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prettycopperpennies · 2 days ago

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Falling Walls | Kang Dae-ho (Player 388) x F!Reader Oneshot

Description: If Dae-ho thought you would be an easy ally he had another think coming. (golden retreiver x black cat type shit. Slow burn)

Warning: Cursing, Toxic Ex (not Dae-ho), no gore but the setting is squid games.

Dae-ho x Female Reader

Player 456 was telling the truth. You were in shock as you saw people falling to the ground out of the corner of your eyes. You listened much closer the second time Player 456 ran to the front of the group and yelled out instructions.

“Get behind someone bigger than you,” he said, his last command before the massive doll turned its back to the rest of you.

Suddenly you were being maneuvered. Player 388 had stuck out a strong arm and swooped you behind him. You were surprised by how quickly he jumped into action, but your incredulity only lasted a few moments. With a huff you stepped out of his shadow. You made it a few steps before you had to freeze again right beside Player 388.

“Didn’t you hear what he said? ‘Get behind someone bigger’,” he said, clearly surprised by you overtaking him. You glared ahead, not daring to move.

Dae-ho was completely lost. He had moved out of his way to help you, and it’s not like he expected you to be worshiping the ground he walked on for it, but he definitely did not think you would be annoyed.

As soon as the song began again you turned your head in his direction and said, “Didn’t you hear what he said? If you’re going to talk when we’re not supposed to move then you had better cover your mouth.”

Dae-ho’s mouth was agape, not sure how to respond. Lucky for him he didn’t have to think up something to say; you were already moving far past him. He could have easily kept up with you, but an older player had taken your place behind him. He couldn’t leave a defenseless old woman behind so his only option was to watch you as you made your way across the field.

You turned around when you crossed the finish line watching with bated breath as the other players tried to cross in time. You exhaled when Player 456 and Player 120 just barely dragged an injured man across the line, but as soon as they crossed over the hurt player was “eliminated”.

You jumped when you heard the gunshot ring out, and jumped a second time when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s because that player was supposed to be taken out of the game earlier. I don’t think they’re just attacking random players now, it’s okay,” a voice said.

You turned your head to see it was Player 388.

What is his deal? you asked yourself as you shrugged off his shoulder.

“I know that,” you said curtly, turning on your heel and walking towards the opening doors. You wanted to get away from the now blood soaked playing field, creepy doll, and the annoyingly friendly Player 388 as soon as possible.

What’s her deal? Dae-ho asked himself as he watched you walk away. He couldn't figure you out, but unfortunately for you he was determined to.

1 YEAR EARLIER

You were sitting on the couch, surrounded by tons of papers. Receipts, debt notices, loan statements, threatening letters, and an eviction notice. The lines of letters and numbers (way, way, way too many numbers) started to blur as you began to well up with tears.

You heard the door open but never close, and you looked up to find your boyfriend frozen in the door frame. You grabbed fistfuls of paper; not even making a dent in the haphazard stacks around you. Your boyfriend flinched as you held them up for him to see.

“When were you going to tell me about… all this?” you asked.

He didn’t answer and instead took a few tentative steps towards you.

“Don’t,” you warned, trying to sound intimidated as your voice quivered.

He didn’t listen to your one word warning as he slowly closed the space between you with each step.

“I’m so serious. I’m not just going to forgive you,” you said.

He was close enough to reach out a hand, cupping your tear stained cheek with his palm before saying, “I don’t expect you to. I fucked up-”

“Yeah, you did,” you said. Your tone was stern and unforgiving, but you still hadn’t brushed away his hand.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said.

“We’re getting evicted,” you said, tears now freely running down your face. He sat down next to you pulling you into a tight hug. You folded into it. Even though it was all his fault, he had always been the one to comfort you.

“I’m going to fix this, okay?” he said, “You don’t need to worry. It’s my fault. I’ll fix it.”

“No,” you said with a shake of your head, “This is a partnership. I don’t care who’s fault it is. We get through this together.”

“Really?” he said with relief as he pulled out of the hug to hold your cheek in his hand once again.

“You would do the same for me,” you said.

“Of course I would,” he said.

You sighed, feeling a glimmer of hope. You could always count on him to help you feel better about anything, no matter how hopeless it seemed before.

PRESENT DAY

Everyone in your vicinity started to cheer, but you stayed stoic. Yes, you had just won the vote, but you weren’t elated. It was simply a pragmatic decision on your part. It was not like you wanted to stay. You simply had no other choice.

As you walked back towards your bunk you saw the player who kept trying to help you during the first game. You were surprised to see he had voted O. You figured he would want to end the games immediately before anyone else got hurt. His own eyes went over the crowd and landed on you. You quickly looked away, hoping against hope he hadn’t noticed your staring.

“There is no way we both showed up wearing the same thing,” a familiar voice said. You rolled your eyes before turning to face Player 388. He was sporting a sarcastically shocked expression, looking between your outfit and his.

He pointed to your blue O patch and his before saying, “I mean, it’s down to the accessories and everything. What are the chances?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. There was no way in hell you were about to crack a smile over such a cheesy joke. You scoffed before heading in the direction of your bed.

“What I was trying to point out was we both voted O. Let’s be allies,” he said, easily keeping up with your quick pace.

“I don’t need an ally,” you said curtly. You were suddenly stopped in your tracks as he stepped in front of you.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked before gesturing with a nod to the other players.

You looked around realizing a lot of people were already forming groups. This did not bode well for you. You had meant what you said: you didn’t need an ally… Or, maybe it was more like you didn’t want an ally.

As you looked around the room Dae-ho noticed your nervous expression. He felt guilty when he saw how his point had stressed you out. He mentally kicked himself for inadvertently freaking you out.

He leaned towards you, dipping down a little to bring you closer to eye level.

“I don’t think it’s actually a big deal,” he said in a much quieter tone, attempting to make up for his comment moments earlier, “It’s more like I need an ally, you know? I’m sure you’d be fine on your own.”

You were taken back by how gentle this seemingly boisterously energized player seemed. You turned back to face him only to realize how close the two of you were.

“I know I’ll be fine,” you said, but this time you couldn’t quite manage to sound as vexed as usual.

“No, I totally agree. You seem like a badass,” he said. If jokes didn’t work in breaking down your apathetic facade maybe compliments would.

Or maybe not, Dae-ho thought to himself as you openly rolled your eyes. You side stepped around him. This time Dae-ho stayed back as you stalked off to your bed.

“I’m around if you change your mind,” he called after you.

“I won’t,” you said over your shoulder, determined to figure out a way to make your way out of this on your own.

You ate by yourself. You were one of the few people who had not seemed to find their own group of people to buddy up with. Player 388 was talking across the room to a group of men that included Player 456. He seemed completely at ease, and you found yourself almost jealous of his outgoing personality. He caught your eye once again, giving you a small wave. You did not return the gesture instead moving your eyes off him as quickly as you could.

I’ll be fine, you said to yourself, repeating the phrase once again. This time though you struggled to believe it.

SEVENTH MONTHS AGO

You were packing as fast as you could trying your best to ignore the many excuses your boyfriend was telling you.

“She’s just a friend,” he insisted for the millionth time.

“Very good friends apparently,” you spat back, wrestling with yourself to keep your tears back. This asshole was not about to make you cry.

“Y/n, it didn’t mean anything,” he said.

“To you, maybe!” you said.

“I don’t care what it meant to her. Really, I don’t. You matter so much more tha-”

“Shut up! What do you think seeing her and you together meant to me? How it felt?” you asked.

“Babe, I’m so sorry,” he said.

“Don’t call me babe. And don’t apologize. I don’t want to hear it,” you said. It wasn’t exactly true though. You couldn't help it. You still found yourself caring about him a little, and hearing him say sorry sent a squeeze to your heart no matter how much you wished it didn’t.

“I really am sorry,” he said as he reached out his hand.

He used his classic move, gently cupping your cheek as he apologized for whatever new fuck up he did. You paused for a moment, shaken by how close it was to working, before you shoved his hand away.

“I’m leaving,” you said, grabbing your bag.

“Wait, don’t go. Let’s talk, please,” he said, the words coming out quickly as he followed down the hall. You quickened your pace knowing any second now he could break your resolve. It didn’t matter how bad he hurt you, you always seemed to forgive him. But not this time.

PRESENT DAY

Your mouth went dry as soon as the voice announced over the loudspeaker to form groups of five. It was as if the universe was hell bent on proving you wrong and Player 388 right. It seemed like everyone else was making groups with ease, basically already having a group already made thanks to the previously forged friendships.

Dae-ho was giving you the space you wanted, but he couldn’t help but notice the nervous expression you wore when he spotted you in the crowd. He wanted nothing more than to go over and offer you a place on his team, but he stopped himself from going over and giving you a helping hand. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to help you; it wasn’t what you wanted. His shoulder relaxed, which he hadn’t even realized he had been tensing, when you found a group just in the nick of time.

You ended up with a group of men led by Player 100. He was surly off the bat and not at all interested in making friends which was fine by you. It wasn’t a problem till it came to choosing who would play which game.

“And you can play Jegi,” Player 100 said, assigning you a game.

“I’ve never played Jegi,” you told him.

“Then you had better find a way to practice! If you mess up, we’re all dead,” he said with a huff like it was somehow your fault for never playing.

“How would I practice?” you asked.

This is exactly why I don’t need an ally, you thought spitefully to yourself.

“There’s pebbles all over,” he said, pointing at the dirt ground you all stood at, “Pick some up. And. Practice.”

“Is everything okay over here?”

Player 388 was walking up to your team. His expression was one you hadn’t seen before, and it was surprisingly intimidating. But he wasn’t looking at you. Instead he was glaring down Player 100.

“Go back to your own team. We’re fine here,” Player 100, waving him off.

But Player 388 didn’t seem so easily scared off. He stepped between you and the old man, clearly not planning on leaving any time soon.

“Look, it’s not my fault she’s refusing to play Jegi,” Player 100 said, not backing down either.

“Are any of you good at Jegi?” Player 388 asked the rest of your group.

One member timidly raised their hand, trying their best to avoid the glares from Payer 100. Suddenly another member spoke up saying they much preferred Djaki over Spinning Top. That opened up the floodgates, and all three players on your team quickly started to admit they’d like to switch games. Player 388 looked at you with a much kinder expression (one you were used to seeing him sport).

“Which do you want to play?” he asked.

“I’m alright at Biseokchigi,” you admitted. You couldn’t tell if he was actually starting to wear you down or it was thanks to his earlier moment of intimidation, but your usual cold shouldering demeanor was momentarily dismantled.

He nodded before looking over to your other group members, one of whom was happy to switch spots with you. Player 100 openly scoffed at his team's betrayal, but his attitude was somewhat quelled with Player 388 gave him another look.

“What game is left over?” he asked the team without ever taking his eyes off the old man.

“Spinning top,” you said.

“Alright, then you’ll have spinning top,” he said, assigning Player 100 a game in a very similar fashion the man had assigned your game to you. You waited a moment for Player 100 to disagree, but he knew when he was beat. Without argument he took a seat on the ground, and your other teammates followed suit.

Player 388 turned to you and asked, “Are you good? You know, maybe they’ll let you switch teams.”

“I’m good,” you said, moving towards the end of your team’s line to take a seat.

“Let me help you,” he asked. You were taken aback by the earnest desperation in his voice, but you managed to shake it off before responding.

“I don’t need your help,” you answered curtly.

He groaned in frustration, but left you to your own devices as he went back to his own team. You had gotten your way, and yet there was a part of you that was a little sad to see him go.

“Lucky you know Dae-ho. I would kill to have a marine as an ally,” your team member sitting next to you said.

“Who’s Dae-ho?” you asked.

“Player 388. I thought you two had formed a pact or something,” they said, their eyebrows raising with surprise.

“Oh. No, we haven’t,” you said.

Dae-ho managed to cheer louder than anyone else for your team, which wasn’t an easy feat considering how loudly everyone was yelling. As soon as you crossed that line relief flooded through you. Of course, there was one person in particular who caught your eye mid celebration.

When Dae-ho saw you smiling at him he felt his knees start to go weak. For the past few days he’d only been getting eye rolls and frowns, but he hadn’t expected you to look so beautiful when you smiled. As soon as you looked in his direction he started to whoop even louder, giving you a grin. He swore he could see your demeanour brighten even more as the two of you locked eyes. But, as much as he wished the moment would last, you and your team were soon swooped out of the room.

Your eyes shot to the doors every time you heard them open to let in a new celebrating group. A tinge of disappointment jabbed at you as each group passed and it was missing one familiar face. You tried to distract yourself, making and remaking your bed countless times.

Why is there literally nothing to do here, you thought to yourself.

You were trying to convince yourself you were bored, not worried for one very specific player who had somehow started to worm his way into your heart. Whether you were willing to admit it or not, the fact that he stood up for you meant something to you.

Your bed was in the midst of being made for the hundredth time when the doors opened once again. You had almost given up hope, but still you chanced a look. Against all odds you saw a familiar ponytailed tall frame. Without thinking you rushed down the steps with relief fueled adrenaline.

Dae-ho stopped mid conversation with his team as soon as he saw you standing just a few feet from him, breathing heavily. He bit back a smile at the uncharacteristic situation you were in. It wasn’t until you were face to face with him that you realized exactly what you were doing. You were so happy he had made it, fully terrified for the past half hour he wasn’t coming back through those doors, that the second you saw him your brain turned off. But now, with Dae-ho’s eyes looking into yours, the switch had been flipped and your mind was racing once again.

What am I doing? you internally screamed at yourself. You thought about just turning around and walking away, but he had already seen you (of course he did, you had ran directly up to him).

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“What? Yes,” you said, trying and failing to sound apathetic, “I ran down the steps just now.”

“Any reason why?” he asked.

“I… really have to go to the bathroom,” you said.

