#[the first of the opening drabbles to this start]

[rosenclaws]

Hi!! I’d love to see you do the prompt “Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it.” with Logan! Was thinking of the reader who’s so self loathing of her own powers opening up for the first time towards Logan 🥺

warnings: angst/fluff, Logan has interesting teaching methods lol

600 follower drabble masterlist

wc: 1.2k

a/n: So this also...turned into more than a drabble oops. I got carried away I can't help it asdflk;h. Anyways I totally got inspired by ATLA for some of the logan pep talk if u can tell lol.

The mansion was so lonely. It shouldn't be but it is. Especially for you. Brought here as a child you grew up here. You were excited, hopeful that maybe you could start a new life here. But then your powers went haywire.

Just when you thought things could be different your emotions got the better of you. Fire raged through the mansion and you couldn't stop it. The more you panicked the worst it got.

When the flames were put out all you could see was the destruction that ravaged the once spotless mansion. It was an accident. Charles knew it and so did everyone else but that didn't stop the whispers, the fear. You never wanted this.

You did all you could to suppress your powers for years. Leaving the school and never looking back. Years passed and you managed to live a quite life. You went to work and went home. It was a lonely life but you couldn't hurt anyone so it you learned to live it.

Then one day you got a letter from Charles. It was a matter of such importance that you had no choice but to return. It was weird being back.

It was in the dead of the night that you found yourself alone. Just as you remembered. This time wandering through the halls of the mansion. Your fingers traced the familiar paintings and furniture. A frown coming over your face as you trace the faint scorch marks that still remain.

"So those were you." A deep voice startles you.

You feel a light flame escape your fingertips as you shove you cross your arms and hide your hands away. There stands Logan with a cigar in his mouth. You breathe a sigh of relief as you lower your arms.

"Sorry, didn't meant to scare you." He holds out his cigar and you roll your eyes. He's been trying to get you to use your powers, to light his damn cigars because he's too lazy to reach into his own pocket.

"Come on, just a little flame." He says with a smirk.

"Can I help you Logan?" Though you're glaring he can see that small smile.

You and Logan were unlikely friends as you put it. The two of you understood each other. Understood the want to hide away. Don't get close and you won't get hurt. Even with that mantra somehow you were each others exception.

Maybe it was stupid but having Logan was nice. He was nice in his own weird way. Looked out for you, joked with you on the rare occasion. Plus he was easy on the eyes, but you don't let yourself go there. Love...it's just not meant for you. You don't do love and neither does Logan. Even if you want it, even if sometimes he finds his way into your dreams.

"Nope." He gestures for you to follow him so you do. Walking quietly through the halls until he leads you outside. A chill washes over you step outside.

"Just a little light for me sweetheart?" Okay the first time was charming but now it's getting annoying.

"Will you quit it." You snap. Logan raises an eyebrow and you sigh. Sitting down on a bench and looking down at your hands.

"You know I don't use my powers anymore."

"I know."

"So why do you keep asking?" He shrugs and sits down next to you.

"Because, I think you're being ridiculous."

"Excuse me?" You scoff. You clench your fists as you glare at Logan.

"So what you burned some wood big deal. That really all it takes for you to run?"

You're hurt and confused where the hell this is coming from. You thought he'd understand you but clearly you were wrong.

"You know what Logan fuck you." You hiss as you stand up.

Logan grabs your wrist before you can walk away and in a fit of anger you push him away. Flames coming out of your hand and hitting him square in the chest. You gasp as his flannel catches fire. Without thinking you press your hand and kill the flame.

"Logan I-"

"Stop." He grabs your wrist and points to an empty fire pit.

"Light it."

"Logan I can't."

"Yes you can sweetheart," He tilts your head towards him. Looking at you with a sparkle in his eye.

"Trust yourself." You take a deep breath and send a fireball into the pit, lighting it up.

Your hand tingles as you use your powers for the first time in a long time. You wait for the other shoe to drop. For the fire to rage past what it's meant to be but it never does. Slowly you hold your hand out focus, the fire slowly gets smaller until it's snuffed out. You stare at your hand in awe. Control. You had control.

"Fire is destruction." Logan interlaces your fingers with his. He's got this smile that you've never really seen before.

"But it's also life, it's beautiful. You're beautiful." You bite your lip as he squeezes your hand. There's a fear that you'll burn him without thinking but he heals. You can't hurt him.

"Why are you helping me?" Why does he care this much? He didn't have to do this, you're not a student and yet here he is. Pushing you past your worries.

"I..." Logan tries to find the words. You're right he doesn't do this but he did for you because, well because..."I love you sweetheart."

Your eyes cloud with tears as you take in his words. He doesn't mean it can he? I mean, it's does he understand what that means. What it means to love you.

“Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it. Please." You don't think you could handle it. He's already got your heart and it won't take much to crush it.

"Are you doubting me? I'm over a hundred years old I know what love feels like." Logan brushes your lips with his thumb, he's not great with words but he knows what he feels. No one can tell him any different.

Your eyes flutter shut as he kisses you. He smells like cigar smoke and he tastes like honey. The kiss a little rough, you can tell he's trying to hold back. To be gentle which he's not always great at. You pout when he breaks the kiss, already wanting more.

"Later." He promises after noticing the look on your face.

You walk back through the mansion hand in hand. It's better at this hour, no prying eyes and whispers. For now it's just you and him. Though something does cross your mind as you reach your room.

"Did you...Were you trying to make me mad on purpose?" He smirks and pulls out another cigar from somewhere.

"It worked didn't it?" Unbelievable.

"You're an idiot Logan, what if I couldn't control it? What if I burned down the mansion, again?!" Logan rolls his eyes and kisses you again. Pushing you against the door. Your thoughts turn to mush as he kisses your neck.

"You aren't the monster you think you are." He whispers and you freeze. His words hitting you like a brick. Logan knows what it's like to be a monster, a weapon. He's the monster if anything. But you? You could never be. Not in his eyes.

Before he leaves he hands you his cigar. You shake your head and laugh. Holding out your hand you produce a small flame and he lights his cigar.

"Was all this just so I could give you a light?" You ask teasingly. Logan chuckles and presses another kiss to your cheek.

"Absolutely." As much as you want to invite him in your room, you decide to wait. Rushing anything with Logan is the last thing you want. You want the time to be together. A good fire needs to grow before it becomes a roar.

"Goodnight Logan."

"Goodnight sweetheart."

Your fingers slowly unlace as he walks away. You don't want him to go, fearing that this is just a one off night. There's no way you can have control so easily but then he looks back at you. He's got this look on his face that makes you feel like everything is going to be alright and for once you believe it.

[minimomoe]

The Little Things

AN: I was listening to Sexy to Someone by Clairo and thought of Nanami. short, fluffy drabble

You stood in front of the elevator and waited for the metal box to ascend to your floor. It was 8pm, well past office hours, but time waits for no man and you had work to finish. All that mattered now is that you were done. You could slip out of your drab work clothing and crawl into bed as soon as you got home.

You had hoped that you could ride down alone, but you found yourself holding the door open for Kento Nanami, your unrequited work crush. He swept in, his cologne filling up the air and you didn't find it nauseating in the slightest. It was clean, green, and oh so sexy.

"Thank you for waiting for me. Most people would let it close in my face."

"You're too not bad of company," you teased.

He smiled back down at you and you felt heat rush up to your face. It wasn't fair at all. He couldn't be this gorgeous with pretty brown eyes and be one of the nicest people you have ever met. You might not even make it down the elevator with how fast your heart thumped in your chest.

"So why did--"

"You look--"

You had both started talking at the same time. He laughed, apologized, and asked for you to go first.

"I was just gonna ask why are you staying so late?"

"They're pulling a lot of people from my department. Someone had to pick up the slack," he sighed. He ran his hands through his hair and it fell over in perfect tresses. How annoying. How gorgeous.

"Tell me about it. They're doing the same to us in the marketing department. The quarter's almost over so hopefully the workload will lessen."

You could do this with him. Small talk. Safe talk. There was nothing that could go wrong here. Nanami couldn't hear your heart racing in your chest. You just had to keep your cool.

"What were you going to say?" You remembered.

"Oh-- it... I don't think it matters anymore."

The handsome, suave Nanami was stuttering. You had the man stuttering. You snapped your head forward as if you were afraid you messed with the balance of the universe. He cleared his throat and looked at you once again.

"I hope that this doesn't come off... inappropriate. I think that blue looks wonderful with your complexion. And you got new glasses last week. I never got to compliment them."

Your ears were ringing. Did you hear him correctly? Nanami watched you, has kept you in his sights to know that your glasses have changed and complimented your favorite work dress. You peered up at him and his ears were flaming red. Your unrequited work crush could possibly be requited after all.

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami," you said softly with a shy smile. "It almost looks like were matching, right?"

He looked down at his own blue suit and chuckled. "It does, doesn't it."

The elevator dinged and the doors slowly slid opened. Nanami held his hand out for you to leave first and followed behind. You were keenly aware of how close he was to your body as you both said goodnight to the security guard on your way out of the building.

"Well... Good night to you too, Nanami. Try not to work yourself too hard this weekend," you waved. You started on the opposite direction before he called out your name.

"Would you... like to have a meal with me? I know a place," he asked.

You bit back a smile. Never would you have imagined that Kento of all people could get so shy. He patiently awaited your answer but you noticed his jaw tightening.

"I don't know. It's getting pretty late," you teased.

"This place is only open from 8pm to 12am. And a meal is always better with someone to eat with."

He was practically begging you to come with. You gingerly took your step towards him and his smile widened.

"I can take your bag," he offered. He slipped it off your shoulder and you softly hissed at his fingers grazing your shoulder. His eyes darkened at the sound but kept on strutting down the street. Once again, his ears were blushing and you internally squealed. To think that you were rushing to go home only to end up on a date with Nanami. Was this a date?

Only your brain to mouth filter was broken, and you actually asked the question out loud. He gave you a fond look. "I would like for it to be."

You hooked your hand around his raised arm. All this time you thought that your feelings would never be reciprocated, but it looks like you were sexy to someone after all.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[sandwitchstories]

5 More Minutes

I had this image in my head of Mouse in Sukuna's haori. And then this little drabble happened.

For more adventures with Mouse, check out my Dad!Sukuna Series on my AO3 - Here! )

Author's Note: For anyone new to my Dad!Sukuna Series, Mouse is Sukuna's, currently, 2 year old daughter with reader.

Summary: Sukuna's favorite haori has disappeared. It can't just grow legs and disappear. Or can it?

WC: 600+

CW: reader is referred to as 'Mama' but not described, toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms), it's pretty much just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack, SFW in every way, just family fluff, father and daughter fluff, writing them together gives me life

Sukuna gave a frustrated huff as he walked around his estate in search of his black haori. He had somewhere to be and he was not happy to have his departure delayed. He still needed to say goodbye to you and the brat. Which was never a short ordeal between your ‘one more kiss’ and Mouse’s ‘now me!’

You had been the first place he checked. You had a tendency to steal his clothing no matter how big it was on you. You had a litany of excuses for this behavior. However, today you were not the culprit.

He headed into your shared room to see if maybe he had left it in there, though he could swear he had grabbed it that morning. It wasn’t like the damn thing could grow legs… or could it? 

He went straight to your bed, looking down with his hands on his hips. It had indeed grown legs.

Two tiny legs attached to one very troublesome little girl. 

Mouse laid curled up in your bed, sound asleep, wrapped in his haori. Tsk. While it was indeed cute, it was also very annoying. Sukuna leaned forward and pulled at the material, trying to tug it out from under Mouse. She growled and rolled so it was tighter around her. He used a hand to gently start to roll her and try to retrieve his item. 

