opened to blink into the harshness of the sun. “What?” He growls roughly, making Ellie’s eyes blow wide with shock.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” She demands, pushing into the room and stopping short when she sees you sitting up in the only bed that has been disturbed, the sheet anchored beneath your armpits. “Oh shit, you fucked.” She gasps, turning and shooting Joel an impressed grin. “Way to go, old man, you made a move.” Her grin quickly turns into an expression of mild disgust when she realizes that she’s congratulating you two on having sex. “Uh, I’m gonna go now.” She huffs, wrinkling her nose and pinching it. “It smells in here.” Waving her hand in front of her face, she darts back out the door and Joel just stands there for a moment before he rolls his eyes and goes to shut the door before he thinks better of it. Sticking his head out of the room, he shouts after Ellie. “Stay away from the fucking fungus!” 

You snort, grinning to yourself as your body starts to ache. Fucking fungus indeed. 

[cloudycera]

Guardian Shazam interactions I’ve decided make sense.

*HomeSchooled?*

Freddy: I’ll give you whatever book you want but I can’t teach you nothing.

Mary: No one was asking, Billy when you first said you were home schooled I was under the impression you meant it. You know like someone was teaching you.

Billy: I did mean it Mary, I just teach myself at home, that counts. I can read perfectly fine and I can do basic math and stuff.

Freddy: Then why do you want the textbooks?

Billy: It’s nice to know what kids are up to nowadays!! Always exciting to get my hand on actual schoolwork so I know I’m not that behind.

Freddy:……..Please just ask me to get you something inappropriate next time-OW!

Mary: Be quiet. I get it Billy, learning is still important even if you don’t go to school, I’ll bring you some of my homework and teach it to you if you want.

Billy: Thanks Mary :D

*Lovely Little Lady in the Justice League*

G.Shazam: I know it’s weird but I can fling half of you 50 feet in the air with one hand so please stop staring at me.

Superman: I apologise I’m just still confused on how you and Batman came to this agreement?

G.Arrow: Yeah what could’ve possessed him to string you into the league.

G.Shazam: Oh I wasn’t “stringed?”- em- “Strung along”? It’s not like that I wanted to join because it seemed like it’d be nice to get to know more heroes.

Batman: And I lost a good game of Poker in hell.

Flash: Excuse me?

Batman: Long story, Ms. Shazam helped me out and I when she asked if she could join I couldn’t say no…..apparently Lucifer is really scared of her.

G.Shazam: Oh you didn’t lose Mr. Batman, demons don’t play regular poker so they were definitely cheating and Mr.Lucifer never calls them out on their bad behaviour. I didn’t help you to get in the league promise, it’d be mean if I just left you with all that trouble.

Wonder Woman: Hahah! No need to be shy young one we can all see your honesty.

Superman: *whispering* Are you sure this is a good idea, she’s a kid?

Batman: She’s level headed, humble and works good in a team. With enough guidance who knows how far she’ll go, plus there’s nothing wrong with adding a youthful perspective.

Superman:…….”Youthful Perspective” Bruce….. You have like 9 kids how much youthful perspective do you need.

Batman: They’re not in the League.

Superman: That’s your only justification?!

[theosmanuscript]

tequila & empty cups

theodore nott x reader

warning: not proof read and its 2 am im dead tired

word count: 800+

synopsis: at an afterparty celebrating slytherin’s big win against gryffindor with bf!theo

author's note: sorry for the lack of content! i’ve been terribly lazy tehe!

Typically, the dungeons of Hogwarts are dark, cold and gloomy. First and second years were always huddled up in a corner, scrambling to complete their overdue assignments. This time, none of them were in sight. The highly anticipated Quidditch match resulted in Slytherin’s favour and like every other win, another raging party was put on. 

Green strobe lights lit up the common room and the air was filled with the scent of intoxication. Pansy and Lorenzo were on the floor, amidst the sea of people, dancing to the rhythm.

The loud music blasted out of the speakers made your heart thump with excitement. Mattheo and Blaise were on top of a table which surprisingly supported the weight of two beefy beaters. The former shouting the lyrics to Weasley Is Our King at the top of lungs along with the rest of the crowd whereas Blaise was taking swig after swig of the Firewhiskey which was graciously provided by an anonymous seventh year. On the other hand, Theodore was seated on the leather chair and you, comfortable on his lap.

“Weasley cannot save a thing! He cannot block a single ring!” Mattheo sang, throwing both his hands into the air. 

You watched with amusement while taking a sip of the strange concoction of punch and tequila out of the plastic cup. Contrary to popular belief, Slytherins knew how to appreciate Muggles’ masterpiece of hard liquor. Theo’s hand stroked your thigh that was draped over him. 

“He’s making a fool out of himself,” Theo whispered into your ear. His breath was hot against your neck and your skin started to tingle. Your heart pounded against your ribs as you looked into his eyes

“C’mon, he’s just having fun,” you replied, holding in a laugh as the table wobbled and Mattheo stumbled. “Couldn’t hurt to loosen up too, Mister Nonchalant.”

Theo snorted and sighed, “I think I need a refill, if you want me to loosen up.”

“I can do it. I need someone to top me up too.” You swung you legs off his lap and stood up, straightening your skirt that rode up. Theo probably had a good view of your ass but you didn’t care.

You took his now empty cup and walked towards the bottles, opening them, careful not to waste a drop of liquor. After all, it was difficult to acquire and sneak the bottles into the castle. 

“Great turn out, right?” 

You jumped at the sound of the voice. Turning around to face Adrian Pucey. He looked far to merry to be sober. You doubted he could walk in a straight line. 

“Yeah, I mean it was the last game before the end of the year,” you said nervously, “I think someone would have to be a bloody prat to miss it.” 

Adrian laughed as he took a step towards you. He was definitely not sober at all to disregard how uncomfortable you looked. 

“Well, I’m glad I made it. Wouldn’t want to miss seeing you here,”

You took another step back, as he reached out to grab your arm and a lump formed in your throat. 

“I have to get back to –” 

“C’mon, baby. You know you want this,” Adrian insisted. He tugged on your arm as you tried to wriggle out of his grip.

 “Pucey, let go of me,” you shrieked. As if you wanted anything to do with this slimy, lame excuse of a man.

“C’mon, we will have so much fu–” 

“She said let go of her,” a familiar, husky voice snapped from behind you. You turned to see Theo standing there, arms crossed and he looked pissed.  

Adrian’s face paled, immediately letting go of your arm. Your arm was painted white. How tightly did the wanker have to grip you? Adrian left as quickly as he came, pushing through the crowd, escaping from your volatile boyfriend.

Theo’s face was dark and if looks could kill, Adrian would have been burnt alive by Theo’s scowl. 

“Are you alright, cara mia?” Theo asked, worry written on his face.

You looked up and sighed, “Pucey was just being a prick. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Theo’s finger went up to your face, stroking your cheeks gently. “I love you.” he professed. He glanced at your lips and held your waist, pulling you closer to him. His lips met yours and your eyes fluttered close. You brought your arms up and placed them over his neck, deepening the kiss. Theo squeezed your waist and you let out a gasp, taking the moment to slip his tongue in, dancing with yours. 

Your eyes opened as you pulled away to take in some air. Looking into his eyes as you responded, “I love you too.” 

© 2024 theosmanuscript. All rights reserved.

[doitforbangchan]

Hey honey bun! I know you’re not taking requests right now but I just can’t get over Seungminnie in ABANB😩 I’ve read fics where he was “mean” but nothing has really giving me what he did in it😅

Could you, when you can give us a little short fic of him & baby? If not that’s fine.

ok ok, i have also been craving abanb minnie! thank you for reading nonnie 😘

ABANB drabble 03

‘ I will love you for all eternity, my beloved gem.’

‘And I, you my lord.’ The maiden breathed harshly as she professed her love to the knight. But alas she knew she could never be with her handsome knight for it was forbid-

Suddenly the book was yanked out of your hands, just as it was getting good too!

“What are you reading, puppy?” Seungmin laughed at your surprised face. You had been so engrossed in your book you didn’t even notice him enter the room. He looked at the cover and raised his brow, “ ‘A Knight to remember’, huh? What kind of sappy shit is this?” The beta began to flip through the pages.

“Minnniieee noooo I don’t have it bookmarked and I don’t know what page I’m on!” You whined, leaping out of your seat on recliner and attempting to grab your book from him.

He only laughed harder and held the book over your head. Seungmin tilted his head up to read some random exert off the pages while you still jumped up trying to reach it.

“ Ooohh I get it, this is a naughty book. ‘The knight crooked his thick, rough appendages inside the slicked cavern of the maiden until he touched her most delicate spot’, I didn’t know you were into this kinda thing puppy.” He snickered.

You gave him a pout, jutting your lip out and crossing your arms, trying to ignore the way your face heated up at his teasing (and at having been caught reading a smutty book).

“It’s just a story..” you mumbled, “doesn’t mean I’m into anything.”

“Don’t pretend with me, little omega. I know just how dirty you can get. Do I need to remind you what you let me do to you last night?” Minnie smirked at how you gulped as you remembered how sore you were this morning.

“No, I remember well enough.” You grabbed the book from out of his hands when he lowered it. “I still can’t walk straight.”

“You’re welcome.” The beta grinned, cackling when you hit him lightly with the book. “Bad dog, that’s not how you treat someone who has a present for you.”

“A present for me?” You asked cautiously.

He nodded, “yeah. What, did you think I came in here just to bother you for no reason?”

“Yes.” You deadpanned.

Seungmin put a hand on his heart in mock hurt, “You wound me baby. No but for real I have something for you.”

He held out a hand for you to take and you did, putting your smaller one in his. The beta led you up to his room and closed the door behind him.

“Ok, close your eyes.” You could hear the smirk on his voice but you did as he asked anyway. There was a slight rustling then you felt something wrap gently around your neck. “There you go, now you look like a real puppy.”

You opened your eyes and reached up to feel that he had placed a choker on your neck. Looking in the mirror it was a thick corded band that was dark pink and it had a little pendant hanging from the front. And it had the name ‘baby’ etched into it.

“you.. you actually got me a collar?”

He shrugged, now feeling slightly nervous that this was a bad idea. That was until you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into his skin, inhaling his petrichor scent.

“Do you like it?”

You nodded, trying not to cry. It was a sweet gesture even if it was a little.. possessive. “I do. thank you Mongie!”

He groaned, “ughhh don’t call me that!” But the pink dusting his cheeks told you he secretly liked it.

You giggled and wiped away your tears, “I love it. thank you minnie. And i love you.” You placed a kiss on his lips, squealing when his teeth nipped at yours playfully.

“I love you too, baby. so much. Also you were on page 212. Just so you know. ”

You smiled with hearts in your eyes at him, making him want to look away in embarrassment. You looked back in the mirror and looked closer at the ‘collar’. It was cute, and no one would suspect the intention behind it unless you told them. At least that’s that you thought until you looked at the back side of the pendant.

“Seungmin.. Did you seriously put your name and number on the opposite side?!”

[acesgayhusband]

Write more Sanji fics or Ace GETS IT (this is a threat)

🍩🔫

Let me get what I want.

Warnings: None I don’t believe? Self deprecating Sanji if you squint. Crybaby reader. Angst to Mild Fluff. I was threatened to make this /j.

AN: sorry for being dead for so long, I had a job and then abruptly didn’t have a job, I went to galaxycon early this year, then a concert, then got into a car accident, then lost my job. So I’ve been struggling! Thank you guys for being so patient with me! I’ll be writing more fanfics soon I promise. Requests are still open! I don’t get nearly enough.

Also this fic is mildly inspired by @onlymurphy ! Their works are fantastic and they write sanji so well!!! Please go read their works if you haven’t already!!

Sanji could hear your feet clacking along the sunny as you began to walk from the deck, where he presumed you were sitting and chatting with Robin and Nami, before you made your way to the kitchen.

He didn’t think it a creepy habit to have memorized your footsteps he did it with everyone’s, yours just stood out the most. But he kept all of that to himself, not wanting to drive you off by knowing you just by the sound of your feet, his heart already racing in his chest well before you opened the door to the kitchen.

“Hi, Sanji.” Your voice was so heavenly, he had to prevent himself from swooning too hard at it. He’d treat you like every other woman he spoke to.

“Hi, [Name]-Swan! Is there anything I can do for a beauty such as yourself.” He said as he turned around, seeing you roll your eyes at him, it made him falter a bit, the smile on his face drooping a bit as you walked over to the cupboard, opening it and grabbing a cup out of it.

“I just needed some water, thanks though.” There was no malice in your tone, perhaps he was reading too much into you? His eyes followed you as you walked to the sink. “Well you know I wouldn’t mind getting you three something to drink.” He walked up behind you and smiled, tapping his fingers along your spine gently, enjoying the slight shiver he felt from you.

“We’re fine, and stop doing that.” Hissing as you swatted his hand away before reaching for the faucet to fill your cup up. He retracted his hand ever so slightly. You’d never been remotely sour to him, nor had you ever swatted him away when he touched you.

“Is everything okay, pretty?” He peaked around to your front to look at you, just to see a scowl on your face. He could feel his heart drop in his chest.

“Yeah! Everything’s great when you don’t constantly have your hands over me and the other girls!” You yelled out, snapping towards him, before turning the water off and storming out of the kitchen, your footsteps stomping back to where you were previously before you came into the kitchen.

Standing there, dumbfounded, he stared out the kitchens door. You’d never shown any distaste for how he treated you? Sure he could be a little handsy but he never took it too far, you weren’t dating, and he never disillusioned himself with the thought you’d want him.

After a moment, he walked to shut the door and pressed his back against it.

Ever since you had joined the crew, he’d been far more infatuated with you than Nami or Robin, you were down right beautiful to him.

You weren’t abrasive, but you weren’t incapable of taking care of yourself. You had a sweet, simple smile on your face most of the time, but you were sensitive. Loudly wailing whenever any one of your crewmates were injured, screaming out for Chopper even if he was no where in sight. Even over a slight cut.

This was so out of character for you, the off chance you were rude, you typically apologized as soon as the words came out of your mouth.

Pushing tears back, Sanji walked back over to the stove and thought about what to make for dinner, hoping to keep the tears away for as long as possible.

“I dunno guys, that felt really mean.” You said as you sat down in your beach chair on the deck of the sunny, right in between Robin and Nami, resting your glass in between your thighs.

Robin didn’t look up at you as she continued to read her book, but Nami looked at you and scooted a little closer. “C’mon. You’ve been complaining to us for months about how he acts, plus, some guys like it when we play hard to get. Maybe it’ll get him to notice you instead of you just going along with whatever he does.” She smiled at you, running her fingers up your spine just like Sanji had done a few minutes prior, in a teasing manner.