It was a shitty lie. You both knew it. You internally cringed, but Dae-ho was all grins. At a feeble attempt to prove your claim was true you started to head in the direction of the restrooms.

“I’m not letting you off that easy,” Dae-ho said.

“What are you even talking about?” you asked, feigning confusion.

“That’s actually so weird,” he said.

“What’s so weird? Me having to pee? I hate to break it to you Dae-ho, but everyone does it,” you said.

“Nah, I’m talking about you being a terrible liar. I wouldn’t have guessed that in a million years,” he said.

“I’m not lying,” you said, stopping to glare him down. Your attempt at intimidation was completely undermined by the “I’ve totally been caught” blush blooming on your cheeks.

“Relax. That just means you're a good person,” he said.

Somehow that comment had shot through a crack in your walls and hit your heart straight on. You didn’t want to admit how much it meant for this absolute golden retriever of a person to think of you as a good person.

Dae-ho noticed your silence and it stung. He didn’t like how simply telling you you were a good person totally knocked you off your feet. He knew what he said was true, and it hurt him to think hearing it was something special. He didn’t think a compliment like that should be something foreign to someone like you.

“You really are a good person, you know,” he said, repeating what he had said before.

You were surprised to feel a burning behind your eyes. The earnest tone in his voice, what he was telling you, it was all about to bring you to tears. The walls you so carefully crafted weren’t cracking, they were crashing down. You couldn’t stand feeling so vulnerable and instead of shooting back some quippy comment you took off before he could see a single tear slide down your cheek.

Dae-ho watched you rush off to the bathroom, leaving him feeling heartbroken for the distant girl he had undeniably fallen for.

3 MONTHS AGO

You rubbed your forehead in frustration as the elevator music played from your phone. You had been on hold for three hours and were about to lose your mind.

“Hello Miss y/n,” a voice said, finally bringing an end to that cursed generic tune.

Your fist clenched tightly around the phone, more than a little relieved to finally hear a human voice, “Yes, hello! I’m here!”

“So we looked through your records, and it seems like the best course of action for now is to suspend your account and get a new card,” the voice said.

“But I’ve already done that,” you said with a sinking feeling.

“Oh… Ah, yes I see that,” they said.

“So, you see why, right?” you checked, hoping for some sort of solution in the midst of the worst storm you had ever found yourself in.

“Um…” the voice trailed off, clearly trying to find what you were alluding to in some sort of file.

“It’s my ex. He had my credit card info and used it to pay off his loans, but I can’t pay any of it back. I’ll be put into debt,” you explained, running a hand through your hair in stress.

“I see. Well, perhaps we can cover some of that. I believe if you report him-”

“I tried, but that…” you bit your tongue, stopping the “asshole” just on the tip of it from falling out, “He’s currently seeing someone pretty high up the ladder in the force, so...”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it really didn’t seem like a productive phone call,” you admitted.

You quickly brushed away the frustrated tears falling down your face as if this person was standing in front of you. Of course, they had no idea, but even now you couldn't even stand the thought of someone simply being on the phone with you while you were like this.

“Listen, he stole my identity, took out credit cards in my name, paid off loans with my money, took out more loans in my name, and I need to figure out a way to fix this,” you said, praying they couldn’t notice the quivering in your voice.

PRESENT DAY

You were standing on the raised circular level a little nauseated by the hypocritically cheerful carousel motif. You tried to focus your head, but it was admittedly hazy. You had spent the last twenty four hours trying desperately to tamp down thoughts of two men in your life. Once from the past and one you were all too aware was very much in your present. You were completely unsuccessful in your attempts, and instead you had been tossing and turning all night and completely unable to eat at mealtimes.

Dae-ho glanced in your direction, knowing he wouldn’t catch your eyes no matter how much he hoped. He hated seeing you the other day leave the bathroom with red rimmed eyes. Clearly you had been crying. All he wanted to do was give you a hug and tell you it was okay. It was okay to cry, to be sad, or mad, any of it was okay. But if he thought you were distant before then this was a whole other level. Ever since your conversation after the last game you were avoiding him even more than before, which was saying something. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching out for you as the horribly familiar voice echoed across the room as it explained the rules.

You had managed to stumble across some much deserved luck. You choosing to stay ally-less seemed to be an advantage for Mingle. Everyone had their previously forged groups, but as the numbers called out by the voice fluctuated there was always people needing just one more person to join their group.

You and Dae-ho seemed to be playing your own separate game: how to look at each other without the other person noticing. Despite your resolve to completely forget him you could not stop yourself from scanning the crowd after every round. You would always feel relieved every time you saw his tall figure among the crowd. Dae-ho was doing the same, making sure you always had a group before he went into his own room. He was starting to worry as the game went on. You had seemed tired before the game even started, and as it continued he could see the exhaustion start to set in.

As soon as the voice said “Two” you tried to keep your head in the game, but the rush of bodies around you already had you stumbling. You couldn't even find someone to pair up with, and the rooms were quickly filling up. With a deep breath you accepted the failure that was approaching. But then a hand grabbed your own and pulled you towards one of the few empty rooms. You saw the number 388 on the back of your savior’s shirt.

Of course, you thought to yourself. Despite being so sure of your fate just moments ago you were hardly surprised Dae-ho saved you just in time.

He closed the door behind the two of you, and suddenly the hectic world was shut out. You both stood, frozen, looking at the other. You couldn’t find what to say. You had kept yourself closed off for so long, and so severely, opening up was suddenly an impossible task. Dae-ho was of course the first one to break the silence.

“Sorry. I know you’ve been keeping your distance for a reason, but-”

“Did you just apologize for saving my life? God, that is so…you,” you said, and despite everything you felt an exasperated smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

He paused for a moment before giving you a feeble laugh. You bit at your lip in nervousness, knowing what you were about to ask and it terrified you. Dae-ho noticed your stress and assumed the game, and how close you both just came to losing, had really shaken you up. He wanted desperately to offer you some sort of comfort; to say something or just hold you. But before he could do anything you were speaking up once again.

“Want to be allies?” you asked.

He gave you a soft smile as he took a step towards you with a nod, “Of course.”

“Okay,” you said, trying not to sound so overly relieved.

“I mean, I had never even thought about it before, but it seems great for a totally random idea,” he said, and you let yourself laugh at his little joke.

Dae-ho’s chest puffed up a little as you giggled, practically on cloud nine to not only get you to smile but actually laugh. He wanted to do it over and over again for as long as you would let him.

1 WEEK AGO

You turned the card over and over again in your hand. Your cheek was still stinging from the odd interaction in the subway. But at the end of it all you were given the very card you were holding now. You hadn’t been able to crawl out of the hole your ex made for you. You had no other answers.

With a deep breath you dialed the number on the back of the card.

PRESENT DAY

You waited nervously on your bed as gunshots rang out from floors above you. You thought about going too and helping them, but when you admitted you didn’t know how to use a gun they told you it might be best for you to stay behind. You still felt bad. Dae-ho and you were officially allies now, and you couldn’t help but feel you were letting that partnership down.

When Dae-ho stumbled into the room, you sat straight up. Something about him didn’t seem right. He seemed totally out of it as he rifled through pockets of jumpsuits. You quickly crossed over to him, kneeling down next to him.

“Dae-ho, is everything okay? Are you okay?” you asked.

Your voice pulled him out of the barrage of intense thoughts and images flashing through his mind. He was shutting down, but hearing you suddenly brought him back. He looked at you; a buoy in the storm.

Your heart broke for him as you saw his eyes start to well with tears. Instinctually you reached out and pulled him into a hug. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his shoulders start to relax. Neither of you had been that physically close till this point, but even in this heightened situation it seemed so natural.

“I… I can’t go back. It’s too much like…” he couldn’t finish his train of thought, but you recalled what another player had told you during the second game about Dae-ho being a marine.

“It’s okay,” you said, rubbing calming circles on his back before helping him get on his feet. He grabbed your hand in his, interlacing your fingers with his, needing to stay close to you in this moment. You let him pull you to sit next to him as he sat on his bed, and you wrapped a protective arm around him.

“I don’t know what to do, y/n. They need help, but I…” he started, struggling to finish his sentence once again.

“You stay here, okay?” you told him. You moved to get up, but he wouldn't drop your hand from his. Instead, he looked at you with wide-worrying eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“It’ll be alright. I’ll take them the ammunition,” you assured him, once again attempting to get up. He stopped you once again, pulling you close. Your breath hitched in your throat as he brought his hand to your cheek. It was a feeling that should seem so familiar, but somehow as Dae-ho gently held your cheek in his hand it couldn't feel further from your ex. Just like everything else Dae-ho did, this was real and not some “move” to get you to do something for him.

“I can’t be the reason you are put in danger, y/n,” he said, proving you right. He was not trying to make you forget any mistakes or to fix anything for him. He just wanted to hold you close.

You subconsciously leaned in, and it only took a half of a moment for Dae-ho to meet you in the middle. The kiss was gentle and full of care. You naturally leaned into his palm as he cupped your cheek.

“I’ll be alright,” you said, breaking the kiss.

He moved his hand from your cheek to the nape of your neck, guiding you so your forehead rested against his.

“I’m not going to let you risk everything for me, okay?,” he assured you.

Player 120 entered the room, and the both of you moved away from each other. He tried over and over again to apologize while she grabbed the ammunition he had gathered, but then she was stopped by one of her own allies. All of you snapped your heads to the sliding doors as guards entered the room. Player 120 and her friend quickly and quietly hid the ammunition she was currently holding.

Dae-ho grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. Neither of you knew what was coming, but it seemed like it would be alright as long as you had each other.

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tsuutarr · 18 hours ago

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(Yandere Otome Isekai Harem [commoner MLs] x Reader)

"Thrust into an unfamiliar world, you have to navigate your role as the Heir to the Arrington Estate. Luckily for you, you have allies that are eager to help you. Maybe a little too eager, in fact."

The Arrington Estate [Chapter 1]

When you wake up, the first thing you want to do is throw up. You feel so deathly ill that you’re on the cusp of feeling like you’re not alive at all. But you’re in so much pain that you know you have to be alive – there’s no other way your nerves would be filled with what feels like molten lava.

“Breathe.” A voice, gentle and low, soothes from beside you. A warm hand settles itself on your back and you’re not even sure how you managed to register it, but you do. “Drink.”

You’re not fully conscious of how the liquid pours down your throat, but you soon find your eyes fluttering shut. Your nerves settle down as you’re lulled into a peaceful rest.

Time is foreign to you when you wake up. Your body still feels heavy, but it doesn’t hurt like it did prior. Processing things is difficult, your mind being bogged down with thoughts that have no end. All you can do is stare at the ceiling made of ornate golden patterns. Gorgeous, but…

It isn’t familiar to you.

Panic should be shooting through your spine, but there’s a feeling of… emptiness that seems to sink into your heart, making the situation seem dull rather than frightening.

“Are you awake?”

You didn’t even realize that there is someone beside you – beside the bed you’re in. Slowly, you turn your head to see a man sitting poised and proper on a wooden chair. His long chestnut colored hair is tied in a neat ponytail, a pleasant smile on his face. But what really draws your attention are his eyes – golden, almost.

“It appears that your complexion has returned. That is a relief,” he says, but you can’t really discern the emotion on his face.

“Who are you?” The words come out of your mouth before you’ve even processed them inside your brain.

There’s something eerie about the way his expression shifts – it doesn’t shift too noticeably, but there’s a hint of pensiveness that makes you nervous.

“My, I suppose your illness has rendered your memory quite poor. That is unfortunate,” he murmurs, but you’re not entirely sure if he means it or not. It’s a weird contrast – he speaks so kindly, so gently, that he seems so harmless. But he is a stranger to you. You don’t know him – if you can trust him.

Perhaps he notices the wariness on your face, but he relaxes his body somewhat, offering you a friendlier smile as he introduces himself, “My name is Geoffry Cullen. I am your butler.”

“B… Butler? Mine?” you ask, your brain fog slowly receding. Everything about this situation is so foreign to you, from the ornate ceiling to the luxurious bed you’re on to the man who claims he serves you.

You’re pretty sure this isn’t the life you remember.

“Yes, yours.”

“Who am I, then?” you ask, trying to piece together something – anything that can give you a hint.

“Why, you’re the heir to the Arrington Estate,” he states as if it is the most obvious fact in the world. And perhaps it is the most obvious fact to everyone but you.

You can’t help but doubt the validity of this “fact” that’s been told to you because, while you don’t remember much, you do remember something:

You are, in fact, not the heir to the Arrington Estate.

Perhaps your expression gives away your entire dilemma, because Geoffrey offers you a sympathetic smile. It’s the kindest he’s looked so far.

“You must be hungry. Let me bring you your meal.” He stands up gracefully, adjusting his suit jacket as he does so. “In the meantime, please get some more rest.”

He bows, before exiting the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You’re still utterly lost and confused, the uncertainty of your own situation making you nervous.

Despite your legs still feeling wobbly, you force yourself to rise. Stumbling, you make your way to the mirror. It’s probably the fanciest mirror you’ve ever seen – it almost looks like a jewelry box. It’s so fancy that you’re undoubtedly certain that you aren’t home. There’s no way you could ever afford a mirror of this quality.

What’s odd, though, is that you actually see yourself in the reflection. A part of you wondered if you’d possess another body or something of that sort, but… you look identical to how you remember looking. But you shouldn’t look like yourself, right? After all, the butler – Geoffrey – had claimed that you are the heir to the Arrington Estate, which you aren’t.

Now that you’ve been allowed to wake up fully without the pain from prior, things are slowly coming back to you. You recall your home, your friends, your family; and it’s all just so normal compared to the grand room you’ve found yourself in. This room feels too fantastical to be real.

In fact, it reminds you of the stories you had read about reincarnation and transmigration back in your world. Everything, from your confusion to the room to the butler, seems like the hallmarks of one of the transmigration or reincarnation stories you had read back then. Only… you’re not certain what story you’re in. Geoffrey as a character is unfamiliar to you. The Arrington Estate as a place is unfamiliar to you.

