#we also have these call points customers can press

[sunfudge]

I'm at work rn and if one more person speaks on the headset I'm gonna start tearing the shop apart my head is so sore

[kaiijo]

DATES WITH HIM — [WIND BREAKER]

characters: suo hayato, kiryu mitsuki, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, kaji ren, togame jo content: gn! reader notes: i did not come up with the date idea in suo's! also i recommend reading the mentioned works in suo’s part and listening to the song in kaji’s! obvious togame bias i’m sorry (but i’m also not)

suo hayato ✶ bookstore date

you saw the idea of a bookstore scavenger hunt date and it was too cute to resist. with your list in hand, you and suo make your way to your favorite neighborhood bookstore. the old lady who runs it greets the two of you before attending to other customers. suo leans over your shoulder to look at the first item. “find a joke to make your partner laugh.”

you make your way to the joke book shelf, where suo picks up a paperback titled 100 dad jokes to make anyone bust a side! he flips through it and lands on a page. “which days are the strongest?”

“i don’t know, which ones?”

he stares at you dead in the eye as he answers, “saturday and sunday. the rest are weekdays.”

you can’t help but snort and roll your eyes, and suo says, “we’re counting that!” and you check it off the list because you don’t know if you can take another cheesy dad joke. 

you read out the next bullet point: “find a puzzle to conquer together.”

you find and complete a crossword puzzle in a magazine (you kept the magazine with you to buy later). your scavenger hunt list leads you through the travel section to talk about your dream vacation spots; the children’s section where you find your favorite childhood books; and the cookbook aisle where you find a recipe you both want to cook together. finally, the last task challenges you to find a poem that describes your partner.

you and suo split up in the poetry section for that. you thumb through pages and pages but nothing is able to capture just how you feel for suo. you find one finally just as he walks over to you, a poetry anthology in hand. you read to him kevin varrone’s “poem i wrote sitting across the table from you” and he recites joy harjo’s poem “for keeps.” 

your heart feels like its about to burst as he finishes and you take his hand in yours, bring it to your lips for a kiss. his gaze is soft as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead.

kiryu mitsuki ✶ arcade date

you pout as you watch the final pac-man score flash on the screen in big, pixelated numbers: 150 to 170. kiryu ruffles your hair affectionately. “we’re all tied up again,” he says. “two to two. what do you want for the tie-breaker?”

you peer around the arcade, glancing at the flashing screens of various games. there’s street fighter, space invaders, and other classics but it’s the air hockey table that catches your eye. you nod at it. “settle the score over good old-fashioned air hockey?”

“sounds good,” he says and you two make your way over to it.

just as you arrive, another couple shows up. “oh, shit,” the other guy says when he and his girlfriend approach at the same time. 

“sorry,” you say. “you guys can have it if you want.”

“no, no, you two came first,” the girlfriend says.

“it’s seriously fine!”

“no, really, it’s cool!”

you’re all at a standstill, neither party willing to takeover the table. instead, kiryu pipes up, “there are four pushers, why don’t we play on teams? a friendly competition.”

“i’m down!” the girl smiles and turns to her boyfriend. “what do you think?”

“i say we crush ‘em!”

“ooh, those are fighting words!” you call, looping you arm through kiryu’s. “ready to kick some ass, mitsuki?”

“always.”

the competition is fierce — the other couple is a lot better than you thought and you’re playing best of seven rounds. it’s the tie breaker and you narrowly manage to block a shot from the other guy. the puck bounces off the sides, hurtling across the board towards kiryu, who easily deflects it back. the volley goes back and forth and there are far too many times it almost sinks into their goal.

the other couple just blocks a shot again and the puck is heading for you. you hit it at the right angle and it just ekes past the defense, sliding into the goal to end the game 4 to 3. you congratulate each other on a good game and kiryu sighs, “i guess that settled the score between us too, huh?”

“what do you mean?”

“you made the winning goal.” he holds out the tickets he’s won. “let’s go get you a prize.”

umemiya hajime ✶ farmer’s market date

“whoa! these squash look so good! how did you grow them? did you plant them in may or june?” umemiya’s eyes are wide and bright as he listens intently to the farmer’s answer. you don’t think you’ve seen him this excited before, which is saying a lot given his enthusiasm for almost anything. 

she smiles warmly at the two of you, asking, “how many would you like?”

“three,” you reply, reaching for your wallet, but umemiya is holding out the money for her before you can even open your bag. 

the farmer shakes her head, gently pushing his hand back. “it’s on the house,” she says, plucking a packet of seeds from a small wooden crate at the edge of the stall. “and i’ll throw these in too, all free of charge!”

“oh, please, we insist,” you begin to protest but she just shakes her head again. 

“it’s been a long time since someone has been this curious about my produce,” she chuckles, “and i’m not about to make a lovely young couple pay for this! all i ask is that you two raise the squash lovingly.”

“we will, i promise,” umemiya says, taking the bag of squash from her. as you two continue through the farmer’s market, umemiya interlocks your fingers, using his other hand to motion to the other stalls you pass. 

he says, “we have tomatoes and cucumbers already but we need mushrooms! oh, those look good!” he already leading you to another vendor, surveying the cartons of wood-ear mushrooms. you raise a brow in amusement as he buys five cartons, humming a cheery song. 

“what’s all this for, again?”

he beams at you. “the summer barbeque!”

“ahh, right!” you smile. “the infamous summer barbeque.” you glance around the market, pointing out a stall selling sausages and other meats. “i think we’ll want to get some protein, then, since your boys eat enough for a hundred men.”

“babe, you’re a genius!”

hiragi toma ✶ cooking date

make dinner at home for date night, they said. it’ll be fun, they said. you think anyone who said this is a fun, stress-free date is a total liar.

“alright,” you sigh as you clean the frying pan of egg residue for the third time. “well, fourth time’s a charm!”

hiragi pops a stomach tablet out of its packaging and chomps down on it. “you said that the last two times.”

“this one’s going to be the one!” you chirp, reaching for the egg carton. “it has to be, since these are our last four eggs.”

hiragi lets out a long, heavy breath before slipping his apron back on. “okay, one more time.” 

hiragi throws a large tablespoon of butter down the pan, tilting the pan from side to side as the melting butter coats the surface. you crack the four eggs into the measuring cup and beat them with a whisk, tipping a little drop of it onto the butter. it sizzles promisingly and you and hiragi share a glance and nod, then you pour the eggs in.

you stir the eggs quickly with a pair of chopsticks, stopping as you see the omelet beginning to smooth. hiragi tilts the pan to let the uncooked egg mixture start to cook, doing his best to keep the curds even and level. 

the new portion of eggs scramble and you spoon your chicken rice mix into the center of the omlet, roughly shaping it into an football-shape as hiragi kills the heat. “good?” you ask him, motioning with your chopsticks at the pile of rice.

“good.” he lifts the pan. “hot pan, coming through!” he places it on the damp rag on your counter. you slide the omlet to the edge of the pan, carefully wrapping the rice with egg on both sides. hiragi’s already moved to get a plate and you hold your breath as he slides it carefully onto the plate.

success.

you let out collective sighs of relief. 

kaji ren ✶ concert date

you had spent hours in an online queue to get kaji tickets to see his favorite band for his birthday. luckily, the venue isn’t too long a train ride from makochi but when you severely undersold how many people can cram themselves into the venue.

kaji’s grip is firm as you weave your way through the crowd, pushing closer to the stage. some guy jostles you, grumbling under his breath, only to apologize when he faced kaji’s cold glare. your boyfriend manages to get the two of you to a decent spot near the front, just off right of the center. 

“what song are you most excited for?” you ask him, speaking as close to his ear as possible. the din around you is getting louder and the crowd more electrified, so you know it’s starting soon.

“wasted nights,” he replies easily. 

you hum, “that sounds familiar. it’s on the playlist you made for me, right?”

his mouth lifts into a small smile. “yeah, i think it’s number eleven or twelve.” just as he is about to add something, the lights around you begin to flash and pulse as the ambient music dies down. the band comes out to thunderous cheers as they take up their instruments. 

even though you don’t know the band well, you can’t help but jump and dance with the crowd, and you sing along to parts you can remember. kaji’s not one for rowdiness himself but he thrives off the energy from it — you can see it in the way he bobs his head in rhythm, the way he seems completely in his element. as the fourth songs in the set transitions into the fifth one, a slower ballad this time, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pecks your cheek. “thank you again,” he says. “i’m glad i’m here with you.”

you burrow further into his side, swaying to the music. “happy birthday, ren.” 

togame jo ✶ pottery class date

you tilt your head as the pottery wheel slows to a stop, examining the mug you were instructed to make. the rim is uneven and it’s leaning towards the left. togame’s isn’t any better given that his mug looks shorter and stouter than the rest of the class and the handle is fully too long. when the pottery teacher walks over, she offers a sweet smile. “beautiful work,” she says. “they both have a unique charm to them.”

“thanks, we totally meant to make them this way,” you say and she carefully brings them to the shelf where the other attendees’ mugs sit waiting for the kiln. 

oddly enough, seeing your mugs together makes them look somewhat normal, almost like an eclectic set, and when you glance at togame, he meets your eyes and you two try to suppress your laughter, togame’s broad shoulders shaking with effort. as you stand side by side, washing your hands in the classroom’s sink, togame smirks. he reaches over and claps a hand on your shoulder, leaving a large, damp terracotta-colored handprint on your shirt. 

you narrow your eyes and do the same, this time on the side of his own t-shirt. his hand touches your back and yours grazes his chest. you could probably do this forever but someone clears their throat behind you and you apologize as you actually finish cleaning up, stepping aside for another couple to wash themselves off. 

togame drapes an arm around your shoulder as you leave the building, saying, “i think i won, babe.” 

you know he’s talking about the stains all over both of your clothes but all you do is smirk at him. “i think i won, actually, since this is your shirt.”

he shrugs. “i wish i could be mad, but you look too good in my clothes to complain.”

bonus!

you return two weeks later when your “unique” mugs are primed for glazing. you two agreed to keep the final designs on your pottery a surprise so you sit as far away from each other with your backs turned. in the end, you two had similar ideas — he chose your favorite color as a background and painted on a pattern of your favorite flowers while you glazed your mug in orange and black with an attempt at a the lion face on the shishitoren jackets, albeit yours is way less threatening and much cuter. 

your mugs sit in each of your cabinets at your homes in all their uniquely beautiful glory, your new favorites — well-used and well-loved. one day, they’ll be together again, side-by-side in a cabinet that you two shared together.

[its-time-to-write]

how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3

I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂

I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!

smile at me

It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?

Or something. 

Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam. 

“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”

“It’s literally my job,” you told him. 

Apparently, that didn’t matter. 

But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once. 

It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look. 

Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge. 

“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”

Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around. 

The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle. 

“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”

Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”

You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?” 

You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”

He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”

“He broke up with me.”

Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”

You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all. 

“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues. 

You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”

Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included. 

“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”

A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani. 

As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.

—

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.

You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”

The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”

Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening. 

“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump. 

“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain. 

Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown. 

“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say. 

Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”

You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head. 

“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”

“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.

“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”

Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”

You laugh and follow him to the elevator.

—

It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively. 

Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.

“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”

It’s not a problem. 

Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain. 

But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.

He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman. 

Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back. 

“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”

You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver. 

“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce. 

You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring. 

—

“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm. 

“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.

You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown. 

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair. 

“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”

You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.

“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”

You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.

The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.

—

Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.) 

So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life. 

And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him. 

So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel. 

You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.

—

Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired. 

You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking. 

“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”

You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments. 

—

You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you. 

“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep. 

You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night. 

Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved. 

Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”

You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”

Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”

You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”

“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”

“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”

Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green. 

Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips. 

“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.

It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter. 

It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.

The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”

“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”

Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”

Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”

“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”

“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning. 

“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”

“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”

“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”

You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”

Jamie shoots up. “What?!”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”

Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”

You grin as you climb onto his lap. 

[phoward89]

Masterlist

Dark!Coryo, Dark!Peacekeeper Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Delulu!Coryo, obsession, manipulation, toxic relationship, drinking, cussing, oral (f receiving), p in v, squirting, creampie, dubcon, breeding kink, degradation, uh that's about it

Chapter 5:

According to the clock tacked up behind the bar it was past midnight. Your brother was still perched at the bar, knocking back moonshine and staring at you and Coryo. He's been watching the two of you all night go back and forth between the dance floor and a wall side table. Seeing you so enchanted by Private Snow along with being introduced to his fellow Peacekeepers pissed him off.

If it wasn't for Ashlie plying him with moonshine and reminding him with harsh whispers that he can't make a scene because she can't afford to lose her job, well, he would've started shit with Coryo. But, since he had booze flowing freely at his beck and call he decided to stay put on his bar stool. Plus, he has to admit, even in his inebriated state, that the family couldn't afford Ashlie to lose her job. Hell, it was bad enough that you lost your job.

And now your brother's starting to think that maybe the Doula running the apothecary shop fired you because she felt uneasy with Private Snow hanging around you. Hey, Rein knows that you had to meet him somewhere; it only makes sense that you met him in town. In the Merchant's Sector while working.

Your brother was over everything. He did his best to raise you, but you seem to be cut from the same cloth as your mother. Rein never liked his stepfather, Colonel Javanis Halvir, and he never told you about him or the truth about how he died. About how both of your parents died.

But if you keep hanging on Private Snow as if the sun shines out of his damn asshole then he might have to tell you the truth. As a scare tactic. A warning to stay away from the pretty boy peacekeeper that's wooing you with twisted words and pretty pearly white smiles.

“Stop staring at that peacekeeper like you want him to drop dead, Rein.” Ashlie ordered her longtime boyfriend in a long, drawn out huff. When her only reply from him was a squint of his Seam grey eyes, she sighed. Looking between your brother and you, as you sat on Coryo's lap sipping on moonshine, Ashlie told your brother, “I'll have a talk with her in the morning about him.” Patting his arm before going over to a customer, she added in, “I'm sure this is just a passing fancy.”

“If she's anything like my mom, well, it ain't just a passing fancy.” Rein slurred, knocking back his shine.

His eyes narrowed disapprovingly as he watched Coriolanus motioning for you to stand up; setting your shine jar down only to stand up after you. He couldn't make out what was being said, but it looks like Coriolanus and you are saying your goodbyes to a couple of his peacekeeper friends.

Goddamnit, he hopes you don't do anything stupid tonight.

You and Coryo walked back to your place from the Hobb side by side. In fact, he had his arm snaked around you; keeping you tightly glued to his hip. The smell of smoke and shine heavily lingered on the two of you. Even in the fresh summer's night air, the stench of the Hobb was heavily stained on you.

“Look, that's the North Star.” You pointed out the star that is used by sailor's and such for navigation. “I read that sailors and military men use it like a compass, if they don't have one, during the dead of night.” You explained, looking at Coriolanus with a smile as he looked up at the bright star shining in the black velvet sky. “It's also known as Polaris.”

“I've never seen it before, darling. The bright lights of the Capitol doesn't make stargazing very easy.”

“We can always lay in the meadow and stargaze sometime if you want.” You offered as you and Coryo continued on your way to your house.

“We'll do it one night, but not tonight.” Coriolanus told you. His breath was hot against your ear as he huskily said, “Tonight I'm going to show you how much I love you.” Pressing his lips to your temple, he crudely promised, “I'm going to fuck you so good tonight, baby.” Giving you a wide, eccentric grin, he added, “And it's all because I love you.”

You felt your heart racing a mile a minute in your chest at the implication of his words, his promise. Were you ready for that? To be fucked. Honestly, you weren't sure.

Coryo was so charming and nice to you. He’s also so devoted despite not being with you that long. And he claims to love you.

So why are you so nervous about his plans for tonight? Is it because you've never done that before or is it something else?

A sloppy wet kiss on your jawline, near your ear, accompanied by a deep husky question of, “You ready for me to make you mine tonight, baby girl?”, shook you out of your mental musings.

Worrying your lip, you slightly pulled away from your platinum blonde peacekeeper and honestly told him in a small nervous voice, “I dunno, Coryo. I've never…you know…been with anyone or been in love before.”

The peacekeeper stopped you both dead in your tracks, only to spin you around and take hold of your face. Squishing your cheeks in his large, calloused hands- his long fingers brushing into your hair, Coriolanus firmly told you with lust in his deep baritone, “I love you, Y/N, and you love me too. I'll always love you; tonight’s time for us to act on our feelings.” Pressing his forehead against yours, he promised, “If you're scared of me fucking you and leaving, don't be. I swear, I'll never leave you. Death itself can't even separate us.”

You still felt nervous, but his romantic words had you giving into his desire. Albeit relentlessly, you agreed to let him make you his tonight in every sense of the word. Your easy cooperation had Coriolanus grinning triumphantly from ear to ear.

