#I don’t think it’s wise to start pointing fingers

[melliemell]

Pairing: Chuuya x f!reader

Contents: NSFW, penetration (reader receiving), Chuuya-levels of cursing, don't say he's cute, he'd get grumpy about it and fuck you stupid to prove a point, incessant flirting, Approx 1.1k words

It really started off as a joke.

An off-hand comment you made. You didn’t intend on paying more attention to it… were it not Chuuya’s reaction; an eyebrow raised as he leaned into his seat, that god-awful grin of his spreading wide as he regarded you.

Your date was going well, all things considered. A nice restaurant, your own secluded corner to settle in at and relax, a gift of overly extravagant flowers–always the charmer that one, Chuuya even pulled the chair for you–it was perfect. A sense of being with the right person doing the right thing.

Finally having the time for each other.

And doing normal, romantic things was part of this evening’s plans.

Except it was Chuuya you were speaking of. Nothing that simple ever happened around him.

“So you think I’m boring?” he asked, playing the amused card to the tenth. There was none of his usual bark, only the teasing tone you had grown accustomed to.

“Misleading–” you began, leaning into his personal space to poke at his chest. “–is what I was referring to. This grand, scary mafioso… that also happens to spend half an hour choosing which shoes go best with which vest. You portray the part of barking dog really well but you’re actually a cutie.” And you winked, just to nail it down.

Chuuya clicked his tongue. He didn’t like it when you babied him, you knew that. But his reactions were too good to miss out on. 

“Hah? That the type of man ya take me for?” he grumbled, not quite masking the slight annoyance this time around. 

You hummed, trailing a finger down his chest. “Devastated, are you?”

Chuuya grabbed your hand, raising it to plant a kiss to your wrist. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he said, “Damn right I am. Calling me ‘cute’ out here like ya don’t know any better.”

You cocked your head, eyebrow raised in feigned confusion. “What? You gonna do something about it?” You knew perfectly well where this was going.

A whispered “fuck” left Chuuya’s lips, audible only for you to hear. And it was then it got settled– you weren’t suited for the romance part. Not the innocent, charming one at least. You needed a bit… more.

It became even clearer when less than an hour later your hands fumbled for your keys, Chuuya glued to your back as he trailed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. 

“I really hoped we’d be doing the ‘sweet date and movie night combo’, you know? Have you snuggled up against me and all,” you said, wasting no time as you both stumbled through the entrance, your hands finding their way around Chuuya’s neck. He kicked the door shut before trapping you against the nearby wall, lips seeking yours. 

“I’ll snuggle you up all night long, doll.” You could taste the wine on his tongue, the hurried way he kissed you leaving no space for distraction. Demanding your full attention was a staple mark of Chuuya’s, you couldn’t deny it.

“You seem preoccupied with other things, though,” you said, unbuttoning his vest.

Chuuya’s hands were already on your bra, unclasping the hooks before you felt a hand cup your breast, the barely-there caress of a thumb over your stiffened bud sending tingles of pleasure down your body in seconds. “How about you just ask me nicely, hm?” 

“Ah, you want me to beg now?” you asked, a finger trailing the outline of his lower lip, and you savored the way his breath trembled. Teasing like this would be wise only for now, you doubted he’d let you off the hook as easily soon enough. Not when you could feel his cock through the fabric of his trousers, hard against your thigh and probably leaking. 

Chuuya kissed your finger before biting it lightly, and you chuckled. “Don’t wanna leave me guessing what you want, do you? I might end up biting somewhere ya don’t want me to, sweets.”

You arched your hips forward, drawing a low groan from Chuuya. “We’ll have to wait and see then. I’m very open-minded, you know.”

“And stubborn,” Chuuya grinned, rocking against you. “Fu-uck, this feels good. I forgot what my point was, damnit.”

“Ha, loser.”

“Fuck off, bigger loser.” 

You were about to make fun of him again, seeing as he lost brain cells faster the hornier he got, but… you felt him pinch your nipple this time, rolling your bud between his skilled fingers as he dived for your neck again. The throbbing between your legs distracted you, intensifying even more as Chuuya’s tongue trailed along your pulse, leaving damp skin to prickle against the cold air. 

Rough wall against your back turned into soft sheets in a flurry of fragmented moments. Only Chuuya’s presence remained firm beside you. He settled between your legs, hands hurriedly discarding any remaining garments as fast as you both could, all the while without letting go of each other. Not once.

You barely had your underwear down before Chuuya was rocking forward, cock settling between your pussy lips as he rubbed against you. Your wetness spread over his tip only to draw a low moan from his parted lips. 

“Impatient,” you said, hooking your ankles around his hips. 

“You wanted the real deal tonight,” he grinned at you. “Going around calling me boring and cute all evening. Like hell I’ll leave it at that.”

“You gonna change my mind, fancy hat boy?”

“Ooh, you betcha,” Chuuya said, and slowly sank into the heat of your throbbing cunt.

You knew Chuuya was a talker; never shutting up even when you really would rather just hold him, hand clasped over his mouth as he fucked you in peace.

But not this time. It was quick and rough, him bottoming out in you with every slick thrust. He barely gave you time to take your bearings, his hand finding your clit only to start rubbing mercilessly in sync with his movements. Trying to stifle your moans was proving near impossible. Only Chuuya’s lips served as help, swallowing your every sound as he kissed you stupid. 

“Oh, fuck…” you panted, pulling away. 

“Nuh-huh, where ya going, sweets?” Chuuya ground his hips against yours, drawing another pained moan from your throat. “I’m doing you good, yeah? Come on, keep up with me.”

Your nails dug into his back even as your body trembled all over. “A bit too good there.”

“Yeah?” Chuuya trailed kisses down your jawline, his pace slowed. For now, at least. “Wanna ask me nicely about it?” he whispered.

Fuck. “I’m in for it, aren’t I?” you asked, knowing full well the answer. 

Chuuya only grinned.

Yeah, it was about to be a long night.

[rozugold]

Wait, what happened? I can't watch streams nor vods so I'm a bit lost here--

In her last stream Shubble talked in depth about an abusive ex. She did not say any specific names but based off the behaviors and tidbits she mentioned about that person has ME thinking of a specific name. I won’t say who because I’m not trying to start shit and spread rumors, You’ll have to watch the vod and come to your own conclusion.

What matters right now though is Shubble. Please send her lots of love and support. She deserves the world

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel w/an Innocent S/O

Warnings: Protective Miguel, Slight Yandere Miguel (if you squint), Implications of Smut, Fluff, More Fluff, Spooning, Mentions/Implications of injuries, Insecurity, No Pronouns used for Reader Except 'You'.

Him being fiercely protective of you 24/7.

If someone even so much as looks at you wrong, he stares them down until they either break down and start apologising, or their heart gives out.

You’re the only person he shows any affection to. You’re also the only person allowed to touch him. Period.

He’s so touch starved; please hold him and tell him he’s your big guy :-(

Goes FERAL when you rake your fingers through his hair; his eyes roll into his skull and he can’t help but moan a little, even if the context isn’t sexual.

Don’t bring it up or he’ll punish you for it later 👀.

He finds your innocence both endearing and worrying.

On one hand, you believe in the good of everyone, which, considering how insecure Miguel can be, is what initially drew him to you; your ability to empathise and sympathise with others, to not judge them.

However, he knows people would take advantage of your kind and giving nature.

One time, he found out that one of the Spiders – a Victorian England era ‘gentleman superhero’ – had tossed you a used coffee cup and told you to dispose of it on his behalf. When you tried to say something, to tell him you were busy and had better things to do, he just dismissed you.

Of course, Miguel had seen this. He has eyes on you every second of the day.

You never saw that Spiderman again. Nor did anyone else. All that seemed to remain of him was his suit thrown haphazardly into the storage room, where a great big tear edged with blood was ripped into the chestpiece, the hero’s signature top hat abandoned and crumpled beneath it.

He also broke another Spider-Person’s arm when they tried to steal one of the fairy cakes you’d lovingly baked for him; poured your heart and soul into.

Miguel also growls at people he thinks are looking at you strangely. Full-on bares his fangs like a rabid dog and watches them cower.

He purposely grows his fangs out and lets you play with them.

He’s careful to make sure you don’t get hurt, though, guiding your hands away from the pointed tips.

His guilty pleasure is when you kiss his fangs and tell him he’s “The coolest, most handsome man in the world!”

“Just the world?” He says, smiling, raising an eyebrow. His heart melts in his chest as your smile widens, eclipsing your eyes into crescents.

“In ALL the worlds!” You say, throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him, laughing. He brings his arms, thick and muscular, around your waist and pulls you into him, pressing ticklish kisses into your neck, revelling in your laughter.

Intimacy-wise, Miguel is horrified at the prospect of hurting you.

He’s ever so careful, as if handling glass, holding back his strength.

It’s worth it, though. The strain.

Especially when he hears you mewl and try to hide your face in his chest.

“Oh no, Sweetheart,” he says, tangling a hand in your hair and pulling your head back. His pointed fangs flint as he gives a smile. “I want to watch you like this.”

Loves your gentle kisses – they give him life.

Nothing can get him down when you’re around; especially when you’re sitting in his lap.

Though, issues have arisen as a result of your oblivion to…compromising positions.

More often than not, Miguel’s had to bite his lip and tongue when you shift in his lap, catching him, making his heart start and his breath shutter, electric anticipation jolting through him.

He takes you aside in the bathroom to deal with the issue you’ve unknowingly caused, but you don’t complain. Not that you can with your mouth full.

He looks at you with eyes which have seen the deaths of countless individuals, yet when he finds yours, he sees love and light spanning infinite universes within them. And they give him hope that there is more to life than loss and grief; more to him than his failures.

He revels in the feeling of you hiding behind him whenever you’re scared.

Sometimes he takes you to areas of the facility where he knows you’ll be easily frightened – for example, where captive villains are held – so he can feel your hands tightening around his arm or gripping the back of his suit. It makes him feel useful, like he can take on the world.

And he gets off on being the only person who can truly protect you. But he’d never tell you that, of course.

Loves demonstrating his strength around you. He can pick you up single-handedly and carry you anywhere without so much as thinking of breaking a sweat.

He prefers to be the big spoon, curling around you like a shield and protecting you from the outside world, his warm, broad chest to your back.

Tells you how much he loves you through hushed post-intimacy whispers and soft touches. Shows it through acts of service and the insurmountable adoration that fills his eyes whenever you’re around.

He can’t imagine being with anybody else. He can’t even remember the last time he felt anything save for contempt before you showed up.

And he’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. No cost is too great for the love of his life <3.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[hischierhoney]

Just Friends

Jack Hughes x Best Friend!Reader

summary: You’ve been best friends with Jack for ages. He’s also been in love with you for ages, but he’s got that completely under control. Really, he does. Right? 5.2k words

warnings: alcohol/intoxication, non graphic mentions of surgery/blood/stitches, hospital stay, reference to Jack’s shoulder surgery :(

Jack finds you in his apartment kitchen, a black tie in his hand. He’s already dressed in his suit pants and shirt, and for once, he feels like hair looks almost presentable. You take the tie from him without a word, and you loop it around his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt. Meanwhile, he grabs your necklace off the counter and fiddles with the clasp.

You hum to yourself as you start to tie the tie. “Ready for the game today?”

He shrugs. “I’m always ready.”

Luke is there, too, shoveling cereal into his mouth and watching the two of you warily. As you loop the tie around your fingers, Jack slips the necklace around your neck, your skin soft under his fingers. He latches it, blindly, with expert precision, muscle memory. He’s done it a million times now.

You tug the tie into place and then smooth it out on his chest. He hasn’t put his jacket on yet, but you’ll fix the lapels of it, too. You take a half a step back and give him a once over. He stands, waiting for your approval with his breath held in his chest. It shouldn’t mean this much, you making sure he looks good, but it does. You reach up and tuck a lock of hair back into place atop his head, and he smiles happily.

“All good,” you say, dusting your hands together as if you’ve just finished a hard day’s work.

Jack squints at your face, spotting something, and he brings a finger up to brush against your cheekbone. “Eyelash,” he explains, and you hum, closing your eyes as he brushes it away. “Got it.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Come on, don’t wanna be late. And no cereal in the car, Luke.”

Jack rushes off to grab his jacket. When he comes back, Luke is dumping the last of his cereal into the sink, and Jack grimaces. You’re in the hallway, stepping into a pair of shoes. Luke turns to him with a smirk, and Jack shakes his head before his brother can even open his mouth.

“Don’t,” he whispers.

Luke rolls his eyes. “I just think you guys are-“

“You thinking is dangerous,” Jack says. “Save all that energy for the game.”

He walks away, down the hallway to find you. You reach up to fix his jacket for him, and then you reach for the car keys and hand them off to him. He grins and nudges his elbow against your side.

“You’re such a passenger princess,” he teases.

You shrug. “I’m very good at it!”

He’s not complaining, really. There’s nobody he’d rather see in his passenger seat than you. Your jersey hangs proudly from your shoulders, his name and number on the back, and it makes his chest feel warm. You’re his good luck charm. He just hasn’t told you that yet.

…..

Jack’s spent so much time convincing his brothers and his teammates and his parents that he’s not in love with you, that he can’t pinpoint when it actually happened. He’s not sure there was some big moment, some realization, some day where he looked at you and everything changed. You’ve just been so present in his life that maybe it was a sort of gradual thing. Maybe it’s always been there, and he’s been in denial since he was eleven and Quinn was teasing him on the playground near their house.

Now you’re in New York, closer than you have been in years, both distance wise and friendship wise. You have season tickets, because he’s playing in the NHL and he wants you at every game possible. You spend half your nights at his place when he’s home, and he ignores the funny looks Luke gives him about it. Honestly, he’s a bit tired of denying it all. He thinks maybe if someone just asked point blank he’d let it all spill out.

He reads the text from you and smiles- you’re on your way to the Rock, one of your friends in tow. He’d gotten you two seats for the season, so you wouldn’t have to sit alone. He sort of dreads the day you decide to bring a date, but then he wonders what guy would be stupid enough to go along with that. Jack’s cocky, he’ll admit it. He knows he’s good at hockey. He laughs at the thought of you dragging a date along to see him play.

Someone announces they’re ordering food before the game, from the deli down the street. Jack listens as his teammates put in their orders. Luke goes with his usual. Timo changes things up. When the assistant gets to him, he grins. He orders his go to, and then another, and asks for a can of Coke, too, for good measure. Luke gives a knowing roll of his eyes.

When the guy brings the food in, Jack takes his bag, fishes his sandwich out of it, and hands the other sandwich and the can of Coke back. “Can you get this to seat B322?” He asks, grinning widely. He knows your seat number by heart.

Luke sighs heavily next to him. The guy agrees, of course. Nico, who’s standing nearby, cocks his head in confusion.

“She’s coming straight from work,” Jack defends. The ribbing he gets from the guys will be worth it when he sees you after the game. “She’s gonna be hungry.”

“It’s a hockey arena,” Luke says drily. “There’s so much food here.”

“But she loves Krauszer’s,” Jack says, and Nico rolls his eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t order her some?”

“Friend,” Nico says, drawing out the word. “Sure.”

Jack ignores him. He ignores Luke’s smirk, too. He eats his sandwich and finishes getting ready, and then he heads out onto the ice, knowing you’re there somewhere, probably sipping on a can of Coke.

…..

The issue, Jack finds, is that it’s getting harder to ignore the fact that he’s in love with you.

It was easier, before, when you were younger and he was more dumb and less aware of… everything. He could convince himself it was just puppy love, just absence making the heart grow fonder, when post high school saw the two of you split apart. But now you’re here, close, and yet not close enough. Jack wants more, and he can’t really ignore that feeling these days.

He’s out at a bar, team bonding, as Nico put it. Except that half the team is drunk, including Nico, and the only bonding Jack’s doing is the brotherly kind, trying to keep Luke from sneaking drinks, or worse, getting caught sneaking drinks. Sometimes he hates being an older brother. He’d wanted to come out, maybe talk to a girl, maybe take said girl home, or get her to take him back to her place so he wouldn’t have to worry about Luke overhearing. But it’s not really working, not with Nico hanging off his shoulder like a leech and Luke sneaking another shot, and god, Jack’s going to kill him. If you were here, you’d be keeping an eye on Luke, too. He wishes you were here.

He has a shot to take the edge of the annoyance off. Then he has another, and another, and then there’s a girl across the bar, smiling at him, and- she sort of looks like you, is the thing, but not quite. The sort of uncanny valley of it all is freaking him out. For a moment he wonders if hooking up with her would make it better- would get it out of his system, would scratch the itch. The sane, more sober part of him thinks it might just make it all worse. To have some girl under him and hear a voice that isn’t yours. Jack used to do this all the time. The thought of it makes him feel sick now. That’s new.

He downs another shot and passes his leech of a captain off on his problem of a brother, hoping the two of them will keep each other in line. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and gets an Uber.

It’s only when he’s standing at your apartment door that he realizes he probably should’ve called first. You might already be asleep. You might be out. Maybe you have a guy over. His stomach does a somersault at the thought. He raises his hand to knock anyways- he’s come all this way.

You open the door with a smile on your face. “Nico called to ask if I knew where you went. Thought you might be headed here.”

Jack lets his shoulders drop. “They were annoying me.”

That’s not the real reason he left, but he can’t exactly tell you he saw the uncanny valley version of you and decided to leave. That would be… a lot. You seem to take his answer as the truth, because Luke is annoying on a night out, and Nico can be, too. Jack still probably should’ve told them he was leaving. He’ll get an earful about it. Oh well. The way you step aside to let him into your apartment makes it worth it.

He heads for the couch, and you laugh when he flops onto it, facedown. He likes your laugh. It sounds so much like you. He remembers the years when you were in college and he was far, far away from you, when he’d crack jokes on the phone calls just to hear you giggle. He presses his face into a pillow and hopes you don’t see the blush on his cheeks, or that you’ll attribute it to his drunkenness.

“Want food?” You call out, from the kitchen, he thinks. He groans loudly in response. “I have mozz sticks.”

He turns his head to the side and says, “fuck, I love you.”

He can say it here, in the comfort and privacy of your living room, in the relative safeness of the fact that he’s been drinking. You won’t think anything of it. You won’t realize how much he really means it.

The sound of your laugh is music to his ears. “Love you too, Rowdy.”

You don’t mean it the way he wants you to. That’s okay. He came to terms with that a while ago, listening to you say it over staticky phone calls. But you’ll make him mozzarella sticks, and you’re not upset that he’s here, so he’ll take it. He’ll take anything, really.

You come into the living room a few minutes later, plate full of food in hand, and make him roll over. He sits up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch, and you lift his legs to sit under them. He doesn’t complain when you turn on some stupid reality tv show he hates- there are mozzarella sticks for him to eat, and the warmth of you under him, the weight of your arm where it’s draped across his calves. He can put up with the host’s annoying voice for this.

He falls asleep on your couch, half a mozz stick in his hand. When he wakes up, he’s tucked in with the quilt you’ve had for years now, a pillow under his head, and water waiting for him on the coffee table. You’re probably at work by now. He’ll send you a text to say thank you, later, unless he decides to just wait here until you come home. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, really.

…..