But Nami’s fingers didn’t elicit a shiver from you, it just caused you to look down.

“I dunno, maybe? But he seemed kinda upset. I don’t wanna hurt his feelings.”

Nami rolled her eyes at you and put her sunglasses over her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. “You won’t, he probably wasn’t upset. You’re just overthinking it, keep up with it, at the worst maybe he’ll ask you if he did something wrong, he wouldn’t be mean to you.”

Looking down at your reflection in the glass, you sighed. “Okay, I trust you, Nami..”

For the rest of the week you have been unreasonably rude to Sanji- minus to his food, you would never stoop that low- shoving him away when he touched you, ignoring him or snapping at him when he said anything slightly flirty with you. By the fifth day he had completely stopped interacting with you, and that shattered your heart.

Yeah nice going Nami, all that trust down the drain.

During one of your night watches, all of your emotions had finally bubbled up as you looked over the rail at the ocean. Tears streaming down your cheeks as you fall to your knees, your hands gripping onto the rail as you choke back sob after sob. You’ve been hurting him, hurting the man you’ve had feelings for, for so long, he’s done nothing but be gentle with you and you’ve been hurting him.

You don’t have the sixth sense Sanji does with shoes, so when you hear footsteps walk up behind you, you assume it to be Nami, maybe even Robin.

So when you look over your shoulder at the person who came to you, you go wide eyed at the blonde haired cook behind you.

“Pretty? Is everything okay?” You take a moment to examine his face, his eyes seem red and puffy as well. But he’s taking the time to come to you and make sure you’re okay.

Shaking your head, he takes a single step closer before stopping himself. “May I?” He asked as he opens his arms, implying he’s trying to hug you, you nod your head so furiously you think if it wasn’t attached it would have fallen off.

He steps towards you and joins you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you in an almost suffocating hug, you in turn cling to his shirt and wail.

Although he hates to see you cry, apart of him is glad, maybe that means you’re back to your old self. Maybe he won’t have to beat himself up over what he did to hurt you, maybe he didn’t hurt you? But then why would you be so angry with him..

As you cry into his shirt, he can make out some words through your sobs. But not the whole story. Pulling away for a second, he lifts up your chin with his finger and smiles at you. “Hey.. hey- breathe, okay? You can tell me afterwards, alright?”

Nodding as you try to catch your breath, his other arm hasn’t left you. Oh how you missed him, so badly.

Once you calm down, you let out one more hitched breath before gripping his shirt even tighter.

“I’m.. I’m so sorry, ‘Ji. Nami told me maybe if I was mean to you maybe you’d stop flirting with everyone, maybe you’d truly… pay attention to me..” you mumbled as you looked down at the wood on the deck, using one of your fingers to trace against the grain.

Sanji swears in that moment god looked down on him and blessed him, you could hear his heart racing in his chest in that moment, even inches away.

He lifted your chin up once more. “Pretty, I do pay attention to you, far more than anyone else.” Smiling down at you as he saw your cheeks flare up.

“So you’re telling me, not only did I do the exact opposite of what I wanted, but you… actually like..” you motion your fingers between to two of you, Sanji chuckles a little bit and nods.

“I’m so sorry!” You wail out again as you throw yourself on top of him, suffocating him in the tightest hug you can manage, also probably waking up the rest of the crew in the process.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! I’m just glad you’re back to normal, pretty.” You look up at him and see the widest grin across his face, all you can manage back is a weak, not nearly as strong, smile, as he leans down to give you a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll sit with you the rest of you watch if you’d like.”

“I’d like that a lot, thank you, ‘Ji.”

“No need to thank me.”

[melanated-writersblock]

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ The College Basketball Star!Chenle x Black!Cheerleader!Reader Chronicles ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

A/N: CHENLE STANS COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE! Me and my besties are seeing the Dreamies tomorrow so I figured I’d hammer this one out real quick (I finished this @ like 4 am on Tuesday so this was queued to post on Dream()Scape Eve🤣) It’s not much but it’s honest work. I’ve been wanting a tutor trope fic for a while so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone and just have the reader as Chenle’s tutor on some scholar type shit. And I’ve never written smut where the reader is more dominant SO BE NICE TO ME!!! Per usual, WwaBRiM but everybody [18+ AND UP *MDNI*] can read!

Content: Semi-public sex, sub!Chenle, dom!reader, dirty-talk, unprotected sex, reader is a grinderrr (o-o-o-o-o-ohhh), creampie, idk just filth?

The greatest thing to happen to you at university outside of joining cheer team, was getting that little corner office spot for tutors to use that just so happened to be in the back of your campus’ big ass library. Sure there were other tutors on campus, but they always met at coffee shops on or off site and in their dorm rooms. So the corner office became your domain with a key and everything for you to come and go as you please, no matter the hours.

And once Chenle found out, that became a problem.

10:45 PM on a Thursday night and you’re trying your hardest to be discreet about the actions taking place and the man writhing beneath you. “Ughh Fuck, if you keep bouncing on my dick like that I’m gonna cum”. Taking Chenle’s warning, you brace your hands on his shoulders, slowing your pace as you straddle the struggling athlete sitting with his back against the cold wall. “Oh my god yes, yes, that’s so good keep doi- Ahhh!” You can’t help but giggle at the needy state of your boyfriend and his shameless moans as you clench around him with each raise of your hips. “Wow my pussy’s just taking all of you today, huh?” You figured you’d never get him in another comatose submissive state like this again so you have to take advantage of your power trip. “Yes, baby yes you take me so fucking well oh my gooodddd~” he admits between gritted teeth, his head lolling to the side, “Aww, what’s wrong baby?” you lean into the man, your mouth right next to his ear.

Letting his actions speak for him, Chenle grabs your ass as if to forcibly fuck you onto him. You tsk at him, stalling your movements completely and staring him down in a playfully reprimanding manner. “Nooo? Come on love, you do this to me all the time remember?” Chenle drops his hands from your ass in defeat, looking almost like he wanted to cry. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking needy?” “Mnnn~” You start to grind, paaaainfully slow, hiking your already wrinkled skirt impossibly higher up your waist. “Come on baby, just tell me what you want me to do.” His eyes glaze over as he meets your gaze, longingly and full of yearning. Almost as if praying that being on the verge of tears was enough for you. As much as you liked when Chenle surrendered himself to your mercy, you knew that he was still hard to break and those glassy eyes were the most you’d possibly ever get. And honestly? You’ll take it.

Still in a kneeled straddling position, you plant one of your feet on the ground to have some leverage, the other leg remaining kneeled. Chenle’s breath becomes shaky with anticipation, and you smile at him sinisterly. “What do you want me to do, Chenle. Hm?” You finally sink back down onto his length, swiveling around until he bottomed out beneath you. He couldn’t help but moan at the sensation as you begin to pick up the pace. “Is this what you wanted?” “Ohhhh~” “Ohhh does my pussy feel that good to you?” You couldn’t help but mock him a little, “Yes it feels soo good~ughhh~” You begin to bounce on him full force, the lewd sounds of your skin colliding filling your office “Oh fuckkk yeah you like when I ride you like this?” “Uh huh!” “You like when I fuck you on the floor in my office? Huh?” “Yessss Yes I do! Fuck! I can’t-” You don’t let up, snaking a hand into his hair to tug at it, making him look you in the eyes right before putting him out of his misery. “I can’t I’m gonna c-” “Aww you’re gonna cum for me?” “Yesss oh my god I’m gonna fucking cum~” You lean into his ear again, “Then do it. Cum. Cum for me right fucking now. Cum inside of me right now. Cum for me, come for me, c-” Chenle begins to cry out and you moan as you feel him release in you, covering his mouth as you continue to ride him, tears streaming down his face. Muffled curses escape his mouth as you bounce on him, pushing him to a point of sensitivity, your juices mixed with his cum trickling down the length of his cock and pooling at the base, messing up both of your inner thighs. You finally slow to a stop, removing your hand from his mouth. Chenle lets out a labored sigh of relief and you can’t help but giggle at him. “Thank you, I really needed that,” “I know, that’s why I did it….you’re welcome”. You fix yourself to start getting up, but Chenle grabs your hips holding you in place on him. “Just stay like this for a sec.” “Why do you always have to-” “Shhhh” moments later, he pulls out of you as cum slowly leaks out of your cunt. You smile, shaking your head at him as you both clean each other and help the other get redressed. “Okay so be honest with me,” “Alright?” “Why exactly did you start coming to the tutoring office all of a sudden?” you wait for a valid response as Chenle starts fidgeting with things on your desk, “The coach said I need to bring up my grade in my Statistics course.” He doesn’t. He got a 96% and 100% on his most recent statistics quiz and exam respectively. “Oh you fucking liar!”

[jsmelodies]

Cassian thought it was supposed to be simple. 

Find the witch in the woods.

Convince said witch to give him Ataraxia.

Rescue the princess from the dragon guarding her tower, with said sword, from said witch.

If only the damned witch stopped getting in his way.

Written for @nessianweek Day 5: Behind Closed Doors

Because nothing says behind closed doors like getting to know a witch in the middle of the woods with no one around.

Read here on ao3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Cassian had a long time to think on the ride back to the palace. Once he cleared the thicket of the forest, he urged Ruby to go faster, settling into an easy canter for the remainder of the journey.

The sun was just beginning to hit the tips of the castle spires when he made it to the city streets. The children paused in their playing in the streets to watch him ride through the gates.

Ruby let out a snort as he slowed them down to a walk, and he flashed his typical easygoing grin to the children. For the first time, though, that smile felt ingenuine. 

Women gave him shy smiles as he rode by, nothing like the stern look of that witch in the forest. He hadn’t even gotten her name.

You want me to find you worthy? I don’t.

Was all of this just a lie? All of the years hoping he could be something better—something greater. What if he’d just deluded himself? What if he wasn’t worthy at all?

No one paid him any mind as he rode in. He wasn’t beat up like Kallon was, so there was nothing interesting to see. Cassian approached, sliding off of Ruby with one smooth movement.

Rhys and Azriel were already done for the day, placing their dulled practice blades back on the rack and leaning against the stone of the palace wall.

“I take it you didn’t have much luck,” Az said, noticing his frustration, and the lack of a princess on his arm.

Cassian considered not telling them the truth. He considered saying that he searched the woods all day without a single trace. But, he sighed and said, “I found her.”

Rhys frowned. “What happened? Can you remember?” he asked.

“Yeah, I remember everything. I messed up and insulted her. She struck a nerve, so I…”

Azriel watched him with an arched eyebrow. “You what?”

Cassian winced, knowing how what he was about to say would sound. “I may have implied that she didn’t have a soul.” 

Azriel let out a long, long breath. “Yeah. Alright, so you fucked up pretty badly.”

Cassian slid his gaze to Rhys, who had a singular eyebrow lifted.

“How important is this to you?” Rhys asked, his voice contemplative.

“I need to make it right.”

“Yeah, if there’s any chance of you getting that sword-”

“No,” Cassian said, cutting him off. “Regardless of that. I need to make it right.”

An honorable man wouldn’t have said what he did. And if by some chance he did, then that man would apologize. Rhys’ mother ingrained that lesson into him when he was just a boy.

He hadn’t meant what he said. It was all spoken out of anger, but it wasn’t okay. 

Cassian knew what he had to do.

***

He set out again the next morning. The witch wouldn’t try to kill him, he didn’t think. At least, not after he apologized. And he would apologize.

The ride through the forest was short, and his heart beat quickly in his chest for the entirety. 

He remembered the route back to her cottage with perfect clarity. She must not have spelled him, or whatever it was she did to Kallon, because he was able to follow the same path to her cottage, that thread pulling him along faintly.

It was almost like she was waiting to see what he would do.

He took a deep breath as he reached the edge of the line of trees, attempting to clear his head before he faced her again.

His eyes fluttered shut for just a moment. He could do this.

“I’ve asked you to leave. I won’t do it again.”

Cassian was dragged out of his daze by the words, and he opened his mouth, prepared to defend his presence, when he realized they weren’t directed at him at all.

Another man stood in the clearing, hulking and in full metal armor, like he expected a fight. Unfortunately, Cassian recognized that armor. Tomas Mandray. He stood with his sword raised, ready to attack.

The witch was in her doorway, clad in the cloak from yesterday, gripping it firmly around her body. As if that cloak was her own form of armor.

The woman didn’t deserve this. It didn’t matter what Cassian’s opinions were, or anyone else’s for that matter. She deserved to exist without fear of being harmed or killed.

As a knight to the kingdom, he would ensure she could.

“Tomas. That’s enough,” Cassian said, making the last few steps into the clearing.

“What are you doing here?” Tomas asked, sneering. 

They’d never gotten along, only ever exchanging stiff pleasantries before both going on their way. He had a feeling this conversation would not even come close to being that.

“The same as you, I imagine,” Cassian said, getting off his horse. “I’m here for the sword.”

A lie. Well, partly. 

“Then you understand the witch needs to die,” Tomas said. “They’re a blight on our kingdom, and need to be killed.”

The look on Tomas’ face, however, implied that wasn’t where his intentions ended. Cassian felt the rage bubbling under his skin, that if he hadn’t shown up, the witch might have been forced to deal with that.

“You don’t need to kill her,” Cassian said. “She’s just minding her own business. Leave her be.”

“Whatever,” Tomas said, turning away from Cassian, raising his sword once more.

The witch retreated back inside a step, but it was enough for Cassian to see that she was well and truly terrified.

Before he knew it, he’d moved and his sword was at Tomas’ throat. He would kill him, one of his fellow knights, if it came down to it.

“I won’t say it again,” Cassian said with a low voice. “Leave her alone. Take one more step towards that door, Tomas, and I’ll make you wish you hadn’t.”

The other knight’s eyes narrowed. “Whose fucking side are you on?”

“There are no sides. I just have basic human decency.”

It turned out his intervention was unnecessary, however, because the next moment Bryaxis had jumped in between Tomas and Cassian, hissing up a storm.

Tomas took a single step back, raising an amused eyebrow. “What’s her stupid cat going to do?” he muttered to himself, aiming to kick him aside with his foot.

Somehow, Cassian knew before it happened that it had been the wrong thing to say. Bryaxis shifted into a snarling beast with long, sharp claws that curled into the ground. In a moment, his teeth were as long as Cassian’s forearm and he stalked towards Tomas, black fur bristling on his neck and back.