Gesturing to your nearby house with a tilt of his head, your boyfriend suggested, “Let's get inside; make ourselves comfortable in your room.”

“Okay.” You simply nodded, although your heart was heavily beating against your ribcage.

You knew that as soon as you walked into your house and entered your room with Coryo that things between the two of you would never be the same again. That things would be serious and binding since he swore to never leave your side once he made love to you.

Well, he said the word fuck, but you'd prefer to say making love since it sounds better. Or at least to you it sounds less crude.

But in time Coryo’ll have you saying fuck too, cause he's not a ‘making love' type of man.

The only light in your small room came from the moonlight streaming in from the window. The silver light cast a glow on your naked body as you lay in bed, chest heaving as you wither under Coryo's touch. His head was between your shaky legs, which were slung haphazardly over his squared shoulders.

The only sound in the room was that of your wet pussy squelching obscenely as he fingered you, faster and faster, while using his tongue to flick and lick your clit.

“Coryo…” You mewled, feeling the coil tighten in your lower belly, as you fisted your faded white sheets.

Resting his head against your inner thigh, while continuing to pump his long fingers in and out of your cunt, he told you, “You're close, baby.” In between placing open mouth kisses along your inner thigh, he asked, “You want me to make you cum? Hmm, darling?”

Of course you want him to make you cum. Your head's spinning and your core’s throbbing. There's an itch inside of you that you desperately need scratched; Coryo's the only one that can do that for you. He's the one that has you teetering at the edge of an intense feeling you've never felt before. Of course you want, no need, him to tip you over the edge into nirvana.

“Yes.” You whine. Nodding your head rapidly, you babble, “Please, Coryo, please make me cum.”

Coriolanus' hot breath fans over the soft skin of your inner thigh as he chuckles, hearty and deep, at your response to his question. It amuses him how he has you, a sweet and innocent girl, squirming and begging under him like a seasoned wanton whore. Only for him tho.

Only for him.

Coriolanus moved his fingers faster inside of your tight wet hole while bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucked hard on the swollen bundle of nerves before using his prominent nose to press against it, hard, while running his tongue sloppily over your folds. He was lewdly eating your cunt with such hunger, such vigor.

Your sweet juices tasted heavenly to him. God, he swears you're the best pussy he's ever tasted; he can't get enough of you. He's literally inhaling you as he laps at your folds, sucking your nectar into his mouth as if it’s a magical elixir to cure everything wrong with him. His nose continues to press into your pearl, making friction that sets your nerves on fire. That paired with the curl of his rough fingers hard and fast against the special spongy spot inside of you and his tongue messily passing thru your puffy petals has you seeing stars.

You cum with his name falling from your lips like a prayer, legs quaking and squeezing around his head. Your head thrashes around on your pillow as he continues to eat your cunt while you ride out your high. Coryo's got his hand, the one that's not stuck inside of your pussy, firmly holding down your lower stomach; preventing you from bucking your hips.

As your breathing steadily evens out, the platinum peacekeeper pulls his fingers out of your cunt and lifts his head. Pressing a kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, he tells you, “You've got such a sweet cunt, darling.” Pushing himself up, he raunchily smirks, “Sweeter than honey.”, before sucking your juices off of his fingers.

Your eyes are blown wide by lust and intrigue as you watch Coryo, kneeling between your spread legs in nothing, but his white boxers (which has a wet patch of pre-cum staining them), sucking on two of his long fingers with such erotic fervor. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat and your pussy grew wetter while watching Coryo's eyes flutter as his tongue swirled around his fingers; gathering up all of your juices.

Coriolanus pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a loud, wet pop. Moving off the bed and pulling down his boxers, he smirked, “You're so wet and ready for me, my darling.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head as you took in the sight of Coryo's cock. You've never seen one before, but by the looks of it, well, you knew his was big. It had to be at least 8 inches; was thick too with veins running alongside it. His tip was angry and red, leaking precum.

Coriolanus saw you warily eying up his cock as he took his place kneeling on the bed between your spread legs. Using his hand to spread his pre-cum on his length, to use as lube, he began to give himself a few prep pumps. All while darkly smirking, “Gonna split you open with my big cock, baby.”

Since Coryo's the only man you've ever been with, you're not used to dirty talk. It did turn you on, but you do feel a bit- dunno- flustered by it too. Everything felt like it was happening too fast. Yes, everything you're doing with him feels good, but…still…everything seems so rushed.

As if Coryo has to have you. Has to stake his claim on you.

Well, he does have a primal need to possess you; to own you, but you don't need to know that.

No…

All you need to know is that your boyfriend loves you; wants to show you how much by fucking your brains out and taking your virginity.

“Coryo, is this gonna hurt? I've heard it hurts the girl for the first time.” You ask, looking up into icy blue eyes with apprehension in yours; killing the mood for dirty talk.

Seeing you worried about him hurting you was like a dagger to Coriolanus' heart. He'd never hurt you (not intentionally that is) and he really wants you to enjoy sex. He doesn't want you shying away from it. Hell, he wants you to be comfortable with him fucking you 7 ways til Sunday.

Coryo stopped stroking his cock, only to take your wrists in his hands and place them on his shoulders, all the while giving you assurances of, “Y/N, baby, I won't hurt you. I know I'm big, but I prepped you; your wet enough so I'll just slide on in.”

Nodding, you ask, “Can you go slow?”

“Yea. I'll go slow, baby.” Coryo promised with a kiss before teasingly sliding his cockhead up and down your folds; bumping your clit once or twice too. Lining himself up with your tight hole, he said, “Just hold onto me and try not to be too loud. Yea?”

“Okay.” You nod with a timid smile, hands resting on his shoulders, as he holds onto your hip with his free hand.

Coryo pressed a lingering kiss to your lips before pushing his cock into your tight cunt. The feeling of his tip entering you and stretching you out for the first time stung. But it also felt good in a way that you couldn't describe. Your wet hole greedily sucked in his length as he slowly pushed into you.

Damn, does Coriolanus think that your tight cunt feels good around his cock. He wants nothing more than to just snap his hips and bottom out deep inside of your tight, wet canal, but he was holding back- barely- because you asked him to go slow. He'll do anything for you, because he's obsessed to the point where he wants to ball and chain you to him forever.

You feel every vein and very ridge of his hard cock as Coryo continues to push into you. Your hold on his shoulders tighten as you feel his tip press against your barrier. Biting your bottom lip, you brave yourself for the pain of having your barrier broken. But that pain never comes.

No, you just feel a sharp prick; a burning sting, as your cherry's popped. You do let out a strangled whine as Coryo pushes the rest of the way in; bottoming out and causing a large bulge to become visible in your lower stomach.

“You're such a good girl, darling. Taking me so well.” Coryo praised, looking down at where you're joined. “Look, baby.” He instructed. Pressing a hand to the bulge in your stomach; causing you to let out a throaty mewl, he proudly boasted, “Look how deep I am, how I'm in your womb.”

“Oh…” You trailed off, eyes wide with shock, as you listened to your boyfriend and looked down.

True enough, his cock was deep inside of you. You could see it protruding from your lower belly. It shocked you, mostly since you didn't know it was possible for him to be buried so deep inside of you.

“Fuck…” Coryo swore, his baritone heavy and thick with need. “You're cunt's so tight; feels so damn good around my cock.”

He tilted your chin up slightly, only to bend down and give you a kiss. A kiss that was fiery; full of passion and teeth. Pulling away, he grabbed a hold of your leg and hiked it up over his hip, only to slowly drag his cock out of your tight hole and push it back in again- starting the first movements of your fucking.

Coryo's pace was measured, but his thrusts were deep. With every move that he made, you're feeling pleasure start to bubble up inside of you. At some point, in an attempt to get him to go deeper, you hike up your other leg on his hip.

“Does my cock feel good pounding this pussy, baby? Hmm?” Coryo asked, grabbing a hold of your legs and folding them tightly into your chest. “Huh, baby? Am I fucking you good?” He asked, plunging in and out of you at a hard, fast pace.

Coryo knows, even if you don't, by the way your cunt’s twitching and clenching around his cock that you’re gonna be cumming soon. That your pussy’s fluttering cause she needs pounding; needs fucked hard and raw to drool and squirt out an orgasm.

“Yes, Coryo.” You nod, nails digging into his biceps as you feel your core ache with desire. “Yes, you're fucking me so good.”

“Your cunt's so greedy for my cock, baby.” He huskily told you. Leaning his head down, close to your ear, he whispers in a smug, but filthy tone, “Fuck, you're close again. I can feel that pussy clenching my cock, desperate to milk me dry.”

“Yea.” You desperately agree with him. Feeling the coil start to tighten in your lower belly, for the second time tonight, you plead, “Please, Coryo, make me cum again. Please.”

“Fuck, I love it when you beg for my cock like a wanton whore.” Coriolanus admitted, his tone hoarse with lust, as he looked down at you with undying desire in his blown pupils.

The only sounds in the room are your moans, the obscene sound of your wet squelching cunt, skin slapping against skin, and the creaking of your bed’s metal headboard banging against the wall as your boyfriend bends you like a pretzel. Coryo's pistoning in and out of your cunt so fast that his dog tags are starting to bounce between your chests; even smacking you in the face. Feeling bold, you grab his dog tags in your hand and pull him forward by them, only to lean up slightly and capture his lips in a needy kiss.

A kiss that you didn't even know you craved until you planted it on his lush lips.

Coriolanus let out a groan before hungrily kissing you back. Your kiss soon becomes a heated open mouth mess full of spittle trailing down your chins as he plows faster and faster into your cunt. Your lips trace over his, letting out a high pitch moan as you cum hard around his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck, that's so hot.” Coryo moans at the sight of you squirting, soaking his dick, thighs, and the sheets.

Coriolanus has heard of squirting, but has never seen it before. And now that he knows you're a squirter, well he loves you even more than he did before.

“Coryo, please, it's too much.” You begged, starting to feel overstimulation kick in for such an intense orgasm during your first time.

Coryo’s eyes narrowed as he snarled, “I'm not stopping and getting blue balls, Y/N. Just be a good girl and take it til I cum.”

His reaction took you aback. You honestly wasn't expecting it. You really thought that he'd pull out after you told him that it's getting to be too much for you.

“Coryo, I can't take it. It's too much; I’m too sensitive.” You try to reason with him.

But one thing you'll quickly learn is that there's no reasoning with Coryo. And that's a lesson you're learning right now.

Coryo rolled his icy eyes at you and shook his head before pausing his movements and pulling out of you. You thought that it was over, that he'd take care of himself or maybe even have you touch him, but you're wrong about that.

So wrong.

Instead, Coriolanus grabs you and roughly flips you over onto your stomach. Confused, your try to lift yourself up and look at him over your shoulder. “Coryo-” You begin to ask, only to be roughly shoved down into the mattress face first.

“Don't whine, baby.” The platinum blonde peacekeeper gruffly instruction while pulling up your hips. “I told you, Y/N, that you'll just have to take what I give you cause I'm not fucking getting blue balls tonight.” He sneered while roughly entering your oversensitive pussy in one sharp thrust.

You let out a loud cry, one that Coryo's afraid will wake up the entire neighborhood full of scumbags and gutter rats; send them running over to the sorry excuse of a wooden shack you're in. Bending down, causing the cool metal of his dog tags to brush against your bare back, he hisses right into your ear, “Shut up, bitch. We don't wanna get caught, now do we?”

Coryo didn't bother to straighten up his back. No, he just began pounding into you rough, hard, and fast. His cock was throbbing and he needed to cum. Badly. Right now he was pissed that you tried to push him off of you before he got the chance to shoot his load into your perfect, tight cunt and knock you up.

Hell, he knows you're a virgin, but he wasn't expecting you to get all whiny and panicky at overstimulation. Gods, he hopes you learn your lesson tonight when it comes to his dominance in bed- well while fucking in general cause he knows it's not going to be contained to just the bedroom.

You sobbed into your pillow, hair fanning you like a halo, and hands twisting into your sheets as Coryo pistons in and out of you at a brutal pace. You feel the tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every move he makes along with his cum heavy balls slapping against your puffy, swollen clit, making your cunt burn and ache.

“For whining about not being able to take it, your greedy lil tight cunt's clenching around my cock again.” Your boyfriend mockingky grunts in your ear, his fingers digging painfully into your hips. No doubt you'll have bruises marring them in the morning.

“Coryo…please…please…” You cried desperately into your pillow. Honestly, you're not even sure what you're begging for. Maybe some kind of relief from the intense pressure you're feeling? Yes, that has to be it.

You need relief from what you're currently feeling. The intense push-pull inside of you; the electricity coursing thru your core.

“Shut the fuck up. Damn, bitch, you want your brother to bust in here and pull me off ya ‘fore we both cum?” Coryo sneered, his deep timbre rough, heavy, and dripping with sin.

Fearing that you'd get him caught, since he had no idea if your family's home or not, he pulled you up by the nap of your neck and ordered in a whisper hiss, “Hold onto the headboard, now.”

You did as you're told, stretching your arms out and grabbing the metal rails of your headboard. Before you could even register what was going on, one of Coryo's large, calloused hands wrapped around one of yours while his other hand roughly covered your mouth- literally smothering you.

Your eyes are wide at the new position you find yourself in. Your mind’s overloaded by everything as Coryo picks up his fast, punishing pace pounding your pussy.

Everytime you try to whine or moan, your boyfriend clamps his hand down hard, muffling your cries and causing your jaw to ache. Your body's being jolted back and forth rapidly by Coryo's fast paced movements. Oh God, if you weren't bracing yourself by holding onto your bed frame your head would've been driven thru the thin wooden wall by now.

The cool metal of his dog tags dangles against your back as Coryo hunches over you, possessing your body for his pleasure. He's plowing roughly into you from behind, working both of you up to your orgasms.

He's panting and sweat’s beading his brow as he grits out, “I'm gonna cum, baby.” Feeling your cunt clamping and clenching around his cock, he orders, "You better cum too.”

One, two, three more rough thrusts and Coryo's biting into the crook of your neck, causing you to cry out a strangled sob as your final orgasm of the night hits you hard. His hand falls from your mouth and slips down to lightly squeeze your throat, as he shoots thick, hot ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

Instead of pulling out, he languidly snaps his hips; lazily fucking his seed into your womb.

“Shit, baby, think I just knocked you up?” He asks while gently strumming his thumb against the side of your throat while still keeping a loose grip around it. “You're gonna look so sexy, full and swollen with my baby.”

What the hell? He wants a baby?! Oh boy…Oh no…Oh boy…You weren't expecting to hear that. Suddenly you feel like you're sinking, that everything’s too much and you can't keep yourself afloat. Tears start to spill down your cheeks since you feel overwhelmed by everything.

Coryo stops his lazy movements and lets his now softening cock (which is still big) slip out of your abused hole. He smugly smirks as he watches a slight trickle of red tinted cum slowly falling from your cunt. His chest burns with pride as he sees the red smears on your thighs and his cock- the proof that he took your innocence. That you belong to him and only him from this moment forward.

Coriolanus realized that he pushed you too hard for your first time as he watched your body shaking with sobs. Sighing, he pries your hands off of your headboard and positions the two of you to lay on your bed under the thin blanket, your body tucked into his with your head resting on his chest.

“I know, baby. I know, it was a bit intense, but don't cry.” Coryo told you, wiping your tears away with the rough pad of this thumb. Rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back, he lovingly cooed, “You did such a good job taking what I gave, baby girl.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he did some damage control with a half-hearted apology of, “I'm sorry I pushed you so hard, Y/N. I just love you so much; got caught in the moment.” Softly stroking your cheek, he assured you, “I'll never do anything to purposely hurt you, my darling rose. I've just never been with a virgin before; forgot that you needed a softer touch once things got heated.”

You just nod your head and let Coryo calm you down; lull you into a dreamless sleep wrapped up in his arms.

Your brother, Rein, passed out a few feet from the door as soon as he stumbled into the house. He was so drunk on moonshine that it's a miracle he even made it home before passing out on the street. Which he's done a handful of times before.

Ashlie on the other hand was as sober as a judge and made her way to the bedroom she shares with your brother just fine. Only problem is that her bed’s pressed up against the wall that separates your bedrooms. Hell, your bed and her bed are actually against the same wall.

So, while your brother, Rein, was passed out on the floor snoring in a pile of his own drool (and most likely puke) his girlfriend, Ashlie, was stuck lying awake in bed listening to your platinum blonde peacekeeper boyfriend roughly fuck you and degrade you. It made the barmaid uncomfortable; made her feel bad for you. She feels like you deserve someone better than a peacekeeper that just views you as an easy piece of ass. So, she knows that tomorrow morning she needs to confront you about Coryo; make you a cup of bitter herb tea too- cause gods forbid you fall pregnant with Private Snow's bastard.