It’s a Saturday, and Luke is out for lunch with some of the other younger players, so Jack’s fending for himself. Trevor, knowing this due to what he would call their cosmic connection, has seen it as an opportunity to talk Jack’s ear off over FaceTime. Jack has his phone propped on the kitchen counter, half listening as he cooks.

He loves Trevor- really, he does, but the guy could talk for hours upon hours and never run out of things to say. Jack lets him, because he knows Trevor likes talking, so he’s not going to be mean. He just chimes in with noises of agreement or disagreement at the right times. Then Trevor says your name, and he zones back in.

“I fucking knew you weren’t listening!” Trevor cackles, wide grin taking up most of the phone screen. “But the second I mention-“

“Shut up,” Jack groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m listening. I’m just also making lunch.”

“Right, right,” Trevor snarks. “Just for you?”

Jack knows what he’s insinuating. Honestly, as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad idea. You’re not working today, and he could probably convince you to come hang out with him in exchange for free food. He’s bored enough to listen to Trevor go on and on. You could save him from it.

“Yeah,” he says, and immediately contradicts himself by picking up his phone and sending you a text.

He tries to listen this time, he really does. He cares about Trevor, he wants to hear what he has to say. He finishes cooking lunch, and then Trevor has to go, shouting something to someone in the background, and he hangs up. Jack sighs at the empty, quiet room. He thinks about texting Luke to see when he’ll be back, but that feels pathetic. Maybe Nico’s not busy.

His heart leaps when his phone buzzes with a text from you.

Lunch sounds good. I’ll be over soon.

He can’t wipe the grin off his face the whole rest of the day. You come over, and eat the rest of the food happily, sitting at the kitchen counter. He watches fondly and tells you all the drama Trevor just told him- screw you, Zegras, he was listening. You smile brightly up at him.

“Got plans for the rest of the day?” He asks, hoping desperately that you don’t.

You shrug. “Nope. I’m all yours.”

God, he wishes.

…..

Jack thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can’t really be blamed when it all comes crashing down on a Wednesday afternoon in April. It’s been coming for a while. He’s had time to prepare. It shouldn’t take him out the way it does, because he’s seen it coming from miles away. It shouldn’t, but it does anyways.

They pull him from the games and finally, finally, ship him off to Colorado to have surgery. He gets an email with the flight information, another with a hotel to stay in the night before, and instructions on how to book his flight back to Jersey after he’s released. They don’t want to book it now, for fear of something going wrong in surgery. Hockey teams are superstitious like that, even their travel management.

There’s another set of emails, too- ones from the surgeon, about his prep and things he needs to do and bring and what to expect from the healing process. He hasn’t bothered to open it. That’ll make it real. He just packs up some of his clothes, shuts himself in his room, and waits. He ignores Luke, then he ignores Nico, who he’s sure Luke has brought over. He ignores Quinn’s phone calls, too, and everyone else’s.

When you show up, though, knocking on his bedroom door and calling out his name, he can’t ignore it. He makes a noise that isn’t a go away, and you take it as an invitation in, which he supposes it was. You make a soft noise of disapproval when you see him, curled up in his bed, hood pulled up around his head to block out the world.

“Hey, J,” you murmur, padding your way across his bedroom. “What’s going on?”

He sniffles and presses his face into the mattress. “The surgery.”

You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed. “Yeah.”

Jack’s not afraid of having surgery, really. He’s never been very squeamish, never one to shy away from blood draws or stitches or IVs. You know this. Everyone knows it, which is probably why they’re all so worried about his reaction to this. He doesn’t want to admit it really, but it’s you, so he finds the words slipping past his lips.

“Mom can’t come,” he says, voice raw and scraping. “Or dad. Too short notice. And- and Luke and Nico and Quinn are gonna be busy, obviously, and I just… all this talk about surgery all this time and I didn’t think I’d have to do it alone, you know? It couldn’t wait till after the season so I could-“

He breaks off into an embarrassing, breath stealing sob. You make a soothing little noise and lean down next to him, scooping him up into your arms. It sort of helps and sort of makes it worse. The tears flow freely now. It’s just you. All his walls are down.

“You won’t be by yourself, Jack,” you murmur, and he waits for the reassuring words, that you’ll all be with him in spirit, that he’ll be home in no time, that he’s never alone. Instead, you say, “I took some time off. I’m gonna fly out with you, be there for the surgery.”

He pries one eye open, waiting for the punch line. There isn’t one. Just you, watching him carefully, holding him close. He knows how hard it is for you to get time off right now. It’s your busy season at work. And yet, here you are. Tears start running again. The whole world goes blurry. You just brush them away, one by one.

“Oh, honey,” you soothe, voice low and soft. “You didn’t think I’d let you do it alone, did you?”

God, he loves you. And he thinks this might be the final straw, the last puzzle piece. There’s no denying it now. You brush stray hairs from his face and press warm kisses to his forehead while he admits that he’s scared, not of the surgery but of what comes after, of the healing and the rehab and everything involved in it. You draw soothing patterns on his skin and just listen, because you know him well enough to know he needs to get it off his chest. He thinks about telling you how much he loves you as he starts to drift off, but he thinks better of it. There’ll be a better time than this, tear stained and curled up in his bed like a little kid. For now, it’s enough to know you love him, in any way, shape, or form.

…..

Jack wakes up in a hospital bed in Vail, Colorado, utterly disoriented and freezing cold. The ceiling is this ugly grey color, just like the rest of the ceilings in the building have been. He’s spent a lot of time staring at them in the last 24 hours. He blinks, and the tiles blur and swirl, and he hears his name in your voice. He tries to hold on, but he’s so, so sleepy, so he closes his eyes.

He wakes up again with no idea how long he’s been out. He’s warmer now. There’s an extra blanket laid over him, and a hand holding his. Hm. It feels nice. He squeezes his fingers experimentally. He hears movement to his left. A plastic cup appears in his field of vision, and he suddenly realizes how thirsty he is. He turns, slightly, and finds you.

“You’re here,” he says, quietly.

Your face is a little out of focus, but he thinks you smile. “Yeah, of course I am. Told you I would be.”

He knows that. He knows you flew out here with him, eating snacks on the plane before he hit the 12 hours before surgery mark and he had to stop. You checked into the hotel with him, got all the supplies ready for after the surgery, got him here, promised you’d be waiting when he woke up. But now he’s here, post surgery, and you’re holding his hand, and his chest hurts in the best way.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” you murmur, lifting the cup to his lips. He takes a sip. “Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head gingerly. He’s a little achy, but nothing that would make him cry normally. He can’t help it, it’s probably the meds. He remembers crying when he got his wisdom teeth out, too. He tries to tell you as much, but it comes out garbled and teary and raw. You shush him, smoothing your hand over his forehead and pushing his hair out of his face. That feels nice. You’re warm.

“Okay. It’s okay,” you soothe. “Take a breath. It’s alright.”

He does his best. You help him take little sips of water, and eventually the tears dry up. He’s left sitting there, your hand running through his hair, and he suddenly feels so, so sleepy. He turns his head and blinks at you. You’re clear in his vision now, beautiful as ever.

“You’re pretty,” he mumbles.

He thinks it all the time, he may as well say it. Nothing’s holding him back now. You laugh, and your face gets blurry again. He sighs.

“You’re pretty,” you say back.

He rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyways. “Hmm.”

“Are you sleepy?” You ask, thumb brushing against his temple. He nods. “You can go to sleep, okay?”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, feeling a little vulnerable, suddenly.

“Yeah, Jacky,” you murmur, and when he closes his eyes, he thinks he feels your lips against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The third time he wakes up, you’re sitting next to him, eating ice cream out of a little plastic cup with one of the tiny wooden spoons. The tv in the room is playing that same stupid reality show. The host’s voice would piss him off if he wasn’t so focused on how adorable you look. He inches the fingers of his good hand towards you, towards where your knee is pressed against his bed. When he makes contact, you jump nearly a foot in the air. He can’t help but giggle.

“Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head at him.

“Nah, just Jack,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Someone’s feeling better.”

If he’s being honest, he still feels a little loopy. Your face is in focus, but everything feels a little softer around the edges. His fingers scramble against your knee, and you laugh, leaning close. You set down the ice cream and reach to tangle your hand up in his. That’s nice. He doesn’t get to do that a lot- hold your hand. Maybe he should have surgery more often. You smooth his hair out of his face again. It’s such a caring motion that it sends his heart stuttering.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, quietly.

You shrug. “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t?”

And. That’s nice, but it’s not really what he wants to hear. He wants you to be here because you love him. He probably wouldn’t spend hours in a hospital waiting room for Nico, probably wouldn’t sit and wait for him to wake up. He’d bring him food after, when he got home, would help him however he needed. But to fly halfway across the country just to be here? He’d do that for you in a heartbeat, but he’s not sure there are many others he’d do the same for.

You seem to notice the way he’s staring, and you wave the wooden spoon at him. “You want some ice cream? The nurse said to call when you actually woke up. I’m sure she’ll give you one if you turn on the charm.”

He blinks slowly. “I love you, you know that?”

It’s past his lips before he can take it back. It should be terrifying. He should feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it’s the hospital drugs, or maybe it’s just that he’s been holding it in for so long, but it doesn’t feel scary. He sort of just feels relieved.

You smile brightly. “Yeah, I love you, too, Jack.”

He huffs. “No, you don’t get it-“

Before he can get another word out, the nurse comes in. He wonders if you pressed the button when he wasn’t paying attention, or if hospital staff just have comically bad timing. He lets out a groan. You give him an amused smile.

“Welcome back, Jack,” the nurse says. He reads her nametag- Nancy. “I’m just going to do a little checkup, alright?” She turns to you. “If you want, you can step out into the hall.”

By the time he’s squeezing your hand to keep you there, you’re holding onto him tightly, too. Huh. That’s interesting.

“She can stay,” Jack says.

You nod. So does Nancy, a knowing smile on her lips. Jack wonders if she sees this a lot. Guys with friends who sit by their bed, oblivious to the fact that said guy is hopelessly in love with them. Maybe it’s a common thing in hospitals. Maybe it’s not just Jack. That’s a nice thought.

He gets his blood pressure taken, and his pulse, and he gets asked to take a few deep breaths for what seems to be just the fun of it. She asks his pain level- a 3, at which point you break in and tell the nurse that his three is more like a five. She smiles at the two of you. When she goes to leave, Jack speaks up.

“Could I have some ice cream?” He asks, hoping the way his voice cracks on the words makes her sympathetic.

Ice cream does sound good. His throat feels raw, and his mouth is dry. And he’s starving.

Nurse Nancy smiles and looks at you. “What do you think? Has he been well behaved enough?”

Normally, Jack would take a little offense to it. But he turns to you, and you’re smiling bright, lighting up the whole room. His stomach does a somersault. He wonders if the way he feels about you is visible on the heart monitor, if his pulse picks up every time he looks at you.

“He’s the best,” you answer, and he melts. “Give him all the ice cream you’ve got.”

Ten minutes later, you sit there, holding a container of chocolate vanilla swirl. He’d been ready to eat it on his own until he remembered his arm, the surgery, the whole reason he’s here. He’d had to settle for letting you feed it to him. Maybe settle is the wrong word, really. It’s nice to be taken care of, even nicer when you’re the one who’s doing it for him.

He thinks maybe he’s still loopy, because in between bites, he pauses, looks at you, opens his mouth, and puts his foot directly in it. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”

You nod. “I know.”

He’s too far into this to stop now. “No, I-“

You interrupt, dropping the spoon in the cup to place your hand over his. “Jack, honey. Tell me later, when you’re not high off anesthesia, okay?”

Oh. He cocks his head, slightly. His mouth tastes like chocolate and vanilla. You smell like flowers. Like the lilacs in the backyard of his childhood home. There’s a light and warmth in your eyes that makes everything feel a little bit better.

“And if I tell you later,” he says, feeling braver than he ever has before, “are you gonna tell me something back?”

You laugh. It’s still music to his ears. You pick up the spoon again, scooping up a bit of ice cream. His gaze stays locked on you.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “That I mean it the same way you mean it.”

That’s enough for Jack, for now.

He tells you again the next day, waits a full 24 hours because a part of him is worried it was all some sort of drug induced dream. But you’re packing up the suitcases, that same stupid show on the TV, and he turns to you where he sits on the edge of the bed and says it.

“I love you. Like, really love you. As more than a friend.” His heart is in his throat.

You drop the hoodie you’d been holding into the bag, walk across the room to him, and come to stand between his legs. He’s holding his breath. You hook your finger under his chin and pull his face to yours. He thinks he recognizes the look on your face, from the kitchen when you helped him tie his tie, from the living room with a plate of mozzarella sticks in your hand, from every moment he was feeling all his feelings for you.

“Yeah,” you say, kissing his cheek. “I really love you too.”

When you kiss him on the lips, soft and sweet and everything he’s wanted for ages now, he thinks that maybe the whole mess has been worth it.

…..

He sits in a wooden chair on the back deck of the lake house. It’s mid summer, the week of the 4th of July. The heat is nearly unbearable, heavy and sticky and inescapable. Trevor and Luke are on the grass, throwing a football back and forth. Jack’s trying not to check the time obsessively.

Quinn, who’s sitting next to him, gives him a look when he picks up his phone again. “She’ll get here when she gets here.”

Jack rolls his eyes and sinks further into his seat. “You’re a dick.”

“Jesus, I know she’s your friend but…” Quinn is shaking his head. “You’re being obsessive.”

He hasn’t told any of them. Not about the hospital bed confession, or the kiss, or anything that came after it. The flight back to Jersey, his head on your shoulder. The way you took care of him before he flew to Michigan for the off season. The late night calls the two of you have shared since then. He’s itching to see you. It’s been far too long. He’s been scared to tell them because he’s scared you’ll get here and it won’t be real. He’s being ridiculous, he knows it, but he can’t help it. It’s you.

He hears it when your car pulls up in the driveway. He stands up, ignoring the look Quinn gives him. He’s not quick enough- you must’ve parked and ran inside immediately. You come racing out onto the back porch, eyes wide, smile even wider, and he could melt into a puddle right there in the hot summer sun. You’re brighter than all of it.

He pulls you into a kiss right there, in front of everyone, earning a series of surprised yelps and gasps and cheers. He doesn’t care about anything else. You’re here, and you’re kissing him back, and that’s more than enough.

“Fucking called it!” Trevor yells, and Jack laughs.

“We all did,” Quinn says. “Glad you two finally figured it out.”

You won’t be here forever. You have work, and a life in the city. But for now, for this little slice of time, he gets to have everything he’s always wanted. That’ll hold him over for the rest of the off season. Or, more likely, until he caves in and gets an early flight back to Jersey to spend more time with you. From the way you smile when you stare up at him, he thinks it probably won’t be long.

a/n: thanks for reading! have been wanting to write about Jack for a bit & he’s just so best friends to lovers coded. so here we go!

[pitchsidestories]

the favourite II Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2349

a/n: hi everyone, this oneshot is a longer one, so get cozy. <3

The golden hour has just begun in the beautiful city of Barcelona, you were finally done with correcting your student’s paper, so you were able to continue reading the book on the sofa, which was the perfect way to clock off of work in your opinion.

The happy mood slightly shifted when you thought back to the phone call you had with your girlfriend earlier that day. Aitana told you she was injured and that she was coming back home this evening.

You felt guilty, because partly you were happy about the fact that your lover was about to return to you, this year has been a lot for her work wise, and you rarely got time to spend together as a couple, apart from you trying to be there in the stands at every home game or final. It didn’t surprise you that the midfielder’s body was exhausted from all of this.

On the other hand, Aitana loved playing football so much, so it would be hard to not see her doing what she was so passionate about. You realized reading at this point was impossible, there were too many thoughts running through your mind.

“Hola, mi amor.”, you greeted her warmly, as you heard her opening the front door.

“Hola.”, the football player replied in a cheerful tone which tried to hide the disappointment the brunette felt.

Immediately you jumped off the sofa to give her a much-needed hug. “How are you? I know you had to leave national team camp early.”

“It’s nothing too bad, don’t worry.”, Aitana reassured you with a weak smile on her lips.

“But I do worry a little.”, you admitted concerned while running a hand through your girlfriends open hair, something you knew she liked, because it had a soothing effect on her.

You caught her looking at the papers which were still laying on your kitchen table, so you added quickly:” Sorry, I’ll take those to my office.”

“No, it’s fine. Stay, you’re busy.”, the midfielder slowly shook her head.

“I’m actually done with going through them. My students wrote about their role models, and I spotted some familiar names quite a few times.”, you remembered, smiling fondly at the memory.

“Oh really? Like whose names?”, Aitana looked up curiously.

“Like Patri, Alexia, Salma, but you’ve been mentioned the most. Wait-”, you counted them off on your fingers. You proudly showed your girlfriend the texts which were about her.

“I didn’t know your students cared so much about football, specifically women’s football.”, the midfielder muttered amazed, while devouring the handwritten pages.

“I know, the view definitely changed in recent years… Remember when we were at school and no one seemed to care about women’s football?”, you asked, thinking back to the time when you and Aitana met for the first time. You were best friends in school, always stuck together. Until things changed in your teenage years.

Unhappily, your girlfriend put the papers back on the table: “They always said that we can’t play with the boys.”

“Or that we would never be as good as them.“, you added. “Which I was okay with because I always preferred books over balls, but I admired you for not listening to these voices.”

You had loved a good football match when you were younger, but you never had the same burning desire to play that Aitana possessed.

“That’s all I ever wanted to do, kick a ball around.”, Aitana shrugged and even though a lot had changed since your school days, you felt reminded of the younger Aitana. The quiet girl that defiantly fought for her right to play football.

You smiled softly: “I know, and it got you very far.”

“I never knew it would.”, Aitana replied, clearly lost in her own thoughts about her career.

“But it did.” You took a deep breath. The idea that had been floating around your head since you read the papers started to take form on the tip of your tongue. “Could you do me a favour?”

“Sure, which one?”, your girlfriend answered quickly.

“Maybe you could visit my class to talk a bit about your life as a football player? It would mean the world to them. You’re clearly one of their favorites.” You nodded in the direction of the pages piled on the table.

Aitana did not answer. She stared at you speechlessly until she found her voice a second later: “Your students want to see… me?”

She looked so surprised that you had to bite back a laugh. “Yes, they would love that.”

Aitana beamed: “Sure. Of course I’m coming.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You leaned over for a quick kiss: “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s a pleasure.”

“But for now…”

Your girlfriend raised her eyebrows in expectancy: “Yes?”

“Cuddles?”, you asked innocently, ready to wrap your arms around her.

“Please.”, she smiled. You threw yourself against her body, tightly hugging her.

Laughing, Aitana let herself fall backwards against the armrest of the sofa so you could lay on top of her.

She started to run her fingers across your back: “This is nice.”

Your girlfriend paused for a moment, before adding with a smirk on her lips:” But not as comfortable as in our bed.”

“You’re right let’s go to our bedroom.”, you agreed as you helped her getting into a standing position.

“Coming.”, Aitana answered. With a soft sigh the midfielder landed on your double bed.

“This is so much better.”, she declared, eyes closed. The bedding felt pleasantly cool underneath her body while you laid down next to her.  

“Perfect.”, you mumbled. Grinning you continued:” Do you want me to read out to you a little?”

“Sure.”, the football player nodded, there was nothing in the world she found more soothing than listening to your voice.