Furthermore…

Why do you still look like yourself?

You can’t wrap your head around it. Sure, some people retained their appearance when they got teleported into another world, but they usually had a role that did not already exist. These people are the “hero” that got called to help save the world, so it makes sense that they retained their appearance.

But it doesn’t make sense for you. You’re considered the Heir to the Arrington Estate, meaning that you must’ve taken over the role of someone who already exists. And yet you still look like yourself.

You groan, feeling tired. You feel lost and confused. There are too many things you don’t understand – too many variables.

It’s all too much for you.

Slowly, you trudge back to your bed, settling yourself under the plush covers. You’re pretty sure that the blanket itself is enough to pay your rent for a year. You don’t even want to think about how much the pillows, the bed, the entire room may cost. You’re certain that it’s more money than you would’ve been able to see in ten lifetimes, at least.

But now you’re able to see all this money – it’s yours, technically.

It doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense. It makes your heart beat loudly inside your brain, making your ears ring as you stare up at the ornate ceiling. Somehow, looking at the ceiling makes the buzz in your brain quiet. Your eyes follow the curves and edges highlighted in gold. Your eyes follow the ceiling’s patterns again and again and again until you lull your tired body into a dreamless slumber.

Geoffrey returns to your room a bit later, only to see you slumbering peacefully. He places your meal down on your bedside table, before taking a seat on the wooden chair by your bedside. Quietly, he watches as your chest rises and falls softly, breathing even in your sleep.

Yes, you must’ve been quite tired, that much is certain. It’s not easy to come back from death, after all. And you should be dead, yet somehow aren’t.

“Curious, isn’t it?” he murmurs, softly, his gaze lingering on your face for any clues.

Yes, it’s quite curious. You should be dead. He was certain that you wouldn’t be able to recover.

Oh, yes, he was quite certain.

After all, he’s the one that killed you.

And yet, here you are.

#yandere oc #male yandere #yandere x reader #tsuuper ocs #yandere x you #tw yandere #male yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc #yandere butler #yandere butler x reader #Geoffrey Cullen Tsuu OC #The Arrington Estate (Tsuuries)#Yandere Otome Isekai #Yandere series

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lostinlovingrevery · 18 hours ago

Text

Indecisive

70s DOFP! Logan X Curvy! F! Reader

A/n: This got away from me.

Plot: You're indecisive about everything- and soon you become unsure about Logan. He makes sure to get rid of those doubts of yours.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ only!, DUB-CON (like a lot but reader is super into it), kinda rough sex, dom! logan, oral (f! recieving), logans a total munch, doggy style, the claws come out, readers described as curvy but not super relevant to the plot?

Word Count: 3960

You weren’t sure about him.

You met Logan a few weeks ago, you bumped into each other at the local park near your apartment. One look at him made your knees weak - you had never seen a man look so good before.

Tall- much taller than you, muscular, wearing a tight black t-shirt that stretched across his chest and looked as if it would rip and he dared to flex at all. Over that, a black leather jacket, a little worn at the shoulder. Dark blue jeans, that hugged his hips and thighs, sporting a thick belt, with some interesting design that you couldn’t make out - because you couldn’t just sit and stare at his crotch the entire time. His face was very nice to look at anyway, with a sort of slicked back style and a widows peak hairstyle that was very distinctive, mutton chops going down his jawline and stopping at his chin. Pretty hazel eyes that stared right through you- an intensity that you couldn’t help but blush under.

He’s so handsome!

You had been distracted, busy staring down at a notebook that you had your arm cradling as you walked the path you were so familiar with. You were in the process of starting a business- a florist shop, and there were hundreds of things to decide. Which was unfortunate for you, since you were the most indecisive person on Earth.

What to eat for breakfast, what shoes to wear, what drink to order, what lipstick to put on,

It goes on and on, your day is constantly full of questions, comparing your choices and trying to pick the best one. Honestly it’s a wonder how you managed to get this far in life, considering you could stand in the middle of the store for eternity comparing the colors of a dress you like- unable to decide what you thought looked better on you.

Should I go to school?

Should I start a business?

Should I keep seeing him?

After you finished fumbling apologies to him, while he gave you that cute little smile that made you practically want to melt under his stare- he asked you out. It surprised you, seeing that you were a girl on a more…curvier side. It wasn’t that you were unattractive, you knew your body well and you certainly weren’t indecisive on your confidence; even if you do meticulously craft your outfit of the day to make sure you look good as possible- even if it is painstakingly long process that it takes for you to even decide your outfit… Logan though, didn’t seem like the type to go after girls like you. He seemed the type to be inclined towards thinner girls, girls that looked like super models off the runway. You didn’t hold any bitterness towards that thought, everyone had a type.

You weren’t sure about saying yes, since you merely just met him- and he, sensing your indecisiveness, gave you a time and place. The way he took charge, helped you make the decision and it displayed how obviously interested he was in seeing you again attracted you like no other.

So you showed up, you had a good time with him. He made you laugh, charmed you like no other man has. You shared your first kiss with him that night- one that you spent in your bed thinking about all night, giddy and blushing. The next few weeks went by and he would call and set up another date, and another, and another

The initiative he took turned you on like no other. His quiet assertiveness brought you a certain comfort you weren’t familiar with- the way he was sure of himself. The cocky confidence he’d bring during your conversations- it would make you laugh, the way he’d smirk and say something snarky.

It was great, until tonight. Doubts started creeping into your mind, as you picked up on little things about him. Things that screamed trouble and heartbreak. You didn’t mind the trouble, not at all. It was the heartbreak that scared you. You felt yourself falling for him, but you weren’t sure if you should let yourself. He didn’t seem like the type to want to stick around- after you heard his stories of the travels he’s had. While he certainly seemed eager to see you, he hasn’t brought up anything about becoming serious, and you haven’t slept together yet- your own personal way of screening potential lovers.

It’s not like you want to hold out on purpose- you would’ve jumped his bones the moment you met, but you’ve been burned by men just wanting to sleep around - and you did not appreciate being led on by a potential of something real, when really it was just physical.

Tonight's date with him went by, and you felt something weird- your own doubts may have been playing in. It led you to question if you should keep this going. More of being unsure of your life.

For now, you decided to put the decision on a backburner while you undressed and took a shower, letting the warm water flow over you as you attempted to plan your day tomorrow. The sound of the shower meant you didn’t hear Logan coming into your apartment.

How could he not stop by?

You were acting differently tonight, not as happy, or perky. You weren’t holding his hand as often, smiling as often. Your mind seemed to be in another world. He had the feeling, after observing your little quirk of being unsure over things, that maybe you were feeling unsure about him.

He didn’t like the feeling.

Since he met you, he was obsessed. You have captured him in every way possible. It wasn’t easy to get his attention, Logan was always looking for the next thing, something better. The most it came to relationships for him was one-night stands, one where he seduced someone with a smile and a few cheap compliments, brought her back to a cheap motel, and got his rocks off- and left before the night even ended. He had his own place but he didn’t need women who had the misfortune of encountering him trying to seek him out again, because he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything that was more than physical.

Until he met you.

God, you drove him insane. He thinks about you more than he cares to admit. Your pretty lips that curve into that smile that makes his dick twitch. Your curves, that he’s traced with his eyes so many times that he can picture you perfectly in his mind. He stared at the way your breasts bounced when you laughed, the way your hips moved when you’d walk away, the love handles that were barely prominent in your usual clothes unless you were wearing something tight, he wanted to grip them as he fucked into you hard and completely undo you. He was addicted to you and he hadn’t even gotten a taste of you yet. A true taste. Your lips were so sweet, and he’d capture you in a kiss multiple times a night- never able to get enough of the sugar high you gave him.

It wasn’t just your beauty that captivated him. You were fierce, intelligent, and very passionate. You told him all about your little business you were starting, and your time in college, you’ve gone on a tangent more times about everything ranging from politics to flowers. He loved that passion he saw in your eyes and heard in your voice, it was something he hadn’t even realized he was looking for, something that he was missing.

You’d downplay yourself more times than once, always riding about how indecisive you were. You weren’t indecisive. You were passionate. You wanted to make sure you enjoyed everything life gave you, you didn’t want to miss out. Maybe you took a little longer to decide on whether you wanted to try the blue fruity drink, or the red. Logan didn’t mind that though- it made the world slow down when you took your time. His world was rushed, he never took a moment to appreciate where he was till he was with you.

He was excited about you- which is why he never pushed you toward any more…physical connections. He knew you’d open up to him when you were ready. He just had to keep himself satisfied by getting himself off to the thought of you every night since he’d met you. How badly has he resisted the urge to rip off your pretty little dress that hugged your curves and ruin you. He knew he’ll get that chance eventually- he was arrogant like that. He was willing to take time, especially considering he still had to tell you about who he was- something he wasn’t quite sure how to approach, since it hadn’t been an issue before with his no-strings-attached lifestyle.

Seeing you pulling away from him sent him into something dark and possessive. He could see where your indecisiveness was an issue- but he refused to let it be that way. You were the best thing he’s come across in over a century, He certainly wasn’t going to let that go over some uncertainty.

He knew you wanted him. He could smell it off you every time you met up, he could see it in your eyes the way you traced over his figure, a small blush coming to your cheeks and you’d quickly look away. How’d you get flustered when he’d get closer, putting his hand on your knee and squeezing, before letting his flinger flit underneath the hem of your dress, teasing you.

He had no problem getting rid of your doubts.

You stepped out of the shower, steaming filling the bathroom, as you grabbed your robe, something silky and small, barely covering you even as you tied the robe shut. You used a towel to dry your hair, and brushed your teeth, unknowing of the man lurking in your living room- waiting for you to come out.

After you brushed your teeth, your hair- you were ready for bed. You stepped out of the bathroom, steam pouring out through the doorway into the dark hallway. You begin turning towards your bedroom when a voice reaches your ear, and sends goosebumps down your arms.

“You take a long time in there.”

You turned around with a gasp. Logan was standing in front of your door, a faint smile on his face, and a look in his eye you’re not sure was anger or lust. His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, as he stood there. You swallowed, your heart beginning to pound.

“Lo…Logan what…What are you doing here? How did you get in?” You asked, trying to hide the fear you felt beginning to rise in you.

“Wanted to see you.” He says, taking a step forward. “You rushed out tonight.”

“I…I’m sorry I was just…I was tired, long day.” You stammered. His eyes went down, tracing over you, and it occurred to you that you were barely clad in your robe. You pulled it shut around your chest area, attempting to keep yourself covered. A frown came across his face.

“Don’t do that.” He says stepping closer to you. “Don’t cover what’s mine.”

“Excuse me?” You say with a bit of disbelief. “Logan I…I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…hurt your feelings or something but you coming in here like this is…is…”

“Is what doll?” He smirked. He was in front of you now, towering over you. You avoided looking at him, annoyed because his proximity to you was making your thighs clench together. You knew it was wrong, he practically broke into your apartment. Any other sane woman would be screaming their heads off, telling him to get out, throw things at him!

Yet the closer he stood to you, the less fear you felt, and more curiosity of what he was planning came to mind.

“Not sure what to say?” He asks a quirk of arrogance in his tone. You swallowed, and you finally looked up at him. He brought his hand up, his pointer finger tucking underneath your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He smirked. “Feeling indecisive again sweetheart?” He coos.

“Logan…”

“Feeling unsure about us?” He asks. You blink in surprise, your expression confirming his suspicions. He tuts, shaking his head, his hand slowly but firmly grabbing your face, his thumb and finger digging into the fat of your cheeks, forcing your lips to pucker. It was a move of dominance you hadn’t seen from him before, and you were ashamed to say you absolutely loved it. “How about I make that decision for you?” He says in a low voice. His lips crashed onto yours in a messy and rough kiss, your hands coming up to press against his chest - you’re still unsure about pulling him closer, or pushing him away.

Before you could react, he grabbed you, his arm around your waist as he lifted you, before roughly bringing you to the carpeted floor with him ontop of you.

Holy shit

He let go of you, his hand reaching down, ripping the belt of your robe off, and the silk fell to the side, exposing you completely to him. You gasped.

“Logan!” You reached your hand out, for what you didn’t know. He grabbed it, and your other hand, pinning them above your head as he used his knees to kick your legs open, his thighs pressing against yours-keeping them spread. Your skin felt on fire, embarrassment at being exposed like this running through you, making your body shiver as Logan stared down at you, his tongue coming out to lick his lips as if he was looking down at a full course meal. You knew it was wrong- you shouldn’t let him do this, but arousal began coating your heat between your legs, you felt yourself aching for stimulation- and you couldn’t help but find yourself loving how he took charge of you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had fantasies of him taking you like this before…You just never thought that would ever happen.

“Fuck, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined…” He mutters, his eyes trailing over every inch of you. He used one hand to keep yours pinned above you, as his free hand moved to grope your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple as it hardened under his touch, making you whimper as you began to squirm under him. “Don’t act like you don’t want this sweetheart.” He looks back up at you, “You’re soaked, see?”

His hand let go of your breast, two fingers swiping through your folds, making your hips jerk up, as he chuckled, holding the two fingers up and examining the slick he collected on them. You watched with wide eyes and parted lips as he brought them to his mouth, his tongue coming and tasting you on his fingers. He let out a deep groan as he closed his eyes, sticking his fingers into his mouth and taking the rest of your essence.

“Fuck.” He hissed. He let go of your wrists, his arms going under your thighs and lifting your upper half up to his face as he was still on his knees. You yelped, your hands came down to the floor, as you attempted to make up for the awkward position he dragged you in, your thighs thrown over his shoulders as he held a death grip on your hips.

His nose pressed to your mound, taking a deep inhale of you, and you covered your mouth as your face ran red hot at the filthy action.