Except there's just one problem with Ashlie's assumption. Private Coriolanus Snow doesn't view you as an easy piece of ass; instead he views you as his soulmate. As the future mother of his children; the beautiful girl that he's going to marry and make his First Lady Snow.

To Coryo you're his girl and nothing's going to change that. Now that he's popped your cherry he's never letting you go. The devil himself couldn't tear the two of you apart.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @preteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[hermslore]

Coffee Shop

You and Enid volunteered to work at the Weathervane. She spots a customer flirting with you and decides to have a little fun.

Warning : Smut [Public sex, Pain Kink, Mommy Kink, Dom!Enid, Bottom!Reader, Fingering]

You and Enid ended up being the only staff at the Weathervane, the others leaving for a lunch break. Surprisingly, not many customers were in today, making it easy for you both to manage

A beautiful young lady walked in, and headed to the counter to place her order.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. What can I get you," you asked, with a polite smile.

"I'd like an expresso, please," she said returning the smile. "Alright, may I know your name?" you asked, writing down her order.

"Yoko, but you can call me yours.", she said with a wink and a smirk on her lips. You just smiled awkwardly at her as you were writing down her name. She proceeded to throw even more pickup lines at you, subtly trying to get your number.

What you didn't notice was Enid glaring at the lady from a distance. She had heard the whole interaction as she walked towards you with clenched fists.

She wanted to punch the lady for even trying to flirt with her woman. Walking over to you, she wrapped her hands around your waist, not giving a fuck about the woman across her who was trying to flirt. She noticed how the woman's smile faltered when she showed up.

Enid smiled triumphantly and pecked her girlfriends cheeks with a soft 'hey baby' as Y/N smiled at her actions and continued to take her order.

"So, would you like anyth-" Y/N cut herself off with a small gasp that left her lips when she felt Enid's hand slip inside her pants and brush against Y/N's clothed pussy. "Are you okay?" Yoko asked when she heard Y/N gasp.

"Y-yeah.. so uhm as I was saying, would like something else?" You let out, trying not to moan as Enid pinched your clothed clit. You quickly wrote down whatever Yoko was saying, as you struggled to pay attention when Enid's fingers slipped inside your panties and began to tease your clit.

You shot Enid a warning glance to which she just shrugged, not stopping her movements. You bit your lip to contain your moans as her fingers made their way inside you. Your brain was barely functioning at that point, focusing more on staying quiet rather than Yoko, who was asking you about food recommendations.

"Yeah, there's a restuar-", you cut yourself off biting your lips harshly as you felt Enid's fingers ram inside of you. Your vision almost went black as she hit all the right spots making it difficult for you not to scream out her name, you closed your eyes for a moment before opening them back again. "Are you okay, you look a little pale but also hot when you bite your li-" Yoko was cut off by "She's fine, don't worry. If you're done giving your order, could you please sit down at a table so that we can make it?" Enid said, almost letting out an animalistic growl at her.

Who the fuck does she think she is?

Yoko left, leaving you and your girlfriend behind the counter, alone. "Mommy.." you moaned, her fingers making you feel delicious. She quickly led you towards the washroom, locking it as soon as you both got in.

"Enid, oh god," you whimpered out, her lips trailing kisses down your neck. Her claws extended, leaving scratches on your stomach as you threw your head back at the pleasurable pain.

A loud moan escaped your mouth as her teeth sunk in, biting you to make a hickey. "Mommy.." you said, sighing pleasurably as her fingers made their way inside you again.

Enid smirked, she loved having you like this with your hair messed up, desperately clinging on to her and being a moaning mess. You loved calling her mommy, and you knew it drove her crazy.

"Fuck, baby," you sighed, eyes rolling to the back of your head as she made you cum. Your vision almost going blank for a second at how good the orgasm felt.

"Just wait until we get back, babygirl," she whispered in your ear, your body pressing into the wall she was pinning you to.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

M O O N L I G H T ™

Chapter III

It's late, and the last thing I expect to find at my nightly workout is my little bro, dressed up like a personal trainer. He looks ridiculous in that cheesy uniform, not to mention the light pouring out of his skull and the smile stamped into his face! I guess the little idiot signed up for Moonlight™: that was one helluva mistake!

"Good evening, sir," my brother speaks as if we hadn't grown up together, "Is there any way I can aid your fitness journey tonight?"

Hearing Ryan call me 'sir' brings a devious grin to my own face. I've bullied this kid for years, and now he's kissing my ass like well-trained puppy. Thanks to Moonlight™, my annoying little bro is just a mind controlled employee who doesn't realize his brother's here, let alone embarrassing him! I wish I could get my entire family implanted with these little Moonlight™ things. Messing with them would be hilarious!

"Oh yeah," I sneer, "And what's string bean gonna do for a guy like me?"

"Well, sir, as a personal trainer here at Planet Fitness, I'll gladly demonstrate how to use the machines, spot patrons with heavy-lifting, and return equipment when finished."

God, he sounds even more annoying than usual! "You really think a someone like you could spot me?" I scoff and bring my bicep to his face, flexing it inches away from his perpetually open eyes.

"Actually, sir, this body can lift 260 lbs on the bench press without injury. The load you have is well-enough below to ensure that I may be of service. Still sir, the weight you're lifting is a very respectable amount," Ryan's smile beamed at me, but mine fell.

"Whatever, I'll be fine," I retort, "Just stand over there and mop up my sweat when I'm done."

"Yes, sir."

My little brother takes a step back as I get ready to lift. As stupid as he looks, standing there waiting on me to finish, he also looks pretty fit. His company polo might be sweaty and gross, but it's tight against his improving physique. He's clearly been lifting a lot while he's been working here, but his gains should not count if Moonlight™ is the one actually working out that pathetic little body! The only way he could bulk up was by becoming a fucking puppet! Talk about sad!

"Fuck!" I grunt, tossing the barbell back as I finish. I did a few extra sets to prove a point and now my arms are on fire. "Towel!" I snap.

"Yes, sir," Ryan rushes over and wipes the sweat off my brow. I just laugh in his face.

"I think I got some sweat on my sneakers too," I jab, "You can wipe them off and then put twenty more pounds on the bar."

"Of course, sir."

My brother gets on his knees with the towel, giving my sneakers a cursory buff. I don't know what personal trainer has shoe-shining in his job description, but I've heard these Moonlight™ employees can be pretty pliant. Apparently, you can make them do quite a bit with the loopholes in their programming. Maybe I can get Ryan here to do something even more embarrassing than polishing his big bro's shoes!

The next week, I worked out every night.

Turns out, bullying my little bro was great motivation to go to the gym! When I saw him during the day, I never mentioned the fact that I knew; didn't want to scare him off. At night, I had every opportunity to take out my frustrations on him. If he pissed me off during the day, I could boss him around at the gym, ordering him to follow me around and wipe down every piece of equipment. I could call him whatever names I wanted and yell at him as loudly as I pleased; he had to just stand there with the best customer service smile and say "yes, sir."

Playing around with Ryan was fun, but it wasn't until I went out for a drink that I ran into my second brother. I guess he had the same idea to get hired with Moonlight™...

"Can I fix you a drink, sir?" my brother, the middle child, yells over the club's EDM.

"What the hell?" I shout, "Ryan's dumb enough to Moonlight™, but I didn't think you were!"

Sam just stares back with the same flashlight eyes and widely stretched lips. Of course his programming won't let him do anything outside of bartending! He's probably not even conscious in there! Ryan was always a bit of an impulsive twerp, so I wasn't surprised to see him Moonlighting™, but Sam is different. He'd said he'd never put his body to work at night. Something about the behavior of Moonlighters™ always rubbed him the wrong way...I guess he changed his mind.

"A round of beers," I tell him, warily gesturing to the back corner, "For me and our crew."

Sam's glowing stare looks over my shoulder and sees our friends, the guys we both hang out with, "Yes, sir. I'll have it right out for you."

I return to our pals, anxious for my brother to follow. Sam is only a year younger than myself, so we run around with the same crowd, yet he didn't recognize any of our buds. Now he's about to serve them like a fucking waiter. My catatonic brother is about to walk into the most humiliating situation of his life. I just get to sit back and watch!

"Sam?" one of them asks a moment later.

"Here are your beers, sir," my brother plucks the bottles off his tray and sets them out for each of his friends, completely oblivious to their stunned reactions, "Is there anything else I can get any of you?"

"Holy crap, dude!" another pal turns to me, "Since when did your brother start Moonlight? He looks like a total idiot!"

Sam doesn't seem to register the insult.

"I don't know man," I laugh, "Tonight, I guess."

"Fetch us some napkins," one guy quips with an amused flick of his hand.

"Right away, sir." Sam answers a little too promptly, and whisks away.

"Right away, sir, Ha!" the guy repeats with a mock salute, "We've gotta mess with him!"

Sam returns, obediently passing out napkins, but I'm finding it harder to meet his gaze while he's grinning so manically. This situation is starting to feel more awkward than hilarious. These guys will never let him live this down!

"Sam, get over here and give this paying customer a sloppy BJ!"

My brother stiffens, and for a second a jolt of fear runs down my spine, terrified that Moonlight™ will actually make him comply. Pranks are all good and fun, but I do not want to see my brother about to blow another dude!

"I apologize, sir," he finally resumes, "That is not part of my responsibilities as bartender."

Thank God.

"Then get something to clean this up," he laughs wildly, "You spilled my beer!" Our friend then pours half his drink on the crotch of his jeans, staring at Sam with the amused eyes of a drunk fool. This guy always gets weird after a few drinks. I don't know why we still bring him along. Normally, we just ignore him.

"Of course, sir," Sam answers attentively.

For the next ten minutes, I sit in silent horror as my brother returns with a rag, proceeding to get on his knees and wipe down another man's crotch with painful dedication. Of course, our friends are all howling with laughter at this point, taking video evidence that they can embarrass Sam with later.

It feels like a lifetime, but Sam finally stands up, "I hope I cleaned that up well enough for you, sir."

The guy feels at his wet jeans, saying, "I don't know if that's good enough, bitch."

"I'm sorry, sir, let me try ag-"

"No! It's my turn," someone else cuts in, pushing his way to the front, "You spilled some on my ass that needs cleaned up!"

The gang loses it, doubling over with laughter as Sam prepares to spend the next ten minutes wiping down another guy's ass, but I've had enough, "No! We're done here, thank you. Go close our tab," I bark.

"Yes, sir," Sam turns on his heel. His dumb obedience is more disturbing than entertaining at this point.

Our friends all give me a hard time for sending him away, but I'm not having it. Maybe I'm not drunk enough, but they're enjoying this a lot more than I am. At this point, I'm ready to call it a night and go home, so I say my goodbyes and head for the exit.

The walk home isn't a far one, but I pass a few notable places on the way: one being my dad's dark office building. Our old man has been working late nights there lately. In the dimly lit lobby, I recognize someone...

"Dad?" I gasp.

"Good evening, sir," my father says to me without any note of familiarity in his voice.

"Wait, you're moonlighting too?" it comes out as more of an accusation, but at this point I'm fed up with finding family members secretly working random mind-controlled night jobs.

"I am a security guard employed through the Moonlight™ corporation," his gravelly voice sounds foreign, delivering these programmed prompts, "If you'd like, sir, I can help you apply for a Moonlight™ position, and you can start making the most of your sleeping hours too!"

"Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea, dad?" I ask, knowing this stupid security guard persona isn't capable of answering.

"He didn't."

The voice of someone else in the room sends shivers down my spine. I whip around, and see a gangly, middle-aged man stepping forward.

"Jeff?"

"Hi, Jamie," my uncle says, sauntering up to his far taller brother and resting an arm on his shoulder. My dad's attentive posture doesn't waver. He just keeps on acting like the perfect sentry for the building and the perfect armrest for his brother.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on!?"

He sniffles and sighs like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "Yes, I suppose this charade of mine was doomed to be found out sooner or later. I put your father in the Moonlight™ database. He was just wasting his sleeping hours at home in his bed, and he'd always refuse to let me sign him up, so I did it in secret. He makes a great guard. Right Tom?"

Uncle Jeff claps my dad on the back, prompting him to announce a proud, "Yes, sir!"

"See," my uncle turns back to me, "No harm done. Your old man gets paid to stand around in his sleep. Its harmless!"

"But he doesn't know!" I yell, seething at my uncle's sheer abuse of his place in the company, "This has to be illegal, and are you just pocketing Dad, Ryan, and Sam's salaries?"

He rolls his eyes, "I am right now, but the four of you don't even make that much."

"Did you just say the four of us?" I grunt.

"Oops," he holds a hand to his forehead and curses under his breath.

"AM I FUCKING MOONLIGHTING WHILE I SLEEP TOO?" I am screaming at this point, "You're fucked up!" I bark. Angrily, I stomp towards my uncle, but my father takes a firm step planting himself between me and the man. His steady palm is holding the baton at his belt, making me nervous. Is my dad about to beat me up for this creep?

"Excuse me, sir," my dad smiles at my uncle, "Would you like me to escort this man out of the building?"

"That won't be necessary," my uncle says, "I'll just trigger his Moonlight™ shift to start now. You can go back to standing in the corner"

"Yes, sir," my security guard father answers placidly, returning to his attentive stance.

"You wouldn't," I snarl.

"Oh, trust me, I will. As I understand it, overriding a subject's body while awake means you'll be fully conscious. I'll work on something to make you forget this whole incident later."

He presses a few buttons on an ipad, and suddenly my vision is engulfed in a purple haze. My back straightens, my muscles relax, and I feel my face contorts into a giant smile. Suddenly, my entire body seems to be gone from my grasp, and I'm constrained to a tiny space in my head while something else takes over.

"Enjoy your shift," my uncle snickers with a glare.

"Thank you, sir. I will," I feel my voice pushed out of my throat with an excited tone that isn't mine. Before I know it, my legs are carrying me away from my uncle, leaving him with my father, to march down the dark street...

"Here's your order, sir," my voice has the trademarked Moonlight™ eagerness in it as I reach out the window and hand over the meal.

"Fuck off, sleep-freak!" the teen in the driver's seat flips me off, making his immature friends cackle as they speed off. I can't do anything but smile and watch as they weave away. They have no idea I'm actually conscious in here.

After being forced to leave my uncle, I found myself striding into a fast food restaurant through its backdoor. I could instantly tell the place wasnt anywhere I'd eat at because the dumpster smelled like soggy fries and old meat. The kitchen was a fluorescent-lit pit, with a thick feeling of oil hanging in the air. I could barely take in the surroundings before I was changing out of my clothes by some lockers. I was horrified that Moonlight™ was making me fucking strip, but before long my hands were pulling on new clothes: a uniform. The polo felt like it'd been sitting at the bottom of the locker since the last shift, drying in sweat, and the pants were sticky with something unidentifiable. I was mortified to be pulling on a fucking hairnet and apron, but I had no choice.

"Blondie's here early," a smoker's voice purred from behind me. I had a bad feeling he'd been standing there for a while, watching.

"Hello boss," my voice answers, apparently recognizing the overweight, unshaved creep, "I'm ready to start my shift, sir! Where am I needed today?"

I watched as the man licked his stubbly lips, his beady eyes crawling all over me. Without any shame, his sweaty palm groped the growing bulge in his khakis. He was obviously happy to see me, and he probably thought I couldn't actually see him! I guess, every fucking night that my uncle's made me work in my sleep, I've been under the supervision of THIS pervert!?

"Get to the fryer," his scratchy throat moaned, "You know I want you to get nice and sweaty for later."

"Yes, sir. I'll be sure to work up a sweat for you," I answer, confused and disturbed by my response. The cheer in my voice did not match the overwhelming gloom I felt when the man slapped my ass. His hand lingered on my rear for too long, but I couldn't even frown.

Since then, I've been boiling fries and flipping burgers. Every so often I have to hand an order out the window, but my heart races every time I do. Three orders ago, the customer threw their soda back at my coworker, he's a fairly average guy in his thirties, and he was dowsed in Coca-Cola. It didn't keep Moonlight™'s programming from working: he just kept manning the grill, smiling, eyes glowing, and hair dripping with cherry flavored juice.

"Ouch!" at least, that's what I want to say. The oil sizzles and pops, and a few drops of hot grease splatter onto my arm, but I don’t flinch. The control won’t let me.

Suddenly I feel someone leaning in behind me. My spine shivers as my manager says, "It's closing time, Blondie. I'll send everyone home so you and I can clean up like usual." He whispers it in my ear, with his flabby arms wrapped around me like we're fucking lovers! I wish I could vomit!

"Sounds good, boss," I find myself saying.

One by one, the manager dismisses each of my moonlighting coworkers. I can't help but feel jealous as they strip out of their uniforms by the door. It isn't just that they get to leave; they also have the luxury of not knowing what's going on. They're all asleep. I'd give anything to at least be unaware of whatever this fucking pervert is about to do!

My body is preoccupied with whatever shit needs to be done for closing, wiping down the tables, taking out the trash, and more.

