#however there were some signs anyway

[princess-of-morkva]

i see merlin trending, i wanna post something.

no but seriously how did that happen. not that i'm complaining

[sailforvalinor]

Idk if this is controversial, but studying for a English/writing degree at university shouldn’t make you NOT want to engage with writing or literature. Just a thought.

[gatheryepens]

Okay so an artist I like will be eventually touring in my country but I didn’t sign up for access for tickets (I think?) so I’m unsure whether I can still buy tickets or not

[bruhstories]

sweet like honey ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

summary: logan ended up spending his evenings in the bar across the street from your bakery, watching you do your job. he never approached you, never talked to you, but he always kept an eye on you, until he has a bad feeling. pairing: logan x fem!reader warning & content: swearing, violence, reader almost gets assaulted (but logan saves the day), she/her pronouns for reader, wade being wade, unprotected p in v, fluff, angst, lots of baking and mentions of food, slightly ooc logan (if you squint), slow burn, sex in a bakery wc: 6k

a/n: i don't always write, but when i do, it's a fucking thesis. unedited.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Logan was never a fan of sweets. He hated chocolate, cheesecake, gummy bears — literally anything sweet. The only thing he could barely stomach was tiramisu, and only because it had coffee in it. Other than that, he steered away from sweets like they were the fucking plague.

Yet despite all that, he found himself enjoying the smell of freshly baked croissants, custard donuts, brownies, and whatever goods you baked in your little bakery, conveniently situated across the street from his go-to bar.

Cleverly named Flour Power, it was all pastel both inside and out, with little pots of hyacinths hanging from its window and a big sign above the entrance. Not that Logan ever went there, but he always walked past it when he went for a drink. Flour Power stood out from all the shops with its baby blue windowsills and bubblegum pink door. As much as he disliked vibrant colours, his eyes were always drawn to the bakery. But not because of how it looked or the way it smelled.

No, Logan strategically sat down by the window in the bar to see you. Every evening, he watched you sell everything you had on display, from wedding cakes to éclairs, greetings customers with a warm smile on your face. He watched you turn the sign from open to closed, lock the door, clean the display shelves, the counters, the only two tables and four chairs inside, and sweep and mop the floors. Then you disappeared in the back for a while, perhaps doing the dishes or preparing dough and frosting, before you walked out, locked the door again, pulled down the blinds over the big window on the right side of the door, and left.

It became a ritual for Logan to watch you. In a way, it brought him some peace, despite him never speaking to you. To him, you were innocence personified, the type of girl who made others feel better simply by being there, and he didn't want to disturb that peace.

Tonight was an ordinary night for the 200 year old mutant. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, drank it all, then went to the bar to ask for another round, killing time until you closed the bakery, then he could finally go back to the apartment. You closed at 7 for clients and left at 8:30 every evening except for Sundays, when you didn't work. Logan knew your schedule a little to well, even knew you opened for clients at 8 in the morning, but you were there much earlier, because he could smell the pastries at around half 6. This time, however, you seemed to have a bit more work. It was past 9, it was dark, and you still hadn't left, and Logan was slightly concerned.

He watched you like a hawk, how you tucked rebellious strands of hair behind your ear when you mopped the floor, how you wiped your hands on your cute little apron after you finished scrubbing the countertops. Logan thought you had extra orders from customers, perhaps a wedding cake. He scrunched his nose at the thought of having to try so many flavours only to pick a damn cake that he probably wouldn't enjoy anyway.

But finally, you were done.

It was almost 10 when you locked the door to the bakery, double checking to make sure it wouldn't budge. Then the blinds and off you went. Logan was satisfied to see you go, but the hairs on his back suddenly stood up, his nostrils filled with the scent of danger. Bitter, sour, it went straight to his brain, and so he finished his drink and left the bar, following you down the street but keeping a safe distance.

You walked past a group of drunk men, gripping your tote bag with your left hand and your keys with your right one. You've learned to place the keys between your fingers, like claws, in case someone attacked you. Going home at that time wasn't something you enjoyed, and you always tried to avoid working late, but sometimes that was inevitable. When you heard footsteps approaching you, you picked up the pace, but paranoia kicked in, and you didn't want whoever was following you to find out where you lived, and so you took a detour.

Logan was like your shadow, going everywhere you went, until he heard something drop in a dimly lit alleyway and he sped up, finding you round a corner, pinned to a wall by a man while another guy had his hand up your dress. It was too dark to see, but Logan didn't need eyes to know that was you. He could smell the vanilla extract and icing sugar and fear.

"Take my wallet!" You told the men, but they weren't there for the money. They wanted something else from you.

"Nah, doll, I'll take something else from you. Somethin' more precious than money." One of the men said, his breath reeking of alcohol, the cheap kind.

"Hurry up and fuck her, bro, I need my turn-"

Something flashed, then a shadow lunged at the second guy who couldn't even finish his sentence before he was struck down.

"Mike?" The man who pinned you against the wall asked, his hands trembling on your body. "Stop fucking around."

But Mike was seeing stars somewhere on the alleyway. It happened so quickly you couldn't understand what was going on. When your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, you saw him, rough, handsome and very, very angry.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man asked, but all he got in response was a guttural growl. "Hey, man, I don't want any trouble. My girlfriend and I were just talking. Stay out of it." He grabbed you by the neck, dragging you away from Logan.

You seized the opportunity and wrestled out of his grasp by biting your assaulter's hand, dashing behind a bin.

"Ow! Fucking bitch!" He lunged at you, but Logan was quicker, piercing his claws through his shoulder and holding him in place.

"That's no way to talk to a lady." The mutant snarled, and you watched how his claws retracted before he punched the man in the face, effectively knocking him down.

He was the Wolverine. You had seen it all over the news, how he saved your universe, how he came from a different world. You couldn't believe he was the one helping you when you thought no one would save you in that moment.

"You alright, kid?" His raspy voice startled you and you barely nodded, still too shocked to move or speak. "You sure?"

You shook your head and tears rolled down your cheeks as you finally started to process what just happened. Logan scrunched his nose — comforting someone wasn't his strongest skill — and instead he picked up your bag and keys from the pavement.

"Shit, um, don't cry." He handed you your belongings, and you looked up at him with a frown.

How could you not cry when you saw your entire life flashing before your eyes? Logan swallowed a lump in his throat and offered his hand to help you stand up. You looked at his hand, reluctant to grab it. The only thing he could compare you with was a cat — cautious, yet curious.

"No claws." He said when he understood the meaning behind your eyes. "Come, I'll- um, I'll walk you home."

The invitation had you perk up and gain courage, and you quietly took the bag from his hand. He walked with you in complete silence, until you stopped in front of a building. You lingered, unwilling to go in. Logan asked if that was your place, and after you nodded, he offered to take you all the way to your apartment, which made you feel relieved. He could see it on your face when you sighed. You guided him up the stairs, constantly looking behind you to make sure he was there.

You stopped in front of a tall wooden door, keys in hand.

"Go on. I'll wait until you lock the door." Logan encouraged you.

"Can you stay?" You finally spoke, and your voice was sweet like honey, fitting for a baker.

"I don't know, kid-"

"Please." You looked at him with glossy eyes, pupils blown from the fear that hadn't left your body yet. The fear he could still smell.

"Yeah. Okay, I'll stay."

"Thank you."

Logan followed you in, and you flipped the light switch on before locking the door behind him. He looked around and, just as he expected, the apartment was a direct reflection of your bakery — clean, colourful and calm. There were recipes stuck to the walls with pink pins, and between them little paintings of sunsets, skies, flowers, cats. All things cute. They weren't framed, and so Logan figured they were hand-made, his assumptions confirmed by the easel in the corner of your living room.

Of course your sofa had to be colourful, too — mustard yellow with sage green cushions and blankets. Even your curtains were sage green. Despite the explosion of colours, Logan found himself enjoying being there. Not everything had to be brown, black and grey, he thought. Probably the only vibrant thing in his life was his suit, since the only people that brought colour were his friends, and they were gone.

"Drink?" You cracked the walls he put up around his heart with that sweet voice.

You shook a bottle of gin to get his attention and he nodded. Logan wasn't a fan of gin, but he didn't expect you to have any hard liquors. He watched you pull out two blue glasses from the kitchen cabinet, and of course they had to be funky, with white flowers on them.

"Where'd you get these?" He asked, swirling the drink in his hand.

"I made them. Kind of." You said. "Bought them from a charity store and painted the flowers. Do you want some tonic water?"

"Fuck no." Logan choked on his gin when you asked him that question. Simply being in a place so... colourful was enough. He didn't need a girly drink.

"I'm Y/N, by the way."

"I'm-"

"The Wolverine!" You cut him off a little too eager.

"-Logan. Call me Logan." He cringed when the beverage tickled his taste buds. It wasn't bitter enough for him.

"Logan. Thanks for tonight. Is there any way I can repay you?"

The question was riddled with innocence, but he couldn't stop the degenerate thoughts that popped in his mind when you asked him that. You were just so pure that he wanted to both protect you and ruin you.

"Don't mention it. I couldn't just walk past without doing anything." Logan lied, because, really, he wasn't just walking by, was he? No, it was downright stalking.

"I could bake something for you." You offered and he shook his head.

"I don't like sweets, kid."

"What?" You were baffled. "Everybody likes something sweet."

"Not me." He shrugged. "All I like is tiramisu and only if those biscuits are doused in coffee."

"Ladyfingers." You corrected him with a chuckle. "They're called ladyfingers."

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious! Here!" You rushed to your pantry and pulled out a whole box of them, showing Logan the name.

"That's just stupid." He shook his head. "Who calls them ladyfingers?"

"Uh, everyone?" You laughed at his surprise, and the thoughts of your bad evening slowly dissipated, like a bad dream.

Logan truly was clueless about baking, but spent hours listening to you talk about types of sugar, extracts and their uses, and the difference between baking soda and baking powder in cooking. You rambled on and on and not once did he get bored. He could listen to you talk for hours with your voice soothing. Logan thought about it, and he genuinely never met someone like you before. The women in his life were all so different, but you took the cake. You were special in ways he couldn't understand. And he was just so drawn to you.

"I'm sorry, I haven't stopped talking once!" You apologised, realising how safe you felt with him there. You would never let a stranger inside your house, let alone talk about baking while having gin. But Logan wasn't a stranger. Not after he saved you.

"'s alright. It's not every day I learn about baking." He chuckled, finishing his drink. "Listen, I should get going."

"Right." You sighed, eyes darting at the floor. "No, of course. I've kept you too long."

Logan got up and you walked with him to the hallway. He was slow to put his leather jacket on, as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything, but when you didn't, he unlocked the door and opened it.

"Hey, Logan?" You tugged at his sleeve, whispering so you wouldn't wake your neighbours. "Are you sure I can't bake you something? Not now, I mean. I really want you to try something besides tiramisu. And that way I can repay you."

"Hell, why not?" He shrugged.

"Great!" You beamed at him like a child on Christmas day. "Stop by my bakery tomorrow at twelve. It's on Granville Street."

"I thought you didn't work on Sundays."

"Oh, how'd you know?" You quirked a brow at him.

Caught red-handed.

"Educated guess."

"Fair enough." His answer satisfied you. "Be there or be square!"

Sleep was for the weak. All night, Logan tossed and turned and abused his poor pillow with with punches. The mere thought of seeing you, no, interacting with you, had him wriggle like a worm on the mattress. It didn't help that Wade instantly noticed something was up.

"Oh, my, did you shower, peanut?"

"Not today, Satan." Logan poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Mmm, and what do I smell?" Wade sniffed the air. "Wait, is that my perfume?"

"Forgot to pack mine when I swapped universes." The Wolverine barked back.

"Hah!" Blind Al chimed in from the living room. "I think tall, dark and handsome here has a date!"

Logan rolled his eyes while Wade pouted, plopping on the sofa next to Al.

"You never called me that."

"That's cause you’re a degenerate." The woman snorted.

"Takes one to know one, doesn't it- ow! Stop hitting me with your cane, I know where you hide your nose candy!" Wade fought back.

"Touch it and I'll bust a cap in your ass!" Al scoffed.

"And I'll regenerate."

Logan used the opportunity to slip into the hallway, but his roommate was quicker, and blocked the door.

"You're not going anywhere until we have the talk."

"The talk?" The Wolverine snorted.

"Ah, they grow up so fast." Wade told Al. "Now, son, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"I'll give you three seconds to fuck off."

"Oh, but I need to know everything! Who is he?"

"She." Logan rolled his eyes.

"Oh my god, is this you coming out to us? Al, he's straight! I promise we love you anyway." Wade went for a hug and all Logan could do was accept it. He learned to live with Wade, even though he dislocated his jaw a few times after he moved in.

"Alright, that's enough."

"Nooo, we're just getting started. Name? Age? Occupation? We could do a double date with Vanessa-"

"Absolutely fucking not." Logan pushed Wade off of him.

"Okay, okay. Just make sure you wrap your willy, and if you need any advice, daddy's here." Wade opened the door for his roommate.

"Actually." Logan lingered in the hallway. "What kind of flowers do girls like?"

The blinds to the bakery were closed but you were inside, pastries in the oven and dessert in the fridge. You couldn't help yourself and prepared something savoury as well, in case he didn't like the lemon cake. A knock on the door startled you, and you rushed to check who it was.

Logan stood there, a bouquet of peonies in his hand. You welcomed him in with a smile, but he could tell it was different than the one you flashed your customers. It seemed more genuine. And it felt like a date.

"These are for you." Logan handed you the flowers, taking in the scent of pork pies. "I thought you were gonna bake something sweet." He flared his nostrils.

"I did, I just thought I should have a plan B in case you didn't like my cake." You placed the bouquet in a vase on one of your tables. "How did you know I liked peonies?"

Logan couldn't believe Wade was right about those damn flowers. And there he was, thinking roses would be better. Maybe the Merc with a Mouth wasn't so bad after all.

"I had a hunch." He shrugged. 

"Well, Logan, I love them! Now sit, sit!" You ushered him to his seat. "I hope you're hungry, because there's a lot for you to try."

"A lot? I thought you'll make me a cupcake or somethin', bub."

"A cupcake?? Don't be silly." Just as you said that, the oven made a loud ding sound, and you turned on your heels, heading in the back.

Logan waited patiently, observing every little detail from the front of your bakery, from the spotless display shelves to the neatly organised paper bags, to the fairy lights around the window. It was obvious to him that you had put your mind, body and soul into this bakery, and his expectations were quite high after all the fuss you made. But he decided to be nice not matter how the food tasted. He couldn't bear seeing you upset if he didn't like what you made.

You reappeared with a tray in your hand, and on it two plates, one with a small pork pie, one with a croissant, and a cup of coffee. Hell, even the cutlery was cute, with swirls engraved on the handles of the fork, knife and teaspoon.

"I decided to leave the cake for last." You said, placing the tray in front of him. "This is a simple pork pie, start with that." You urged him. "Careful, it's hot."

The Wolverine struggled with the cutlery, too small for his large hands, and the brief thought of slashing the pie with his claws crossed his mind, but he decided to be civil. You watched him butcher the food, eager to see his reaction, but he was taking his time.

"I'll let it cool off a bit."

"Ooh, that's probably a good idea." You nodded.

"Aren't you having some?" Logan asked.

"Noo, no. I like to bake for others, not for myself."

"So what do you eat, then?" He sipped on the coffee.

"Instant noodles usually. I'm too tired to cook when I get home. I do occasionally have leftovers, but whatever isn't sold I take it to the local shelter." You explained.

Christ, you couldn't be any kinder. Logan was stunned by your beauty and your soul, which was why he decided that after today, he will stop any interaction with you. He couldn't ruin you, not with his lifestyle, not with the danger that followed him everywhere.

The only problem was that the conversation flowed naturally, and he felt safe with you, just as you did with him. Like you were the missing piece to his puzzle. Logan pushed away those thoughts and decided to try the food. He took a large mouthful of the pie, chewed and swallowed, and you waited expectantly.

"Shit."

"What? Is it bad?" You jumped from your seat.

"Fuck, this is the best pork pie I've ever had." Logan wiped his mouth with a tissue you provided. "I'm serious, kid. Did you put drugs in it?"

You laughed, shaking your head as he finished the rest of the pie. He truly seemed to enjoy it, and you felt so satisfied. But the real test came after.

"Pistachio croissant." You said. "I thought about making almond ones, but I figured pistachio wasn't that sweet."

"Right, let's see." Logan took a healthy bite out of the pastry, and lo and behold, he closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. If heaven had a taste, it would be that damned croissant.

"Is it good?"

"Good? Jesus, this is the best one yet." He finished the rest of it, the pistachio cream tickling his taste buds in all the right ways. "Who taught you to bake like this?"

"My grandma. She was the best cook I knew." You smiled.

Logan noticed your use of past tense, and he didn't want to bring up any bad memories. He wasn't the nosy type, but something possessed him to ask you about your life, your family, your favourite colours. He needed to know more about you, and you answered all his questions, opening up to him like a flower in bloom. But when it came to him talking about himself, Logan was reluctant.

Talking to Wade was easier, because Wade didn't take anything seriously, nor did he ask personal questions. Well, he did, but in his own stupid way that provided Logan some distraction, as well as a reason to punch him. But with you it was different. He felt like he owed you serious answers that he wasn't yet ready to tell a stranger who made a mean pistachio croissant.

"The cake!" You spun on the chair, changing the subject when you saw Logan dodging your questions like bullets.

Although he didn't say it, he was grateful that you didn't put any pressure on him to talk. He wasn't a talker. That was definitely Wade. You came back with the whole cake, and it looked so good that Logan didn't want you to cut it. Perfectly round, a layer of cream in the middle and white frosting on top. You even went so far as to decorate it with all kinds of yellow flower petals and what seemed to be mint leaves.

"Alright, hit me. What's this one called?"

"I call it the Mojito Cake. The sponge cake has lemon zest, the cream is made of lime, mint and rum syrup, and the frosting is buttercream with a dash of actual rum." You explained.

"Shit, I can't tell if that sounds disgusting or incredible."

"Only one way to find out." You cut him a thick slice, and Logan wasted no time trying it.

"I think you found yourself a new customer."

"You're too nice."

"I'm anything but nice, kid." He took three more spoonfuls. "But I ain't a liar. This is delicious." Logan spoke with his mouth full and it made you chuckle.

"Oh, there's a bit of frosting on your face."

"Hm?" He used the tissue to wipe his chin. "Did I get it?"

"No, it's still- here, I'll get it." You leaned forward and delicately ghosted your thumb over the corner of his mouth, eyes locked with his.

Without thinking about it, you dragged your tongue over the frosting, and Logan couldn't look away from you even if he wanted to. A gesture so innocent, but it destroyed any form of restraint. He pressed his lips onto yours, tasting the rum and the cream, but before you could kiss him back, he pulled away.

"Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

You gave him no time to finish his sentence when you placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him with fire on your tongue. God, he hated being touched, but when you did it, he melted in your hands. Lust battled reason and prevailed, and you found yourself straddling Logan's lap, arms around his neck and chest pressed against his.

His large hands found their way under your dress, fingers digging in the plush of your thighs until a moan escaped past your lips. Logan could've sworn you were pure in all ways — a virgin — so, naturally, he was surprised to see you eager to jump his adamantium bones.

With the last shred of reason left in you, you glanced at the door and window to make sure they were covered, and pushed Logan's jacket off his shoulders, peppering his neck with soft kisses. He wasn't the gentle type, no matter how hard he tried, and he didn't need to be when he felt your hips grind in his lap. It was more than obvious that you wanted him then and there.