God, he’s filthy!

He licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit, and let out an involuntary moan. His tongue ran rough circles around your clit. Your head tipped back, your eyes rolling. He began eating you out, almost desperately, his tongue dipping into your pulsing cunt, before licking another stripe through you, and nipping at your clit. It made your hips jerk and a whine escaped you.

You couldn’t take this, the way he was munching on you like a man starved, how your lower half body was suspended in air, you had no control. You melted into him, your hand finally reaching up to grip his hair- making him groan, his eyes opening to look down at you. You felt a honey-tight feeling in the pit of your stomach, and with little control you had, attempted to grind your hips against his face. You snapped, and a heat of release ran through you, soaking his face in your fluids.

You couldn’t completely tell in your post-coitus haze, but you swear he was laughing.

You were lowered down to the carpet, thighs spread and trembling.

“The things I’m going to do to you…” You heard him mutter. You felt his hands grab you again, and flip you on your stomach. His knees kept your legs spread, lifting your ass in the air, and he leaned over your body, bracing one arm next to your head. You heard him shuffling, the clink of his belt.

You felt his tip brush through your slit and gasped.

Fuck, he’s huge

You felt his breath on your ear. “You’re so damn gorgeous darling. I’ve been obsessed with you since we met.” He says lowly, sending goosebumps through your skin. “Tell me sweetheart, are you unsure about us now?” He mutters. Your breath hitched, and you shook your head. He smirked, something devilishly, as he pushed his tip inside you. “Good.” he growls, before pushing himself inside.

You cried out, the mere size of him felt like too much as he stretched you out. “Sshh, you’re alright.” He cooed, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw, while his other braced himself on top of you. “You can take it sweet girl- fuck-” He pressed his head into yours, “You feel so good.”

Your body trembled under him, he moved his hips back, before thrusting into you slowly again, allowing you to adjust to his size. His chest pressed against your back, you could feel the complete weight of him on top of you. Not crushing you- something that felt completely safe and warm.

“Logan-” You whined, desperate for more, arching your back against him. He chuckled, a sound that shot straight through you, making you clench around him.

“I got you baby, just relax.” He mutters, before he picks up his pace, thrusting in and out of you, his hips slapping against your ass. He held onto your jaw, his nose pressing into your hair as you listened to him grunt and growl with each thrust.

He got faster, your arms stretched out, hands attempting to grip the carpet for some kind of leverage. He was going so fast you don’t even know how he managed to have the stamina, as your eyes rolled back, the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you was enough to make you go dumb and pliant. He suddenly slowed down, making deep- slow thrusts where he nearly pulled completely out, before burying himself inside you again, making you cry out. The hand cradling your jaw came up, covering your mouth to hide your noises.

“Much as I like hearing those pretty noises, don’t need the neighbors complaining darling.” He mutters. He picked his pace again, pounding into your pussy, your whole body shaking underneath him. His arm that kept him braced on the floor wrapped around your hip, his hand gripping at your love handles, angling you higher- practically folding your body in half against him.

The new angle made you feel like you were going to pass out. His cock was pounding into that special spot, making you unable to think of anything, as your body hummed with your second orgasm, approaching quickly. You began whining his name into his hand, and he grunted.

“Fuck, fuck keep saying my name.” He growled, moving his hand from your lips a bit, just so he could hear you repeating his name over and over. “Oh fuck-”

His hands released his grip on you, as they came into your view, fists slamming into the floor- and your eyes widened as your watched sharp bone-like appendages protrude from his fist.

Oh shit-

You couldn’t barely react or acknowledged anything, as the tight thread that was growing in your stomach accordance with Logans thrusts finally snapped, waves of ecstasy rolling over your body, over and over as your eyes rolled back, and Logan’s hips snapped against your ass one more time, filling you up with warm spurts of his cum. He whined and grunted, a few lazy thrusts as he continued spilling into you, before finally stopping, his head collapsing onto your shoulder.

Your heart was racing, and you could barely see straight from the explosive orgasm that ran through you, but you attempted to focus on his hands, where the sharp appendages were still out. Your hand reached out, gently touching his, and he loosened his fist as you ran your fingers over his palm. You felt him pressing kisses along your shoulder.

“You okay?” He muttered softly. You nodded, swallowing.

“You’re a mutant?”

“Yeah.” He says. That explains the stamina

You didn’t know much about them, other than the fact that the U.S government announced that they were real and a part of the population. Some people were terrified of the idea- but you simply thought nothing of it. Just cause they could do things some couldn’t didn’t mean they weren’t people either- just like Logan. “That bother you?”

“No…” You shook your head, still looking at his hand. He chuckled.

“You were quick to answer that one.”

“Nothing to be unsure about with that.” You say matter-of-factly. He leaned over and kissed your cheek.

“Good.” He mutters. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet sweetheart.”

“Wait- what?”

You shrieked as he pulled out, pulling you up from the ground.

You spent the rest of the night being completely undone by him. He made sure to fuck out any doubt or questions you had about you and him- at least physically. He plans to make sure you never have to feel unsure about him ever.

Something about Logan doing what he did solidified your decision, it wasn't just how the sex was great- but the way he desperately wanted to show you he cared- that he could take care of you, that he wanted to be apart of your life. He may have acted like he was in control, but every movement, every touch, kiss, thrust- felt like he was begging for you to keep him around. There was still things to talk about- such as the mutant thing, but your connection had officially solidified, as you felt you finally made a decision you can add to your list of 'good decisions'.

The next morning, you woke up in bed, wrapped in his arms. Fatigue plagued you, and you barely could feel your legs after the positions he’d managed to put you in- positions you didn’t even know existed. He woke from your shifting, eyes looking at you with adoration and a faint smile on his face.

“Morning doll.” He greets, voice low with an edge of sleep.

“Morning Lo.” You smiled, bringing your hand to his chest.

“You hungry?”

“Yeah.” You nod. He sat up, an arm still wrapped around your shoulder as he leaned over you.

“What d’ya want for breakfast?” He asks. You looked up at him with a raised brow, reminding him of your indecisiveness and he chuckled, a small shake of his head. “Alright. Alright. How about waffles?”

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fic #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #vans daydreams #wolverine smut #logan x curvy reader #this is the first time approaching a certain kink don't judge me #i have a few others in my drafts that are sooo much worse

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ippipo · 2 days ago

Text

self aware caleb? yummy

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

you were in deep concentration when you heard a grunt coming from your phone while studying with caleb. he was staring at you from the phone, which you assumed was a glitch in the game.

"caleb, honey, if you make sounds like that just as i finally concentrate i swear to god i'll throw you across the room," you threaten him playfully, totally unaware that he understood every word that you said.

you return to focusing on your textbook, trying to regain the ability to pay complete attention to it. his eyebrows pinch together. who was this girl, and why was he seeing her? he was unaware if you were danger or not, you did just threaten him.

he waited until he heard a ding, watching you sigh. "finally, i finished studying. let's get me some food," you speak to him, confusing him even more. "who are you?" he asks, his tone was cautious.

"what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?" you panic. you stare in all directions, blissfully ignorant to the device in your hand. you finally looked at your phone and caleb is closer to the screen now. "nah, i must be dreaming," you snicker and go to the kitchen.

he was annoyed now. "no, you are not," he confirms your suspicion. "caleb? what the fuck?"

"yeah, that's my name. who are you and why am I able to see you?" he asks you with more aggression this time. you read stories about these things but never really imagined them to happen. and you did what you thought you would do while reading them instead of freaking out. explain to him your world, of course. but you were so close to pissing your pants, partly from excitement. but this was a dream come true, were you really gonna waste it on some stupid sense of fear?

"this is gonna take a while, buddy. you might wanna sit down for this," you say with a sigh, motioning him to sit down.

you told him about your world, and how magic and superpowers don't exist and how he was in a game. it took you about an hour. he was attentive, listening to every word you were saying, not taking his eyes off of you.

"so....to summarise it up, i'm an otome game character and that girl from my childhood is not real either. just not aware?" he asks, you nod. "the creators are so cruel, man. why would they make a cool guy like me go through that?" he remarks, a grin etched onto his face despite the sadness behind that statement.

"i don't feel anything towards her now, though," he states while scratching his nape, feeling lost. "i guess you aren't my love interest anymore, aw." he remained quiet at that statement, wondering what happens now. sure, he was attracted to the person he was talking with right now. but wouldn't it end tragically if he were to fall for you?

pushing those thoughts aside, he was curious about the real world, "how are the people there?" he asks you. "they're......cruel. but the people around me now are pretty alright, i don't go out much because i prefer staying at home," you reply.

"cruel? how so?" he questions, unconvinced with your answer. he was expecting the world to be better, without deception and unfortunate circumstances. "for starters, women here are still struggling, being treated disgustingly, racism is more prevalent than ever, the nazis are somewhat back, some orange white capitalist dude is ruining an already ruined country, and everyone's suffering," you finally take a breath.

you watch caleb's conflicted expression, regretting info-dumping on him so much. "so it's the same like here," he trails off. "it's still as shitty as here," he completes.

"don't think so, your world seems slightly better. i think i would be scared of walking alone at night because of wanderers instead of men," you state. he felt bad for you, and a familiar protective feeling resurfaces, the one he was conditioned to feel for the girl in the game now felt for you.

it was weird how he no longer recognized whoever that was. "i feel like i know you more than the character in here," he confesses. "well, she's basically me. although the personality is different, her name and stuff is basically mine."

caleb sighs in relief. it brought him some comfort knowing you were controlling it, not him involuntarily falling for someone he didn't know consciously.

"this sucks, i would rather be there with you," he reveals. he probably didn't know that made your heart flutter just a teeny tiny bit. just a little bit. "don't say stuff like that," you warn him. "hm? why?"

"i've read stories like this and they always end painfully. you'll start wanting to be with me because of my amazing gorgeous personality and eventually we'll do the boom boom pow online. suddenly you'll wanna do it with me, then you'll visit me and you'll have to choose between that world or this world. then you'll realize this world sucks and you'll have to give up our love. you'll go along with the mc and i'll end up missing that ding-a-ling," a shit-eating grin made its way onto your face. you felt proud of yourself.

he suddenly starts laughing at the way you worded the whole thing. "you're really something," he says making you snort. "i won't fall in love with you, i'm not that dumb," he states. you ignore the soft clench in your heart.

"are you sure you can resist all this, baby?" you flip your hair and wink at him. he rubs his ears to hide the redness, which was an unusual movement because his character never did that.

"positive, baby," he flirts back. it was your time to blush now. you clear your throat in embarrassment, "wanna see me cook?" you look at him hopefully, wanting to show off your skills. "i'll cook along too," he says.

he moves to his kitchen, the view to you was like as if you were on a video call. the screen showing you things in the game you wouldn't normally be able to see.

you hear a knock on your front door. "hey, lemme just check that and come back," you tell him before going to the door. your neighbour wanted some salad dressing. he was a fairly tall, good looking guy. he was married though, and he carried his ring around everywhere.

caleb watches the stranger waltz into your kitchen. his brows furrow in discontent. he didn't like the idea of you letting in another man into your house. he pinches himself and finally snaps out of it. 'you just met her properly for the first time, loser. control.'

the neighbour thankfully doesn't notice the animated but realistic man on your phone glaring at him. "thanks," the man smiles at you and leaves your house. "who was that?" caleb finally asks the question he was itching to ask. "my neighbour, he's making salad for his husband," you casually mention, unaware of the relief he felt. he was married, perfect.

you turn your back towards the camera and bend down to pick up a spoon that fell earlier. your ass on full display to him, well, not exactly, you had some shorts on. you didn't realize it, despite being an incredibly self-aware person. but caleb got the biggest loser boner ever.

he shifts in his place uncomfortably. "caleb, are you okay?" you ask with concern. "yes, great actually," he skillfully covers it up with a cough. "just getting used to not following a script."

this was gonna take a while.

#lads caleb #love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #lnds caleb #caleb x reader #lads x reader #lads fluff #lads fanfic

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brujaluas · 2 days ago

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What is your love karma?

"Tell me all the ways to stay away"

"I'm hearing voices all the time and they're not mine"

"A thousand voices howling in my head"

(each sentence also represents a pile.)

Ok, I had mentioned some things here on the blog and this week I saw a reading that fits perfectly with everything about my love life and I thought I NEED to do something similar for my dear ones, so here is your love karma from a past life (I'm thinking about doing what karma you carry in this life, let me know if you want)

pile 1

hm I see you being from the same worlds but at the same time distant, it's as if the female figure had a vocation and it wasn't love, maybe the female energy needed to dedicate itself to studies or focus completely on its career, a profession. And it communicated in a furtive and silent way with another person (the person you loved), who could be a soulmate. But the male energy needed to live around other people, be in the spotlight, with many people looking at it, it's as if you couldn't stay in the same place, one would always have to live far from the other or have little time together. Wow, I did a reading about karma, but your story came up here. I think you may have a difficult love, cultural and social differences, having to live far away, many people disapproving of your relationship…

pile 2

Look, you may have been promised to someone. I see a heterosexual couple here. A man and a woman. You were promised to marry an older, richer man, not an old man with a cane, one of those disgusting types of a girl married to an old man. He wasn't that old, he was even charming, but had a considerable age difference. You played the typical role of a housewife, but you didn't like it, and you may have gotten involved with someone else (cheated), someone just like you, in appearance, age (hello Cersei Lannister, lol just joking people), and you knew that this love would be your end, your ruin, one of you in this poorly planned love triangle would die or fall very hard. Maybe for a portion of people, you ran away with your lovers, because they also had a lot to offer, not that you were self-interested, but those were different times, I see a very time, and unfortunately the only way for a woman to prosper in that era was to marry a man, I see you in a successful escape, but it's as if you had to go to a super distant place, like another country, or for some, your current husband took you far away but you never cut ties with your lover, you sent letters and communicated and so did he, even from a distance.