"Mop time," the manager suddenly announces, holding the raggedy thing out expectantly.

"Yes, sir," my voice answers, and I drop what I'm doing to accept the mop. The crotch of his pants is unzipped, but my bodies already turned away from him, turning all my attention to swab the tiles floor.

"You're doing it wrong again, Blondie," he purrs slowly, "I'm gonna have to help you like usual."

"Thank you, sir," my voice sounds grateful, but I am anything but. The pervert presses his rotund body against my back and holds my muscular arms with his own chubby ones. I can feel his penis poking into me below his gut, but my body accepts his touch like he's just a boss helping out an employee.

I guess this asshole found a loophole in Moonlight™'s fucking programming. He's going to touch me all he wants under the guise of demonstrating the right way to mop.

The creep spends the next ten minutes guiding my arms back and forth. "Fuck, you're bubble butt feels even better than usual, Blondie," he breathes in my ear. If I had control of my muscles, he wouldn't stand a chance, but right now, they're putty in my boss's arms. Meanwhile, his waist gets busy dry humping his chode into my rear end. "I'm so glad a jock like you was dumb enough to try Moonlight!" he grunts, his tongue dangerously close to my ear. I can only thank God that he can't take my pants off! After several painful minutes of him spitting more disgusting comments onto my cheek, his arms drop mine and plant themselves on my chest. His hands sloppily grope my pecs and pinch my nipples. I've never felt more pathetic. The man makes one final exclamation, "FUUUCK!" and I can tell he has finally gotten off.

"Thanks for the help, boss," I find myself saying.

With heavy breaths, he staggers back. The sudden open air on my back makes me realize just how hot and sweaty that slob was, and I can feel the slimy remnants of his balls slipping down my back and legs.

"Good job as always, Blondie," he breathes heavily with satisfaction.

"Thank you, sir," I answer. My voice hasn't lost its awful chipper quality, and my face is still stuck in a smile like I hadn't just been taken advantage of.

"Finish mopping up, and then you can lock up and clock out," he winks as if we shared some inside joke. I hate that all he sees is my smile.

"Yes, sir," I answer, but the creep has already waddled out of the building and slammed the door shut.

The sudden silence is unbearable. It makes the monotonous task of mopping the sticky floors all the more unpleasant. What's worse is that I can't pause to wash the manager's cum off my back. It soaks into my pants as I work, trapped in my own body. At least I know why these pants are so sticky. Honestly, I hope Uncle Jeff will wipe my memory...

[eggluverz]

hello!! would like to request a modern au with blade, where he’s a idol and due to him being busy with work, he didn’t have the time to visit/spend time with the reader (can be gn! or fem!). hence, he took it upon himself to surprise his s/o

bonus points if they are in a secret relationship and let’s say the reader works as a barista, so imagine the chaos the cafe will be if they see idol! blade having a lover SHSHDHDH

take ur time to write it hehe :3

— EVERYTHING I NEED

In which you’re feeling down about not seeing your boyfriend in a few months and Blade takes time out of his busy tour schedule to surprise you.

PAIRING. idol!blade x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 1780

GENRE. modern au, idol au, fluff

NOTE. thank u for the request !! <3 i chose gn reader btw :) this was soooo much fun to write ٩( ᐛ )و i enjoyed this sm but warning it’s so very cheesy heh if u don’t like fluffy romcom cringe look away :3 hope y’all like it xx sof

It wasn’t always easy having a long distance boyfriends of sorts. A busy long-distance boyfriend who you sometimes didn’t see in person for months on end. 

You knew he was busy, but you also knew he dedicated most of his free time talking to you. The relationship was important to the both of you— There was no doubt in your mind about that. Still, there were times the sadness and loneliness crept in. 

Today was one of those days. 

It wasn’t a “special” day as one would say. It wasn’t your birthday. It wasn’t Blade’s birthday. And it wasn’t even an anniversary. But still, you missed him so much. 

You had gone months without seeing him. Your only solace was knowing Blade has gone just as long without seeing you and missed you just as much. He has been in and out of the recording studio whenever he had time in between performances, which limited your ability to call or even text each other even more. 

You were aware the life of an idol could get hectic at times, you knew that well before the two of you started dating. But at times, it took more of a toll on you than you would expect. 

“What’s gotten you so down in the dumps?” The voice took you out of your negative thoughts.

You turned to look at your close friend and coworker, Serval. You sighed, thankful afternoon rush hour had just died down so only few customers were at the coffee shop. “Nothing, really. Just missing Blade.”

She patted your back sympathetically. “I can only imagine. It’s hard enough barely seeing my brother because of military service.”

“How is Gepard, by the way? I haven’t seen him in ages!” 

“He’s coming back for a bit next month! We’re having a little party if you want to come,” said Serval excitedly. “But back to you and Blade. When is the last time you saw him?” 

“Over two months,” you said with a pout. You knew some people in long distance relationships would view that as nothing— Some would even be grateful that a month of not seeing their partner was a long time. But that wasn’t you and you felt yourself growing more dejected each day. “We haven’t even video chatted or called for longer than ten minutes in the last few weeks.” You tried to look on the bright side. “But at least I know he’s doing what he loves. I just hope management isn’t pushing him too hard.” 

“That’s a big ask for money-hungry corporations,” Serval said dryly. “Poor boy is definitely overworked. Have you seen their back to back show dates? It’s all over social media. I’m sure he’s using any possible moment he can to spend time with you without being too obvious and letting the press know about your relationship.” 

You nodded, trying to cheer yourself up the moment you saw a group of customers walk in. It was the end of work hours for most office workers around here so you mentally prepared yourself to give your best customer service smile. “I know he is doing his best. I just get sad about it sometimes, but I know it’s all worth it.”

“There you go.” She smiled. “And you’ll see him in no time, I’m positive. But for now, get ready for the evening rush!”

“One step ahead of you,” you sang, already at the cash register prepared to take the orders. 

As you greeted the hoard of customers and helped your coworkers make drinks if they needed extra hands, you realized the rush lasted longer than normal. 

“Is today international coffee day or something?” you asked as you passed by Serval. “It’s crazy busy right now.”

She shrugged, placing two drinks down at the ready table. “Not that I’m aware of. But this has been more than a rush hour. The sun isn’t even out anymore.”

“And people are coming in without buying anything or sitting down?” 

As you wondered what was going on, you heard a loud, high-pitched scream coming from outside. The sound was followed by more and more squeals of excitement. 

You and Serval looked at each other. 

“Speak of the devil,” she said, shaking her head with a grin. “What a grand entrance.”

All reason left your mind as you were filled with hope and joy. You looked back at Serval, asking for permission to leave the cash register. 

“Go,” Serval laughed. “I’ll cover the rest of your shift.” 

“Thank you! I love you!”

With a big smile on your face, you rushed out of the coffee shop and pushed through the crowd outside. Standing tall above the group of fans, Blade stood there with black sunglasses and a face mask— A poor disguise that did little to nothing to protect his identity. 

You lifted your hand up and waved from the back of the crowd, unsure if he would even be able to spot you amidst all the people. You wondered, even, if you should acknowledge him like this in public. You knew the press was crazy and the fans could be even crazier. Blade’s manager thought it was for the best he keep your relationship away from public eye. 

But he was right here. And you didn’t want to wait another second before running up to him and giving him the biggest hug. Still, you refrained. 

You did not want to jeopardize his image, no matter how much you wanted to give him a kiss right now.

Blade looked around the crowd before his gaze landed in your general direction. He lifted his shades to expose his captivatingly red eyes. When he saw you, he gave you a crooked smile. 

“There you are,” he called, his deep voice rumbling over the muffled chatter of his fans. “It’s been too long.”

He maneuvered through the crowd, ignoring all the photos his fans were taking of him. The only thing Blade was paying attention to was you. Not caring you were in front of a large crowd, Blade immediately takes you into his arms. Time stops as you feel yourself melt into his embrace. The scent of his expensive cologne filled your senses, your face warm as it laid flushed against his chest. 

“I missed you,” he murmured into your hair. 

“I missed you, too,” you said. “But when did you get here? I thought you were in another continent? And are we allowed to be like this in public?” 

As happy as you were to be with him, you didn’t want to get him in any sort of trouble with his management company. 

“I got here just a few hours ago.” Blade rubbed slow circles on your back, not releasing you from his embrace. “I have a show in two days but I needed to see you. And, yeah, I might get in trouble by management but who cares?” 

You pulled back urgently, looking up at him in concern. “You should care! I don’t want you to put your career in danger.” 

Blade frowned and closed to distance between the two of you once more. “Management has worked me to the bone for years, if they want me to keep working for them, then they’ll have to put up with this being public. I’m tired of hiding you.” 

Your arms wrapped around him, a small giggle escaping your lips at how ridiculous this must have looked to the public. You didn’t like being in a secret relationship either. You knew it was for his work, but when you happened to watch his interviews and had to hear him lie and say he was single, it hurt your heart, just a little. 

“Besides, at this point in my career, I’m sure they need me more than I need them,” he said with a cocky look on his face. Even with his mouth and nose covered by the mask, you could see it in the crinkle of his eyes. 

“That’s my Bladie,” you teased, running your fingers through his tangled hair. “Mr. Popular and you know it.” 

“And I also know I want to be alone with you right now,” Blade said with a smirk. “Is your shift almost over? Let’s go back home once it ends.” 

“Serval said she’ll cover the rest of my shift for me. We can go home now.” 

“Thank you, Serval,” he said happily. Blade held your hand as he lead you to his car. “I might have to drive a little fast to lose the fans that’ll inevitably try to follow us. Is that okay?”

You noted his mischievous smile and laughed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the thought of escaping them excites you.” 

“I’m a simple man.” He opened the passenger door for you and gave you a small slap on the ass as you crawled in. “Buckle up, baby.”

“I can’t believe you did that with everyone watching!” you cried as he gently shut the door. You shook your head even though you knew he couldn’t see it. “It’s a good thing I love you.” 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

When you woke up the next morning, your phone was filled with texts from your friends. You opened Serval’s first. 

Serval: LOL guess who’s famous now

Serval: #CoffeeShopASScape #BladieOnTheLoose ... all the trending hashtags are about you and Blade

Serval: I wish you luck LMAO

You stifled a laugh, only mildly concerned about what people had to say. As you shuffled around on the bed, Blade stirred awake. He inched closer to you and lazily draped his arm around your waist. 

“G’morning,” he mumbled. 

“Good morning,” you greeted, kissing his forehead. “Blade… Have you checked your phone yet?” 

“Yeah, when I woke up an hour ago. My manager let me know just how much chaos I caused over voicemail. Then I decided to go back to sleep with you and deal with it later,” he said simply. 

“Blade!” 

He noticed the furrowed crinkle between your brows and he rubbed it away with his thumb. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll get it all sorted out eventually. All that matters is I’m here with you right now.” 

“You’re right. Let’s enjoy this before you have to go back on tour,” you said, placing your phone on your nightstand and ignoring the notifications lighting up your phone. “And if damage control is too hard to deal with, know that I’m always here for you. I’ll answer your call even if it’s in the middle of the night here.” 

Blade cupped your face and softly kissed your lips. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

“I ask myself the same thing,” you said with a smile. “Now, wanna get some coffee?”

[mediocreanomaly]

NESTING? PLS 😭 like ARE WE CONNECTED SOMEHOW this is so good

i have drowsy knives purring himself to sleep stuck in my head now--THIS IS LITERAL GOLD 😭 it would take a v special s/o to pick up the slight nuances of his emotions too n he'd be head over heels 🥺

but nesting instincts 🥺 please for the love of everything knives elaborate i i i wanna know all there is to know ab this man 🥺👉👈

n maybe vashy seperately too?? 🥴

Authors Note: Turned this into a full post because I'm procrastinating my drabbles anyways lmao this is going to give away a teeny tiny bit of my uncanny Vash post I'm making but I love talking about the Twins and their less than human instincts

Savern Twins Nesting HC's

Knives

•Knives is surprisingly the less embarrassed of the twins about nesting instincts, this is solely based on the fact that he doesn't see his plant qualities to be anything to be ashamed about, it's just another thing that sets him apart from humans

•Although, no one (besides you) knows about Knives nest. You may wonder how the two points can co-exist but that because a Plant's nest is supposed to be somewhere secure and safe. So while he's not embarrassed that he has a nest, he's not going to openly talk about it and risk giving away someone trying to get a peek of it (not that he really openly talks about anything)

•Knives nest is big, he had a bed custom made that's larger than a kings but circular and with plush raised walls so it feels not secure and less in the open. He's collected various blankets and pillows that fill the empty space so that he can bundle up under them, all of it is white because he refuses to let his nest look ugly or disorganized

•He's a perfectionist too so he spends a lot of time organizing and reorganizing his nest. Every time he gets a new blanket or pillow to add he has to redo the whole thing to make sure it's in the perfect spot or else he refuses to sleep in it

•Now Knives doesn't have to sleep much like he doesn't have to eat, but sleeping is something enjoys. He stresses about his plans a lot even if he doesn't show it outwardly. What better way to destress than napping in his nest?

•Whenever he decides to officially make you his mate (yes he calls it that, what else is he supposed to call it? Everything else sounds too human) all his instincts will scream at him to burrow into his nest

•For awhile you'll actually be hard pressed to even be allowed out of the nest, because why would you want to leave? As your mate Knives needs to keep you safe, and where's the safest place in the world? His safest place in the world, so please stop trying to leave the nest- you're hungry? fine he'll bring you food that you can eat in the nest

•I honestly don't think Independents hold body heat because their sisters live in water, which is one of many reasons they nest. It's also why Nai will drag you in with him when he wants to sleep so he can bum off your body heat. That's when when you learn he can purr (yeah thats right Plants purr propaganda) naps like this are the best. It's hard to stay awake when he's got you cuddled under blankets, gentle rumbles lulling you asleep

•After awhile you'll be allowed out so long as you are by his side or being escorted by Legato, or atleast unless you get pregnant

•If Knives manages to get you pregnant...you are banished to the nest again. It's not so bad though, besides he likes you like this. All round and full of his child, surrounded by plush comforters and pillows that cradle your form. At this point he won't leave your side unless he has to, if his instincts were bad before then they are haywire now, he stays curled up with you because theres no way you'd be able to defend yourself in a state like this, it's his job as your mate to keep you and his unborn child safe and sound, tucked away from the rest of the world

•When the baby is born it's where you'll spend most your time too, I mean...c'mon think about it. Your little one all tucked against you and Nai curled protectively around both of you, gentle purrs from both him and your baby as both their plant markings glow ever so slightly? If there's such thing as heaven this is it

•Knives has purposely made his nest large enough to hold his growing family, so no matter how many children you have you'll all get to curl up in the nest to find comfort or just to sleep.

•I think unfortunately once the children hit a certain age they are kicked out of the nest lol, it's more reserved for a Plants mate and young ones, so starting at maybe teen age it's time for them to make their own nest

•This isn't to say they aren't ever allowed in at all though. If Knives children are in any sort of distress his instincts kick in telling him to make sure their safe so in times like that they are still allowed in, the purpose of the nest is to provide him and his family with safety and comfort so no matter what it's there waiting for you

Vash

•Vash is admittedly a bit more embarrassed about the fact that he nest

•He tries his best to blend in with humans and thinks that people might find it weird that his instincts are constantly telling him to grab every soft thing he can find and hunker down

•Not that it really matters because he's always on the run anyways, he doesn't have time to stop and nest in the first place which makes it an easy an excuse to not nest at all, so Vash doesn't have a nest...right?

•Wrong. Like I said it's instinct and even Vash can't help but begin to nest in whatever shitty motel room he's in, especially if he's had a really rough day and just wants to sleep.

•Vash's nest is...admittedly a bit more pitiful than Knives. Knives has the advantage of staying in one spot, Vash does not, so he doesn't have a single nest but more so a hastily made one consisting of anything soft he can find. old blankets, pillows, clothes, rags, and even his own coat all make up his haphazard resting place.

•When he meets you though oh boy does it make it harder to resist the urge to stay and make a nice big nest for the two of you to hide away in

•It takes awhile for you to learn of Vash's little habit because he tries really hard to hide it away. He doesn't want you to think he's weird so when he does show it to you and you don't react negativly he's shyly asking, "do you...want to get in it?"

•Please say yes, his heart can't take any other answer. After that Vash is more keen on nesting even though the two of you travel, you even buy him a couple blankets that you pack up and bring so that he has something more consistant to nest with. The two of you will arrive at the motel for the night and you sit on the bed watching as Vash sleepily mulls over the blankets, pillows, and clothes he's choosen and organses it in a satisfactory way before he weakily pulls you in with him, purring as he cuddles up to you

•If you run your hand through his hair you'll be rewarded with more purrs and him nuzzling into your hand, but don't comment on it or he'll get embarrassed and hide his face into the blankets while he pulls away

•Vash wouldn't try to get you pregnant unless it was after he dealt with his brother and at that point I think he'd have a more permanent nest. Whether that's on Ship 3 or your own little home he's finally got a spot that he knows is always there, perfect to keep you in while you grow your baby!