Logan lifted you up as if you weighed nothing and slammed you down the empty table. His roughness sent a chill down your spine, because you really wanted him to manhandle you from the moment he stepped foot in your bakery. He kissed you again, pressing his whole against yours until your back hit the table. You felt like a cornered animal with nowhere to go, and the thrill of it turned you on.

"Are you sure you want this?" Logan asked despite you unbuckling his belt.

"I don't want this, I want you. I need you to fuck me so hard I can't walk." You unzipped his jeans, and although he was taken aback by your sudden use of filthy words, he couldn't deny he enjoyed seeing that side of you.

"Greedy little girl." Logan's hand slithered between your legs, fingers rubbing circles over your clothed clit. "Shit, you're soakin' wet. Can feel it through your fuckin' panties already." He flared his nostrils, taking in the scent of your arousal.

With his jeans loose around his waist, you palmed his cock through his boxers, and it didn't shock you for a second that he was rock hard. What did shock you, however, was the size of it. It was probably the biggest you've ever taken, and you didn't want any other man anymore.

You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, making it clear that you didn't want to waste any more time. Not that you didn't want to suck his dick or explore every inch of his body and worship it the way a man like him deserved it, but you were impatient.

Logan got the hint when you whined and scoffed, and he tore the pink panties off of you, tossing them on the floor. At least he had the decency not to put them on the table, which you were going to disinfect anyway. He pushed his boxers down, and you propped yourself on your elbows to look at him, and it was a sight for sore eyes indeed. He had perfectly sculpted abs, you could see them under the half-lifted t-shirt, but it was his cock that made your mouth water.

"Like what you see?" Logan was smug, confident in his good looks.

"I need to permanently imprint this image on my retina." You told him, and he couldn't help the chuckle.

"Likewise. Now spread 'em."

"Yessir!" You very quickly obeyed, parting your legs for him, and Logan couldn't deny that he enjoyed being in control.

He wasn't one to take orders, nor give them, but watching you comply scratched an itch he couldn't get rid of. Logan pressed the tip of his cock against your slick folds, earning another whine from you. You bucked your hips, craving more, and he scoffed.

"That desperate, hm?"

"You have no idea." You dug your manicured fingernails into his shoulders, bracing for temporary pain, because you knew damn well it would hurt.

"I don't know, I didn't hear you say please." Logan frowned, and you understood what game he was playing. A game you yearned to be part of.

"Oh, please, please, please fuck me, Logan! I'll be so good for you! I'll do anything you want." You clung to his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him. "I'll even take it in any hole you want." You whispered, dragging your tongue over his lips.

"Shit." Logan was weak in the knees from your words, and the worst part was that he believed everything you said. But there was a time and place for everything.

You were the perfect mix of sweet and spicy, and you begged so nicely that the Wolverine just couldn't say no. You felt the leaking tip of his cock push past your folds and you audibly gasped at the size of it, drawing blood from his skin with your fingernails.

"It won't fit-" You whined with lust in your voice.

"I'll make it fit." Logan promised, painstakingly slowly thrusting into you.

He gave you time to adjust to his girth, constantly checking if you were alright, if you wanted him to carry on or stop, and while you loved that he was so caring, you needed him hurry up and fuck you.

To assure him that you would survive his monstrous cock, you planted a soft kiss on his nose, and there it was again, the change in your personality, from sultry to innocent. It was as though you embodied everything he ever wanted, and his desire to never contact you again went down the drain. How could Logan ever leave someone like you?

"I'm ready." You nodded, and he pressed his forehead onto yours, slowly rolling his hips.

You weren't ready, because it hurt like a bitch when he stretched out your velvety walls. But the pain was soon replaced by pleasure, and Logan picked up the pace when your whimpers turned to moans, and the slight frown on your face disappeared.

"So tight." He hummed, forehead resting against yours.

Were you tight, or was he just so incredibly big? Either way, you were a panting mess already, clinging to him for dear life, and Logan forgot his worries, even if it was just for that one moment. You were too good to be true, with your parted lips and glossy eyes — a beautiful sight for his sore eyes.

"Fuck, I- fuck!" You wrapped your legs around his waist, the table screeching under you. Not a single coherent sentence could come out of your mouth. "Logan, shit, I-"

"What's the matter? Need something?" He cooed, fingers bruising into your hips. "Use your big girl words."

"Need it ha-harder!" You cried out but he slowed down, confusion written all over your face.

"Where are your manners?"

"Please, daddy, please give it to me harder!"

The term of endearment had Logan quirk a brow at you, but he wasn't surprised in the slightest that you had a daddy kink. And he basked in being called that.

"Are you sure you can take it?"

"Yes!" There was no hesitation in your response. "Fuck, yes!"

Logan growled when he felt your pussy clench around his cock, and he delivered, thrusting deeper, harder and faster into you, until the sound of skin on skin echoed in the bakery, and your breathing became heavier.

"Fuuuuck, I can feel it in my gut!" You threw your head back when the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix.

"Filthy. Little. Slut." Each word came with a thrust and a groan, and he filled you up so good, you became addicted to him.

Your toes curled up, and your legs began to twitch when you felt your orgasm build up. Each push and pull made your vision blurry, and Logan's grip on you tightened as his hips stuttered. He was feral, and he was close, you could feel it in your bones.

"Fuck, Logan, do- oh- don't stop!" Words spilled from your mouth incoherently, and after a few more thrusts, pure bliss rushed through your body.

"That's it, let go." Logan buried his face in the crook of your neck, slamming hard into you until all you could do was chant his name like a prayer.

You felt him fill you up, pussy hot and sticky and sore, and he slowly pulled out, eyes darting at the tissues on the table. He grabbed them, gently cleaning you up, and you couldn’t stop the grin on your face. There was just something about a man like him be so gentle. And you were absolutely delighted to have him take care of you.

"You know," Logan said licking his lips, "I'm beginning to think you didn't want me to just taste your pastries."

"True." You told him smugly. "But you liked them."

"I like you more." He blurted out without thinking.

You felt your cheeks burn at his sudden honesty, and after sliding up your underwear and fixing your dress, you planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I like you too, honey badger."

"Don't ever call me that again." Logan chuckled.

"Not happening. Now, could you pleaaaase help me clean up this place? The last thing I need is a surprise hygiene inspection tomorrow."

He couldn't even imagine what the inspectors would do if they found out you had sex in a bakery, and with a nod, Logan zipped up his jeans and began disinfecting the tables and chairs while you swept the floor.

In less than half an hour you were done, and the shop was squeaky clean. You were satisfied with the end result, and told Logan that you wanted him to have the rest of the cake, pies and croissants. He thought Wade and Al could eat something, and decided to accept your offer.

"Can I come with you? There's quite a few boxes of food." You told him, a sheepish grin on your lips.

"Is that your way of finding out where I live?"

"Maybe. I'll go home if you don't want me with you."

"No, you're good." Logan assured you. "Besides, I'm sure my roommate's gonna devour everything. He'll probably lock you up in our apartment and force you to bake for him."

"I don't know if that's a threat or a promise." You laughed.

"Both. It's both."

You walked with Logan down the street, boxes in your arms, and you were surprised to see him open up to you more. He answered almost every question you had, and you felt him more relaxed. And he was. Logan forgot how much he needed that kind of connection with someone. You were so easy to talk to, you didn't judge him, and most importantly, you listened.

He guided you up the stairs to his apartment and knocked on the door, because he couldn't reach his keys with so many boxes in his arms. You baked for a damn army.

Wade opened the door, and you were taken aback by his appearance, but it didn't scare you. Instead, you introduced yourself as Logan's personal baker, earning a chuckle from him.

"Come on in, Martha Stewart." Wade opened the door enough for you to walk through it with the boxes and not drop them.

"Wade." Logan came back from the kitchen with a croissant. "Eat. Seriously, eat."

You watched Wade wolf down the pastry without hesitation and his eyes lit up. He chewed and swallowed, then moaned, eyes rolling back. The look of disgust on Logan's face was priceless.

"Holy fucking shit, Y/N, what the fuck did you put in this?" Wade grabbed your shoulders, giving them a good shake. "It's so flaky and creamy and buttery, like a bunch of unicorns came in my mouth."

"I'm glad you like it." You giggled. "Try the cake."

"There's cake?!" He ran to the kitchen, leaving you and Logan in the hallway before coming back, a slice of half-eaten cake in his hand. "I am officially impressed. Can you make Rocky Road?"

"Yes."

"Dulce de leche?"

"Yep."

"Baklava?"

"Uh-huh."

"Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte?"

"Yes, Wade!" You rolled your eyes, then turned to Logan. "Sugar rush?"

"Oh, you have no idea. And this is him on a good day."

"Listen, sweet cheeks, if old man fuckface here won’t marry you, I will. Just don’t tell Vanessa." Wade whispered.

"Don’t even think about it, you degenerate limp dick."

"Ugh, fine. And here I was hoping all four of us could be a happy dysfunctional family. Five if you count Al. Six with Colossus. Wait, actually, eight with-"

"Wade, have you tried the pork pies?" You asked, effectively shutting him up.

Yeah, Logan could definitely get used to being around you from now on to sweeten up his life.

[sant-riley]

[Touchy feely] [tf141 headcanons]

(Romantic impied Task force 141 boys x gender neutral!reader headcanons :))

Summary: Being the sweetheart of the task force means the boys are not shy about the fact that they're all simps and always want some sort of contact with you at all times.

Consists of romantic/suggestive headcanons for each of the guys and little things they do with you <3

Words: about 1.5k (this was supposed to be short, whoops)

Warnings/Info: Can be read separately but it is intended that they all harbor feelings for you at the same time, possibly out of character for everyone, some swearing, the guys manhandle you, as always, let me know if I miss something!

Thinking about how each of the boys is so touchy with you, it doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, they're shameless.

Other units and teams who will sometimes share the base with 141 know better than to ask questions or directly say anything to one of the guys or you for that matter. Not that they could anyway, seeing as you always have at least one of them attached to your hip.

Price:

Anyone who walks into Price's office late at night to turn something in is used to seeing you next to the Captain on the little dingy loveseat he has in there.

John is usually smoking a cigar, taking care to not blow smoke your way while your head is resting on his shoulder. Your eyes closed as you hum at his words. It's terribly domestic for a military base.

John likes to gently play with your hair while he speaks about missions he's been on, always somehow trying to braid despite not knowing how to for jack shit, whether it because it's you or just the mindless motion, he's not willing to say.

John will usually walk you back to your room after dinner or time in his office unless he's swamped with work.

A small hand on the small of your back while he leads you. It's always a respectable touch, though he tucks you into his side, nodding at everyone you may pass.

If you're comfortable with it, he likes to press a kiss to your head, smiling that goofy ass smile, and tells you to get a good night's rest.

He lets you help him trim up his beard, he won't let you do all of it but he likes the closeness of it, him sitting down while you gently shape it up, tilting his head up and he tries his best to not stare directly at your chest.

The fact that he's letting you this close to his neck with a razor is a sign of trust, maybe small for others but for a man that doesn't drop his guard and doesn't truly trust others, it speaks volumes.

The first time he let you, you were barely putting any pressure and he grabbed your hand in his and showed you. "You're not gonna hurt me, put more force into it, yeah?"

Don't get me started on going out on walks in London with Price, he wraps you up in his beanie and some big leather jacket he has that dwarves you, helping you move through crowds by once again holding the small of your back, or taking your smaller hand in his. (He doesn't correct anyone if they mistake you as married)

He likes to kiss the back of your hand and laughs when it makes you blush and sputter out that his beard is scratchy.

Ghost:

Ghost is a subtle one, he won't actively reach for you or your hand but he does have some part of him against you most times.

Whether it be his leg, arm, or thigh, anything works. A normal place yall will be seen together is in the dining hall, you've both learned to ignore the stares from everyone else.

Simon never eats there, just sits with you until you're finished and then you both move on to either his quarters or somewhere else so he can peel his mask up to eat a bit.

However, while you're eating and telling him about anything under the sun, he'll lean over and wipe some crumbs off of your mouth with his thumb softly, which again, you're used to so okay whatever but Recruits always are taken aback in their seats.

Ghost's reflexes kick into overdrive with you. His hand going to cover a corner of a table 9/10 times before you completely wreck your shit, but when he does miss (sometimes on purpose).

He'll bring a hand up to rub at your head for you, chuckling under his breath before cooing down at you "That hurt pretty? Sure look like it did."

Whenever you two specifically are paired onto a mission, doesn't matter if any of the guys complain, he will share a cot/tent with you. He claims he runs the hottest (he doesn't, it's Johnny but he will not lose on this) and can keep your body the warmest.

He pretty much lugs you on top of him and wraps his arms around your waist, he'll press a hand against your head if you keep fidgeting, rasping at you to go to sleep. He takes great pride in the fact that you're usually out like a light very shortly.

I've said it once and I'll say it again, Ghost likes to hook a finger into your body straps and pull it really hard and let it smack you to get your attention if you're not actively paying attention to him, he'll soothe the area but he's smirking behind that fucking mask.

On that note, he definitely does the "You got something right here." And points at your chest and immediately pull up to flick your nose hard as fuck, he KNOWS his own strength but sometimes your eyes water and he immediately feels bad.

Ghost rests his head on your chest a lot, he finds your heartbeat to be soothing and reassuring, also grunts if you don't wrap your arms around him in return, bro literally shoves his head into you and groans

This is a grown man but it's cute so you let it slide bc he'll never ask for it outright, he just assumes you'll cradle his head.

Soap:

Johnny is the most shameless motherfucker here, I'm talking about draping himself over you, grabbing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair, kissing you dangerously close to your lips (it drives the others mad), he's the most unapologetic about it and will gloat to the others.

Manhandler #1, isn't above grabbing you by your hips and picking you up to move you somewhere, he's literally gone and grabbed you from some rookies side to come stand next to him with a smile and you're just so used to it that you just shrug and go along with it. (He gets slightly jealous, why would you stand next to some random ass dude and not him??)

Throws you over his shoulder, or likes you to cling to his front or his back and just carries you, he says it's a comfortable weight. If you ever dare say you're too heavy, he's gonna go to the gym and work out even more to PROVE to you that he simply doesn't care, he will carry you.

Extremely bad habit of sneaking into your room to fall asleep with you, Price has come into your room many times to see Soap sprawled on top of you, he's drooling and snoring and you're knocked the fuck out (he's like a glorified weighted blanket).

I've touched on this before but he only wants you to cut his hair for him, yeah he can go to the barber on base but he much prefers you and loves it when you scratch at his scalp. He also likes to just have his head in between your thighs but that's something else for another time-

Soap specifically slings you over his shoulder a lot, especially off base where he truly doesn't have any fucks to give.

You're not going to bed because you have other work?? Too bad, shoulder time you go. You're not willing to get up and make yourself food? Good thing he's here, either pick what you want from the kitchen or throw some clothes on bc he IS dragging you out of the house.

Johnny likes to draw on you a lot, it ranges from scribbles, to sometimes his name if he's feeling cheeky (he's drawn it on your thigh before and you didn't notice until Gaz shot you a look), to intricate drawings of whatever he can think whether it be a landscape or an animal.

He always holds you steady and it isn't uncommon for your limbs to fall asleep but it's worth it, if only to see him smile.

Gaz:

Gaz is probably the most secretly clingy person out of the four, he CAN function without your touch but does he PREFER to? No.

His first instinct in any situation is to grab you and shield you, he's the fastest of the four so his body moves without thinking and it's saved you more times than any of you would like to count.

The one mission where you both fell out of a moving truck, he tucked your body into his despite it costing him his shoulder popping out of the socket, you couldn't help but freak out while Ghost moved to pop it back into place.

"Why the fuck would you do that? Look at your arm!" "It's nothing." "Garrick what the fuck-"

When you're out anywhere off base, he's holding your hand, good luck trying to pull away bc he is not letting go. Too bad so sad, resign to your fate.

I think Gaz is definitely good at dancing, at least with you and when the right music is on, you cannot tell me this man wouldn't twirl you around and shit-fight me on it. He'll even lift you off your feet, laughing when you scramble to grab at his shoulders.

He goes stark still if you rest your head on his shoulder, not because he's nervous but because he's worried about waking you up when he knows you deserve a rest.

He'll usually wrap his arm around your shoulder to hold you in place so the heli ride doesn't jostle you so much, gentleness rubbing his knuckles along your arm to soothe you.

Gaz is the one who holds you when you have nightmares, on rare occasions when Soap isn't in your room and you just need to be held with no talking, you always without thinking find yourself in Kyle's room, his arms wrapped around your waist as he tucks your head under his chin, no questions asked.

He'll maybe hum a tune to help you relax but other than that, he lets you lead the way.

[iceunhie]

[ 3 + 1 ].

premise. in which entails your daily life being in a relationship with the one and only eccentric wanderer. (alternatively: wanderer's love for you comes in many forms. you welcome them all the same.)

warnings: established relationship, hurt-comfort, slice of life, wanderer is called kuni. jealousy (wanderer), angst. FLUFF fluff fluff. wanhida family goals

a/n: ITS SCARAMOUCHE WANDERER SEASON his event broke me btw [in tears]

BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX !

# observation one: unconventionally clingy

early on in your relationship, this side of the wanderer remains quite privy to himself alone. this is because he has a very, very uncanny similarity to an aggressive and guarded cat that hisses when given an ounce of affection.

this does not mean he doesn't like your outlandish and grand displays of affection, though; its actually the opposite. (LOL)

the true crux of the matter lies in his inability to let down his guarded pride to admit that he thinks your affection is his lifeblood. (basically, “ew, affection... do it again”)

he's a menace (affectionate), and if you were one for critiquing that aspect of his character, you wouldn't have been in a relationship with him by now, anyway.

however—there is always a however when it comes to him—this does not mean that wanderer doesn't come across points of anxiousness over the fact that his less than affable personality may be something you will grow sick of one day.

he knows he isn't the best choice of a romantic partner; seriously, what were you even thinking... but when he establishes that you are indeed now an irreplaceable part of his life (which will take a long time, good luck), he clings to you with a fierce desperation underneath all that thorn and bristle.

this is part of his visceral fear of abandonment—you are the one thing that he adores, cares for with his entire being (nahida as a close second), and to watch you slip away from him due to his own misgivings will spell out a death sentence for him.

(so please, treat him gently; cradle his cracked palms and broken psyche, and slowly, emphasis on slowly, but surely, he will learn to return in kind.)

this ‘clinginess’ comes forth in his proximity to you. once he has felt comfortable with your relationship, wanderer is quite unafraid to show how touchy he is in his own way.

whether that is to get groceries in your shared home, following after you like a second shadow when you go to the grand bazaar, or even shooing away people that harass you (tba), the wanderer's gaze and all his efforts are always directed to your will.

(you dubbed this as ‘scary cat boyfriend privilege’—and are rewarded with a painful flick to the forehead. ouch.)

—☆★☆—

“where are you going?” the slender hand that stops you from leaving your comfy bed does little to help your need to fall back into the blissful arms of sleep.

“just going to go get some water, kuni.”

waking up to the sight of the wanderer in all his divine glory certainly isn't one of the things you expected in your life, but you welcome it all the same. leaving a simple kiss to his forehead, you pry your hand away with a gentleness you reserve only for him.

he flushes, a lovely red adorning cheeks, to the span of his neck. oh, how you love seeing him melt.

“you won't take too long?”

he doesn't need to breathe, but he sucks in a breath anyway, face twisting to a deep set frown—your telltale sign that your kunikuzushi had a nightmare.

an unanswered question. you won't leave?

your hand caresses the silky soft strands of his purple hair, that in which wanderer nuzzles into. he doesn't seem keen on telling you, and you respect that. you'd wait for him as long as he'd like.