She cracked her eyes open and gave him your look of instant death. “What doing, Papa?”

“I am taking back my haori, Mouse. I have somewhere to be,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

She regarded him for a moment before turning her head and closing her eyes again. “5 more minutes, Papa. Please and thank you.”

“No more minutes, Mouse,” he said firmly, starting to pull on the material again.

“Don’t do it, Papa,” she said in a sleepy but grumpy tone.

“Or what?” he challenged her.

“I bite you, Papa.”

He guffawed at her. “You’ll bite me?”

“Yes, Papa.”

Her audacity knew no bounds. “Well, if you bite me I’ll bite you back. And I bite harder and have sharper teeth. Now, give me my haori.”

“But I comfortable, Papa…” she whined, rolling onto her back to rub her eyes and look up at him. “Why need it, Papa?”

“I already told you, I have somewhere I need to go,” he said, picking her up with one arm and taking his haori back with the other, ignoring her protests. “You can have it back when I get home.”

“But, Papa… I don’t want you to go,” her lip started to tremble.

“Well, tough shit, little one,” he said, laying her back down on the bed. He pulled the blanket up around her and rubbed her back. “Go back to sleep, Mouse. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Papa?”

“Yes, Mouse?”

“You bring back something tasty for Papa and Mouse?” she asked, eyes already fluttering closed.

He grinned. “I promise.”

“And I get it back when you get home?” she asked, reaching out her hand to sleepily play with the edge of the haori laying on the bed. 

“Yes, Mouse, you can have it back when I get home if that will please you,” he chuckled. “Now, I need to go.”

“Okay, Papa,” she said, a pout on her face making her chubby cheeks even more prominent. 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling back to leave. She caught his face between her hands and cracked open one eye. “One more kiss.” 

He gave her one more kiss and started to stand. He grunted as you managed to startle him as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. He glanced over his shoulder at you with an arched eyebrow.

You grinned up at him and said, “Now me!”

He was never getting out of there, was he? 

________________________________________

Author's Note: Sukuna was only that nice about his haori because she was asleep. One time, you and Mouse rolled up like a burrito in it. He grabbed on to the edge and gave it a yank, a huge smile on his face as he watched the two of you go flying across the bed. It's his brand of cuteness aggression.

[p0lyn3sian]

Hiii its me again, ok so, my request is slashers with a s/o who's really into skincare that her skin is so soft, smooth and glowy? And she has like a good haircare routine that her hair is smooth and shiny and just over all healthy? Reader just really cares about her over all appearance, thanks you!! ❤️

OMGGG OMGGG YESSSS THIS DRABBLE IS GOING TO BE GOODDD!!!

Sorry for not posting, school has been kicking my ass the last few weeks or so! I think this was a lot longer than some of the other headcannon's loll! So hope y'all like this :D!

Slashers: Patrick, Sinclair Brothers (Bo, Vincent, & Lester), RZ Michael, Brahms & Billy Lenz, Carrie, Chucky & Tiffany, Jason, The Lost Boys (David, Dwayne, Paul, & Marko), Norman, Billy & Stu, Thomas & Bubba

Slashers with S/O that loves to do skincare and hair routine!

Patrick:

Patrick immediately wanted to know where and how your skin glowed like that, and also how smooth your skin is too! Patrick wouldn't let you go anywhere! Your skin is too soft for him to let go! Patrick would also smell your hair and play with your hair too! He's not going to let you go, he's going to be snuggling with you in bed all day, even if you have work..!

Once you tell Patrick about how your skin is soft, smooth, and glowing as well as your hair. Patrick immediately wrote down everything you said, and went to the store after writing what you have said! You expected him to be gone for a few hours or so, because it kinda takes a long time for you to find everything, until he arrives 30 minutes later! Patrick would definitely want you to do the routine on him now, so be prepared for your hands to start aching!

Sinclair Brothers:

Your skin and hair was interesting to Vincent and Lester! Lester was the first one asking you how did you get your skin to glow and your hair like a goddess? Lester is just too mesmerized by your skin and hair, and he felt your hair and to his surprise it was really soft! Even your skin too, he would always want to snuggle with you, but you would always have to tell him to wash off too of course!

Bo would definitely steal you away from his brothers just for snuggles, and other stuff.. Bo can't keep his hands off of you! He's too busy touching your hair and skin, and it's too soft and smooth to let him go! You decided to do your routine on the brothers, and it definitely turned out well for all of them! They all smell great, their skin is kinda soft and smooth but either way it worked! Even their hair too! They all thanked you for your time to do their hair and skin routine!

RZ Michael:

Michael loves to smell your hair when he is by you. Something about your hair and skin just magically pulls Michael! Michael has been touching you a lot lately, whether you're doing chores or just laying down. If you're sitting on the couch, Michael would be on you and may sleep on you because the smell of you always does something to Michael! Michael loves the smell of your hair, he thinks it smells like strawberries!

When you realize Michael loves to smell your hair and touch you a lot more, you bought more of your skincare and hair stuff for you and Michael! You decided to help Michael with the stuff for his skin and hair! His skin turned out a lot smoother than expected, and it made you rub your cheek to Michael's cheek because of how smooth and soft his skin is! You then worked on Michael's hair, and Michael's hair really needed some conditioner to open the locks in his hair. After working on all the routine on Michael, Michael kinda liked the new "him". He's mostly staring at the mirror that's hanging on the door, just checking himself out. While you are on the bed telling him to just come and sleep with you. (We get it Michael, you're fine as hell, but you gotta come to bed 🙄.)

Brahms & Billy Lenz:

Brahms and Billy can't stop touching your skin and your hair! Their hands are always on you and sometimes on your hair too. You would always get pissed if you have done your hair for a special occasion or just for fun, but those two decide to put their faces into your hair! So, you always end up smacking them to get them away. These two are clingy to you wherever you go, whether it's the next room over or downstairs. Since you always smelt good, these two would always ruin the smell, and their smell is either a stinky smell or something else..

You decided to do your own routines on them! You started with hair, because these two hairs are stinky and they probably have lice. And that's okay, because luckily you were prepared for this! After scrubbing and washing all the stuff away from their hair, next was their skin! They showered after you have done their hair and sat down for you to do their skin. You then worked on their skin, applying whatever stuff you use on your skin and applied onto them! After all your hard work, you gave them a mirror and let them check themselves out. These two loved how you did your routine on them, and wanted you to start doing more on them too!(Bless all of your skin care and hair stuff, because these two would definitely beg you for more 😔!)

Carrie:

Carrie thought you were a Goddess! The way your hair shines in the sun, and how the sun shines your skin too! When you both hold hands, Carrie thought how soft your hand is too! She wanted to know how you glow in the sunlight, and what you use for your hair to smell so good too! Carrie had to encourage herself to tell you what products you use for your skin and hair, but she was too shy! She thinks that you would probably not tell her, but then she finds the courage and says her question to you! You immediately answered with a 'yes' and that you would definitely help her with the stuff she needs for her skin and hair!

You pulled her hand towards the store in the mall that you love buying your products from. After buying some products for you and Carrie, you both then walked to your car and drove off. While going back to the house, you were so excited to put skincare and hair products on Carrie! Carrie was pretty excited too! You brought out all the products from the bag and started doing her hair first while she was in the warm bath. Carrie felt really relaxed and she thanked you for taking your time for doing her skin and hair! After doing her hair, you explained which skincare products go first and last on her skin. She then started immediately wanting to see if your skincare products would work! She was amazed that her skin was so soft and glowy too! She hugged you and thanked you for taking your time to do all the stuff for her!

Chucky & Tiffany:

Tiffany was mesmerized how you glow in the sun and how your skin is so soft too! Even your hair pulled Tiffany in a trance! The way your hair shines in the sun and how soft it is! Tiffany would definitely want to do different hairstyles on you, and also different types of makeup too! She wanted you to tell what's your secret on how you glowed in the sun! Chucky thought you were like a sun, because of how you mostly shine everywhere, either it's inside or outside. Chucky and Tiffany love how you glow and shine everywhere you all go!

You showed Tiffany what products you love to use for your routines, and she immediately went into the bathroom to try them on. Chucky didn't want to do it since, he thinks those products are useless. He'll style whatever hairstyle he wants and how he'll take care of his skin. But too bad that Tiffany also dragged him into the bathroom after she did her hair. It all turned out well for Tiffany and Chucky! Tiffany's hair looked so soft as well as Chucky's, and how their skins shined under the bathroom light! Tiffany hugged you and thanked you for showing your routines and that she'll definitely buy more products for you, her and Chucky! Chucky didn't want to lie, but he liked the smell of his own hair and how smooth his skin is too!

Jason:

Jason has always wondered how you even glow in the sun! He loves seeing how the sun kisses your skin and your hair, Jason thinks you're a literal Goddess just walking around in the forest! You always loved how Jason touches you carefully as you are a precious thing to him! Jason also loves getting snuggles from you, he loves how soft you are too! He'll try making different hairstyles from papers that he'll search from people's bags that he had killed.

Jason was a bit shy and embarrassed to ask you for those products you use in your daily life. He came to you, and asked in ASL if you could do products on him, but just his skin since he knows that he doesn't have hair. You immediately said yes and of course you would help him! You got all your supplies and started applying what you usually do in your own skin. It did take a little bit of time, because of Jason's body being almost as a bodybuilder or a bear body! Once everything was done, Jason touched his own arm and rubbed up and down, and he loved how smooth he was! He gave you a crushing hug, which almost caused you almost to pass out, but luckily he let go once he realized your body wasn't breathing. Jason would always come to you if he wants to do his skincare again and grab the items that you need (mostly from campers that are killed).

The Lost Boys:

You put all the boys in a trance, from how your skin and hair is glowing in the moonlight! They haven't realized until now! Get ready to get bombarded with a lot of questions! Like, the boys had to ask what you make your skin so smooth and soft whenever they touch you. Or when they all smell that sweet fragrance when you are walking around with them! You told them that you use products for those things, except perfume.

They wanted you to immediately do it on them, so you did for fun! You applied skincare products on all the boys, and while they were waiting for their skin to be as smooth and soft as yours, you were doing their hair next! Paul and Dwayne's hair was a little tangled, but nothing too much. David and Marko's hair is easy and you can easily brush and put on the stuff in their hair! Once you were done with everything, the boys were so excited to see how everything turned out! And it all turned out perfectly! Their hair was as soft as yours and their skin was so smooth like yours too! They all loved you for taking the time and helping with them!

Norman:

Norman loves how you always glow in the light of your shared home, or in the motel working! He just can't keep his eyes off of you! And he loves the smell of your perfume, he'll sometimes smell strawberry pound cake, vampire blood, etc (or any spray perfume from bath and body wash/other places!!). If Norman is close by you, and if he can smell your hair from where he's standing, he'll also notice that your hair smells just like the perfume you sprayed! He just can't get enough of it, he loves all those perfume and hair stuff you use!

Norman would also notice that your skin is really healthy! He needs to know what makes your skin so glowy like that! You went to stores that you love shopping for your products and went home to try all of them on Norman! He was very excited to try some of your products, and you went to work doing it. After all those products were on Norman, Norman was so surprised that he looked really good! Norman thanked you so much that you can't even count! He'll cherish this forever in his life and heart!

Billy & Stu:

Billy and Stu would give you so many compliments, because of how pretty you are! Stu would always try and hug you because of how soft and smooth you are! As for Billy, he would try and hug you longer so that he could smell your hair, not gonna lie. Billy just loves the smell of your hair and he wanted to know what shampoo and conditioner you use. Stu asked the same thing, but for skin!