•Vash loves spending time in the nest, it's from a mixture of putting off his instincts so long when he was on the run and the fact he actually has a place of comfort for once that does it, so if you can't find your partner...he's most likely buried in the nest

•It's super cute though, you'll walk in the room and softly call "Vash?" and his head will peak out of the mountain of blankets eyes still half lidded with sleep and hair all messy as he says a soft "hmm?"

•This nest is still a bit more messy and it's one of those "it looks disorganized but Vash know exactly where everything is" situations, he doesn't really care about colors or anything, infact it's proably mostly blankets that other people have gifted him over the years, he feels like it tells a story

•Unlike Knives, you'll have to be the one to eventually kick the kids out of the nest once they get older because "what do you mean they can't stay in here with us? Their still our baby!" "Vash their 20" "and?"

•Vash's plant marks always appear when he's in the nest, he can't help it! It's so comforting, besides he has you here warming him up and your kids cuddled in the covers- oop he's crying, don't worry they're happy tears

After note: I hope you liked it!!! I wanted to add more stuff about you being able to read Knives but it didn't really fit so that might have to be saved for another list I'm a firm "the boys do weird but cute animal things" believer and it's my job to infect people with that propaganda

[eri-lessthan3]

Hey you

all of you complaining about tumblr live

Seethe and cope 😎

Okay but seriously

Get yourself the Stylus extension For Firefox users: https://addons.mozilla.org/en-GB/firefox/addon/styl-us/ and for everyone else: https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/stylus/clngdbkpkpeebahjckkjfobafhncgmne

Get the Old Tumblr Dashboard Style: https://userstyles.world/style/11286/old-tumblr-dashboard-2023

You should get this stuff even if you don't plan to remove tumblr live :3 Now here is where the magic comes from:

Stylus allows you to add custom css styles to websites, and you can edit themes made by other people to fit your needs!

See that little fucker? How about we fuckin g kill it?

Press f12 to open the Developer Tools (or however it is called lmao)

Click on this little guy

Now you can select an element on the website, and it will show where it is in the html!

3. Point

Click on it, and now we will see something like this in the inspector!

Collapse a bunch of this stuff, since here we only care about the list items, or <li>

These are the different buttons in the banner

Now, how do we fucking kill that guy?

There are a number of ways to do this, so let's start with the simplest one

Delete

Just select the list item that has the title "Live" and press delete!

So it is gone now, right?

Well... not really. If you refresh the page, it is back. Which makes sense, since the only thing we did is remove that part of the "code" (if you can call html "code"), but when we refreshed it, the server gave us a version of the site that obviously had the button still there.

So what is a smarter way to get rid of it?

While you can't really delete a specific part of the site with just css, you can hide it! To do that, all you have to do is apply the style display: none;

Like that! While it doesn't fix the problem with the refresh, it brings us closer to the solution.

Remember when we got Stylus? yeah!

Go inside of it (😳), and inside the Old tumblr dashboard theme (😳😳), and now we just need to apply the css style of "remove that fucker" to the specific list item. How do we do that, since we can't add it directly into html? We use the attribute selector, and we look for title="Live"!

Where do I write this????

Well, css applies the styles from top to bottom of the style sheet (usually, this post is already too long), and you see how the list item has a few classes assigned to it? It so happens that they also modify the display property, so we have to override it by putting our selector after those in the css sheet... so basically you can just write the thingie at the end 😅

Here is how the attribute selector works!

the .IYr09 part is that specific class, so that if there is ever something on this page that has the title="Live" but isn't what we are looking for, it won't apply there (You don't need to do this, but whatever). The attribute selector is written in the square brackets, and you just... write the attribute that you are looking for there ;P

(I also did the same for the Explore button, but that can be an exercise for the interested ;P)

And now, BEHOLD

(How am I so popular that I got dms during the making of this >.&lt;)

And it will stay like this, forever*

*except if something happens to the addon, theme, css of it or whatever, but you get the point!

[pray4saint]

Hello! Currently thinking about dteam and chuckle sammich honeymoon hc's! Where you'd go, what you'd do, how was IT was mm

dteam & chuckle sammy on their honeymoons

dteam masterlist & chuckle sammy masterlist & descrip. pg. 13+. gn!reader.

a/n. omg bae, i've got you! also thoughts like these are gonna be rotting my brain for the next month / nsfw versions: dteam / chuckle sammy

dream

either hawaii or france.. idk what to tell you he's a cheeseball, sticks with the classics OR on the complete opposite, somewhere thailand (but for the sake of my sanity and writing ability we're going with kona, hawaii)

definitely picked a b&b over a hotel, he wanted the privacy for that first night as a wedded couple

leaving around 11am to go to beaches all day or go shopping

when you're out shopping, he always finds a way to not-so-subtly mention that you guys have just gotten married / he thinks he's subtle

standing in a pacsun, the cashier scanned the tags of the clothes you were buying, asking the usual customer service questions, ”how are y'all doing, did you find everything okay?” and you look up at your husband before nodding, but he still spoke up, ”doing good, we just got married, this is spouse, and yeah,” he turns to you, ”i think we found everything okay.” ”mhm.” you smile at his incessant need to announce that you're married.

tbh powerbottom!dream but in an absolutely sfw, fluffy way / how he looks at you with, essentially, heart eyes when he says something begging for your approval but also making it widely known that you're his and that you're married every chance he gets

dream most definitely has that 'nothing can bring me down' mentality while on your honeymoon

also in the evenings when the sun sets and you're sat next to him or on his lap, he thanks any and every higher power he's ever heard of that you came into his life because you're stunning and he loves you so much and can't imagine his life without you

doesn't even register if fans come up and ask for a picture until you point them out, he's just so invested in you

he also doesn't get on any of his social media except to post the occasional instagram story despite how much you told him it was fine and you didn't mind if he checked twitter or updated his snap story

”clay, aren't your fans gonna worry if you go MIA from twitter?” you set your notebook aside, turning to face him. ”no honey i'm gonna spend time with you, they can wait.” he smiles at you. ”yeah i know but-” ”no buts. they can wait.”

also he inevitably gets sick on the last day of your honeymoon, which is fine because you were getting tired of going out every day / you made him soup with the small amount of food you'd bought at the local costco and he finally took to twitter to tell them how wonderful you were being

sapnap

i think he's taking you on 2 honeymoons, the first is for two weeks in texas to spend time with his family, just so you know you can always depend on them when you need them

the other is for three weeks in greece; the people, the culture, the food, he loves it and he wants to surround you in it

probably picked a hotel over a b&b

also on all the flights, during airport security, in taxis/ubers, when waiting for flights, in the hotel, he kept repeating the same words

mrs./mr./mx. armstrong, he just loves saying it, SO MUCH

”i love you, [mrs./mr./mx.] armstrong.” your newlywed husband spins you in his arms, pulling you flush against his chest. ”i know mr. armstrong, and i love you.” you press a kiss to his lips, trying to get out of his arms to get back to unpacking your suitcase

i think for activities, lots of lunches out and dinners in

also a whole lot of museums and art galleries and ancient ruins, spending time talking about greek mythology and your own theories and opinions on it

sap also sometimes calls you bro on accident and you sometimes call him dude still and all you guys can ever say about it is 'it is what it is'

”what are you gonna get, bro?” he asks as he closes his own menu. he didn't even realise what he said, but the waiter did, and he just watched with intent, unsure of what was happening. ”i don't know dude, whatever you're having i guess.” you close your menu. the waiter speaks up, ”i'm sorry i know it's none of my business but uhm- are you two not, married?” he sounds nervous, as if he thinks he's interrupted some secret affair. ”wh- what? we're married. we've been married.” sap is the one to point it out, taking your hand in his. ”ah, it was just how you called each other 'dude', and 'bro'.” the waiter laughs nervously, walking away with the order written down. in unison, ”it is what it is.”

i also think he takes you shopping because he believes the people who gave you the best wedding gifts should also get a gift in return in addition to a thank you card

lots of hand swinging with your left hand to show off your ring, and hugging in lines, and kissing-bordering-on-making-out in public, he just has no reason not to anymore, you're married

george

george couldn't decide where you went for awhile, so he asked of your friends and his friends and ended up at first with iceland (this is george guys remember) but then changed his mind and picked italy and romania, one week in each

b&b >>> hotels with george, he prefers the privacy

he spent months before the wedding trying to learn the basics of the italian and romanian languages despite how widespread english is

definitely takes you out to eat A BUNCH, except for two nights in each country where you and him cooked dinner for yourselves

you can expect lots of late mornings and late nights with george, he just can't get enough of his new spouse

definitely emphasises your last name being davidson whenever there's a reservation or when he feels the staff is being a little too forward

”last name?” the host asked, eyes glued to the kiosk screen in front of him. ”mr. and mx. davidson.” your husband smiled at you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

takes you to a store at the start of the trip so you have food where you're staying / bonus if you convince him to go to a farmers' market

every day of the trip you and him have set aside an hour to talk to your respective friends on the phone (he's louder)

also forgets to tell you that he booked a redeye for the first flight out of italy/romania because when he booked it he forgot he was planning for two people instead of just himself / he apologised a lot for it

”y/n i'm sorry, if i had been paying attention i would've booked it for later in the day tomorrow.” ”george, baby it's fine. i really don't mind. it's not like i'm going anywhere.” you flash him your ring with a smile to emphasise you point, to which he returns the smile before looking at his own ring.

he apologised again when the plane was about to take off

ted

i think ted takes you to japan for your honeymoon, at least for a week to try those capsule hotels that you and him been dying to try for months

i think he wants to go see all sorts of attractions in japan; theme parks, cat cafes, boardwalks, boat tours, and maybe take you to see an anime film (my brain is rotted from wanting to see an anime film in japan im sorry)

he booked a hotel because in the moment, it felt the easiest

even in japan he would get recognised, but not nearly as often as he did in the states and he would kindly turn down any fan who wanted a picture because he was busy on his honeymoon

lots of small kisses; at the end of a boardwalk, right before you sit down at restaurants, when you get back to the hotel room, when he brings you coffee, tea, or water in the morning, just outside the restaurant when you're leaving, when you two depart in a mall for a set time of 20 minutes

i think he likes seeing the trending tags on twitter surrounding your wedding

”what'ya smiling at, like an idiot baby?” you ask him, drying your hair with a towel from your recent shower, as you walk around from where your suitcase was to where he was stood in the mini kitchen. ”'the nivisons,' we're trending honey, that's all. i think it's sweet.” ”you know coming over here and giving me a kiss is even sweeter.” his phone is on the counter and he's encasing himself around you so fast.

he definitely texted his married friends for ideas when he started to run out / also before you left he logged into your pinterest on your computer and looked for anything he could use as an idea

you guys start binge-watching a new show while on your honeymoon and made inside jokes about it (yeah you became that couple)

holds your hand when you're walking around and getting into taxis and doing pretty much anything in public because he's scared he'll lose you in a crowd

he talks to you like he would a child. ”don't let go of my hand.” ”i won't ted, don't worry.” you shake your head at his antics once he turns away.

books a later in the afternoon flight out so that you can sleep in and he can pack for you and wake you up and get you out the door slowly, without a huge rush and stress

charlie

charlie takes you to 2 places, to start, you get 3 weeks in bali plus a week in new zealand (jrr tolkien/hobbit/lotr fans are gonna love this one)

in bali, he rents a whole house, 1 bedroom & 1 bathroom with a rate of $110 (usd) a night

while you're there, he takes you to sightsee places like gunung kawi temple, pura lempuyang luhur, ubud monkey forest, tukad cepung waterfall and holy spring (tirta empul)

of course wherever you go he insists on holding your hand, just to keep you close by

”baby you gotta let go of my hand i wanna take pictures.” your husband huffs a small, ”fine.” he releases your hand, but his hands find perch on your waist while you take pictures of the water, or the shops, or the wildlife, whatever.

definitely asks if he can use some of the pictures you took for his instagram story (it's the most he's ever used his insta story) and you tell him yes but only if you get to pick them / also on the same note, if either of you snap anyone during your honeymoon or just take selfies in general, they're always of you two kissing or giving each other cheek kisses in the house or at a restaurant or at a location you're visiting

he spends a lot of time just looking at your ring and how the ring on your finger looks against his fingers and vice versa with his ring against your fingers

”charlie?” he looks up from your intertwined hands in surprise. ”hm, what?” ”whatcha thinkin' about?” ”mmm, nothin', just admiring you.” he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, making you smile and a small tint to cover your cheeks.

in new zealand it's a hotel but it's a hobbit hole hotel, complete with tours of everything new zealand could offer about the tolkien's lord of the rings/hobbit universe

more eating out here than in bali despite how much more expensive it is

(if you're not a huge tolkien fan:) lots of thank yous from him for putting up with the trip so he could enjoy it // (if you are a huge tolkien fan:) a ton of excitement for both of you during the entire trip, and lots of talking about your own theories as you learn more about the fictional world

also vlogging the new zealand trip with charlie >>>> / and cataloging the film in the airport just before your flight for you to edit when you get home

schlatt

canada. idc, canada, that's where you're going. or iceland. somewhere cold.

i'm kidding, he told you that as a prank and then took you to australia (i apologise if you can't stand the animals there but this is schlatt we're talking about c'mon)

hotel over a b&b because even he, being the big guy that he is, was a little worried about finding a massive spider in the bed

probably quite a bit of alcohol that first night as a married couple

”y'so- god sweets y'so pretty.” schlatt twirled you around with one hand, beer bottle in the other. you giggled, the alcohol affecting your words and actions. you kept one hand tangled with his while the other held a grip on your bottle of beer. ”j..y'so handsome, you know that?” he blushed, and it must've been the alcohol because your boyfriend– husband now, never got flustered over something as small as that.

there's one night where you two go out dancing and when he sees all the prying eyes of the men and women around you, he makes sure to emphasise your ringed hands, keeping one of his hands planted firmly on your side

somehow you ended up going to see some aniaml fight with schlatt and when it got a little.. gory, you'd cover your eyes with your hands and tuck your head into his shoulder or his chest

”you alright baby?” he asked, flicking his eyes between you and the fight, arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer. ”i guess. jus'wanna leave though.” you whispered up into his ear and he nodded, waiting another minute before walking out with you tucked into his side, repeatedly asking you if you're really okay.

schlatt who takes you out to dinner every other night, with the rest of the nights being used to talk to both his and your friends and watch films together

also schlatt who believes in taking turns making lunch; whether it be sandwiches (it usually is), or pasta, a frozen pizza, etc, you take turns, after all you're married now, everything is 50/50

you probably both get sick at the end of the trip from something you ate and at first you were really worried, but he got better after a day and you two days after that

i also one hundred percent believe schlatt wanted to get home as soon as possible and picked an earlier in the morning flight / him plucking you from the bed three hours before your flight so you could shower and get ready, finish repacking, etc

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

[doubleddenden]

The topic of Palworld is pretty charged, but often times I see people be shamed for liking it because the CEO tweeted stuff about NFTs and the company using AI art in a separate game. Acting as if that's the most damning thing ever for a gaming company in an industry filled with similar people.

Make no mistake, I dislike both AI art and nfts, but do you realize how many gaming companies have involvement with that?

To begin with, Pokémon used AI art in a promotional piece for Pokémon Go in September, and nobody gave a shit because uwu Pikachu. The Pokémon Company also put a job listing some months back seeking an expert in NFTs. That's not quite damning evidence, but if I were a betting man, no "NFT expert" will willingly say "yeah nfts suck are bad for the environment, man, I'll take my paycheck and fuck off now." There's also a strong argument to be made that Pokémon has stolen ideas from fakemon artists (Finizen and Palafin, Scovillain, Dipplin, etc) and other franchises (kaiju movies, Dragon Quest, Megaman, final fantasy, western cartoons and food mascots, etc), a dubious legal statement that claims they own all fan art from the remixes and fakemon made on youtube to the pikachu your kid drew at breakfast; they have yet to apologize for the state of Scarlet and Violet while charging full price to millions of paying customers for a clearly unfinished and barely functioning game (which i did enjoy, but you can't tell me it was finished baking when it struggles not to shit itself just to run), and a bunch of other things people shit on Palworld for, but A. It's Pokémon so people don't care and think it's fine, and B. That's not the point of this post.

You know who else does NFTs and AI art? (Yes I heard Muscle Man from Regular Show in my head just now, too, moving along)

Square Enix sold several of their IPs for NFTs and claims to have used AI art "a minimum amount" in Foam Stars, yet I see nobody yelling for boycotts of Final Fantasy 14, 16, Kingdom Hearts, Dragon Quest, Life is Strange, etc etc etc.