“Okay.”, you happily obliged to it. After a couple of pages, you realized that your girlfriend was becoming sleepy. Quietly you put your book on the nightstand.

“Sleep well, Tana.”

“Night.”, Aitana whispered before inevitably sleep took it’s hold over her.

In the mornings you were always the first of you two to get up, as you needed to be ready for school. Much to your own surprise you realized that the midfielder was awake too:” Good morning.”

“Morning, amor.”, she replied, before placing a sweet kiss to your mouth.

“You know that you can still stay in bed, right?”, you muttered blushing. After all those years the brunette still had that effect on you.

“I know, but I couldn’t sleep anymore.”, Aitana admitted smiling sheepishly.

“I guess I’ll make two cups of coffees this morning.”, you remarked.

“Please.”, your girlfriend responded. When the dark-haired woman was holding the warm drink in her hand, she thanked you with another kiss.

“You’re welcome.”, you replied, enjoying one of the rare mornings you both had together.

You wished you could enjoy that moment for a little bit longer but looking at the clock on the wall you cursed under your breath:” Oh shit, I need to go!”

“Have fun. I’ll see you later.”, Aitana winked at you.

“Bye.”, you blew her a kiss, before making your way out of your home, ready for another day with your classes which were all dear to your heart.

The day arrived when Aitana was about to meet them for a lesson, you beamed excited at her:” Ready, love?”

“Ready.”, she nodded, your girlfriend was glad to have some distraction from her injury for at least the upcoming two hours. For a second you pressed her hand encouragingly, before leading her into the classroom.

“Good morning, everyone. Today we’ve a very special guest.”, you announced cheerfully.

A young girl with blonde hair called Imma sat in the front row and gasped audibly: “Oh my god, Aitana!“

She stared at the football player with widened eyes.

Your girlfriend smiled politely before introducing herself: “Hi, I’m Aitana Bonmatí. I’m a football player for FC Barcelona.“

“Can we ask her some questions?“, Jordi asked curiously. You knew that the lanky boy had vast interest in all kinds of football, no matter if the players were male or female.

You nodded, watching as his eyes sparkled in excitement: “Sure, that’s why she came.“

“Go ahead.“, Aitana prompted, trying to get the children to ask questions.

Imma raised her hand hesitantly: “From where do you know, Miss y/l/n?“

Your girlfriends gaze subconsciously drifted into your direction. You shared a smile for a split second.

With an eye-roll, Jordi complained: “That’s such a boring question, Imma!“

“I think that’s a very good question. We went to school together years ago.“, Aitana answered the question truthfully.

Jordi snorted: “Was she reading books back then too?“

You had to stop yourself from telling him, once again that reading was not only good for them but also a lot of fun. You tried to encourage your class to read every chance they got.

Before you could say anything, Aitana grinned: “Oh yes. She always loved books.“

“But I can play a bit too.“, you added innocently.

“Yeah. She’s pretty good.“, your girlfriend had to agree.

For once, Jordi was silent, looking from you to Aitana and back. A challenging smile appeared on his face: “We need to see that after class. But how did it feel to win the Ballon d’Or?“

“Amazing. It was a great honour but I couldn’t have done it without my team.“

“And you also won the Champions League!“, a red-haired girl interrupted with a big toothy grin.

“Yes, that was amazing too.“, the football player nodded.

Julias cheeks turned almost as red as her hair from exhilaration: “So cool!“

“I’m lucky to have such a great team around me.“, you heard Aitana say and you almost grimaced at how humble she was in front of your students.

Julia immediately followed with the next question, not allowing your girlfriend a break: “Do you have a favourite teammate? And is it Rolfö?“

Aitana laughed, surprised by the question: “I have a lot of favourite teammates. And Frido is one of them. She’s great, very sweet.“

“Like a team mum?“, Imma piped up.

“A bit, yes.“

“That’s cute.“, Imma commented happily.

“But we have a lot of people who can step up as team mums.“, the midfielder continued.

“Aitana, how’s your injury?”, Jordi changed the subject to a more serious one.

“It’s not too bad. They just wanted to be careful, so it doesn’t get worse.”, the midfielder waved it off in a reassuring way.

“Oh, good.”, he sighed relieved.

 “So now I’m here and can hang out with you guys.”, Aitana clapped enthusiastically her hands.

“Exactly.”, you smiled proudly at her.  

“Sorry, did you want to continue, amor?”, your girlfriend looked at you expectantly.

“No, I just wanted to say that the class is ending soon.”, you shook your head.

“Any more questions?”, the football player turned her attention to your students again.

“Can we play now?”, Jordi asked her innocently.

“Of course. Let’s go and play some football.”, Aitana agreed, her eyes mirroring the excitement of the little boy who was very thrilled to play with a Barcelona player.

On her way out, she couldn’t help but to tease you in front of the children:” Let’s see how good your teacher still is.”

“I’ll show you!”, you laughed.

“Prove it.”, the midfielder gave you a playful challenging look.

One of your students was handing you the football, so you did one of the football tricks you still knew before kicking it into the empty goal, making the boys and girls erupt into a loud cheer.

“See? She didn’t forget anything.”, Aitana said, her voice full of admiration.

“Wow.”, Jordi followed your moves with the football amazed.

“Not, bad, right?”, Aitana questioned him amused.

“Not as good as you are though.”, you whispered into her ear.

“Oh, if you got paid to play football all day, you’d also be good.”, she stated firmly.

“Yes, but I love my job, just look at their eyes.”, you replied, your girlfriend did what you asked her to do. The girls and boys faces lit up while playing football in front of one of their idols.

Afterwards she looked back at you in adoration: “I only must look in your eyes. You were made to work with children. They adore you.”

You weren’t even a big Taylor Swift fan, but your friends and the older students were and there was a line in one of her songs, which you quietly sung to her, before you looped the ball over the midfielder:” You know how to ball, I know Aristotle.”

“Excuse me?! What was that?!”, Aitana’s mouth fell wide open.

“I don’t know how I did it either!”, you confessed.

“That was impressive as hell!”, Jordi told you.

With sparkling eyes, Imma demanded: “Do it again!“

“Yes, do it again.“, Aitana smirked.

“Like this?“, you asked before trying to play the ball over the worlds best female footballer again. This time, you were less lucky and the ball came at the perfect height for Aitana to easily head it back to you.

“Oh no, it didn’t work.“ Julia sounded slightly disappointed.

You shrugged, trying to use the opportunity to teach your students a valuable lesson: “The good thing is, one can always try again.“

Aitana instead winked at them: “Don’t worry, I’ll teach her at home.“

Imma frowned in confusion: “At home? Do you two live together?“

“Are you stupid? She called her amor earlier!“, Jordi groaned.

The smaller girls eyes widened: “She did?“

“Yes!“

Aitana smiled at you, subtly linking your pinkies together: “She’s my best friend but also my girlfriend.“

“Oh.“ Julia made a delighted sound.

Jordi rolled his eyes: “They love each other, it’s so obvious, girls.“

And then he was back to kicking the ball around. Julia and Imma quickly chased after him, trying to get the ball.

You and your girlfriend stood in comfortable silence, still holding hands and watching the children run around you.

In this moment you were hit with the realization that this was exactly all you ever wanted from life.

[saphronethaleph]

Comparative Healing 202

“...he had such a knowledge of the Dark Side that he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying,” Palpatine explained.

“Really?” Anakin asked. “That’s strange… I wonder how that works.”

“It’s a power that you can’t learn from a Jedi,” Palpatine said, delicately. “The Dark Side is a path to many abilities that some consider… unnatural.”

Anakin frowned. “I guess,” he said. “But what I mean is, how it’s different from the Light Side way of doing it.”

Palpatine looked at Anakin.

“What do you mean?” he asked, a little puzzled.

“I asked Master Kcaj, I think he’s attending the performance actually,” Anakin explained, with a little shrug. “He took me through Light Side Force Healing 201, he said it was good that I was learning to solve problems in ways that didn’t involve a lightsaber.”

The Knight frowned. “Well, he just called it Force Healing 201, because I don’t think he knew there was a Dark Side version, but I guess that makes sense, because that kind of thing would have to be really, really old by now. Was Darth Plagueis killed by one of the Jedi during the Jedi-Sith Wars or was he a victim of infighting?”

“He wasn’t-” Palpatine began, but Anakin was shaking his head.

“Actually, now I come to think about it, the way the Light Side version of Force Healing works, the way it’s Light Side is that you have to personally pay for the cost,” he said. “I guess it’s kind of ironic, really, because it means that Jedi can keep other people from dying, but we can’t keep ourselves from dying… we’d have to take on our own wounds and we’d be back where they started. There’s other things we can do to make it so that injuries aren’t as serious, but those only work for ourselves, so it’s… actually a way that you can combine two techniques to get a net benefit.”

Palpatine blinked, still about one and a half sentences behind and trying to catch up. “I… suppose it is ironic, yes,” he said. “Darth Plagueis the Wise had the same problem.”

Anakin frowned. “Chancellor, how do you know about this? Are you sure that it was a Sith? Because the Force Healing technique you’ve mentioned sounds a lot like it has the same limitations as the Jedi one, so maybe it’s actually been distorted and corrupted over more than a thousand years. It could even be that he wasn’t called Darth Plagueis but was called something that sounded that way and the story’s been corrupted over the centuries. You know, like Sifo-Dyas and Sidious, that only took a few years.”

“I’m sorry, Anakin?” Palpatine said, after a pause to try and avoid panicking when Anakin linked the two names. “What do you mean? This isn’t… it’s the story of a Sith.”

“Sure, that’s what you’re aware of,” Anakin replied. “And maybe it’s correct, but there’s lots of possibilities even then, right? It could be that he discovered the Jedi healing technique independently, or it could be that he stole it from the Jedi. Maybe the Jedi stole it from him and they don’t tell the story because it’s embarrassing to admit that the most highly restricted healing techniques are something originally invented by the Sith. Or maybe they let this Darth Plagueis guy borrow some holobooks from the Jedi library and he stole them, and they’re embarrassed now.”

Anakin ticked off points on his fingers. “Oh, and there’s also the possibility that if a Sith stole holobooks on Force Healing he’d have done it in a way that couldn’t be traced back to him, so the Jedi wouldn’t tell the story because they just flat-out didn’t know.”

“This is not a story from a thousand years ago,” Palpatine said. “It’s a story from only a few decades ago, as it happens, so it is definitely not warped by time!”

“Not more than the Sifo-Dyas thing,” Anakin pointed out, helpfully. “But yeah, it’s now really obvious why the Jedi don’t tell me about it, because it’s either really catastrophically embarrassing because it would mean that the Jedi literally didn’t realize the Sith were back despite a Sith stealing some library books, or they just have no way of knowing in the first place. I guess I’m more interested in the second one, though… does this story go into any more detail about how Plagueis did the Force Healing? If they genuinely are Light Side and Dark Side and that’s different, then it’s interesting.”

“I… didn’t take you as someone to be interested in healing,” Palpatine admitted, since it was about the only response he could think of at that point.

“I didn’t think I’d be interested either,” Anakin said, readily. “But Master Kcaj had this great analogy, he said that it was like being a mechanic of the body. Isn’t that such a cool concept? The heart’s the motivator, that kind of thing… and the better I understand that the more I can work on not needing to use the Force to heal people, except in a real emergency anyway. All I need is to use it to stabilize someone, and then I can get them the rest of the way to safety.”

Palpatine nodded.

“A… useful endeavour,” he said, in as fatherly a tone as he could manage, and tried to get back on script. “As I said, Plagueis could use the Force to influence the midi-chlorians to create life. He taught his apprentice everything he knew, and then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. He never saw it coming.”

“Oh, right,” Anakin replied, nodding. “Yeah, I think this sounds like a badly garbled origin story for the Sith.”

“Excuse me?” Palpatine asked.

“If Darth Plagueis was a Sith who’d taught his apprentice everything, then how would he not expect to be betrayed?” Anakin asked. “It makes much more sense if this apprentice was actually the first Sith and Plagueis being a Sith got read back into the story at a later date… but I’m still not sure how to get the midi-chlorians to create life. They’re our connection to the Force, it’s not about a connection to the Dark Side specifically. Unless what he’s doing is forcing the midi-chlorians to create life when it shouldn’t be, that would be a Dark Side thing that violates the balance in the universe while Light Side techniques are about balance – that’s why Light Side healing involves paying for taking away a wound by taking on a wound. Balance.”

Anakin glanced at his chrono. “Huh, I should probably get going… I need to tell the Council that thing you mentioned about Grievous hiding in the Utapau System.”

“Come, now, Anakin,” Palpatine said. “You can’t find yourself running around doing the bidding of the Jedi Council all the time. We were talking about this. They don’t necessarily have your best interests at heart.”

“I know, Chancellor,” Anakin replied, nodding. “But I don’t speak Quarren and I think if I need to watch five more minutes of this ballet I’m going to pass out from boredom.”

“This ballet is in Mon Cal,” Palpatine said.

“Yeah, I don’t speak that either,” Anakin shrugged.

“Did you know the Chancellor’s really interested in old stories about the Sith?” Anakin asked Obi-Wan, back in the Temple. “Fascinated by them.”

“He is?” Obi-Wan replied. “I’ve never got that sense.”

“No, it was a surprise to me, too,” Anakin agreed, shrugging. “But he was telling me this story about a Darth Plagueis who could heal people. It’s a weird kind of healing, though, using midi-chlorians to create life? At least that’s what the Chancellor said… he said the Jedi didn’t know about it, so I guess it must be an old story, even though he said it was recent. I wondered if maybe it was twenty generations ago instead of twenty years, or something like that.”

“I won’t lie, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “I don’t know what I expected your assignment to result in, but this isn’t it.”

Anakin sighed. “Master… I can’t do it, okay? I can’t spy on someone who’s been such a friend to me. Sithspit, all I’m really doing is sharing gossip he brought upand that still makes me feel dirty.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I understand, Anakin,” he said. “The problem is really that there’s… a question about how independent the Jedi Temple is.”

He indicated the nearest landing pad, which had a trio of gunships waiting there. “We’ve been acting as generals for the last two years at least… the Chancellor feels that he can make decisions about who becomes a member of the Council… regardless of your abilities and suitability for the role, Anakin, after he suggested you it was impossible for us to put you on the Council with the rank of Master. It would set a precedent that the Jedi are simply another department of the government for the Chancellor to control.”

Anakin looked thoughtful.

“I hadn’t realized that,” he admitted. “I don’t think the Chancellor would do that, though.”

“The problem isn’t with this Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied. “It’s with the next Chancellor. Or the one after that.”

He spread his hands. “Really, I think part of this is my fault. I didn’t try hard enough to make sure you learned the political skill a Jedi needs.”

“Master, you’re really good at that kind of thing,” Anakin protested. “I’m more into… aggressive negotiations.”

“Indeed,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin waited.

“...you’re supposed to tell me I’m not that bad,” he said, eventually.

“I know I’m supposed to,” Obi-Wan said, virtuously.

Anakin rolled his eyes.

“Oh, before I forget,” he went on. “The Chancellor did say General Grievous is on Utapau.”

“Noted,” Obi-Wan said. “Now, what’s this story about Sith healing that the Chancellor told you? I’ve never heard of Darth Plagueis before.”

When Anakin had finished recounting the conversation, they were most of the way to the Council chamber, and he shrugged.

“You get what I mean… right?” he said, then took note of Obi-Wan’s disturbed expression. “Is something wrong, Master?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied, firmly. “Anakin, what you’ve just described is exactly how it would look if Palpatine was trying to hint that he could teach you a Sith technique.”

“Really?” Anakin asked. “The Chancellor be able to use Sith techniques? There’s no way that is possible…”

He got out his datapad, and began flicking through records. “He’d have to be able to use the Force, and his midi-chlorian count is… is… not here?”

Anakin looked up. “Didn’t the whole Senate get tested to see if any of them was Darth Sidious?”

“Now I’m very worried,” Obi-Wan declared. “I know he’s your friend, Anakin, but how possible is it that Palpatine is Sidious?”

Anakin considered that.

“Do you think that explains why he ordered me to cut Dooku’s head off and leave you on a starship that was about to explode?” he asked.

“Definitely need to teach you politics,” Obi-Wan muttered.

[marlair]

Hello hello! Can you write twisted wonderland perfect + lilia if that's not to much– with gn reader similar to frieren?? (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

i’ll choose a life where my hand never leaves yours

syn. wise old elf, basically.

gn!yuu + frieren!yuu , no use of y/n, you’re referred to as yuu.

book 7 spoilers . not proofread

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

as someone who works hard to make sure his magic meets expectations and above, seeing you flawlessly just do and perform spells perfectly makes you someone he’s willing to admire.

(though your somewhat lazy nature confuses him a tad.)

he is someone who rushes things, especially before his overblot.

when the parties need to be perfect, when your students need to be exemplary, and when you need to be a perfect example, it’s hard not to rush things.

you, being a long-lived elf, having lived longer than even diasomnia’s vice housewarden, know very well that taking it slow helps. a lot.

“Riddle,” you start, reaching down and resting your hand on his shoulder. The tension rushing through the redheads body lessens when your hand finds its way to him, and he- subtly but clear to your eyes, leans into your touch and slightly melts into his chair.

Riddle turns his head and looks down to meet your eyes, putting his hand on yours on his shoulder, tugging it down gently and intertwining your fingers. “Mh?” He hummed, a bit too preoccupied with all the papers on his table.

He had the Heartslabyul students’ grade reports, the plans for the unbirthday party coming up, letters from his mother, letters from che’nya, a half-written request to the headmaster for funding for further unbirthday parties, and—

“Take it easy,” you say, rubbing small circles onto the back of his hand, and the thoughts about all the work he had to do, even if only for a moment, rushed out of his mind with a sigh.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

you probably remind him of malleus- it doesn’t mean he hates you, he just.. feels some mild dislike for you sometimes.

in what situation would you two even encounter each other?

probably in the botanical garden, actually.

or somewhere outside, which is most likely where he is, considering he isn’t in classes.. at all, basically.

he’d appreciate how slow you take life in.

it’s calming, he doesn’t know how or why.

it just feels nice to be around you, he guesses.

“Ugh!” Leona groans, immediately sitting up from his laying position on the ground of the botanical garden. 

Who the *🐭* stepped on his tail?

By pure instinct, he took a sniff of the air, and—

It wasn’t a smell he recognized. Some parts of it were familiar to him, but he didn’t recognize even the species of this audacious person.

… What the *🐭*

He looked up to see someone who didn’t look a day above 14 or so, but also happened to have a trait common with fae folk- pointed ears.

So, it’s some fae who decided to step on his tail and not look where they were going, huh?

He’d deal with this promptly.

(After getting terribly humbled by your magical prowess, he’s decided that no, he did not deal with it promptly.)

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

best believe he is desperate for your magic.

he sees you use a spell that only Lilia Vanrouge himself can vaguely recognize, and he realizes your knowledge is something he needs.

you can never know too much, isn’t that true?

(you’d like to disagree.)

a subtle sharing of your wisdom teaches him that there is much he doesn’t know, but also much he’d better not know.

just like riddle, azul struggles with pacing his, well, life.

tell him to take it easy. there’s no rush, especially considering you both have higher lifespans than regular humans.

what do jade and floyd think about you?

…

it’s for the better that you don’t know.