You gave them your products of what you use, and these two immediately went into the bathroom and tried the products out. Billy put the shampoo that smelled like your hair and afterwards put on conditioner after drying his hair. Stu shaved, and put in the products that you use for your skin as well as Billy. And they loved how they smell just like you! After these two were done using the shared bathroom, they both walked to you and got into the bed. You loved how they smelled nice now, but you liked the men's products they use because they smell really good, but it doesn't last too long.. Anyways, you all cuddled to sleep, and you loved how fresh the smell was from these two. (Until, the next few days you found all of your products gone from those two using all of it 😔.)

Thomas & Bubba:

Thomas and Bubba wanted to know how you are glowing! Thomas' eyes are always on you and sometimes Mama Luda would scold him to do his work first, and then hangout with you. Bubba would always hangout with you if Thomas doesn't need any help with chores. Bubba loves how smooth your skin is too! Bubba would point to his makeup and then to you, asking you if he can do your makeup. And of course you accepted his request! You always love how bubba is getting better and better with his makeup progress!

Bubba would try and do your hair, but he would sometimes get really frustrated with how your hair doesn't look like the ladies in the magazine. He would slump his shoulders knowing that he didn't do a great job on your hair, but to you it was just progress for Bubba! You will always give him praises on how he did a great job on your makeup and hair, and give him lots of cuddles to make him feel a lot better! As for Thomas, he would go onto his knees and put his head on your thighs, and he would take a few deep breaths smelling your sweet and comforting fragrance! Thomas loves the fragrance that you love to put on, and that fragrance could always make this man sleep in just a few minutes or so. Thomas and Bubba love your cuddles that you give them, because your skin is so smooth and soft that after rubbing or massaging, these two will knock out from it!

[levandright]

i need a jay x reader (can be anything really, fic/drabble/hc whatever is easiest) where he's courting the reader the filipino way to win her heart 😍 fluff plz. also please please please, add a part where he's singing us a song he wrote for us if yk what i mean ;)

THANK KEW IN ADVANCE LEV IF U MAKE IT<3 hope ur having a good day and don't forget to take care of urself pooks 💜

JAY — COURTING YOU

pairings : jay x f!reader 🎀 content / warning(s) : fluff, courting/harana, jay is a absolute gentleman, fluff, non-idol au 🎀 word count : 0.5k ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : took me a while to do this cause my brain was out of creativity >.> hope you like this mootie <3

you and jay met through a mutual friend, and since that first encounter, he's been completely smitten with you.

the two of you hit it off from the start, and jay, with his growing and intense feelings for you day by day, confesses to you during a party hosted by your mutual friend.

you didn’t reject him; instead, you explained how you were unsure of your feelings. you knew him well enough to see he was a great guy—you just weren’t sure if you felt the same way yet.

he asks if you’ll let him court you, to win your heart through his efforts. with no complaints, you agree to this arrangement.

he makes a lasting impression the very next day, showing up at your door with a bouquet of roses in hand, asking if you’d like to join him for a date.

he takes you to a museum, where you stroll around the exhibits together, allowing him to get to know you even more deeply. afterward, he drives you home safely, the evening ending on a warm note.

that’s how the two of you fall into a routine: jay arrives at your door, taking you out on casual yet romantic dates, each outing another step in truly knowing each other.

two months pass by in a blur of shared moments and growing warmth between you. then, one fateful night, you receive a text from him, asking you to look out your window. you do just that, and there he is—your jay, standing in your front yard, guitar in hand, surrounded by flowers scattered all around, creating a scene so romantic you’ve only seen in movies.

as he strums his guitar and sings to you, butterflies erupt in your stomach, intensifying with every note. when he finishes, you head downstairs, to finally answer him.

he stands there bashfully, with his hands fidgetting behind him, waiting for you to say something. you give him a cheeky grin as you finally say what he's been wanting for you to say.

"i've gotta admit, you know how to make a girl feel special," you say, smiling. "i tried to take things slow, but you’ve completely won me over, jay. i’d be crazy not to want to be with you. so… consider this my 'yes.' you're officially my boyfriend."

jay’s eyes light up the moment he hears your answer, his smile widening as relief and happiness wash over his face.

without missing a beat, he closes the space between you, his voice soft but filled with excitement, "you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to hear that," he says, a hint of laughter breaking through. "i promise, i’ll make you happier than you can imagine."

in one smooth motion, he pulls you into a gentle hug, holding you as if to make sure this moment is real, whispering, "thank you for giving me a chance… for letting me be yours."

as he pulls back just enough to look at you, there’s that familiar spark in his eyes, and with a teasing smile, he adds, "guess that makes me officially your boyfriend now, huh?"

you roll your eyes playfully at him as he repeats what you just said "yes, yes. you're now my boyfriend officially."

perm taglist.@honeybelleee @honeychocos @manaah02 @kozumesphone (open!) requests. open!

©levandright

[avonne-writes]

Can I humbly request Bucky finding out about the interpretation/torture/truth serum at some point at the Stalag (bc there's no way that didn't have some lasting effects on Gale)

Re: this Reverie drabble

Hi dear, thank you for the request 🩷 Yes, there are some lasting effects for sure! This is explored in Reverie, including Bucky's reaction to it. Since this is already in the main fic, I decided to write a little post-war drabble instead. 😊 I will post all of these drabbles to AO3.

Sleep in my dream

The straps come out of nowhere. Leather-brown snakes, slithering forward to bind Gale's arms and feet and chest and neck and tie him down until he can’t take a breath. Their skin is fraying where his struggles rubbed them raw, but they shed it in long, sticky strips that fall away from the rickety metal of the cot like potato peels. His wide-open eyes stare horrified at the door, where the footsteps come closing in, drumroll like his heartbeat when he jumped out of his plane over Bremen. He needs to get out. He can’t stay here, he needs out, he’ll bite through the meat of those snakes and free himself with venom and blood frothing at his mouth if that's what it takes, but he needs to get out!

The straps tear, the sound of a ripcord pulled, his parachute opens but he’s all tangled up, and his halted jump slams him into the side of his fort, his head hurts, but he falls knee first into a funnel, where only darkness, pain and fear await. He screams.

"Jesus Christ!" The first thing he hears as the world starts taking shape again.

Out of a pitch black canvas of shadows, objects emerge. A bedside table. A photograph knocked over. The edge of a bedframe, Gale's trembling hand on smooth oak John chose for them himself. The flutter of their curtains by the window, the faintest lights of dawn, soothing Gale, it’s okay, it’s okay. Snake-straps fattened into the duvet and tangled around Gale's legs. It was just a nightmare he dreamt alone.

His only captor is his own mind.

"Buck, are you okay?" A hand finds his shoulder, pats him down over his arms and chest, then the tender crown of his head. When those fingers find a sore spot, Gale winces and pushes them away. "Did you hurt your head?"

Gale doesn’t reply. A part of him doesn’t know where he is. It still lingers in his nightmare, where the pain in his throat and the tremors in his limbs come from, and he can’t pull it out until his body is back under his control.

With his jaw clenched, he shoves the torn duvet off his legs and stands. His knee throbs but it isn’t broken. No blood oozes from his head. When he rights the photograph, it stays upright, the glass smooth and intact. There’s no damage that cannot be repaired. Stubble tickles his palm where he presses it to John's face, just for a moment, then he pulls away.

The walk to the bathroom is sobering, the cold touch of the tiles under his bare feet a welcome discomfort. The sharp change when he turns on the lights hurts. Gale deserves it. If for nothing else, then for making John worry. Squinting, he splashes water on his face, then looks at himself in the mirror. A wan ghost stares back. His nightmare drained the life out of him.

Sighing, he wipes his face with a towel, then turns the lights off and pads back to bed.

He finds John sitting at the edge of the mattress. The bedside lamp on John's side is on, and there’s a new cover on the duvet to replace the one Gale tore. Fresh pyjamas wait folded on Gale’s pillow.

Still silent, Gale doesn’t look at John. He shrugs off his sweat-soaked clothes and puts on the new ones. He’s grateful that John knows him enough by now not to talk over the quiet. Gale needs it to pull himself together. Something terrible rises in him and he doesn’t want to break the dam.

It's only when Gale comes back from taking the dirty laundry away that John opens his mouth to talk.

"Was it the interrogation again?" His tone is somber and understanding, not impatient like Gale fears sometimes.

Gale hums yes and sits down next to him, with just enough space to feel John's warmth but not touch him. It should be John's choice if he wants to do that. Craving comfort doesn’t make one entitled to it.

When John's arm curls around his back nevertheless, Gale closes his eyes. The terrible thing snaps its jaws like a rabid dog in his heart. John strokes his side. "You’re not there anymore. You’re safe home with me, doll. I won’t let anyone hurt you again."

They're still hurting me, Gale thinks, but he doesn’t want to talk. Words feel too heavy for his tongue to move around them. Pain glues his lips closed tight. Before the war, he didn’t know hard it could be to heal from invisible wounds. The only time he and John truly fought in the past six months since their reunion was when John called what happened to Gale torture. It’s not a word Gale ever wants to hear. He wasn’t tortured. He was interrogated. He’s fine. All he needs is time.

"Please, talk to me." John asks quietly, but Gale shakes his head. Something bitter tries to crawl out of his throat over the aching strain left behind by his scream.

John's hold around him tightens to pull him flush to John's side. John's free hand finds one of Gale's. Warm lips press to Gale's temple, lingering. John's mustache is soft and familiar against his skin.

"Then let's go back to sleep. I'll dream us a summer day. How about that, hm? No darkness. Just light and colours."

The terrible feeling in Gale's chest pushes at his chest, rearranges his bones until he can’t breathe, but when it can't break free, it bursts through his eyes with stinging pain. He raises a hand to cover it but the tears leaking past his eyelashes keep flowing.

"All right." John murmurs. "Just let it out, darling."

"John." Gale chokes through the knot in his throat.

John pulls him into a tighter embrace until Gale’s face is tucked in the crook of his neck. "I love you."

Gale’s breathing catches on a sob, but he tries to hold the rest of them back. It’s pathetic to cry over a nightmare. It's even worse if it's the overwhelming force of love that cracks your heart open to leave you vulnerable.

John strokes his hair. "You don’t have to dream alone again."

Gale sinks deeper into the warmth of John's hug and tries to remind himself of that. It was just a nightmare. They got their connection back. In John's dreams, they've built a new home where their souls can meet. They're safe. They won their peace. One day, all Gale's wounds will heal.

[imagineitdearies]

~ A Flawed Eternity ~

(AKA drabbles set in the Perfect Slaughter universe. 🩵 Special thanks to @secretbraintwin for the ko-fi request! 🩵 Also as a love letter to you PS enjoyers still out there--as braintwin put it, "this is terrible but we're going to help each other through it" is a sentiment many of us could use right now.)

~

In which Astarion gets worse and worse at not being in love, i.e. Chapter 22. Content warning for dubious consent.

~

Astarion didn’t like magic on principle, after how many ways it had been used to make his life a living Hell. Not that he would dissuade Tyrus from all the useful tricks the drow creatively employed to make their existence a bit less miserable. To feed Astarion, even, despite what it cost him.

And until recently—until Cazador took Tyrus away for an entire year, and then just a single, life-ruining night—the little magic Astarion had a knack for seemed useless anyway. Right up until he started secretly researching Polymorph for the chance to give Tyrus something for once, and happened upon Prestidigitation in the opening chapters of an arcane book.

It felt dangerously easy, practicing the incantation and hand somatics just a few times one morning until Astarion felt the spark of something in his hands. But that was just before the door opened and Tyrus walked in late with a flat, empty look in his eyes, pulling Astarion away from the little discovery.

Astarion tried to cheer him with a warm, “Good morrow, love,” as Tyrus shut the door, wondering if he should share his private studies now to lift the drow’s dour spirits. 