“of course i will. not going anywhere, silly.”

why would i? you convey in that same gesture. i love you.

the tightness of his face relaxes, his grip on your hand loosening. right—you weren't. (you were not going to abandon him.)

“hurry up and come back, then. it's far too early.” his voice is still thick with sleep, though that doesn't temper his signature sass at all.

i love you too. goes unsaid.

your grin sharpens, teasing. “aww, don't miss me too much, okay?”

anddd there's the signature scowl. “...never mind, don't come back.”

“hey!”

shuffling to hide his face from you, wanderer sports a genuine smile, hidden from your sight.

because in your presence, the wanderer stills, and all thoughts of a doomed eternity fall short of how he commits himself to you—wanderer loves and loves, loves you, for you nestle in the space his heart was meant to be, holding onto the mere wisps of your identity and weaving it into the mosaic of his soul.

it's silent save for when you plop yourself back to the bed, bearhugging wanderer and complaining about waking up early again because you stayed up all night playing tcg with him. (he's at 10 wins and 5 losses and he was not going to be caught lacking).

“you do realize that's entirely your fault, right?” he gloats. “it's not my fault my card bested that lawachurl of yours.”

“what?! no way, mister! my all geo team is still superior, mind you-”

once, wanderer wondered about the concept of infinity.

everlasting devotion. of unabashed care and trust. as he listens to your ramblings as the night falls to day, he figures that what you currently share fits that concept just fine.

# observation two: (very) jealous tendencies

it isn't in wanderer's intention to be jealous. well, so he says.

really, he isn't! after all, what was there to be jealous of? absurd! looks, intellect, an extensive range of vocabulary not limited to insults and creative verbal attacks; wanderer boasts quite the sizable number of pros that get most people falling at his feet. (his outward personality leaves much to be desired, however, but his snark does have a certain charm. probably).

and of all the bashful akademiya seniors and well-intentioned young women (and men), you managed to get into a relationship with this black cat of a derisive puppet. this is an achievement worthy of celebration, for not just anyone can take the wanderer and burrow into his many, many guarded walls and claim the title of being his lover.

yet, wanderer is the more jealous one in the relationship.

he knows that you won't cheat on him, and trusts that you won't look at others in such a way. but still, your boyfriend can't help but doubt. be patient when working out his jealousy, for it is a double edged sword—on one hand, wanderer was so adorable when he was jealous; sulky, clingy, hot you name it! and it was very flattering, knowing that he loved you enough to want to keep you all to himself.

but, the other side was quite... a piece of work. should you attempt to tease him about such a thing, it ends in three ways. one, him flying off to god knows where and leaving you alone (😐), two, restricting you from hugging and giving him affection (😭), and worse, giving you the silent treatment (😨). choose your ammunition wisely.

and from this, be prepared for the wanderer to monopolize your attention all to himself— with said admirers mysteriously off the grid or too afraid to approach you for fear of his wrath. i'll say it once: a jealous wanderer is a force to be reckoned with. (and we love him for it)

(he was chided endlessly by nahida for this; “you're scaring all the researchers that want to do a thesis review with [name]!” she says.

a sly smirk was his only reply).

—☆★☆—

“what, and here i thought he had more bark left in him.” wanderer huffs haughtily, with the researcher dashing away as if his life depended on it.

“you'll get scolded by nahida again, you know. i don't think the dendro archon's trusted aide should boast a terrifying reputation.”

he snorts. “lesser lord kusanali has better things to do than chide me for harassment.”

“but you don't have better things to do than scaring away poor kimiya?”

that gets you an eye roll that could reach massive highs of ‘what about it?’ from your boyfriend. “you're overthinking.” (translation: you're right).

“uh huh, sure i am.”

“whatever. who you talk to and interact with is none of my concern. it's not like i care about such things anyway.” he retorts. “i'm not possessive.”

so he says. “by the way, his pickup line was pathetic—‘are you anemo because your beauty blows me away’? atrocious.”

your eyebrow raises in return. really, who was speaking about “not caring” and then judging right after? well, it's fine because he was kinda right.... cyno would definitely get along with that guy.

“it was sincere! i think he has to be commended for his efforts, no?”

“you call that effort?” his face scrunches to a dissatisfied frown.

kinoya, kimiya—he doesn't even remember his name anymore. wanderer doesn't care for those that waste his time, and more especially to those that attempt to get close to you in particular. honestly, what a cheap trick.

and you! you were seriously humoring that moony researcher earlier. you even smiled at him! wanderer seethes, crossing his arms. “its quite irritating, knowing that they flock to you under the guise of—what was it he said? right, ‘shared academic pursuits.’ it was too obvious.”

“first of all: that's rude, second, he really needed help! anyone would feel sorry for him.” you tut, pinching the smooth of wanderer's palm. you wisely decide not to comment on how he immediately interlocks hands with you.

you snicker. “and he was only asking for advice on his research topic, silly.”

“hah! how nice — you're defending him now.” it's incredible how wanderer has the uncanny ability to be just like an annoyed cat that dunked itself into a bucket of cold water; and the way he frowns at you only makes you let out an even worse fit of laughter.

wanderer drinks in the sound, resonating it with the beat of his soul, your laugh the heartbeat echoing deep within his veins. he is reduced to nothing with you—with you, his face relaxes; wanderer may be indifferent to humans, but with you, your mere existence is enough for him to falter like a human, weaken like a human.

and weakly, perhaps in an attempt to save face, he speaks, “you didn't deny it.”

“deny what?”

“...defending him.” (if he were a cat, his ears would definitely fall flat right now).

you let out another light laugh, but sparing your lover the torment, you cling to the side of his arm instead.

“i never had such intentions.” stating it quite firmly, “i'm only saying that there's no competition to be made, darling.”

he gives you a skeptical look in return. “was there even any?”

“none at all.” you lean closer to him, and the wanderer leans into the touch of your hand on his cheek. “since you're winning.”

the flustered blush you receive and the subconscious squeeze of his hand in yours conveys all you need to say.

that did the trick. wanderer's smile is satisfied—smug. “clearly, you managed to make the right call for once.”

“well, i could hardly resist you.”

afterwards, you note that the wanderer's pace doesn't seem as fast as usual anymore. no matter the jaw dropped stares of others at the two of you cozying up together, he never let go of your hand once.

(the next day, kimiya comes to you with a sheepish smile saying that he'd like to focus on his own without your help.

“was it your doing?” you look at the wanderer by your bedside table fastening his vision in pace, voice deadpanning.

“hah? why would i waste my time over some insignificant mortal?” he replies, but as he's putting on his hat, you see him smile to himself.

that little...)

# observation three: secretly? protective/considerate (green flag!!)

if you ask anyone who knows the wanderer on a personal note, you'd find out that he is, indeed, quite considerate—hidden underneath alllll that snark and aloofness and haughtiness, the wanderer cares for those who have helped him in some way, and with you as his partner (romantic), that care is multiplied tenfold hundredfold.

this quality of his, despite being endearing on paper and practice, is reminiscent of that of an aggressive mother hen; if you count wanderer as a hen that pecks someone incessently to show his care.

he chides you like an exasperated young maiden, but the soft way he handles your bruised arm littered with injuries from your recent run in with some strange fontainian seahorse contradicts his harsh scoldings.

(“bested by a fish? are you serious?”

“excuse you, i needed to get it's horns for materials, okay?!”

“...remind me why i'm stuck with an idiot for a companion.”

“uh, because i have a great personality, and you love me?”

“a decision i've made that's quite hard to defend, honestly.”

you stick your tongue out at him. yes, his habits also become yours.)

or how he tells you you're hopeless at cooking, but always manages to excuse himself to cook for you the moment he notices even the slightest decline in your health. one concern though; he throws the bento towards your head—so minus points for domesticity. (...he has cut heart shapes into the vegetables before and has never been the same since.)

if there's anything you can count wanderer for, he will do it. you could ask him to attempt to pluck the very fabric of reality for you, string together the stars and leave them at your feet, and he will do so, huffing all the while (he never means it). he's just smitten like that; not that he would ever verbalize it—yet. his hushed and vulnerable whispers of asking you to let him stay by your side are your closest road to his admittance.

he will not serenade you with ‘shallow declarations of love,’ as he tells you, but you know that he will always be there for you, for better or for worse.

—☆★☆—

fury is an emotion wanderer was once very accustomed to—it reminds him of electric violet, of three betrayals and of yearning for a constitution he was never fated to reach.

and fury tugs at the strings of his being the moment he sees the droplets of tears fall from your eyes, blurring your vision.

“who did it?” something bitter and violent manifests in his countenance, his vision pulsing angrily with gales threatening to harm. (it does not harm you, though. it never does.) “who did this to you?”

his grip on your shoulders tightens the more you refuse to answer, both from anger and fear. you're never this silent; and his panic increases when you opt to bury yourself in his neck. wanderer sighs.

“hey. i'm asking who made you cry like this, idiot.”

“...”

“fine, i won't call you an idiot, then.” but impatient way he speaks the syllables that make your name betrays his worry. “just talk to me.”

“...can we just stay here like this?”

“....”

“sorry, that was a little-” you say, voice strained, pulling away; but the wanderer tugs you close, allowing you to hide from the world that seems so out to get you. (he knows that feeling well, after all.)

it's he who entangles himself with you, listening to the steady rise of your heartbeat, wiping away your tears.

“i didn't say you couldn't hug me, stupid. it's fine. do as you like.”

if it were a person that did this to you, that would've been better murder was never really out of the table with him, but when faced with something he is unable to solve for you; whether it be a bad day, bad luck, or even something he cannot control, wanderer finds himself at a loss.

because the concept of love, with you, is foreign—terrifying, even. betrayal and scorn were his guiding compass, and to be rid of it and to be seen by you, held by you, and to know that you were not going to follow in the footsteps of those he once clung to was far too good to believe. (yet he tries. for you.)

returning your embrace only passively, he tries to scramble for words of comfort—and when he fails to find the nerve to do so, he does the only thing he can allow himself to do.

with the kindness and gentleness he fostered (still fosters, thanks to you) from his memories as the kabukimono, the wanderer holds you, if only to remind himself of his place by your side, unchanging and adamant—as you remind him of his place beside yours.

he leads you to calm yourself down, albeit roughly as he tells you to stop fussing over trying to help him get you something wipe your tears with—and for all his flushed visage, he lets you cling to him, seeking his comfort.

i'm here, it goes unsaid. wanderer knows you'd pick up on it anyway. please talk to me.

(“if i die from this, i'll come haunt you as a ghost.” you shake like a leaf in his arms, clutched tight and staring at anywhere but the ground. who comforts someone by putting them almost 80 feet up in the air? heights are so not your thing.

“like i'd let you.” wanderer says, rolling his eyes. “and you're shaking too much. just keep your eyes on me, will you?”

“...was that flirting?”

“i will drop you.”

“wait, i'm kidding!” a particular breeze leaves you in goosebumps, with wanderer tightening his grip on you. “don't let me fall, please?”

“are you stupid?” he snaps, but urges you to look at the sight of the sunset on the horizon. his hold is more gentle this time, too. “why would i let you fall? now stop shaking and hold on to me.”

you think you fell just a little harder for him that day.)

—and if you decide to press a kiss to the back of his nape as a way of thanks, you're rewarded with a playful gale and a little zap to deter you in response.

“watch it, [name].” he says, but the shifty eyed way he doesn't meet your eyes isn't fooling anyone here; neither is the red on his cheeks. “you're too close.”

“hehe, sorry, sorry, couldn't resist.”

nonetheless. he supposes the growing smile on your face in place of your tears are sufficient payment for wanderer's efforts. hmph.

he'll let it slide for today.

(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)

# deciding conclusion: totally in love with you (real not clickbait)

saying it outright: being with the wanderer is not a smooth road. it is full of hardships, hurt, and learning. there will be many times when his built in self destruction (read: abandonment issues) will kick in, hurting you in the process.

getting him to say ‘i love you’ will seem impossible at first, and there will be times when his doubt pierces your heart and renders it tattered to pieces. he's doing his best chat, pls help him

he will not be able to utter sweet words of adoration like you do, or return your embrace as easily as you would with him—and there will be many moments when he will feel as if he's not enough.

but nourish your affections, stay consistently by his side, show him that he is worth loving, worth staying for, and like the foundations of a steadily built tower, his trust and love for you too will grow.

(it will sometimes feel tiring, it will feel hopeless, and it's more than what you've bargained for, but it will all be worth it in the end.)

because you know he cares; it's in the way his expression morphs into helplessness when he sees your face fall in an argument, how he doesn't push you away when you kiss him and shower him with hugs, and when his hands lock tightly in yours in a sea of people, with you only in his sights. how his eyes betray him to look at you with fondness and warmth.

(it's wordless whenever wanderer decides to hold you tight at night, hugging you like his last lifeline. especially after a disagreement, with only the quietude of the night to observe.

he said some hurtful words today. that much he knows.

“are you asleep?” his voice is muffled against your shirt, and he may not need to breathe, but he inhales your scent anyway, memorizing the sight of you in his arms like a promise. “...you probably are.”

silence. “i'm sorry.”

“.....”

his lip trembles, his grasp on your arms bruising if not for your non-awareness. there's a wetness growing against your shirt, and small sniffles.

“i'm sorry.” and gently, so gently, wanderer presses his forehead against your shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of your body. “i shouldn't have snapped at you and told you those sorts of things.”

i'm sorry i hurt you.

please stay.

please don't let go of me.

i need you.

i love you.

when morning comes, you wake up to the sight of the wanderer in your bed, face nuzzled in your chest.

there are tearstains on his face.)

getting him to be open and vulnerable is akin to keeping a rusty, torn boat afloat; it will not be easy, no, but you know that he tries, (so very hard) to make it work. that he fights desperately against his own clumsily strung tethers and rebuilds himself anew, if only to understand and perceive you—to love you as you deserve.

and when that time comes, wanderer will cling to you, desperately, completely, and make sure your efforts will never ever make you regret giving him the chance to open up and be with you.

—☆★☆—

“what would happen if we ever broke up?”

dropping such a bombshell in the middle of having the wanderer on your lap was not how he thought things would go to, granted how pleasant the atmosphere was—he'd agreed to going on a much needed date (your words) with you after lesser lord kusanali had just graded him on one of his essay papers. (he got an a, obviously)

you don't think you've ever seen such a distraught look cross wanderer's face—aside from the time you finally beat him at tcg (5 out of 4); and you've never seen him look so angry either.

rather, he looked scared.

“what brought this idea on?” he tries to lodge out the words, trying to act coherent. but underneath, a storm brews—his hands are shaking. wanderer feels like he's swallowed a bag full of needles.

am i not doing enough? was i too harsh on them when i scolded them for fighting that damn mechanical desert robot? he's scared. or... do they really....

the mere idea of you being tired of him—sick of him, and ready to leave him behind leaves an ugly, disgusting feeling. like acid on his skin.

perhaps, you don't love him anymore? wanderer panics, senses going overdrive. was it that argument months ago when he hurt your feelings? he knows you know he apologized, and he's doing everything in his power to make sure he wasn't repeating that mistake anymore—but why would you say this out of nowhere?

or maybe it's because he didn't notice you feeling uncomfortable in your relationship? no, you would have definitely told him if so. then what is it? you don't just say things like this out of nowhere so seriously-

“i mean... at this point, i think i wouldn't ever want to break up with you.”

“...what?” wanderer blinks.

“you heard me.” cupping the sides of his face with your hands, you restate your words with more vigor. eyes determined. “i don't think i've ever loved someone so much as i love you. heck, not even close! kuni, if we break up, i might actually never recover.”

and the wanderer falls. how could you even say such a thing?

“that's... you're shameless.” he states it like an insult, but his hands go up to hide his eyes, hiding his embarrassment from your romantic words. “why would you even say something so out of pocket like that? you utter fool. you almost made me think i-”

- would lose you. even thinking it made him feel nauseous.

“why are we still dating then? but really, i mean it. i love you too much.” you coo, and that, in return, leads the wanderer to release an exasperated, weary sigh. if he were human, he's sure his blood pressure would never be normal because of you.

but contrary to his attitude, he relaxes his face and allows you to hold him. lightens up, even. you continue, rambling on, “be honest, you know you love me.”

“unfortunately.”

and that brings out such a bright and dazzling smile on your face that the puppets sarcastic smile is replaced by a real one when you huff and smack at his head. (all is well.)

“you're so unromantic.”

indeed, being with this strange, eccentric puppet was certainly a challenge in more ways than one. nonetheless, you know he cherishes you—because with you, the wanderer is different. he's bristly, infuriating, and honestly a pain (lovingly), but he cares for you.

he tells you to stop ogling at his pretty face and do the dishes, yet he never minds the attention at all. he tells you that you were a fool for accidentally getting yourself injured by eremites because you wanted to save some fungi, but follows you anyway and makes sure no one messes with you.

he says he probably wouldn't miss you while you're gone, but is always the first person you see when you return to sumeru city. it's these little things that make you love him, and you know the feeling is mutual—even if he'll act indifferent about it in the meantime.

“hey, kuni?”

wanderer's eyes are closed, serene. once he knew that you were not, in fact, going to break up with him, he relishes the feeling of his head resting on your lap. it was safe, warm, and everything to him; but he'd rather let the world burn before he tells you. “what?”

“thank you for letting me love you.”

....

“...idiot.” is all he says. you can feel him shift to the side so you won't see his face. “you don't have to thank me for that. that's so sappy...”

(and if you ever saw the slight sheen of glossiness in his eyes, you keep it to yourself.)

i should be thanking you. he thinks instead. i'm glad you love me.

so many things pop up in his head for this, so many unspoken words—and he may not be able to convey such things to you; he might never be able to, but you know that he loves, loves, and adores you.

because you accepted his past, his sins and his imperfections and treated him with tenderness and care. and you know that no matter how many sides of the wanderer you have yet to explore, you will love each one.

and that is enough for him to never let go.

a/n: IM CRYING I FINISHED THIS RIGHT ON TIME AFTER HIS EVENT and his growth has come so far,,, so proud of him 🥹

[00kittenz]

── “ just an extension cord. ” ( yjw ) 🎮

๑ When you can’t tell if Jungwon’s actually upset with you for ruining his livestream or.. nah, he’s grateful. At least you like to think so.

pair: gamer bf!jungwon ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, pwp, blowjobs and handjobs on stream, raw s.x (DONT TRY THIS AT HOME KIDS !!), clit tease, revenge, giggly jungwon, thigh riding, light degradation, oral (f. rec), quick humour, sudden phone calls ?? | words: 2.2k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“sunghoon ! god, you’re such a fucking dumbass.” the heated boy rolled his eyes, watching the ‘you lose’ sign appear on his screen. “good fucking game you ding dong.” he groaned loudly, frustrated to the core. everyone in jungwon’s stream knew him as a top tier player, losing made him feel like he let them all down, even though his fans would continue to cheer him on.

luv4evaaa: you got it next game jungwon, fighting !! ♡♡

takenbytheonenonlytoji: agh, how can someone still be so cute when they’re angry ㅠㅠ

jungwonsusedsock: he said ding dong !! HAJHJAHAHH (⁠ﾉ⁠≧⁠∇⁠≦⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠ ⁠ﾐ⁠ ⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

chewybiscuits: hoon and wonie give off such funny sibling vibes i love them sm.. *sigh..* (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠)

jungswrld: good game won !! you did your best that’s all that matters !!!