KALIM AL-ASIM

now that i’m writing this, i realize that a lot of the housewardens can’t give theirself a break.

is kalim one of those housewardens?

.. i guess we’ll never know.

it’s not that he’s stressing himself out, he’s just a bit.. energetic.

again, again, you calm him down.

slowly, slightly. but as time passes, the change becomes obvious.

in more ways than one.

“.. Oh my Sevens?” Jamil lets out with a gasp, looking at..

Looking at the Kalim Al-Asim… sweeping the floor. After a party. Half of the room was clean. And Jamil hadn’t even gotten his broom out.

Is this what Cater meant when he said he ‘experienced culture shock’?. Because, oh, boy, Jamil is shocked.

“Kalim-” He didn’t even get to finish the sentence he wanted to say. ‘Kalim, who told you to do this?’. Yeah, Jamil would sometimes daydream about Kalim doing all the work, but it’s not like he actually expected Kalim to do work.

Kalim, grinning as if he didn’t just rock Jamil’s world, said, “Yuu told me that hard work after relaxation and vice versa is the best! I’m doing hard work! It’s fun!”

Fun? Jamil incredulously thinks before getting his wrist grabbed by Kalim.

Did Kalim only think it was fun because he hadn’t done it before? Yes. Is it fun? To Kalim! And that’s enough!

VIL SCHOENHEIT

imagine being able to look so incredibly young when you’re much older than even Leona, the oldest student disregarding the fae, hah.

haha.

is vil jealous?

…

yeah.

forever youth, and even heightened magical prowess. vil thought he’d gotten used to it with the fae, but finding out there was yet another species similar?

it kind of lowkey makes his blood boil. why isn’t it him that gets to be born like that?

anyways. vil’s someone who, finally, knows how to pace himself.

so, you can finally show another side of yourself.

the lazy side of you.

okay, lazy is a strong word.

It was a well known fact to all that Vil Schoenheit had a good morning routine. The first step was to wake up early.

He usually woke up at around 5:00, 5:25 if he was feeling a bit tired. Maybe even 5:30 if he was feeling bold.

Today, he woke up at 6:00. 

Six in the morning. Much later than usual. The only question he has right now is how? His body clock had already been adjusted to waking up at 5:00, it’d been like that for a long time.

He, sitting up on his bed, looks beside him to see the small frame of another person, still asleep and long hair askew.

Oh, he thinks briefly, that’s why.

IDIA SHROUD

genuinely, i’m so sorry.

he has knowledge of elves, which surprised you greatly. and when you asked where he found out..

what is an ‘ahn-eh-mei’ supposed to be? why did shroud like it so much? and how is it, aside from old scriptures created by fae that may no longer even be alive, have some of the only mentions of elves you’ve seen at all in this world?

you knew the elf race was dwindling and may even go extinct, but darn.

when you asked him to show you what those cute little cartoons showed elves as..

for some reason, his face- and hair!- went pink.

.. huh. weird.

i mean, it can’t be that bad. right?

‘Oh my,’ you think internally, ‘it is that bad.’. Idia, hair and face pink, holds his phone and points the screen in your direction. On it’s screen displays a.. big.. breasted, blonde haired, in- in such scandalous clothing.. a woman like that.

And she had pointed ears, just like yours. A bit smaller than yours, though.

Is this really what people in this realm think of elves? It’s.. Well, you can’t speak for all elves, you barely even know if more elves exist even in your own realm, but.. uh.

What you saw on the screen was a.. really interesting interpretation!

You don’t even know any person this… lustful, in your own realm. And you especially don’t know any elves like that. It’s.. Odd.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

he is shocked. his world is shaken, he’s trembling in his boots, even.

someone older than even lilia.. really? truly? 

the moment he makes it onto ramshackle the first time you’d arrived, he’d sensed a familiar presence.

familiar not in the sense that he knew the person behind it, but familiar as in it felt like someone old, wise.

it felt like a presence he’d felt before he hatched in the egg.

he wanted to rush to that presence, but..

he didn’t want to scare you. especially not when your.. essence..? your essence made him want to lay his head on your lap, or cry on your shoulder, or share a cake with you knowing he wasn’t alone.

not when your presence felt like a lullaby he remembers only vaguely.

LILIA VANROUGE

he is this emoji: 😱.

if he’s old, then what are you? a relic?

the him from the past might’ve felt threatened, concerned what someone of your age would want with him and his people.

now? of course, he’s still concerned at what you’d want with his family, but when he sees you talking calmly with his sons- even befriending malleus, he starts to appreciate you.

he kind of wanted to cry in joy after he saw malleus in the courtyard, having lunch with a friend!

he’d.. also.. sigh, appreciate you teaching him spells. 😔..

he simply has to know the spell that makes a field of flowers! imagine the sleeping spots that silver would get to have!

[diorchids]

after-class, simon ‘ghost’ riley.

cw; professor!simon, age gap, teacher-student, manipulation, oral, impact (spanking), size kink, degradation, rough sex.

your professor was harsh. grading-wise, he never let the smallest things slide. he docked points pettily, even for minor errors. 

“thank you for your participation today, class dismissed.” as your classmates began to pack up, preparing for an exhausting day tomorrow. “but you,” he looks at you, standing in that small dress, in one of the front rows. “you will stay.” 

your mouth was left slightly agape, brushing the hair out of your face as you questioned yourself. did you forget to submit an assignment? a discussion post overdue?

you nod slowly as the last people begin to make their way out the doors. he spoke from his desk, sitting on it as he motioned for you to come down, “what are you waiting for? here, come here.” he said it in a way that made you feel dumb. you made your way to him, fingernails digging into your palm, sure to leave marks. 

you stood a few feet away from him, keeping an appropriate distance from simon. after all; he’s your professor. 

“your research paper; it was lousy. i wouldn’t have expected it from you, to be honest,” he said bluntly, emotions weren’t very visible. he was just… neutral. 

your face—on the other hand—was hot, a soft frown crept onto it as your head filled with thoughts. this was bad, but you couldn’t help but think of how long he must’ve thought about you and your paper. “i… professor riley, i honestly thought it was my best work,” you continued, “the writing was—” 

he interrupted blatantly, and you slowly inched closer subconsciously. “simon. call me simon.” your fingers fiddled with your dress before nodding. “yes, sir—simon.”

you stood in front of him as you two sat in an awkward silence, while he examined your body. your dress was just too short, not appropriate for class, too much showing. his big hand reached out to your dress, gripping and tugging it as you watched silently. your eyes were wide, his eyes were half-lidded as he sat back. “dress code.” 

it wasn’t a dress code. you have no dress code—he just wanted to touch you. 

he exhaled and pinched his temples, “y’know,” he sighed, “you’re a great writer, you know what you’re doing. but this… it’s unacceptable,” you’re not used to letting him down like this, always making sure to do your best in all of your courses. 

“you’re a big girl now. you’re borderline failing my course.” 

you blink back tears as you dig your nails deeper into your palm. you’re so sensitive, can’t even take a bit of criticism. he continued speaking as you listened intently. his hand slowly crept its way to your leg as you watched shamefully, failing to stop the man. 

“this could be bad for you, hm?” he asked, tilting his head. “i’m sure you wanna write in the future, don’t you?” he stood up, your tall professor towering over you, “you let me finish what i’ve started, and i could up your grade a bit.” he took advantage of the size difference, your height in comparison to him was, at the very least, small. 

you hesitated to nod your head. he was a professor wanting to take advantage of a student; how vile is that? 

“perfect.” 

you stood there aimlessly before he gently took one of your hands into his own and guided it toward his zipper. he held your hand against his bulge, urging you to squeeze and give him a good rub. 

simon lets out a low groan as you take his cock into your mouth. he cups your head gently, holding you in place as you begin to suck and lick on him.

his cock was thick, dragging in and out of your mouth as he pushed his hips back and forth, your warm throat taking him so well. he held the sides of your head, and you gagged around his ridiculous length each time he pushed into your mouth fully. 

“disgusting. look at you.” he pistoned his cock deeper as your eyes welled with tears before they down your face. his fingers tangle in your hair before pushing your head further down, your nose nestled in the short hairs along the base of his girthy cock. 

you needed air, you pulled off him abruptly as you coughed messily, catching your breath. your lips wrapped around his red, swollen tip perfectly while your hand stroked the base softly. 

his hips start to move rhythmically, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth roughly. he grabs your head tightly and starts thrusting deeper into your throat, pushing past the back of your mouth. “take it all. just like that.” he continued to use your throat as a fleshlight.

simon’s cock throbs in your throat, his balls slapping against your chin. your head is pounding by now, your legs burn and your neck hurts. don’t forget what you’re doing this for. 

“fuckin’ delicious, fuck.” he grinds against your face harder, his hips moving at a rapid pace as he approaches his climax. 

he groans loudly, his hot seed shooting down your throat in powerful spurts. he pumps his thick cum deep into your mouth, filling it to the brim. he continues to hold you in place, his cock twitching as he unloads it all into your mouth. “swallow it all,” he said in between labored breaths, still softly thrusting himself into your mouth.

“what an angel you are, hm?” you choke and gag as he pulls out, a thick string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. he pants heavily with a smile plastered on his face while looking down at you in satisfaction. 

you’re bent over his desk as he delivers another painful strike across your ass, dress driven up to your hips as you squirmed. “you’re almost ready.” he said, big hand soothing your burning cheek. 

“hurts s’bad, sir—simon!” you cried out while his thick fingers made its way to your cunt. his thumb sat on your slit as he massaged your clit through your panties, small cherries on all over them. his finger dipped into your underwear, running over your wetness as you felt shame wash over you. 

doing all this just to not fail? letting your professor touch you like this—sucking him off while your friends were probably asleep. desperate was an understatement.

he played with your cunt ‘till you came all over him, poor thing can’t control your body, huh?

his thick cockhead tapped against your flush cunt, all sensitive and puffy from the abuse it’s suffered. you felt how big his cock was as it poked at your hole, his large hand guiding it up and dragging it all over your hole. he pushed into you as you cried in pain, tears rolling as he bottomed out inside of you. at least tried to.

his hands rest on your waist, gripping your hips as he fills you up to the hilt, groaning out disgusting degrading words, mumbling ���bout how tight you are. 

“god, you’re tight. such a little thing—takin’ your teacher like this,” he delivers a harsh strike to your soft ass, “knew you’d be up for it.”

he dragged his heavy cock out of you just to plunge it back in, deeper. “mr. ri—simon! s’too big! n-no, no, no, slow down!” you cried out loudly as he held you in place, making sure you took him all the way. 

he chuckles softly and begins to thrust faster, his cock stretching you open as it slides in and out. he leans down to capture one of your nipples in between his index thumb, rolling and pinching harshly as he fucks you. “it's okay, you can take it. you’re gonna take it. you want a good grade.” his words reassuring, but also bits of condescension poked through. 

salty tears fell onto his desk as your legs trembled from the overstimulating heat in your tummy. 

simon picks up the pace, his hips slapping against you as he takes you harder and faster. he continues to roll your nipple, his free hand moving to grope your ass cheek. “tell your—tell your teacher how much you love his dick, tell me.” 

this was odd. he knows it’s wrong, to do this with a student. he acknowledges it, yet he loves the power he has over you. you’re like a puppet. 

you act like you don’t want it. you do. the way you suck him right back in, the way your gummy walls grip and squeeze his thick cock, you need this. 

“love it… love it s’much! feels so good, simon…” you cried loudly, making sure he heard you. 

his thrusts become deeper and harder, his cock hitting your deepest spots with each powerful stroke. simon’s free hand leaves your ass cheek to wrap around your throbbing clit, rubbing it roughly against your sensitive folds. each time his finger runs over your puffy clit, your walls tensed around him, practically choking his length. “that’s it… that’s it, cum for me.” 

with a final, rough thrust, simon groans loudly as he empties himself deep inside you. he slows his movements, his cock pulsating rhythmically inside you. he looks down at you, affectionately stroking your hair. he holds you tightly, your bodies moving in a rhythm as he continues to pump his seed into you.

he thrusts a few more times, getting those last spurts of cum out. 

“we can—we can discuss your grade tomorrow. how’s that sound?” his hand soothed your ass as you nodded. 

[traffytaffy]

OP Men and “confessing”

Ft. Law, Kid, Zoro

Hey! I was not expecting how the last post was going to go. So thank you so much! As promised, i made a follow up. Im sorry it took so long as well….i hit a writers block😙

So consider this part 2 to this post!⤵️

OP Men and being “told” they are in love with you

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Law;

This was an accident. An accident in which he wanted to throw Shachi, Penguin, Ikakku, and Bepo overboard.

You were ordered to organize medical supplies in the closet that was connected to the room he was in. You kept the lights off cause the light of the room Law was in lit up the closet so you could see just fine.

The group barges in.

“Captain, we dont know where your little crush is at. Have you seen them?” Penguin teases while asking curiously.

Law’s face goes cold. His eyes widen and his mouth opens and he does a “knock it off” motion with his hands.

“What? Your hands fell asleep?”

Law sighed.

“They’re right there.” He pointed at the closet door where you slowly walked out, a blush spreading to your ears at what Penguin had said.

Bepo, who was behind the rest slowly backed away. Law scowls at them. They knew where this was going. They have no chance to defend themselves before his fingers go up.

“Shambles”

~

You are left alone with Law. His eyes couldnt dare to meet yours.

“Dont listen to what they sa-“

“Is it true?” You interrupted him with slight hesitation.

His eyes finally met yours. He didnt have to say anything for you to understand what those yellow orbs were saying to you. And most of all, he knew he couldn’t lie to you at this point.

“Yes…” he says softly.

“Like….wise?”

He gasps softly and immediately looks up. His feet move on their own as he was no longer in his chair, but instead right in front of you.

“You mean that?”

You nod. More sure than anything.

Law leans close to you… he didnt know if what he was thinking was the right choice. Every little thing he did was thought for. It all had a plan, no matter how small it was. But there were rare occasions of impulsiveness…this was that occasion…He decided to take that risk.

His hand cups your cheek, your lips were caressed by back and forth swipes of his thumb.

“May I?” He asks, you can hear the boost of confidence in his voice behind the loud beats of your heart.

You don’t hesitate for once and nod. When your lips go crashing into one another, you can feel a few pair of eyes watching at the edge of the doorframe. They had somehow ran all the way from where they were sent so they didn’t miss the show. Law doesn’t pull away from this moment. A moment he waited ages for. But he does lift his hand up.

“Uh oh”

“Shambles”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Kid;

“Huh?” You raise your eyebrows at his declaration towards Killer. “What did Killer do?”

You had a soft look in your eyes. You were worried that you had done something or that you were unwanted in his workshop right now. “I can leave..”

“No,no. Stay.” Kid said with his usual rough voice but it had a hint of softness in it.

“What did you need me here for?”

“For nothing.” He said bluntly.

His lack of answers and short responses was making you feel stupid. Did he want you here or not? Frankly, you were starting to get a bit annoyed.

“Are you trying to mess with me or something?”

“What? Why would i do that?” He says as he turns back and does sketches for an upcoming design for some new machinery.

“I don’t know. You’re busy right now and killer sends me in here just for you to say you don’t need me! Did you want company?”

“No.”

You scoff. Kid notices his behavior and decides to tone it down.

“I-i mean yes. Company… sure”

You roll your eyes.

“Im leaving.”

But before you can walk off, a calloused and warm hand catches your wrist. A calloused and warm hand lifts your chin to meet his gaze. A calloused and warm hand cups your cheek. A calloused and warm hand goes behind your head and pulls you closer.

He studies your face. Making sure you were aware of what he was going to do. Making sure you were comfortable enough for him to proceed. When you give a slight nod, his red lips crash into yours… it was soft… testing-out-the-waters kind of soft until he decided to really get into it.

It isnt when he pulls away and you look up at him in shock that he gives you a smug smile.

“You can go now.”

You smile and begin to walk away, but before you do, you look at your face in a nearby reflection. Your lips had his lipstick stains and you look back at him.

“Damn. You need some kiss-proof lipstick”

You wipe the red smears off your lip.

“And you need to go to hell.”

But he did what you suggested. He bought kiss-proof lipstick…for you.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Zoro;

The crew was all gathered at the table for breakfast. A usual routine in the morning. But….everyone was at the table except you and Zoro.

Nami thought she hit jackpot with your late appearances. She leaned over towards Sanji and whispered in his ear. Sanji listened intently and did multiple “uh huh”’s in agreement before his eyes widened.

“HE’S WHAT!? ZORO’S IN LOVE WITH-“ He shouted out in which Nami quickly covered his mouth just in time.

“Shut up idiot! Thats why we’re asking for your help!”

“I’ll do it. Just to see y/n reject him” he smirked devilishly.

Nami face palmed and Robin giggled.

Soon enough, the plan was whispered to the entire table, and as soon as she sat back down, you walked in with Zoro right behind.

You sit down, Zoro right next to you as Sanji served breakfast. But just like Nami’s plan… and a touch of his self. He swooned over you. Every compliment in the book was thrown at you. You couldn’t help but blush and thank him.

Zoro on the other hand? He was fed up.

He could only take so much. But once he saw that Sanji was getting to you? He slammed his fist on the table, stood up, and faced Sanji, face to face.

“You trying to do something cook?”

“Like what? Serve my fellow crewmate?”

“You know damn well-“

“Why are you so mad anyways? You in love or something?” Sanji snapped back with a mocking tone at the end.

“Oh im going to end you!” Zoro unsheathes one of his swords.

“Try me!”

Zoro and Sanji both position themselves to fight each other. You stand up and get in between them.

“Enough! Sanji! Zoro! What has gotten into you?”

Zoro walks out the room with a huff. Everyone is left silent. You look around,a bit embarrassed before dashing out the door to catch up with Zoro. The cool breeze of the wind hits you as your eyes dart around the ship. He wasn’t in the crows nest. Not at the railings. Where was he?

But suddenly you can hear the sounds of knives sharpening. You turn the corner and see the green-haired man you had come to admire and love. You see him sitting in a corner, sharpening his blades. He can feel your presence and he immediately turns away.

You walk up to him and sit down.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Don’t play dumb”

He sighs, knowing he couldn’t run away from this. He literally couldn’t run away, considering they were in the middle of the ocean and he was too tired to throw himself overboard at this point.

“Why were you so defensive of me over Sanji?”

“Don’t play dumb” he repeats the words you had told him just a minute ago.

He places a hand on his heart and then with that same hand reaches to your chest and touches your heart. He gives you a look that says “do i have to say it out loud?”

Your eyes widen in realization. Was he saying that… he was in love with you? There was no doubt about it.

“Oh i see.”

Your short response made him scoff.

“Just forget it”

You notice that your reaction was getting to him. You had to fix this. You had to let him know that this wasn’t something to easily dismiss. Your hands instinctively reached out to his heart. His shoulder became a resting spot for your head. And his ear was all you needed to voice through to him.

“Im not.”

He softly gasps as he looks down at you. His face revealing a blush of a tomato.

“Shut up”

And all you do is giggle. Cause you..only you knew there was alot more care and heart in those words.

[lunasblunt]

about you

SFW!!!!

pairing: logan howlett x original fem!mutant character

summary: in the midst of a mission, terra, a mutant with the ability to manipulate earthly elements, convinces logan to leave the hotel room they’ve been confined in

suggested song: about you by the 1975 another pretty basic one ik but i always associate this song w the beach at night i just think it’s perfect for this

CW: drunk/intoxicated characters, sliiiight nsfw??? they swim in their underwear…., otherwise just fluff + some angst ig at the end

A/N: i have been so obsessed w the idea of this for so long u guys have no idea.