Sony has invested in both, they want to implement AI into gaming, and has a patent for nfts to be used in games and consoles, yet there's no movement to throw out your playstations.

Bandai Namco- you know, that company with a hand in pretty much most anime games on the market and popular games such as the Dark Souls games? They have a game called RYU that's essentially a virtual pet game that uses the blockchain, and its AI driven, among other projects. Yet there's no outcry to stop playing the many, MANY games they brand with. This also includes quite a few Nintendo games (btw they just partnered together to form a special studio quite recently) like Smash Wii U/3ds and New Pokémon Snap. Nobody gives a shit though.

Android, Microsoft, Google, Apple- I don't even need to explain those, they have whole teams dedicated to both. Even popular VPN companies accept crypto.

I'm just saying an awful lot of you guys that scream and shit bloody murder about Palworld's company being involved with that shit are either the biggest "It's okay when my favs do it" type of hypocrites, or you're sorely ignorant to just how evil and greedy most corporations are. You'll be hard pressed to find a game company with popular AND fun games that DOESN'T have some interest in either, let alone movie and show studios. That's the awful reality we live in.

You have 2 options

1. You basically stop doing anything involving most modern tech, including throwing out your pc and smart phone. You could probably live a comfortable life with tech circa 2010, but you have to be aware that any thing you buy may go towards a cause you don't like.

2. You accept that people can enjoy a product while not necessarily agreeing with the CEO of said product. Most CEOs tend to be jackasses anyway, that's kind of the shared trait they all have. You can also discourage companies from using them while understanding it is everywhere.

Palworld at the end of the day is just a toy, that's it. From the looks of it, it's not even actually hurting anyone, and it seems like the company at least treats their employees pretty decently- at least according to a few things I've seen here and there that seems rather progressive for a Japanese studio (with room for doubt obviously, it's a company after all and as we've established, they're all evil). At the least its not like when people supported Hogwarts Legacy and directly put money into JKR's wallet so she can openly hurt more Trans women. In fact, the only people seemingly hurt in all of this Palworld drama are obsessed Pokémon stans that can't accept a parody, or the Pokémon Company themselves, who rightly deserve some punching up tbh.

You can just say you dislike the game, that's fine, I totally get that. Even though I personally think The Pokémon Company deserves a few nut shots after the way they've treated fans these last few years with the state of their games (and you know, stealing ideas from fans without credit), I can see why someone would be turned away from a parody that's literally meant to be Pokémon with guns. I can totally understand all of that, personally I'd prefer if the game was MORE like Pokémon with turn based combat.

But if you're going to defend Pokémon because you think its perfectly innocent because of Wooloo or something like that, just be sure you're aware you're defending the World's Richest Franchise and their own attempts at AI and NFTs while calling out an indie company (a real one thats learning as they go, not the fake "We're totally indie" franchise that hasn't been indie since gen 3) for having a ceo that also seems interested in the same stuff. And remember, you don't become number 1 without hurting people somehow (we could dig up receipts about certain partners Pokémon has teamed up with, such as Tencent with Unite, but I'd rather not right now.)

Just saying. I don't think you're an irredeemable person for still liking Pikachu, cuz I do too believe it or not. I've been a life long fan and still have fun with the games despite the clear scummy business practices towards their paying customers. Just maybe extend that courtesy to the millions of players just trying to have fun in this awful, putrid, shithole planet that just keeps getting worse and worse with each passing day.

Plus... you know, think about it. Do you think Pokémon would ever get around to making a gunless Palworld? Probably not. Do you think Palworld would exist if The Pokémon Company and Nintendo were the slightest bit chill about Pokémon fan projects like SEGA is with Sonic? Also probably not. From what I've read, the devs just wanted to make a fun game that happens to mostly be ARK with Pokémon adjacent monsters. That's not really a bad thing, all things considered, and it seems like the worst they've done is reference official Pokémon when making their own models.

Palworld being successful is actually beneficial to Pokémon fans, as well. It'll never really truly compete, but it has outsold Legends Arceus in terms of units sold (not as much financially because Palworld was only $30 plus a sale recently, but still impressive), and it is enough that Game Freak is aware of its existence. Let Palworld light a fire under their ass, and maybe GF will actually finish their next game before releasing it for full price (and no, we're not bringing up the tired imaginary ball and chain game devs, game freak owns 1/3rd lf the franchise and can easily take methods to get more dev time, they just haven't because money). Just saying, at least the Paldevs were honest enough to sell it in early access for half the price.

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (11/22)

Chapter summary: You and Yelena confront an important aspect in your relationship; Wanda catches someone's attention

Chapter word count: 6.2K | Warnings: None | Ship: Wanda x Reader, Yelena x Reader

Author's note: Couldn't sleep and I wanted to get this chapter out of the way. P.S. Can you guess who happens to be Wanda's new customer?

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next chapter: Twelve

Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta | @secretbackrooms | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r | @kyaraderuwez | @justyourwritter69 | @stanolsevans | @aliherreraaa | @diaryoflife

-

Eleven

Bending down a little, Wanda lets Sparky jump from her arms and onto the floor. Her apartment felt a little less like home without him, except for that night you brought her home safely and tucked her in bed. And despite her initial embarrassment, a smile forms on her lips as she recalls how you took care of her, ensuring she emptied her glass of water. 

Wanda could almost pretend it was just like old times, those moments when you would take care of her whenever she fell sick.  They were oddly some of her fondest memories even though they were accompanied by a feeling of helplessness.

Sparky sniffs at her leg, his wet nose touching her calf, making Wanda giggle. “You’re feeling better, bud?” she coos at him, scratching behind his ears and making him wag his tail even harder. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

As she reaches for a bag of dog food from the kitchen cabinet, a faint ringing startles her. She turns her attention to the source of the sound where she finds her laptop perched nearby. 

It’s an incoming video call request from none other than Pietro. Wanda's eyes instinctively flicker to the wall clock in her living room, realizing that she's five minutes late for their scheduled FaceTime session. Aside from the obvious reason that he’s scared she would descend into another episode of drug and alcohol abuse, they had made it a point to check in more frequently, not just relying on holiday reunions or convenience. If there was one good thing to come out of the tragedies of her life for the past year, it’s that it brought them closer together. This deeper connection with her brother also served as a motivating factor to be consistent with her sessions with Calliope.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda hurriedly walks over to her laptop and presses the accept button. It takes less than two seconds for the call to come through. 

Pietro's voice fills the room as he exclaims, "There's my less attractive twin," accompanied by a mischievous grin on the screen. Wanda can't help but scowl at his comment, but it quickly melts into a smile as she playfully sticks her tongue out and teases, "Aren't you a bit too old for frosted tips?" 

She notices how different he looks from the last time she saw him, appearing more adjusted to his new life in LA.

"Are you telling me I look old?" he retorts, feigning a pout while ruffling his spiky hair.

Wanda lets out a chuckle. "I literally just did. God, you’re stupid."

"Well, someone has to be the hot twin," Pietro smirks. "We can't both be hot and smart, sis."

"Sure, whatever," Wanda rolls her eyes and rests her chin on her palm. As much as she enjoys talking to him, she can't help but feel anxious about how he'll react when he finds out she has seen you again. Wanda had made a promise to Pietro to never see you again, which she reluctantly agreed to or else he never would have boarded his flight together with his wife.

“Alright, give me your status report for the week.”

Wanda gets right to it before hesitation can creep in. "I saw Y/N last night," she says, her voice strained as she swallows down the lump in her throat. "And again this morning."

Pietro's smile visibly falters, dissipating into a grimace as Wanda's words sink in. After a brief pause, he leans back in his chair, distancing himself slightly, and lets out a heavy sigh. "Why am I not surprised to hear that?" he mutters.

Wanda lowers her gaze, unable to meet his eyes as she recounts how Sparky ended up confined at an animal clinic and wanted to let you know.

"I know, Piet, I’m sorry" she says after she’s done speaking and Pietro hasn’t uttered a single word, his face not betraying any hint of emotion. "But if I were in her position, I’d want to know. Sparky is family.”

It’s another tension-filled silence before he speaks again.

"You really don't have to apologize to me for anything, you know?" he says in an unexpectedly gentle manner which helps Wanda relax a little. "It's not your responsibility to meet my expectations or avoid disappointing me–or anyone for that matter. But please, be completely honest with me. Was it just about Sparky?"

“It was,” Wanda says truthfully. “But I think it goes without saying that I missed her. Though if not for Sparky, we would be having an entirely different conversation right now.”

Pietro doesn't comment on that. He understands that your return to Wanda's life was going to happen sooner or later, whether it's because of the dog or some other reason. You and Wanda are like magnets, and he had witnessed it even back in college when Wanda first mentioned your name to him. There was an undeniable look in her eyes that told him he had already lost her sister to you.

“Have you told her what happened to you?”

Wanda shakes her head.

“How is she?” Pietro asks, wanting to know if you're treating Wanda fairly, hoping that you're at least maintaining a civil relationship with her.

“She actually saved me last night,” Wanda says. “I…I had a setback.”

Pietro raises an eyebrow, his expression turning skeptical. "Setback? As in…?”

Wanda takes a deep breath, nervously wringing her fingers in her lap, hidden from Pietro's view. "I had too much to drink. That's how Y/N found me." She then mentions meeting Yelena, how by the looks of it you were more than friends with her, and how that sort of flipped a switch inside of her before she could stop it.

"Does Dr. Williams know?" Pietro asks, recognizing his own biases in the situation. He had been practicing self-restraint ever since he started his own sessions with Calliope. Their weekly video calls have become less frequent, occurring only twice a month now, as his job and Shannon's pregnancy have demanded more of his time and attention. 

Wanda nods slightly to confirm, but she expresses her reluctance to share the specifics of that session with Pietro. Thankfully, he doesn’t press for more details.

“I still don’t think it’s safe for you to be around her. But I trust you,” Pietro mutters, leaning forward to imitate eye contact as if they were speaking face to face. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry to hear she’s moved on.”

A wistful smile graces Wanda's lips. She is grateful that the pixels that make up her face on the video call manage to hide the wetness that has gathered around her eyes. It's something she still needs to work through with Calliope. Deep down, she wants to genuinely be happy for you, without the lingering jealousy and possessiveness she still harbors. Finding happiness in your happiness, even if she isn't the cause of it, is the only way she can begin to perceive herself in a decent light. 

“How’s Shannon?” Wanda asks after she surmises that the topic of you has come to an end.

"What's up, my husband's less hot twin?" Shannon says, popping her head into view and giving Wanda a quick wave before disappearing from the screen as quickly as she appeared.

Wanda jumps back in her seat, looking horrified. “Has she been listening the whole time?” 

Pietro starts laughing. “Yep.”

“She’s evil!” Wanda exclaims as her own laughter starts to bubble up within her. 

“She says you look good,” he says.

“She did not just compliment me,” Wanda playfully gasps. 

“I know,” Pietro laughs harder, his shoulders shaking and his eyes crinkling at its corners. “Pregnancy has done wonders to her.”

“I’m happy for you guys. How far along is she again?”

“Seventeen weeks,” he answers with surprising accuracy. 

“Oh! So you’ll be able to tell sex of the baby?” 

“We’re going to find out in a week or two,” he says.

“I hope it’s a girl.” Wanda says, crossing her fingers.

As their laughter gradually subsides and their faces return to a state of tranquil contentment, Pietro asks, “Have you ever thought of having children? I mean, not necessarily with Y/N. Just in general.”

She has, multiple times. She tried to conceive with you for a while. But it’s too complicated to explain everything to him at the moment. Instead, she shifts her focus to the notion of wanting children and realizes that it's something she desired only after falling in love with you.

"I didn't start wanting until Y/N came along,” Wanda starts. “You knew how much I hated the idea of having kids—not because I didn't like them, but because I've always felt like I had nothing to offer. How do you give away something you never received, you know?"

Piet nods in understanding, his gaze filled with empathy as he recalls their tumultuous childhood. "Yeah, I—we didn't exactly have the best childhood," he admits, his voice carrying a hint of regret. "And I think it was harder on you because I had football and my scholarship to focus on. It was my escape, my distraction from the chaos. But for you, it was different."

"I always felt this void, this emptiness inside," Wanda confesses, her words quivering with raw emotion. "Growing up in a fractured family, it felt like there was something missing, something I couldn't quite put into words. And that made me doubt my ability to be a parent.

"But being with her," Wanda continues, her voice growing steadier at the thought of you, "It changed something within me. It's made me realize that I have the capacity to love, to nurture, and to provide the kind of stability I never had. It's scary, but it's also beautiful. And for a while, we did try," Wanda pauses, unable to hold back any longer. She hadn't even mentioned this to Calliope, so she is surprised to find it easy to reveal this to the brother she used to never talk to.

“But I couldn’t get pregnant. And she was having the best year in her career, so I couldn’t bring myself to ask her if she–if she wanted to carry,” Wanda continues, her gaze distant as she recalls the memories as vividly as if they occurred yesterday. She remembers how you provided unwavering support, particularly on the financial front when she was on a part-time payroll.

After two years of unsuccessful attempts, Wanda made the difficult decision to take a break from trying to conceive, a choice that you fully supported. But she was gutted–feeling like she somehow failed you as a wife.

“If it didn’t happen with her, maybe it’s not meant to be,” she concludes with a sad smile. “I doubt I’d be a good mother anyway.”

“Don’t say that. You’d be a great mom.” Pietro tells her but it does little to bring her comfort.

Wanda thinks that could only happen if she has you to learn from. It would have been the best time raising children with you; seeing them grow up and have families of their own while you both looked on from the porch of your retirement home, worn by the passage of time, yet filled with the joy of a life well-lived.

What-ifs. Missed opportunities. Wanda has discovered that when it comes to grief, it's often more painful to mourn the things that could never be.

***

The spot beside your bed is empty when you wake up the following morning after the gala. 

It’s not just empty; there’s no sign that a person has slept in it at all. Your mind drifts to the conversation you had with Kate, and then Yelena's bewildered and hurt expression as you departed the event without witnessing her moment on stage and receiving her well-deserved award. Regret courses through you as you realize the significance of that moment to Yelena and how you let her down by leaving without an explanation. In hindsight, the “biggest asshole of the night” award unanimously goes to you.

With a groan, you reach for your phone on the nightstand, hoping to find some messages from Yelena. Nothing. No attempted calls either. That’s… new. Talking things through is something you’ve always practiced with Wanda. You’re not used to this unerring silence after what could arguably be called a fight; your first one since picking up where you both left off more than twelve years ago. Putting on a pair of shorts, you walk out the bedroom and into the living room, hoping to find Yelena there. Everything looks exactly as you left it, meaning Yelena probably didn’t even go home after the gala.

Somehow, that renews your irritation, now mingled with a growing concern about your girlfriend’s whereabouts and why she couldn’t bother to let you know if she was at least somewhere safe.

Where are you? You send Yelena a text and then place your phone facedown on the kitchen counter. 

Grabbing a box of cereal from the shelf and milk from the fridge, you start preparing your breakfast. As you dig your spoon into the bowl of cereal, you find your eyes involuntarily glancing towards your phone, anticipating a notification to appear any moment.

In the next few minutes, however, it remains motionless and silent on the granite surface. Losing your patience, you pick it up and dial Yelena’s number. 

It rings and rings and rings, with each tone feeling more empty and distant than the last, until finally, a dead tone greets your efforts to reach her. Feeling a spike of pettiness, you decide to let go of your attempts to reach Yelena and instead, your fingers scroll through your contacts to a name that has been lingering in the back of your mind more times than you care to admit.

Before you’re aware of what you’re doing, you’ve sent your ex-wife a simple good morning text.

Wanda’s reply comes less than a minute later.

Good morning :) - W

You think of something to say, realizing that you hadn't planned that far ahead when you sent that text. You stand there in the middle of your kitchen, blinking at Wanda’s text for a long time when you suddenly remember what you really wanted to ask from her.

How’s Sparky doing?

He's doing alright. He's not particularly fond of the diet I've recently put him on, but the vet strongly advised me to stick to it and not feed him anything else. - W

You can envision Wanda struggling to feed Sparky, as it's no easy task due to his stubborn nature, much like his owner.

What diet is he on? I was going to bring him some toys and a new bed today, so maybe I can pick up groceries for him as well. 

Wanda’s reply to that never comes, and you continue to fume over Yelena’s lack of response.

***

It turns out, the demand of your work does have its advantages.

It means there’s little to no room for you to overthink what Yelena’s silence means. And if you can’t think about it, you can pretend that everything’s under control, like maybe she’s got caught in another assignment and hasn’t gotten any chance to text you back. However, as lunchtime approaches and you check your phone, you notice that she has seen your message but left it on read. 