Wow, this reading was even more intense. In this life you can have unequal relationships, difficult relationships and often love triangles, lack of trust in the relationship.

pile 3

Widower. That was the first word I thought of when I saw it. You were in a relationship with a widow or divorced person. were a person with masculine energy. had children and a structure. were very loyal to their family. I see you as a kind of perdition. Some people won't like that, but in another life you were like a homewrecker. Someone who could work in a brothel, too. But that's something very specific to some people. You had a beautiful relationship, but you had many suitors. You attracted attention, perhaps because of your sensuality. "I don't belong to anyone." You had a very bohemian life and he tried to control it, taking you to his house, asking you to marry him or have a stable relationship, giving you gifts and turning you into a perfect housewife.

In this life you can bring people who want to control you all the time, especially because of your way of being. You still have that personality that you had in your past life, more that others piles, you are still very connected to that past life. It's as if you have this rebellious streak, this lack of shame in being beautiful and sexy, and people go crazy, especially men. There's a song by Cyndi Lauper that talks about this: "Men take pretty girls and hide them from the world." BE CAREFUL WITH CONTROLLING RELATIONSHIPS AND LUST. REMEMBER THAT IT'S OK TO BE LIKE THIS. MEN COULD BE WITH WHOEVER THEY WANT BEFORE MARRIAGE, WHILE WOMEN HAD TO STAY VERY PURE. THIS DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. DON'T BE ASHAMED. I needed to put it in caps because I feel that many who chose this pile have many problematic issues with themselves, they may have been pruned their entire lives, so listen carefully to each word in this pile. I always see a feeling of guilt in you, i see your soul, really.

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snowluvvie · 3 days ago

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₊˚⊹ ♡ . rafe cameron x apple pie!reader

Rafe didn’t understand what everybody was always running their mouth about when they said shit like “you’ll meet a nice girl” “you’ll wanna settle down” because, in his experience, nice girls were atrociously boring and no one he ever wanted to be around. He was sure he’d shack up with some bitch and get married and pump out a couple kids because he had to, because that’s what he was supposed to do, but not because he loved someone so much he wanted to

That was, until he met you.

You, with your gentle beauty and the way your hair was always so close to perfect but never quite. The pleated skirts and the way you always smelled of cinnamon and, faintly, soil. Warm as a kitchen at dawn, quiet except for your laugh, which was loud enough to scare the birds out of the forest.

The thing about girls with rickety front porches and warm hands, though, is that you have to be on their best behavior around them—that’s what Barry said, at last: “Man, she’s not gonna want your coked-up ass. That typa chick wants a dude who builds a fuckin’ fence and shit. They don’t like rich dudes. Give it up.”

And unfortunately, Rafe was pretty sure he was right. You mostly kept your head down when you walked, and no matter how many things he leaned against, or how many times he casually smoked a cigarette near you, he just couldn’t get you to look his direction—and if you did, you didn’t grant a second glance to his crisp white shirts or his backwards hat.

His crowning last-stitch move was when he made a big show of helping his dear sister carry her bag when she was walking down the dock—it looked heavy, he wouldn’t want her hurting herself! She’s family, after all! Sarah had tried to wrestle the bag back and she flipped him off after he put it onto the boat for her, but it’d already had the desired effect… your eyes lingered on him for a moment. Family was important, after all. You were the kinda girl who cared about those things.

When the two of you started going out, he felt like his life was spinning out of control and simultaneously clicking into place. You had expectations for him, real ones. And a lot of the time when you said shit like “I’m making dinner tonight, don’t be late” or “wash your hands” Rafe wanted to tell you to go fuck yourself, because you weren’t his damn mother—except when he looked over at you and saw your face, that wide-eyed, imploring look you always gave him, the words died in his throat. What the hell was wrong with him?

He’d do something nice for you and you’d nudge his arm. “What, you sweet on me or somethin’?” He’d wonder who even talks like that, it’s weird. Then he’d find himself grabbing your pretty face and kissing you so hard you think he might break your nose.

Rafe was so, so well behaved with you. He kept it together so nice, all his unstable shit wrapped up into a neat little package tied with ribbon. He acted as a guy who smiled semi-often, and said thank you sometimes, and maintained eye contact with you when he was fucking you—all things that were new and unfamiliar to him. When you told him what time dinner was, he came over in time. He kissed your forehead and he meant it. For you, he did it all. Barry had been right. You wanted a well-behaved guy, and Rafe wanted to watch the way your smile took over your face when you were happy and the ecstatic look on your face when you came, so he was well-behaved.

That was, until he wasn’t.

He was supposed to come over at nine. You would’ve just gotten out of the shower (or maybe you’d still be in, if he got lucky) and you’d put your cute little plaid PJs on, and you’d climb on top of him and put your weight on his chest while the two of you watched some 90’s movie. The movie would get boring in act three and he’d watch you ride him, and then he’d cum on your stomach like a gentleman, and the two of you would fall asleep wrapped up in eachother.

Instead of that carefully constructed, lovely, dreamy evening—Rafe showed up at nearly three in the morning, covered in blood.

He knew you’d be asleep, he’d have time to wash his face and toss his shirt in the trash can out back before climbing into your bed with you. He didn’t wanna go home. He wanted to press kisses to your throat and apologize for being late, swear that it would never happen again and then make it up to you in the morning by making you cum over and over in your crisp red plaid bedsheets.

Instead, he found you sitting on a stool in your living room, head leaned against the wall, eyes heavy with sleep. Waiting for him. Rafe froze like a deer in headlights and waited for the inevitable, for you to call him a psychopath and beat him off the property with a broom.

You didn’t. You didn’t speak, just led him to the bathroom and wiped the blood from his face, carded your fingers through his hair. Threw his clothes into the rattling washing machine with a tablespoon of hydrogen peroxide, and then let him crawl into bed with you anyway. The two of you were silent, and he slung an arm over you. You settled into the crook of his armpit and fell asleep with your face smushed against his bicep, and he felt something horrible and unfamiliar blooming in his chest.

You could never leave him, he decided. He wouldn’t allow it. He couldn’t survive that.

#thinking: rafe cameron ₊˚⊹ ♡#apple pie!reader #rafe cameron x apple pie!reader #rafe cameron x reader smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #rafe cameron x reader drabble #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you smut #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron x y/n

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aethon-recs · 7 hours ago

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40 Tomarrymort Recs for 2024 — Longfic Edition (Part 3)

Part 3 of 2024 recs! See below for a round-up of some of the most engaging multi-chaptered works/longfics that I came across in this ship in 2024 🤍

As with last year, I found each of these fics, in their depiction of the ship, to be a fresh or surprising take on our familiar beloved characters of Harry and Tom|Voldemort, with an emphasis on underrated fics and/or fics that made me think about the ship in some new way. It's amazing to me that even after 20+ years of writing in this ship, there are still so many new themes and tropes and angles to explore.

Criteria for this list: multi-chaptered, Tomarrymort-centric, with at least 1 update published in 2024.

Overall, for 2024, I've split up my year-end recs into 3 parts: (1) Completed Multi-Chapter Fics, (2) One-Shots, (3) WIPs. Here’s the link back to Part 1: Completed Multi-Chapter Fics with 30 fics and Part 2: One-Shots with 30 fics. And with these 40 fics, this wraps up 100 recs for Tomarrymort for 2024!

a cool drink of water by @zolpidem105 (E, 10k, WIP)

Harry Potter, an apprentice at Police Scotland, wakes up to find he’s not in his bed. "Awake? Excellent. We should get going," Tim?��Tom—says from the side, sounding far, far too alert for what Harry feels is catastrophically early in the morning.

A Simple Request by @shyinsunlight (E, 70k, WIP)

Harry can't sleep because of his neighbours' constant fighting, and he ends up falling asleep at work. Tom Riddle, CEO, is not particularly happy.

Accidents happen by @themothatyourdoor (T, 51k, WIP)

Harry must have been London's first accidental sugar daddy.

And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan (M, 114k, WIP)

When Tom looks at Harry, he feels nothing. Until he does, and then Harry’s world starts drowning in blood.

Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 30k, WIP)

Tom expects to feel victorious at his greatest enemy's confession. Instead, he develops a crush on him.

Auror Potter by @albondiguilla007 (E, 21k, WIP)

Harry Potter is done. He's been in the past for months now, working undercover. Enter Tom Riddle. Impulse control has never been a strong suit of Harry’s, and this mission is proving to be the most difficult one yet.

By Any Means by @corpium (E, 101k, WIP)

Harry Potter will do anything to protect his little brother, whether that means facing the Dursleys' wrath, dogging his brother's footsteps, or taking down the Dark Lord himself. Absolutely anything.

Crush by @chiocchi (T, 4 chapters, WIP)

Tom Riddle doesn't know what it's like to have a crush. So when his heart starts beating fast every time he sees Harry Potter, it can only mean one thing: His instincts are telling him that Harry Potter is a threat that must be eliminated.

Do It Over by @marrythemonstersao3 (T, 57k, WIP)

Harry wakes up on the morning of his eleventh birthday, ready to do things differently this time. He has no grand plans, just the instinct to be close to the man whose soul he shares.

draw me after you (let us run) by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 287k, WIP)

“Harry Potter,” comes the soft, sibilant hiss of a voice he has heard in his dreams, in his nightmares, in his waking hours for years. “It seems I have finally caught you.”

Echoes by @dracomort (M, 4k, WIP)

Across a thousand worlds, Harry and Tom find each other.

Embryo by @cannibalinc (NR, 112k, WIP)

This is Tom’s destiny, a King among men. No—a god. He need only rise to that which is his for the taking… if only one strange boy weren’t so determined to get in his way.

Hole in the Wall by @elddrmot (E, 77k, WIP)

Voldemort survives the final battle and is imprisoned in Azkaban. After a series of unfortunate events, Harry Potter ends up in the cell next to him.

Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (M, 90k, WIP)

Harry Potter is a time-travelling, furious mess, and he is going to kill the Dark Lord. Like most of his plans, things do not work out. Tom should not be so obsessed with his would-be murderer.

Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis (E, 595k, WIP)

When Harry Potter cast his first Cruciatus Curse, he was successful. In doing so, he awoke the darkness in his head. It whispers, and it's never wrong. The darkness is hungry, and won’t be denied.

Moon Rite by @isalisewrites (E, 15k, WIP)

Voldemort learned the truth: Harry was his horcrux. With a sudden offer of a ceasefire, the decades long war could be over - lives saved and protected - if Harry swore to one agreement: a magically binding marriage contract with Voldemort himself.

No Glory by @obsidianpen (E, 313k, WIP)

The Dark Lord divines what Harry Potter is in the Forbidden Forest, and revelations lead to incomprehensible consequences. Lord Voldemort has won... and the dystopia is damning.

Of Kings, of Pawns, and of Men by @ambivalens999 (E, 166k, WIP)

When Harry succumbs to dementors in Little Whinging, the last thing he expects is to wake and find Tom Riddle’s face staring back at him in the mirror. It only goes downhill from there.

of various storms and saints by MaidenMotherCrone (E, 36k, WIP)

“I am the last Lector. I am my people’s very last hope,” Harry bites out through the teeth of his fury. He is done throwing curses and spells. He is reduced to this, divine rage. And then, Voldemort is there, looming and dark and great and terrible. “And I will stamp it out.”

One Year In Every Ten by @saintsenara (E, 207k, WIP)

A decade after the final battle, just when the wizarding world thinks itself safe, a serial killer emerges, leaving a trail of dead women in his wake. Each of the bodies bears a gruesome message for the Aurors. A message which claims the Dark Lord has risen again.

Reckless Cartography by @meles-merrivale (M, 39k, WIP)

Featuring Harry and Tom attending Hogwarts together and slowly ruining each other’s lives.

Revolution of Configured Stars by @tollingreminiscentbells (E, 162k, WIP)

In another world, Harry Potter was spared. Raised in Lord Voldemort's Britain, he enters his seventh year wanting to keep his head down. But after a chance encounter with ‘Marvolo Gaunt’, it looks like it may not be so simple.

Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear (E, 70k, WIP)

The moment Harry is struck by the killing curse, it’s not death that awaits him, but ascension. A story of faith, obsession, and the burden of divinity.

Seaforth by @kippipies (M, 10k, WIP)

For as long as he can remember, Harry's had a normal life, looking after a precocious child named Tom on an isolated island. But everything in his normal life is shattered when he finds out a terrible truth: that a powerful leader called Voldemort is after him.

Seeing Sand by @valkyrie-chemist (T, 95k, WIP)

Anticipation bubbled in Tom’s stomach as he imagined fear and shock Harry’s green eyes. Eyes that snapped open the instant Tom's hand touched the frame of the hospital bed. Eyes that burned gold.

some like it hot by @duplicitywrites (E, 12k, WIP)

When Tom Riddle applies for an internship at the Ministry of Magic, he is assigned to the Department of Magical Fire Control and Containment, a department that boasts a very impressive headcount of one: Harry Potter.

Strings of Fate by @solelyseeking (E, 58k, WIP)

“When I touch you,” Tom says, bitterness clinging to every syllable, “I feel whole.” Harry might just be the first interesting thing that Tom has ever encountered.

Stygian by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 71k, WIP)

There's a book in Voldemort's private library that can explain this kind of magic. The cover is black and shiny and looks like it's breathing. Harry really wants to take a look at chapter three, no matter what it takes.

Tender Reigns Our Night by noumena (M, 103k, WIP)

Sent on a Ministry mission to fight for magic's survival, Harry goes back in time with two simple objectives: find and destroy any existing Horcruxes, and stop Tom Riddle ever evolving into Voldemort. Harry thus finds himself working alongside Riddle at Borgin and Burke's.

The Longing by @aglassroseneverfades (M, 41k, WIP)

What is possibly most damning of all is that Harry is not thinking of his parents right now as he trudges alongside his companions up to Voldemort’s eerie castle. He is thinking instead, as he often does, of a name that burns too brightly on his wrist in the pre-dawn light.