Bryaxis stood almost three times taller than the man, and he looked ready to tear Tomas’ head clean off of his body.

“Oh, fuck,” Tomas said.

He held his sword out with shaking hands, prepared to fight. At least, until Bryaxis roared in his face.

Then the coward ran. He dashed back towards his horse tied to the edge of the clearing, Bryaxis snapping at his heels for the first few steps.

His horse’s eyes were milky white with fear, and she reared, yanking Tomas so hard that Cassian thought his arm might be pulled out of his socket.

Tomas yanked the horse back down. “You stupid beast!” he seethed, climbing up onto her back and digging his heels into her side until she uneasily started running through the trees.

Cassian would have let out a sigh of relief, if getting rid of Tomas was the only challenge he faced. But Bryaxis turned, still in his beast form, and eyed Cassian and the sword still at attention in his hand.

Don’t mind Bryaxis. He doesn’t bite, unless you do first.

Praying that the witch had told him the truth yesterday, he dropped it, raising his arms placatingly. “I, uh, I don’t want a fight,” he said. 

Bryaxis prowled closer, his breath smelling like a rotten carcass. When was the last time the woman cleaned his teeth? Did he even allow her to clean his teeth? 

Bryaxis huffed in Cassian’s face, and heat prickled at his ears. But then Bryaxis stepped back and sat back on his haunches, letting out a small groan. Within a few seconds he shifted back into a cat, weaving through Cassian’s legs and purring once more.

It didn’t set him at ease. His heart still hammered in his chest. Now he knew what had left Kallon in such a state only a few days ago.

It was safe to say that he had no intention of getting on Bryaxis’ bad side anytime soon.

“So,” he said. “Not a cat.”

The witch hummed anxiously, her eyes on the treeline. He took a deep breath as his heart settled, then he dared to approach her in the doorway.

“Will he remember?” Cassian asked, as she watched Tomas disappear.

“No,” she said, her voice distant. “He’ll forget almost everything as soon as he’s about a mile out.”

“Bryaxis took a long time to step in,” he commented. It was a question, of sorts, of why the witch had the cat wait.

She merely sighed. “I knew him once. I wanted to see if he’d changed. Apparently, he hasn’t.”

If it was even possible, Cassian hated Tomas even more—for crimes that he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d committed yet. Something about this woman had him coming to her defense, even though he was the last person who should.

He’d insulted her, and she probably wanted nothing to do with him. Even still, he wasn’t going to leave her with the likes of Tomas, Bryaxis or no.

She was rattled, that much was clear. As much as the rest of her was an unrelenting fortress, it was her eyes that gave her away—wide as they continued to watch the spot that Tomas disappeared through, not an ounce of silver anger to be found.

He needed to get her mind off it, off him.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said softly, laying a hand on her wrist. “Let’s go inside. He’s not coming back.”

It was instant, the way everything shifted. That nervousness shifted to indignation. Fear to bitterness. 

Cassian loved storms. As a boy he’d stay up listening to them rattling the windows, streaks of lightning spreading across the sky. Something about them soothed him while scaring others, and he felt safe listening to the long rolls of thunder.

And she was one, staring him down with pure electricity. She could strike him down with one single blow if she wanted.

Silver returned. There she was.

“I don’t recall extending you an invitation.” Yesterday, her words hadn’t been so distant. Short and snarky, yes, but there had been an undertone of sly amusement before he’d well and truly messed everything up. “I thought I told you to leave yesterday.”

“You did.” 

“Then why are you here?” she asked.

Cassian still didn’t know exactly what he’d say once he got here, and convinced her to listen to him. But he needed to say something.

He thought back to Tomas leaving, and the comment she made when he did.

“You said you wanted to see if Tomas had changed,” Cassian began. “So? Do you think a man can change?”

“What are you getting at, Sir Cassian?”

“It’s just Cassian.”

She let out a small huff, and asked again, “What do you want, Cassian?”

“I came to apologize,” he said. He could feel her watching, studying him with those pale blue eyes that he wanted more than a mere glimpse of. “How I spoke to you was out of line, and I’m ashamed of it. I’m sorry.”

“Anything else?” she asked. “You came all the way out here just to apologize?”

“Nothing else,” he said. “I am truly sorry.”

Her lips set into a line as she thought. The seconds ticked by, and he had the suspicion that she would tell him to leave again. Would once again call him unworthy.

But then, she did the last thing he expected. The set of her shoulders relaxed, and she gave him the tiniest dip of her chin in acceptance.

“I respect a man who can admit his mistakes.” 

She took in a breath, as if she were considering saying something else, but then she let it go. “Come inside. You’re helping me today.”

And that was that. Cassian spent the rest of the morning doing as the witch instructed, chopping and scraping and grounding until his hands were sore. He found that he didn’t mind, that it was nice to put his sword down for a little while. 

While they were cleaning up, Cassian couldn’t help but wonder. He asked the question before he could think better of it.

“What does this matter to you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Why do you care who the princess marries?”

“You’re moving into dangerous territory,” she said. “Remember what happened yesterday?”

“Answer it anyway,” he said, “You know her, don’t you?”

“This is how you wish to win me over?”

“Not really, I was just curious.”

For a while, he didn’t think she’d answer. 

She handed him some mushrooms from the other side of the clearing, asking if he knew how to cook. He sighed and brought down a pan from the rack he ran into the day before, assuming the conversation was over.

The mushrooms and a few other vegetables spit and popped in the iron pan, and the witch was happy to watch as he cooked for both of them.

While his back was turned, she said, “I do know her. We grew up together.”

That hadn’t been what he was expecting her to say. He didn’t know why he imagined her growing up solely in these woods, outcast from society. Ignorance, maybe.

“You grew up in the castle?”

“You could say that.”

The answer roused a much longer list of questions, ones he didn’t think she’d be willing to answer.

Who are you, that you know the princess so closely? Why distance yourself out here? Just…why?

“Who are you?” he asked. He moved the now finished vegetables to the side, approaching her at the table. 

“No one you would know,” she said.

She loved to evade his questions, he realized. Or, possibly, there was something about opening up to him that absolutely terrified her.

“Can I look at your face?” he asked.

She didn’t seem to like the idea of that, letting out a huff and leaning back in her chair. “I think you’ve seen enough, haven’t you?”

“I don’t think I have,” he said. 

She didn’t make a sound. 

“If you’re no one that I know, it shouldn’t matter, right?”

She didn’t outright deny him. Instead, she seemed to ponder over what he said, and she stood and took hesitant steps forward until she was right in front of him.

“You can’t tell any of the others what you see,” she insisted.

He felt it in the air, how vulnerable she was allowing herself to be. He’d make sure he never gave her a reason to regret it.

“I won’t. I swear it, on my honor.”

She inhaled sharply, then gave him the slightest nod in permission.

He took the edges of her hood in his hands. Even before he brought it down, he could almost see what was underneath. But when it was down fully…

He couldn’t say a word. Not when the angles of her face were so striking, when her beauty was so absolutely devastating that Cassian thought he might crumble.

Just as he suspected, perfect, golden brown hair framed her face, and her eyes were the most enchanting shade of blue-gray. She was young, perhaps a year or two less than his twenty four. And as embarrassing as it was to admit, Cassian had a purely male reaction.

He simply couldn’t speak, unless the word was one syllable and absolutely meaningless. So he didn’t.

This woman would be his undoing. He couldn’t come back again, because who knew what strings they would pull if he did. Whose bed they might end up in, what bridges they couldn’t uncross.

No. It had to end today. As much as he hated it, it had to end today. The witch had her life, and he had his. 

He resisted the urge to reach for her, instead barely managing to keep the fabric of her cloak between his fingers.

“See? Nothing to look at,” she said, being the first to break away.

Cassian disagreed.

***

In the late afternoon he found her on the edge of the fenceline, a book in her hand while making a practiced motion with her arm.

She was speaking softly, repeating the same phrase over and over, and he could see the soft glimmer of her magic taking hold on the perimeter of the property.

Her magic—he didn’t have words to describe it. It held a silver shimmer, and when it concentrated it almost looked like silver fire.

She was warding, he realized. He didn’t know why he expected something else.

“You have defensive magic,” he said.

She paused in her incantation, and the silver fire faded in small wisps. “That surprises you?”

“If I’m speaking honestly, yes,” he said. “Witches don’t have the best reputation.”

Thankfully, she didn’t get upset by it. She merely asked him another question.

“Yet you came to my aid. Why?”

Her eyes met his, the setting sun making her hair look like molten gold. “Because I don’t know the whole story.” 

He added, “And I want to know it.”

She stood there like a queen, watching him with proud eyes and a stance that he’d seen time and time again with his fellow warriors.

He had to admit, she was striking. He’d seen a lot of beautiful women, but she surpassed mere beauty. She was everything strong and fierce and commanding, and he couldn’t for the life of him explain why he was so drawn to it.

She must have seen something true in his face, because her next words were, “Come.” 

Cassian made his way over until he was standing at her side. He stood close enough so that he could see the drawings in the book over her shoulder. Now that he was next to her, now that she let him closer, her voice turned softer. Not by much, but enough that he could tell that she was trying to connect with him in her own way, by sharing something precious to her.

“So little of what I do revolves around curses and jinxes. Most of what I do is this, and healing,” she explained.

“Do you ever perform those?” he asked.

“Would it make you think differently if I said yes?”

“I think it depends.”

She returned her attention to the book, not looking at him as she said, “I only sell those if it’s necessary.”

Cassian didn’t know what to do with that. All he had were the stories—of good men being cursed with misfortune, with no discernible cure in sight.

She went silent next to him, as if she was expecting the worst. 

Maybe she had a good reason. Maybe she deserved the benefit of the doubt. He’d assumed poorly yesterday, and that had blown up in his face, making him say things he regretted.

Today was a new day. He could choose not to believe the worst in her, and maybe she might do the same.

So he said, “Will you show me what you’re doing?”

The witch let out a soft breath, as if his lack of condemnation meant something to her. She held up the book a little closer so he could see.

“I need to draw the rune with my magic, and say the incantation,” she explained. “The drawings here are for practice. They don’t do anything.”

He looked over her shoulder, having to stop himself from reaching over and tracing her immaculate drawings with his finger.

As he pressed up against her, he resisted the urge to settle his hand on her waist. That would be entirely inappropriate. Her breath hitched as his chest brushed against her, a sound so lovely that it was pure music to his ears.

He cleared his throat. “So, you draw it in the air? And it just works?”

She chuckled. “Something like that.”

She pointed to one of the runes on the page she had open. “This one makes a shield. It’s strong enough to discourage unwanted attention from the men that show up on my doorstep.”

“I was able to walk in.”

She said without pausing, “Your attention was not unwanted.”

She could have locked him out without a second thought, after their fight yesterday. Yet she let him come back inside and apologize.

His mouth parted, then closed, but she continued on. “It’s not impenetrable, though. If any do get past it, that’s what Bryaxis is for.”

Like with Tomas.

“You’re trusting me with all of this?” was the only thing he could ask. A lesser man could sell out this information, leaving her for dead.

“I am,” she said. “Because I do think that under all that arrogance, and bravado, there is a good man. One that I don’t think would betray my confidence.” 

She turned, so that her chest was almost touching his.

Almost.

“Am I wrong?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t do that.” 

“I know,” she said simply.

Cassian shook his head. “I just don’t understand. You’re giving me the benefit of the doubt, when I have done nothing to deserve it.”

Her eyes softened. “You did the same for me,” she countered. “You put down your sword yesterday, and today, when most other knights wouldn’t hesitate to attack. That means something.” 

“That should be common courtesy.”

She shrugged. “It isn’t. It’s why I let you inside, and why I allowed you back today.”

“Your bar is exceptionally low.”

Her lips curved upwards. “Perhaps.”

She brushed a strand of her hair behind her delicate ear, and Cassian tracked the entire movement, not able to look away. “I’m sorry, too,” she said.

“For what?”

“For saying that I think you’re unworthy. I was angry, but I shouldn’t have said what I did. I believe you may be the most worthy of them all.”

Hope fluttered in his chest. “So, you’ll give me the sword?”

And just like that, it was gone—that moment of vulnerability between them dissolved. Her gaze hardened, and she turned away.

“You can’t marry her. My answer is the same.”

He remained silent.

“I know that’s why you came back. Why you…apologized to me in the first place,” she continued.

“I came back to apologize because I was wrong,” he said. “You hit a nerve, and I lashed out. But I do want to marry her.”

“You don’t know her. How can you marry a woman you don’t know?”

He didn’t have an answer to that, but he insisted, “I would be good to her.”

Her silence was a long one. “After what I’ve seen, I don’t doubt that. But my answer is no.”

She didn’t look his way again, returning to her warding. Her voice was quieter now, almost remorseful, as if she expected him to say something harsh.

He wouldn’t repeat his mistakes.

He stalked off before he could say anything he’d regret.

***

Her golden hair fell down until it tickled against his chest. She moved on top of him, naked and glistening, shaking as she took exactly what she needed from him.

The muscles of her thighs clenched around his waist as she let out a long moan, orgasming around him and slumping forward.

“Cassian,” she whispered.

He pulled her onto him, desperate to chase his own release.

“I–” he tried to say her name desperately. But it wasn’t there on his tongue, as much as he wanted it to be.

He was close. He was–

Cassian woke with a jolt, sweating as he sat up in his bed. His pulse threatened to explode in his throat, and he combed his now damp hair away from his face.

“Fuck.”

***

Before he could question what he was doing, he was saddling Ruby up yet again and making his way through the village.

Never mind that he’d sworn he wouldn’t go back. He told himself it was because there was still a chance he could change her mind. Yes. He could work with that.

The witch was tending to her garden, pulling weeds and gathering herbs into her basket when he arrived.

Her hair was pulled into a messy braid over her shoulder. He was hit with the urge to pull that braid apart, weaving her hair through his fingers as his dream came back to him in full force—the sound of her moaning on top of him, and the silver that blazed as she came around him.

Stop it.

He offered her his usual smile, and she pursed her lips in what he could tell was mock annoyance.

“You came back,” she said.

“I did.”

“My answer isn’t changing.”

“I think you’ll find I can be rather convincing.”

Play with me, he thought.

She seemed amused, if anything, and said, “I suppose we’ll see.”

They moved inside, the witch cleaning the dirt off of her hands. “You still don’t know her,” she said, pondering. “I do wonder how you intend to fix that.”

He dared to say, “And if I came to get to know you?”

She let out a huff of laughter. “Then I would say you were foolish, and to not return.” She gave him a knowing look. “But you haven’t said that, have you?”