๑ ๑ ๑

his pupils scanned the screen giggling here and there from their remarks. even so, he still wanted to beat sunghoon’s ass for making him lose. “bro it wasn’t my fault ! we were surrounded !!” jungwon stared straight into the camera in disbelief, as if sunghoon could see. “since when was a 2v2 called being SURROUNDED ?” jungwon scoffed taking a sip from his sponsored energy drink. “ready up.”

๑ ๑ ๑

you could hear jungwon yelling and raging in the room down the hall of your shared one, spewing all types of curses and profanities. “such a baby..” you chuckled to yourself. you couldn’t lie, jungwon angry ? definitely had you on the sheets with your legs spread open. if you know you know. and this seems to be one of those situations, although, this time a little flick and rub won’t cut it. his fans knew he had a girlfriend, he introduced you anytime he got a chance. this time however, you wanted to avoid all of that and just get to business. now was the perfect time for that. it was dark meaning the only thing that was lit in his gaming room was his PC.

for some reason his door was open, which explained why you could hear him so clearly. you were supposed to be sneaking in, which meant it was time to go spy kids on his ass ! next thing you knew you were on all fours, like a kitten, crawling your way into his room slowly.. you knew he wouldn’t be able to hear you, but his stream would, so you had to stop every moment it’d go quiet. i guess we could say this mission was about 3 minutes long. anyway, you were under his desk which was all that mattered. you knew he had known you were under there, you’d accidentally bumped his foot trying to lower yourself down on your knees.

which took jungwon by surprise. he screamed, reacting hella dramatically. “what the fuck !” he snatched his headphones off his head pushing back from his desk to scan the area. “bro ? you good ? what’s up?” sunghoon checked on the yelping boy. once he’d seen it was you, holding up a finger to your lips indicating him to keep from telling them you’re currently in the room with him, he’d calmed down, a hand on his heaving chest.

no.1gojostan: ayo ? ┐⁠(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠)⁠┌

iloveboobss69420: AHAHAA WTF ?! UHM ? YOU OKAY ?

lightyagamismom: i rebuke, in the name of heeseung’s booty hairs. ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡ SAVE, HIM.

“naah, i’m good, just one of my extension cords grazed my leg. thought it was a spider or some shit.” jungwon quickly conjured up a lie, putting his headset back on. he wondered what you were doing down there, and the answer was nothing cause you were attempting to keep your laughter in. his eyes glanced at your sitting figure before looking back at the screen. reading, his eyes dashed through his comments.

“damn, it must’ve had you scared then, i promise you it’s just a cord. don’t need to keep checking kiddo.” sunghoon laughed through his mic.

“haha, funny.” jungwon ran around the map shooting sunghoon.

“stop it ! you’re such a dick !” sunghoon cried.

when you felt that the situation from before had calmed down, you started what you’d planned to do before even coming in this chatty room in the first place. your hands slid slowly against his calves, caressing them over the gray nike sweats he had on. jungwon wanted to look at you so bad, he really did. but to raise suspicion? he’d rather not. although he’d love to show everyone what he could do to you. he’d spare his little fans the sore sight.

continuing, you wrapped your arms around his waist with your head in his lap, hands caressing his lower backside. you could feel his growing bulge on your cheek, your lips coming down to kiss him over his clothed area. jungwon’s body had shivers, tensing up at the very feel of you, he’d gone completely mute from your touch. making him cough out of nervousness.

“jungwon, let’s go north, the leopard villa” sunghoon spun. he tried his best to keep his composure, thinking of ways to help the situation— ending his live abruptly? he would if he could. yet, it just wasn’t normal for him, he could stream for hours on end without any interruptions, his fans would worry if that happened.

“mmhm, good idea, for once..” he tempered a light groan.

while he spoke you’d been busy pulling his waistband down slightly enough for you to bring his shaft into view. the boy pursed his lips feeling your touch on his hard. your hands massaged him slowly, giving it a couple light strokes until it’s been replaced by your salivated mouth. you were limited to a slow pace, that was unless you wanted to be heard. starting off with the tip, your tongue slid across the red texture. you loved his tip the most when it came to his cock, for some reason it was the most satisfying part to mingle with, and it came with different amounts of surprises everytime you greeted it.

“fuck..” he muttered under his breath, he was battling with himself, it was like he was hit with this annoying need to lean back. your head bobbed up and down around his thickness, you were annoyed with the pace, so you quickened it juuuust a little bit, a gag was held at the back of your throat at he pushed on your tonsils.

his breathing was mid hoarse, but who could blame him. poor thing :((

chewybiscuits: urmmm.. is he okay ??.. *worry worry*

munch12340: hey bro ? you don’t sound too well..

catboyjungwon: wait, what happened ???

jungwon’s eyes immediately went to the chat. he felt his reactions weren’t concealed enough, scared that it might look too obvious what he’s currently up to. “hey chat.. i-.. yeah, i’m okay, my stomach just started paining.. badly..” his hand flew to your head as if he was touching his stomach. “damn it, i’m gonna end it here, i’m not.. feeling okay” he lied, sweat beading from his forehead.

“hoon, i’ll see you.. tomorrow? jungwon nation, goodnight ! rest well ! or good day, i dunno. bye !!” he rambled, mustering a quick bye to his friend and fans before quickly turning off his stream.

he immediately let out a moan of relief, “couldn’t have waited ? needy slut.” jungwon thrusted his hips into your mouth. this time, you were more than audible, he could feel the vibrations of your vocal before you pulled from him with a loud pop.

“are you mad at me ?,” you pouted at him teasily, your hands fondling his balls.

“tch.” jungwon scoffed, pulling you into his lap.

“so, no ?” you played with his hair, riding his thighs slowly.

“so, no?” he playfully mocked you. he loved the way you looked getting off on him, he loved the sight of you in pleasure. your gentle moaning snatching him of his sanity.

he took your hips in his grasp heaving you over his length, jerking himself before closing the gap between the two of you, all he had to do was move your panties to the side since you were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts. both moaning in sync at the tight fit.

“so big.. so full...mmh..” you cried, wrapping your arms around his neck.

his hands found the flesh of your ass, guiding it into movement after slapping it once, or twice. throwing his head back at the feel. “god.. that’s right squeeze this dick baby..” he let go, pulling your shirt from it’s hem, throwing it off of your pure body. as you found it in you to bounce at a quicker pace allowing him to see your bare tits move in following.

the feel of your clit rubbing against his lower brung your high closer and closer. “fuck, so good..” your voice shakes when you clench around him. he immediately captures your lips in his.

it was as if he hoped to taste your juices through your mouth. the moment your high hit, so did his, you sat soaking his shaft— not to mention his clothes.

“you’re so fucking hot..” he panted against your mouth, picking you up and bringing you into the room next of yours before collapsing onto your figure when you’d settled back in bed.

“gonna fuck the shit out of this tight little cunt. ” he continued, “gonna fuck you so dumb.”

and he did just that, ruining you. he pumped his thick cock into your crying pussy like he depended on it. he wanted you to know you were his and his only.

“o-ahmm-,” you sighed, “jungwonnie.. so good, so good..” your left hand covered your eyes as the other went to play with your clit. the impact of his thrusting left you feeling numb.

“feels good, right ?” he chuckled at your pitiful state, he could feel you shaking beneath him.

“did i fuck this little cunt stupid ?” his body hovered over you slapping your thigh. “i did, didn’t i ?” he growls feeling himself throb inside you. your moaning and whining filled the room for a while, that was until you felt your high hit before you could even announce it.

“shit !..j-jungwon..” you panted heavily, grinding yourself on his paused figure. the pressure you had sitting on your clit drove you crazy.

jungwon pulled out, his length rubbed your folds. watching you squirm under him, he never understood the concept of shaking orgasms, but he liked to see it, he thought it looked the best on you.

“you’re so stinking cute, you know ?” his hands pleasured himself once he felt a knot flowing through his lower. coating your pretty, soaked, pussy in his pool of white.

“fuck..” he looked at you, seeing your furrowed brows looking at his phone that rang beside you. “who’s it ?” you picked it up feeling the weight of the bed shift as you read the caller ID.

“sunghoon ??” you spoke through a moan, his tongue dancing around your bud.

“answer it, princess” he says while going down on you.

“but he’ll-” he nibbled at the side of your folds.

“go on. put it on speaker.” and so you did, trying your best to keep the moaning to a minimum.

“sunghoon ?”

“y/n, hey how are you girl ! oh my gosh !”

you muster a laugh over the feeling you got between your legs. you knew sunghoon only did that high-pitched voice when you called. jungwon internally cringed..

“hi sunghoon ! what’s up?”

“not much, just checking on jungwon, he okay ? sounded like he was in pretty bad shape earlier.” he sounded genuinely concerned which made you feel a tad bit guilty— but not really.

“oh- he’s fine ..!”

now it was jungwon’s turn to take this time to put you in his shoes, he fastened the pace he put on your pussy, sucking, and kissing it’s clit before sliding his paired fingers in. he’s just getting his lick back, quite literally.

he watches you throw your hand over your mouth, arching your back at the feel of his fingers pushing into you.

“ah, good to hear then, i was thinking about coming over in a few, is that fine ? orr…”

it wouldn’t seem right if you said no, sunghoon was always welcome !

“i-.. sure, yeah ! mh.. you never have to ask.. you know that !” you felt your second high approaching, biting down on your lip to compress it..

“yeah well, i wouldn’t wanna disturb anything, i’ll be there soon, with takeout !”

“cool then ! call us when you arrive !”

“yeah, hopefully jungwon won’t be all up in your guts the next time i call, right ? ya’ll some freaks for real.”

he hung up after hearing you hum an awkward yes. you could hear jungwon laughing, retrieving his fingers from your wetness. “it’s not funny ! it’s not like you told me to stop when i went under your desk !” you whined.

“you didn’t tell me to stop either.” he looks at you with the most shit eating grin once he got closer to your face, peppering kisses on your cheeks.

“god you’re so embarrassing, and he’s coming over..” you’d rather hide in your closet until you could feel narnia arriving to snatch you from behind than see sunghoon face to face.

“it’s not that bad, at least he knows i treat you right !” he fails to make you feel any better, making you hit his chest, his laugh echoing through the room again.

“move you whore, i gotta pee.” you hear the doorbell ring, causing you to jump up and shriek. you quickly run into the bathroom closing it after yourself.

“i guess i’ll get it” the overall happy boy walks through the marbled floors.

once making it to the door, he’s met with sunghoon’s face, with some.. look ? plastered across it, whatever it was, jungwon bursted of laughter yet again.

i may or may not have got a teensy bit carried away w this one hehehe, also thnx sm for 130+ follows btww !! (⁠/⁠^⁠-⁠^⁠(⁠^⁠ ⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠/

[bittersw33t-lotus]

Surprise

Ghosting pt. 1

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader

Cw: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion, angst, arguments, abandonment, younger Simon, story takes place when he’s 25 and you’re 23.

Part 2 here

“kids?”

“What about them?”

“Would you ever want any?”

It was yours and Simon your one year anniversary. It was nothing special, just some takeout and card games with a movie playing in the back. You don’t know how the conversation of your futures came to be but you both knew it had to be said at some point in your relationship. You asked what Simon planned to do once he got older and retired from the military. He asked you questions about your plans as you grew older. That’s when you decided to be the one to bring up the very question that tends to either strain or strengthen a relation, children.

“No. Hard pass. I don’t do well with them nor do I want any of my own.” He never meant to say it with such a rude tone but It didn’t bother you much. You knew that there was a deeper reason why with the way his brows furrowed and the tension in the shoulders. You wanted him to elaborate more but you decided against it.

“Yeah I’m not too keen on children. At least right now anyways.” You said placing down your card on the table as Simon continued to examine his cards to find a way to defeat you. He looked at you as you spoke your last words as you kept your eyes on your cards. You liked kids to a certain extent and wouldn’t mind one later on in your life as you settle down or just none at all. You tried not to let Simons words get to you, since you don’t mind a childless life, as long as you had Simon by your side, but sometimes there would be days where you felt lonely without Simon when he’s deployed to his job. There’s also days where you fear he’ll never come back home and you’d be left with nothing to remember him by but memories, pictures and his possessions. A kid would be something that not only would be a piece of him that breathes and moves but they would be the physical embodiment of yours and Simons’ love, something that would keep you two tied to each other.

As nice as a child with Simon would be, you respected his wishes and you would have to come to terms with it. It’ll just be you and Simon, growing old together in a little house on the far side of town where no one can bother you and it’ll just be you, your grumpy (eventual) husband and your animals to keep you company. Yeah, you could live with that.

Hopefully, if he doesn’t die on the job…

“It’ll just be the two of us and a bunch of animals.”

That’s how you’d thought it be. Until it wasn’t.

You sat there on your bed holding the white stick in your hand. The pink plus sign was burning your eyes. You could feel your stomach churning. What the hell were you gonna do? You were panicking. You had been throwing up the past few days, Simon suggested you’d go see a doctor worried you ate something bad or caught some stomach bug but you refused and said you’d be fine thinking it go away within a few days however more things surfaced on your body that caught your attention. You breast grew a cup bigger and felt sore as hell, you assumed it was due to your period, it was due to arrive in a week anyway but you still found it abnormal that your breast swelled up so much. When the week passed you figured it was delayed due to your little stomach bug but another week passed. That’s when the thoughts hit you. You couldn’t be right? There’s no way you could be pregnant. You and Simon were always careful.

That same day of realization you went to the drug store just to be sure. You brought three sticks and each one came out with the same pink plus sign appearing on the little box. What the hell were you gonna do? How were you going to tell Simon? Maybe you don’t. You can just get an abortion and get it over with. Well, maybe it’s best if you tell him either way. But the more you thought about the baby, the more harder it seemed for you to think about getting rid of it.

You never really made your decision on not having kids, you figured that when it happens it happens, but what about now? Simon doesn’t want a baby, but you’re pregnant with the child you created with the love of your life, Yours and Simons baby…

Tears prick your eyes as you stared at the stick. What are you going to do?

Simon was out drinking with his ‘comrades’ so you had some time to yourself before he came back. You needed to plan a time when you’d tell him. But you were beyond terrified. You know having this baby was putting your relationship with Simon at risk. But this was just as much of his doing as yours, but at the same time, your IUD should’ve prevented this from happening.

You tired to gain the courage in the past couple days since you’ve found out, to tell him but you never could. For days Simon could tell something was bothering you, and it wasn’t the sickness you had. It was something that was clouding your mind. He could see in your eyes that something was troubling you.

Simon had just returned to home from the bar, feeling dreadful about having to be deployed once again here in a couple of days, he doesn’t want to leave you. He hates it, he hated leaving you here all alone, he can’t be there to protect you, hold you and love you but his job makes it worth it if it means you get everything you deserve. Even if he isn’t around for long periods at a time.

As he walks into the house you greet him with a smile, he’s a little tipsy but just barely since he still had to drive home, he did enjoy his time with Price, Soap and Gaz though. Even if he didn’t outright admit it.

“How’d it go?” You asked him as you approach him with a small smile. You’re too nervous to give him his usual greeting kiss which made Simon’s suspicions of your worry confirmed.

“It was fine, not too shabby and the boys were okay as usual. I need to ask you something.” He said glancing your direction aa he looks into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind, he cups your face gently as he approached you. He saw your body tense up, you tried to save yourself by quickly relaxing before Simon could see but it was too late, he already did. That was his que. “There’s something bothering you, I can see it. You know you can’t hide things from me and I understand you don’t wanna talk about it but at least let me help you the way you help me.”

Your throat grew dry, ‘Shit.’ You thought. You could feel your anxiety flow through your nerves as your hand began to tremble slightly. Your silence worried Simon. “Yn…” He called out but you stood silent.

‘It’s now or never, i can’t hide this forever, not when I start to show.” You thought, Simons hand gently rubbed your cheekbones which brought your attention back to him. Your teary gaze met his concerned ones. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry…” You quivered out. You tried to keep your composure but the hormones betrayed your body. “For what? What happened love?” He grew more worried as the tears rolled down your face. He wiped them away with his fingers as he cradled your face, as you both stare into the others gaze. “You promise you won’t be mad, I’m scared you’re gonna hate me, leave me and…” You whisper but Simon cuts you off as he leaned down to take your lips into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling away you look at him such vulnerability as you wrap your hands around Simons wrist gently. “I won’t.” He whispers back to you, his eyes filled with concern and love in his eyes. It makes your heart break thinking about what can happen next.

Your breath hitched before you inhaled and closed your eyes leaning into Simons touch. “I’m pregnant…” it was silent for a hot second. You felt his hands stiffen up but quickly relax as he looked a bit surprised. Your IUD should’ve been working, but he can’t blame you, there’s still a small chance.

“Have you made an appointment?” He asked after a long silence.

“For what?” You look up nervously, your guts telling you things were going downhill soon now, it’s too late you’ve already made up your mind.

“To get rid of it.” He asks you confused but something was telling him something else is going on. It was dead silence after that, you didn’t even need to say anything, the look in your eyes were enough to tell Simon what your intentions were. His hands were stiff it almost felt like a mannequins hands were placed on your face but then they were quickly snatched away from your grasp and face. You gasped lightly at the action. He took two long strides away from you, his eyes were slightly wide and had a blank look in them as he stared at you.

You wanted to call out to him but his eyes alone were enough to tell you that he was about to run. Your heart throbbed and your stomach began to churn again. More tears began to flow and obscure your vision. “Simon…” You called out to him, you refrained from walking towards him, terrified that one wrong move and he’d run and leave you in the dust. But it seemed to trigger him.

His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes began to show frustration. “No.” He shook his head as you sobbed. “Dammit yn I thought we established this. You promised!” He began to raise his voice, his fear coming to light. Not only was your relationship beginning to strain but you were planning to bring a child into this world. His child. All he could think about was his father and his family something he doesn’t want to experience or risk history to repeat itself.

“I’m sorry Simon but I never made a promise! But I truly didn’t mean for this to happened but it did and when I thought about having an abortion I couldn’t bear that thought of it. I know what we had in mind was to not have any kids but I can’t bring myself to get rid of our baby.”

“No we agreed that we’d have no kids, for Christ sake, I’m always at base and deployed. I can die and leave you to raise a baby alone. And I’m not ready to care for a baby, nor did I ever plan on having one.” He didn’t yell but his voice sounded distant like he was guarded. Like how he used to be when you first met him back in high school, stiff as a stone with years and layers of built up walls around him to keep anybody out from his heart and mind, a troubled Simon who was haunted by his abusive father wanting to save his mother and brother the ones who are now six feet under. One that took you years to slowly tear down and let him trust you with more than one few but big bumble in the road but in the end you never gave up on him and always stuck by his side. “I can’t do this.” He didn’t sound like your Simon anymore. He sounded like Ghost now. The Ghost he separated you from, the Ghost that was cold hearted and never cared about anything or anyone else but getting his priorities done and missions finished.

Your breath hitched. “What do you mean?” Your voice quivered. Ghost didn’t even bother to answer you he made his way to the bedroom. “Simon please!” You treaded after him, your anxiety surfacing again.

You walked into the bedroom to see him reaching into the closet and pulling out his bag, already packed with all the gears and items he needed for his deployment. Slumping the strap over his shoulder as you watched made your throat tighten.

It was nothing but silence the whole time as you watched Simon pack away a last minute items he’d need. You watched as he began to tie on his boots. “You’re right,” you finally spoke. Your voice soft as you tried not to let out a sob. “You don’t have to do this, you can keep doing what you do. I’ll keep the baby without you.” Simon just sat there listening to you as he kept his gaze glued to the ground. You couldn’t see what he was thinking with his Balaclava on now but you could see his fists clenched tightly. “I won’t make you go through this but just know, I still love you Simon, but I want this baby. You won’t hear from me asking you for anything at all. Just know once you walk out that door. I’ll be gone, unless you say something Simon...” you stand there staring at him hoping he’ll say something… anything. A sliver of wanting to be around at least or try to work something out but you know it’ll never come. He’s Simon, Ghost, he’s not, and may never be, mentally prepared nor does he have a lifestyle fit enough to raise a baby. Without a single noise Simon gets up and walks past you to the bedroom door, you watch his back, he doesn’t spare you a single glance before he walks out without another word.