The Runemaster by @kazisstillawake (E, 43k, WIP)

Harry trips on a rock and leaps through time. 1940s Hogwarts is very different from the home he is familiar with. To make matters worse, he is dumped into Slytherin – Riddle’s territory. But it’s hard to be invisible when you’re a novelty, a new student that knows too much for your own good.

the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 47k, WIP)

Harry is sent through time to the relative safety of 1963 and adopted into the Potter family. Now he’s entering his sixth year at Hogwarts in 1976, with a war brewing just outside the school walls. The last thing he needs is to catch the attention of the rising Dark Lord.

The Unintentional Consequences of Prison Reform by @badluck (E, 28k, WIP)

Harry Potter, newly licensed Mind Healer, puts personal history aside to take on his hardest job yet. “Talk to me, please. Give me a chance to make you better.” Lord Voldemort looks downright murderous.

The Word of Your Body by @ictyn (E, 7k, WIP)

“Have you heard from him?” Albus asks. He only means one person when he asks Harry this question. He’s asked it five times in twenty years, and the answer is always the same. The only thing he knows about Tom is that he’s not dead. Harry would know if that happened. He’d feel it beating inside his heart, inside of his very soul.

Timeless by @perhaps-sunlight (E, 3k, WIP)

In which Master of Death Harry Potter time travels to the 1940s, only fixing Tom Riddle isn’t quite what he had in mind.

To the Hilt by @izharmilgram (E, 28k, WIP)

Voldemort had trusted him with the task of bringing Prince Gryffindor under his control, thus securing the future of Gryffindor within their hands. Tom would do so easily—the prince was a mere omega, docile and sweet, easily swayed—and then Gryffindor Kingdom would be folded into the Slytherin Dynasty. He would prove himself undoubtedly useful, and Voldemort would finally let him rule at his side.

Venom or Valor by @lightningant (M, 52k, WIP)

20 years old and unemployed, Harry decides to use a time turner to travel to 1946. But what he finds isn’t the proud, charismatic Dark-Lord-To-Be, but a neurotic 19-year-old Tom Riddle living quietly in the tiny flat that his retail job barely pays for, isolated and addled by chronic illness.

we made universes out of bitten lips and broken hands by @boyneptunee (M, 68k, WIP)

Seer Harry who tries to write his own future, fuck prophesies and mastermind darklords and evil teachers. He will live his life, and he will enjoy it, dammit. Oh, and there's also Tom Riddle.

What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes (M, 80k, WIP)

There was a new transfer student, Tom observed at the Start-of-Term Feast as he idly twisted the Gaunt ring around his finger. Featuring a schoolboy on the precipice of becoming a monster, a powerful and mysterious newcomer to Hogwarts, and an initial spark of interest that becomes an obsession.

With a resolute heart by Act_Naturally (M, 243k, WIP)

Triwizard Tournament, but Hunger Games: Tom Riddle needs to win to fulfill his plans. Cedric Diggory wants to make his family proud. Hermione wants her friends to survive. Harry wants a lot of things, including Tom Riddle.

you speak of the devil (like he's not your friend) by @amuria (M, 64k, WIP)

When Harry wakes a seventeen-year-old Tom Riddle from the Gaunt's Ring, it is to a world where his future self has achieved none of their goals except one. Harry is proof that he's a great wizard after all.

#tomarry #harrymort #tomarrymort #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #hp fic recs #longfic recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #harrymort recs #2024 reads #2024 recs

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fluff-lover · 2 days ago

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Healing Touch | Chapter 6: Healed hearts

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

A/N: It's finally here! The final chapter! If you've made it this far, I wanted to say thank you for reading!!

There are no warnings for this chapter I guess, it's just pure fluff (with a tiny little bit of angst)

Masterlist

The mansion was unusually quiet when you and Logan arrived late that evening: no students running through the halls, no sounds of laughter or training in the yard. With the students on vacation and Jean and Scott away on their honeymoon, there really wasn’t much to do around.

“You’re back!” Ororo said from the staircase as she made her way to you. “We missed you!” She added while hugging you.

“Hi Ro.” You said hugging her back. “It’s good to be back home.”

“How was the trip?” She asked.

“I’ll take the suitcases upstairs.” Logan suddenly said before leaving the two of you alone.

Ororo frowned.

“Is he okay?” She whispered and you nodded your head.

“Yeah, don’t worry about him. The trip was… eventful, to say the least. He learned a lot about himself and his past. But you know how he is, he doesn’t talk much about himself. I think he’ll tell you about it eventually, once he’s ready.” You explained.

“What about you?” She asked.

“What about me?”

“Did you have a pleasant trip?”

You had to hold yourself back from giggling like a schoolgirl. You wanted so much to tell her about everything, about Logan and you getting together, but you still hadn’t had the “what are we?” talk with Logan.

“It was… really good.” You smiled. Ororo gave you a suspicious look, but didn’t press.

Logan waited for you in your bedroom after dropping by your suitcase. The second you stepped in he closed the door and kissed you. You smiled against his lips and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Did you tell her about us?” He asked.

“No, I didn’t but I think she suspects something. Should we tell her and the others?” You asked.

Logan shook his head.

“Not right now. I like the idea of us having something just for ourselves.” He smiled and nuzzled your nose.

“You’re not embarrassed of me, are you?” you asked. It was supposed to be a joke, but deep down there was always a little bit of doubt. Logan pulled back with a frown.

“Are you for real right now?” He asked in disbelief. You shrugged and pouted cutely.

“No, but it’s nice to be reassured.”

Logan rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m not embarrassed and I don’t mind people knowing. You’re free to tell your friends.” Logan said. “I just don’t want to jinx it, you know? this is so recent I don’t want to rush into things and mess it up.” he confessed.

His words made you smile, but it was the vulnerable look in his eyes that made you melt in his arms. You knew he wasn’t the relationship type of man, so this was probably uncharted territory for him, even after 200 years.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You bit your lower lip and caressed his cheek. “Can you stay for a little bit?” You asked wiggling your eyebrows. Logan smirked.

“Baby, I’d stay until you kick me out.” He said before picking you up and taking you to the bed, you giggled and kicked your feet in the air all the way.

With the students on break, you and Logan found yourselves with a rare taste of freedom. You returned to the hospital to volunteer, but you also started visiting places like a nursing home, offering your powers to those who needed it most. Logan, meanwhile, kept an eye on the few kids who had stayed behind: unfortunately, not all of them had homes to return to for the holidays. When he wasn’t looking after them, he’d take the occasional motorcycle ride to clear his head.

You would share short little moments and maybe a kiss or two when no one was watching, but at night Logan would sneak into your bedroom for some alone time. Your relationship was developing into something sweet and comforting and you couldn’t remember the last time you were this happy. It was scary how fast you fell for Logan. You were nowhere near ready to tell him you loved him, not because you didn’t love him, but because you didn’t want to scare him away. In the meantime you showed your affection in other ways and you were planning a little surprise for him: you were in the process of getting his father’s watch fixed.

One evening, he invited you along for a ride on his bike. The two of you ended up at a diner just outside of town. It was everything you could hope for on a date: burgers, milkshakes, and a slice of pie for dessert. Sitting together in a cozy booth, his arm draped casually over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel like a teenager out with your crush. The ease of his company, the quiet way he glanced at you when he thought you weren’t looking, it all made your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

By the time you returned to the mansion, the world was dark and quiet. You expected everyone to be asleep, but as you quietly pushed the door open, Ororo was waiting for you in the hallway, arms crossed and a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“And where, pray tell, have you two been?” she asked, her tone laced with teasing amusement. Logan barely missed a beat.

“What are you, my mother?” he shot back, his signature gruffness unable to hide the slight smirk tugging at his lips.

You bit back a laugh, shaking your head as Ororo chuckled softly. “Just making sure you weren’t up to too much trouble.”

“We went out for a bite. I never rode a bike before so I asked Logan if it was okay for him to take me.” You said, which wasn’t entirely untrue.

“Mhmmm…” Ro arched an eyebrow giving you both an unimpressed look. “Right, well, it’s late so off to bed the two of you.”

“Again, not my mother.” Logan said annoyed. You chuckled and shook your head.

“Thanks for the ride, Logan! Good night!” You said before heading to the staircase.

“My pleasure, Angel.” He replied with a fond smile.

Ororo narrowed her eyes, she had only ever seen that look on Logan’s face before, and it was when he looked at Jean.

“You two are onto something and I will find out soon enough.” She said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Logan said before quickly walking away so she wouldn’t see the goofy smile on his face.

Only ten minutes later Logan was sneaking out of his room and into yours, catching you by surprise halfway through your nightly routine.

“Logan! Jesus! I didn’t expect you until later!” You said embarrassed. You had a fluffy headband you used when you washed your face, you wore ratty clothes instead of the sexy nightgown you planned to wear that night, and had under-eyes masks on.

Logan chuckled and pulled you closer.

“So this is what you’re up to before I come here, uh?”

You groaned and hid your face on his chest.

“I have to make myself pretty for you.” You mumbled.

“Oh baby,” He cooed. “You’re always pretty to me. Beautiful. Gorgeous.” He kissed the top of your head. You smiled, your face warming up.

“And you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” You said before walking him to your bed. “Tonight was so nice! I like our little getaways.”

Logan chuckled.

“We should do it more often, although Ororo will definitely catch on.” He said as he sat down at the foot of your bed.

“And here I thought Charles was the mind reader.” You joked. “Maybe we’re being too obvious?” Logan pulled you closer so you were standing between his legs.

“Nah, she’s just being nosy… Now, no more talking about Ro, I came here to see my little angel.”

You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes and hummed happily.

“I’m glad to see you’re not tired of me yet.” You joked.

“Never.” He pulled you even closer and you leaned to kiss him.

“Let me finish getting ready and we’ll continue this.” You said with a playful tone. Logan shook his head and held you tighter.

“All this sneaking around makes me wanna enjoy every second I have with you.” He said before throwing you on the bed.

Under-eye masks be damned.

He had a good point: your time together was limited. Logan still opted to sleep alone in his own room. Both of you longed to share a bed, wrapped in each other's arms, but his fear of accidentally hurting you during a nightmare was too big to ignore.

However, saying goodnight was becoming increasingly difficult and each night took longer. You clung to Logan and begged him not to leave your bed for at least five more minutes. Those five minutes usually turned into an hour and you only let him go when you were already asleep.

Tonight wasn’t any different. Logan said goodnight with several kisses and caresses on your sleepy face before quietly stepping out of the room. He had to be very quiet not to wake up anyone and create suspicions.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” Logan jumped and turned around, finding Ororo at the end of the hall with a glass of milk in her hand and a smug look on her face.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…” Logan sighed.

You and Logan sat on one side of the table, while Ororo, Rogue, and Kitty sat across from you. Breakfast had been served, but no one was eating. On one hand, you felt like a kid about to be lectured by your parents; on the other, it was as if you were about to be interrogated by the FBI. The tension in the air was palpable, sharp and heavy, like the moments before defusing a bomb.

“Is this really necessary?” Logan asked.

“Yes!” Both Rogue and Kitty replied.

“Fine.” He grumbled. “Let’s get over this, what do you wanna know?”

“Everything!” Rogue answered as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Let’s start from the beginning.” Ororo said with her arms folded over the table. “When did you start seeing each other?”

“During our trip to Canada.” You said.

“And?” Kitty pushed.

“And… what?” Logan asked.

“How did it start? Who kissed who first?” Rogue said.

“Was it snowing? Was it romantic?” Kitty added.

“Was it a “long time coming” type of thing? Or was it an impulse?” Rogue added.

“Whoa, girls, that’s a lot of questions.” You said.

“Not to mention, very personal.” Logan added. You felt bad for him, this was clearly not how he wanted people to know.

“All you need to know is that Logan was a perfect gentleman during our first kiss.” You said. “And that’s all I’ll say about that.”

Logan glanced at you, but you found him hard to read. Was he satisfied by your answer? Or was he mad that you indulge them? You couldn’t tell.

“Alright, that’s good… for now.” Ororo said. “Let’s skip to the important stuff.”

“Oh lord…” You were terrified.

“Are you guys in a relationship? Or are you just fooling around?” She asked.

“That’s none of your business.” Logan hissed. And he was 100% right, but a small part of you hoped he would confirm your relationship status.

“Guys, this is all very recent, we’re still figuring things out ourselves.” You said, trying to defuse the situation.

“We’re only asking because we love you and we want to see you happy.” Rogue said while pointedly looking at Logan.

“We’re fine.” Logan said, which wasn’t much of an answer.

“Then why are you sneaking around? You left her room in the middle of the night, that sounds like just fooling around to me.” Ororo pressed.

Logan suddenly got up, his chair scratching the floor loudly and making you flinch. Clearly Ororo pushed too hard on a touchy subject.

“That’s enough.” Logan said before walking out of the room. He didn’t want them to know he was afraid of falling asleep next to you. He felt vulnerable enough as everyone knew about the night he stabbed you.

You watched him walk away with a heaviness in your chest. When you turned back you had all three women looking at you expectantly.

“Logan is right. This is a private matter we shouldn’t be discussing with anyone but each other.” You gave Ororo a look. “I told you he would talk once he’s ready. Now he may close off again.” You sighed tiredly.

“What about you, though?” Rogue asked. You looked at her confused.

“What about me?”

“We care about you too.” Ororo said. “Logan can be… well, difficult. You spend so much time caring for him, helping him with his memory… is it worth it? I mean, he sneaks out of your bedroom at night, why is that?”

Now you understand why Logan was so upset. The implication that your partner wasn’t good enough for you, or that you weren’t happy in the relationship, was overstepping.