He knew what she was truly saying. As long as they didn’t acknowledge it, she would play along. She’d let him come back.

“No,” he agreed. “I haven’t.”

But even still, her eyes glimmered. “Do try to change my mind, Sir Cassian. I’m curious to see what methods you employ.”

He almost smiled at her then, but before he could, the witch froze, looking distantly over his shoulder through the window.

He turned to see what she was looking at, but she didn’t let him.

“Don’t,” she snapped, stepping up and stopping him with a hand to his chin. It was stupid for his gut reaction to be that this was the first time she had touched him willingly. It was like he was a damn teenager all over again, desperate for any form of touch.

She was pressed fully up against his chest, her breasts pushing into him, and he blinked as he tried to pretend this was the most normal thing in the world.

Foolishly, he thought she might kiss him. But that was the lust-addled part of his brain speaking, for the witch then dragged him along and shoved him into a closet, hissing at him. 

“Do not, under any circumstances, leave this room unless I tell you to. And do not try to look.”

The door slammed in his face. He fell back into the clutter and scowled as something jammed into his arm.

She rustled around the cottage, clearly looking for something while muttering under her breath, before the cottage door opened.

There were two sets of creaking footsteps. Another feminine voice filled the room. They talked for a while, most of the conversation indiscernible, but he could pick up a word every now and then.

They were talking about a man, from what he could understand. Cassian leaned back, trying not to listen.

It didn’t work entirely. The second woman started crying, and the witch’s voice turned soothing, more so than he’d ever heard it.

“Here,” the witch said. “This will help. And if it doesn’t, you know where to find me.”

He heard the muffled sound of crying for a few more minutes, along with the occasional murmur of encouragement from the witch. Then the gentle croak of the door as the witch led the woman outside.

Once the door was closed, he heard the long, frustrated sigh that came afterwards. Then the door to the closet opened, the witch standing on the other side of it.

“You can come out.”

Cassian stumbled out of the dark closet, coughing up dust as he knocked over something wooden on the side.

The witch looked tired, her normally bright eyes dull and weary. Seeing this woman, whoever she was, had taken something from her.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“She doesn’t want anyone to know,” she said tiredly.

“She was crying. And you calmed her down.”

A muscle ticked in her jaw. 

“I know you men find this hard to believe, but I am not a monster,” she snapped at him, letting the bite leak into her tone. “Just because you all don’t have sympathy doesn’t mean I don’t, either.”

“I never thought you were,” he said honestly. After yesterday he thought they’d made some progress. But he was forced to admit that there were likely still misconceptions, on both their parts.

He didn’t know where the second half of what she said came from. But she’d been patient with him, so perhaps he could afford her the same courtesy.

“And I know it may still take some convincing, but I’m not one, either.”

He gave her a few seconds to calm down. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes while she sunk into a chair.

“No. I know you’re not,” she said, softer. “I’m sorry.”

He’d already forgiven her. 

He asked, “How did she find you here?”

“Anyone who needs me can find their way here with ease.” She waved her hand. “Magic.”

He had to admit, that made very little sense. But Cassian wasn’t a witch. He wasn’t well-versed in how their magic worked, or the intricacies of it. He was willing to learn, though.

He thought about how he’d just known where to find her, how he’d felt guided somehow. That string in his chest had brought him here, not just once, but three times.

Was that her magic? Or had it been something else? Fate, perhaps?

Cassian pushed those questions aside.

“Why does she come to you?” he asked.

The witch considered his question for a long moment before answering. “Some knights beat their wives. Take them against their will, too. Did you know that?”

That wasn’t what he was expecting her to say. He blinked.

He knew it happened. Though the knights in question never talked about it openly, for it was shameful to treat a woman like that, it did happen.

“I do.”

“You asked me yesterday if I perform curses and jinxes. I give them to the women who ask for them, and those that need them desperately. No one else.”

“And for the women who really need it, I help them escape,” she said. “Them and their children, if they need to.”

Not a soulless witch at all, he thought. He felt a lot of things then. Guilt for assuming and for his ignorance, and a newfound respect for the woman.

Her magic was beautiful. It healed and protected, which was a far cry from the stories and the warnings he had been raised on. Hell, even stepping into the clearing gave him a sense of peace that he now didn’t know how to live without.

“That’s very brave of you,” he said, his tone soft and serious.

Curiosity sparked in her gaze for the first time in this conversation. 

“What is bravery to you, Sir Cassian?” she asked.

“Just Cassian,” he said.

The corner of her mouth lifted. “Answer the question.”

Bravery was protecting those who needed it. It meant putting himself in between a beast and a child, risking himself so that others had a chance at safety.

He said as such. 

The witch gave him a small smile. “Bravery isn’t all swords and slaying beasts,” she said. “Do you understand?”

He’d never thought of any alternative. But after hearing that woman cry on the witch’s shoulder, and knowing that she was going to return to her husband…

It made him sick. He’d always known it happened, but had turned a blind eye because it simply wasn’t talked about.

Maybe there was more than one type of bravery, and more than one type of feat to be celebrated. 

What if there was more to being a hero than he thought?

For ages, he’d thought this forest was home to only monsters. But maybe not all monsters lived in the woods, and maybe not all heroes wore shining armor and lived behind palace walls.

Maybe one of those heroes was here, living among the beasts. As he looked at the witch’s face, he could see it. This woman was brave and honorable and charitable, and everything he wished to be. And she hadn’t slain a single monster in her life.

“I think I’m starting to.”

***

Her answer never changed. Not that he expected it to.

He was supposed to go rescue a princess, but this woman looked like a queen in her own right. And sometimes it was all he could do to stop himself from bowing at her feet and swearing fealty.

He found himself obsessed. There was no logical explanation for it. Cassian returned the next day, and the next, and every time the look on her face was a little less surprised. Every day, he grew a little bit less sure of his purpose. Of his destiny.

“Why do you keep coming back?” she asked. “You know my answer.”

“I don’t know.”

Because there’s something about you that keeps drawing me back. Because I can’t stay away. Because I want to know what your hair feels like between my fingers, and the way your name sounds on my tongue–

He forced himself to stop thinking about it. No. He couldn’t fall for the witch. That would be a disaster of epic proportions. He didn’t even know her name.

Never mind that he had come to love the silence of the woods, the only sound being the music of the wind darting through the trees and the babbling of the small creek across the clearing. Or that they so often fell into a gentle companionship that had Cassian staring in awe, watching her furrowed brow as she muttered spells and put together her potions.

He was merely…fascinated. And she was fascinated with him, too. That was all it was. She’d forget all about him once he fulfilled his quest, and then he’d go back, the princess in hand, and…

That unsettling feeling sunk in his stomach again. He’d never forget her. He didn’t know if he ever could.

“Are you staying for dinner?” she asked.

Her question broke him out of the cycle of his thoughts. She’d come inside from the garden carrying a basket of vegetables. He nodded, and she moved to go place the basket on the counter.

When she walked by him, though, he grabbed onto her wrist, forcing her to stop. 

“Tell me your name?” he begged.

Her gaze fell to where he held her wrist, then her gaze softened as she returned it back to his face. “My name is Nes.”

“Nes,” he said, sounding it out.

Somehow, it was perfect.

***

They stopped talking about the princess entirely. 

Cassian helped in the garden, or wherever she instructed him to. He learned that she loved music, and loved to dance when she was able. He wanted to bring her to the great hall someday to dance with her, although he didn’t say that, because he knew she would shut him out afterwards.

And she learned with great joy that he knew how to cook. She’d watch from the table, smiling softly as she pretended she focused on her notebook, but they both knew the reality of which they would not speak of.

She answered his questions. He answered hers. Slowly she opened up to him, and they both said nothing about the afternoons when she accidentally fell asleep on his shoulder while he read her books that were dirtier than he could imagine.

She listened as he told stories of him and his brothers growing up, and she smiled fondly as she spoke of her and her sisters. They had an interesting relationship, from what he could tell. She always avoided telling him any details about them, never even mentioning their names, which he found slightly odd.

She stopped asking why he was there, because internally they both knew that the answer had changed. So she didn’t ask, and he didn’t admit to anything. 

Knights came by every so often. She always shoved him in the cottage when they did, and he watched from the corner of the window as she wrapped her blue cloak around herself.

Most tried to attack on sight. Once Bryaxis shifted, only a few of them ever continued to hold up their sword. Oftentimes they went running, just as Tomas did.

Tomas was the only one that had rattled her, it seemed. He didn’t push, but she seemed grateful every time he asked if she was alright when she came back inside.

Stragglers came by sometimes, too. People who required her healing services, or a special potion or spell. Once she was drawn back to the city to help with a woman giving labor, and Cassian found himself back at the palace for the rest of the afternoon with no idea what to do with himself.

Today, Nes had him collecting larger stones from the edges of her clearing to place in her garden bed. He cupped water from the stream when he was finished, letting it wash away the sweat on his face, before heading inside.

Nes was struggling to reach a plate at the top of the cabinet.

“This damned…dish,” she muttered to herself, on the very tips of her toes, looking like she was about to fall over.

“Here, I’ll–”

He leaned into her space to grab it for her, his arms reaching high up. He pressed against the back of her body, and he felt every single curve up against his chest.

She seemed to realize the position they were in at the same time he did, slowly turning to face him.

She didn’t push him away. Instead her lips parted, barely an inch, and her hands tightened on the edge of the counter behind her.

Nes didn’t move as he pressed in closer, only a few inches away from her. He lifted her chin with his fingers.

There wasn’t a sound. In the pure serenity of the cottage, there wasn’t a single sound, save for the soft exhale from Nes as Cassian leaned even closer, and the slight rustle as the wind tapped on her glass windows.

Cassian didn’t know who closed the rest of the distance first. But before he could question what he was doing, his lips were on hers, soft and tentative as he explored. He gave in to his fantasy, bringing her golden hair between the pads of his fingers and inhaling her scent.

Honeysuckle. Loveliest when it bloomed in the secrets of the dark, sweet in its own private paradise. Somehow she bloomed out here, in a place with no light. Somehow she made it her own, made this dark corner of the world a little more lovely.

He shouldn’t be doing this. But that first brush of her lips had him deciding that he simply didn’t care. 

He didn’t care.

Whatever consequences came of this, he’d face them with honor. He couldn’t resist it anymore, this growing attraction that had turned to full blown lust and possibly even more.

Her fingers curled on the leather on top of his shoulders. He swallowed her gasp with his lips, pushing her open even further with his tongue, desperate to taste more.

Nothing mattered, if it meant he couldn’t have her at least once. Even if once was all they had. He’d selfishly let himself have a taste before their paths no longer had a reason to cross.

His hand cupped her breast, perfect and full in his palm. He pulled her up against him, letting her feel the growing desire he had for her, and her mouth parted as she let out a moan.

It was music to his ears. A symphony.

“I want you. Now, sweetheart.”

“I want–” she said, in the second between kisses, pulling him to her with anything her hands could grip. “Cassian.”

“Nes.”

She pressed her hips into him as he kissed down her neck, guiding her head back from where he held her hair with his other hand.

He brought that delicate skin of her throat between his teeth, nipping slightly, but not enough to bruise. She shuddered, exposing herself to him even further as he made his way down to her chest.

He was struck with it then. A taste never would have been enough. He would have found himself on the precipice here, time and time again, caught in a web he’d never be able to escape.

He wasn’t certain he’d ever want to escape.

“I’m taking this off,” he said. His hands circled around to the back of her gown, meaning to undo the laces. 

That was her line drawn in the sand.

Nes jolted, gasping as she broke apart from him and latching onto his wrists with her hands, seemingly remembering who they were and why, exactly, this was a bad idea.

“Wait.” Her hands tightened around his wrists. “Stop.”

He did instantly, pulling back to check on her. Her entire face was flushed, lips glistening. Her eyes were wide.

“Nes?” he asked, softer.

“I-” 

She didn’t have to tell him her heart was hammering. He could sense it, convincing himself he could feel it through her palms.

“Have you done this before?” He had to ask. Given that she didn’t invite anyone in here, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that she hadn’t.

But she scowled, thankfully taking away that wide-eyed look, and said, “Of course I have.”

“Ok. Still, we don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry that I took liberties.”

He didn’t move a muscle as she leaned back. He monitored her every movement and facial expression, but she’d gone nearly unreadable.

Her hands still held his own with a death grip. With a blink she released them, in turn placing her shaking hands on his chest. 

“It’s getting dark,” the witch said. “You should go.”

It wasn’t getting dark. He’d stayed much longer only two days ago, only going back when the sun dipped behind the line of trees surrounding the clearing.

He didn’t want to go. 

“I should?” he asked. 

“Yes.”

He brought his hands down to her, stroking them softly. Nes tensed and moved back, and he immediately regretted it—doing something that made her uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s fine. You did nothing wrong. I did want it.”

She still couldn’t look at him.

“Nes,” he said, watching the shudder go through her from him saying her name. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Right,” she said, her voice sounding like an echo. “Tomorrow.”

***

When Cassian arrived the next morning, the witch was waiting for him.

He’d barely slept the night before, tossing and turning as he thought about their kiss. The way she felt in his arms. How she said his name.

How she stepped away.

The gold of her hair once again made its way into his dreams, and he found himself being awoken by the sound of her name falling from his lips.

Nes.

Something was different today. It was quiet this morning. The chattering was merely a whisper as he left the palace. No humming filled the clearing when he arrived, and the birds didn’t chitter in the way they normally did.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say there wasn’t a soul to be found. But Nes was here, waiting for him. He knew that before he even walked inside.

He ducked his head under the doorframe to find her curled up in a chair by the window, her gaze set on the floor.

“Hi,” he said, offering an awkward smile in an attempt to break the silence.

Nes remained silent, keeping her eyes cast down, bringing her blanket tighter around her.

That uneasy feeling returned. Something was definitely wrong, he could tell. Cassian didn’t think he messed up too badly last night. She’d said she wanted it as he left. He shifted his weight to his other foot as nerves got the better of him.

“About last night—”

“The sword is on the table,” she cut in, not letting him finish. “You can take it.”

A glance confirmed her words. A large broadsword neatly sat on the table, gleaming in a way natural silver didn’t. He opened his mouth to protest, but his throat had gone dry. He couldn’t speak.

This was supposed to be what he wanted. Wasn’t it? It was why he told himself he was coming back every day, even if he knew it was a lie.

“You wanted to be worthy of a princess? Well, there’s the sword. I’ve deemed you worthy.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Silence fell. Then he said, “I don’t understand. Are we not going to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

He took a step forward. “Really?” he asked, with a soft calm. 