After a few seconds, you hear his boots stomp down the stairs, the door opening and slamming shut. Your que to finally let all your sobbing out easing the pain in your throat. You sat on the floor holding your stomach. You were really on your own now. Just you and your baby.

You were lucky you managed to gain contact with your older sister, Stacy, she and her husband had welcomed you into their home with no hesitation, surprisingly. Granted you and your sister had some mending to do but it was mostly cause by your parents. Your mother had always founds way to turn you and your sister against one another when you two were younger. You both always fought and tried to better the other for praise of your mother she’d always compared one over the other, “Your sister is skinner than you,” “You eat like a pig, your sister eats better than you,” “your sister this” or “your sister that”. You mother always tried to make you two compete against the other that both physically and mentally damaged you both.

Your father never bothered with you two, you could never talk to him without every conversation ending in a some form of abuse or never in the right mindset being constantly high off his mind with drugs. But as you grew older you began to see the things your mother did to you and your sister but you never took the chance to make amends, your sister met her then boyfriend and ran away with him the first chance she got, you did the same when you met Simon.

“Are you alright?” She approaches you as you got out the car. The moment you came face to face with her you wrapped your arms around her shoulders and brushed into tears. “I’m sorry!” You cried out. “It’s okay.” She hushes you and cradled your head. “No it’s not, I should’ve talked to you, we should’ve made up long ago but I ran off…”

“And so did I!” She cut you off. “I was the one that ran off first, I was the one who left you in the dust for some guy that turned out to be a fraud. I chose a man over my own sister but I was too dumb to see it. We both made mistakes but now that we’re here, let’s take this chance to make it right.” She wiped your tears from your face. “Now tell me what wrong?” She asks you as you take a deep breath. “Simon left me.” You say, your sisters eyes widen in surprise and sympathy. “Well technically I left but we decided that we were through.”

“Why, what happened?” She asks you as she began to guide you to her house. As you make your way in you wipe your eyes as you think about the memory.

“I’m pregnant.” You start off, your sister is caught off guard and stunned, but she doesn’t speak and allows you to continue. “I found out not too long ago.”

You sister looks at you in shock. “Is that why… Simon…” she tries to ask, you know what she’s saying before you nod answering her question.

“Yeah, we’ve had the talk before. We agreed on no kids because he didn’t want any, me, I wasn’t too sure at the time but now, now I know, I do want this kid.” You say as you lay a hand on your stomach. “I don’t know what to do know. I told him and shit just went down hill. He made his choice and I made mine. I left home, he left because he’s currently on deployment but he’s made his choice not to be in the baby’s life. I gave him the choice to leave because I don’t want to force him into this since he never wanted any in the beginning.” You say, you sit on the soft couch as you both settled on conversing in the living room.

“He’s in the military?” She asks him a bit surprised, she’s still trying to process all this new information about your current situation and your now ex-boyfriend.

You nod your head and rub your eyes feeling the fatigue catch up to you from the past couple of days. You’ve nearly gotten a wink of sleep ever since Simon left, the past two days you were packing up all your things that you needed and wanted to take with you into your car, and you were stressing about where’d you go and be staying up until your Stacy, thankfully, responded back to you and offered you a place to stay at her house. “Yeah, he doesn’t tell me much about it. But from what I’ve seen every time he came back, it was always bad. He’d come home with bruises, sometimes wounds that sometimes looked to be fatal. It always scares me every time he goes, and I sometimes never know when he’ll be back, or if he’ll come back at all.” You explain to her. You leave out the part where he’d be a shell of himself, like a ghost possessing Simon, so unemotional, and you can never forget how scary it was seeing how empty his eyes looked sometimes.

Stacy looks at you, she’s processing all this and trying to her best to listen but she can tell that’s it’s a lot for her to take in. You don’t blame her, you two haven’t seen each other er for over five years, so there’s a lot of catching up to do. “I promise you I’ll only be here for a few months. I’ll find a place to stay for the baby and I before they’re born, we’ll be out of your hair soon.” You tell her quickly trying to reassure her that it’s only temporary and you’re not going to take advantage of your sister’s kindness and willing to help you out, you don’t wanna have the burden of having her worry about you and have a baby in the house. You’ve already become enough of a burden for Simon with the baby.

Stacy shakes her head and gently takes your hand and gently squeezes it. “Don’t worry about it. Take as much time as you need to get back on your feet. You got a kid to worry about now. And granted, it may be hard but I believe in you. You’re a strong woman, I know you can get through this, you always do. And even if you don’t, I’ll always be here to help you.” She says as she smiles at you fondly.

You feel so grateful for her. Your hormones have you all over the place both emotionally and physically. You’re on the verge of tears as you engulf Stacy into a hug once again. “Thanks Stac.” You say, your voice threatening to crack into a sob.

Stacy smiles at you and hugs you back. “Don’t thank me, you’re my little sister, family looks out for one another. Real family.”

꧁——————————꧂

Im debating if this series should have a twist to it. So stay tuned :)

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

GhostKing!Maddie

Reveal gone right. Good parents Jack and Maddie.

Danny tells his parents that he’s Phantom and they accept him with open arms and hearts and the willingness to change their views. With this they start their research on Ghost culture, because that’s a part of their baby’s life (afterlife?) now so of course they’re going to make sure they understand their son so as to avoid potential culture clashes in the future.

(Did you know ghosts fight as a form of bonding?! Fascinating!)

At some point in their research they learn that the method of succession for the title of King of the Infinite Realms if for the former king to be defeated in trial by combat.

They learn that Danny defeated the former king tyrant Pariah Dark.

Their little Dann-o is the new King.

But he’s just a baby! Their baby! Cry his parents.

Danny is only 14, going on 15. Even if he’s a teenager he’s still their baby boy, and he is far too young to be forced to deal with politics alongside school and all the other dramas that come with teenagerhood.

They were young once, the Fenton parents remember how major some things were for teenagers and how stressful it could be. And Danny had already been through so much with protecting the town. And they wanted to make up for what they put him through before they knew it was him. Danny says it alright, they didn’t know but they do now and that accept him and that’s what matters! And oh do their hearts ache at the memories of shooting at their son and all the terrible things they said about him while he was right there.

No, they wouldn’t allow their son to deal with everything in his own when they could help him. Somehow. How do they help with this?

Then, Maddie demands an audience with the council. There, declares herself the King.

The Observants argue that she can’t possibly be the King as she is not a ghost, nor did she defeat the previous king to take the title. And anything else that they could use to oppose the idea.

Maddie counters that as her son isn’t even legally old enough to drive yet (the age is 16 in American right?) he cannot take on such responsibilities until he is of a certain age. Jack is nodding along enthusiastically as Maddie verbally eviscerates these floating eyeballs.

Clockwork is smirking in the corner. He likes Phantom’s mother. And he agrees with the Drs Fenton. He backs her up, and says that young Daniel had other pressing matters to attend to and that yes, he is in fact too young for the full responsibilities that come with being the King of the Infinite Realms. He is so young, and still of the living being a halfa that he would require education of the Realms laws before he could officially take up the crown.

But what about Maddie? She’s fully human, how could she possibly be placed in that position then without the same training?

Clockwork smiles as Frosbite or maybe Pandora, one of Danny’s other allies, states that the council could handle things until then, and that they would have had to have waited regardless for Danny to be up to speed before he could feasibly take on the role of King and confidently make decisions without the guidance of the council at every turn. With Maddie as a placeholder she could still sign off on things or act as a figure head, at least until Phantom could take on his role as the fully realised King.

Anyway, Maddie becomes the Ghost King. Or at least temporarily while her baby boy finishes high school and can decide what he wants to do. At least this is one less thing he has to worry about.

This however results in instances of cults and all manner of people trying to summon the Ghost King for one reason or another. But instead they get one Dr Maddie Fenton.

Sometimes it’s some kids that were fooling around at a slumber party, and she warns them on the dangers of summoning unknown entities without doing proper throughout research before hand and ensuring they have the proper protective measures if something were to go wrong.

And then there are cults and magic users and everything in-between that are trying to summon the Ghost King for personal gain.

These individuals are more often than not met with the sight of a bazooka, pulled from seemingly thin air, aimed directly at them as the very ominous sound of the woman counting down echos in the air. The ones with half a brain would book it.

All of this while maintaining the midwestern politeness would be both hilarious and a little ominous.

Then one day the Justice League, or any of the other teams, are breaking up a cult ritual that they got wind of to summon a powerful being for the purpose of destroying something or someone. I’m not to fussed on their motives.

But just before they can stop it the summing is cast and the air is filled with such a heavy sense of forbidding that it makes the hairs on the back of one’s beck stand on end.

The room darkens, the shadows seemingly converging in the centre of the summoning circle. It feels hard to breathe, and there’s a hint of something other in the air around them that just keeps increasing in intensity. It feels like reality is being around them, and just as quickly as it all began a crack appears within the circle. And a toxic green (Lazarus green) glow seems out of it as it opens like the unhinging jaw of a predator. There’s a blinding flash of green and then there is a woman, judging by her build, in a teal spandex suit with goggles fastened on her face.

She scans the room in silence before her eyes falls on the heroes standing in defensive positions before her. The cultists are all tied up or knocked out, or just frozen in place because holy shit the summing worked.

It’s never worked before.

But who is this woman?

And where is the Ghost King?

The head cultist, whom was still yet to be detained, demands to know who she is and where is the Ghost King?!

Maddie smiles as she pulls out her Fenton bazooka and says, “Oh bless your heart, I am the Ghost King!”

Where this goes from here, I’m not sure. This was all I had when is tarted writing this and right now I’m too tired to think. I just hope someone likes it and if you do, feel free to add anything! And if you have any critiques feel free to tell me!

(My apologise if I leave out a chunk of information, I’m writing this in my pyjamas half asleep and just trying to get it all written down. Also I’m not from the US, and haven’t watched Danny Phantom in a hot minute, so if I got something wrong pls forgive me.)

[ervans]

Care for You (Mizu x F!reader)

warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, and violence, soft sex, fingering (r! receiving)

a/n: wow. it's been a minute since i've truly sat down and wrote something. i'm absolutely obsessed with BES and mizu, i haven't felt so passionate about something since TLOU. this is my adaptation of what seems to be the most cliche scenario in this fandom so far: reader finding an injured mizu. i'm a bit rusty when it comes to writing so any and all feedback is welcome and appreciated, follows and notes as well. i have more ideas for works surrounding mizu (including a brothel fic muahahaha) so keep your eyes peeled for my posts :))

The sound of your sandals shuffling against the ground and your heavy pants were the only noises that pierced the otherwise quiet night. The moon, stars, and faint glow of your home in the distance were your only source of light as you trekked up the hill where the soft orange hue was coming from. The walk up this specific hill usually caused you no trouble, having done it dozens of times; however, this time was a tad bit different. Why? The limp, unconscious body that was currently draped over your shoulder.

Earlier in the evening you had heard a commotion down at the lake below the hill your home rested on. It was normal for stragglers, crooks, and opium addicts to travel through this part of Japan and mixing those groups of people usually ended up in some sort of fight. You had paid no mind to the noise, continuing with your cleaning. It wasn’t until you realized you needed more water for your tea that you made your way down the hill. As you reached the shore and saw the mess in front of you your stomach lurched.

Four bodies laid lifeless in front of you on the sand. From what you could tell they all had various stab and slash wounds across their bodies. Fifteen feet away from the tattered bodies lay another smaller one clad in baggy black trousers and stockings, a dark blue haori, and white scarf around his neck with a brown straw hat, round glasses with an orange tinted lens, and a sword, the telltale sign of a samurai on the ground beside him.

 From where you stood you could see his chest still moving as he tried to shallowly breathe in oxygen from the air surrounding his struggling body. That brings you to where you are now, struggling up a damn hill trying to save this unknown samurai’s life. Was he responsible for the four bodies you had pushed into the lake? It didn’t matter to you; you weren’t one to judge in a world where it was kill or be killed.

You push the door to your house open and lay the injured stranger onto your mat near the fire. You start to boil water to disinfect whatever wounds he had and open a drawer to grab a needle and thread just in case stitches were needed. They very much were. You quickly realized the source of what seemed like never-ending blood on the top half of his body as you stripped the bloodstained clothing away. A gash about 4 inches long and deeper than you’d like it to be starting towards the base of his ribcage, skin around it starting to turn a yellowish color. It almost distracted you from the way the stranger was wearing chest wraps. Almost.

You frowned looking down at the shallow breathing of the samurai’s chest. Why would he need chest wraps? You thought, fingers brushing over the once white cloth now stained. Unless? You slowly started to undo the bindings, telling yourself you needed to anyways to properly clean the wound. As the cloth unraveled in your hands your small suspicion was confirmed. Two small breasts sat atop the chest of the slender samurai that laid before you, nipples hardening as they became exposed to the air. Your eyebrows raised, head tilting slightly to the side. A female samurai? How? Questions began to fill your mind as you started to clean the wound, gently washing it with the now hot water. It was unheard of for a woman to even touch a sword as it was said to make the blade impure. Where had this woman gotten her sword? Who did she get taught by? Clearly from the mess on the beach she knew her way around a fight.

You finished cleaning and stitching the larger wound and got to work on disinfecting the smaller cuts and scrapes on the upper half of her body. Once you were satisfied with your work, you began removing the woman’s trousers and stockings, revealing another deep gash running from the top of her knee down to her shin. Sighing you started the same process as her chest and prepared yourself for the unknown amount of time you would be caring for this mysterious female samurai.

════════════════════════════════════════════

It took three days for the samurai to fully regain her consciousness. In those days you had changed the dressings on her wounds, forced broth and water down her throat for some form of sustenance, and carefully studied her whenever you found the chance to. You noticed small things others would easily miss. The way her face seemed like it was always in a permanent frown, her subtly toned muscles from what had to be from years of training, how her calloused hands would twitch in her sleep, stress being the cause of it you had concluded after watching her for a good hour whilst you sipped on your tea, and how insanely handsome she was. Wait what? Handsome? That thought scared you so much that you had refused to watch her for the remainder of the evening besides checking her wounds thoroughly before you went to bed. But you couldn’t ignore those thoughts that plagued your head as your touch lingered for more time than it should’ve.

You were sat cross-legged waiting for your tea to steep when you heard a thud from behind you. Quickly turning around to find what the source of the noise was, you were met with the samurai staring back at you, blue eyes shining in the dimly lit space. And oh, were they blue. You had never seen or known something could be as piercingly blue as the eyes that met yours.

“Who are you? Where am I?” The samurai demanded in a gravelly voice that sent a shiver up your spine. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer right away, mouth slightly agape with shock at the stranger who had, just minutes ago, been passed out. “I asked you a question, now answer it.” She said sternly after a beat of silence between the two of you.

You blinked, raising an eyebrow and rising to your feet. “Well that’s no way to talk to someone who saved your life now is it?”

The woman, stern frown never leaving her features, quickly looked around the room taking in her surroundings. She then looked down at herself, usual blue haori missing and replaced with a softer red one. You hadn’t wanted to leave her bare in the middle of your home and opted to dress her in one of yours while you worked on scrubbing the stains out of hers.

You saw her tentatively try to move, and the flash of pain the appeared on her face for just a second didn’t go unnoticed by you. She pursed her lips and looked back up at you. “Thank you for stitching me up, but I would rather not stay a hostage here any longer. I have more important places to be.”

Your eyes widen and you scoff. “Hostage? Are you fucking serious? By all means you can leave, makes my life ten times easier if you do.” You were lying, you quite enjoyed caring for the handsome samurai, but you would never admit that to her. At least not now. “Good luck walking on that knee by the way, I’m sure it won’t be any trouble for you though.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall as the blue-eyed woman looked you up and down once more before attempting to get up. After a few minutes she was standing, hand against the top of the fireplace to keep her from falling over. You could see her chest rising and falling quickly from the struggle of just standing. She looked back over at you, still leaning with your arms crossed. “Where are my belongings?”

“On the table to your right.” You responded, eyes never leaving hers. You watched her glance over to the table. It was about five feet away; it should’ve been no problem for her to walk over and grab her things. Should’ve. It took her almost ten minutes to reach the edge of the table, her injured leg making it difficult to have a full range of motion. She opted to shuffle inch by inch over to the edge. By the time she got there she was out of breath, looking down at her hands placed on the wood in front of her. You hadn’t moved at all, the only change being your expression shifting from annoyance to amusement as you watched the fit samurai struggle.

After a moment she let out a shaky breath. You saw her knuckles tighten as if she was having an internal battle with herself. “Can you help me back to the mat?” She asked so quietly you almost missed it. You pushed yourself off the wall and walked over to where she stood, taking notice in the way her legs were shaking from lack of use over the past three days. She refused to look at you as you placed her arm over your shoulders and helped guide her back to the mat on the floor. “Thank you.” She muttered.

You looked at her, worry spreading across your features. “Of course. I’m here for anything you need. Consider me your personal caretaker.” You joked. “Although, a good caretaker should know her patients name.” Your words hung in the air for a moment before she responded.

“Mizu.”

════════════════════════════════════════════

It had been three weeks since Mizu had introduced herself to you. She didn’t talk much about her personal life, which you respected, instead filling the silence between the two of you with your own stories from your childhood. In that time her leg wound had been healing considerably quick, mostly due to the bedrest you ordered her to stay on. The only time she was allowed to move her legs was when she needed to relieve herself or when you would do small stretches with her to keep her blood flow moving. After some time, she was able to get up and walk for short periods of time on her own. The only problem with her quick recovery in her leg was the fact that her chest wound had hardly any progress to it.

Since Mizu couldn’t walk for some time, she exerted all her energy to her upper half, much to your dismay. She would sit up on the mat doing stretches on her arms and shoulders, sometimes raising them so far up you were afraid a stitch was going to pop. It did.

Mizu had been practicing arm movements with her sword, stating that “If I want to achieve my goals, my skills must always be honed and sharp.” Bullshit you thought. She just wanted to aggravate you. How could you tell? The small smirk that would grace her lips whenever she went to pick up her sword, even after you told her it was dangerous, and she could hurt herself anymore. Alas, she was a stubborn woman and it’s how you ended up rushing inside from chopping wood after hearing a sharp yelp from inside your home.

She sat on her mat, one hand clutching the spot above her wound while the other reached for the needle and thread you always kept close by. Once you realized she was going to try to stitch herself back up you rushed over to snatch the needle from her hands and straddle her lap, careful of the wound on her knee. She looked startled for a moment before her whole face turned a deep shade of red once she realized the position you both were in. You had a faint blush as well as you plucked the thread from her hand as well.

“I’m not letting you stitch yourself. You’re going to make your injury worse.” You said looking down at her. She looked up at you with those damn blue eyes you could get lost in for ages, cheeks still red but an amused expression on her face.

“You don’t think I know how to stitch myself up?”

You laughed awkwardly. “Well, no. I just…you just…you just popped a stitch by doing something I told you not to do! How can I be sure you’ll do it correctly?!” Mizu laughed. A sound so beautiful you were sure it would play through your mind for months to come. “I guess you have a point. C’mon then doc, fix me up.” She smirked. You felt your face grow even hotter.