***not related to barracuda!!! just a fun little oneshot :)

terra slugs back a shot of whiskey straight from the bottle, trying her hardest not to make a face as logan watches her.

the two had finally started to get along, and it wasn’t everyday logan shared his liquor with anyone.

this mission had really gotten the best of them. they were drained, discouraged and sick of the hotel room the professor had provided them. it was only a matter of time before the two went crazy from staring at the same striped wallpaper.

“i don’t know how you do it,” the girl shakes her head, not fond of the taste lingering in her mouth. “whiskey is not my friend.”

logan lets out a low chuckle, taking a swig the second the bottle is back in his grip.

there’s a beat of silence, the voices of neighboring hotel rooms the only thing breaking the stillness. logan lets out a content sigh as he rests the bottle down. he was finally pretty tipsy, a feeling he’d been waiting on for the past few hours. terra, however, was already quite intoxicated; tossing back shots of tequila at the bar like it was nobody’s business.

a faint ticking of a clock causes the brunette to jump up. she was itching to leave that damn room, and if she heard that clock tick any longer she knew it wouldn’t end well.

“don’t you just…” she starts, propping herself up by sitting on her feet. logan turns his head slowly, savoring the sensation he’d accomplished. “want to get out?”

the man hums in response. she had a point. the two were trapped in this loop of visiting the bar, pretending to be people they’re not, then heading back to the hotel room.

it was starting to get exhausting.

on the other hand, logan knew he couldn’t disobey charles’s direct orders. his wise, trusting voice rang in logan’s ears.

“the professor gave us specific instructions.” he runs a hand through his hair. “it wouldn’t be smart to leave.”

terra rolls her eyes at this. in what world was logan, the wolverine for god’s sake, all for following rules?

“oh come on,” she says with a frown, not taking no for an answer. she scoots closer to him, softly poking a finger into his shoulder. “live a little.”

logan can’t suppress the genuine laugh that escapes his lips.

he’d lived a little too much. two hundred years under his belt… and counting.

with a sigh, logan stands from his seat on the floor. he gives a knowing look to the girl sat in front of him, then turns on his heel to grab his hotel key, reluctantly agreeing.

as the two walk further from the building, logan realizes he has no idea where the pair are even headed.

“so what’s your plan, princess,” the sarcastic nickname rolls off his drunken tongue. “just frolic around the streetlights at midnight? thrilling.”

terra rolls her eyes at the man’s remarks, then reaches for a hand.

“i need to show you something.”

something about the soft tone in her voice, or maybe the way her subtle smirk lit up her face as she turned to him, made the hair on logan’s arms stand. he found himself letting her lead the way without putting up fight, trying to piece together whatever feeling just washed over his body.

terra sports a mischievous grin as she reaches the beach she had taken note of just days before. she’d been dreaming about this area of town ever since she saw it and was eager to finally sink her feet into its sand.

when logan steps onto the beach, he mentally curses himself for not knowing any better. of course her of all people would bring him by the water in the middle of the night.

“the beach.” logan snarls, running his tongue over the inside of his cheek as he examines the area.

“it’s nice, isn’t it?” the girl takes in the fresh ocean air, still smiling.

logan lets a moment of silence linger between them, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

it was kind of nice.

as if a switch had been flipped, terra's quiet aura was suddenly replaced by a burst of energy she had been holding back for nights.

“come on!” she nudges the man toward the spot where the water meets the sand, her toes curling as its cold temperature runs over her bare feet.

logan watches, or supervises, rather, as terra drunkenly spins around, ankles deep, careless of her actions.

something about this felt so peaceful, grounding even. maybe it was witnessing someone truly care for the world around them, or maybe it was seeing how the girl no longer seemed concerned with his opinion of her. this was a side of her he’d never really seen. he wished he could capture the moment properly.

he tries to ignore the way that same feeling from earlier grew in his stomach, wishing he’d brought the whiskey with him.

“wanna go in?” terra asks, breaking logan out of his thoughts.

“huh?”

“the water.” she laughs, hiccuping a bit. “do you want to swim?”

logan furrows his brows in disbelief. was she serious?

“no.”

“come on, logan,” she pleas, turning to face him directly. she inches toward him, reaching out for his hands. logan gulps. “when was the last time you went out and did something, i don’t know… spontaneous?”

logan rolls his eyes silently. she was on fire with the old jokes tonight.

“we’ll go in our underwear, so we have something dry to come back to.” she pauses, trying to cling onto the idea that maybe, just maybe he’d go in with her.

no response.

as terra begins to lose all hope, logan starts to peel off the black t-shirt that had been covering his torso.

within seconds, the wavy haired brunette found herself giggling up a storm as she stripped from her clothes; logan tossing his aside and making his way to the water before she’d even gotten to her skirt.

“logan!” she calls out after him, rushing over as the water starts to reach his knees.

thinking back on it, logan would say his first mistake of the night was waiting for her to catch up. the sight of terra jogging into the ocean in nothing but a bra and panties was something, but the fact that the fabric was practically transparent made the feeling in his stomach spread down to his pants.

logan had to squeeze his eyes shut so he didn’t make a fool of himself.

“cold?” she snaps him out of his second daze of the night.

“yeah, cold.”

when they get far enough, terra starts to swim around, floating on her back and practicing all the strokes she can think of. logan watches, trying to seem like his drunken mind wasn’t a shit show.

eventually, the girl makes her way over to him. she smiles as she rests her arms around his neck, their foreheads inches from each other. she plays with the ends of his now soaked hair as she catches her breath, a smile plastered on her mouth.

logan tenses up, his heart starting to race.

she looks up at the moon that sits above them, thankful of its existence, admiring its beauty and the way it lit up the night sky like their own personal nightlight.

“the moon looks so beautiful.” she speaks, allowing herself to lean the side of her head against the man’s chest, still staring directly at it.

logan nods in agreement, trying to seem interested, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes from the scene below him. he took in the angle he had of her, her head buried in his chest as the light of the moon formed a twinkle in her eye.

“a waxing gibbous.” she adds, chuckling. a brief silence falls over the two of them. she glances up at logan, who’s still mesmerized by this “new” version of her, her eyes wide and clueless.

before she thinks to question his unusual behavior, terra watches as the man’s gaze lowers to her mouth. when their eyes reconnect, the silence continues to float between them.

without a second thought, terra leans in, pressing her lips to his.

logan’s taken aback at first, not expecting that bold of a move, but then leans into her touch; cupping a hand around the side of her face as he deepens the embrace.

for a moment everything feels right, their drunken bodies molding into each other under the stars.

until logan rips his face from hers, turning with a furrowed brow.

the silence between them is known all too well.

terra stares blankly at the man before her, caught off guard and blushing with embarrassment. her mind scrambles to think up any possible way she can fix whatever just happened. they were finally at a good point and she decided to mess it all up.

she felt so stupid.

“logan…” she starts, unsure of what she even wanted to say.

he carries himself out of the water, shaking his head with an angry, regretful look painted on his face.

what had she done? for a split second, terra just wants to scream. that is, until the sound of a voice began to echo inside her head.

“terra,” it sighs, unimpressed. terra can’t help the knowing shiver that runs down her spine. “you shouldn’t be out.”

the girl’s head snaps to the shoreline, where she can make out the figure of a red-haired girl and a man standing beside her.

jean… and scott.

logan can be seen snatching up his clothes from the sand silently as terra forces herself out of the water.

this was humiliating.

terra didn’t think jean could tell them off anymore than she already had on the walk back, but when the four finally made it up to the hotel room she was still able to scrounge up just a bit more.

“charles trusted you,” she goes on, pacing back and forth like a tired parent. “figuring you could handle yourselves as grown adults, and you deliberately went and disobeyed him.” terra lets the ball of clothes in her hands cover her partially exposed body. she felt like a teenager again. “not to mention all of this!” she gestures towards the countless amount of empty bottles that had been shared between both terra and logan.

logan sits himself down on the bed as jean scolds them, clearly not wanting to hear it. he knew he shouldn’t have let them leave. he felt like a fucking idiot for letting that ditzy girl drag him out.

“tomorrow night we’ll be attending you, making sure you’re taking care of what needs to be.” scott adds as the couple heads for the door. “clean yourselves up until then.”

“and logan,” jean starts, making eye contact with the wolverine for the first time the entire night. “stay focused.”

with that, the two shut the door behind them, leaving the pair anxious and frazzled.

“logan…” the same, soft tone of voice escapes terra’s lips. she still didn’t know what to say, but she knew she needed to apologize.

logan doesn’t answer. instead, he tosses his shirt at her chest with a scoff.

“put on some fucking clothes.”

[coldfanbou]

Trying For More

Jeongyeon tells how she feels before an interruption in this chapter, and Jihyo refuses to back down as we enter a new competitive stage.

Length 2.9K

Jeongyeon x Mreader x Jihyo

Previous Part

Next Part

You wake in the morning to a text from Jeongyeon. “I want to meet at your place so no one will bother us. Do you think that’s possible?” You agree, and soon you hear a knock at your door. You check the peephole and see Jeongyeon on the other side. She wore an oversized blue wool coat with a small hood over her head as she shivered. You let her inside, asking her if she’d like a coffee. She takes you up on your offer and sits by the kitchen island as you make it for her.

“When you sent that text, I didn’t expect you to be waiting at my door.” 

“I…just really needed to talk to you.” 

“What about?” You ask, your back turned to her. Jeongyeon fiddles with her fingers, slowly regaining feeling in them. She considers how to bring up the subject. You turn around when she doesn’t answer you. “Jeongyeon, what did you want to talk about?” 

Jeongyeon stares at the counter, “Our relationship.” She says softly. “I don’t- I mean,” Jeongyeon’s head is a jumbled mess as dozens of thoughts whiz past. She thought about her relationship with you, your relationship with Jihyo and Dahyun. Jeongyeon wanted to say thousands of things, but nothing would come out. She doesn’t notice when you sit beside her, only realizing when you place the cup of coffee in her hands.

“Take your time, Jeongyeon. I have nothing planned for today.” She stares into your eyes and gives you a slight nod, her smile hiding itself.  She brings the coffee to her lips, taking a small sip before placing it on the counter. 

“It’s just that I know you’ve been seeing Jihyo and Dahyun.” She pauses for a moment, gathering herself. “I know it’s wrong, but I want to be the only one. I know this was just supposed to be sex, but…do you remember our first night together?”

“On vacation?”

“That night. I felt special. Yeah, Jihyo was there, but it was the way you treated me. I thought that I was unwanted, but you, you made love to me.” Jeongyeon stops again, sighing. “It’s silly, isn’t it? To you, it was probably just sex.” There’s a sad smile on her face. You consider your words wisely, but before you can say anything, Jeongyeon continues. “Still, I-I want you to love me. So I’m giving myself to you. Anything you want, I’ll do. I just want you to stay with me. So please-” Jeongyeon stops talking as you pat her back.

“Jeongyeon, please stop. You’re acting as if sex is everything to me. There are a lot of problems here. First, giving yourself to me isn’t going to change a thing.” Jeongyeon looks at you, fear in her eyes, the thought that you would leave her paralyzing her. “As much as you might think I’m just in this for the sex, I’m not. I’ll be honest, Jeongyeon. Yes, I have spent time with Jihyo and Dahyun. I even got dragged into a threesome with Momo and Mina last night.” Jeongyeon’s heart dropped as she heard that. “The thing is, I like spending time with you. More than just sex, I love working with you and being around you. You’re still a married woman, though. I want to get married at some point and have a few kids.” Your thoughts begin to wander for a moment.

“Are you saying you want to get married?” 

“What I’m saying is that our relationship can only be like this as long as you are. I’m not saying anything else. Things are complicated, Jeongyeon.” Jeongyeon lowers her head and nods.

“The offer still stands. I’m yours. You can do whatever you want with me. I know we can’t officially be together, but I still want to be with you.” Your phone starts to go off at that moment. It was Jihyo. Jeongyeon sees as much, and she tells you to answer it. 

“Good Morning! Are you home right now?”

“Yes?”

“Perfect.” Jihyo hangs up, and there’s a knock at your door. You don’t know how she got your address, but sure enough, standing outside was Jihyo.

“How do you know where I live?” You ask, standing in the doorway. 

“I asked Sana,” Jihyo replies with a smile. “She told me you lived here.” Jeongyeon comes up behind you, pressing her chest against your arm. You look over to see her bare chest. She must’ve taken off her clothes before showing herself to Jihyo. Jihyo looks surprised to see Jeongyeon standing there. “I see you already have a guest. Another wouldn’t hurt, right?” She says, pushing her way into your home. Jihyo takes a seat on your couch. You turn to Jeongyeon to see her naked body; her beautiful curves attract your attention. Jeongyeon smirks and presses her hand against your crotch. 

“Let me take care of you before we go to her,” Jeongyeon says as she kneels before you.  She pulls down your shorts and fishes your cock out, stroking it slowly. Before taking it into her mouth, she slaps her cheeks with it. This side of Jeongyeon turns you on. She was usually a little shyer when you had sex, but today, she was taking the lead. Jeongyeon moves her hand down your shaft as she plants her lips on the head. You stifle your moans as you feel her tongue swirl around the head. Jeongyeon’s soft hand cups your balls, gently squeezing them. She placed her other hand on your thigh, supporting herself as she began to bob her head. 

“Oh fuck, Jeongyeon.” Her tongue moves up and down the sides of your shaft, coating it in her saliva before she moves down your shaft.  She pulls away, choosing to slide her lips along your shaft and coat her cheeks in spit. Jeongyeon slides her hand down to her slit, moving her fingers along her folds as she pleasures you. 

Jihyo walks back toward the entrance, seeing that you were taking too long to follow her. She sees Jeongyeon fingering herself as she gives you a blowjob. Not one to be beaten, Jihyo reaches for the hem of her shirt and tosses it to the side. She wasn’t wearing any sort of bra, and as her shirt flew to the floor, you watched her heavy tits bounce. She kneeled beside Jeongyeon, taking the side that Jeongyeon was ignoring. Jihyo ran her lips along your shaft like Jeongyeon. You moaned their names, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. They glared at each other for a brief second before turning their gaze to you. “I’m going to cum,” you moan. Jeongyeon presses her tits together, dragging her nipples along your shaft. Seeing this, Jihyo does the same. You reach your peak quickly and cover their tits with your cum. The thick white liquid coats the tops of their breasts. Jeongyeon stares at the amount on her chest while Jihyo scoops some up and licks her finger clean as you watch. 

“It’s just as good as I remember it,” Jihyo says with a moan as she stands up. She unclips her skirt and lets it drop to the floor before stepping out of it. “I’m going to need a lot more, and I want it all to go right here.” Jihyo grabs your hand, running it along her slit. “I’m wet and ready for you.” She says with a smile on her face. Jeongyeon, not one to back down, grabs your other hand and does the same. Her slick coated her thick thighs, and Jeongyeon pushed your fingers inside where you could feel her walls clamp down around you. 

“I want to be together,” she says quietly as she leads you to the bedroom. You find yourself on your bed with Jihyo and Jeongyeon on either side of you, both women holding onto your cock. They stroked it together, neither wanting to give the other space to make a move. Figuring that they would be like this forever if you let them, you lean up and pull Jeongyeon down next to you. Jeongyeon lets go for a moment and opens her mouth to protest when you kiss her. It was soft and immediately stopped Jeongyeon. Your hand snaked around her body until it found her chest; you gave her breast a soft squeeze, drawing out a moan from Jeongyeon. Once you break the kiss, Jeongyeon asks, “Why did you do that?” She wondered why you chose to have Jihyo go first.

Once Jeongyeon had let go, Jihyo moved quickly, positioning herself above you and pressing the tip against her cunt. You moan as you feel her cunt consume you, her walls clamp down around your cock, tighter than the last time you were with her. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, just for you,” Jihyo says before leaning down to plant a kiss on your cheek. She leans back, letting you take in the sight of her body, from her toned stomach to her great tits and pretty face. Jihyo placed her hands on your thighs to support herself as she began to move, raising herself up and sliding down your shaft until you were buried inside her. You both moaned, loving the pleasure you got from the other. You turn your head to Jeongyeon, kissing her as you squeeze her breast again. She whimpered, the small bits of pleasure turning her on but leaving her wanting more. 

“Jeongyeon, can I have some of your milk?” You boldly ask. Jeongyeon felt her face turn bright red. She felt embarrassed being asked such a thing, especially in front of Jihyo. Still, she agreed, giving you a slight nod and pushing her chest out for you. She had to move up slightly; you took that chance to play with her ass. As you attached yourself to her sensitive nipple, you spanked Jeongyeon. Jeongyeon whined as she felt your tongue swirl around her hard bud. The slow, calculated moves made her a mess, especially when she felt your hand smack against her bottom. When you began to suck, Jeongyeon wrapped her arms around your head and moaned as you got your taste of her milk.  

Jihyo found the sight before her erotic; her body got hot as she bounced on your cock. She felt a pang of jealousy as she watched you nurse from Jeongyeon’s tit. She reached up with one hand and groped her bouncing tit. Her fingers flicked at her nipple, causing more moans to fill the room. She slowed down her riding, using the muscles she trained to strangle your cock. She could feel the head of your cock rubbing against her walls. She loved it, and sank lower, having every inch inside before she popped up. 

Jihyo’s pussy was bringing you close to another orgasm; knowing as much, you bucked your hips, surprising her. Jihyo groaned as she felt the sudden movement. As much as Jihyo had worked to make you cum quickly, she found herself on the edge too. She had played with her body too much. You tapped around Jihyo’s body until you found her waist, and with one hand, you dug your hand into her smooth skin. With your grip on her, you began to thrust into Jihyo. “Ah! Wait! I’m supposed to be in control!” Jiyho cried as she felt your cock reach into her deepest parts. “Shit, I’m cumming.” Jihyo moaned as her body twitched. You felt her walls tighten around your shaft as she came. You followed suit right after; you buried yourself inside Jihyo, shooting your cum into her cunt. Jihyo’s hand slips off your thigh, and she falls back onto the bed, your cock slipping out and spurting the last bit of cum onto her stomach. 

In the heat of the moment, you bite down on Jeongyeon’s tit, the pain and pleasure of it mix together, and she moans. You release your grip quickly and pull away, seeing the bite mark you've left. You go back in and kiss her breast. “Sorry about that, Jeongyeon. I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

“It’s okay. I’m yours, remember?” Jeongyeon rolls onto her back and spreads her legs for you. Her hand snakes its way down her body until it reaches her cunt; she slowly spreads her lips showing you just how wet she is. “I need you. Please.” You climb over Jeongyeon, the tip of your cock slapping against her slit as it twitches. Jeongyeon extends her arms out, waiting for you to make the first move. You grab your cock, pressing it against her entrance before pushing the first couple of inches inside. As you push more inside, you lower yourself, letting Jeongyeon wrap her arms around you. Her embrace is warm; you feel her chest rise as she takes deep breaths, her breasts rubbing against your chest.