Nes glared at him. “I thought this was what you wanted. What other reason could you have for being here?”

Cassian stared at her incredulously. “You know that I’ve been coming here because–”

“No,” she said, cutting him off. “Don’t. I told you not to do that.”

What had she said that one time? That he would be foolish if she was the person he was coming to see. She had told him. And he’d stupidly gotten attached anyway. Tears threatened to burn in his eyes, and as he stared at the sword, he couldn’t help but wonder.

Didn’t she know? Didn’t she know how she now haunted his every thought, his every dream?

Her voice went softer, but it was still firm. “Take the sword, Cassian. Present it to the princess. You’ll have everything you’ve always wanted. You’ll have fulfilled your destiny.”

It felt wrong, leaving her. But he met her unflinching eyes one last time. Nothing softened in them. Nothing gave him any indication that she would change her mind.

“This is what you want?”

“I want you to be happy.” She swallowed, and looked away. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, Sir Cassian. Go and find it.”

“Cassian,” he said. “It’s just Cassian.”

“Right,” she said. But even as she said it, he knew. His name would never fall from her mouth again. Once he left through that door, she’d never have a reason to say it.

He didn’t want to walk through that door.

“It has been an honor, my lady,” he said quietly, before taking the sword she offered and tearing his eyes from her for the last time.

Cassian walked through the door.

[lieutenantfloyd]

Rainbow Cereal and Morning Confessions - Cyclone x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Over breakfast, you mention something that you noticed during the previous night, only for Beau to confess something that's been weighing heavily on his mind.

Warnings: Domestic fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of kids/pregnancy, Beau had a bad childhood and is bad with emotions but he's secretly a hopeless romantic.

Authors Note: This was originally a very different fic written with my OC in mind, but I loved this idea so much I couldn't help but rewrite it to post here! Based on some headcanons I posted in January.

Read on AO3

“You talk in your sleep.” You say between mouthfuls of colorful fruity cereal. 

He eyes you sharply over his newspaper and takes a long swig off steaming black coffee. 

“No, I don’t.” He answers dryly. 

You twirl your spoon and give him a toothy grin. “Yeah, you do.” 

He sends you an eye roll before pushing his plate away and returning to his daily reading. 

Several minutes pass by without another word, but the silence between you is anything but awkward—It somehow never is.

 “What exactly do I talk about?” He asks in a low voice, and it takes all you have not to jump up and kiss him then and there. 

“National secrets, mostly.” You deadpan before quickly shoveling another spoonful of cereal into your mouth in a poorly planned attempt to stop your laughter. 

His eyebrows fly up so fast that you nearly choke. He leans across the table, using thick fingers to wipe away a stray drop of milk that escaped your mouth before leaning back into his previous position and waiting on you to regain your composure. 

“For real though, It was mostly gibberish with the occasional mention of pancakes.” You say nodding towards his plate. 

He sends you an annoyingly soft smile as a bit of color returns to his face. 

Your mind runs over his sleeping mumbles of the previous night, and you make a connection between his somniloquy and the handwritten notes you’d seen on his desk. 

“You never told me you speak French.” 

His handsome features shift into a look you’ve never seen before, and you feel his eyes scrutinize yours as if he’s deeply considering something. 

“Cajun French. It’s what my parents spoke.”

You nod softly, feeling suddenly awkward as you pick up on the unusual tone laced through his deep voice.

In the years between your first meeting and now, you have asked countless people—all of various rank and branch, along with a few civilians—about him. Your inquiries had always turned up the same. Nothing. No wife, no kids, and no known background prior to joining the Navy. He didn’t even have any social media to stalk. Aside from these intimate moments only you share with him, he’s a complete mystery. Practically a ghost.

“Were you and your parents close?” You ask softly.

“No.” He says. The finality feels sharp, but his tone falls flat. His voice feels nearly foreign to your ears.

His eyes fall to yours again, only this time they’re a confusing mix of vulnerable and guarded. You know instantly that something happened—something bad—and you choose not to push the topic any further.

You look down at your bowl, stirring the now soggy cereal around the colorful milk. He always chastises you for eating it, but it’s no different than how you nag at him for surviving off of coffee and pent up anger—a simmering rage so intertwined with him that you’ve often wondered where it stems from. Still seated in front of you, he’s staring off into space. You’re too afraid to ask yourself that question now.

“Do you want kids?” He asks suddenly. “With me, I mean.”

You nearly let out a playful—who else do you think I’d let knock me up?—but he still has that far-away look on his face, so you pause. Swallowing air as you gather your thoughts. 

“I… don’t think I’ve ever really thought about it.” You answer honestly, and he nods. 

“I hadn’t thought about it either. Not until you.” He confesses. 

“Having you in my life will always be the most important thing, but I realized that I’d probably like to be a dad.” He says. “And after I realized that, I also realized that I didn’t have anything from my own childhood to pass on to them.” 

You nod, rendered breathless by the conversation. God, he’d be a good dad. 

“Both my parents were Cajun. I remember that my mother was devoutly Catholic, and she raised me to speak French in a time when that just wasn’t what you did.” He pauses, only to resume after taking a deep breath. “I know now that they were complicated people. I choose not to think about them anymore.” He says in a voice so soft you nearly wonder if your mind made it up.

You nod along, giving him space to speak whatever is on his mind. You don’t let yourself question, aloud or otherwise, why he doesn’t speak of his father. 

“That was a long time ago—and a lot of the language is lost on me now—but I wanted something…positive…to pass on if I ever had a kid.” He confesses. 

You give him a soft smile before taking his hand across the table. 

“You’ve clearly thought a lot about this, and while I haven’t yet, I will.” You say. 

The conversation has taken such an intense turn that you felt shaky as you rose from your seat to clean up the breakfast dishes. 

You fall into a lull of comfortable normalcy, though the bits of his history he revealed hang heavy in your mind as you load the dishwasher. 

“Is there anything in particular you want to pass on? Anything I should learn…just in case?” You ask gently as you wipe your hands dry. It was a simple, genuine question, though by the gentle but shocked look on his face, you might as well have gotten on one knee and asked for his hand in marriage.

“I’ll think about it,” he says with the slightest teasing tone. 

You smile, happy to know nothing is weighing too heavy on him, and things are back to business as usual once again. 

“There’s a lot I want to tell you and more that I should, but..”

“Hey,” you say calmly “there’s no pressure. If you want to wax poetic about your entire life story or you never want to speak about it again, it’s fine. Childhoods are weird, and what matters is who you become after it all.”

He settles back into the chair, staring at you with nothing my pure adoration. Still, something has his shoulders tense, and something tells you that it’s the same thing that has words lying on the tip of your tongue.

“You’re a good man, Beau. And you’d make an amazing father.”

He rises to his seat, folds his newspaper—left over right, top over bottom, always—and drops it on the table. Cherry oak. Pretty, solid wood.

He crosses the short distance between you and kisses your head like the good man and partner he is. Without another word, he drops back into his seat and assumes his previous position, though the tension he always holds in his shoulders gives way just a bit. Sunlight has barely begun to stream in through the large kitchen windows, casting the table you are both seated at in a fresh, golden glow. A comfortable silence stretches between you as you finish the last few bites of your breakfast. He’s leaning back in his chair, legs crossed, though his left hand lays casually against the table. As the minutes pass, your hand absentmindedly brushes against his. He glances up at you over his paper, his eyes filled with warmth as a hint of a smile plays on his lips. 

“I know you hate getting up this early, but I like being able to spend my mornings with you,” he says as he encircles your hand with his own, brushing the pads of his fingertips over your knuckles.  You look up at him, your swelling as his words sink in. Aside from the daily ‘I love you’ s, Beau isn’t someone who ever verbalizes his emotions. Though he has never once held back from showing you just how much he cares. 

“Me too,” you reply. Your hand squeezes his gently, a small gesture that confirms you recognize the gravity of his admission.

The smell of his black coffee lingers in the air as you hear the world outside begin to wake up. You sit happily in each other's presence for several moments longer. The world outside the window feels far away and almost meaningless compared to the cozy safe haven of his kitchen.

Suddenly, you feel his shift and reluctantly pull his hand from yours. You glance briefly at the clock, laughing as the numbers confirm that he has only minutes before he needs to leave for work. He rinses his mug and sets it on a tea towel, leaving it to dry. He swipes his bag off the counter and leans in for a full, proper kiss this time. You smile up at him as he pulls away, knowing that no matter what his day ahead holds, the moments you shared together over breakfast will tide him over until he can come back home to you.

taglist: @marchingicenotes7 @bayisdying @princessofglitterland @bella-law @callsignaries @oliviah-25 @luckyladycreator2 @shakira-sasha @xoxabs88xox @alexxavicry @madamemelancholysstuff @paola-carter @barbiewritesstuff @dozcan123 @withakindheartx @nyx2021 @teti-menchon0604 @kmc1989

[lilbittymonster]

Day 18: Hackneyed

Read on AO3

Aymeric was on the couch reading when Kitali finally emerged from the bath, still squeezing water from her hair.

“You have a letter,” he said, nodding to the sealed envelope on the side table. “It arrived a couple days ago.”

“Who’s it from?”

“No idea. Some secret admirer, by the looks of it.”

She scoffed, and then made a noise of disgust when she held up the letter. Aymeric chuckled, knowing how the address of “Dearest Warrior of Light” with a dramatic heart beneath would be received. The snap of the wax seal being broken was followed by the sound of papers shuffling against each other.

“Four pages,” she said. “Front and back.”

He looked up from his book to see her holding the letter as though it were a rotten head of chyshal greens. The curl of her lip did not lessen as she read first one page, then the back, then the second, before at last she rolled her eyes and marched across the room to throw the whole bundle into the fire with a shower of sparks.

Aymeric nearly choked on the mouthful of tea he had just taken.

“That bad, was it?”

She settled onto the couch, rubbing a hand across her eyes as she laid her head in his lap.

“Yeah, that bad. I don’t know why people keep sending me shit like that, it’s not as if it’s a secret we’re married.”

“What, you don’t think you can do better than a bastard from only a minor house?” he joked. “I’m sure you could if you tried.”

“But I don’t want to do better than a bastard from a minor house,” she said, looking up at him. “I want you.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest, as it always did when she looked at him like that. He leaned into the hand that she brought up to his cheek and pressed a lingering kiss to her palm.

“And what, pray tell, did your mystery admirer say to you to earn such a fiery rejection?”

Kitali sighed. “So. He started with an actual introduction.”

“Already better than the last one,” Aymeric remarked.

“Better than the last one,” she agreed. “Then the first page or so was spent extolling my many virtues-” she rolled her eyes mockingly- “half of which were exaggerated and the other half were entirely fabricated. Then he started making all sorts of assumptions about how I must surely be a ‘woman of the world’, whatever that’s supposed to mean, and how I would surely be in want of a partner who could match my sense of adventure. And then he suggested that I run away with him, at which point I threw it in the fire. I have no interest in reading what he thinks would happen on such an affair.”

“Hm. Not very original, I must say,” Aymeric hummed. “I think I have…...no less than three books on that shelf alone that follow the very same plot.”

Kitali chuckled.

“The whole thing read like a bad soup of every two gil romance book I’ve ever read. It was so-” She stopped, motioning searchingly in front of her. “What’s the word. There has to be a word.”

“Hackneyed,” Aymeric supplied. “Cliched. Trite.”

“Sure, one of those.” She sighed again. “I leave for a tenday and this is what I come home to.”

[bloggingboutburgers]

I was reading through some of the recent asks on this blog, and I was reminded of this time a couple months back when I was explaining to my brother (who knows jack shit about ace stuff) how I feel like I’ve learned how to put myself in an allo perspective out of necessity, and how it stings when he acts like sex appeal is the singular reason someone might enjoy something.

He seemed a bit offended. He told me that he believes that, as an allosexual, he could never understand an ace perspective, just as he could never understand a female or transgender perspective, and thus he felt it would be disrespectful to assume otherwise.

And like… sure. You don’t know what it’s like being aroace in a world that constantly conflates and centers romantic and sexual relationships, but is it really that hard to imagine how an ace person might feel about something? Maybe I’m just biased, but extrapolating the way you feel about people you don’t find sexually attractive to everyone doesn’t seem like a very complicated thought exercise.

I love my brother, but he can be real insensitive, especially when it comes to my asexuality. I don’t think I’d personally call him an aphobe, but he definitely has internalized aphobia that he’s doing nothing to fix.

To be honest, I think the main issue here is accepting you'll never truly understand vs assuming everyone thinks like you by default... It's not the same thing. Sure, it's fair to consider that it would be disrespectful to assume you'll ever understand such a unique life experience that you don't share... But that has nothing to do with acting like your own experience is the only one that'll ever be relevant, and that everyone shares it. So... I'm not sure I see his point.

Yeah, it's very possible, even just basic reality, that you'll never understand a life experience you don't share yourself. But that doesn't mean you can't hear out a person who tells you they live through that experience, and you can't consider said experience and be respectful of it (...tbh that's kinda what we have to do with straight people and allosexual people all the time ourselves, isn't it). If it meant that, we'd still be very much behind as a society. I'm really sorry you're going through that... Always reminds me how blessed I am that my own bros are as supportive as they are. I'll never take that for granted.

[darkmxgician]

Promises Break- Part 3

pairing: fem!reader x noah. tags: drinking, trauma/PTSD, smut, choking, praise kink

word count: 1.9k

story song: what do you want from me? 

taglist: @sorrowsofsilence @angelsdevils @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @montgomery-929496

18+ below the cut

Part 1 - Part 2

~ Reader ~

Noah closes the distance between us, he grabs me and roughly pulls me into his embrace. His hand on my throat, pushing my head up, he looks at me like he’s waiting for something. I feel frozen, I can’t fathom why I’m not pushing him away, my traitorous brain not reacting when it should. That’s when he kisses me, and I lose every ounce of my being, his mouth moulds into mine, teeth grazing my lips, the force of it knocks the breath out of me. I get lost in it, a moan slips from me, the sound foreign. I loose my grip on my dress and grab him, needing to pull him closer, needing more. I’ve been wasting away lately, the memories from my past threatening to pull me under. It was wave of grief and sadness for the child I never got to be, so strong I was doing anything and everything to keep my grip on my current self, on the present, on reality. I opened my mouth fully, letting him sweep his tongue inside, losing myself in the moment, in him. Something snaps in him at that, the kiss turns into something savage, his grip on my throat tightening, I can feel his erection pushing into my stomach. I’ve never done this before, I’ve never even kissed anyone before, and yet I don’t feel nervous, I don’t try to back away. Further proof of how lost I am, how fucked the inside of my head is. I’m letting someone I normally can’t stand touch me in a way I’ve never allowed anyone else before. The worst part is that I’m enjoying every second. 