Still straddling her you pushed her robe off her shoulders revealing her chest wraps with blood from the reopened wound soaking through them. You gulped. To stitch her back up you’d have to remove her bindings. And this time she was awake. And would definitely take notice in the way your eyes would roam her chest. Sensing your hesitation, she smiled looking up at you. “What? It’s not like you haven’t seen them before, obviously you have, or I wouldn’t have stitches here.” She was teasing you, you realized. “Here I’ll make it easier for you.” Her hand reached around to begin to undo her wraps. You sat there dumbfounded as they fell to the floor and her breasts were exposed to you once again.

“You just gonna stare sweetheart or are you gonna patch me up?” Mizu’s teasing question broke you out of your trance as you swallowed thickly and got to work on restitching her wound. You felt her piercing gaze on you the entire time and did your best to try and ignore the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Later that night after the excitement of the day you sat sipping on your tea while Mizu slept next to the fire. You couldn’t stop thinking about her. Those beautiful blue eyes, the way her lips turned up into a smirk whenever it seemed you were flustered, and the sound of her laugh plagued you. You hadn’t felt like this in a long time.

Suddenly Mizu woke with a gasp, shooting up from the mat. You turned to her startled as you took in her appearance. Eyes wide with fear, chest heaving up and down, and her hands gripping tightly onto her blanket. “Nightmare?” You asked softly as to not startle her even more than she was. She just nodded as she looked at you, eyes bright in the darkness.

You softly rose to your feet, padded over to where was sat up, and sat down next to her. Her eyes had never left your figure as you made your way to her. You looked down at the blanket, then back up to her asking a silent question.

Slowly she lifted the blanket up and laid back down, giving you room to scoot in next to her. You wrapped your arms around her and brought her closer to your chest in the most intimate position the both of you had ever been in. You had never slept as well as you did that night.

════════════════════════════════════════════

It had been four days since Mizu’s nightmare, and every night since then you two had slept together, arms wrapped around each other. The dynamic between you had changed drastically, lingering touches and glances to each other becoming a new normal.

Tonight was no different to the past few. You lay facing Mizu while her back was turned to the fire, tracing circles into her rough and calloused hands. The silence was comfortable, but you chose to break it in that moment.

“When do you think you’ll leave?” A flash of hurt ran across Mizu’s face.

“I can leave whenever you want me to, I think I’m healed enough by now. Would you like me to leave tomorrow?” Your heart clenched at the sadness in her voice. You didn’t want that at all.

“No,” you whispered. “I don’t want you to leave me. Ever.” Her eyes softened, moving closer to you she brushed her nose against yours.

“Then I won’t.”

Your lips met her soft ones in a searing kiss, one that knocked the air right out of your lungs. You let out at soft noise as she titled her head, running her tongue across your bottom lip to deepen the kiss and ask for permission to enter. You parted your mouth for her, tongues running against each other as she rolled on top of you, straddling your hips. Her fingers ran down your sides and under your top, tips of them brushing the underside of your breasts as you pushed your chest up into her, silently asking for more.

She pulled away from the kiss, a trail of spit the only thing keeping you connected, and smiled. “I’m going to need you to tell me you want more. Tell me you want it and I’ll stay.”

You moaned at her words. “Yes! Mizu please I want it, I need you.” She leaned down to kiss you once those words left your lips, fingers moving up to circle and pinch your hardened nipples. You let out a gasp into Mizu’s mouth at the sensation and she smiled into you, moving her head to trail kisses down your face to your neck, sucking a purple mark just below your ear.

You raised your arms over your head as she stripped you of your top, eyes lingering on your now bare breasts. “Beautiful.” Was all she said. You let out a whimper at her words. She kissed down your shoulders to your breasts and licked a long stripe up your nipple, the sensation causing you to moan and buck your hips up into hers. As she continued her assault on your breasts, her hand traveled lower down your stomach and slipped her hand into your trousers to run a finger through your slick folds.

You were a moaning, withering mess below her at this point. Between her mouth on your tits and her finger slowly brushing against your clit, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. “Please Mizu. I need you, please.” You begged, grinding your hips up into her hand hoping she got the message. She did. Slowly she pushed her middle finger into your wet heat, savoring the noise that left your lips as she did. Experimentally she curled her finger, finding that spongy spot at the front of your walls.

It wasn’t enough for you. “More, I need more.” You whimpered. Smiling against your breast, she pushed another finger in, thrusting at a quicker pace. You were close, she could tell by the way your pussy clenched around her digits. You just needed one last thing to push you over the edge. Removing her mouth from your nipple, she brought her forehead against yours admiring the way your mouth was slightly agape and the furrow between your brows.

“Open your eyes. You’re to look at me when you cum.”

At her words and her thumb suddenly circling your clit matching the pace at which she thrust, your eyes shot open meeting her icy blue ones, the last thread keeping you from falling snapping.

“‘m gonna cum Mizu, fuck m’ gonna fuckfuck-“ You were sent over the edge, cunt clenching and gushing around her fingers while your back arched off the mat, eyes never leaving hers as she guided and talked you through it.

As you caught your breath, chest heaving, she peppered soft kisses all over your face causing you to giggle breathlessly. She smiled down at you as you looked up at her still panting. “Give me a second, let me return the favor.” She leaned down capturing your lips once again as she removed her fingers from your core, wiping the slick on her pants and rolling to lay next to you. She pulled you into her chest and nuzzled her nose into your hair.

“You’ve taken care of me these last few weeks, let me take care of you. We have all the time in the world, I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

And Mizu always kept her promises.

[choerypetal]

Hide and Seek / Homelander

(pt 2. of Meet and Greet)

summary ; In part two of the meet and greet, Homelander's obsession reaches new heights, leaving him unsatisfied at his core and willing to do anything to make you his.

!! read part one first! ; !!

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes, xo' (as it will be eventually corrected if needed)

tag list; @private-eye-on-you ; @lins-shenanigans ; @horrorxgorewhore @siredtom ; @certain-tragedies ; @hotchners-wifey ; @naelis-open-sea

enjoy xo'

Homelander's comment, 'You look lovely in the costume,' lingered in your mind for a week. You couldn't escape his presence. His silhouette, his maddeningly perfect face seemed to follow you everywhere—from your usual coffee shop to the special limited editions of The Vought, and even as you continued watching the show for longer periods of time. From Deep's special cupcakes to the coffee most loved by Homelander, his influence was everywhere, not just keeping the city alive but himself as well.

Although you didn't realize it, Homelander had become just as obsessed with you as he was with seeing his own face on the cup you were holding. From a distance, he watched your every move—the way your plump lips touched the cup, how you drank your coffee, and even how you covered his image with your hand. Despite finding your behavior an offense, he knew he’d eventually have to tease about it. The sadistic man that he was, wasn’t afraid to even acknowledge it. Especially during their weekly Seven meetings. 

"So, I suggest we review some new recruits," Ashley said, her nervousness palpable. She wanted to please not only the public but, most importantly, Homelander. This was no easy task given recent events and the current situation. Homelander's obvious boredom showed his lack of interest, and Deep, poor thing, was just as disinterested, staring blankly at the screen and agreeing with whatever Homelander mumbled. However, Deep was secretly relieved not to have any of John’s powers. Especially right now. Because, at that exact moment, it was your face, and your face alone, that occupied his thoughts. Murmuring your name under his breath, he was fortunate not to get caught up in the moment. That of course, when a single cough from Ashley’s mouth was enough to slip his mind elsewhere. 

"You know, Ashley, just pick whoever you think will fit for now. Sign their papers. My brain is going to fucking explode from this hell hole," he said, standing up without even glancing at her. Not even Ashley's whiny complaints about the complications it might cause could stop him. He paused, considering for a moment that she might convince him. "Don't come to me for the next 24 hours," he snapped, his piercing blue eyes conveying a clear threat. When wasn't he a threat, anyway? "Or I'll personally fuck up every single one of you." That was enough to make her quickly nod in response. Poor thing, she only wanted to make him proud. A satisfied grin played on his lips, mirrored by Ashley's, though hers was a little more nervous. His, however, was genuine. 

You, on the other hand, had been fortunate enough not to see Homelander's face for a while. From the bookstore you frequented to the coffee shop, his presence seemed to pervade your life. Your mother didn’t help either, as she insisted on framing a picture of you with him in the living room—a gesture Homelander found endearing. On some nights, he would see you through the window, dressed in your pajamas, reading whatever caught your interest, with that picture always in the background. Unlike Homelander, it haunted your dreams.  

Deep down, Homelander struggled to resist the urge to invade your personal space, not wanting to frighten you. However, when he saw your forced smile at the meet and greet, he was reminded that a smile meant nothing to him. To him and you alone. It was your scent that drove him wild. At first, he considered going undercover, posing as one of your father’s coworkers, but he realized it would be futile. Why cover his own shame, when he could let his ego take it over?

So, he waited until sunrise. When he could finally entered your room, imagining you in your shortest pajamas, which hugged your curves so perfectly, he had to bite his bottom lip to control himself. Just by the thought of his fingers sinking into your flesh as you leaned toward him for more...

"Goodbye, Mom!" Your voice echoed in Homelander's mind as he realized he'd been lurking around your house since last night. He had been trying to dismiss, the missed call records provided by Ashley, however, unable to ignore them. Fortunately, he was hidden well enough that you didn’t notice him as you exited the house.

Your hair meticulously washed, your skin fresh with makeup, and that dress. Never in a thousand years, aside from his own enemies, did Homelander think he would become so obsessed with someone. He wanted to chuckle to himself at the irony, knowing he wasn’t being the most subtle superhero. When your gaze shifted toward his hiding spot, he quickly concealed himself behind a tree, exhaling in relief when you shrugged off the feeling of being watched. You then left for work, something Homelander knew all too well. This also meant he could meet your mother, who, after all, was his biggest fan. 

Fortunately, you managed to get through the day without a single client yelling at you. However, what you didn’t expect was an unexpected visit from the man himself. As you approached the door, you overheard some mumbling. Did your mother have a visitor today? 

And then it hit you.

Hearing the all-too-familiar voice say, "Oh, these look lovely," with a genuine smile, you froze in your tracks. Seeing your mother so happy, even more thrilled than a fangirl, like she’d seen god himself. She noticed you immediately. "My dear! Look who came to visit," she exclaimed, taking you into her arms for a hug. Before you could greet the guest, your eyes met his—Homelander, in your own home. 

"No need for theatrics, ma’am," he said with a casual chuckle, hushed by his own hand as he munched on the cookies your mother had made, casually wiping a droplet of milk with his thumb. Your mother giggled and said, "Mother is the name. We don’t have to get formal, right darling?" You blinked twice, hardly believing what you were hearing. Your mother was genuinely making Homelander feel comfortable, right inside your home. Given what you knew from your coworkers and the constant rumors, it was hard not to be creeped out by the thought that he might have done more than just a knock on the door that evening. Yet, you shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps playing the same game he did might be what he wanted after all. Like a cat and a mouse. 

There was a brief pause, then an idea sparked in your mother’s eyes as she looked at John one last time. "Why don’t you stay for dinner? Tonight is roasted chicken and mashed potatoes." How could he refuse? Spending more time with you was just the beginning of his obsession with protecting you and never letting you out of his sight. He smiled, his grin seemingly bigger than before, and nodded. "If Y/N doesn’t mind?" he said, his gaze shifting to you with a more serious expression. You gulped nervously, knowing you couldn’t just say no. "Yes—yes, of course," you stuttered. Oh, how adorable you looked.

“Then, make yourself at home dear.” 

Dinner was only just a few hours from now, with your father now back from work had asked for a personal photo with the Homelander, and a talk John appreciated more. Considering his own father exiling him completely, it was a breath of fresh air for him, especially when he’d be glancing a few times at you, doing whatever you had in mind before the dinner. “My daughter is going to be working for us,” your father would be saying proudly, Homelander could only nod listening actively. “She’d do a great addition I am certain.” his gaze now meeting yours immediately, when you gaze up from your book, he could notice a light shade of pink coming your cheeks. Cherishing it a little too much when your father’s voice then abrupt his mind, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?” he’d said a little too proud. 

She is indeed… Homelander thought to himself that same night. Just by how attentive he was with you. Even if it wasn’t  much of a conversation shared, the glances were enough to please him alone. Which during the dinner, he was not afraid to show. 

Dinner had passed rather quickly, you were glad it did. Considering you listening to whatever nonsense Homelander had to offer to keep your mother so relonctent toward him. Let alone, praise him as a her own god. Boosting an ego, to whom you couldn’t comprehend yourself, and that Homelander was sure to make it seem tonight. 

"Thank you so much for dinner, truly," Homelander said, wiping the corners of his mouth, his eyes never leaving you. Your mother’s gasp was enough to momentarily distract him, and he asked if everything was alright. She quickly assured him it was and invited him to stay until her cake was done baking. Naturally, John didn't decline the offer. "Y/N," your mother called your attention just as you were about to excuse yourself, "how about you give a little tour of the house? I'm sure Homelander would appreciate it." The formality of his name seemed daunting, but John quickly corrected her. "John it is. No need to be formal, now, do we?" A shiver crawled down your spine as your mother’s eyes gleamed with hope, her slender fingers clapping together. "Oh, well, of course! Now, Y/N, make yourself useful and make John feel at home." 

A sigh escaped your lips; there was no way to avoid this, was there? "Yes, of course. Where do you want to start?" Your eyes never left his, feeling yourself getting lost in them, becoming his little mouse to play with. "How about..." he began, his eyes wandering as if he couldn’t be bothered to think. "The bedroom," he finally said. You blinked twice, a third time to fully process his words. "What?" you replied, incredulous. He chuckled, amused by your reaction, and shrugged off the question as if he hadn’t meant it seriously. "Nah, kidding. Lead the way," he said. 

So you did. You felt his shadow hovering over you as you both walked through the house for a little tour. John was no longer hiding his presence, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his breath. By the time you reached your bedroom, the tour was complete, and your mother’s cake would be ready. However, John had something else in mind, and he wasn’t shy about showing it. “And this is the bedroom,” you said nonchalantly, hearing an obvious scoff from him. 

"Funny, isn’t it?" he said, this time his tone serious enough to make your muscles tense. His back was to you as his fingers touched the doorknob, ready to close the door. And he did, pausing momentarily. "Finally, we meet again." His remark made you tilt your head. Meet again? As far as you knew, he had been stalking you all along. But knowing who he was—Homelander, with his omniscience and twisted games—you had no say in the matter. Neither did you, especially after hearing his chuckle. 

“Now why so quiet?” the question was enough to make you unsease. You wanted to tell him, to oppose to him. But you couldn’t he was now yours to torment completely. When he leaned further, scoffing once more by your vulnerability. In that precise moment, Homelander knew he won. 

“Heard you were a good, fuck.” his voice so nonchanltly, a gasp leaving from your mouth as you were unable to speak more than standing right in front of him. How his eyes would wondered around your figure, approaching near to you, his fingers now leaning toward your waist. Gripping by its touch, hungry to fuck you there, in the bed. Raw. 

"Thank you?" you stammered, eager to please him. His grin broadened, fighting not to turn into a frown at your response. He was so satisfied that he gently caressed your cheek with his other finger. "You need me, not just to save you, but to satisfy you." Though your heart was broken, you were a toy Homelander cherished without fear. You were his perfect little toy, as he began to lick his bottom lip, his breath drawing closer, closing the gap between you. "Mine," he growled, his voice hoarse, undeniably hinting at his intentions. He was Homelander, able to do whatever he wanted. And that included you being his. "Got it, little mouse?"

Oh, how he longed to watch you squirm between his legs, begging for more, moaning his name. His persistence knew no bounds; he would do anything—from leaving bite marks to scratches, and even hickeys if necessary. But he couldn't just stand there without having a little fun, right?

"You see," he said, his voice dripping with teasing malice. Disgust welled up in your mouth, but you fought the urge to look away. He loved watching you squirm, the fear in your eyes fueling his twisted envy of every inch of you. "How about we play a little game tonight, hmm?" His thumb brushed gently over your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

"W-what game?" you managed to say, breaking your long silence. Even he was momentarily surprised, but your stutter made it worth it. "Hide and seek," he said, pausing for effect. "You hide, and I seek. If I find you, you're mine. Got that?"

You gave a quick nod, followed by a satisfied smile from him. "Good then, I'll start counting. One, two..." You hesitated for a moment, just as his grip shifted from your waist to your arm, preventing you from fleeing your own home. When your eyes met his, they were dark with passion, lust, and a desire to capture his little mouse until its very last breath. "Run..."

Little mouse.”

[p1utofairy]

★ how will people feel about you going public with your fp?

NOTE: for entertainment purposes only. take what resonates & leave what doesn't. ⭐️ i always appreciate the feedback so don't be shy. MWAH. enjoy!

PILE 1.

i feel like this relationship is going to cause quite a stir, pile 1. the energy is giving “that should be me!” lmao some people are really going to be mad as fuck. your person is going to treat you like an absolute queen and i’m hearing people scoff like “UGH!” which is crazy cause you might not even know these people, but y’alls relationship evokes this energy out of them. you (or possibly your fp) might have a narcissistic ex lurking in the shadows who constantly watches your social media & keeps tabs on y’alls relationship. it’s really weird, EW. they feel like they didn’t have you the way your person does, and it makes them really fucking jealous – it’s honestly absurd.

they fumbled you and they’re really going to regret it!especially because of how well your fp treats you & prioritizes your relationship. this ex has a BIG ass ego like the way they make everything about themselves is insane?! this person could be a fire sign – i’m picking up on some leo energy. they’re in disbelief that you moved on from them, and found someone wayyyy better that fulfills you in so many ways that they couldn’t possibly measure up to. they might create fake pages or reach out to you repeatedly trying to win you back over…it’s shameful honestly. from the outside looking in, your relationship with your fp is going to look so lowkey + private yet so warm + stable. you or your fp could have scorpio/taurus placements, but i just feel like neither of you are the type to post every single thing you do together on social media but people will know that’s YOUR FP, YOUR FP, YOUR FP! like don’t play!

y’all will make it very known that y’all are a couple, but people will not be all up in the mix because y'all simply don’t want them to be. they’ll see little hints and clues that you’re off the market, but this relationship is for you two, not everyone else. i can see you both posting things like holding hands, dinner dates, taking long walks together, an off guard while one of you is doing something, etc. just cute moments that only show a small glimpse of the immense love you two share on a day to day basis.

PILE 2.

were you split between choosing this pile and pile 1 lol? if so, check out pile 1 as well! there might be some messages in there for you too. now anyways, i’m ngl this is giving me single era vibes. you might have options and even if you don’t…you’re like “is any person really worth going public with?” LOL i get it, i really do. you’re very cautious and want to make sure that you’re not wasting your time on a relationship that you know might not last in the long run – you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment.

if you went public with someone…that means you really are committed like they REALLYYYYY won you over because you don’t pop out with just anybody! it takes a lot of effort to keep your attention, let alone gain your trust to be in a public relationship. i actually think your content with being by yourself right now. of course, you want a partner who can provide you with the best and also be loyal and committed to you.

however, you're willing to wait for that one person instead of wasting your time on others who don't meet those standards. OOOOO did some of my fellow saturnians choose this pile? this energy is amazing like seriously i’m so proud of you! you’re doing the inner work and it’s genuinely going to pay off in the long run. you’re cultivating your own happiness and building up your self-confidence. because of that, you’re going to attract a like-minded partner. you will have your desired reality, pile 2! you don’t live your life based on society’s standards and expectations. you’re on a different vibration and are attracting love, prosperity and abundance towards yourself effortlessly because you refuse to settle for less and put yourself in a box.

i know this reading is about how people will feel about you going public with you fp, but you genuinely don’t give a fuck what people think lol. people won’t even be able to form a proper opinion, because you are genuinely on a different level. i randomly just heard that one nicki minaj video when she’s like “BROKE PPL SHOULD NEVER LAUGH!” lmfaooooo i’m sorry but yeah! once you get everything you always said you would, including your fp, people are gonna be real silent no shade.