“Not that it is any of your business, but he insists on sleeping on his own bed because he’s too afraid of hurting me again.” You explained. The girls shared a look as they remembered that fateful night. “This is the happiest I’ve ever been and I don’t need anyone mendling in my business. If I ever need your help or want your opinion, I’ll let you know.” You said before getting up from the chair and walking out.

The rest of the morning felt heavy after the breakfast interrogation. You couldn’t help but replay Logan’s abrupt exit in your mind. Was Logan upset that everyone knew? Was he embarrassed? Did this mean you weren’t something serious after all? You clung to the conversations you had before where he reassured you, but doubt kept you on edge.

Lost in your thoughts you made your way to your usual bench. The fresh morning air soothed you a little bit, and you felt like you could think a little bit clearer. This is where Logan found you.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gruff but tinged with concern.

“I guess… What about you? You looked really upset.”

Logan sighed, sitting next to you on the bench.

“They had no right to pry like that.” he said.

“They were out of line,” you agreed. “But… I think they got to my head. I can’t help wondering. Are we… serious? I mean, what are we?” You mentally braced for his response.

“You’re serious to me,” he said firmly, leaving no room for doubt. “You think I’d go through all this sneakin’ around for just anyone? You’re my girl.” He took your hand. “My little angel.”

You thought you would melt there and then, your heart exploded with happiness.

“Only yours.” You smiled. “No more sneaking around, okay? We can continue sleeping in separate rooms, but I don’t want to hide the fact that we’re together.”

“I’m okay with that.” Logan nodded.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect us to make out like horny teenagers in the hall or the classrooms. We still need to act like teachers in front of our students.” You said and Logan laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulders.

You smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.

You were officially Logan’s girl.

As expected Logan arrived at your bedroom after dinner, ready for your usual nightly routine. Despite sleeping in his own bedroom, you noticed bits and pieces of him scattered in your room: he had a toothbrush and a bottle of cologne in your bathroom, there was a pair of clean socks and underwear in your dresser; a flask and an ashtray in case he wanted a drink or to smoke after sex, which happened pretty much every night…

You loved it. You loved knowing Logan felt safe and comfortable with you.

Later on you rested your naked body on top of his, a light sheen of sweat covering both of you after some intense activities. Logan was the best lover you had. Not only he focused on your pleasure over his, but he was also very creative in the bedroom. At first you felt a little bit embarrassed that you weren’t as adventurous as he was, and you were a bit shy, but Logan was more than eager to help you explore your body and find what you liked best. He never pushed too hard and he always reassured you there was nothing wrong with liking sex or enjoying your sexuality.

He really was the best you ever had. In every sense of the word.

So there you were, hair all messy, sheets pooling around your legs, his hands tracing lightly on your back, when you remembered something.

“I have something for you,” you said as you sat up on the bed and reached for something on your bedside table. Logan sat up and leaned against the headboard, curious to see what you got.

You pulled out a little box neatly wrapped with a silver bow on top and handed it to him. Logan took it and hesitated to open it.

“What’s the occasion? I didn’t get you anything.”

You giggled.

“No occasion, it’s not a big deal. Come on, open it.”

What Logan didn’t know is that you took his father’s watch to a clocksmith and got it fixed.

When he unwrapped it and saw the watch his expression softened in a way that made your heart ache.

“My father’s watch…” he murmured, running his thumb over the polished surface.

“I got it fixed for you,” you said quietly. “I thought maybe it’d be nice to have something of his, you know, now that you’re remembering more about him.”

Logan sat there in silence for so long you started to worry you’ve done something wrong. But then he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly.

“You’re something else, baby” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

When he pulled back, you caressed his cheek.

“I just want you to be happy, Logan.”

He smiled and kissed you softly.

“I am. I really am, for the first time in a long time.”

You laid back down on the bed and watched as Logan traced his thumb over the watch lovingly.

“You know… I have a bone to pick with you.” He suddenly said. You frowned and looked up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“You lied to me.” Logan replied and you jumped on the bed, quickly sitting up.

“What are you talking about?” You asked worriedly. Logan simply chuckled which only confused even more.

“A while back you told me that the only thing you couldn’t heal was a broken heart.” He said, a soft look in his eyes. You remembered that conversation, it was the night Scott and Jean got engaged and you were trying to comfort Logan despite your own heartache. “You lied.” Logan continued. “You healed mine. Thank you.”

Tears pooled in your eyes, overwhelmed by his tenderness.

“And you healed mine.” you whispered. Logan caressed your cheek and wiped a tear away.

“I’m not good at this kinda thing, but… I love you. I really do.”

Your breath hitched at the confession.

“I love you, too.” You leaned down and kissed him. “And just so you know, you’re much better than you give yourself credit for.”

Too happy and excited to sleep, you two stayed up talking almost the entire night. Eventually you reached the subject of his memory since there was still work to do.

“So, what’s next in recovering your memories?” You asked. Logan exhaled, his chin resting lightly on your head.

“After Alberta?...” Logan sighed. “Madripoor.”

“Madripoor,” you repeated softly. “Sounds interesting.”

“Oh you have no idea.” Logan chuckled lightly, his breath warm against your hair.

“I’ll start with the preparations in the morning.” you said before closing your eyes and snuggling more onto him.

Logan fell asleep shortly after you, forgetting completely about going back to his own room. He never wanted to sleep in another bed without you.

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mawlbone · 2 days ago

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not on theme but what if......

pregnant ghost, pregnant nikto? pregnant krueger?????????

(i need them pregante)

WADDLE - GHOST, NIKTO, KREGUER

SNIPPET: A little peek into the domestic lives of these soldiers and their partners learning to adapt with a little one on the way.

[CW: amab reader, afab characters, and afab terminology usage, no reader’s pronouns mentioned, trans pregnancy, anxiety attacks, vomiting, cramps, slight rutting, and implied sex, and physical and mental health issues mention.]

[COMMENT: Thank you for the request! Sorry about writing this so late, I wish to do the shorter asks to clean up my drafts because I am mentally exhausted everyone. Also since I already wrote about pregnant Nikto in “Cracked Cradles”, I advise new readers to read that to get some context for his part. And special thanks to fish for giving me more brainrot for everyone. And there is angst because unfortunately these men are so miserable.]

Before the deep dive, there will be a lot of personal headcanons and thoughts given to each character that I will discuss before divulging into the ask to give more context as to how they will act during pregnancy in the order above. But I will TRY to keep it short and do a whole post about it later to save you the trouble! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

For all what is considered “Simon” or “Ghost”, I wholeheartedly believe at the end of the day, he’s the kindest character in COD because of his upbringing and how he treats people he feels personally responsible for.

If you look back in the Modern Warfare 2: Ghost “Dead Life”, a lot of details are dropped of his childhood such as his father’s abuse, Tommy’s bullying and drug addiction later in life, and how it was only really having his mother defending him from everyone else. In this type of environment, it’s quite easy, hell even understandable for someone to become resentful and lash out. I won’t blame him if one of his main reasons to joining the Air Force was to escape the house once he was old enough.

But despite having to come home to his mother’s distress after his service to the news of Tommy’s newfound drug addiction and stealing to further fund it… He decides to take a long break and still decide to take care of the boy, now man that once too contributed to his troubles along with his father and get Tommy help and kick his father out of the house and declare he’ll be the one taking responsibility for them now as simply Simon.

He’s rational, he understands that his father is the root of everyone’s troubles such as introducing Tommy to drugs in the first place and constantly distressing his mother with his infidelity. And people may think this show of selflessness is only in 09’ Ghost but even 22’ Ghost, he is quite caring such as constantly joking with Soap with his dry ass humor to lighten up the tension during operations. Even dropping his professionalism when worrying about his sergeant during that specific scene when Soap collapses and didn’t hear a response from him with such a soft tone. All of that as if the nickname, “Johnny” wasn’t enough haha as Ghost too. Simon’s kindness never left him even after all his trauma.

He’s such a sweet boy.

Nikto and Krueger, while there is not a lot of detail for both of them canonically, I cry miserably at this, I do imagine both of them led quite lonely childhoods and joined armed service to find some purpose in their life. If not, possibly having some passive suicidal behaviors that never got really checked for their psych evaluation because the higher ups just need bodies at the end of the day to train, not humans.

Look, Nikto is considered still so useful and effective that the bosses declare him too valuable to waste which is scary to think about, so I won’t be surprised if Kreuger has some issues of his own that he keeps covered underneath that mask of his. I’ll write a whole analysis for them later too like Simon’s because I love them too! But this is already getting too long, so hope you enjoy domestic life with them.

Ghost

Being with Ghost means that you will have to deal with death constantly at the steps of your door with the life he leads. So he will be the type of person who absolutely will refuse to get pregnant unless he’s retired or has some 30 step plan in place to keep himself safe during it. Listen, he’s older and more experienced now, therefore that means he made a lot of new enemies and he already lost his family once, please don’t make him go through it again with you.

Though it doesn’t stop him from contemplating the family life with you still whenever he sees a family on the streets while you’re out on a walk together, it makes not exactly bitter, but somber if more so than anything wondering if he’s depriving you of that type of joy. He really likes his job, it practically defines him but staying at home and having a family again sounds a bit too good for now.

When he does get pregnant eventually after years of reassurance from you and preparation with the help of Price and Laswell to help him conceal his identity even further and moving somewhere quiet, Ghost will desperately try to be at peace throughout the duration of his pregnancy because he doesn’t want the baby to suffer from all his mood swings, and have issues because of all his hormones screwing with him.

Alongside this point, I do think the Rileys has a history of mental troubles and the last thing Ghost will want is to carry it down further to his baby. It’s not exactly that he’ll hate his child or his late family if they do inherit it but he will rather they led a much more happier life than he did without feeling like a burden all because he was greedy to have a family again.

He’ll heavily latch himself onto you whenever a nasty thought keeps cracking against his head. Getting all insecure and dealing with horrible intrusive thoughts wondering if he’ll repeat his father’s cycle of abuse onto his baby, it doesn’t help that he already looks so much like him. He will probably beg the baby to look more like you than him because the thought of seeing a resemblance to younger him makes him ill enough to lose any appetite for the rest of the day.

But months of watching you kissing and talking to the bump all while praising him for practically just existing makes his heart feel lighter about the matter when you stroke over his stretched skin and tell him how gorgeous he is still. His favorite however, that makes his heart unbearably warm is when he wakes up in the morning to see your sleepy head pressed against his tummy cuddling into the baby unconscious every time without fail. He doesn’t tell you about the countless photos he took of that moment with the golden light bathing you in warmth and illuminating that shiny ring on your finger.

During the pregnancy phase, you’ll have to move your shared bed to the corner of the room so he can feel safe while sleeping with the wall and you pressed again him, protecting and keeping the baby and him warm from the outside world. One of the many little things you had prepared for him to sooth his worries and insomnia, and when it gets so bad due to your husband’s anxiety, you’ll resort to taking Ghost into the car and driving endlessly throughout the night on long roads and around neighborhoods until the ride lulls him back to the gentle embrace of sleep fogs over his eyes once more. A large helping of sticky toffee pudding also gets him at ease enough to rest happily with how much he been craving sweets lately to end off dinner.

He becomes much more relaxed as he gets further along his pregnancy after his mind becomes more secure, just ditching the pants and wearing loose shorts and shirts around the house because he had enough dealing with soiled clothes due to his leaky chest and numerous bathroom runs because the child keeps kicking onto his bladder to annoy him for not giving her enough attention or when they just miss you too.

So you’ll have to deal with grumpy Ghost who become more needy and squirming to fit underneath your shirt to feel you skin to skin with him, badgering you to help him with his aches because it’s too uncomfortable and he’s tired! He becomes much more playful and all smiles when you decide to work from home so you can watch over him during the last few weeks until his due date. Long slow days where you get to see him sleep more and become louder, already preparing dad jokes and all that jazz.

But it’ll only be his misfortune one day when he laughed too hard at his own lame joke, leading his water to suddenly burst like a broken dam as you watched in pure dismay, as you lead him out the door with the bags to the base’s hospital with your now sheepish husband.

Nikto

Personally, Nikto in my interpretation has endometriosis and therefore has much more issues with getting pregnant in the first place with the additional pain onto him. So in “Crackled Cradles”, it was basically luck that he was able to get his daughter in the first place with more than enough affection to heal his pain away with the amount of pampering he gotten while pregnant.

With the newest addition in the family now, he’s perfectly content with you being out of his sight while he’s bonding with his baby and doing some housekeeping when you’re stuck in your home office for hours on end, just crying to yourself silently that you cannot be with Nikto despite only being a few rooms away because you have deadlines to meet. But hearing the happy cries and the warm raspy voice of your precious family just outside your door motivates you enough to continue on, even if you have to endure the droning old instructions that your superiors have to repeat continuously.

Days where he peeks into your office to drop off lunch and for some kisses or hearing your daughter crashing in on her walker babbling for some attention from you too, only for her to be dragged back outside as her protests fade away by Nikto’s hand dragging her car back outside.

Even with the abundance of affection, that doesn’t stop him from constantly pawing at your pants though as he whines and demands for another baby from you. You’ll find him begging, all teary eyed for one during his birthdays, anniversaries and even during the holidays because he wants more little you’s running around the cottage. It makes you sigh at his baby fever, especially when it gets the worst during his periods as he drag his bottom against your thigh to relieve his aches, trying to tempt you into knocking him up again, praying for hopefully more than one this time. He became so greedy and it’s your fault that he became like this after keeping him all sweet and warm, so take responsibility why don’t you?

If you wish to be mean to him, you can put on a condom on last minute to ease his aches and watch him sob when he feels rubber instead of you as he curses you for being to horrible to him. Thrashing and scratching up your back because while you’re relieving all of his bad aches, he truly wants another baby so he doesn’t get lonely too once you two grow old, he doesn’t like the idea of an empty nest in the next few decades.