You pull out slowly, letting the feeling linger before pushing back into Jeongyeon’s warm cunt. You kiss Jeongyeon to quiet yourselves as you begin to thrust. Jeongyeon keeps her arms wrapped around you, refusing to let you go as you thrust into her. Your hands caress her body, giving her thighs loving squeezes. “I love you,” Jeongyeon whispers in a hushed tone. You couldn’t make out what she said and continued to thrust. Jeongyeon moaned your name as she ran her fingers through your hair.  You kissed Jeongyeon’s neck; she would tilt her head back, giving you more space to work with.

After a couple of minutes, you felt a weight on your back. Jihyo was pressing her tits against you. “Are you two having fun?” Jihyo pushes you deeper into Jeongyeon with her weight. You both moan loudly; Jeongyeon can feel the tip of your cock kissing her womb. Her body shivers, and she nearly cums from the feeling. With Jihyo’s help, you’re able to hit that spot consistently. Jeongyeon begins to whine and hold your head against her chest as she cums. She squeezes your sides with her thighs, and you can feel her walls clamp down on your cock. You kiss her womb one more time as you cum. You paint Jeongyeon’s walls white as you fill her pussy with your baby batter. You remain buried inside Jeongyeon after your orgasm ends, her walls still tightly wrapped around you as you pull out. As soon as you are out, Jihyo’s hand finds your cock, stroking it. “I’m so glad we have all day to have fun. Aren’t you happy, Jeongyeon?” As you turn your eyes back to Jeongyeon, you see her fingering herself, your cum out of her. You take in the image of Jeongyeon; legs spread,  fingering herself with a blissful look in her eyes. 

“We should take a break.” You say, trying to give yourself some more time to recover. 

“I have a better idea,” Jihyo says as she nibbles on your ear. “How about we do this.” Jihyo gets in between you and Jeongyeon, crawling over her friend until she’s face to face with her. Jihyo steals a kiss from Jeongyeon as she presses her clit against the younger woman’s. “Don’t you want to go another few rounds before we rest?” Seeing their pussies pressed against each other gets you hard, and you decide to dive into a few more rounds with the duo.

By the end, both women’s lower halves were covered in cum and their nectar. You got out of bed and headed to the kitchen for a drink when Jihyo came soon after, cum running down her legs. She turned you around and stroked your cock as she pressed her tits against you. “So, how was it? Did you enjoy my little trick?”

“It felt really good, Jihyo.”

“It must’ve, look at how much cum I have in me.” She says while spreading her lips, causing more to come rushing out of her. Jihyo moves her hand up and down your shaft slowly. “You know, with all this cum I could get pregnant again,” She whispers into your ear. “You twitched. Does that excite you? The thought of getting this good little housewife pregnant.” You moan as Jihyo continues to stroke your cock. “Jeongyeon said her body was yours. I don’t want to lose out to her, so the same goes for me.” Jihyo stops stroking your cock and takes your hands, placing them first on her tits and working her way down. You soon reached her ass. “I have another secret I’ve been working on.” Jihyo drops her hands and turns around, bending over slightly and spreading her cheeks. “You can try this too. I bet Jeongyeon hasn’t let you get anywhere near it, huh?” 

Jeongyeon was around the corner at that time, overhearing the conversation. She thought about what she had to do and what she said to you. She said her body was yours, and she meant it. Jeongyeon made a mental note to look at anal after the day was over. For now, she was going to make her presence known. She came around the corner and went straight for you. “Hey, let's get back to bed. Or if you want to shower, I can clean your body.” Jeongyeon presses her tits against your arm and gets on her tippy toes. “I also have more milk if you want to drink some more.” You consider your options, knowing that more sex is inevitable. Seems like this would be your day. Part of you wishes it was a work day; you needed a small break from all the sex.

[starseungs]

of fishes and chocolate muffins. ksm.

kim seungmin x gn!reader — working the morning shift at a cafe on weekdays isn't really the best, entertainment wise. still, eavesdropping on your customers wasn't something you did on a daily basis. it just so happened that two of your regulars had something in store for you today.

GENRE/S — fluff, humor, a pinch of angst, cafe/coffee shop au, writer!seungmin (barely mentioned) • 1.2k words

WARNING/S — profanity for humor, seungmin is pretty down in the dumps for most of this, part 2 of this fic but a different y/n, mentions of unrequited love

( ✒️ ) happy birthday to @seungiepaws !! here's your request for a part 2 of universe lovie, i know i said i'll do a drabble as a gift but it ended up a little longer so you're getting a whole fic mwah <3 i hope you like it

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

The small bell perched on top of the cafe’s entrance door chimed softly at the arrival of a new customer. Your well-rehearsed greetings immediately followed, words racing out of your lips before you could even think twice. It really didn’t matter whether you meant them or not. As long as the guest felt welcomed, then that meant you were already doing your job well.

You doubt any of them ever even acknowledged your efforts, anyway. That was just how the world worked on a normal Monday morning—everyone running on autopilot until the seemingly brainless hoard of zombies got their lethal dose of caffeine or sugar and started acting like proper functioning members of society for the rest of the day. Then, the cycle repeats.

As an “all-rounder” cafe employee (as you liked to call yourself), this was just another day in the bigger scale of the year. Not too important, nor was it a particularly boring day. That simply wasn’t possible if you were working at a cafe, or really, just working in general.

“You’re always here, dude.” An exasperated voice groans from the window booth next to the serving counter. You recognized his face right away as one of your regulars who looked like a hamster. “At this point, you need to pay this place rent.”

The man he was talking to rolled his eyes with a scoff, even though his fingers never stopped typing on his laptop’s keyboard. “I’m a paying customer. Objectively, I’m already giving them money to stay here.”

You couldn’t help but silently snort at the guy’s comeback. He wasn’t entirely wrong, after all. This cafe’s prices already took into account the amenities they could use here. So technically speaking, as long as customers bought something from the cafe’s menu, they could stay for as long as they want until the establishment closes. That’s not usually the case, though. Most people still had places to be and other things to do other than have a staycation on some random cafe seat.

Note that you said “most” instead of “all”. Of course, there were always bound to be those who, for the lack of a better description—overstayed their welcome. 

And one of them is that chestnut-haired male who was currently getting berated by his friend.

“Seungmin, seriously!” The other guy, who you finally remembered being named Jisung from his previous orders, exclaimed in concern. “You can’t just stay here all day, every day. I know you’re trying to get over your roommate, but at least make use of your rent?” Jisung almost pleads.

You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, as the topic seemed awfully private, but what exactly could you do from the close proximity of the counter and their booth? It’s not like you were judging the two of them. There was no harm intended, and you were sure you’d still go about your day as usual with or without this newly obtained knowledge from strangers.

Seungmin sighed. “I don’t think you want me to be cooped up in my room writing either, so what do you really want to achieve?” His hands finally parted ways from his keyboard for the first time in about an hour. “Jisung, you know being alone in the apartment is only going to remind me of how my roommate is out there with their boyfriend being all happy and enjoying life while I’m over here writing sappy fictional love stories because I don’t have one of my own.”

“Oh, but you do.” Jisung huffs. “It’s just the unrequited kind.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“Just saying,” he comments. “I’m gonna let you sulk all you want as part of your healing process, but you really shouldn’t be sacrificing yourself just for the thought of them. You deserve better, Min.”

If you could only agree out loud, then you already would’ve. Unfortunately, that meant revealing the fact that you’ve been secretly listening in to the personal conversations of your customers, and you weren’t completely sure if that was even legal for you to do so. Still, what are they going to do? Charge you for having ears?

“I don’t know,” Seungmin mutters. “I’ll manage it eventually.” And to this, Jisung only frowns.

Now, you were just as frustrated as Jisung was. Seungmin is an attractive guy—you were one hundred percent certain that he could get anyone head-over-heels for him if he wanted. And yet, here he was, a monotone mess over unrequited love? Whoever that roommate is, they had severely failed to see the vision since if that was you, best believe you weren’t letting him go just like that. 

Seungmin had honestly caught your eye ever since the moment he started going to this cafe. To put things into perspective, you were practically all smiles for the rest of the day every time he came to order something in the mornings before his daily schedule. When he started staying for whole days, it was only a matter of time before you ended up shooting your shot, even if you barely knew anything about him. Heck, the most you even knew about him was that he liked the chocolate muffins the most here!

A plate of chocolate muffin was heavily plopped down on the two men’s table, startling them due to the sudden act. They exchanged confused glances before Jisung cleared his throat to speak. “Uh—we didn’t order that.”

“It’s on the house.” You pursed your lips.

“What?” Seungmin asks, dumbfounded. You knew he was going to ask for a reason until he saw the look on your face while staring at him. His expression quickly shifted to one of mortification. “Were—were you eavesdropping on us?”

You clicked your tongue. How were you finding his reaction to that so cute? “Look, I didn’t mean to,” you explain. “See that counter? Just how far do you think my station is to your booth for me not to hear a single thing?” Seungmin only grumbles—probably to hide his embarrassment.

“Alright, sure. Whatever,” he says. “I still don’t need that muffin.”

Your eye twitched involuntarily. All of a sudden, you were already leaning on their table with narrowed eyes pointed at the laptop-facing man. “Okay, listen here, you soggy rained-on puppy.” You could have sworn you heard Jisung choke. “This is gonna sound really shitty of me, but there are plenty more fish in the sea. The same goes for your experiences in life. Trust me, you’re not even close to losing those opportunities yet. Unless you’re trying to live like a saint, that is. So grow some balls after your little pity party.”

“That was,” Seungmin exhales shakily. “Vaguely threatening. But somehow I’m not as offended as I thought I would be, so—uh, thanks?” He taps lightly on the plastic cup of his drink, looking away awkwardly.

You lifted yourself off the table and crossed your arms. “My name is Y/N. I work here every morning on the weekdays.” 

“Right,” he hums, still not glancing your way and instead facing the baked good you dropped by their tabletop. “So, is this muffin really free?”

All you let yourself give him was a nonchalant shrug. “Yeah. Just call me whenever or something. Congratulations on hooking a new fish,” you said without shame before walking away back to your station.

If you only looked back for a moment, you would’ve seen Jisung gasping for air from laughter with an incredibly red faced Seungmin blanking out as he held a serious staring contest with his muffin.

You could only hope that cheered him up a bit.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung

[ghostwritermia]

Jegulus x reader request?

Where the reader is also a quidditch player and basically she is in hufflepuff/ravenclaw and their team wins, but one of the boys get mad preferably regulus and reader gets upset james comforts her. Basically angst to fluff

P.s u don't have to do it, I hv been writing a poly moonwater for a week and haven't completed yet. Ik writing is hectic

Lots of Love, babe

Hi Hi! Sorry this took so long. I was in a writing slump...

Anyhoo. Here it is, I hope you enjoy!

totally didn't feed my overdramatic personality into this...

No warnings I can think of? Overthinking? Getting lost in your thoughts? Tears?

Poly!Jegulus x ravenclaw!reader

You were absolutely elated when you found out you had been assigned the captain position.

Sure, you were on a team that normally didn't win, but you were fine with that. You enjoyed the sport, the crowd, the family your team became, the community and environment.

It was the last game of the season and your team had finally won against Slytherin. Earlier in the season you had led your team to victory against Gryffindor. So, with one boyfriend left to beat, you had finally done it today, but apparently it had come with a price to pay.

As you were being crowded and tackled by your team you peeked over your best friend's shoulder, seeing Regulus storming off. And with that, your mood instantly dropped. 

You slipped an easy smile back onto your face as you hugged the rest of your team before slipping off into the changing tent and then back to your common room. 

You understand that Reg wanted to win his last game of the season, you did. But, it was your last game too, and only the second game you had been able to win that season. Shouldn't he be proud of you too?

When you finally made it back to your dorm, you quickly slipped into one of James's shirts (which were huge on you), and a pair of sleep shorts, before curling on in an armchair, pulling your knees to your chest and a blue fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

You didn't know how long you sat there. You also didn't know when James had slipped into the room, not even realizing he was there until he gently wiped tears away from under your eyes with the pads of his thumbs.

You startled, eyes lifting to meet his, to see sorrow swimming in his gaze. “You just gotta give him time, darling. You know how he gets about these things, he’ll come around.” James swiftly picks you up and takes your place in the armchair before resting you back into his lap.

You sighed, curling into his side, resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. “I know, it’s just hard sometimes.” You sniffle into his shirt, and he tugs you tighter against him.

“He will come around darling, I promise.” He says, leaving a gentle kiss to the top of your hair.

You lose track of time as you get comfortable, cuddling into James (stealing all of his warmth), yet he doesn’t complain. You smile into his shoulder as he starts running his fingers through your hair. You playfully bite his shoulder; he tugs on a strand of your hair in reprimand.

You had started to doze off when the door creaked open and James spotted Regulus’s head peek in. He gently tapped your shoulder and when he had gotten your attention, pointed to Regulus.

Your gaze met the stormy gray of Regulus’s before you looked away, finding a loose thread of your blanket far more interesting.

“Mon Amour, I’m so so sorry.” Regulus rushes over to you, crouching down in front of you. “My mind blanked, and I didn’t think before I walked away, and I’m so sorry.” He grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before running his thumb along the back of it.

You frown, your eyebrows scrunching and slide out of James’s lap and onto the floor next to Reg. “It’s okay, my love. I understand what it’s like to have loads of pressure on your shoulders, I do too. It can overwhelm you at any moment; sometimes it can even come when we don’t want it too and take control of our actions.” You say wisely. “You had a moment, it happens to the best of us. You may be a wizard, but you are still a human. Bound to make mistakes for the rest of your life,” You remind dramatically, talking with your hands. Regulus laughs, his eyes lighting up again and grabs your hands, holding them stationary.

“I’m glad that you forgive me, mon amour, but you are over dramatic.” Your boyfriend dressed in green states.

You scoff as James slides down from the chair to sit with the two of you on the floor. “I love this make-up session you two are having, but you both are full of crap.” He tugs you both into his sides, one arm wrapped around each of you.

Regulus turns his head, biting James’s hand as you dramatically raise your hand before swatting him on the back of his head.

James quickly pulls his hand away from Regulus, retracting his hold from the two of you and holds the back of his head. “Hey!” You both turn your head and blink at him feigning innocence. “This is not attack James day.” 

He smiles, teeth flashing. You dramatically cover your eyes, faking passing out; falling back from your sitting position and onto your back. “Ah, too bright. Can’t see. James you’re blinding me, can’t you see? Because I sure can’t.”

“Regulus was right. You are so over dramatic.” James rolls his eyes before leaning towards you and pulling your hands away from your eyes and pulling you into him.

“I. Am. Not.” You pout, crossing your arms and leaning out of James’s embrace.

Regulus leans towards you smiling and kisses your forehead. “Yes you are.” He whispers, tackling you to the ground, tickling your sides. “You are dramatic, and I love you for it.” You grin and Regulus gives you a skeptical glance as you turn and smile at James.

Before Reg could blink he was pinned down to the ground; roles reversed. James had his arms pinned to the ground as you straddled his hip, returning the attack of tickles that he had been serving you.

“You lose, Reggie.” You state in a sing-song voice, giggling.

[yonseibananamilk]

“𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒆."

synopsis 𓂃𓈒𓍼ོ living with fyodor was the same as living without him. however, the night of his return reminds you, embarrassingly so, just how close the two of you are. literally. (~4k wc)

a/n 𓇢𓆸 i think i may or may not be starting to hate my writing BUT i really stretched beyond what im used to in certain parts of this and i am quite proud of myself for that ^^

content 𓍼ོ𓂃𓈒 canon compliant, suggestive themes(especially around the end), fyodor is very cold temperature-wise, soft!fyodor(hes soft in his own way), references to my work song fic ! + connected directly to it will come back as it is a part 2 ^^

ᡣ𐭩 special special જ⁀➴ this fic is in collaboration with @musamora ‘s new talk!fic ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و please try to check hers out too if you can — shes a brilliant writer and a lovely person overall <3

Books upon books knitted themselves compact inside the towering shelves that pressed into the walls of what you assumed was Fyodor’s home. He had never called it his home, in fact, you explicitly remember when he did bring you here —

“Welcome to this humble abode. Feel free to touch and grab whatever you desire. Everything here belongs to you, дорогая.”

— Ever since that blind date (gone wrong(but then right in the end)), the Russian had let you stay for as long as you liked. One night led to two, which led into you bringing over a few things for just a few more nights.

Which led to you staying with Fyodor for nearly a month now.

You shook your head at the thought. If anything, he was the visitor. The man was hardly ever home, therefore you weren’t even living together. And you were, like anyone else with experience in a leaky apartment, eager to accept a place as generous as this.

The house held two stories; the first floor with the living room, foyer, and utilities, and the second floor with the bathroom and bedroom. Not to mention there was even an accessible attic-study.

In the beginning, he had stayed the night with you on the couch while you remained upstairs. But it had been weeks since then. Your Russian companion, much to your dismayed crocodile tears, was now predominantly busy with his ‘mission’. You couldn’t argue with that.

Though, on one of the times when Fyodor did stay longer than just a few hours…

“Please? I don’t mind, I swear! Besides, we’re both adults, not some teenagers that’ll go off at the first brush of skin. You don’t have to sleep on the couch..!”

You didn’t want to admit that you had actually stained the sofa downstairs on the first day of being here — even if Fyodor knew about it already, with all his observance — and it also felt… wrong to have him sleep on the couch. Cold. In the dark. And very, very, very lonely.

With a desperate and dramatic gesture of your arms, you tried to make the bed as dreamy as possible to his cherry wine eyes. “See? So comfy!”

To prove your point even further, you jumped on yourself with a muffled noise in the comforter.

“How amusing.”

Your point was most certainly not taken.

Therefore, you began to deflate into the sheets. Even more muffled now, and perhaps even softer than before, you mumbled out — “Is ‘modesty’ really the only reason why you won’t share anything with me?”

Everything in the room stilled. As if gauging the weight behind your words. Then, faintly, a gust of a sigh fell into the golden air of your nearby nightlamp. The candle flame was tickled into a dance thanks to the Russian, twisting and spinning hypnotically.

So hypnotically that you failed to catch the shift in the bed beside your head.

Not until a chilled hand fell atop your head. Bony fingers of ice itself urged your face up and away from the fire. Your attention was rewarded with a smooth, humming smile.

“There is more, дорогая.” He admitted. “But those reasons have nothing to do with you. After all, you are the sole reason why I would like to sleep here.”

Briefly, so much so where you barely even caught it this time — a thumb brushed over your lips. Cherry wine eyes batted down at you, reflecting the flame behind your burning face. Like the sun was the center of his very being.

“Then why don’t you?”

As his thumb curled into the corner of your lips, the rest of his hand glided over your skin. Two fingers read the curves of your jawline. Its adjacent pair followed down to the side of your neck.

He could grab your entire head with ease.

Fluttering ties in your stomach unraveled and twisted again in an endless heap of knots. Why wasn’t he saying anything? What was he thinking of? Why is he getting closer?

A chilled breath brought respite to your burning cheeks. But only for a moment.

Why is he moving away?

“Be wary of the fatigue that will eat you, if you do not sleep soon, дорогая.”

Pale feet revisited the cold, yet still warmer than him, floors. Wood welcomed him with a tired creak, following the man’s every step until he reached the doorway. By then, you had turned off your back to finally face him yourself.

“But I’m not tired.” Horribly, a yawn tore through your last syllable. The heaviness of your eyelids was never apparent until now.