PILE 3

um pile 3 why is this energy a bit messyyyy, hold awn?! your relationship with your future partner might be different from what you perceive, or at least that’s how the public views it. take that with a grain of salt, but i feel like this relationship is going to have its ups and downs and it’s going to reflect on y’alls social medias.

you or your future partner might be the type to get emotional and act out by reposting different quotes on your IG story or tiktoks that relate to your situation, might even go as far as posting cryptic messages to allude that you two are on the outs. you and your fp know how to push each other’s buttons, and it honestly can get petty between you both. someone is not fully healed from their previous relationship in this connection & the unresolved baggage is carrying over into this one. idk, pile 3. for some of you this could be a karmic relationship and for others of you this could be baggage on your end that you need to work through in order for you to be in a stable relationship.

there seems to be a lot of wishy-washy energy, and people might perceive your relationship as having a 'one minute they're together, the next minute they're not' type of vibe. also, i’m picking up on a third-party situation where either you or your partner is keeping someone on the back burner without completely closing the door.

honestly, people might be amused by this and say things like, 'OMG, go check [Y/N]’s IG story and go see what [Y/FP] posted,' which only fuels the mind games being played. ultimately, i think this relationship will teach you about healthy boundaries and what you are and aren’t willing to tolerate, especially in public. it’s messy because this third party keeps interfering and amplifying the situation to make it worse. the ball is ultimately in your court, pile 3. you’ll know what to do.

[mirohlayo]

NOT SO JEALOUS

( Max is desperate to win your heart, but what can he do when other suitors are looking for you too? - Or in other words, the 2 times when Max denied his jealousy. )

warning : cute jealousy, sexual harassment, fluff fluff fluff

note : I think this one is cute

word count : 1.6k

You were incredibly perfect in Max's eyes. You were kind, funny, very very beautiful and adorable to everyone. You had your principles and your values and you were the most modest person in this world. To summarize, Max was destined to conquer you and your heart, because there was only you as the perfect woman.

But Max knew he wasn't the only one who saw your qualities. Other men saw in you the beautiful personality that you possessed, so naturally they also sought to seduce you, because that was all they dreamed of.

"Max, you've been staring at her for 3 minutes." Charles' eyes were mocking at the sight of his friend who seemed to melt on the spot admiring you. "How could I not? She's so... breathtaking." The Ferrari driver rolled his eyes as he went to retort.

However, looking back at Max's face, he could tell that something had changed. His jaw was clenched, his facial features more pronounced and his gaze - much darker and frightening. Charles frowned, examining his expression, as he decided to turn his head towards where Max seemed to be glaring at someone.

And a few meters further on, there was still you, in the paddock, and surprisingly, a man with a confident appearance and a dazzling smile. The dark-haired man seemed to make you laugh until you were close to tears, and Charles had also noticed the subtle touches this man was trying to do. Him too, because obviously Max had noticed that from the moment the man appeared in his vision.

"Jealous ?". Charles asked simply, curiously. Perhaps with a playful tone, which seemed to annoy the dutch. “No, not jealous.” “Not so jealous?” Charles continued again, friendly titillating the pilot next to him. Max was giving him a look that certainly screamed 'keep going and I'll kill you', so Charles didn't bother to tease him further.

But sure, his ears did not miss the curses that Max grumbled in a low voice, like a slight "anyway, he is not as beautiful and perfect as me. I am much better for her", before finally leaving with his head bowed and a pout on his face.

-

Clubbing. That word was pretty clear – dance, have fun and of course, flirt. So Max knew very well what he was going to get into when he took you to this famous little club in Monaco, your pretty navy blue dress that he adored on your body. He knew he couldn't really save you from any suitors.

You stayed by his side all evening. He absolutely didn't want to move his arm wrapped around your waist, a sign that showed others that you were potentially his. But when you kindly asked him to slip away to get some refreshments, apologizing, that's when he started to display his famous jealous expression.

“I can accompany you if you want.” Max said those words, and they sounded more like an order than a question. “Don’t worry Max, I'll be there in two minutes.” It seemed like the driver was looking for every possible excuse for you not to leave him, and you were starting to find that strange. “Max, we’re going to join Lando’s group, are you coming?” One of his close friends was yelling at him loud enough for him to hear.

His face fell as he already felt himself being dragged by the arm, seeing you disappear among the crowd. It was only a few seconds later, sitting like a sulking child who didn't get what he wanted, that he saw you sitting at the bar, impatiently waiting for your drink. You couldn't wait to join Max, because after all you'd be lying if you said you felt safe in this club.

Where Max gave you a feeling of peace and security. And this feeling of insecurity took shape when you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders and the alcoholic breath of a man older than you. His smile was scary, you tried to be as comfortable as possible but it wasn't working. “Don’t be afraid, pretty girl, I won’t do anything to you.”

Those words sounded like a lie and you inwardly begged the bartender to switch to lightning speed. The man felt more and more comfortable, his hands roaming over the bare skin of your arm. That's when you started to panic. "Sorry but I already have a boyfr-" "She already has a boyfriend, so no need to come touch her like a dirty pervert. Get out of there, otherwise I'll take you out myself."

Before your eyes, was there, Max. A look filled with disgust and fury, an expression almost similar to when he didn't achieve his goals in F1. An expression of rage and anger. You had never seen him so angry, at least just for you. The man was decomposing on the spot, and without a word he didn't bother to stay any longer.

"Are you okay, princess? Did he hurt you? Did he insult you? Do you want to go home and rest?" The way he worried about you made your heart melt, as he looked at you like you were the most beautiful and fragile thing in the world. You nodded slowly, taking the time to calm down. "I'm fine Max, don't worry. And I'd like to go home and rest, if you don't mind."

"It doesn't bother me at all, princess. Your wishes are orders." While he wrapped his jacket around your shoulders to keep you warm, you waited patiently for your Uber on the sidewalk of the club. The scene replayed in your mind, and a question tickled your tongue. "Jealous ?" The word came out naturally, and you watched as Max's cheeks flushed as he looked at you surprised. Completely in shock.

He looked away, his eyes glued to something nonexistent. “No, I just wanted to protect you.” “Not so jealous then?” You couldn't help but respond promptly, amused by his reactions. He cleared his throat embarrassed, before gently squeezing your hand that was in his. “Maybe a little, then.” That response alone was enough to make you giggle as he enjoyed the sweet melody. Maybe a little too much much after all.

-

It was your birthday. You had invited a few people, but enough so that you could organize a nice little evening. You had invited your closest friends, including two or three boys, and of course Max was one of them. Except he just wanted to be the only boy invited to your birthday.

It was perhaps immature and childish of him to think like that, but after all he had made the decision to confess his feelings to you at the end of that evening. He wanted to be the only one of the male gender who could tell you this tonight.

However, he didn't want to risk keeping you to himself all evening. It was your birthday, you were enjoying it to the fullest with your loved ones and that alone made him happy. Only, he would have liked not to have to endure your interactions with your other guy friend, who seemed to steal all your attention. He was once again displaying that terrible, tense and marked facade.

But he couldn't blame you. After all, who wouldn't want a woman as pretty as you? Except he couldn't take it anymore. To wait and endure all these hours. As you were about to blow out your candles, you slipped away to cool off in the kitchen. The guests finished lighting the last candles, and you found yourself alone with yourself and... Max.

Surprised to see him appear at first, you slowly turned to face him fully, an angelic smile on your face. Your smile that he could admire all day. “I saw you staring at me all night Max.” This sentence had the effect of a bomb on him, as his eyes widened. He thought he was at least being discreet, but it turns out he wasn't.

He scratched the back of his head nervously, feeling uneasy. “Don’t worry, I don’t feel anything for him.” He knew that you were referring to your friend because otherwise he would never have planted his gaze on yours as quickly as in this present moment. A faint giggle left your lips, amused. "Jealous ?". Max rolled his eyes playfully as he tried to hide his smirk.

“No, I don’t think I’m jealous.” You raised your eyebrows, surprised by his response. "Not so jealous, huh? Then I can go back to chat and laugh with my friend-" "NO- I... no, please. No, don't go back." He seemed completely panicked at the idea of seeing you laughing with this man he hoped to suffocate under his pillow tonight.

Suddenly, his strong muscular arms wrapped around your waist as he approached your bodies slowly. His gaze burned your skin, your eyes, but it was gentle. "I'm jealous, of course. You have no idea how much. Seeing you laughing, even just standing next to another man. I almost lost my mind. So I hope that a kiss could fix it, if you're okay with that ?" He asked in a cheerful voice.

A big smile took place on your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I'm perfectly okay with that, Mr. Jealous.” Your lips against his were perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever tasted. It was sweet and innocent, but full of love and emotion. "Birthday kiss, birthday gift". He laughed softly.

“Oh yeah, I saw that you didn’t make an effort to actually gift me something.” You giggled back, kissing him again. “Maybe I should have given you some pepper spray to blind the men who admire your sublime beauty.” Another laugh escaped your body as he fully savored this happy moment.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting.” You were referring to your guests. “Absolutely not, I really need to yell at them and tell them that I have the most perfect girlfriend in the world.” And in new laughter, you joined the others, who absolutely did not expect to see you kissing each other passionately behind the smoke of your blown out candles.

[ellecdc]

Mother, i have another poly!moonwater request but its a little angsty and tbh its probs mostly Barty appreciation because i 100% believe he'd be the best support system.

So, it doesnt happen very often but Reggie and reader are fighting. Idk what about, maybe she put herself in unnecessary danger or hid a wound?? But Remus has to take Reggies side or maybe he refuses to get involved.

Anyway, as a result she runs to Barty (i imagine she's his James and hes her Sirius) because he's her safe space and is surprisingly soft and comforting. If its readers fault he would be gently upset with her but calmly talk it out with her however he's still on her side and would hide her away for a couple days and let the boys panic for a minute because thats his person aaaaaand he is a little insane.

Hope that all made sense, and then a happy ending or i will cry.

Love youuuuuuu 🫶

'happy ending or I will cry' say less, babes 🫡 Barty to the rescue

poly!moonwater x fem!reader who's best friends with Barty

CW: mentions of fainting, angst, hurt/comfort, mention of blowjobs, Barty wishing people dead (what's new?)

Remus, throughout his life, has not been a stranger to conflict. His father spent Remus’ earliest years in constant battle at the Ministry fighting against werewolf rights. That conflict turned into Remus’ own lifelong curse of lycanthropy as a form of revenge. Remus’ muggle mother and wizard father spent many years in conflict over how to best love and support their werewolf son. Remus and his father experienced a lot of conflict when Dumbledore invited Remus to attend Hogwarts despite his lycanthropy. Remus experienced a lot of conflict with pureblood supremacists at school. Remus experienced conflict with his own friends, namely Sirius, after an unfortunate ‘prank’ that nearly cost both Remus and another student their lives.

But one aspect of Remus’ life that had yet to be a source of conflict had been his relationship with you and Regulus.

It seems almost unfathomable that the three of you managed to intertwine your lives without so much as a clash, but it was true. Regulus brought a confident and assured energy to the relationship, you brought an empathetic and quiet energy, and Remus supposed he was perhaps the most easygoing of the three of you, and that was good for the group. 

It is because of this lack of conflict that Remus was very confused to walk into the private study room that the three of you had reserved to find you and Regulus in the middle of a very heated spat.

“And since when don’t you tell me these kinds of things?” Regulus barked angrily at you. Remus actually had to shake his head as if he were hallucinating; he could have easily mistaken Regulus for his brother who was far more hot headed.

“I didn’t know I had to keep you posted on every little thing that happens, Regulus; I was busy.” You spat back.

“Whoa, okay. What have I missed?” Remus asked cautiously, placing his book bag down slowly on the table as if the situation in front of him were a live wire.

“Your girlfriend” Regulus spat as if girlfriend was a dirty word, “fainted today. And I had to hear about it from Pandora!”

Remus ignored most of the things that came out of Regulus’ mouth at the sound of ‘fainted’.

“Dovey! What happened?” He asked, looking to you in horror.

“What happened is she’s been overworking, under-sleeping, under-eating, and she needs to learn to say no to people!”

You scoffed at that. “You mean learn to say no to McLaggen. Just say it Regulus, this about me tutoring the sod in Herbology.”

“This isn’t about some bloke, Y/N!”

“You fainted?” Remus interjected, looking you over as if he may see signs of a fall. He did suppose you looked slightly peaky, but you were clearly worked up over whatever was going on with Regulus.

“Only a little.” You mumbled; voice still taut with impatience though you lowered the derision in your voice when you spoke to him.

“Right. And tell me, how does one only faint a little?” Regulus sneered.

You met him head on, grunting “Knock it off, Regulus. I mean it.” 

Remus noticed a slight quiver in your lip, but you stood your ground. He couldn’t say he completely disagreed with Regulus, but he didn’t think shouting at you like this was particularly helpful.

“Dove, we’re only worried about you. It makes us nervous if you’re not taking care of yourself and we don’t know about it, if we at least knew-” He tried, but you scoffed again, but this time at Remus. 

“Of course you’d side with him. I don’t need the two of you looking after me!”

“Well apparently you do.” Regulus barked. You didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer.

“Can we just talk about this later, please?” You asked quietly, eyes turning towards the table.

“No, we’re talking about this now. Because Salazar only knows what I’ll be hearing from Pandora next!”

“Maybe I didn’t say anything because this is exactly how I knew you would act.” You glowered at him.

“Are you even supposed to be out of the infirmary yet? What were Madame Pomfrey’s instructions?” Regulus demanded.

“I’m not doing this right now. You’re acting-”

“What were the matron’s instructions?” He asked again, voice threateningly low.

“Stop it, Regulus, I'm ser-”

“When I ask a question, you answer me.” Regulus ordered; voice booming and full of authority. 

You paused in packing up your bag to look at Regulus, holding his gaze as if daring him to utter another word. The atmosphere went from the heat of battle to ice cold in a matter of seconds.

Remus took one last look at Regulus, knowing this would be it; this was how they would lose Regulus. He’d have to tell Sirius that his brother was dead, and it was just better if they all moved on. Cause of death? Oh, Y/N burnt him to ashes with nothing but a glare.

You dropped your bag back onto the table and took a step towards Regulus, dropping into a verydramatic curtsey, making sure Regulus watched.

“Yes, Master Regulus.” You sneered with contempt before returning to your full height, eyes still never leaving Regulus’. “I seem to have forgotten myself. I live to serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”

And with that, you snatched your book bag and left the study room, slamming the door behind you. 

Remus was admittedly very surprised everyone survived this ordeal, though he took a moment to examine Regulus’ form.

“Well...” Remus started. “You’re not bleeding.”

Regulus let out a breath he’d been holding and sunk into his chair. “I don’t...I don’t understand. Was I wrong?”

Remus felt like this may have been a trick question. “Well, I don’t think you were right.”

Regulus looked over miserably at that, eyes begging Remus for comfort. Remus unfortunately couldn’t give it. 

“I’m sorry, love. You went too far.”

“I should go after her.” Regulus sighed, looking like he was thinking of getting up.

“Do you value your life?”

“Remus...”

“You need to let her cool off, Reg.”

“But-”

“I mean it, Regulus.” Remus said sternly, raising his eyebrows at the shorter boy. “You were too angry to see it but she was very upset – probably even more so if she’s already not feeling well.”

Regulus crossed his arms not unlike a petulant child being told they weren’t allowed to have a cookie before supper.

“Fine, but soon it won’t just be Y/N I have to convince to forgive me.”

Remus, completely unsympathetic to his boyfriend’s grumblings, smirked as he took out his homework. 

“Well, perhaps that’s what you get for acting like your father.”

Regulus let out a very inelegant groan and let his head fall onto the table with a thunk.

Everyone had their person, for better or for worse. Sirius had James, Regulus had Pandora, Remus had Lily, and you...well, you had Barty.

And perhaps whatever Barty lacked in terms of critical thinking skills and sanity, he made up for in terms of loyalty and enthusiasm. 

You knocked on the door to Barty’s dorm from the hallway when you heard a muffled “occupado!” through the wood.

“Barty? It's me.” You called quietly, hearing the sound of a locking charm being lifted from the door immediately.

You pushed open the door to see Barty laying back against his pillow with a cigarette in his hand and Evan Rosier laying on top of him with a book as he read. 

“Hiya, treasure. Where’d ya leave Reggie?” Barty asked, blowing smoke away from Evan’s book.

“We got into a fight.” You admitted quietly. 

Suddenly, Barty’s cigarette was flicked towards the fireplace and Evan was, very roughly and unceremoniously, dumped from his lap.

“Ah! Fuckin’ hells Junior, what was that for?” Evan muttered as he rubbed the back of his head, standing from his newfound place on the floor.

“Out! I need time with my beloved!” Barty squawked, sitting up further against the headboard and opening his arms for you as an invitation.

“Wha- what do you mean? I’m your sodding boyfriend!” Evan beseeched. Barty spared the boy a glance at that.

“Exactly, you’re only my boyfriend, Y/N is my soulmate. Now out with you.” He dismissed, returning his eyes to you. 

You (somewhat meekly as you passed Evan) made your way over and crawled into Barty’s lap as Evan let himself out of the dorm room (his own dorm room, mind you).

“Alright, my sweet treasure, spill. What are his crimes?” He murmured into the top of your head.

“He yelled at me.” You said meekly, voice turning up at the end as you felt tears well in your eyes.

“Dementor’s kiss.” He proclaimed without hesitation. “Egregious, absolutely horrific crime.”

“Barty...” You moaned.

“What? I’m not kidding, I want him dead. Yelling at my sweet girl like that. For shame.”

You let out a sigh as the first few tears fell onto Barty’s shirt. You knew he was seriously hurt on your behalf for not saying anything about ruining his silk button up.

“What reason could he possibly have had to yell at you?” He murmured again into your hair, rocking you back and forth.

“I fainted... in class today.” You admitted with a grimace.

As you expected, Barty paused in his movements and lifted you up off of his body to examine you.

“Fainted!?” He hollered. “How, treasure?”

You groaned and leaned forward, wanting to hide your face in Barty’s chest again. Thankfully, he allowed you to do so.

“I don’t know...Madame Pomfrey said it could be a few things. Not enough sleep, not eating enough, stress.”

“And he yelled at you for that?”

“Well...sort of.”

Barty hummed in acknowledgement but allowed you to sit in silence as he rubbed circles onto your back.

“He was mad because he found out from Pandora.” You admitted. 

“Hmm, sounds like Regulus felt stupid. Not an easy task, sweets, Salazar knows I’ve tried.” Barty determined.

“How do you mean?” you asked into his chest.

“He just always seems to know the answers when I-”

“Not that, Barty!”

“He didn’t know you had fainted, and it sounds like he perhaps didn’t even realize you were unwell. He would have thought that made him look like a fool, which it does.” He explained, lacing the words at the end of his sentence with disdain.

“Barty...” you chided.

“I mean, come on treasure; you have two boyfriends, and one of them is a Slytherin! You’re telling me neither of them noticed their most perfect, sweetest angel was struggling? Foolish. You can’t blame Lupin, though, he is a Gryffindor after all; hanging with the likes of those oafs ought to cost him a couple brain cells each day. Hey, listen... you say the word and you and Lupin are more than welcome to shack up with me and Evan.”

“Barty!”