So you shouldn’t be surprised the next night after tucking your daughter to sleep when you have to face your dear husband sitting atop of your bed, glaring at you to kill you twice before you turn your head to see his knife embedded into the empty box of condoms besides him. “Do it properly this time”, you’ll hear him growl as you feel cold sweat begin to drip down your back. It’s not exactly that you wanted to be mean to him, it’s that you will rather save him from the heartache since he’s already at a high risk during pregnancy. But you feel that’s too late to say as you watch Nikto begin to stalk towards you.

It’ll only be a few months later when you are met with a positive pregnancy test in your hand with Nikto with a smile so smug, he practically looks like the cat that ate the canary. You should had already learned to never mess with a dedicated soldier, especially if you are married to one. You don’t exactly have the heart to scold him gently that day for risking his health once again when he’s beaming so brightly at his bump once again.

You decide to hold it in and now just enjoy watching your daughter sleep in between her father’s legs for nap time, trying her best to lay her head as light as possible on her sibling when you came out of your office to check up on them, worried about the long silence for too long before joining their cuddle pile. You’ll take any chance for them to rest, as you gathered more cushions surround them as you continuously had to guide Nikto to go nap as well after spending too much time making matching clothes for the baby already.

Though his skin is already marred with heavy scars from the torture he had experienced, it’s not exactly he’s insecure of them much anymore with the new stretch marks littering about his arms and thighs after his first pregnancy when you made no shame in showing your appreciating by smoothing over the leftover flap of his stomach and helping him bathe and taking over his scarred skin. It makes him feel satisfied with this new life, even if he’s reduced to be more “harmless” now.

He doesn’t get what you mean when you say he looks “beautiful” when he feels all sweaty and disgusting from the labors of pain, but all that matters is the opinions of his children and you in his life, so he’s quite content even if it gets a bit busy and you have to work overtime sometimes to free your weekends to spend time with them, but life is good. He’ll have to get a bigger bed soon to fit everyone later and perhaps do some renovations on the cottage later.

Kreuger

For all what is known and isn’t known about the ever changing operator, under cold lights and the sturdiness of his form, he’s ever so reflective in the way those tiny green toy soldiers. You’ll watch dark beady eyes gaze upon you when he comes crashing into your clinic. And there you’ll become fascinated with the way his back muscles fold under your hands like cheap plastic. There’s no label for this, that’s just how it works between you, him, and the silence that envelopes you all into nothingness in the long quiet. So as long as no one knows what happens behind the closed doors of your office, this standstill will continue between you and him. Even when the heat becomes unbearably nauseating when teeth meet flesh.

It’s a familiar tango, there’s no rush for you to evade the cloak he surrounds himself with. Always rummaging through your file cabinets to help himself to your snacks, you had since learned to order more of his favorites for him. Greedy bastard… He’s cute enough to get away with it when he sleeps so soundly atop of you, with his head buried within your neck or in one of the clinic’s bed while you work. But you had been getting a bit worried with how he’ll been more sleepier nowadays. You’ll get an answer a few days later when you hear the familiar sounds of boots hitting tiles, only to be jolted at your disgruntled partner staring at you before sliding the positive test onto your desk.

There’s very little things that Kreuger can keep himself attached to. Constantly switching jobs and names entirely, except for skin and bones. It’s a shame that he keeps resting from his loneliness, he rather not open himself up for a knife to be rammed inside his chest. So forgive him if he’s a bit awkward, foolish at worst with how he tries to talk without sounding like an automated machine. He rather not leave himself all exposed but years of exposure under your hands left him trusting enough to tell you. If he wasn’t, he would’ve ran away long ago.

Arrangements had to be made immediately for him as he heavily insisted on keeping his career and the baby, but it’s fine, you had already understood this long ago when he first begin crashing into your life. Kreuger had always been adamant on having the freedom to move around, so if anything, it’s quite nice to see him more standstill if anything, all curled up and hogging the sheets. You’ll deal with the earful from your superiors later for taking him off the field for a bit.

And with how elusive Krueger is, it shouldn’t be a surprise that his pregnancy is too a mystery as you held his practically nonexistent bump. Feeling over the alabaster skin, you’ll move your hands to his newly formed love handles instead and squish the side of your hips as he complains about how much your child had been squeezing itself into the back of his stomach and them giving him back pains. You’ll laugh though when you gently poke the child to feel them and watch as they push against your hand all annoyed for bothering them. Before Kreuger deciding to grab your own to hold instead.

He’ll heavily complain about how clumsy he feels nowadays, unlike his agileness before, he more or less been could be taken as a penguin on olive oil with how much he has to hold himself onto you now. It makes him unbearably angry sometimes with how bad his legs cramp up and you’re not there to hold him. He doesn’t like anyone else touching him and he already shuns away from most of the base anyways, thankfully his silence is enough to scare most people off anyways. So you’ll try your best to massage his aches away and help him tidy up his scruff when he becomes too tired to do anything.

Eventually when he reaches his third trimester, you relocated him back to your home with him to be more comfortably situated. No longer is he confined to the cafeteria’s slop or your cabinet to fulfill his strange addictions. Here in your kitchen, he can thrive on making his fancy little sandwiches with all types of breads, cheeses, and jams filling up your cabinets now. And other small finger foods like hard pretzels to eat throughout the day. He would rather not deal with the nausea from a full stomach nowadays. But the child seems to be delighted by the taste of apple juice nowadays as Kreuger bemoans about how they are the most active whenever he’s drunk some to satisfy his cravings and kicking him excitedly before resorting back to his spine out of all places.

Desperately needs some quiet or ambient music playing whenever he goes because he doesn’t look the fogginess of his brain screwing with him and despises vomiting, so often you’ll have some gum of smelling salts for him to cool down. It leaves him a little too raw for him to deal on a regular basis. You regularly go on your knees to massage his swollen feet and put socks on for him when he cannot anymore.

While Kreuger huffs and puffs all he wants about the pain, you’ll hear him speak little endearments to the child and catch him sleeping outside with a blanket over his stomach in a porch’s chair, letting the cool evening breeze rock him to sleep. You decide to make yourself cozy and settle beside him in another chair, watching how soften his face had become without the harsh lines of anger and that net casting his face into obscurity. His face become more rounded now, sharp lines turned puffy from sleep and more weight holding onto him. He’s more human than he ever been, no longer that statuesque toy soldier you once knew before. The moment would had been endearing if it wasn’t for Kreuger’s noisy snoring scaring away the birds.

Even with a few rough patches here and there, you’ll watch Kreuger pace around the house carefully as he holds his bump and asking you to rearrange the nursery around to fit his preference. With full drawers and the sight of your sleepy husband partaking in this joy of picking out what he wishes is peaceful. You’ll have to hire someone to help you both for the birth later with how Kreuger’s lack of identity will cause trouble for the baby later, but in the present moment, you’ll simply partake in watching your man trying to choose between the two different floral sheets to align the crib with.

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marzipanandminutiae · 2 days ago

Text

so the woman who sent me her grandmother's doll has also been sending me images of her grandmother, including a lovely one of her in an elegant dress around the late 1910s

she said it was probably taken before the Veiled Prophet Ball

what is the Veiled Prophet ball? I looked it up

it was a ball held in St. Louis from 1878 to 2021 when they changed the name- but have not, to the best of my knowledge, stopped doing it. organized by a "secret" society of wealthy men called the Veiled Prophets and preceded by a lavish parade

oh and it managed to piss off e v e r y o n e

Irish people didn't like it because the parade twice involved negative stereotypes on its floats (the protest of any Native or Asian people has not been recorded but they uh. they did that too)

Black people really didn't like it because it was segregated until 1979(?!) and for many years the parade route passed by impoverished, majority-Black neighborhoods and was seen as white elites flaunting their wealth. also in one more recent case, the police shooting in Ferguson happened right before the parade, leading BLM to understandably protest outside the ball venue

Feminists didn't like it because the VPs were all-male and the Debutante Ball aspect came to be seen as antiquated and infantilizing to women. Also the ball's queen, the Queen of Love and Beauty, had to be a "maiden" and one Queen-elect who secretly got married before the ball was basically booted from her spot in disgrace and never invited again

Union workers didn't like it because it was seen as an attempt to upstage and replace union parades

Also one time a newspaper mislabeled an image of a man in KKK robes as "the Veiled Prophet" and this led, many years later, to actress Ellie Kemper being called a "KKK Queen" on Twitter because she'd been the Queen of Love and Beauty at the ball as a teenager (the event has no specific ties to the KKK despite its racially segregated origins)

Jewish people didn't like it because- shocker -they were also not allowed to attend

Honestly, this is the biggest number of disparate groups pissed off by a ball that I've seen since researching the PR disaster Bradley-Martin Ball of 1897

it's kind of impressive in a weird unfortunate way

(oh and lots of people went, so I'm not reading too much into this specific woman's attendance. but also like. she was a wealthy white southern/midwestern woman born in 1895. I don't have any illusions about her moral perfection)

#history

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clourey · 24 hours ago

Text

“satoru,”

ouch.

“i prefer the way you said my name yesterday, you know!” satoru feigns hurt, clutching his chest dramatically— eliciting an eye-roll from you.

how did you say his name yesterday? you can’t recall, it wasn’t important. satoru, conversely, remembers in perfect detail the enunciation that caused his heart to throb.

each syllable of his name, spoken so tenderly, and paired with a timbre that conveyed feelings of worry.

“whatever— how’s your bruise?”

satoru’s eyes momentarily flickered with mischief, seizing his opportunity, “you mean the bruise you left on my heart?”

“you.. dumbass.” you irked, heaving a heavy sigh, whilst satoru’s form began to stutter with his familiar mirth.

“you’re incredibly annoying,” you remark to no avail, as the tittering evolved into full-blown husky laughter.

the sounds reverberated through your chest like the gentle buzzing of a bee, warm and fuzzy, unlike any other, for reasons you couldn’t quite tell. it remedied the exasperation and utter frustration that often came with being satoru’s friend— he created a problem and sold the solution, what an asshole.

“satoru, please.”

it isn’t until you cross your arms that satoru decides he’s had enough amusement, “gee, sorry! you just know my jokes are funny.”

“the characteristics of a funny joke is that other people also find it funny, yet here we are.” you flick his forehead, earning yourself a stagy whine. one that could land another bruise on his face, honestly.

alas, you were too deeply absorbed in concern to physically hurt him, so you instead settle for an injury to his sentiments, and his passion for horrible jokes (hopefully).

“come on, look up.” you instruct, and it would be a lie to say that you didn’t shudder at the way satoru complied so naturally— like it was instinct. to add fuel to the fire, his hands snaked around your waist, pulling you close enough that you were forced to prop your knee between his legs. if you didn’t want to lose balance and topple onto the couch (and potentially satoru too), that is.

you carefully peel the bandage off of his skin, your thumb grazing over the purple bruise that adorned his cheek. he closes his eyes, your touch almost lulling him to sleep.

yes, adorned. this man never fails to look beautiful, as much as you despised the fact.

“are the hands necessary?” you mumble to yourself, as you apply ointment on satoru’s face. unfortunately for you, your voice is never gone unheard by satoru, no matter how hard you try.

he replies with a hum, startling you.

“i was serious when i said you bruised my heart, by the way.”

his words cause you to nearly tumble, exacerbating your struggle to stretch your body to reach the fresh gauze that laid on the other end of the couch.

he’s holding me so tight, and that he was. his hands had planted themselves on your hips, rendering you unable to shift positions.

“and—” you pant, relieved when your digits finally grasp the gauze, “when did that happen?”

he reopens his eyes, “a month ago. the party at shoko’s.”

your hands come to an abrupt halt, recounting the events satoru was referring too. his pupils, meanwhile, trace intangible lines across every feature on your visage, as if he wouldn’t ever see them again.

“you were drunk, satoru.” you resume dressing his injury, “we all know you actively avoid drinking because you say dumb shit you don’t even mean when you’re drunk, among other reasons.”

“i’ll have you know i did mean it when i said i hate kids.”

your brows raise in amusement, “and that’s why you intentionally let yuji land a hit on you?”

“i only wanted to gauge yuji’s improvements, plus you were so worried about me. i mean come on, you’re here right now, so win-win, yeah?”

you chuckle— risible truly is an adjective perfectly fit for satoru.

“whatever floats your boat, and..” you helplessly try to swat his arms off you (were you even trying? you don’t know, perhaps you wanted to stay with him longer), “let me go now, you’re all patched up.”

“nuh-uh! i’m not done talking.”

you know you’ve lost the fight before it even started. satoru would let you go if that’s what your body told him, but of course he noticed the subtle way in which your frame leaned into his touch. nothing gets past this him, really.

“make it quick—”

“i meant it when i said i like you,” his grip around you loosens, “that quick enough for you?”

“too..” you’re scared you’ll stutter, “too quick, i think.”

it was, once again, his turn to laugh. although there was nothing happy about it, nothing that warm and fuzzy.

satoru can read your expressions. what he perceives doesn’t please him, but loss was a constant in his life, so why would he expect anything else? stupid man.

“i’m.. not sure what to say.”

strange, your sentence felt empty. you intended to say his name; why didn’t you? were you hesitating?

or, perhaps satoru stole the alphabets of his name from your mouth and swallowed it, so he wouldn’t have to hear it from you— but he’s choking on the letters now. the back of his throat hurts, it stings and wells tears on his waterline.

for a fleeting moment, he wants so badly to take back the revelation he had made to you. yet he fails to, because the truth will always be there for you to realise. he knows it.

his words are just one of the many mediums through which he has expressed his affection for you. flowers, touches, time— you name it, and he’s given it all.

“i’ve gotta go.” you hurry, without knowing why.

and satoru? he doesn’t dare to look at you. instead, his gaze settles on the remaining gauze.

he wonders, could it be of any use to a heart, that is bruised and beaten?

#what the fuck #???#im happy w my writing here but i promise this was NOT supposed to be angsty.#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gn reader #x reader

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