But Astarion quickly forgot the notion when he saw Tyrus’s face crumple into something terrified and broken as their eyes met.

Astarion didn’t think further before snapping the book shut and tossing it onto the bedside pile, going upright. He had to hold himself back from a faster speed, really, not wanting to rush Tyrus despite his hurry to reach him.

In the meantime, Tyrus was murmuring something Astarion only belatedly realized must have been a few spells, his dark ruby eyes flashing with just the smallest twinkle before he stared at the wall to Astarion’s right. And the terror faded back behind that flat, empty expression again, in the bare seconds before Astarion stood in front of him.

“Tyrus?” When Tyrus made no answer, Astarion reached out—then stopped himself. “ What’s happened?” he entreated instead, stepping just a bit closer.

Finally, Tyrus looked at him again, his pale brow furrowing as he asked the last thing Astarion expected: “Can I kiss you?”

Astarion wanted to kiss him every day. He wanted to hold him and touch him, make him smile and bring him pleasure. He wanted Tyrus, with a true desire he’d thought had been lost decades ago.

But in his imaginings of how it would go, the first time they tried intimacy again after Cazador’s assault on Tyrus, Astarion had pictured kissing him after some lovely day of reading stories, or listening to Tyrus ramble about the arcane, or once Astarion had provided Tyrus with a bit of blood.

Not when Tyrus looked the way he did now: scared, resigned—hopeless.

Astarion could only make terrible guesses as to why. “Darling, what’s the matter?” he asked, just barely stopping himself from reaching out a hand and cupping the other man’s cheek.

“I . . .” Tyrus grimaced, looking further crestfallen as he admitted, “I just wanted to ask, before I explain.”

Explain what, part of Astarion wanted to ask right away. But the rest of him didn’t look forward to bad news. Clearly, Tyrus was holding onto something terrible. And the fact that he wanted to kiss Astarion first was concerning on top of strange—but as Astarion looked over Tyrus’s face, he could somehow tell the question was genuine. The desire for Astarion was there, only half-smothered by a thousand other worries and fears and needs at the moment.

It wasn’t close to the ideal kiss Astarion had imagined . . . but outside of whatever else was going on, it seemed to fully be Tyrus’s choice.

With that knowledge, “How could I say no?” 

Astarion took the chance to hold him a bit, on top of joining their lips. And just sliding his palm to press against the small of Tyrus’s back felt like so much combined with the way Tyrus was kissing him, his lips clinging to every movement of Astarion’s as if unwilling to let the kiss end. Whilst a growing flame of desire flared within him, Astarion wrapped his other hand around Tyrus’s shoulders, felt a greedy satisfaction as Tyrus reached up to do the same, and wondered if he needed to know about whatever Tyrus thought should be explained. If they couldn’t just lay down and get lost in each other, just like this, instead.

But Tyrus broke from the kiss and spoke poison into the air: “He’s watching.”

The fire in Astarion’s belly abruptly died a cold, damp death.

The gift of permission into the favorite spawn chamber, so long as Tyrus allowed it, was already tarnished by why Cazador had granted it. And anytime Astarion forgot and felt himself growing too happy, a haunted look would cross Tyrus’s eyes and remind him. Or worse, something dead would flatten the drow’s expression. And Astarion had nothing save useless words and the futile effort of gathering gold to offer.

Nothing, save his own blood.

Considering how long it’d been since Cazador’s fuck-feeding of the poor man, Astarion had guessed another encounter was imminent. Tyrus would have little chance to resist if he didn’t get a single drop of sustenance in the meantime—and perhaps this was the price.

Maybe Astarion should be grateful it was him Tyrus was likely being forced on again, not Cazador himself. 

He wasn’t.

“He wants us to do something,” Tyrus explained, confirming his guess, and Astarion felt abruptly nauseous. Grateful in a rational way that Tyrus was telling him the truth, while also furious in a childish way that he couldn’t have continued on in blissful ignorance. “For me, to—to—”

Astarion’s mind flashed through a dozen terrible possibilities, and suddenly he had to know, so his mind could replace the disgusting, terrifying memory of hurting Tyrus in the kennels with anything else. “For you to what, Tyrus?” he asked, keeping his voice slow and careful despite his inner rage.

It burst out of Tyrus like a convoluted geyser, then. Something to do with Cazador blackmailing Tyrus into performing oral sex on him, first with the promise of blood, then a threat on Astarion, before settling on the likely-more satisfying conclusion of getting to watch the both of them in misery while Tyrus went to Astarion instead.

Not so bad as Astarion had feared, truly. But the misery on Tyrus’s face made sense—Astarion knew the withering, soul-crushing pain of guilt well, despite his own best efforts to cultivate a bit of sadism to counter it. With how much Cazador pulled the strings, the few semblances of choice he offered were almost always equally terrible, detrimental to the soul. But certainly in this case, Tyrus had correctly chosen the lesser of two evils, he thought.

Not that Tyrus seemed to believe it. Either that, or they had already run out of time—for then Tyrus began moving to his knees in front of Astarion as if to start things here. With such a miserable, forlorn expression on his pretty face, Astarion didn’t think even a direct compulsion from Cazador would manage to stir interest in his groin right now.

“Tyrus,” Astarion entreated, putting a hand on the man’s robed shoulder as he checked, “can you wait?”

Tyrus’s eyes widened in sudden horror. “Yes, sorry, whatever you’d like,” he said in a hurried, guilty tone, head ducked as he rose back up and nodded.

Astarion couldn’t stand to see him so unsure, so afraid, when he could still do something about it. So he took a page out of the drow’s own book and pulled Tyrus in, wrapping arms tight around him and feeling his throat tighten at the slight tremor he could feel in Tyrus’s body. 

“That’s alright,” he assured carefully, biting back his usual indignation at useless apologies. Now wasn’t the time to chide Tyrus; it was the time to do everything in his power to make this a neutral or even good experience, if that was possible. “It’s just, the first and only time we did something like this you seemed . . . very hurt, afterwards. Do you remember?” he asked, though it was highly unlikely Cazador would make Tyrus forget anything about initiation. “I even very uncharacteristically agreed to stay a while after, I felt so terrible leaving you in that state. And that was before the—the whipping, the party, and Cazador.”

Tyrus winced against him, even as he mumbled, “I’ll be fine,” into the crook of Astarion’s neck.

But Tyrus was trembling even harder at the reminder, and Astarion refused to simply weather through this, to just try and minimize damage like he had the first time. It hadn’t destroyed them before, but that was likely because nothing had been built yet to destroy. If they just numbed themselves and behaved like rote, obedient animals now, he had a feeling Tyrus wouldn’t be able to enjoy intimacy together ever again. Maybe, neither would he.

So Astarion let out a scoff and pulled from the hug to grab one of Tyrus’s hands, nodding down at how Tyrus’s fingers shook. “Will you?” he pushed back.

Tyrus didn’t answer right away, Astarion was happy to see. The drow’s pale brow furrowed while his eyes began flicking about. Calculating, if Astarion had to guess, in a quick, intelligent, self-aware manner that reminded Astarion of one reason why he was so deeply fond of the man.

The fear was slowly replaced by a small but firm resolve in his expression, before Tyrus asked, “Could you hold me, after?”

And there exemplified yet another reason. 

While the warmth in Astarion’s chest was just as terrifying as it was wonderful and precious and rare, what could he do but lean into it and promise, “After? After you can have whatever you’d like, my love.”

By now, he knew better than to think Tyrus would want the act reciprocated, even if Astarion would happily even their score that way. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to give Tyrus what he truly needed, if the arcane text was correct in saying Polymorph was not a self-casted spell only.

Once they were on the bed—Astarion purposefully on his back to impose the least amount of control, Tyrus kneeling with hesitant movements between his spread legs—Astarion wistfully thought of how he’d imagined their first array into consensual, sexual pleasure. They’d just start out kissing, like they used to when he snuck down to visit in the spawn dormitory, until Tyrus instinctively started grinding against him. Then Astarion would sneak a hand into his trousers, kiss his neck and ears until Tyrus was a whimpering mess again, except this time take him in hand . . .  

It didn’t matter. Instead, no instincts would be allowed save the one to protect, Astarion sternly reminded himself.

But then Tyrus leaned down and just kissed him for a while. And oh, how dearly Astarion had missed every second of this. It wasn’t a mechanical, precise act to satisfy his prey; it wasn’t a loathsome, dominating assault from Cazador. It wasn’t even a performance to please their unwanted audience—Astarion doubted Cazador was enjoying this part. It was simply something soft and warm and blooming between them, growing in passion with slow but reciprocated care. 

Astarion didn’t think twice about it, when he felt Tyrus pulling his shirt loose from his trousers, stroking the skin of his belly under it with soft fingertips. Just felt a swift punch of arousal, once Tyrus broke away to lean down and trail kisses there with his even softer lips instead. By the time Tyrus’s hand trailed lower, Astarion could already feel his cock hardening. And with just a few strokes of Tyrus’s hand over the fabric, it was starting to strain against his trousers.

Once Tyrus had unbuttoned them he hesitated, however. His eyes began to wander about the room, body tensing—remembering, as Astarion suddenly was too, now, who exactly his performance needed to please.

But Cazador apparently hadn’t given them any sort of timetable, and Astarion prided himself in being a seasoned expert at finding loopholes in the bastard’s commands.

“Tyrus,” Astarion murmured, “come back up here,” smiling at him as Tyrus gusted out a sigh and gratefully crawled up his body again. Then Astarion eagerly went back to showering the drow in kisses, on his lips and down his neck while Astarion removed the last barrier of clothing between them and what unfortunately needed to happen next.

Only on Tyrus’s timetable, however. Astarion would be happy to kiss forever—until Cazador gave up his hiding spot, banged down their door, and made them suffer the consequences, even. Rather that, than prod and persuade and gently pressure Tyrus into it for the sake of minimal pain, like Astarion had their first time. He loved . . . he cared for Tyrus much too deeply now for that. 

Where Astarion’s self-preserving nature had run off to, he didn’t know—which only seemed to prove Cazador’s point about things like love only making a person weak. 

But maybe, just maybe, whatever would replace it could be just as strong.

Astarion wasn’t to find out that day—for, a couple minutes later, Tyrus did pull away of his own accord again. And every touch of his hands and his mouth that followed was a painful reminder to Astarion that he hadn’t lost enjoyment of sex. He simply couldn’t call any of what he’d done in the last eight decades something close to it.

Tyrus went slow, of course, some touches starting hesitant, but he didn’t look to be retreating into the back of his mind or reliving some terrible memory, at least. Especially when trying to fit more of Astarion in his mouth, he didn’t seem very at ease—and if this was just the two of them, Astarion would have told him to not bother with more than the head if he didn’t want to. Given everything, he simply kept an eye on Tyrus and made sure to hold his hips perfectly still as the drow set his own pace.

But once a rhythm picked up, Astarion admittedly couldn’t pay attention to the subtle indications of how Tyrus was doing when the mere sight of him taking Astarion in deeper was enough to wash Astarion’s senses in sharp, full-body pleasure. And beyond the sight, the feel of his wet, warm mouth, the tight circle of his lips, and the steady strokes of his hand around the base of Astarion’s cock—it was enough to pull thoughtless, brazen words of affection from Astarion’s lips as he smoothed away the other elf’s silky hair from his face and rode the building waves of pleasure.

Astarion was fairly certain he attempted to warn Tyrus when he was close, but to no avail. Tyrus only seemed to take him in deeper, more determinedly, all at once until the pleasure reached a tipping point and suddenly flooded through Astarion’s entire body. He didn’t think much after that as he groaned through the consuming, bright pleasure of it, vaguely aware of Tyrus dutifully swallowing and continuing to gently stroke with his mouth and hand as Astarion shuddered through a slow, glowing comedown.