Another amused hum brought you back to the Russian before you, hand on the knob as he smirked down at you. Slowly, the sharp edges of his little grin faded into something softer, fuzzier.

A smile, he had gifted you.

“If you are not tired…” Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating every little thing for his next suggestion. As if crying out — “What? Yes? What is it?”

“Then remember this: there is danger in giving into one’s desires, дорогая.” Icy red eyes rove over your laden figure with an unreadable spark. He always looked at you so curiously.

“I would be wise to not fall victim to such dangers. As would you.”

The closing door halted itself instantly when you let out the smallest of huffs.

“My offer still stands…” With a dragging breath of protest, you fell underneath the blankets.

Black swirls encapsulated your mind as you managed to spin his words effortlessly; “Remember this: there is reward for passing through danger.”

…

Unknowingly shooting through the Russian’s morale — you fell asleep with the same singular weight of your own on the bed. However, the door was still ajar in the morning upon your awakening.

But that moment was weeks ago. The memory of it proven by the clear frown on your lips — twitching up and down every now and then based on whatever the book you read said.

You wouldn’t spend your time thinking about someone who wouldn’t even give you so much as a clear answer to ‘How was your day?’

A creak of wood whipped your head around in urgence. Only for nothing to be there.

Nothing but a pang of disappoint. All at the absence of a certain Russian.

Well. Maybe you would spend a bit of your time.

With a ruffled sigh you fell back against the chair, pages still in hand as the grandfather clock behind you whisked the day away. These moments of solitude had become a daily part of your life — ever since popping out of Fyodor’s floorboards like a daisy in the snow.

But they might as well have been your floorboards too.

The creak of wood glided past your ears. Followed by the light shuffle of a coat being draped over the rack nearby. Then the ghosts of footsteps slowly but surely making their way toward the living room.

“Hm?”

Much to his amusement, there you sat. Old book in hand atop the gentle rise and fall of your chest. In a peaceful slumber too.

“How adorable.” The R rolled after his deep chuckle, growing slightly in volume as he drew closer to your laden frame. “Falling asleep to folktales, are we? Hm, дорогая?”

Frostbite ghosted over your cheek. A chill fell over your fingertips — the lingering absence of your now-taken book. Burgundy eyes flitted over the title with a deep hum.

Surprisingly enough, you had managed to find one of the few English books that hid in his shelves. The vast majority were Russian(as he wasn’t the best with learning new languages).

“Orpheus and Eurydice?” His tongue read. “Now what on Earth compelled you to read such a tale..?”

Firewood slid off one another as it ate away at itself in incessant hunger. A desire for something warmer than what it already had. A rod poked it stable in no time.

“Perhaps my дорогая is more romantic than she lets on. It makes me wonder…”

The shadows around him chuckled in tandem before, again, rippling as the fireplace was muted once more.

‘What a foolish thought.’ His brain reprimanded.

Yet his heart leapt not once, but twice — as you began to slowly stir awake. With orange light painted across the dips of your babbling lips in a silent dance with dark.

“Uah… who’s there..?”

Raven locks fell to the side as he tilted towards you slowly. Akin to an animal watching something unusual. Unexplainable. Unimaginable. A thick silence filled the air as Fyodor lagged to translate your words — no thanks to the strange foreign tingling south of his head — all by the sight of you.

‘How vulnerable.’ He mused. ‘How adorable.’

Despite knowing full well what was coming out his lips — despite knowing just what it could risk for him —

“Федя is here.”

He had willingly revived something. Something that had lied dormant for dozens of hundreds of years. All for you. You and your daftly half-conscious state. He hadn’t been called such a simple name since childhood.

And since his family was alive.

Despite his already-dissipating regret, icy tips glided reverently over the crown of your head. The locks of it threaded like yarn. Each part sifted through like flour. The back of it all was cupped tightly — encouraging your limp head to face him.

“Fe… diya…?”

Oh how adorable you were. So sleepy you couldn’t even pronounce a simple nickname. A diminutive. An endearment.

Nor could you realize how special you were right now. Though, that was the norm at this point.

“Yes. Can you indulge Fedya for a moment, дорогая?” The Russian cooed with a smile both condescendingly familiar, and unrecognizably tender.

Your whined nod was enough to coax him closer. Arms atop the sides of the chair. Frosted breath wafting just shy of your pulse.

“Can you tell Fedya what you were thinking of? Hm?”

Lithe fingers haunted the cover of your little folktale with echoed taps. His cherry wine gaze hooked onto the half-lidded glaze in your eyes.

“Tell him what you were thinking of when reading such a story?”

As slurred syllables pooled from your tongue, Fyodor locked himself onto every quiver, bite, and sound. Each was greedily soaked into the prodigy’s mind — held in higher regard than any mazed tactic.

Although just as half-lidded as yours, his eyes were far more awake than they had been during his accursed mission earlier.

After all, if Fyodor knew such a sweet sight waited for him here — he would’ve destroyed everything in his path to get back as soon as possible.

Frosted breath ghosted over the angle of your jaw, waiting patiently for something more.

“I… I thought that Eurydice was very lucky to have been loved so dearly... Regardless of what happened at the end.”

Black brows rose at you. “Lucky?”

“Yes. I’m a bit envious — being loved so dearly is…” A shake of the head pauses your sleepy train of thought. With a deep breath, your head reclined further into the plush of your seat before correcting yourself.

“Being loved is a very lucky thing indeed.”

Well weren’t you the lucky one?

The gentle squeaks of the couch were thankfully muffled by your weight, settling further and further into its cotton fabric. Your warmth soaked into it well. Though, much of that warmth was the fire’s — which only seemed to be growing.

Just along the edges of your peripheral, a certain smiling Russian was also present — leaned over your shoulder closely. Close enough for the scent of black tea to flood your nostrils yet again.

“Could you imagine it?”

A chill ran over the hairs on the nape of your neck. Fyodor’s breath was cold. His lips too.

“Imagine being loved…?” Your voice was far softer than expected. “I… suppose it would be nice. Very nice, in fact. I’d like to be cared about…”

Shifting your eyes, the golden text of the book was now being circled by Fyodor’s idle fingers. Lithe enough to perfectly recreate the intricate cursive. And cold enough to make you shudder at the mere sight.

Nonetheless — the image of such hands snug around you was as warm as the shared fireplace.

“Wouldn’t everyone?” He cooed. Slender fingertips rhythmically tapped atop the book cover.

“Being loved…” Cherry wine eyes reflected the orange fire beside you. “Or wanted…”

You swallowed a lump in your throat that certainly wasn’t there before.

“Is a very human desire.”

Another swallow. Glued to the fiddling hands in your lap, your heart leaped with you upon asking;

“Do you desire it as well?”

Briefly did his eyes widen.

It was borderline impossible to catch Fyodor off-guard. But, as luck would have it, you succeeded at it like any other mundane task. You always did.

It’d be terrifying if not so attractive.

“I suppose…” Once unoccupied fingers found their way atop your shoulder. Chills ran through your arm. As well as an unwelcome spark through your entire body. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

A flicker of your shared fireplace caught your eye. Avoiding the piercing gaze of Fyodor Dostoevsky as he, much to your confusion, stared into your very essence. It was as if he was analyzing every curve and groove before completely committing it to memory.

That sly, condescending chuckle reeled you home to him. All semblance of earlier surprise had drained from his eyes. “What a curious question, дорогая. Were you picturing it in your mind?”

Blackberry strands fell against the white fabric of his shirt, flowing in tandem with the inching of his face.

“Thinking… pondering… wondering…”

Orange light danced within the seeds of his eyes.

“Imagining what it’d be like to be loved by me?”

You didn’t know whether to fuse with the couch or disappear completely.

Whatever happened to the fire danced over your already-burning cheeks — radiating against the chill of Fyodor’s face as he bordered closer and closer.

“Can you imagine it?”

Close enough to count each eyelash.

Close enough to taste the scent of black tea and iron on your tongue.

Close enough to feel the subtle heat of his cheeks.

“Imagine being loved by me?”

Your lower lip began to tremble. Sweat sprinkled from your shaky palms. That same spark shocked you from head to toe yet again.

Everything felt heavy. Heavy and warm.

And your nose itched. Itched and twitched. You couldn’t help but sniff — which only amplified the hot water in your eyes — already glittering in your lashes. The unsaid border between the two of you dwindled like a candle in the wind.

All you knew was that you were sweaty, shaky, and far too warm to be considered normal.

A snort caught itself in his throat. While perfectly timed with just how stiff you were getting, your little sniffle was not out of embarrassment. Simply an incoming sneeze that he would gladly bless you for in: 3, 2—

“Achoo!”

…

He did not want to finish that countdown.

“Woah…! I got my boogers on your face! Hah!”

“That you did.” The Russian begrudgingly muttered, closed eyes subtly twitching under the weight of your giggles and dabbing sleeve. “Bless you.”

Despite all your unceremonious, uncouth, undisciplined whatnots — the sheepish smile you flashed to him was hardly ignored. “Thank you… Did it get in your eye?”

“Fortunately not.”

“Aww. Better luck next time then.”

The caught snort from before clawed its way out of Fyodor and into a throaty, hearty, genuine laugh.

No cocky chuckles. No sadistic grins. No sly hums.

Just a normal laugh. With golden fire reflecting off the sides of his face like framing sunrays. And a usually imperceptible ombre of deep magenta in his otherwise black hair — thanks to the generous amount of light the fireplace provided a few feet away.

Sure, it was akin to the cawing of crows at the crack of dawn — Fyodor most certainly hadn’t laughed like that in what seemed like centuries. But it was touching nonetheless.

Very much so.

“It’s rude to stare, дорогая.”

It was even harder to look away when he was smiling so warmly.

“I bet Orpheus wouldn’t think Eurydice was rude — even when her boogers got in his eye.”

An unfamiliar emptiness frosted over your shoulder when the Russian leaned away. “Perhaps, дорогая. Perhaps.”

You couldn’t recall a time when he was ever so warm.

“There are no more wool blankets.” The Russian patted through the wooden cabinets with a small hum. “Дорогая, you wouldn’t happen to know where they are, would you?”

Looking over his shoulder, a cherry wine gaze poured over your freshly showered & dressed body. You learned to always stay snug for the cold that managed to occasionally sneak its nightly way past the fireplace — crackling happily a hallway down.

You hummed back, offering the man a smile warm enough to rival it. “I do.”

“And whatever happened to them?” Knowing lips cooed. The answer fell sweeter when it was from your tongue than his mind.

“I put them in the attic because they scratched at my face,” Rubbing at your arms, a wave of apology washed over you. Maybe Fyodor preferred blankets that way? Scratchy and itchy. He was a strange man after all.

Even more strange now that he was finally content with sharing a bed. You don’t think you’d ever seen a man smile for so long. However eerie though, at the end of the night, it was… endearing.

Tonight, he had changed out of the usual wear for war(or whatever he did outside of the house) — a fluffy white robe wrapped snug around Fyodor. Tied together by the loose cotton belt.

“And so you have been sleeping in a single blanket? Instead of the multiple wool ones I had given you?” The urge to hang your head was woefully strong. You opted to shuffle your feet instead.

“Yes, Fyodor. I… I can give you the blanket for the night if that’s what you want?”

Briefly, his roving eyes met yours. With a small lilt of his voice, which was another strange way of expressing amusement for him, the Russian cooed; “And leave a woman to fend for herself against the cold?”

Another spark of warmth crackled under your skin. The sensation swam through your bones in a melting frenzy that burned your face once it reached it.

“T-then we can share…?”

Cherry eyes crinkled in delight.

“Wonderful idea, дорогая.”

As your knees slowly crawled up to meet your chest, the sway of his hair encapsulated you in a garden of imagination — with cherry wine eyes to drink and straight locks that rivaled shades of the ripest blackberries. Such sweet attributes for such a cold man.

Literally. He was colder than the air itself when sitting on your bed. The man could’ve drunken up all the warmth in the room, and still ask for more.

“You’re freezing!” You whined out, curling into a shuddering ball. “Maybe you should take that blanket, you might as well take the ones in the attic too.”

A frown quipped its brows at you. Yet, despite all his shown annoyance, there lacked a general sense of danger that once lived within.

Every glare was now punctuated with a cooing riddle of warning but quickly followed by a soft smile — imperceivable to all he knew. Excusing you.

“And I assume that means you are warmer? Hm?”

“Well, duh. I’ve been soaking in the fireplace all day waiting for you.”

“Oh?”

Under the gentle fire of your candlelit bedside, a meek coral bloomed across the slim cheeks of his face. His ears were red too — how long had he been that way?

“So, you were waiting for me?”

“Yes.” An exasperated breath left you feeling flustered and confused.

“Diligently?”

“And I was very lonely the whole time.”

A sense of deja vu sprung over you like a freshly pouring fountain.

Candlelight brewed against his face. Cherry wine eyes raked over your every inch. Pale skin, now painted with pink, smoothly approached closer and closer and closer —

Until the two of you are face to face once again. Illuminated only by generous candlelight and warmed by a singular blanket, except for Fyodor leeching off your heat.

“Дорогая, if I didn’t know better, I’d assume you thought we were married. With you waiting so, what was the word...?"

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Ah yes. Diligently for my arrival.”

Freezing fingertips grazed along the bridge of your jaw. Dancing over the skin like whistling air, then halting at the chin. Two fingers held it gently, softly, reverently even.

“Though, my words are not necessarily a complaint.”

Candlelight pooled over the side of his face, glistening in the corners of Fyodor’s eyes like water lanterns at nighttime. You could only hope he was staring at you because you looked just as beautiful.

Gulping, a strained noise tumbled from your lips —

“Oh? Whining now?” A chilling thumb ran over the shine of your bottom lip. He was closing in.

“I did not whine.” Your voice cracked. “I just—”

Words left you. Tumbling freely from your throat in an entanglement of broken syllables and whines.

And with each mishap, his grin only grew. Evident by the crinkled underside of his trailing gaze.

At long last, a semblance of defense clicked into mind — spilling out with almost-paralyzing heat inside. And yes. Your voice cracked a second time.

“You caught me off-guard!”

“I did?” He crooned. The weight of your blanket was peeled off — making way for Fyodor to finally join you. Which you would’ve been over the moon about — if your thoughts weren’t so scrambled. You only hoped his were, too.

Every restrained laugh. Every languid movement. Everything he did — you prayed that he felt even a semblance of the bashfulness you did. Maybe then, it wouldn’t feel so embarrassing.

“Oh, дорогая.” Frostbitten lips sighed. “You truly are adorable.”

Time melted into an infinity of simply you and Fyodor. With your brain dry of anything else to say, and his hopefully the same. With one last strained noise, you turned away to bury yourself into the cotton of your now-shared bed.

A candlelit silence bloomed over.

As the sheets’ soft heaviness cradled back over you, Fyodor included now, the man slid himself behind your burning face — peacefully watching the uncharacteristic heat fizz out of your little head.

Blackberry locks stretched over the expanse of the pillow like grape vines across a fence.

Amid all your muffled sounds, the cotton had begun to seep a sense of sleep into your skin, added on by Fyodor’s granted silence. With a sniffle, you reluctantly let go of his blundering words — slowly but surely relaxing into the candlelight bed. But not without an evident pout.

A haze of warmth enwrapped you. Cozy.

The edges of consciousness were held by none other than a familiar pair of cold hands. Which slithered their way around your waist — pulled you snugly against their owner’s body — allowing him to soak in the feast of your body heat.

Oddly enough, as the Russian slid himself closer, not an inch of his frigid temperature leaked into yours. Quite the opposite.

Your slumbering body thawed away at his cold one.

Save for one place that did not need any more warming. Like his cheeks, for example. Or elsewhere.

taglist ᯓᡣ𐭩 @aureatchi @soleelia + people that also wanted to be added but please know time is my greatest enemy

translations! (these are rough translations, and if there are any inaccuracies please let me know)

дорогая - ‘darling’ i just cant envision fedya saying ‘baby’. darling is the only accurate one.

thank you so much to @musamora for betareading again !!! she is quite literally the sweetest writer i know and this fic couldnt be possible without her ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡

also thanks to @/saradika-graphics for all the wonderful dividers! the images for the banner were either found on pinterest or edited by yours truly <3 thank you for reading !

© yonseibananamilk 2024 - please refrain from copying, plagiarizing and/or reposting my works on other platforms. reblogs, notes, and comments are very appreciated!

[silverzoomies]

Oooh, some good ol' Peter Maximoff with number 1? That'd be either godly or comedic gold, I feel...

Peter Maximoff/Reader drabble: ⚡"So, how do you want me to fuck you?"⚡ warnings: light hints of cunnilingus and smut. peter being peter. sorry !!

Peter is…blunt. Majorly blunt. Quick to the point, but somehow always wasting time.

You were both going at it like insatiable animals. Peter’s skilled lips and buzzing tongue brought you to nirvana. Gifting you not one, not two, but three wickedly intense orgasms.

In post-nut bliss, you’re buck ass naked on his basement sofa. Your limbs droop loosely. Sweaty in summertime heat. Cool air wafts within the basement, but it does nothing to nullify steamy warmth on your skin.

Wordlessly, he comes up to kiss you. Conquering hungry smooches with his swollen lips, Peter brings the taste of your own arousal on his tongue. His torturous fingers toy with your sore pussy a little more. Peter plunges his digits in your soaking wet slit. He explores your plush channel, testing the tight space for a future visit.

“Tell me how you want it, babe.” He breathes into your ear, nuzzling your cheek, moving to murmur into your lips, “You want it fast? Or...nah? You want me to hold back? Take it slow? Cuz, fuck. You feel so good, I dunno if I can…”

You answer with an unintelligible squeal that makes him chuckle. As you moan and writhe under Peter, you help him peel off everything he wears. Peter kicks off his worn sneakers.

“Don’t need these where I’m goin’.” He quips humorously, moving in for another messy kiss.

His Buffalo Springfield shirt comes next. And just as you run your trembling hands down the athletic shape of his torso, Peter parts from your urgent kisses. His muscles are hard as steel under your fingertips. But you don’t get a moment to appreciate them before they’re gone. Peter sits up all the way, his black jeans and belt undone. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stalls for a beat.

“Uhm...what's up? Are you o-” You start to ask.

Peter interrupts, “I'm great. But can you hold on just a sec? Thanks.”

The silver haired speedster disappears in a flash, leaving your poor pussy abandoned and aching. Your brows curl inward as you sit up on the sofa. You relax your tense shoulders. Completely nude, so spent, and longing for more all at the same time; you await his return. Sex-ridden pulsations of scorching heat stir in your core. It’s such a strong sensation, it physically pains you.

Your body needs to feel the pressure and warmth of his hands again. Peter must’ve imbued you with his own heightened impatience. Because you’ve never wanted dick this badly in all your life. He takes such a long time getting back. You almost tear up at the agonizing loss of his presence.

He reappears in a blurry, silver gust of wind. Standing idly in the basement - barefoot, shirtless, with his pants undone and his belt hanging loose - Peter shovels pink frosted sprinkled donuts in his mouth. One by one. It’s a nauseating sight, watching him shamelessly devour the sugary delights.

Your lustful frustration boils to a breaking point, and you scoff. Any other time, you might've laughed 'til you passed out.

“You cannot be serious right now.”