Noah seems to need this as much as I do, he pushes me back, my knees hitting the bed and I grab onto him to stop myself from falling. His mouth leaves mine and starts trailing down my neck as he grips my ass with both hands, pulling me up and letting me wrap my legs around his waist. I moan at the feeling of him against me, circling my arms around his neck and grabbing his short hair. He climbs onto the bed and pushes me into the mattress with his body, I’m completely trapped, and I’ve never been this turned on in my life. His attack on my throat gets more aggressive, he’s biting and sucking the skin so much I know I’ll have bruises tomorrow. Small moans escape as he ravages my bare skin, his groans of pleasure sending me over the edge. His mouth starts to trail down again, his tongue flicking over my nipple bar, his hands all over me, like he can’t get enough. I gasp at the sensation, he looks up through his hair, his eyes totally black, his mouth still around my breast. I nearly climax at the sight, I’ve always found him good looking, but I hated him enough that it negated any attraction I felt. Noah always sees right through me, through every wall I’ve built to protect my sanity, my sense of self, and those around me from knowing how much I’m crumbling. He sees past every defence and relishes in letting me know that, and nothing pisses me off more. After years of hating him for seeing how fucked up I am, he’s now on top of me, his mouth trailing further town, toward the waistband of my shorts. Any comfort I felt during his assault on my mouth, my neck and my breasts washes away. “Noah” I rasp, my voice hoarse. “Yeah little one?”, usually that nickname pisses me off, but the way his voice has dropped, the way he’s focussed so entirely on my body, it triggers something in me. It’s not like I’m a complete prude, I read a lot, romance books in particular, I just haven’t found someone who makes me feel comfortable, enough to explore my sexuality. I realise, as he’s paused above my stomach, looking up at me, that I don’t actually want him to stop. “I-I’ve never..” I trail off, stuttering. How the fuck am I supposed to tell him I’m a virgin, he’ll probably laugh in my face. He moves back up my body, his hands roaming over my bare skin as he does. Until he’s leaning over me, one hand above my head pushing him up, the other tracing lines on my throat, like he’s feeling my pulse. His eyes meet mine and I could get lost in them. “Are you a virgin y/n?”, his voice was guttural. I nod, slowly. He grips my throat and kisses me so aggressively I lose the ability to breathe, to think. “Do you want me to stop?”, his eyes stay locked on mine, assessing as our breath mingles. “Please don't” I whisper, not sure why I felt so confident all of a sudden. That was his undoing, he sits up and pulls my shorts and underwear off in one quick movement, I gasp as the air hits me, every inch of my skin feeling sensitive. He pulls me by my legs so I’m half dangling off the bed, and hooks them over his broad shoulders. Before I can even adjust to the new position he unleashes himself on me, his tongue feasting on me, his teeth biting at my swollen clit. I lose myself in the pleasure. My only experience is with a tiny vibrator, and I now realise that I’ve been missing out on a lot. My moans turn into loud groans, my hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer to me as I lose all control of my limbs. My body shakes like I’m having a seizure as the pressure begins to build, stronger than I’ve ever felt it before. His grip on my hips tightens and when he pushes one of his long fingers inside me, I shatter completely.

~ Noah ~

I cannot get enough of her, she tastes better than I could have ever imagined, and her whimpering, her moans, are threatening to undo me. She was soaked before I even started. I knew she’d not dated since I met her, and could tell she was inexperienced when I kissed her. But finding out she’s a virgin, it did something to me. Completely innocent, untouched. I almost came at the first taste of her, so fucking wet. And when I put one finger inside her, I felt her entire body let go, her scream as she came undone completely only fuelled by own sadistic tendencies, made me grip her so hard I knew it would mark her. I continued to feast on her as she came down from her high. Her body shaking so much I had to keep hold of her. Slowly her breathing returned to a slow pant, she let go of my hair and tried to move. Did she think we were done? I look up at her, my mouth around her clit, her eyes are hazy with pleasure, her mouth open slightly, a shocked but sated expression on her face. I add a second finger and she groans, her back arching and head falling back into the mattress. “Good girl” I mutter against her, and I feel her clench around my fingers. Does the little virgin have a praise kink? “Such a good girl, so wet for me, you taste like my new favourite meal”, she moans, hands flying back to my hair. I smile as I continue to eat her out, my fingers moving slowly, stretching out her tight cunt. It’s like she was made for me, so fucking perfect. 

I manage to pull two more orgasms from her with mouth and my fingers. I move back onto the bed to kiss her, to show her how good she tastes. Her face is red, tears staining her cheeks, her make up running down her face. Marks are starting to form from my previous assault on her throat. I pull her mouth open with the fingers that were just inside her, she goes pliant, letting me do what I please, so fucking perfect. I spit her release into her mouth, and kiss her greedily, hungry for more. She groans and fists her hands in the fabric of my t-shirt, pulling me closer. My cock starts straining against my trousers. I pull them down, positioning myself between her legs and driving inside of her, losing control completely. I feel her hymen break, she screams and the sound is like kindling to my arousal. I pull out completely and ram back inside her, a throaty groan comes from her, the noises she’s making are as animalistic as I feel. I know I should be gentle, but she’s so soft and wet and tight. I fuck her mercilessly, my hand around her throat, my tongue in her mouth, owning her completely. I stop only to take off my clothes. The sight of her laid bare for me, legs spread, chest heaving, eyes wide with lust and fear, it sends me into a frenzy. I grab her legs and flip her so she’s on her stomach, the movement pushes all the air from her lungs and she gasps. I pull her hips up and bury myself inside her, over and over, until her screams turn hoarse and I feel her climax building. I pull her up by her hair and wrap my hand around her throat again, “are you gonna come for me y/n?”, I keep thrusting inside her at a devastating pace, “that’s it, you’re taking me so well, like you were made for me”, she comes apart at that, “good girl” I growl in her ear. I can feel her muscles contracting and it sends me over the edge, my own release coming faster than usual. We stay there for a while, her tight cunt still squeezing my cock, both of us panting as we come down.

She hisses as I pull out, gasping at the soreness between her legs. She’s pliant in my arms and I gently lie her down on her back, her eyes are swimming with curiosity and pain, she’s fighting to stay conscious. All her shields are down, I crumbled every wall and defence she’s built around herself and I relish in the sight. She reaches out and traces lines across my face, until sleep finally takes hold and her arm drops to the mattress. I pull my underwear and joggers back on and head to the bathroom in search of a towel. After cleaning myself up I return to my girl, spreading her legs again to clean her. My erection grows again at the sight of my cum mixed with her blood, the red bite marks covering the inside of her thighs. I quickly clean her up before I decide to break her entirely, and wrap her in a blanket so she can sleep. What is wrong with me? I have a severe need to both shatter and fix her. I need to claim her, own her, I need to understand her, to uncover the darkness that takes over. The only thing I know for sure is that she’s mine, whether she likes it or not.

[jujutsubaby]

after hours (part 10)

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: studying at the library is sooo fucking stressful. especially when your final is next week. gojo promises to help you study, but you guys get into other shenanigans instead... ☆ tags: modern au, babysitting au, academia au, threesome au ☆ warnings: oral sex (m! receiving and f! receiving), eating it from the back, exhibitionism, choking (on dick) ☆ a/n: HI GUYS SORRY IVE BEEN SOOO MIA work is crazy (it’s beating my ass) and life is so hectic (also beating my ass). i’ve been trying to have a hot girl summer but i assure u i’ve been nonstop thinking of one shots and new plot points for my fics and new ones too so once the seasonal depression kicks in it’s gonna be over for everyone ! ok enjoy :3 sowwee it took so long once again!! 🙏 ☆ wc: 6.7k+ 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

if there was a time in the past when you said the hong kong coffee milk tea you had been drinking did nothing to keep you awake, you sincerely take it back. your brain felt it first, halfway through sipping on the matcha oatmilk latte satoru had brought for you. and then came the uncontrollable leg shaking and the pounding in your head that could only be satiated if you continued to drink from your matcha, although now that wasn’t doing much either. 

you snuck a quick look at satoru, who was initially banally transcribing his notes onto his cheat sheet for the final, now animatedly talking through bell’s theorem to nanami and haibara and you (before you zoned out). haibara was rapid fire questioning satoru’s mini-lecture, talking a mile a minute as he tapped his pencil at an unnatural pace on the desk. you look over at nanami, who’s staring at satoru with a thousand yard, wide eyed stare, and realize you all were caffeinated beyond recovery. 

the pounding in your head got louder and louder, until it drowned out the noises satoru and haibara. water. you need water. your mouth is too dry. you make eye contact with nanami, and as if he read your mind, he wordlessly reaches into his backpack and hands you his blue hydroflask. you take a swig. and then another. and then you’re chugging the entire bottle like your life depends on it (you think it does in a way). 

the pounding in your head fades just as you empty his water bottle. your vice grip on it turns your fingers white and you try to pay attention to what satoru is lecturing about. 

“see, the thing about heisenberg’s uncertainty principle is that the more localized the momentum-space wavefunction is, the more likely the particle is found in those values, which by the way, are just fourier transforms of each other…”

what the fuck? uncertainty principle? fourier transforms? those weren’t on the final last time you checked. you quickly pull out your study guide and try to find any mentions of whatever satoru was talking about. you find bell’s theorem (wasn’t he just talking about that? how did he switch topics so fast, and so randomly for that matter?), but no mentions of heisenberg. you turn back to satoru and realize he’s just talking nonsense quantum facts from the top of his head, regardless if it was even part of the class (perhaps as a result of being too wired from the triple shot latte he’s been sipping on). 

oh, you need to stop this before everyone gets confused. “satoru, wait, is this even on the final?” if he heard you, he doesn’t let you know, as he continues on his monologue without missing a beat, now talking about quantum computing and turing tests. those aren’t even remotely related to the class you guys are studying for! “satoru! stop talking, jesus fuckin’ christ, dude!” you shake his shoulder, jolting him back to reality as he stops talking and looks over at you confused. 

“what? why? did you have a question about what i was saying?”

“yeah, what the fuck? none of that is on the final, what are you even talking about? how do you know, like, all these random physics facts from the top of your head?!” you ask incredulously. 

satoru shrugs and looks at you like you’re the weird one for questioning him. “you don’t?”

“not everyone studied applied physics in undergrad and graduated summa cum laude, gojo-sensei,” haibara quipped, still writing down some notes from satoru’s monologue in his notebook. you quickly swat his hand away from writing down any more. 

“stop writing what he just said haibara! it’s gonna confuse you when you’re actually studying for the final.” you frown, leaning over to move his notebook away from him. 

“what is it do you think we’re doing right now, y/n, if not ‘actually studying for the final’?” nanami says, emphasizing what you had just said. when was the last time he blinked? 

“none of us studying right now because we got too fuckin’ wired from the coffee. where did you guys get this battery acid anyway?” you say, taking another sip from your matcha, against your own will. 

“philz…” satoru says. 

you scoff. “philz?! and you got a triple shot there? how are you alive right now? how are all of you alive right now? why the fuck would you get coffee from philz and not riko’s like usual?!”

“i’m not feeling alive.” haibara chimes. 

“i’ve been having an out of body experience for the last thirty minutes,” nanami informs, too calmly for your liking, if you’re being honest. 

“suguru told me if he saw my face at riko’s today, he would poison me in my sleep.” satoru says, running his hands through his hair in slight frustration. his legs are restless and so are yours. 

“okay, well, it doesn’t matter now because we are never gonna feel normal again. this is our life. anyway, i think we need a break.” everyone nods their heads. “m’gonna go on a walk around the library and fill up your water bottle, nanamin. anyone wanna join?” you get up from your chair and wordlessly, satoru gets up to accompany you. 

as you two exit the study room, the change of scenery allows your eyes to adjust to reality and your brain to think of something other than physics, which unfortunately is the deal you made with satoru before walking into the study room and getting wired beyond repair. you decide that while you’re not opposed to blowing him right now, you’re not bringing it up until he does. you look over your shoulder and see satoru following silently behind you and you lead him to a corner of the library, where the water refill stations and bathrooms were. 

as you’re filling up nanami’s water bottle, satoru breaks the silence. “should we be worried about nanami and his…umm…out of body experience?”

“aww, you care about nanami, don’t you?” you coo, giving satoru a sly smile. 

“if you’re trying to insinuate that i’m in love with him, then you’re right, i am. why else would i secretly stick on post-its with penises on the back of his notebook?”

“you’re the one doing that?!” you turn your head to satoru to shake it disapprovingly and sigh. “he’s been haunted by those wretched things for weeks, satoru! he’s been thinking some girl’s been sexually harassing him!”

you watch him cackle with laughter and shoot him a dirty look. “stop laughing, satoru!” you say, but you’re a hypocrite because you’re also laughing at the situation. “promise me you’ll– shit!” the water overflows from the water bottle as you pour the excess out and seal the cap on. 

“c’mere,” satoru says, leading you somewhere deeper into the library. 

“anyway, i don’t think we need to worry about nanamin,” you say as you turn the corner and enter a narrow aisle. “i think he just needs to drink water and touch grass or talk to someone that isn’t you.”

“yeah, maybe…” satoru says, as he leads you to another random book aisle, clearly no longer paying attention to you. 

“hey, where are we? what are we doing here?” you take a look around at the books around you. greek mythologies? “why are we in the greek–”

your question is cut off by satoru’s lips crashing into yours and his arms pulling you flush against his chest. satoru leans down to your height and tightens his grip on your hips. caught off guard, it takes you a moment to register what was happening before you leaned into the kiss, deepening with opening your mouth and letting his tongue in. the kiss is urgent, hurried, clandestine – stolen in an empty library corridor in the greek mythology section, of all places. aphrodite would be delighted, you think. 

you take great pains to not moan into satoru’s mouth in the quiet of the library, but a stifled sigh sneaks out regardless. you feel satoru’s hands slide down to your ass and squeeze, as you use the hand that’s not holding the hydroflask to run your fingers through his undercut, earning a muffled groan from him. he leans down further and lifts you up slightly so that he can shove his legs between yours and move your hips on them. the friction of your clothed core meeting his knee catches you off guard as you drop the hydroflask. it clatters on the ceramic tiled floor of the library and echoes loudly across the library floor. 

shit. shit. satoru and you immediately break off the kiss the second the sound rings and you quickly scramble to grab it before it starts rolling to where people are within view. “shit, shit, shit!” you whisper frantically as you fumble to get the water bottle. your face is hot and the pounding in your head is back, begging you for more caffeine. your heart feels like it’s about to go into cardiac arrest for the same reason, but the fact that you were secretly kissing your best friend did not help. 