Almost half a day and still no word from her. Instead of feeling agitated, you begin to worry. New York isn’t a particularly safe city. You’ve heard of people walking its streets in broad daylight and being attacked out of nowhere. You really shouldn’t have left her last night. If something had happened to her–

"Ms. Y/L/N?" Your secretary's voice comes through the door with a soft knock. “Ms. Natasha Romanov is here to see you.”

The mention of your best friend's name brightens your mood instantly. "Please, let her in. Thank you." With that, you close your laptop and make your way towards the couch, preparing for Natasha's arrival. Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Perhaps Natasha can provide you with insights into the complex workings of her sister’s mind.

"Your secretary informed me that you rarely leave the building. So, I brought lunch," Natasha announces with a casual air as she enters your office. She's dressed in simple civilian clothing, a sign that she'll be off-duty for a while.

“Hey,” you stand up to greet her and you kiss each other on the cheek. “Thank you for this. I’m starving,” you say, taking the paper bags from her hands and spreading out its contents on the table in front of the couch. 

"Nice office," Natasha comments, her hands sliding into her pockets as she takes a tour of your workspace. “But it could be bigger.” she jokes. 

"That's what she said," you grin, the inside joke slipping out of your mouth without a second thought.

Natasha snorts, finding it amusing that you've regained some of your signature humor since she last saw you. She had been away for months on a mission that was initially intended to be just a few weeks long, and the transformation in you during that time has been surprisingly profound. Initially, she worried if you were ready to enter a relationship with her sister, having witnessed the impact of your divorce on your emotional stability. But seeing how genuinely happy Yelena is with you, she wonders if she had been mistaken in thinking that your reconnection was ill-timed.

She joins you on the couch, settling down beside you as you take a bite of your shawarma. The comfortable silence between you speaks volumes of the strong bond you share, but then the thought of not hearing from Yelena since you left the gala last night comes to mind.

"Have you heard from Yelena this morning?" you ask, a tinge of worry seeping into your voice as your appetite wanes.

"Yeah, she actually messaged me earlier," Natasha replies, her voice slightly muffled as she chews her food. "She needed some information for the column she's working on. Why do you ask?"

You sigh at the confirmation that she’s blatantly ignoring you. At the same time, you’re relieved to know that she’s alright.

"She didn't come home last night. She wouldn't answer my texts or take my calls either," you explain, unable to hide the amount of frustration in your voice.

"Oh. Trouble in paradise?"

"Something like that," you reply, not wanting to delve into the details just yet.

Natasha licks the sauce from her lips. "Mind if I ask what happened?"

You hesitate for a moment, before saying, "I'm not sure I feel comfortable talking about my relationship problems to my girlfriend's sister."

Natasha’s smile is toothy yet assuring. "I understand, but sometimes an outsider's perspective can be helpful. Plus, I know Yelena better than anyone. I might be able to offer some advice."

Sighing, you give in, if only to learn more about this side of Yelena you’re dealing with. 

“She used to be more…confrontational. I’m not used to her shutting me out this long. Frankly, it’s driving me crazy.” you say. 

“What did you do?” Natasha asks.

You chuckle softly. "Why do you assume it's something I did?"

“My sister can be a pain in the ass, but you’re right about her being confrontational. So if she’s giving you the silent treatment, you must have done something to really hurt her feelings.” Natasha says. Though she’s talking about you hurting her sister’s feelings, she maintains a neutral stance. You’re honestly curious how she manages that. 

"I found out something by accident, and I was upset that she kept it from me, so I left her event last night before she could receive her award," you reveal at last.

Natasha leans back on the couch, her shawarma wrap in hand, and points it at you accusingly with a smirk. "You screwed up."

"But I didn't even tell you what I found out–"

"You screwed up big time. Fix it. You don't want to lose her because you acted like a jerk."

Her words hit you with a dose of reality, and you realize she's right. “Got any ideas?” you ask.

"She acts all tough, but seriously, she's a bouquet-of-red-roses kind of girl,” Natasha quips, and then sort of shudders as her face turns sour. “It feels weird giving relationship advice to my sister’s girlfriend.”

“Yup,” you agree, scrunching your nose. “Let’s forget this ever happened. But thanks for the tip.”

***

As the first rays of sunlight gently filter through the windows, Wanda unlocks the door to her cozy coffee shop. Inside, the space is bathed in a warm, golden glow. Wanda moves with practiced grace, setting up the tables and arranging the chairs, each movement purposeful and efficient. 

The scent of freshly ground coffee beans fills the air as Wanda expertly operates the espresso machine. Rich, earthy notes intertwine with hints of chocolate and caramel, infusing the space with a comforting allure. She carefully measures the coffee grounds, tamping them down with precision, allowing the anticipation of the perfect cup to build.

And all of these she does with a silly grin on her face. While she acknowledges the need to establish boundaries(hence, leaving your last message on read), especially now that you’re spoken for, it doesn’t mean she couldn’t privately relish just being connected to you and basically just having your name in her inbox.

The soft creak of the entrance door breaks the tranquil silence as Peter enters the coffee shop, backpack slung over his shoulders.

“Good morning, Ms. Maximoff.”

“Hey, Peter. I told you to just call me Wanda.” she says with a soft smile. Peter grins at her sheepishly as he heads straight to the backroom. Briefly depositing his things inside, he sets about his tasks diligently. It’s a Monday, which means she’ll only have Peter to help around the cafe. Agatha has been increasing her shifts at the cafe, to a point where Wanda has decided that free coffee and food won’t suffice anymore. As a result, she has considered the prospect of forming a partnership with Agatha when the time comes to expand her business later on. 

As Wanda finishes arranging the register and secures the change inside, the jingle of the entrance bell announces the arrival of the first customer for the day. She swiftly dons her apron and offers a warm smile.

"Welcome to Second Chances!" Wanda greets, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm.The customer is an attractive dark woman in her 30s, and she’s looking at Wanda with a curiosity that goes beyond coffee and cake–to which Wanda is completely oblivious to.

"Hi, uh..." she glances at Wanda's nametag. "Wanda. What do you recommend?" she asks, her focus solely on maintaining eye contact with Wanda rather than the menu.

"That depends," Wanda responds, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she considers a range of options. She starts with your favorite, the Spanish Latte.

“I’m not really into sweet stuff,” The customer comments, her gaze still locked with Wanda's.

Undeterred, Wanda quickly adapts her recommendation. “Our vanilla latte isn’t the overly sweet kind. It's a balanced blend of creamy milk and subtle vanilla extract. It pairs perfectly with our arabica beans. The combination creates a smooth and rich taste that might surprise you.”

The customer straightens her jacket, wearing a roguish smirk that looks ridiculously attractive on her. "How about you surprise me?"

Wanda smiles back. "Certainly. Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable. Your drink will be prepared and served to you shortly."

The customer finds a cozy spot in the corner of the café, settling into the inviting atmosphere. Wanda gets to work, and while she moves about the open kitchen, a pair of dark brown eyes watch her every movement. Then, from the corner of those eyes, catches sight of Peter nearby, diligently mopping the floor, and beckons for his attention.

“Hey, kid, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, ma'am?”

"Is your colleague over there single?" she inquires, discreetly gesturing towards Wanda.

Peter scratches his head, looking torn for a second, before replying, “Sorry, but it would be inappropriate of me to reveal personal details about my boss.”

"Boss?" she echoes, seemingly more entranced. 

Peter nods. “Yes, Ms. Maximoff owns this place.”

Wanda Maximoff.

Her surprise lingers for a moment before she nods. Intrigued by the revelation that Wanda is the owner of the café, she leans back in her seat, her eyes fixated on the gorgeous woman deftly crafting her mysterious drink. The curiosity in her expression intensifies, and it's clear that there's more to her interest than just the beverage itself.

“Anything else I can help you with?” Peter asks as he drags the mop over the last spot on the floor.

“No, thank you,” she replies as she continues to look past him. “I’ve got everything I need.”

***

The chicken has only been roasting in the oven for a few minutes when Yelena finally arrives home. Throughout the day, she had sent you only one text, informing you of her expected delay. Despite this, you don't mind, as you had planned to prepare a special dinner. A mere bouquet of two dozen roses wouldn't suffice to successfully woo your girlfriend, and you wanted to go the extra mile.

"Smells delicious," Yelena comments as she hangs her coat on the rack and slips off her boots. She’s wearing just about the same look on her face before last night’s argument, relieving some of the tension you’ve been carrying all evening. It brings you some relief to see that she's taken the initiative to speak to you first now that you're in the same room again.

"It's just a simple dish I make once in a while," you say, attempting to downplay its significance. The truth is, it's the only recipe you know, and it feels a bit awkward to admit that you learned it from Wanda. However, the origins of the recipe don't really matter to you. You'd go to great lengths and use all your resources just to make up for what happened at the gala.

As Yelena makes her way towards the kitchen, her eyes catch sight of the bouquet of roses positioned on the table, right where she usually sits. 

“What’s this?” she asks, picking it up and inspecting it with an odd expression that doesn’t bode well for you.

“Flowers?” you reply, your voice slightly shaky. “I–I heard you’re pretty fond of them so I bought you some–two dozens actually. I have a vase here in case you want–”

"No, I mean, why? Why are you buying me flowers?" Yelena questions, her tone filled with confusion and perhaps a hint of suspicion.

A smile of disbelief tugs at the corners of your lips, not quite making sense of why you have to explain something so obvious. However, underneath that smile, a wave of irritation crashes over you, fueled by a mounting list of grievances: the prolonged silent treatment, keeping her friends with benefits history with Kate from you, her not coming home last night, and (you just decided to throw in) her habit of neglecting to place her clothes in the hamper, among other things. 

Still, you manage to maintain your composure and respond calmly with, “Isn't that what you're supposed to do when you upset your girlfriend?"

Yelena lets out a hoarse laugh that lacks any trace of warmth or affection, and it strikes a nerve within you, igniting a deep sense of anger and frustration. The emotions surge through you, threatening to consume the remaining shreds of patience you have left.

"Upset? You think you’ve upset me?" Yelena's voice drips with sarcasm.

You set your jaw and nod.

"Y/N, you didn't just upset me. You fucking hurt me," Yelena's voice trembles with raw emotion. "That night was so important to me, and you checked out completely."

Your heart sinks at her words. You have never really seen her cry because of you. It’s not a pretty sight.

"That's why I'm trying to apologize. I got you these," you gesture towards the roses and the uncut vegetables on the counter, "And I cooked for you because I know I did a terrible thing. I tried reaching out to you as soon as I woke up this morning, but you refused to talk to me. And even now, I don't know how to fix this. So, please, tell me what to do."

“I don’t know,” Yelena says, her voice dropping to a whisper. “How about you go back in time and not leave me? Did you know that half of my speech was about you? And I had to remove that part because it was pointless to thank someone who wasn’t there.”

The sight of her tears glistening in her eyes cuts you deeply. It dawns on you just how much you hurt her. How selfish you were to think that your actions were justified by the betrayal you felt after your conversation with Kate. 

And things wouldn’t get better unless Yelena knows why you left in the first place. Carefully choosing your words, you begin to explain, “Kate insinuated that you two had an arrangement that wasn’t entirely just friendly.” 

It’s Yelena’s turn to be backed into a corner. “She told you?” 

“By accident,” you clarify. “She, uh, recognized the signs that we weren’t intimate with each other, and I… it wasn’t hard to put two and two together after that.”

A small part of you is still hoping that Yelena would deny it. The anticipation of her response tightens the knots in your stomach, and yet there’s nothing you can do but brace yourself for it.

After a moment of silence, Yelena lets out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I… yes. We were sleeping together at one point in our relationship but it never meant anything to me. I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

It’s one thing to hear it from Kate, but another to have your partner validate it out loud. And while jealousy brews within you almost instantly, it fuels your sense of insecurity. Why does it feel like secrets are always being kept, and why are you the last to know?

You turn towards the sink to run your hands under the water, your back on Yelena as you ask, "Do you remember the night I went to your place and Kate answered the door for me?"

"What does that have to do with..." Yelena starts to say.

“Yelena.” you interrupt softly, urging her to just answer the question.

“I do,” she confirms.

“Kate told me she had feelings for you that night,” you say, toweling your hands dry and observing Yelena as she looks away. “When you were sleeping together, were you already aware that she has feelings for you?”

“No,” Yelena says. “She only confessed once I ended it.”

“When was that?”

Yelena, though somewhat misplaced in the context of things, smiles at the memory. It was the day that made it painfully clear to her that she wasn't over you yet. Seeing you after all those years, married to someone else, was a hard pill to swallow. But she couldn’t deny how strongly she still felt for you. 

“When I ran into you in Soho, things didn't feel quite the same afterward.” she says. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"Because it didn't mean anything," Yelena insists at first, but as she meets your pained gaze, it  hits her like a ton of bricks. She won a chance with you because someone lied to you and betrayed your trust. And for her to do something similar–

“I was afraid of what you might think of me,” she says slowly. “Kate and I were best friends, we connected emotionally outside of sex. But I didn't want you to think that I was taking advantage of her or using her.” 

"Why did you assume I would think that?"

“She’s wealthy. I was literally leeching off on that when I agreed to move into her apartment, wasn’t I?”

“Yelena–”

“It’s true. And I was too selfish to see it. More importantly, I didn’t tell you about Kate because I didn't want you to doubt my intentions or question my feelings for you. When you have me, you have all of me.”

You both fall into a long, tension-filled silence. You find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, trying to process Yelena's admission, while she anxiously gnaws at her lip, her eyes filled with worry.

"I think I want to know these things, even if they are hard to hear," you say, sounding defeated.  Just an hour ago, you had convinced yourself not to confront Yelena about Kate, believing that it was all in the past and that the feelings involved were one-sided. But now, in this moment, you realize that what truly bothers you isn't the fact that they had a sexual relationship; it's the fact that Yelena didn't feel the need to be open and honest with you, especially when you had been honest with her about your own experiences with Wanda. The lack of transparency and trust is what stings the most.

"I understand that it meant nothing to you, and I believe you," you say, speaking the words more to yourself than Yelena. "But I'm tired of people lying and keeping secrets from me. Am I really that difficult to be honest with?"

Yelena’s lips twist slightly, as her eyes water at the way you’re doubting what you deserve.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, taking hesitant steps towards you. You allow Yelena to approach, and she wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight embrace. "It's not about you. It's me. I was just scared–scared to ruin what we have. I've wanted you for so long, and I didn't take a moment to consider if my actions were truly in your best interest–”

“Do you trust me?” you ask suddenly, your voice muffled by her shirt.

You should've thought about it beforehand, but you both counted on your shared past, the years of knowing each other from childhood, assuming trust would just come so seamlessly.

“I want to,” Yelena says after a while. “I think I do, but not as much as before. I think I’m just realizing now how different you are from the Y/N I knew when I was a teenager.”

With a deep sigh, you hold Yelena closer, seeking comfort in her scent.  "I understand what you mean," you say.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Kate liked me?” Yelena asks. 

Pulling away to look at Yelena, you tenderly sweep her hair away from her eyes. "First of all, I don't think she likes you," you assert, your lips brushing against Yelena's temple in a tender gesture. "I think she's in love with you."

"That's not what she told me," Yelena counters.

“She doesn’t even have to say anything. I can feel it. I see the way she looks at you, the way her gaze lingers.”

“I guess I was too ignorant, or perhaps I didn’t want to see it,” Yelena concedes to the truth. Despite being fully aware of Kate’s true feelings towards her, she chose to remain in her company, desiring their friendship even if it meant causing Kate pain; Kate, who quietly stood in the sidelines as she watched Yelena fall in love with you for the second time around. 

“Should I… should I stop talking to Kate?” 

You shake your head. “I can’t tell you what to do, Yelena. But I do think you need to give her some space.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Do you see her often at work?”

“We’re on the same team and we share a mentor. So, yes.”

You think about Kate and how hard that must be for her. It’s only time and distance that can help, similar to how you presumed matters eventually settled with Wanda. 

Yelena watches you with concern as you grow quiet again.

“I shouldn’t have left,” you say, your hands coming up to her neck as you cradle it gently, feeling the tendrils of her hair at her nape. “You didn’t deserve that from me.”

“No, I didn’t. But I’m sorry too,” Yelena sighs, leaning into your touch. “I know that trust doesn’t come easy for you, not after what happened with–” 

“It doesn’t have to be.” you say.

“I know. From now on, I’m going to make a conscious effort to be more open,” Yelena promises, her eyes soft but resolute. “I keep forgetting you’re not the same person you were. Maybe because I fell so easily for this version of you.”

In that moment, you become aware of how deeply you care and feel for her. "I love you too," you whisper so softly that she almost misses them.

The declaration sparks something within Yelena, causing it to manifest in the corners of her eyes. And then, just as they lighten up, they darken–her want palpable in the abyss of her green eyes.

Tugging at the hem of your shirt and voice dripping with need, Yelena whispers, "Then show me.”