“I’m just saying!” He yielded, holding his hands up in surrender. His faux-serious façade fell away when he noticed the corner of your lips quirk into a smile.

“I’m sorry he yelled at you.” He offered.

You half sighed half groaned as you fell back into Barty’s chest.

“I guess he was just worried about me...” You relented.

“Yes. But don’t make it easy on him, okay? It’s fun to see the sod sweat every now and again.”

“Regulus...I don’t know if this is a good idea. I really think we should let her come to us.” Remus muttered quietly from behind Regulus, but he wasn’t having any of it.

This had gone on too long, in Regulus’ opinion. You were hiding in Barty’s dorm room whilst Regulus stayed in Remus’, and while he loved Remus, he hated Gryffindor, and he missed you.

“Enough is enough, Remus. I want her back.” Regulus declared as he stepped up to his door and banged on the back of it none too gently.

“Junior!” He barked through the door. “I want my girlfriend back!” 

“No one’s home!” Barty called through the door. 

Regulus rolled his eyes so far back into his head even he was sure they were going to get stuck there.

He put his hand on the door handle and was hit immediately with a localized stinging jinx, causing him to rip his hand back off of it and hold it to his chest protectively. 

“Ow! Fuck Junior, what did you do!?” He called through the door. 

“Leave a message!”

“Oh, I’ll leave you a message alright.” Regulus spat.

“Dovey?” Remus tried calling gently through the door. “Can we come in? Please?”

It was quiet for a moment before Barty answered for you. “No.”

Remus shared an eyeroll of his own before cautiously touching the doorknob – apparently it had only been cursed against Regulus. 

“Okay, I’m opening the door.” Remus warned.

“I wouldn’t do that! I’m shagging your girl in here.” Barty called.

Regulus watched Remus’ face and knew two things to be true: that Remus was 97% sure that wasn’t true, and that Moony was very worried about that 3%. Ultimately, it appeared that Moony had won, causing Remus to barrel into the room rather ungraciously. 

Barty was sat in a chair with his feet kicked up on a desk and a book in his hand, which he lowered to examine the two intruders casually.

“That was very rude, you know. What would you have done if the lady had been indecent.” Barty scolded, using his book to point at your curled up form on Regulus’ bed, pointedly facing away from Remus and Regulus. 

Regulus felt his heart crack painfully at the sight, sharing a look with Remus who gave him an encouraging nod.

“Amour?” Regulus called gently, moving around the side of the bed in an attempt to see you. His heart cracked again when you hid your face in your arm.

“Please, my love. I’m...I’m so sorry.” He pleaded, kneeling down in front of you and cautiously stroking your arm. “I should never have spoken to you like that, I...I was wrong. And rude. And out of line. I’m sorry. Please? Please look at me, mon amour, laisse-moi arranger ça?” 

You turned your head up at that, and the final splinter that carved Regulus’ heart into two was the tear stains on your cheeks. 

“Oh, mon amour, je suis vraiment désolé. Je suis le pire, je suis vraiment désolé.” 

“Your fancy sweet talk won’t do you any good here, Black!” Barty hollered from his place across the room. “I’ve already told her that she and Lupin are more than welcome down here with me.” He added with a lascivious wink in Remus’ direction.

Regulus could see Remus’ cheeks pink at the compliment, but he also gulped at the threat.

“Say it ain’t so, mon amour.” He said to you, caressing your arm with one hand and delicately taking yours in his other, bringing it to his lips for a delicate kiss. “Is it finally happening, are you going to leave me for another? Surely you can do better than Junior, non?”

Regulus’ heart sped up almost double time as you offered him a watery smile. “No.”

“No? You can’t do better than Junior?” He teased.

You rolled your eyes as you sniffled and tried to wipe some of your tears away. “No, I’m not leaving you, you sod.”

“Oh, thank gods.” Regulus sighed dramatically, letting his head fall into the bed in front of him. He heard you chuckle above him, and you moved your hand into his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

“Oi! How come he gets head scratches for being a wanker and I get jilted?” Remus pouted from the middle of the room.

“Oh, come here lover boy.” Barty cooed at him, opening his arms and spreading his legs to make room from the lycanthrope.

Remus let out an awkward ‘erm’ from the middle of the room before you chuckled and invited Remus to join you for his own head scratches.

He opted to curl up behind you as the big spoon and wrap his arms protectively around your middle, adding his hand to Regulus’ shoulder as he still knelt on the floor at the head of the bed. Perhaps not the best angle for head scratches, but he was clearly very happy with his current predicament.

“Right then; have either of you tossers seen Rosier?” Barty asked as he stood from his chair.

“Common room.” Remus and Regulus answered in unison.

“Thanks.” He said as he made his way to the door. “Stay out of the bathroom for a while, yeah? I owe that sod so many blowjobs after all of this.” 

[kaciebello]

Offspring garden

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Demetre! reader (fem) Summary: Luke and the reader are the unofficial parents of the camp, whether they like it or not. Warning: Non, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ ) Requested! word count: 1.2k

“LUKE CASTELLAN” A yell could be heard throughout the whole camp. The boy in question lifts his head from his sword to look for the source of the noise. Only to see a familiar girl with an angry scold on her face. He stands up when he sees her, dragging two familiar boys behind her. He just signs and makes his way to them.

“Hello, honey.” He says, hoping to de-escalate the situation. She just huffs and points a finger at him before turning to the two boys who were now looking at the floor in shame.

“Don't you even dare to sweet talk me, Luke?” To him this was comical. The Stroll brothers often did something they shouldn't, they however did not get caught that much. No, seeing them being scolded by a girl who’s just a few years older was funny. She resembled a mom giving a lecture to her children She turned to him again.

“Keep your siblings in check, because if I catch them again in my garden-”

“You're gonna what?” Luke says, coking his head to the side with a smile.  Her eyes narrow at him as she steps closer. The boys yelp out a little ‘ sorry, mom’ teasing tone in their voice, as everybody noticed some of the younger kids calling her that by accident during the campfire last night. She ignores them and takes our step to Luke. He secretly waves his arm at the boys and they scatter away as quietly as they can, although few giggles leave them anyway.

“Don't try me today Luke, we have so much to do and I don't have the time or the patience for this. And you, you are- Luke where have they gone?” She says her eyes flipping between him and the place where the boys were standing a minute ago. Luke just shrugs and smiles. The girl sighs placing her shaking her head.

“You can’t just let them go, I brought them here for a reason.” She says kicking a stone with her foot. Luke took her hands in his, wrapping them around his neck. Now that he had her undivided attention he rocked them back and forth.

“They're just kids.”

“Cheeky, that's what they are.” Luke just laughs. Leaning in, their noses brush on each other. Before Luke could continue, a pair of giggles were heard before the water fell on them from the top of the Hermes cabin. In shock, the pair steps away from each other and look up. There they were, the Stroll brothers, with two buckets of water having the time of their life.

“LUKE!” He's not sure he can get them out of this one.

—

Being the counselor of their cabin did give them an advantage. Granted, it was more work than the normal ‘training to be a hero ‘ thing. The older campers however did not mind, because it meant they got to call light out. Now the Demeter cabin went to sleep almost as soon as the sun set, not fans of the dark. The Hermise cabin, however, is quite the opposite. If they had to pick they would switch the whole camp to night one. 

However, it was not unusual to see the Demetre cabin counselor at the Hermes cabin after she called light out on her own. Not that Luke was having a problem with his cabin, no. Well kinda, it's always hard for the new kids, and he and his siblings are more mischief than anything else. The friendly face of the Demetre kids makes them calm down and fall asleep despite the noise.

He was leaning on the doorframe, his eyes glued to the girl reading kids' stories. He was supposed to keep an eye on his siblings. That was their deal. But he only started to pay attention to them when a shirt was thrown in his face. Taking it down and looking up to try and find a culprit, he finds Chris with a smirk on his face. Luke just rolls his eyes and throws it back. Making his was the girl who was tucking in the last camper. His hand lands on the small of her back as she straightens.

“ All done?” He whispers although it is useless when he hears his sibling laugh at full volume. The girl looks up at him and nods. Turning and making her way to the cabin door. Luke follows her very close by.

“Will you walk me back?” She asks, playing with his bracelets. 

“Why? Scared of the dark?” He cocks his head to the side. Only receiving a glare from the girl. Before she can answer one of the Hermes girls pipes in.

“You have the same conversation every night, You are boring as an old married couple with kids.” She says before letting her head hit the pillow. Both Luke and the girl look at her. The Demeter girl shakes it off before he does. Letting off his hand and clearing her throat.

“Alright, that is enghou, lights out!” She said, making sure everyone could hear her. Some kids listened right away and some hesitated before laying down too.

“But you not our-”

“I SAID LIGHTS OUT.” The light switch was flipped to the end she said. All that could be heard was the cabin door opening and closing, indicating that the two counsellors had left on their adventure.

—

They were both sitting on the floor. Her back was pressed to his chest as she sat between his legs. Watching Annabeth, Percy and Grover fool around the arena. Luke insisted they needed training, although he was not teaching them anything. The girl opted to read her book, as this is as quiet as it gets around the busy camp.

“What do you say we go on an adventure next summer,” Luke says catching her attention enough to listen but not enough to put away her book.

“Chiron is not letting us go on a quest Luke.” She says nonchalantly. Luke just shakes his head and his hand goes to play with the corner of the book.

“No, I meant like, go and have a trip, Europe maybe.” He finishes and the girl chuckles. Turning over a page before finishing her chapter. Make sure she places a bookmark before closing the book and putting it aside. She leans even further onto him before answering.

“ As if Mr. D is gonna let us leave. We basically run the camp for him.” She says and Luke laughs. His arm now resting across her chest, both watching the trio who were playing some kind of game. It looks like a twisted version of Marko Pollo as Annabeth kept going invisible to confuse Percy even more. Luke leans down and kisses the girl on the forehead. She looks up at him with a smile before reaching to pat his head and tug at the base of his curls.

In bliss they sat, soaking in the sun. A quiet day where they get to be teenagers. All, however, comes to an end when someone yells out ‘Mom’ and all heads turn to her. The girl can just groan before getting up and following the sound. Flowers blooming in her hair out of frustration. Luke does not stay that far behind

[0cta9on]

FFF2+4

length: +2k words

Genre: Smut

Le Sserafim Sakura x Male Reader

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Your hand lazily inserts the key into your apartment and unlocks the door. You want to slam it behind you in anger, but you’re too tired to even manage that. Working at the convenience store was supposed to be easy, just a little side hustle you can do to make some cash while you go through school. However, you failed to anticipate the long and arduous days of being yelled at by customers over things you have no power over, all for minimum wage. Your piece of shit manager doesn’t make things easier as all she does is sit on her phone while you’re the one that has to run around like a dog just to maintain the store. With a heavy sigh, you collapse face-first into the couch, just barely fighting the urge to suffocate in between the cushions and end your suffering once and for all.

“You good?”

You turn your attention to your roommate Sakura, who’s sitting on the floor, immersed in a fighting game on the TV. Sakura seldom talks and has a bit of an unnerving air about her, but she always kept the common areas clean and upheld her side of the chores so you considered her to be the perfect roommate in your book. You’ve managed to warm up to each other a little bit over the years, yet she always remained as sort of an enigma to you. You rarely talked due to always being busy with work or school, but whenever you did see her, she was always playing some kind of video game. Supposedly she makes money from streaming herself playing these games to thousands of people. You didn’t really understand, but you didn’t really need to anyway.

Your body slides off the couch onto the floor next to her, your eyes glazing over the flashing colors on the screen. “I’m fine,” you utter. “What are you playing?”

“Tekken 8,” she answers, her eyes never leaving the screen. “You wanna play?”

“I think I’ll stick to watching you.” Video games were never really your thing, but you could admire how skillful Sakura looked with the way her slender fingers quickly pressed the right buttons at the right time, her eyes glaring with focus. The blue light of the TV reflects off of her pale skin, making her look ethereal despite wearing a simple crop top and a pale blue tracksuit. Since when did Sakura look so attractive?

Before you knew it, you were suddenly face to face with the back of Sakura’s blonde head, your legs splayed out on either side of her. She was too focused on the game to notice you pressing up against her, which you took as a sign to take things further. Maybe it was the exhaustion and the stress seeping its way into your brain, but you needed some kind of release and Sakura just happened to be at the right place at the right time. 

Your hands slowly snake their way up her toned abs, grazing her soft skin with your fingertips and stopping at the hem of her top. Sakura hasn’t made any move to stop you, you wonder if she even noticed you at all. You lift up her top, pleasantly surprised to see her wearing no bra underneath. Her breasts are the perfect size and shape to fit into the palms of your hands, soft yet firm like a stress ball. With each gentle squeeze, all the stress you procured over the day begins to drain from your body, and your erection starts to strain against your pants, pressing into Sakura’s lower back. Lust takes over your body as your breath gets heavier and your heart pounds in your chest. Your lips latch onto the back of her exposed neck, kissing and licking her porcelain skin.

“You’re gonna make me lose,” she says, her voice monotone. You momentarily pause to chuckle at her nonchalance. Her body was being ravished by her roommate, yet all she cared about was winning her little game. You found it oddly cute in a weird way.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, punctuating your sentence with a kiss on her neck. “How about this? If you win while I play with your body, I’ll give you $10.”

“Make it $20 and I’ll let you fuck me afterward.”

“Deal.” Almost immediately, your hand lunges into the waistband of her pants while your other hand pinches Sakura’s nipples. To your surprise, her panties had a sizable wet spot on them - despite her lack of a reaction, she was way into this. As you apply pressure against the wet spot, you hear her breath hitch in her throat, her body shivering upon contact. You had her right where you wanted her.

As much as you would love to take your time to make her feel good, you also didn’t want to easily give up the $20 you worked so hard for. You move her panties to the side to give you easier access to the honey pot lying underneath. Her lips were already coated in her slick juices as you teased her hole with your digits. A small groan escapes her mouth right as she wins the first round with a sliver of health left.

“Ooooh, that was a close one, Kkura,” you tease, chuckling into her ear. “Maybe this’ll be easier than I thought.”

Sakura stays quiet, her focus on the game unwavering. Right as the second round starts, you shove two fingers deep inside her hot, velvety core, eliciting a cute moan from the Japanese girl. The slickness of her arousal coats your fingers, allowing you to thrust in and out of her with ease. The texture of her inner walls is like silk wrapped around steel - soft and smooth, yet firm and unyielding. You watch with enjoyment as Sakura slowly becomes undone. Lustful moans continued to escape her lips, and her fingers began to spaz out with each thrust of your hand, causing her character to lose health. Her grip on the controller tightened with frustration but quickly dissipates as you continue to finger her pussy. Miraculously, she somehow managed to win the second round, albeit with a smaller margin than before.

“Hmm, I guess I should start trying now, huh?” You quicken the pace of your hand while your thumb rubs against her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Sakura’s body. Her breathy moans fill the air as she tries desperately to ignore the lust threatening to take over her body. The walls of her pussy tighten around your fingers as she grows closer to her orgasm, her hips rocking subtly with each thrust, inadvertently rubbing her butt against your erection. Your breath grew heavy with excitement, but you didn’t want to end the fun just yet. Right when you think she’s about to cum, you remove your hand from her heat, denying her the satisfaction of a release. Sakura turns to you with a fire in her eyes, causing her to lose her first round.

You chuckle in her face. “What’s with that look?” you ask, taunting her with a sly smirk. From all your years of knowing her, this is the most emotion you have ever seen her display. You couldn’t help but find it cute how much she wanted to cum.

“Whatever…” She grumbles in annoyance before turning back to the screen. You place a gentle kiss on the back of her neck, a symbol of your apology. However, you aren’t apologizing for not taking her all the way. In fact, this is an apology made in advance - you’re about to make things so much more difficult for her.

Instead of pulling the trigger and assaulting her wetness like she wants you to, you decide to tease her by gently rubbing your fingers over the cloth of her crotch, applying just enough pressure for her to feel it but not enough for her to get off. Your other hand traces gentle circles on her breasts, tickling her skin with your fingernails. Sakura lets out a huff of irritation. She so badly wanted to feel your fingers inside of her, but unfortunately for her, her pride was stronger than her lust, and throwing the game for her own pleasure was just not a viable option. Her sexual frustration gets the better of her and the poor girl ends up losing the round in a complete stomp, leaving just one more round to decide whether or not you would be out $20.

“Ugh…” She groans while pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What’s the matter? Just one more win and you get $20, easy as pie,” you say, smirking mischievously. Sakura simply shrugged it off, putting all her attention into the game, but little did she know how dirty you planned on playing the final round.

Right as the in-game announcer starts the final round, you push Sakura forward so that she’s now on all fours, her perfect ass in the air. Despite the compromising change in position, she kept her grip on her controller and her focus on winning. You didn’t let her stay comfortable for long as you grabbed the waistband of her velvet sweatpants and pulled it down along with her panties, exposing her plump cheeks in one fell swoop. Her pussy stains her thighs with her sweet nectar, ready for you to ravish her hole. All your patience is about to pay off as you free your erection from its prison, lining it up with Sakura’s core. With one thrust, you completely bottom out inside of her, causing a high-pitched moan to come out of her mouth. Your fingers sink into the plush flesh of her hips, pulling her towards you with each thrust. The sight of her modest yet plump ass vibrating with an audible slap of skin against skin is worth way more than $20, yet here you are, enjoying it all for free. Sakura’s pussy squeezes your cock with her slick walls, her climax quickly approaching thanks to the work of your fingers earlier.  At this point, your roommate was a complete mess in front of you, dropping her controller and letting her opponent knock out her character without any fight. Right as the big red “DEFEAT” pops up on the screen, Sakura lets out a long moan, announcing her orgasm. You hold her hips down on the base of your cock as her body shakes with pleasure, her juices spilling down your legs and staining your work pants.

Sakura collapses onto the ground as you pull out of her, giving you a moment to catch your breath. As much as you would love to dump your entire load into her pretty pussy, you decide to show her mercy in this instance. Games aren’t fun if you win them right away.

Slowly, Sakura props herself up. Her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath and you can’t help but become mesmerized by her breasts. In turn, she stares at your dick, still glistening with her nectar. She discards her disheveled clothing, and like a kitten stalking its prey, she crawls towards you with unblinking eyes. Normally, her face void of emotion would be hard to read, but at this moment, you knew exactly what she was thinking. Her lips hungrily latch onto yours as she straddles your lap, grasping onto your cock to line it up with her dripping cunt. Your hands automatically gravitate towards her hips as you pull her down onto your lap, forcing her to take all of you at once. Sakura groans into your mouth, wrapping her arms around your head and pulling you deeper into the sloppy kiss. 

As she bounces on your dick, you completely forget about all the shit you faced at work. Hell, you would gladly work at the shit hole if it meant getting to fuck your cute roommate every day. The thought gets you more excited as you meet Sakura’s hips with thrusts of your own, simultaneously breaking the kiss to suckle on her perfect bouncing tits. Her shrill moans and the slaps of your skin against hers fill your ears, driving you closer to the edge.

“S-Sakura… I’m about to c-cum…” You warn her, breathless.

“I-inside… C-cum inside me…”

With your grip tightened on her waist, you slam her down onto your cock, forcing your entire length inside as you shoot ropes of your semen into her cunt. Sakura meets your orgasm with one of her own, her pussy pulsating and milking your cock. Her body collapses onto you as both of you catch your breath.

“Well, that was something,” you say to fill the empty space. Sakura answers with a hot shaky breath against your neck. Five minutes pass before her breathing finally comes back to normal. “Soooo… Same time tomorrow?” You ask, half-jokingly. Sakura gets up from your neck with the same blank expression as always. 

“Don’t keep me waiting.”