“jesus fuckin’ christ, why are those things so fucking loud,” satoru says, his eyes scanning the neighboring aisles to see if anyone was there. 

“why did you knee my clit?” you challenge back in a hushed whisper as you set the hydroflask down on the floor. 

“well i had this insane idea that you would like it.” satoru mumbles. you have no interest in arguing with him any further, figuring the best way to beat the pounding in your head was to grab satoru’s sweatshirt and pull him closer to you and continue. with both hands free, you’re able to kiss him and grip his hair to deepen the kiss again. 

this time, satoru slowly moves his hands down to your ass and pulls you right against his rock hard bulge of his own arousal. you sigh deeply at the contact, and buck your hips towards his erection, but missing due to the awkward angle. satoru breaks off the kiss in favor of littering your neck with soft butterfly kisses. 

“you know, i do recall someone saying they’d blow me in the library…” satoru says in between kisses. his lips feel the soft vibration of your groan and he chuckles against it. “you don’t have to, by the way, if you don’t want to. i don’t wanna–”

“what if want to?” you ask innocently, flashing your eyes at him coquettishly as you push him back and use the hair tie on your wrist to quickly tie your hair back. you slowly sink to your knees. don’t think about how hard the tiled floors are here and just focus on giving him insane head so he cums fast and you get back on your feet. you feel a bit bad thinking that, because you do really want to give him head, but also you’re a woman in your late 20s suffering from joint pain, which was embarrassing in itself. 

you push your thoughts of your knee pain on the ceramic tiles aside and start to palm his hard erection through his pants. satoru holds back a groan and throws his head back and holds your wrist and moves it to his belt. you undo it effortlessly, and pull down his pants and underwear, unveiling his well endowed erection in front of you. fuck, it’s so huge. 

your hand grips him lightly as you lick a long stripe from the base to the pink tip of his shaft. at the top, you give him a small kiss before your mouth slowly envelopes it, licking it so as to lubricate your mouth for deepthroating him. you slowly go down on him further and further, until you feel him at the back of your throat, before you start bobbing your head back and forth. satoru hisses under his breath as you full take him in and start sucking him off rhythmically. 

you feel his hand reach the back of your head and grip your ponytail, helping you control the pace to his liking. the warmth of your mouth and skillful maneuvers of your tongue are sending satoru faster to the edge than he’d like to admit, and he grits his teeth to keep himself from spilling within minutes of you starting the blowjob he’d been thinking about since you mentioned it. 

“fuuuck, just like that…” satoru hums deeply. the tip of his cock bullies the back of your thorat, causing your mouth to gag and clench on him. “damn, you love this shit don’t you? deepthroating me in the library where anyone can walk in? where anyone can see how much of a desperate slut you are?”

satoru’s dirty words turn you on more than expected, especially knowing anyone could hear him. you feel yourself getting soaked thinking about the potential chance at someone watching you. what if it was toji? wait, what? how did that thought make you even more wet? thankfully, your moans are muffled by your mouth engulfing him. satoru increases his pace, and starts to fuck your face relentlessly, chasing his high. 

just as you were choking on his member, satoru abruptly stilled his movements inside your mouth. your eyes widen, hearing muffled movements nearby and try to remove yourself from his cock, but satoru keeps your head firmly on him via the vice grip on your ponytail, which was slowly coming apart. the muted sounds slowly got quieter and quieter, until they were gone completely, at which point satoru resumed his mouth fucking. 

“i bet if i felt you right now, you’d be dripping,” satoru whispers breathily. you whine against him, knowing he’s right – your panties are completely ruined. satoru swears under his breath, and you feel his thrusts get sloppier as you feel his cock pulsating as he gets closer to his climax. you help him reach it by using a hand to lightly cup his balls, a trick you learned from an ex-boyfriend of yours, which turns out to be successful. 

“f-fuck, gonna cum in your mouth, yeah?” satoru asks, and you moan in response, vibrating against him. you feel hot ropes of cum shoot down your throat. for the second time today, you don’t let a single drop go to waste. you swallow his cum clean, and lick one last stripe across his cock, as you let him go with a lewd pop. 

 you wipe off some spit on the back of your hand as satoru makes himself decent while catching his breath as fast as possible, leaning against the bookshelf to do so. satoru reaches out his hands lazily to help you get up from your knees on the hard floors, which crack while you stand up. he pulls you closer to his chest as he leans on the library bookshelf, and leans forward to kiss your mouth. you kiss him back briefly before pulling away and checking your phone. “shit, we should go, people might notice that we’ve been gone for way too long…”

satoru rolls his eyes as you grab his hand and lead him down the various aisles he took you through, dropping it only when you caught sight of some students nearby. you cross your arms as you think of how you blew two guys in one day which is not only a new feat for you, but also, kind of annoying that you didn’t get anything in return both times, even though you understood why toji couldn’t. 

“somethin’ troubling you, baby girl?” satoru asks, nudging your shoulder.  

“oh, what? no, why would you ask that?”

“because you blew me like a minute ago and you’re completely silent. and your arms are crossed and your eyebrows are doing that thing they do when you’re annoy–”

“oh my god, okay i get it!” you say with exasperation, not wanting to hear him characterize you this accurately. “and yeah, whatever, i guess i’m a little miffed, but it’s not a big deal.”

“did i do something wrong?” you hear a hint of genuine concern in his voice. 

“oh my god, satoru, no, of course not…it’s just…” you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. all of a sudden, you’re feeling shy and meeting satoru’s eyes is a pain so you keep them downcast and cross your arms to your chest even tighter in an effort to self-sooth. 

“if it’s embarrassing then i’m sorry, you have to tell me or else i’m gonna be so fuckin’ annoying about it.”

“you’re already so fuckin’ annoying about everything, first of all. and fine, if you must know…” you find the courage to turn your head up to him. “i blew like two guys today including you and do you know how many times i got the favor returned? zero. ZERO!” you felt petulant voicing your concerns this wantonly. 

just as you expected, a shit eating grin forms on satoru’s face. “well, why didn’t you say so? you know i’d be more than happy to help that disparity for you.” hearing him tease you about eating you out has you more hot and bothered than you’d like to admit. 

“promise?”

“promise. once we get the fuck outta here, my mouth is yours, baby girl.” 

“don’t call me that!” you say, grinning as you both approach the table where you left shoko to study on her own. you are surprised to see utahime sitting next to her whispering something in her ear, and shoko shaking in silent laughter. 

“oh my god, this bitch…” you say under your breath as you stride towards her desk. so rich of her to tell everyone to shut up when utahime is allowed to say all the jokes in the world. utahime notices you first and her face brightens as she gives you an enthusiastic wave, only for her face to immediately sour when she spots satoru right behind you. 

“you can at least pretend you’re excited to see me ‘hime,” teases satoru. 

“do not call me that.” utahime seethes before turning her attention back to shoko and you. 

“what? you can giggle all you want with utahime but not with us?” you tease shoko. 

she rolls her eyes. “i’m on my break, dumbass, look!” she turns on her laptop to show you the 15 minute break timer that has long since elapsed. you look over at utahime and ask her what brings her back to thel library. 

“ugh, literally only because shoko is here. otherwise, i’d never step foot back at this place after graduating.” utahime frowns. you remember how you and shoko attended utahime’s graduation ceremony for education master’s last year, which was mostly you and shoko trying to figure out discreetly if utahime was into girls. 

the four of you hover around the table and speak in whispered voices and muted laughter, slowly losing track of the volume of your voices. eventually, at some point, everyone is speaking in normal talking voices in the quiet library, all while being blissfully unaware of the dirty pointed looks being given to you guys. 

“gojo, what the fuck kinda coffee did you get me, also? me and utahime have been sharing it and we are forreal tweaking off of this,” shoko complains, shaking the empty coffee cup. 

“it was philz.” you answer for satoru. utahime and shoko’s eyes widen in disbelief. 

“are you trying to murder us?! why didn’t you go to riko’s?!” utahime yells, in a higher than normal level voice. 

“i literally cannot have this conversation again,” satoru says, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. 

your conversation is interrupted by a short stocky man, who you infer to be a library monitor wearing an official looking university sweater vest. “you folks are way too loud. we’ve gotten multiple complaints about the noise levels on this floor. this is your first and last warning, or you all are out.” he says sternly. 

“wait, sorr–”

“no excuses, ma’am. just please be silent from now onwards, or there will be consequences.” he interrupts you curtly before walking away from the table. the four of you don’t speak, until satoru breaks the silence.

“why’s his voice like that? so nasally?” he said the last part as nasally as possible, mocking the library monitor.  

“you’re so mean!” utahime says as you cover your mouth so she doesn’t see you wordlessly laughing at the admittedly mean imitation. 

“who’s so mean?” you turn to see haibara returning to the table with nanami behind him. 

“obviously it’s gojo.” nanami says without missing a beat. he eyes his water bottle in your hand and you give it back to him. “why did you guys take so long to get water? our reservation elapsed, so i guess we’re here now.”

heat rushes to your face and you feel like a deer caught in headlights. you’re too stunned to feel relieved that nanami’s eyes are looking less bloodshot and more normal. “oh uhh, we were just…”

“we did a lap around the library, nanamin. had to blow off some steam after all that physics, ya know?” satoru says, putting emphasis on that word. if you weren’t with everyone, you would’ve kicked him hard. 

nanami cocks an eyebrow in confusion while haibara doesn’t have a single thought behind his eyes as he readily accepts satoru’s answer. “oh wait! guess what we found while packing our shit up from the study room,” haibara says excitedly. 

“haibara, i really don’t wanna–” nanami starts. 

“we found another penis post-it note inside his textbook. how about that?” haibara says with much amusement. 

“oh my god! no way! do you still think it’s the mysterious girl from physics lab?” shoko says, eyes widening and voice slowly rising. haibara nods excitedly, and you shoot a dirty look at satoru from the corner of your eye, only to see him relishing the conversation. 

“yeah, there is this girl who always wants to partner up with nanamin-chan during lab. it’s gotta be her.” satoru shamelessly fans the flames of a wildfire of his own making. 

nanami pulls out a chair and buries his face in his arms, but the blush creeping up to his cheeks did not go unnoticed by anyone. “or, radical idea, it’s some girl sexually harassing me.” his mumbles. 

“okay, pack it up fellas. i said there’ll be no second warning, so all of you, OUT!” the library monitor takes all of you by surprise as none of you see him coming. “the next time i catch all of you talking loudly at this library results in suspension for the rest of the semester!” he says as you all quietly grab your stuff and leave the library wordlessly. he follows you guys until you’re outside in the crisp evening air and concrete steps of the library entrance. 

once he leaves, you allow yourself to freak out. “oh my god, are we gonna get suspended?! they can’t suspend us for this, right? god, i should’ve known you bitches couldn’t shut the fu–”

“jesus christ, y/n, chill. they just say that shit to scare you. this is like my fifth time getting kicked out of this library.” satoru says nonplussed, hands in his pockets as he leisurely descends down the stairs as the rest of you follow him. 

“thanks though for throwing us under the bus like that, y/n,” shoko says, rolling her eyes.

“is no one going to bring up why gojo is getting kicked out of libraries this much?” utahime asks. 

none of you answer, mostly because no one wants to know the answer to it. satoru’s smug smile is planted permanently on his face as he winks at utahime, and she gags. “anyway, what’s everyone doing? should we get dinner together?” haibara asks warmly, zipping up his jacket. everyone looks at each other and agrees. 

“oooh, let’s go to that new thai place downtown!” you suggest, pulling up your phone to look at the hours. 

“i’m down, let’s pick up suguru on the way. he’s at riko’s.” satoru responds, his information on suguru’s whereabouts earns a “ooohhh” from everyone. 

“he’s still there?! oh my god, he’s in love with that girl…” shoko says. 

the six of you take a walk to riko’s cafe, which is slowly closing up for the night. usually, you wouldn’t walk into a place if it was just five minutes before closing time, like you are now, but you figure it’s a special exception since one of your best friends is crushing on the owner. the lot of you inconspicuously make your way outside the cafe glass walls, trying to catch suguru and riko…doing what? you’re not entirely sure but shoko said something about seeing suguru in his “natural habitat”, and all of you agreed (you blame the caffeine). 

you crouch down and peer into the cafe to see suguru helping riko wipe down tables and stack up chairs (basically anything that requires heavy lifting). damn…that’s cute. may be love really is worth it. your breath hitches in your throat and you jaw goes slack when you see suguru lean in close to riko and kiss her tenderly. you, shoko, and utahime exchange glances with each other with wide eyes and you hear nanami say something about how we are invading suguru’s privacy. the trance this intimate and now stolen moment is broken as satoru bangs his hands against the wall loudly, scaring the lot of you and suguru and riko inside. suguru looks absolutely flummoxed, while riko immediately steps away from him and pretends to inspect something in the barista area. 

you hear satoru yelling through the glass. “open the door, lovebiiiirrdss!” he jiggles the door a couple times to open it but it’s locked. suguru comes closer to open the door and he looks like he’s going to summon curses to obliterate him, and frankly everyone else. 

“man, fuck you. what did i say? why are you here?” suguru says immediately after opening the door to satoru. he gives a disappointing stare to nanami and you. “honestly, i expected better from both of you.” 

nanami tries to defend himself with little to no avail while you focus on making it up to him by talking about thai food. “sorry, sugu, but let us make it up to you. dinner at that new thai place?”

“can riko come?”

“no!” utahime says out of nowhere. it’s silent for five seconds. “i’m just kidding, hehe. of course she can come!” she says sweetly. shoko is the only one who laughs. utahime’s timing in jokes were always questionable but at least she’s really pretty. 

suguru finishes putting up the last few chairs and goes to the back to let riko know about dinner plans. he and her disappear to the break room, and appear three minutes later with their bags and coat. they meet you outside and you notice suguru’s feet are restless, and his hands can’t find a proper place to rest. 

“you good, suguru?” you ask. 

“y-yeah, all good”, he says, pushing his bangs back. 

riko giggle. “he had one too many cups of coffee today.” him, too? “don’t blame him though, they were on the house.”

“oh, okay, great, so we’re all wired as fuck right now.” shoko remarks, as she puts an arm around utahime. 