Eventually the sensations carried over into over-sensitivity, not prolonged pleasure, not that Astarion had the presence of mind to explain that to Tyrus. He only reached down and nudged at the man’s shoulder, sighing in relief as the stimulation stopped.

That sigh caught in his throat, when Astarion heard Tyrus suddenly speak in a hoarse, deadened tone, informing him: “This was a gift from your master.”

Then the afterglow sputtered out as quick as water over a flame.

Tyrus had put a hand over his own mouth, his eyes wide as silver platters before squeezing shut the next moment in clear shame. But Astarion didn’t need to see such a reaction, to know exactly who sent the message.

Every good, temporary enjoyment he’d felt during the act just made him angry now. But of course, Cazador wanted them to be intimate on his terms. But of course, he couldn’t just allow Tyrus to do this to Astarion instead without having the last word. And of course, he had to remind Astarion in yet another visceral way, that he’d poisoned this tree from its very roots.

Yet somehow, Astarion kept hoping the fruits of their relationship wouldn’t ruin them both? Cazador was somewhere laughing at Astarion for his own stupidity, right now.

Somehow, he did still hope, Astarion realized whilst quickly redressing and running to fetch something he could wrap around Tyrus’s trembling shoulders. Somewhere along the way, it had become second nature to fight for something he could only hope for, to always put someone else before himself—even to learn a bit of magic, after all these years.

As Astarion tried to cast Prestidigitation on the blanket in his hands, a small voice in his head whispered, What else could you call that, but love?

[chobblesomewrites]

Grumbo Professional Esports AU (abandoned work)

A collection of drabbles/scenes rearranged in chronological order featuring Team Coach Mumbo x Pro Player Grian. Warning; makes use of League of Legends/MOBA Mechanics. Unrealistic depiction of the esports scene.

No, this will not be fully written or edited. Prepare for weird pacing and incoherence. I'M JUST POSTING THIS SO I CAN STOP BEING ASKED ABOUT IT </3

—————

[ READ BELOW ]

Mumbo wasn't one for competitive games, but he had made exceptions from time to time. Those times mostly due to his online best friend wanting to drag him to experience almost anything and everything with him.

He wouldn't have even dreamed of touching MOBA games if it weren't for Grian begging him to, excusing that no one else but Mumbo was actually willing to deal with his competitive nature. He had first refused, firmly wanting to stick to his farming simulator games, but Grian knew too well how to act like a brat to get what he wanted.

So he found himself on [                ]’s tutorial screen, anxiously going through it while Grian remained in the Discord call with him, giggling at every noise he made every time he jumped from the sight of an enemy NPC.

“You lied when you said this game had a farming mechanic,” Mumbo accused his friend with a whine as he spam clicked on a highlighted enemy minion, clicking his tongue when he missed the gold.

Grian cackled, “Well, killing minions for gold is called farming. So technically I wasn't lying?”

Mumbo let out an audible huff of betrayal, which made Grian laugh even more as he tried killing his character to the minions out of spite.

—

Mumbo had thought he wouldn't be playing the game as often, for the main reason he had the game at all was because Grian occasionally didn't have anyone to play with, as he said. But he had plenty of friends so Mumbo didn't feel the need to open the game as he would probably be the last person on Grian's friendlist to be asked.

But dear lord was he wrong.

After getting bullied for his lack of game knowledge for one night, Grian kept inviting him to duo queue every single day. Mumbo would've been led to believe that Grian actually didn't have friends except for him if it weren't for their friends occasionally coming by to 5 man queue with them. But even then, that led Mumbo questioning even more of Grian's motives to specifically invite him of all people, adding to the fact that Grian apparently hated playing ADC but specifically only played it when in duo queue with Mumbo.

It was confusing. So, so confusing. Mumbo was so pants at the game yet Grian just kept inviting him nonetheless!

So, Mumbo thought; if Grian wanted to play with him that badly, he'd have to adjust his mentality to make sure that his best friend was actually having fun. He wasn't just here to keep Grian company anymore, he was here to now help Grian actually enjoy his games.

On weekday nights Grian would be too busy to get online, Mumbo used his free time to get on custom and try out other heroes outside of just support. He specifically tried mid laners in hopes to give Grian more opportunities to play roles outside of ADC, trying to prove that Mumbo was more than capable of handling himself!

He learned the map, how to invade, how to dodge, how to properly farm– everything. He needed to learn everything.

If it was for Grian, he'll take on everything.

–

[ DEFEAT ]

“....”

The call was silent, save for Grian who did horribly to muffle his laughter. Mumbo groaned in embarrassment into his hands, “Midlaning is hard,” he admitted in a mumble, which caused Grian to outright laugh into his mic.

“You didn't have to force yourself to try.”

“But you like playing jungle.” Mumbo pouted.

“Not all the time! Who on earth even says they like playing jungle?”

Mumbo sighed as he clicked off the after-game stats, returning back to their party lobby to see Grian already waiting to start the queue. The man already set himself back to the ADC role and it made Mumbo slump even more in guilt over his desk.

By some magical force, Grian probably felt his bad mood and he reassured with a smile, “I still think it's more fun if we're laning together.”

“You get to spoil me and you'd only have eyes for me!” Grian teased.

Mumbo felt himself flush red at that. Not knowing how to quip back, he simply said, “Shut up.”

–

5 man queues are always fun. It means Mumbo could just turn off his brain and listen to his friends talk and trash talk without having to say much because there's enough of them to hold the conversation together.

Mumbo was about to fully zone out while watching Grian’s character farm freely in their lane when he heard him speak up about something in their team's idle conversation on call.

“You know, I actually plan to be a professional gamer.”

From whatever conversation the call was going through, everyone in their friend group broke into laughter at Grian's admittance. Mumbo could hear Grian's pout as he tried to defend his dream, “I'm serious here!”

Their friends laughed even more, “How plausible would that even be as a job? We're just teenagers, dude. Who would wanna sign kids like us?”

Their words were obviously just trying to tease Grian, but Grian didn't take it lightly. The ADC went quiet as the friends in call continued on about how ridiculous of a scene it would be if anyone of them were to actually turn out to be 

Out of nowhere, Mumbo suddenly spoke up, “I think it's not impossible.”

The conversation paused and Mumbo suddenly felt conscious of the attention on his words. Nonetheless, he continued on, “I believe in you, if you are still going to try.”

“I'll try it with you.”

The call bursted into laughter again, even Grian couldn't help but giggle, which made Mumbo feel hot in the face from embarrassment. He spent the rest of the game making so many mistakes because the entire call kept teasing him for making such bold declarations.

He was able to live through 2 games of that until the other 3 friends in their team decided to log off, leaving him with Grian. Mumbo had thought that he would log off too, but he simply clicked the queue button without saying anything, leaving 

2 minutes into the queue, Grian finally spoke up, “I'm holding you up to that promise, you know.”

“You better go professional with me.”

Mumbo wonders if he's gonna regret promising that, given how ominous Grian makes it sound as if he's sold his soul to the devil. But if the devil were Grian, he finds that he doesn't really mind missing a part of himself.

–

Ever since that promise, Grian had been relentless with playing with Mumbo. Not that he wasn't always relentless before, but Grian was now determined to actually help Mumbo catch up to his level. They've even started custom 1v1s in hopes to improve.

Other people, if they were in Mumbo's position, would've been annoyed. Given how Grian tends to get frustrated eventually, Mumbo just takes it as a sign to be better. He couldn't slack.

He knew that Grian wasn't specifically frustrated at his skills, he was frustrated and anxious of the possibility that Mumbo wouldn't be able to sign with him if he didn't improve. They needed to do it together, Grian was stubborn to make sure of that fact.

So Mumbo didn't fault him for he loved him.

–

“Are you signed to a team?”

An account that was obviously a smurf had privately messaged him one time after a solo queue game Mumbo played while waiting for Grian. He ignored it, assuming that it was a scammer pretending to be a professional. He even went to quickly unfriend the account with this thought in mind and sat in the party lobby for a few minutes before a friend request came in.

“Xvoid,” Mumbo murmured out. He frowned and leaned back on his chair in thought, wondering if he's seen that username before. Probably in his other games, but Mumbo doesn't really actively pay attention to the randoms he and Grian match up with.

It was when he was about to decline the friend request that Grian joined the lobby with a very loud, “Mumbo Dumbo Bumbo Jumbo!”

“Grian,” Mumbo returned the sentiment, sounding more exasperated than excited like Grian. His friend must've realized something from that tone difference as he immediately questioned, “What's up?”

“Someone messaged me about signing to a team and now I'm trying to remember who this XVoid person is.”

Grian made a noise of surprise, “XVoid? Xisuma?”

“Who?”

“The Captain of [            ]! I thought we watched enough live streams together to know this?”

“... Grian, I only know Etho in that team!”

Grian made a noise of offense and went off on a tangent about each and every member of the team that was not Etho, scolding Mumbo for being a ‘solo fan’. Mumbo ignored him, hovering his mouse over Xisuma's friend request.

If it is the captain of that team, Mumbo can only assume that this was probably just a fan account. It didn't hurt to accept it. He's had a lot of friends in his friend list that he decidedly ignored a lot anyway. He just accepts them for the sake of filling that friend list.

With that over with, Mumbo started the queue, still ignoring Grian who was scolding his ear off.

–

Mumbo should've known there was going to be more to the friend request than he realized. What he assumed was a fan account was actually just the professional player's sub account.

Xisuma's team had taken notice of Mumbo, and even personally invited him to be their main team's support rather than simply being a substitute. Mumbo was about to disagree at first, discussing with Grian that he still wanted to play professionally with him, but Grian didn't stall him. He simply said;

"Go," and Mumbo had thought Grian hated him for being noticed by a team until he added, "I'll catch up."

And they left it at that. Mumbo signed with Xisuma's team as their support player but didn't even get to react properly that his online best friend didn't message him at all anymore as he was forced to move to a team provided account, leaving his personal one to the dust.

–

Mumbo's esports career didn't last longer than four years, but it was a good start for a while. He didn't have any experience whatsoever but his team was kind enough to help him throughout. He also found that a lot of people seem to like his awkward attitude so he didn't feel the need to upkeep a certain persona.

But with the constant change of meta to aggressive supports, his steady gameplay had no use in any team comps. It didn't help that, at every tournament, he got sadder and sadder the more he realized he couldn't see a certain username anywhere in both domestic and international teams even after a while. 

Grian wasn't there. The reason he was here at all, wasn't there. 

He had been moved to a substitute player midway through his career, replaced with someone more younger and aggressive in playstyle, his other teammates had also either retired or moved to better teams. The team’s management was still fond of him and he was only really kept for the fans' sentiments, but Xisuma didn't want him to live the rest of his life as a decoration, noticing the way Mumbo didn't enjoy his current status. The team they were in contract with wasn't getting any better either. They weren't going anywhere like this. Their skills could be put to more use somewhere. 

They couldn't accept the current state of things when they hadn't even won a single international championship to their name. Xisuma owed Mumbo at least a trophy for signing him up for the big leagues at such a young age that he could've used the time to explore more of his life.

He had offered Mumbo two things; Xisuma would pay so he could go back to college, or he could sign to Xisuma's budding esports company for a new chance.

As a coach, that is.

Mumbo had almost been tempted to say he would rather go back to studying, but Xisuma added more to his offer that he couldn't refuse; "You can choose the team. You'll be their main coach, after all."

Mumbo remembered that someone still promised to catch up, and he'd be willing to be a coach if it meant dragging him up here.

He promised. They promised they'd go together.

For the first time in a few years, Mumbo logged back in to his old account and clicked on a familiar user on his friend list.