[maleyanderecafe]

A Cry for Help(Visual Novel)

Created by: ItsYaBoi

Genre: Horror

A Cry for Help is a nice game that’s created by the creator of See Thru: Need a Friend which is a pretty nice game that I got to play for the yandere game jam. It’s pretty short, but the yandere in this one is quite different from it’s previous successor (which is cool) and has a lot of fun things going on. This game is r18 though, so please keep that in mind. If you are curious, you can see more information at @stnaf-vn.

The story starts out with the player working at a call center. They immediately have to deal with a bad customer. Working overtime, the player gets a strange call from someone.

Upon accepting the call, the caller, Rook begs the player to help him find his package asking them to type in the number. When the player is unable to pull up the package, Rook panics more, believing that his life will be worthless if he can't find this package.

If the player comforts Rook, he will disconnect afterwards and the player sends out a welfare type of line just in case. Upon going back to their car, the player worries about Rook before meeting him face to face. Continuing to speak with him, the player starts to realizes that this person is Rook as he thanks the player for helping him. You can try to give your contact to him when he asks, which makes him extremely happy.

Rejecting giving him his number will leave him kind of awkward but he seems understanding about it, promising to come back another time.

Bolting to the car will cause Rook to try to chase after you, with Rook pressing his hand against the window and begging for more attention before the player drives away.

Generally rejecting him will lead to a creepy smile seen in the rearview window when the player drives away.

For a relatively short game, I think the way that it's able to put up a sort of eerie atmosphere is pretty good. From the frantic nature that Rook has when he can't find the package to the way he acts when you reassure him, it makes you curious to wonder what was inside it that was so important. It also does seem relatively realistic at some points considering that a lot of stalkers in real life tend to act similarly when they're on their last thread (so to speak) and that having that one person who is nice to them causes them to become obsessed. It is interesting to me that rejecting Rook's attempt to get the player's phone number doesn't seem to make him mad, only a bit awkwardly hesitant and it feels as if there's a bit of delusion with it as well, with him stating that you shouldn't give your phone number to people you don't know. The animations for Rook are pretty nice as well, with small movements to sell his nature.

Rook himself is a pretty well, pathetic yandere (which is my favorite because of course it is). Considering this one act of kindness gets him to find and talk to the player so quickly really is something that I didn't expect. He also seems a bit delusional as I've stated before and from what I can tell, it doesn't seem like he would really cause the player any harm (at least not intentionally), and just that he doesn't really know how to act around them. It does make me wonder what happens when the player does reject him instead of consoling him, considering the face that appears in the rearview window afterwards. However, considering this does seem to be a oneshot game, its probably not something we will find out.

In any case, A Cry for Help is once again another great game with a pretty cool yandere. Again, I think it's nice to be able to have different yandere types for your games and stories (I know it's hard for me to make different yandere types but that's because I'm generally biased for certain types) and the creator did a good job. If you haven't tried out the game, please do! It's pretty fun.

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

003

Genre : fluff, the ending's a bit angsty tho.

Summary : In which you're sick. And Miguel's soft.

Request/idea by: lassiraa (didn;t know if she wanted to be tagged oops)

Wordcount: 1.3k lol

Miguel O’hara Masterlist

Miguel glances at his phone yet again, admittedly a little worried. The cute cafe you work at had been busy today, filled to the brim with customers. When you had texted him earlier that you would be late for your movie night, he understood. In return, he had replied that he could eventually pick you up, asking at what time you would be done. You haven't responded though, probably too occupied with cleaning the place.

It's thankfully not too late just yet, but it's started raining dogs and cats since about an hour back. He just hopes you'll catch the bus to HQ.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait all too long, a sudden knock at his door sounding through his room.

His room is admittedly bigger than the other spiders' rooms who stay. His looking more like an apartment, the only thing missing is a livingroom and a diningroom. It's basically a small studio apartment.

It doesn't take him long to open the door. The first thing he notices when he does so is that you're completely drenched. 

He sighs as he lets you in.

" Why didn't you take the bus? " He asks, going straight to the point.

" Because I would have to wait more than thirty minutes. Walking was faster. Hello to you too by the way." You roll your eyes.

He doesn't miss the shivering of your body.

" Yeah, hey. You should've called me. " He scolds you, yet again.

" Yeah, yeah. I won't die from a little rain Miguel, relax." You tell him, before sniffing once you've taken your shoes off.

The two of you suddenly find yourself in a bit of an awkward stare. The one where his thoughts are running through his head and you're really trying to figure it out without communicating.

' Yeah. she's going to be sick tomorrow.'

'Bet he's thinking about throwing some pizzas in'

" Are you thinking of pizzas?"  You ask him, making him blink.

" Yes, totally. Go shower while I throw them in the oven." He tells you, turning his back to you.

You blink, confused. You don't have a change of your clothes lying around at his place. However, before any words can leave your now opened mouth, a bunch of clothes are thrown at you, along with a towel.

" Just wear my stuff, I don't care. Just don't want your ass sick in the morning." He says, hurriedly walking into the kitchen.

That was a lie, he actually very much does care. Especially about you wearing his stuff.

Miguel is a domestic man, especially after all he's been through. The idea of the two of you hanging out, cuddling up like you sometimes do, whilst wearing his clothes creates a pleasant image in his head.

It doesn't take long before you're out of the shower, and soon enough the two of you are eating pizza whilst arguing over what movie to watch. Eventually (after a whole while, the pizzas are actually already through), the two of you set on watching an action film.

And as the two of you move to sit on his bed like usual, he notices you glancing at him a little more than usual.

" What is it?" He asks as he glances back at you.

" Can we cuddle?" You ask him, biting your lip.

He gives you a smile as he nods.

" Sure."

He hopes you don't notice the slight blush on his cheeks.

-

When he wakes the next morning, he notices a few things. One, you're pressed up to his side, cuddling into his large frame, your face buried in his chest. Two, how well rested he feels. It's been a good while since he felt like this. And three, you're way too hot to not be sick.

With a soft sigh, he contemplates on his decision. He wants to stay home to take care of you, but he's also supposed to look for anomalies a few floors down.

It's embarrassing how quick he actually manages to make a decision. 

Would it even be worth fighting for the multiverse if you aren't in his?

And so he finds himself putting together an amount of hologram screens and such to be able to work from his apartment.

It takes a while before you wake up, but when you do, you merely turn on your ass and fall back asleep in a ridiculous position again. However, not too long after that, you wake again, looking around a little confused whilst you sit up. You wrap the blanket closer around you, wrapping yourself completely up in it with the exception of your face.

" Hm?" 

" I feel like a boiled sausage." You grunt in annoyance, before flopping down on his bed again.

He can't help but smile.

" I'm afraid you're sick, Perla." He tells you.

You curl up.

" What? No I'm not. Feel great'." You grumble sarcastically.

He shakes his head.

" What would you like for breakfast?" He asks in return.

You let out a dramatic sigh.

" Nothing, my stumic feels queasy- Wait, since when are you able to work from up here?" You ask, noticing he now actually has a chair in his room. And a desk. And a lot of screens.

" Since today. And still, you should eat." He says as he gets up.

Whilst he walks off to do whatever, you take a moment to study his new set up. You've never really paid any attention to his work before, not really liking 'office work' as you tend to call it. A moment later he returns, a plate with food in hand. He hands it to you wordlessly. You get up from his bed to eat (you're not a psycho).

" Soo, am I helping with work today?" You ask him, leaning onto his chair from behind him. You try to ignore the obvious shivers of your skin. You definitely have a fever.

He glances at you.

" No. You're going to lie down and rest. I'm going to work." He tells you before he gets up.

To your utter suprise, he turns to you, his huge posture suddenly looming over yours. With gentle hands, he leads you backwards to his bed, your knees bending when the back of your legs touch the bed. He bends down to maneuver the rest of your body onto the bed, getting you to lay sideways. He tucks you in aswell, before the two of you end up staring awkwardly at one another yet again.

" G'night." He greets you, before turning to his hologram screens again.

You watch him work for a moment, studying the screens as well. There's nothing interesting currently happening. It doesn't take long before you doze off.

Miguel watches you once you've fallen asleep fondly. He's really falling further and further into the feelings he's hiding for you. In moments like this, he believes he could do it. Maybe he could be happily in a relationship with you while also helping the multiverse. He shakes his head, running his hands over his face before sighing deeply. What the hell is he starting to think about? He's spiderman. He can't have you, no matter how bad he wants you.

With another deep sigh, he makes a hard decision.

He has to create space between the two of you.

[ A/N: Next update'll take a while, I'm on a vacay with my mum for next week so see ya'll after that.]

004

000 - Taglist

@adamsloverboy​

@ihateuguys​

@alchemist421​

[mydearneteyam]

AS IT RAINS ;; TEYLAN

summary ;; just one look is enough to want to learn more.

pairing ;; teylan x gn!na'vi!reader

warnings ;; none

word count ;; 0.8k

word of the day ;; nume [ˈn·u.m·ɛ] vin. learn

"Yes, I-I know, I'm sure I know it's name!" you heard Teylan's voice along with a soft laughter from Ri'nela. As you entered HQ you came upon two familiar faces. From the tablet in the female's hands you could guess that she was trying to see if Teylan knew the names of the pictures. Priya told you they were 'memory games' to get the younger Sarentu to get used to Pandora a little more. Behind Teylan's back you folded your arms, waiting for him to speak.

"Well?" smiled Ri'nela, giving you an amused look. The capped one scanned the image in front of him and clapped his hands.

"It's a Whipfang Crawler!" he exclaimed. You gave a couple of soft claps, making him jump in fright and turn to look at you.

"Tslikxyu Txumtem" you corrected. "But very good. I see you've made progress" you sat down next to him, swinging one of your legs over the couch. The girl extended the tablet to you.

"I got eight out of ten right, but the names in Na'vi are still… complex for me" you listen to him at the same time he receive the device, reviewing the earliest pictures.

You remembered a couple of words from Dr. Alma, who had explained to you that Teylan was the most attached to English and in itself, to human practices or customs.

"You're on the right track." you pointed out to him, noticing the boy's face light up all over, happy to have approval, you could guess.

"I have to go. Nor has asked me to help with something." indicated Ri'nela, holding onto your shoulder and carefully, you placed your hand over hers, smiling.

"That's alright. I can go on. I'm a great teacher" you laughed, making Teylan's tail wag anxiously as he noticed how you took the tablet from him and set it down on the couch.

"Are we gonna keep studying?" he asked, to which you stood up, holding out your hand.

"Outside. We are going to study outside" you indicated.

…

"Look, look, a Helicoradian!" Teylan smiled, approaching the plant excitedly, touching it and noticing how it retracted. It had been a while since both of them had left the place and for now, it has been good. Very good.

"And in our language, what is it called?" you asked, keeping up with him. Teylan made a grimace that you found amusing, where he also shrugged, hoping he was right.

"Tawtsngal?" you denied. "Ah, Loreyu!" now you nodded.

"Tawtsngal, 'the plant of love' according to humans… it's from another area" you remember, looking down at your feet as you walked. Suddenly, the sound of some branches and something falling made you raise your head. Teylan frowned and before he could bring his hand to his cap, you stopped him.

"Kali'weya…" now, he didn't remember that name at all, but when he noticed that from his cap dangled something similar to what Nor once caught, similar to a scorpion, his eyes snapped open, terrified.

"Wha...what do I do?" he asked, almost freaking out. Carefully and with only the tip of one of the arrows you had, you received it, pulling it out of Teylan's cap and setting it down on a log.

"They can sting" you said, now taking his face onto your hands and examining to see if something else hadn't landed on his hair. The closeness was such that the boy's tail once again swayed vigorously and anxiously. When you noticed his ears tilted back, you released him, with your cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry, I thought something else had fallen."

Teylan shook his head, embarrassed. "It's okay…" he pressed his lips, starting to turn around. You were just about to suggest to come back at HQ if he wanted, but when you felt drops of water fall to your face you smiled.

"Let's stay here for a while, please" you took his hand before he managed to walk away. Although that action even surprised you, you didn't want to avoid physical contact between both.

The Sarentu looked at you for a few seconds. Your hair was beginning to be adorned by the raindrops and the bio-luminescence of the trees was beginning to glow behind your figure, thought your freckles were too. Your nose wrinkled every time the water hit your face, but you kept smiling.

"You are a blessing…" he said, with a low tone. You turned to look at him and he tried to walk away again, embarrassed. "Sorry, sorry!"

"Syawn, blessing. Rain is a blessing" you nodded with a serene face, oblivious to the context of what he said. "You get it right, well done. We can go back now" you let go of his hand, but he took it again with purple cheeks.

"I want… to learn more"

You noticed that the rain became heavier, but his grip, for the first time, was resolute.

"As you wish".

a/n ;; i had an idea for a series for so'lek but mmmm- and i repeat, people, if i make a mistake please correct me, english isn't my first language and i'm insecure.....

[marabelle5]

The 'Vigil' Keeper

Pix looked up from his book as the bell rang. It was Xisuma Void, the principal of the school the next street over. Pix chuckled to himself, he remembered that someone told him that the kids were calling Hermitopia for some reason. Pix smiled. The shop had few customers this time of day and at this day of the week. It had been an uneventful Tuesday.

“Good afternoon Xisuma. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well. How are you?” 

“I’m great. Thanks for asking. So what brings you to Pixandria on this dark and gloomy afternoon?” Pix replied. 

Pix pulled down the sleeve of his dark blue sweater. It was cold even with all the candles lit. Pixandria was not a dark place, it was far from it. Between the candles lit all around to the replica of the ancient ‘Vigil’ to the four mysterious ‘conduits’ (lamps Pearl painted for him) he put around the place, it was quite bright.

“Could I pick up the 200 candles I ordered?” Xisuma asked then quickly he said. “No dyes or scents.” Pix smiled again.

“Of course. What do you need it for?” Pix said while he went under the counter to grab the order. Xisuma laughed.

“Well Tango said how it would be fun to do a lab with candles for the kids and Cleo immediately agreed saying it would be fun to experiment with the wax for an art project.”

“Ah I see. Looks like you’ve paid for everything beforehand.” Pix was about to hand the box to X when a couple kids ran in and stared at the ‘Vigil’.

“Um King Pixl Riffs? What is that?” A boy with dirty blond hair and hazel eyes pointed to the ‘Vigil’. 

“Well. It is what I call the ‘Vigil’ . Every time an emperor is ‘pranked’ by another empire I put up a candle and if they get 12 candles I make a paper lantern of the color of the empire. I have a list of who did the ‘pranks’ and we talley them up at the end of the year and then I reset the ‘Vigil’.”

   The kids who had entered with the boy now had big smiles on their faces.

“You guys prank each other?” A boy with curly brown hair asked excitedly. 

“Like we do at school sometimes?” A girl with black hair said. Pix laughed as Xisuma sighed.

“What kind of pranks do you do?” The trio shouted in unison.

“Well one time Jimmy and I changed all of fWhip salmon pictures to cod pictures but he caught on quickly and they were all changed back within a day and fWhip gave Jimmy a salmon statue saying sense he loved salmon so much he should have it. And there was another time when Pearl and I went around asking everyone weird or confusing trivia and it all bottled down to who makes the best honey which isn’t really a prank but a fond memory. We also all said hi to Gem each in a different way then we normally did it but how another emperor said hi.”

When Pix stopped talking. 

“Thank you King Mr. Vigil Keeper.” The children said and they ran out of the store no doubt going to Pearl’s to get a drink of hot cocoa that she sells in the winter. The name made a chill go up Pix’s spine.

Pix waved goodbye to Xisuma. He flipped his sign to closed and headed down the very long stairs to the basement. The wooden stairs creaked under his feet but as he got lower the stairs became stone and you could hear his sandals slap against the stone. The walls have a spot for candles to light the path but Pix usually ignores them and thinks about events that happened during the day. The basement has two layers where the stairs turn to stone. You can see Daivd and when you get to the end of those stone stairs you will step on to the ground only to find that it is sand. If you walk a bit in this sand you’ll find a very old and ancient monument called The Vigil.  

Pix looked at The Vigil every candle was burning bright. He sighed. He felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He took it out and pressed the answer button.

“Hello Zloy, how are you doing?”

“Pix, Pix the Copper King might be out tonight! Can you come?” An excited Zloy said.

“No sorry I have…” Pix trailed off thinking of an excuse. 

“Oh. Are you free for recording tomorrow?”

“Let me check my schedule and I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay. Lyarrah and I are going out to record in the field tonight.”

“Alright. See yuh tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

“Good night.” Pix took off his blue sweater. He put on a brown undershirt and pants. He bore a sandy color jacket with copper shoulders and lining down. And went up to The Vigil and put on perfectly on top of his head a copper crown. He then grabbed his trident. 

The Copper King smiled as he exited his underground lair. He turned on his com and took his watch.