“you guys got coffee? when? i didn’t see you guys stop by for anything?” riko questions, thinking back to customers that stopped by today. 

everyone is silent, not wanting to embarrass suguru for the second time in ten minutes. “uh, well…” you start. “satoru got us the coffees today!” you say, passing the ball to his court. his problem now. 

satoru shoots you daggers, not feeling fond of being put on the spot to come up with a quick lie. “oh, yeah. uh, i got it from…philz. because…”

“because you hate me and want me to die?” riko says without missing a beat. 

“because, uh…the barista…on main street…i’m sleeping with her. that’s it. my bad, riko-chan.” you don’t know what’s more shocking: the fact that you can’t tell if he’s lying or the fact that riko believes him so easily. 

riko thankfully drops the subject and everyone moves on to different topics, from haibara asking satoru more information about the hot philz barista and utahime sharing amusing events from teaching high schoolers this week. the group of you bask in the crisp and cool evening air as you walk leisurely to the thai place downtown, which was a nice walk away. once you guys arrive, you are met with the sunday night dinner line, which is awful to say the least. your heart deflates knowing you won’t be able to try this place and you and haibara start to look at other places for dinner before riko interrupts the both of you. 

“oh, don’t worry about it. i can get us in, gimme a minute.” she says, before squeezing past a bunch of people waiting in front and greeting the server at the front. the server seems to call someone over from inside the restaurant, and a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair and prominent laugh lines comes out, and his eyes light up when he sees riko. 

riko laughs and gives him a quick hug and starts talking to him about something and then gestures over to you and your friends. after a while of standing awkwardly, riko finally looks over at your group and motions you all to follow her. as you step into the restaurant, you’re met with romantic low lighting, roses as a centerpiece of every table, and various trinkets related to thai culture hanging on the wall and shelves. the place reminds you of somewhere your parents would take you to as a child after getting good grades in class, and it leaves you feeling nostalgic. 

you’re led to a corner of the restaurant where a waiter was quickly pulling two tables together to hold your party. “right this way,” the man says, extending his hand out to the table that was being set up in front of you. 

“thank you so much for having us during a busy night,” nanami says, bowing his head slightly in respect. 

the man laughs heartily. “oh, anything for riko-chan over here. we business owners gotta stay together, anyway. welcome!” you take a seat on the booth side of the two tables, with shoko sitting next to you and satoru taking the seat directly in front of you. “please let me know if there's anything you need during your dinner. my name is joseph!” you take a quick look at his name tag and as expected, see a silver tag engraved with “JOSEPH J” with his ownership title under it. what a sweet old man. 

your thoughts are interrupted by a slightly painful kick under the table to your shin. without looking down, you know in your soul who kicked you, and his stupid ocean eyes are looking directly at you as he mumbles a quick sorry. you waste no time in kicking him back, but earning no response in return. this begins a long game of footsies underneath the table between you and satoru. while trying to keep up with the conversation at the table, your short legs struggle to reach his, and you keep missing his feet. on the other hand, satoru easily dodges your feet and playfully kicks yours under the table (what is he? twelve years old?). 

you’re responding to something suguru and utahime said, when satoru uses his legs to spread your legs forcefully apart. you stutter in the middle of your sentence before gaining your composure back, and you feel the heat rise to your face. satoru’s foot inches closer and closer to your inner thigh, and you quickly finish your sentence, before taking large sips of your water. shoko gives you a look, internally asking if you were good to which you wave her off. 

“uh, i think i’m gonna use the bathroom, be right back,” you say, abruptly getting out of your seat and beelining to the restroom. you don’t actually need to use it, but you need to catch your breath after how easily satoru spread you apart and toyed with you under the table. you rinse your mouth with the tap water and fix your hair in the mirror when you hear a rap at the door. 

you open it and are met with satoru barging inside and locking the door. 

“satoru what are you–” you’re interrupted for the second time today with his lips as he kisses you deeply, his tongue immediately asking for access and you granting it too easily. “w-what are you d-doing~” you say in between sharp breaths and satoru kisses your neck and grips your ass hard. 

“didn’t you say you needed to cum? i’m helping you out,” he says as he feverishly leaves kisses all over your neck and brings his hands up to the hem of your sweater. he deftly slips his hands under your sweater and it takes everything in you to hold back a gasp has his fingers trace every part of your torso and eventually creepy up to your covered breasts. once his hands brush past your erect nipples, you let out a soft moan, inaudible in any normal circumstance, but satoru hears the vibrations through the lips attached to your neck. you can feel him smirking against your neck as he doesn’t let up with his small pecks. the last thing you want to do is give him the satisfaction of making a noise in the bathroom, but your resolve is short lived. 

satoru’s hands abruptly leave your chest, and make their way down to the buttons of your jeans. he fumbles with the zipper and you use the opportunity to run your fingers through his hair and leave small kisses on his temples. something about him taking you in the bathroom turns you on immensely, and the only way you can stop yourself from grinding against the air is to keep your mouth preoccupied. 

“y’gotta stop squirming, baby,” satoru says through ragged breaths, “can’t get these goddamn pants off you when your hips are grinding against my touch.” you feel a blush creep up to your face. you didn’t even know you were doing that. you thought you were actively keeping your hips stilled. 

“i am keeping still,” you whine. “if it’s a skill issue then just say that.” you tease, and egging him on works because once the zipper gets unstuck, your jeans practically fall down your ankles. you bend down to try to get them off completely without having to take off your shoes (you wouldn’t be caught dead in a public bathroom, even a nice one like this,  without your shoes), but satoru already has something else in mind. 

he spins you around and bends you over the granite counter, your cheeks burning from the shock of coldness of the stone. you breath is jagged as you feel satoru hook his finger to your panties and pull it down, feebly pooling by your ankles. you feel exposed as he hugs the mold of your ass and spreads it apart, but even you can’t help but feel your wetness drip down your inner thigh. you feel satoru’s hard-on press against you, and you try to will the fabric between the two of you to disappear so you could feel his length teasing your entrance.  fuck, there’s no getting out of this. do you even want to get out of this? not really…

“s-stop, satoru, we-we have t-to go b-back,” you protest, even though your legs betray you by spreading wider in anticipation of what will happen. 

“yeah, that’s why you’re practically dripping right now, right?” satoru says, his voice slightly strained. he kneels so he’s eye level to your dripping wet pussy and entrance. his mouth practically waters in anticipation of tasting you for the first time – something he’s been dying to taste since…god he doesn’t even know how long he’s been wanting this. 

he wastes no time plunging his tongue as deep as it can go inside your entrance, and he moans at the taste of you. at the same time, your eyes roll back in the pleasure of it all, your moans no longer being held back. using both hands to hold your hips in place and spread you apart, satoru continues his assault on your pussy, not leaving any part untouched by his tongue. you feel yourself out of breath already, and pushing back against his face, trying to feel the friction on your clit. 

satoru seems to catch on, and releases his hold on your hips with one hand and snakes it around you. his fingers find their way to your clit, as if he’s had the path memorized in the back of his hand. he starts rubbing your swollen bundle of nerves, earning breathless moans from you. he already came earlier today, but the sight your legs splayed our and pussy exposed in front of him is enough to make him burst just as hard. 

“fuck, feelin’ you clench against my tongue, baby,” satoru says, still drawing small circles on your clit. “gonna cum? this is what you’ve wanted for so long, haven’t you?” 

he’s teasing you now, and it’s sickening how that edges you on even more. your pussy clenches harder as his tongue re-enters you, and you know you’re going to spill any minute. the coil tightens inside your lower stomach, and you feel the familiar build up about to burst inside you. 

“nghh~ sa-satoru haaa~” you say in between breaths. “m’gonna cum…” 

“normally i’d make you beg but you’ve been such a good little girl for me today,” he says, maintaining the relentless pace of bullying your bundle of nerves. his tongue returns back into you, just in time for the coil to release inside you, and you clench uncontrollable against his mouth. your legs shake as satoru continues his ministrations until he senses you’re out of breath. 

your face feels damp as you try to catch your breath from the orgasm that ripped through your body. satoru stands up and leans against your bent over body, his breath on your skin tingle. he gives you a quick peck on the back of your neck, before you feel his hard-on against your opening. 

“a-are you gonna fuck me, now?” you ask in between breaths. you’re not sure if you could even take him in your fucked out state, but you weren’t raised a quitter. 

satoru chuckles softly against your neck before standing up straight. “i’d fuckin’ love to, but you look really roughed up. don’t wanna let people get the wrong idea here…” he teases, and your head immediately shoots up to look at the state of your appearance. 

your hair is shooting in all different directions, baby hairs and all. your eye makeup is slightly smudged, mascara creating slight racoon eyes. you gasp at how quickly and carelessly you allowed yourself to get this fucked out, all from getting eaten out. “satoru! what the fuck did you do?!” you exclaim, feebly trying to lift yourself off the counter. 

satoru helps you up but frowns. “the fuck did i do?”

you frantically try to smooth your hair down back to it’s original state, but the flyaways still remain, and the humidity of your activities in the bathroom is slowly adding to the frizziness of it. fuck, you’re so screwed. “you…you bent me over! and…” you struggle to find the words to accuse him with. you know it’s not his fault or yours, but you need someone to blame right now. 

“and what? gave you head? and then the best orgasm of your life?” he smirks, watching you as you put your pants back on. 

“don’t flatter yourself. that was nowhere near the best orgasm i’ve ever had.” you say, making eye contact with him through the mirror, as you wet a paper towel and skillfully try to remove any evidence of running mascara from your face. 

satoru raises his eyebrows. “damn, really? guess i just have to keep on giving them to you until one of them is.”

your heart practically leaps out of your chest, and you feel another familiar wetness pool down in your panties just thinking about what this could possibly entail for you.

[gofishygo]

mito mito mito hihi 😋

i’ve been having some thoughts n i felt like sharing w the class newayssss

so i was having bubble tea earlier and i started thinking,,,,what cod characters would like it? i feel like price def wouldn’t,,simon wouldn’t mind it but he does def think its too sweet and proper tea is superior and blah blah blah (i acc don’t know im kinda divided on that like i hc him as a sweet tooth but bubble tea,,,ehhh i feel like he wouldn’t like it all that much like he’d be all grumbly about it,,, idfk

johnny and gaz i think would like it lots ,,

i also think alex wouldn’t like it abd farah would (i js like hc farah as this secret softie ok leave me alone 😞)

but THAT got me thinking,,,, what other food preferences would they have ?? i think gaz would rlly like sushi (saw a fan art of him on a sushi date w the reader and i forgot who made it but ):$/:)/&!:!!!!! it was so cute) and i also think gaz would handle spicy food well ?? and he would like seafood in general methinks (tryna think of some select seafood items he wouldn’t like but im drawing a blank bc im vegetarian shusbssjnsuen)

idrk ab simon and johnny and price,,,,,,out of them 3, i feel like simon or johnny would have the biggest sweet tooth (they’re on like completely dif ends of the spectrum character wise but shh i js know it) but they all eat A SHIT TON like the food could be burned or too salty or smth but if they’ve js come back from a mission then they’re eating that shit UP. and asking for seconds. and thirds. they would still give u food feedback if it’s some other day tho

also johnny is extremely passionate about haggis. no i have never tried it yes i js know he is ok moving on

KONIGGGG hmmmm,,,, i have no fucking idea lmao i think? a lot of german cusine involves bread and stuff,,,so……………i think he’d have rlly bland meals idk

i’ve been rlly into keegan lately but i cant come up w anything for him aaaa

also gaz would be the only one who knows how to use chopsticks. the others would learn fast being in the military and all but gaz and chopstick skills js make sense???

ANYWAY im soso sry for rambling sm lmao this is a lot of words,,,,,and this isn’t a req by any means !!! js needed to hear ur thoughts bc food is js calling to me like “ok but would blank character like this” like. urgh. ok im done now i think but yeah food preferences for cod characters of ur choice

ALSO !!! THE IOS SHARK STICKERS REMIND ME OF U,,,,,look at them$:!!;&:!3 OK IM ACC DONE NOW BYE BEY MITO HIPE U DONT FALL ASLEPE READING ALL THAT

AHHH hi weebun !! ^^ i was literally having bubble tea with my sister like a few hours ago and when i checked the inbox n saw this i BOLTED !! sorry for never responding to this, i forgot inbox existed..,

notes: shittily wrote as this as a warmup/just general yap :> sorry for messiness and incoordination.., platonic, no warnings !! unless ur lactose intolerant idk

so you'll be jus chillin w the 141 on base and then say something like "boba is absolute gas shits better than normal tea" and of course, since the majority of the taskforce is british, you get absolutely fucking jumped for it. like- keep in mind, you say this price, the NUMBER ONE TEA AND BISCUTS DEFENDER, so you do end up getting toilet duty for a week with the explanation of 'uncordial behaviour.'

but after your deployment, you are the one to arrange where the 141 meet up. it's a little ritual you guys have developed to stay connected in between missions, one that makes your friendship seem a bit more real. sometimes the only thing that keeps your eyes open and heart pumping. and since you're an absolute fucking menace, you ask if you can meet around the heart of london- and then drag them all into the nearest bubble tea store you can.

-

price... doesn't end up liking it. takes a total of two sips, nearly chokes on the pearls, and then sets the cup down. he claims he's been around long enough to know that this- like many other foods, is probably some 'trendy millennial bullshit that'll disappear in a solid few', but that doesn't help ease the insane side eye that he gets from the cashier.

but to your surprise, ghost seems somewhat okay with it. his face doesnt really change (from what you can tell- his mouth is still hidden due to some face mask he put on), but he seems neutral, relaxed, even. he mutters something along the lines of how it isn't too bad, but it doesn't beat a cuppa- to which you chose to ignore, and how he'll probably just stick to having an earl grey in the mornings. but a few months later, you catch him at the same boba store, and you cant help but giggle to yourself.

soap fucking inhales the drink. its genuinely concerning, to say the very least. he seems to like.. unhinge his jaw like some kind of snake, and then inhales the whole drink in what you think is a millisecond. and since he's the only scotsman on the team- thinks the whole 'tea n biscuits' ritual his colleagues have is utter stupidity, so not only does he now FREQUENTLY drink boba because he likes it- he also drinks out of utter spite.

gaz is the only one with a seemingly respectable opinion about boba, unfortunately. he's had it before, multiple times- it appeals to his sweet tooth and is the occasional treat after long missions. but unlike you, gaz does not value peace, and seems to keep egging soap on in chugging unreasonable amounts of the drink. (and he doesnt mention it, as he does not want to face the same punishment as you did, but he thinks that bubble tea is sometimes, just sometimes better than his cuppa.)

masterlist (some of my other stuff is better promise)