"Grian,"

"You there?"

–

Mumbo wasn't confident for a while that Grian would reply back. It had been a good long while, after all. Would Grian even remember him? Mumbo's sure he himself hasn't forgotten the other, but he doesn't know if the sentiments are the same. 

Mumbo didn't really have the time to be too anxious about it either, busy helping Xisuma with properly setting up the company while also looking for managers and analysts to help him with forming the team.

The next time he finally checked his account again, he was disappointed when there was no message back. But one thing that gave him hope was when Grian’s user was lit up. He was online. And Mumbo could see damn well that his best friend, if he could still call him that, was actually just struggling to come up with a reply, especially when the indication of the other person typing kept popping up and disappearing over and over.

At least, with that, Mumbo knows that he wasn't fully ignored.

After a bit of waiting, he decided to give mercy to whatever message Grian is taking this long to send.

"Queue?"

And then the indication of Grian typing stopped. Then replying,

"You literally returned from war after how many and your first message is to ask to queue?? Not even gonna say hi to the kids?"

Mumbo burst out laughing. Somehow, it feels as if he never left for the professional scene and is back to his teenage self.

"How are you?"

"Got wife and kids."

Mumbo frowned at that, "Seriously?"

"No, you idiot. I'm this young and you think I'd have a kid already?"

"..." Mumbo rolled his eyes

"So what have you been doing this entire time?” I waited for you to catch up. Did you lie to me?

“Well one of us had to go to college, Mumbo.”

“Low Blow.”

“My bad.” Grian then typed, “Queue?”

“So now you’re trying to distract me by asking to play?”

“It's also been a while. I'm itchin’.”

Mumbo checked the time. He's fairly free for the rest of the day. And it's been a while since he's had genuine fun in the game, “Well, we ‘oughta scratch it!”

“Attaboy!”

–

They queue together for a while. Mumbo's old account had considerably ranked down so they were in lower elos. It wasn't that hard to win easily.

Grian was still good at the game, probably even better. He could catch up with Mumbo’s thinking, and Mumbo’s got the professional experience. One thing that bothered him was that Grian didn’t initiate a call like they always did years ago. Comms and all. Mumbo was left with Grian’s spam pinging and visual cues. Mumbo was too shy to ask about it, so he forced himself to be happy enough with Grian playing around with the emotes when they were idle in lane.

But surprisingly, when Mumbo thought they were about to log out, Grian told him to get in-game party call;

“Mumbo.” Oh, Mumbo has not heard that voice in a long time. Grian sounds less like a squeaker now. The long duration of having not spoken to each other was now extremely evident.

Mumbo forgot to greet back, and he didn’t get a chance to, as Grian spoke up again, “Why exactly did you message me again? Surely it's not to play, not when we could've done this for the past years.”

Mumbo didn’t know what to say for a moment. Would it be too rude to ask Grian about his previous interest in esports? Would that seem like he’s trying to flaunt at him or mock him?

His mouth twitched in hesitation, “Are you… still interested in going professional?”

“...” Grian didn’t reply, and Mumbo somehow felt even more desperate.

“You said you’d catch up.”

“I…” Grian sighed into the mic, seeming a little agitated, “Opportunities don't come as easily for me as it did for you, Mumbo.”

Mumbo furrowed his eyebrows, staring at Grian's little cat icon in disbelief, “...And so you gave up, just like that?”

“It wasn't just like that!” Grian defended. He sounded a little pissed off that Mumbo couldn't help but go quiet. At the silence, Pesky muttered an apology and calmed his tone, “Look, I- I really tried, alright? It was pressuring.”

Mumbo opened his mouth to ask what exactly pressured him but Grian beat him to it as he rambled on, “I lost my everyday duo to some team I couldn't even enter myself. Mum kept urging me to give up and go to college, but–” the voice on the other end cracked slightly but he took a long enough pause to steady himself, “I didn't want to- You, you were waiting, up on those big stages, looking around those stadiums like some lost little dog abandoned by their owner–”

“I was not some lost little dog!” Mumbo squeaked out in embarrassment, wondering if he really looked like that in the game livestreams, “How would you even know I was looking for you?!”

Grian’s smug smile could be heard in his tone, “I didn't say you were looking for me.”

Mumbo went quiet and murmured whinily, “You implied….”

The call was filled with Grian's giggling and Mumbo let himself enjoy the embarrassment for a brief moment before moving the topic along, “Anyway, I did say I was going to disagree to join them, but you urged me to accept it. I said I could've waited until we could sign together–”

“But you like the game, don't you, Mumbo?”

Caught quite off-guard, Mumbo gave his question a thought. He did like the game. Understanding the mechanics and strategy of it is fun. Winning a game was actually exciting since the winning conditions needed good skill and awareness to achieve, but… 

He only ever truly loved playing it because Grian was there. His best friend was a part of everything he loved about the game.

Mumbo was quiet and he couldn't find it in himself to actually admit his true opinions. Grian assumed that he was just embarrassed to admit that he liked the game and decided to move on, “So it was unfair to you. I couldn't drag you down. I know we promised to do it together, but that doesn't have to cost your possible futures.”

Mumbo chewed on his lip and once again quietly asked, “But are you still interested in playing?”

“Mumbo, I never stopped playing despite,” Grian said. An indirect message admitting that; he wants to play. He's always wanted to play. He never once gave up on the dream to. He's just a little late. “I wouldn't have queued with you today if I wasn't.”

Mumbo was hopeful at that admittance and he was quick to say, “Then play for me.”

“What?”

It was Grian's turn to be caught off-guard this time, sputtering in confusion and in disbelief. Mumbo could hear him sit straight on his chair, judging by the squeaking picked up by his mic, “No, that's- You shouldn't be practicing nepotism, Mumbo-”

Mumbo made a noise caught between a whine and a groan, “It's not nepotism if it's the coach's job to assemble a team of good players,” he defended. Grian was in even more disbelief this time as he caught on as to what Mumbo was getting at.

“Coach? What happened to your original team–? They still had you as a substitute…”

“Capt– X paid for the separation fee.”

Grian’s voice raised a little, “Then who and what the hell are you coaching for?”

Mumbo took a deep breath, needing to steady himself to be able to explain to Grian the situation without making it worse, “Look, I know you said you specifically wanted to play for a well-known team and, currently, X's company is just fairly knew–”

“Oh my god…” Grian muttered, his voice was muffled like he was burying his face in his hands. Mumbo ignored him as he continued to explain.

“He invited me to be the main coach, to set up the team to how I see fit since he had trust in the way I was at least aware of what was right, who was capable– Well, not to be blunt, but I have the skills to be able to strategize for an entire time and–”

Grian cut his ramble off, “You… you didn't do all this just for me, did you?”

Yes, I did. 

But, “No,” was what Mumbo said instead. “I still like the game, but I'm still not overly aggressive and competitive enough to be successful as a player, as you know.”

Silence that befell the call after that and it worried Mumbo as he didn't know if Grian could trust that reason. He was just about to continue his little persuasion when he was cut off again.

“I'm joining.”

“Before you– Wait, you are?!”

“Well, someone's gotta make sure you're not making wrong decisions! Who do you think taught you the game?! And you're planning to be the coach!?”

Mumbo couldn't even be sheepish at the underlying tone of being scolded. He was happy enough to hear Grian agree to joining even when doubt was evident in the other’s tone.

He’ll just have to show he’s capable of being Grian’s support, like always.

–

“Grian!” Mumbo had called out excitedly, approaching the man who held such a name. Maybe he was jogging more than politely approaching. Who was to blame him for being excited by the idea of finally meeting his long time online best friend face to face?

Grian’s shoulders jumped in surprise and he couldn't help but turn to look, looking even more stunned as he wasn't given time to react to the sudden hug Mumbo forced him into. His arms couldn’t find where to place itself, eventually relaxing on Mumbo’s back as he hugged back with equal eagerness.

The shorter man couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re surprisingly taller in real life, coach!”

Mumbo froze and pulled away to look at him weirdly, “Already calling me coach?”

“What? Were you actually not planning to sign me?”

Coach Mumbo winced and shook his head panickedly, “Goodness, of course we’re still planning to sign you, it’s just–” he hunched over and pouted a bit, “Isn’t coach a little too formal for us?”

Grian nudged Mumbo playfully, “Get used to it. You wanted this job. Didn’t you, coach?”

Mumbo pouted even more, slightly red in the face, “You don’t find me calling you jungler, do you?”

“I’m not signed yet so you can’t officially call me that yet,” the dirty blonde man then grinned wide, “For now, you can refer to me as darling.”

“Oh, stop it.”

–

Officially signing Grian up as the company’s first player was like a fever dream, even Grian himself would agree, and he’s had plenty of disbelieving things happening to himself. Even now when he was fully acquainted and settled into the residence provided by the team, he couldn’t believe that he was actually… what he dreamed of.

Grian glanced to his side, watching his coach scroll through some gameplay videos for possible teammates. Somehow, it felt right that the online best friend who nerds out about strategies that he can’t apply himself, was the tall man beside him.

Though honestly, Grian still expected Mumbo to be some hunched over nerd like he was. Who knew the man had not only looks and height, he had better posture than Grian.

The dirty blonde slumped in his chair and zoned out as Mumbo started introducing possible teammates, offering him options to form whatever team he wanted.

Grian didn’t listen much, still a little out of it. It is fairly weird that the coach of all people was asking the player who he wanted as teammates when it was supposed to be mainly the coach’s and the management’s job.

“Can I really pick the rest of my teammates?” He cut off Mumbo’s muttering in a familiar manner. Mumbo, as always, didn’t take offense and answered him.

“Of course.”

“And you’d support me?”

They held each other's stare longer than they should've. Mumbo broke into a smile.

“As I always have.”

–

“You’re stressing out Pearl again.”

Grian was half laying on his chair and lazily scrolling through the Grumbo tag on social media when Mumbo had come up to him with an unamused frown. Grian had half the respect for his coach to fix his seating arrangement and sat up properly to flash an innocent smile at Mumbo.

“I don’t seem to follow.”

Mumbo tugged at his hair in distress, familiar with Grian’s pretend dumb strategy. As a coach, you’d think that understanding strategies would be kept to the game, not applied even to his troublesome players.

“Sorry, let me rephrase then. You’re giving both Pearl and the PR team an extremely hard time to defend your honor.”

Grian sighs wistfully, “But you are my honor.”

Mumbo groaned and flushed red at that, “You’ve made that extremely clear with your interview!”

The dirty blonde shrugged and didn’t seem at all unapologetic. Seeing that he was once again going nowhere with attempting to horribly scold Grian, he leaned down and apologetically pecked the man on the forehead. Grian visibly perked up at that and blinked at Mumbo like he was expecting more.

Mumbo didn’t give him more, simply rolled his eyes and turned to leave, “Redo the interview tomorrow and you can negotiate for more.”

“MUUUUUUUUUUMBOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Grian’s complaints fell to no one’s ears as Mumbo left the training room.

[i-messed-up-big-time]

Baby Me

Sylus x fem!Reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood (reader is on their period), explicit content, MDNI

tags: fluff, smut

word count: 1389 (I know, very short)

a/n: back with another drabble! This time I'm going to attempt to write in third person the entire time. Please bear with me I just a girl 😭 also, i tried to make this pure fluff but the demons in my head told me to make it spicy (this is my first time ever writing smth with some smut so pls forgive me if it sounds unnatural/weird)

･゜ﾟ･:.｡..｡.:･'(ﾟ▽ﾟ)'･:.｡. .｡.:･゜ﾟ･

Y/N was in the middle of a heated battle with the blankets when that all too familiar pain hit.

Ugh please no. I thought it wasn't due until next week. She thought to herself as the cramps kicked in.

Groaning she rolls over trying to get out of bed, totally forgetting about that battle with the blankets that got her tangled up with the sheets.

THUD

Y/N fell off the bed, very ungracefully. Rubbing the sore spot on her head.

"Could this day get any better?!" It was as if the heavens were mocking her, she got up and saw the big splotch of red staining the sheets.

Tears started to well up in her eyes as the mood swings kicked in, but before she had the chance to start crying the door to the bedroom opened.

"Everything all right kitten?" The scene before him was a sight to behold, there stood Y/N wrapped in a blanket almost in tears.

He couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips. Unfortunately, that sent you over the edge and the tears started to fall.

Taken aback by your sudden crying, Sylus moves forward to embrace you. From the side of his eye he notices the blood stained sheets, he signals Mephisto to go out on a mission.

Taking you into his arms, he carries you to the bathroom and gently sets you down on the counter. He grabs ahold of your face and wipes your tears, placing a light kiss on your lips.

"I'm sorry kitten, I didn't mean to make you upset." He said in a low voice. Pouting, you wrap your arms around him and lay your head on his chest. Silently accepting his apology even though it wasn't that big of a deal.

Sylus runs his fingers through your hair, the feeling bringing you comfort, the moment being ruined by those damned cramps.

Groaning you fist his shirt in your hands trying to find a position that hurts less. Sylus gently pushes you back to attempt to go and start the bath but you refuse to let him go.

"Can't you just stay here and hold me." You look up at him with pleading eyes, he lets out a slight chuckle before gathering you in his arms again.

"Let me run you a bath kitten, I'm all yours today." You cling to him like a koala, relaxing in his arms as he swiftly maneuvers through the bathroom to get the bath going.

He sets you down at the edge of the tub, and starts removing your clothes before settling you into the warm water. He then removes his own clothes and joins you in the bath, settling in behind you.

Sylus is gentle with his touch, taking his time getting you cleaned up. His fingers massage your scalp as he lathers up your hair with that shampoo he likes.

Leaning back into him you let out a hum of satisfaction, the warm water helping in minimizing the pain in your abdomen.

Once he's done getting the both of you clean, he lifts you out of the tub and dries you off before drying himself off. As you change into your PJs, Sylus is draining the tub and placing the dirty clothes into the laundry basket.

Guiding you back to bed, he pulls the sheets back and helps you into bed before climbing in himself. He wraps his arms around you and places his hands on your abdomen, massaging it to help ease the dull ache of pain.

Your breathing starts to slow as you feel your body relax, the tension and pain leaving. Sylus' warm embrace making you feel safe and secure.

You turn around in his embrace and place your hands on his chest. Looking up at his face, you noticed that his eyes are closed.

"Why don't you take a picture if you're going to keep staring?" He spoke without even opening his eyes. You let out a small laugh before reaching up and placing a kiss on his cheek.

His eyes snap open, a mischievous look in them. He wraps his arms tighter, pulling you flush against him and he takes your lips into a soft kiss.

His hands start roaming up and down your back before slipping underneath your shirt. You let out a soft groan, the action giving Sylus the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He pulls away after a bit and cages you under him, one arm holding him up while the other rests on your waist.

He captures your lips in another kiss, this one filled with more desire than the first. You bring your hands up to his hair, tangling your fingers in them and pulling on it.

Sylus lets out a deep groan pulling back from the kiss.

"You're playing a dangerous game kitten." He leans back down to your neck, placing kisses before he bites down.

You let out a moan, your hands moving down to grip his shirt. You pull on it to signal him to take it off. He complies and takes it off in one swift movement.

You eye him down, trailing your hands up and down his chest. You look up at him and notice his eyes watching your every move.

You take this opportunity to push him onto his back before climbing on top, straddling his waist. You slowly take off your top to tease him.

"I'm not that patient of a man kitten." Sylus groans out from under you. Leaning forward you place kisses on his jaw before trailing down near the waistband oh his pants.

You can see his erection, dying to be let free. You place a soft kiss on his dick through the pants, hearing him hiss above you had you feeling hot and bothered.

You start sucking him through his pants, feeling him get harder and more frustrated as time passed. It wasn't long before he grabbed your hair and made you look up at him from your position between his legs.

"Enough teasing kitten, you don't want to switch positions now do you? He threatened, you quickly complied because it's not everyday you get to pleasure Sylus.

Pulling down his pants, you take a moment to admire his length and the precum leaking out the tip. You swipe your tongue across the tip savouring his taste.

You slowly take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his length. Sylus tangles his fingers in your hair, forcing himself to not fuck your mouth right then and there, he wanted to savour the feeling of your lips on him.

"Just like that, take it all." You weren't even halfway down his length before feeling his tip poke the back of your throat, trying to relax your throat you took him in deeper. Tears formed at the corner of your eyes as you struggled to breathe a bit.

"Good girl." Sylus praised you, the simple praise caused an insatiable heat to pool in your belly. Moaning, you picked up the pace. Bobbing your head up and down while your hands worked to pump the rest of him that wouldn't fit in your mouth.

His fingers tightened their hold on your hair, thrusting his hips up slightly to meet your pace.

"Make sure you take it all kitten." He growled, feeling himself get closer to release. You took him in nice and deep, sucking harder than before pushing him closer to the edge. Your hands moved lower to massage his balls before he let out a loud moan and released himself straight down your throat causing you to choke a bit.

He pulled himself out of your mouth, pulling you up onto his lap. He grabbed a few tissues from the bedside table and wiped your mouth before giving you a glass of water.

"You did so well kitten." He whispered, stroking your hair as he pulled you closer to his chest. Leaning back he adjusted himself and pulled the covers over you both.

You snuggled into his chest, your throat a little too tired to form any words, but you and Sylus didn't need to speak to understand what you wanted to say.

He wrapped his arm around your waist while the other rubbed up and down your back lovingly, lulling you into a deep sleep.

[leopardmask-ao3]

Day 25 - Impulse

Drabble for @hermitadaymay

Wither skeleton! 

Impulse's sensitive nose instantly picked up the scent that his piglin blood instinctively knew, even outside its context. He bared what small amount of tusk he had and spun, ready to attack-

-Skizz??

Skizz looked sheepish, marred hands raised in a gesture of peace. Impulse just stared. Alarms screeched in his head, warning frantically of danger, danger, but it was just Skizz, a changed Skizz, but just Skizz.

“I-I’m sorry, buddy,” Skizz tried. “I know, I know, it sucks and I’m sorry...”

Impulse took a deep breath. “It’s... fine. I’ll get used to it. What... what happened, anyway??”

[good-beanswrites]

An 0309 drabble for an anon ask I got a bit ago :) Thank you for being patient, I really enjoyed writing this!! It's actually a little moment I've wanted to write since I started Milgram fic, but never got around to it. (I mention his injured eye, but don't actually describe anything)

“Stop moving around so much.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I mean it. You’ll make things worse.”

Mikoto watched as the intensity in Fuuta’s gaze flickered between fire and fear.

He had a doctor’s kit laid out on his lap. Recently, Shidou had his hands full with Mahiru’s treatments and having intense conversations with Haruka, so Mikoto wanted to give him a break. With none of the injuries actually healing as they should, the prisoners were caught in an endless loop of changing bandages and checking for complications.

Shidou was grateful for the help. Many of the others tolerated Fuuta in the same way they spent only the necessary time around Mikoto. They smiled and placated him, acting like he’d gone mad all of the sudden. Whatever was making the others avoid the two of them, it drew the pair together. Mikoto was finding he enjoyed Fuuta’s company. Something about him was rather… charming. 

“Me? You’re the asshole that will make things worse. You’re no doctor! Fuck you.”

Eh, maybe he had gone mad. 

He took comfort, at least, in the knowledge that Fuuta was growing more comfortable with him. He sure had a special way of showing it, but Mikoto didn’t brag about being a people-person for nothing – he picked up on the way Fuuta sought him out during the day, pretending to be involved in his own activities. The way he struck up a conversation, then acted as if it had been Mikoto’s idea to come over and bother him. 

Therefore it was exciting, though not surprising, when Fuuta allowed Mikoto to help treat his injuries. They had only done it a few times, but today brought a whole new challenge. 

“I’m not performing surgery or anything. Shidou said it just needs some basic disinfecting.” He flashed his usual grin. “I have a steady hand – I’m a photographer, you know.”

Aside from Shidou, Fuuta hadn’t allowed a single person to look under his eyepatch. 

He remained unamused by Mikoto’s smile. For better or worse, he could always tell when it was forced. “It’s not like I have any proof of that. You could be awful at it, for all I know.”

“First chance I get, I’ll request a camera and prove it. Want me to take a picture of you first?”

“If you haven’t already messed up my face…” Fuuta’s focus was glued to the hand carefully reaching towards him. 

Mikoto pouted his lips. “Shidou trusted me enough with this. And you must have, because you agreed earlier. So If it’s not about me… You’re not scared, are you?”

There were some things that Fuuta didn’t stop to see through. He sputtered in surprise. “Hell no!” He lifted his chin, finally taking his attention off Mikoto’s hands. He stared defiantly. “I can take it.”

Mikoto felt a bit guilty for resorting to foul play. But not that guilty. “Good. Now hold still...”

He got right to it. One hand held ginger hair out of the way, while the other pinched the corner of the eyepatch. Fuuta’s good eye darted nervously around the room, avoiding the other's close-leaning face. Mikoto peeled it away swiftly, gently

As a horror movie buff, the injury didn’t faze him in the slightest. As someone who’d grown close to Fuuta recently, he felt a wave of anguish at the sight.

Fuuta squirmed. “It’s nasty, isn’t it…”

Mikoto reached down for some supplies. He considered mustering up a smile and saying there was no need to worry so much, but it would have been pointless. Times like these, it was kind of a relief when someone else could see right through him for a change. 

“It looks like it hurts.”

“Tch, I don’t need any pity from you.”

“I was going to say, you hide it well. You’re tougher than the warden gives you credit for.”

His cheeks flushed red. “I – I don’t need any flattery from you either!”

“Don’t need anything from anybody, huh?”

Before he could come up with a retort, he hissed through his teeth in pain.

“Ah, sorry.” Mikoto immediately retracted his hand from where it had been dabbing alcohol onto the injury.

Steeling his expression, he muttered, “it’s fine.”

Mikoto tried again. He made sure to move with even more steadiness, his face drawn up in concentration. He saw Fuuta’s features flinch when he touched him, but he stayed still. The two were silent, now, as Mikoto worked. Leaning his face so close made the short task feel much longer. The reddening in his cheeks didn't subside.

He expected Fuuta to snatch the fresh eyepatch away the moment he unwrapped it – he was shocked that Fuuta let him adjust it into place without a word.

“Alright. You’re all set.” He started packing up the kit.

“Listen, don’t tell the others. About my eye.”

Mikoto squinted. He gestured to the right side of his face. “I hate to break it to you, but the big patch kinda gives you away.”

“You idiot! I just mean, don’t tell them what it looks like.” He pulled his hood down over his hair. “I don’t need everyone trying to steal a look at it like I’m some sort of freakshow.”

“Hey, of course.” Mikoto gave him a smile, the kind they both knew was genuine. “I’ve got you.”

Fuuta nodded. He turned his face away, his fingers lingering over where Mikoto’s had just been. “... And… thanks.”

[triskhellion]

First & Last Lines / Writing Patterns

tagged by @dear-massacre 🖤 & @renmackree 💙!

Combining these since I'll be using the same posted fics for both because I tend to bounce around on my unpublished fics/chapters and am not sure of the order including those.

Rules:

Post the first and last lines of the last 10 fics you worked on. WIPs are allowed! / List the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Gingerly: 2k, Sterek, teen (complete)

First: Stiles began working on his magic over the summer, but didn’t tell anyone because he wanted to have something impressive, or at least reliable, to show when he was inevitably asked to demonstrate. Last: It seemed like he was going to show off his tattoos after all.

Anticipation (Chosen 5): drabble, Sterek, mature

First: He lifted a hand to his throbbing mark, unsteady from the new and intense sensations coursing through him. Last: Daunting.

Mine (Chosen 4): drabble, Sterek, teen

First: Derek stilled as his senses expanded and were overwhelmed all at once. Last: Mine.

Mouth Stuff: 1.7k, Sterek/pre-Steraac, teen (complete)

First: The scent of intense irritation wafted over to where Derek was reading in his favorite chair.  Last: And if he had an interesting dream about both of them that night, well, it was no one’s business but his. 

Acceptance (Chosen 3): drabble, Sterek, teen

First: “…Mieczysław.” Last: A hungry mouth trailed kisses over his marked skin before fangs clamped down.

Answer (Chosen 2): drabble, Sterek, teen

First: Derek listened to the rabbiting heart of his intended over the white noise of the heater. Last: "Yes." 

Chosen: (Chosen 1): drabble, Sterek, teen

First: Stiles could tell from the size of the bite on his neck that he was in trouble.  Last: “I think you know.”

15 Shades of Red: 20.8k, Sterek, explicit (WIP)

First: His cool, calm, and collected demeanor was at odds with the anxiety and anticipation roiling inside him.  Last: M — Stilinski — had just entered the room, his room, and he was incensed.

Legs: 4.3k, Sterek, explicit (complete)

First: “Thank fucking God,” Stiles muttered to himself as the key finally turned in the lock after jiggling the damn door until everything lined up just right.  Last: And no matter who came in first, he was going to win either way.

Hunter, Dragon, Wolf: 1k, Sterek, mature (complete)

First: Every decision — theirs and yours — has led to this.  Last: Entwined.

Consider yourself tagged if you want to join in!

[aisclosed]

wdym I have to have plot and y/n n jungwon can't just flirt n be cute with eachother :((((

[novella-november]

Novella November 2024 Announcement Post

Hate AI, but love writing challenges?

Want to take part in a global, fun project to write a Novella in one month?

Grab some friends, and take part in Novella November, by writing 1,000 words a day for the month of November, ending with a 30,000 word Novella to test and stretch your novel-writing skills!

Your goal is not perfection, but merely getting into the habit of writing a litte bit every single day :D

No website, no sign-ups -- Just a community initiative to write using only your own word!

What are the rules? Just Three so far!

#1 - No AI

#2 - No Plagiarizing

#3 - Wordcount for the month should only come from what you write during the month.

What does that mean?

Only words written during November should go towards your Wordcount for the month... but! Feel free to use your 30k words as a continuation of previous writing, or just make it the first 30k words in a longer novel!

Don't think you can write a whole entire 30k word story? Write a series of short stories that total up to 30k!

Not ready to write original works yet? Write a 30k word fanfiction that you can post after the month is over!

Share your writing experience, tips, encouragement, and questions in the #Novella November tag!

---

EDIT, from the tags: Want a progress tracker? Track your progress with TrackBear!

https://trackbear.app/

Don't have a word processor? Use LibreOffice , the free and open-source alternative to Microsoft Word!

Want to organize/storyboard your Novel and don't want to pay a subscription? Try 7writer by Simon Haynes!

Want to be able to listen to your story aloud for proofreading using TTS (text to speech)? Try Balabolka!

Or, create some custom progress / Goal Cards in advance you can fill out as you reach word goals! For ideas and templates, search this blog for "goal cards" :D

Want to do a writing challenge in more than just November? Check out my ideas here for year round challenges to keep you writing consistently! Got feedback? Send it in, I'd love to see everyone's ideas!

---

EDIT 2: I almost forgot to mention, if you are unable to write/type your story, you can also narrate/dictate your story to your preferred recording device!

If you're doing a Recording only and it doesn't automatically generate a transcript, it would obviously be hard to judge the word count -- but you're also working with a lot of obstacles, so I'd say if you're able to complete your story via voice recording from start to finish, you've definitely achieved the goal!

Edit #3: added the title "Novella November 2024 announcement post" to the top to make it more standard with my Ominous October and Drabble December posts (will be updating Outline October shortly) , added "Official Announcement Post 2024" to the tags so people can easily find the monthly events for 2024, and added a bit of bold to the third bullet point in the original post from September 2nd 2024 for emphasis.

[selfcarecap]

Practice [L.H]

pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.

warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting,  jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W

word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.

“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.

Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”

“Met him online.”

“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”

You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.

“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”

You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”

“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”

He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”

Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.

“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.

“Help you how?” He asks, smug.

It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.

“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”

“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.

“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”

Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”

You nod quickly, “For practice.”

“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.

A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.

Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.

“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?

“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.

“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”

“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.

“Oh,” you say.

“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.

Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”

“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.

He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.

You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”

“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head. 

Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides. 

You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.

With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.

“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.

Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.

You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.

“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.

“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.

“What now?” You ask. 

Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.

Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”

You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.

“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.

You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.

“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.

His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away. 

He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him. 

“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”

“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big. 

“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”

His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand. 

Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist. 

You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”

He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life. 

You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.

Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.

The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so. 

“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.

“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.

Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.

You’re wondering how much long–

“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.

You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.

Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.

He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.

Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. “What?” you ask.

“Spit.”

“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.

“Really?”

You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.

He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.

You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.

“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”

What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”

“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.

“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”

You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.

He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.

“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.

“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.

“Mhmm.”

He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.

Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close. 

You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly. 

“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself. 

He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck. 

You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders. 

Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue. 

It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.

Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.

He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.

With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.

“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”

You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”

Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”

You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.

Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.

“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.

Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”

You grin, “It was your plan.”

Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.

“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.

“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”

Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.

You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”

The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.

-

P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣

[gloomwitchwrites]

There was this tiktok trend where kids and their mums would pull a prank on their dads by telling their mums to shut up...141 with a teenage son who tries it?

Anon, I am very aware of this prank. If mom is in on it, I consider it all in good fun, but omg, these guys would be absolutely stressed if they heard their teenage son tell mom to "shut up." Heads would absolutely roll over that!

Price is certainly old enough to have a teenage son on the older side. I would even say the same for Ghost. Gaz is old enough for a younger teenage son. With Soap's age...that's stretching it. BUT SUSPEND DISBELIEF Y'ALL. I'm aging Gaz and Soap up a bit for this one.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Presented in two double drabbles and two triple drabbles.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader (w/ children)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, pranks, domestic, dad!141, brief suggestive themes, marriage

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Ugh. Shut up, Mum.”

There is a brief pause between mum and when the television remote hurtles across the room. Your son doesn’t duck in time, the hard plastic hitting his shoulder before bouncing onto the kitchen island with a loud clack.

Before your son turns, Kyle’s baseball cap with the Union Jack, soars through the air like a frisbee. This one your son manages to avoid, but it’s quickly followed by a slipper. It flies past his head, and you catch it out of the air before it makes contact with the front of the microwave.

You and your eldest son turn in Kyle’s direction as he manifests in the kitchen entryway, the other slipper in hand, poised to launch it at the first sign of any movement.

“Wanna repeat yourself, mate?” Kyle appears calm and poised, but you notice the subtle tension in his jaw.

“It was a joke, Dad! Promise!”

Kyle’s arm holding the slipper starts to rise.

“Kyle,” you say. His gaze flicks to you. “Just a joke. No harm. I was in on it.”

His shoulders immediately sag. Kyle shakes his head. Rolls his eyes. Heading for the fridge, he opens it up, grabbing a can of his favorite beer.

Kyle sets the beer down on the island, pointing the slipper at you and then his son. His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. No words come out, just an exasperated huff.

Kyle snatches up the television remote and sticks it into the pocket of his grey sweatpants. Keeping hold of the shoe in one hand, and his beer in the other, he gives the two of you his back, heading into the living room.

“No one bother me until the game is over,” he says over his shoulder. “And someone bring me my bloody slipper!”

John Price

"Fucking hell, Mum. Shut it."

John is up and out of his seat so fast you hardly see him move. He strides over to his son, yanking him off the stool by the scruff of his shirt.

"John! It's a prank!" you say quickly, reaching for his arm.

The boy is dangling in the air, toes just shy of touching the ground. "A prank?" asks John skeptically.

"Mum is in on it. Promise."

John sighs heavily and slowly lowers his son to the ground. The moment his feet touch ground, he tries to step away, but John holds firm, keeping his eldest child immobile. He leans forward a bit. Lowers his voice.

"Prank or no, you never talk to your mother, your sisters, or any woman in that manner again. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good boy." John releases his son. "The lawn needs trimmed."

"Yes, sir."

Your son scurries away. It isn't until the door to the garage opens and shuts that John moves toward you. His arm drapes over your waist, hand landing firmly on your ass, squeezing hard.

"You're coming with me."

"To do what?"

He presses his lips to your ear. "For a different sort of punishment."

John "Soap" MacTavish

"You’re off your head, lad.”

With Johnny’s cold tone comes a tension to your son’s shoulders. He becomes rigid, sliding down into his chair like he can escape from his father by cowering underneath the table. Johnny comes around the corner, a bit of sweat on his brow. He's been building furniture all day for the nursery.

"Want to repeat that for me?" asks Johnny.

Your son’s voice cracks. "It was just a prank, Dad."

"It was what?" Johnny strides forward.

"It's a prank. I'm in on it. Promise," you say, attempting to soothe Johnny’s anger.

Johnny crosses his arms over your chest. "Is it?" He glances between the two of you and sighs, muttering, “Am pure done in.”

He disappears down the hall, returning with a stack of instructional manuals, dropping them into his son’s lap. "You're building furniture."

"But I—"

“You right scunner. C’mon.” Johnny yanks his son out of the chair, the stack of instructional manuals goes flying. Your son reaches for them all, desperately clasping them against his chest.

“Johnny," you call out, walking around the counter to intervene.

He glances over his shoulder, frown gown, sly smirk on his face. “Deal with you later."

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Oi, Mum. Shut it.”

Your son is a wonderful actor. You’ll give him that. Even you almost believe him. Not that he would—he’d never—but his delivery reminds you of a completely pissed football fan ready to throw a punch at a member of the rival team.

He should consider theater.

Simon, your husband, is watching a rugby match in the living room. The television is on but at a low volume.

Within seconds of the words leaving your son’s mouth, Simon appears like a phantom guardian in the entryway. In one he holds the remote like a weapon. The other arm cradles his infant daughter. She looks like a small bean. Slightly curved as she snuggles closer against Simon’s chest as she sleeps.

He's not looking at you. He's staring at his son, gaze intense and full of fire.

You’ve seen that look before.

Mission abort.

"He's joking, Simon. It's just a prank,” you soothe, knowing you need to get ahead of this.

Not that Simon would hurt you or his son, but he rarely takes any shit. This prank was a gamble, and you’re completely regretting it.

"Don't mean it, Dad."

Simon just stares for a long minute. His daughter squirms and that is when he glances down, severing the connection. Observing her must change something in him, because his gaze returns to the two of you, and there is a calmness now.

Sighing heavily, Simon shakes his head, completely exasperated. The eye roll is so apparent it’s like a shout.

In the moment he was pissed—livid. But now he’s over it, more annoyed and unamused than actually mad.

Turning on his heel, daughter still cradled in one arm, Simon returns to his recliner, settling back into the soft cushions to finish watching his rugby match.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep

@blackhawkfanatic @sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie

@kadeeesworld @umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @lxblm

@arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @ash-tarte @spookyscaryspoon @enarien