“Whuhhuhhh?” Peter mumbles with his mouth stuffed full. Pushing the last donut past his stained, pinkish lips, he swallows in less than a second. He speaks in a clearer, albeit wise-ass tone, “Sorry not sorry. What? You never got, like, a wild craving outta nowhere?”

He moves to the sofa faster than your brain can process. Digging a single knee into the cushions, Peter guzzles an entire soda in one swig. You don’t remember him grabbing one. And while you don't care to think about it, it's gone in an instant.

"C'mere, you." He sluggishly smirks.

Another half-second, and he smashes his sickly sweet lips into yours. Sporting a proud hard-on in his open jeans, Peter ruts his clothed bulge into your bare heat. Even in spite of how maddening his tendencies are, he makes you melt under him so easily.

The two of you find your rhythm again. Reviving the erotic mood simmering between you both, you speak your own hushed, coquettish words.

"Peter, please? Give it to me fast? So fast. I want you to keep going, and never stop. Can you do that, baby?" You breathe a bashful whisper into his lips.

There's another pause. Peter halts for a tormentous moment. He narrows his eyes in pensive thought, shaking his head.

“Wait. So, how do you want me to fuck you? I totally spaced out.”

[scribblesofagoonerr]

home run | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

pairings: leah williamson x reader!monkey x reader!buddy | arsenal wfc x reader!monkey x reader!buddy

summary: baseball game chaos and monkey's up to her usual tricks throughout

double the trouble masterlist

thank you @alotofpockets for the little bits of help along the way! 😊

“I don’t like this anymore,” You huff, crossing your arms in protest while you’re sat down at one of the tables with Leah, Buddy, Kim, Lia and Mariona, the later who arrived the previous day when you were up to no good with Kyra, or so you had been told.

Much to your disappointment, you weren’t allowed to sit with Kyra, more so because of the girls who were aware of how much mischief the pair of you could get into.

Hence the bulky cast that you now have.

“I don’t like it at all,” You continue to grumble, while looking down to the said cast that is encasing your foot and it’s the current source of your misery.

“It’s literally been one day,” Leah retorts while she playfully rolls her eyes, “And it’s going to be a lot longer, so stop sulking about it.”

You groan, fidgeting with the edge of the cast, “But it’s so uncomfortable!”

“Mummy, ‘elp me please!” Buddy whines, finding it difficult to cut her food up without any help.

“And you’ve only got yourself to blame for that one, now, haven’t you?” Leah, completely unfazed by your dramatics, continues to cut Buddy’s pancakes up into smaller bites, “There you go, bubba.” She coos softly, holding a forkful to the toddler to eat.

“Thank ‘ou!” Buddy smiles and takes a hold of the fork to shove it in her mouth, “Why are ‘ou so grumpy, Monkey?” She asks, confused.

“My cast is itchy,” You whine, your fingers twitching towards the cast again, “It feels so restricted!”

“Stop messing with it Monkey,” Kim's voice chimes in from across the table, “You’re only going to make it worse.” She tells you, firmly.

You huff once again, clearly not happy with your situation, “But it’s so annoying!”

“Again, you only have yourself to blame when you decided to sneak out and buy that skateboard,” The said skateboard that you’re no longer allowed near and it’s being held hostage in Kim’s room for the time being, “What did you think was going to happen?”

“I thought I was gonna be a pro at it,” You grumble, shifting in your seat, “Urgh, I don’t like it. I want it off!” You tell them, trying to fidget with the cast.

“That’s too bad, you have to leave it on,” Leah states firmly, “Eat your breakfast.”

“But Le,” You start, your voice dripping with protest.

“No, quit it,” Leah interrupts, shaking her head, “Stop messing with it, or we’ll be going back to the hospital.” She warns, swatting your hand away to stop you messing with it any further.

“But I don’t likeeeee it,” You whine in protest, your flair for dramatics in full swing.

“You will get used to it,” Lia chimes in, her tone gentle as she tries to reassure you, though she can see just how much the cast is getting under your skin, and let’s not even get started about the crutches.

“Maybe this will teach you not to do something like this again, no?” Mariona chips in, amused with your current antics.

“Probably not,” You don’t hesitate to reply, “Hey, you’re new! Maybe you can convince these lame-ass people to let me go skydiving now!” The idea pops into your head, and you can’t help but get excited about it.

“No, absolutely not!” Leah states firmly, pointing her index finger at you, “We’ve already talked about this when you tried to convince Keira. It’s not happening!”

“Why not? It’s a great idea!” You huff in protest, your disappointment evident once again, “I’m sure Luigi thinks so, right?” You turn to look at the new member of the team.

“Ah, I just arrived– I’m not getting involved in this,” Mariona says, holding her hands up in mock surrender, “Who is Luigi?” She asks, confused.

“Wise choice,” Lia chuckles, shaking her head at Mariona’s cautious approach.

“It’s your new nickname,” You explain, grinning, “You should be grateful– I only give nicknames to people I like. Leah is Malfoy, Kim is Tiny and Lia’s is… Wallaby!”

“Wallaby?” Lia repeats, bewildered, “I… I didn’t know that.”

You shrug your shoulders carelessly, “We thought of it when we were down under. It’s clever, right? Cos’ it’s so close to Wally, but then I could’ve also just called you Wall-E, but then people also might think you’re a robot.” You ramble nonsense to the Swiss woman, who looks at you in concern.

“Uh, well, that’s one word for it,” Lia murmurs, her tone amused, “Why do you want to go skydiving so badly?” She asks.

“It’ll just be fun, like, innit!” You say, shrugging your shoulders as the idea pops into your head to ask someone who might have a harder time saying no to you, “Maybe I can just ask Jordan. I know she’ll take me if I want to go!”

“Don’t you even think about it!” Leah interjects, pointing her finger at you again, “You’re not going skydiving, you’re literally sitting in a cast and on crutches because of the skateboard, so God knows what would happen if you went skydiving.”

“Fine,” You grumble at your idea being shot down once again, “How about–”

“No,” Leah cuts in, shaking her head and shutting the idea down before you even had a chance to tell her, “How about you just eat your breakfast now, please?”

“I can’t though,” You whine in response as you move to poke at the cast once again, “This cast is too itchy to handle– I don’t like it!”

“Stop whining Monkey,” The blonde responds, pursing her lips, “Eat.”  She repeats.

You can’t help but huff, clearly feeling sorry for yourself, “No sympathy. None whatsoever.”

“You’re not going to get any of it when you’re the one who puts yourself in this situation, Menace,” Leah is quick to fire back in response.

“Seriously?” You question, exhaling a loud sigh.

“I’m serious,” Leah nods in agreement, “Now when you’re done sulking, maybe you can eat breakfast, eh? You still need to get ready to go out later on,”

Your eyes lit up in excitement at the prospect to leave the hotel, “We’re going out? You mean I’m actually allowed to leave this hotel?” You question.

Lia snorts in amusement at your choice of words, “You make it sound like you’re being held prisoner. You’ve only been grounded.” She jokes.

“It’s practically the same thing, innit?” You remark, shrugging your shoulders.

“Wha– No, I can’t cope with you,” Leah threw her hands up in exasperation, “Eat your breakfast already!” She tells you, firmly.

You grumble but pick up your spoon to start eating your cereal, “Where we goin’?” You wonder, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Baseball match, remember?” Leah reminds you, “Honestly, did you bang your head when you fell or something?” She teases you about your god-awful memory.

“Nope, I just, uh… I got distracted when you were tellin’ me and switched off listening to you, like I always do,” You say cheekily before shoving a spoonful of cereal in your mouth.

“You cheeky little–” Leah scowls at you and playfully swats your arm, opening her mouth to speak but before she could retort any more colourful language, Buddy’s small voice interrupts the conversation.

 “Mummy, I need ‘elp with my juice!”  The little girl whines.

“Right on queue,” You grin in response, thankful that Buddy’s timing is impeccable.

Leah shakes her head in frustration, “Just hurry up and eat, Menace!” She tells her before she turns to help Buddy with her orange juice carton.

“How long until the coach is going to be here?” You ask, as just somewhat excited to be able to leave the hotel finally, there’s only so much you can do before you start to go stir-crazy.

Of course you’re under constant supervision, though you’re not sure if it’s more so to keep you out of trouble, or because you’re injured, but whatever it is, it’s annoying to you.

Leah had to take care of some things though so you’ve been lucky enough to have Lia to chaperone you, but at least Buddy’s tagged along as well.

You can’t deny the company of your favourite little buddy.

“Not much longer,” Lia replies to your question before she turns her attention to Buddy, “Are you excited to be going to watch this match, Buddy?”

“Excited, Auntie Wally!” Buddy’s bouncing on her feet to show her excitement.

“It’s going to be so fun to watch!” Lia tells her enthusiastically.

“Monkey!” You hear the familiarity of your name being called out as you hobble outside of the hotel and await the coach’s arrival.

You spot Kyra running towards you with the same excitement that is bubbling up inside of you.

It’s hard to be separated, but apparently it’s necessary though to stop you from further injuring yourself.

“Kyra!” You shout back in response, matching her energy as she reaches you and engulfs you in a warm, tight hug, “I’ve missed you!”

“I’ve missed you too– I’m so bored without you,” Kyra tells you in agreement as she pouts.

“It’s a good thing so you two can not get up to no good,” Lia chips in amusedly.

“Hey, I’m here too,” Buddy pipes up from where she’s stood beside you, her small hands tugging at the hem of Kyra’s hoodie, “Ou’ forgot about me!”

Kyra’s expression softens immediately as she turns to crouch down beside your favourite little buddy, “Aw, no, no. I could never forget about you, pipsqueak!”

Buddy’s face lights up as she raises her arms eagerly, “Up please!” She asks, sweetly.

Who can say no to that adorable little face?

“Of course, as you wish!” Kyra laughs, effortlessly lifting Buddy into her arms, “So, are you excited about this game, little ‘un?”

“Yeah, I’m excited. Chase the ball!” Buddy exclaims, her excitement infectious although you’re not quite sure if she really understands the whole concept of the game.

You can’t help but snort in amusement and shake your head, “I’m not sure that’s exactly how it works, but I suppose that a ball is technically involved.”

“Oh, you’re a fan of baseball?” Kyra teases you.

“Nope, I don’t ‘ave a clue about it,” You admit with a shrug of your shoulders, “Just be glad to gettin’ out the hotel at least.”

“Hey the bus is here!” A familiar thick Irish accent speaks up to get everyone’s attention that is standing outside, “Come on, hop along.” She teases, smirking at you as she walks past.

“I thought it was ‘cripple’?” Caitlin joins in with her girlfriends need to tease you.

“Fuck off,” You murmur, glaring at the two of them.

“Oi,” Leah scolds, unfortunately choosing the time to walk out and hear your kind words, “Will you watch your language!”

“Geesh, alright, Captain America, calm down,” You retort with a playful grin.

“I mean it!” Leah insists, her tone firm.

You can’t help but roll your eyes and hold your hands up with mock surrender, “Relax, don’t worry. I’m sure she didn’t even listen to what I just said.”

Buddy of course takes it at that moment to speak up from Kyra’s arms, “Who’s Captain ‘Merica?” She asks innocently.

You freeze for a moment as your eyes widen in realisation, “Shit,” You mutter under your breath, but it’s too late.

“Shit,” Buddy parrots innocently.

“Monkey!” Leah shouts in outrage, shaking her head, “Are you serious right now?”

You face palm and groan, “I… I didn’t think she would!” You try to defend yourself, though it’s not much use with the scowl the blonde is giving you to know that you’ve landed yourself in it.

“I literally don’t understand this game at all,” You grumble, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you sat watching this baseball game, your earlier excitement quickly decreased when the pain in your ankle became apparent once again, “What’s the point in it?”

“It’s not that hard to understand,” Leah says as she sits beside you with an amused expression, “You’re just too grumpy to care about it.” She jokes, ruffling your hair.

“Get off,” You growl, batting her hand away from touching your hair.

You are not in a good mood now, your ankle hurts, the weathers hot and sticky and you're growing bored fast.

What makes it even worse is that before the game Leah and Kim went to do a presentation on the pitch and Leah got to wear a cool hat. You wanted it but you couldn't even run on to the pitch to get it, which sucks.

“It is hard, I can’t make any sense of it all!” You continue to complain, huffing as you cross your arms and give Leah a disgruntled look, “And I’m hungry!”

“Do you want me to go and grab you something to eat?” Steph offers, leaning forward from her seat behind you.

“Yeah!” Your face lights up at the idea, “Can I have some sweets?”

“No!” Leah’s response is immediate and firm knowing exactly how you get with too much sugar, “Absolutely not!”

“Awh, shucks,”  You can’t help but pout dramatically, “Come on, I’m being forced to be here– Can’t I at least eat something good?”

“You were excited to be here at first. What’s changed?” Beth overhears the conversation from where she sits behind you with Rory on her lap, her focus on her colouring book that she has in front of her.

“I was excited, but then it wore off and now I’m bored again,” You tell the blonde, shrugging your shoulders, “Why can’t I have sweets?” You ask.

“You’ve already hyper enough, Monkey,” Lia says from where she sat behind you with Buddy, who’s decided to sit on her lap after getting fidgety sitting on Leah’s lap, “You don’t need any sugar.” She adds.

At least your favourite little buddy seems to be engrossed in the game, you can’t say much for yourself though.

You huff in disagreement and cross your arms, “Well that’s not fair, I’m not that bad!” You insist, trying to change their mind as you look towards Leah, “Pretty please?” You ask, giving your best puppy-dog eyes.

“Oh you should know by now that doesn’t work on me,” Leah says with a shake of her head, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to have any sweets.”

“I tell you what,” Steph chimes in as she leans forward in her seat, “Why don’t I get you some popcorn? Surely one sugary treat won’t hurt if it keeps her quiet, right?” She looks to Leah for confirmation.

“Popcorn!” Buddy perks up at the mention of it, “I wan’ it!”

Leah exhales a small sigh but gives in, “Okay, fine.”

“Yes!” You fist pump the air in triumph, a wide grin spreading across your face, “Thank you, Steffy!” You do a little happy dance in your seat, despite the pain in your ankle.

“I come with you?” Buddy asks Steph, eagerly.

“I don’t see why not, as long as it’s fine with your mummy,” Steph replies, glancing at Leah for agreement.

Leah nods in agreement with Buddy wanting to go with Steph, “Okay, but remember to hold Auntie Steph’s hand, bubba,” She tells her, the tone of her voice gentle but still firm to remind Buddy it’s important to not let go.

“You got it dude!” Buddy sticks her thumb up at the blonde in agreement with her.

Steph laughs in amusement, standing up and scooping the little girl up off Lia’s lap, “Come on then, little ‘un,” She takes a hold of her hand to start the walk up the steps, “You can help me carry it back.”

“Hey, I want popcorn as well!” Kyra chimes in from where she’s sitting.

“If you want it, then you can come and get it yourself,” Steph tells the girl, her tone full of amusement, “I’m not getting it for you.”

“But you’re getting Monkey’s though,” Kyra argues back with the older Australian, “That’s not fair.”

“Only because she can’t get up and down the steps on her own,” Steph responds, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Yeah, did you not see Leah having to carry her down the steps?” Beth chimes in as she can’t help but laugh, “It wasn’t just for the fun of it.”

“I’m bored, I don’t understand this game at all,” It’s less than half an hour later before you’re complaining again about being in the stadium, shifting around uncomfortably in your seat.

“Well that didn’t last long,” Lia jokes, amusedly.

“You’ve already told us that you’re bored, menace, but there’s nothing I can do about that right now,” Leah tells you, adjusting Buddy on her lap where your favourite little buddy is curled up against her, sleeping peacefully as if there wasn’t a game going on.

You wish you could just sleep as well.

“Can’t we just go?” You grumble, not wanting to be sitting in the stadium for much longer.

“We can when the game is over,” Leah replies patiently, “Just be patient until then, or at least try.”

“I don’t think patience is in Monkey’s vocabulary somehow,” Steph quips.

“Oh, don’t we know it,” Kim adds with a chuckle.

You scowl at them in disagreement, “Hey, that’s mean!”

“But true though,” Kim counters, smirking at you.

You’re not exactly sure what is happening but all of a sudden most of the stadium, except you of course and a few other people are jumping up and cheering in excitement, “What just happened?” You ask, confused.

“They got a home run,” Leah explains to you, trying to keep her voice low so as to not wake Buddy up, while you’re still a bit clueless about the rules of baseball and how the game works.

“Huh?” You look at the blonde with a blank facial expression, “Okay, great, that’s fantastic, they scored or whatever. Now can we go?”

“Where’s your excitement, Monkey?” Mariona questions from her seat, sitting behind you.

“Soz, Luigi. I must’ve left it back at the hotel,” You deadpan, huffing and sitting there with your arms crossed, “So, can we go now or what?”

“Someone is grumpy,” Lia teases you.

“Wouldn’t you be if you were stuck on these dumb crutches?” You grumble in complaint, gesturing to the items, “I can’t do nothin’ fun at all. It fuckin’ sucks!”

“Monkey,” Leah chides quietly to avoid waking Buddy up, “Language!” She hisses.

“English,” You smirk, knowing just how to wind her up.

Leah raises her eyebrow and shakes her head, “Just be kind, will you? We’re not going to be here much longer, so just try and enjoy it.”

“I can’t be kind when I’m this miserable, can I?” You reply cheekily.

“At this rate I’ll take you back to the hotel myself to stop you complaining so much,” Beth jokes with you, leaning forward in her seat to be able to speak to you.

“Can you? Please?” You plead with her.

Beth snorts in amusement, “If only.” She responds since it's’ unlikely to happen since you all came on the coach.

“This sucks so much,” You grumble again, not enjoying yourself one bit, “At least let me go and sit with Kyra instead then!”

“Nope,” Leah replies in disagreement, popping the P.

“Why not? That’s so unfair!” You whine in protest.

“Suck it up, sunshine,” Leah states, not very sympathetically as she pats your chin and you scowl at her, “Don’t give me that look, you’re staying here where I can make sure  you stay out of trouble.”

“I’m not gonna get in any– Fine, alright,” You concede with a resigned sigh, noting the look that the blonde was giving you, “Guess I’m stuck here then.”

“That’s what I thought,” Leah says, a satisfied smirk spreading across her face.

“You pair are trouble together,” Beth chimes in from where she sat with Rory on her lap, “It’s for the best that you’re not sitting together.”

“I still don’t like it though,” You insist.

“What would cheer you up, Monkey?” Kim questions you with a thoughtful expression, doing anything if it means you stop whining for a bit.

“To not be here,” You tell her honestly.

“Anything else other than that?” Kim asks, amusedly.

“I want one of those cool hats,” You tell the woman, gesturing to the hats that you saw earlier and you could hardly run onto the pitch, “Cos they look so cool, so I want one!”

“Alright fine, we’ll get you a hat if it stops you complaining so much,” Kim agrees with your request for one of the stadium hats, “We’ll get you one on the way out after the game finishes, okay?”

“Yes, get in!” You grin in triumph, fist pumping the air again, “How much longer until the game ends now then?” You question, eager enough to get out of the stadium.

“Just be patient,” Leah parrots her earlier answer, running her slender fingers through Buddy’s hair as the little girl continues to sleep on her.

“But I’m so bored though,” You're back to complaining again as the rest of the game drags on, your attention going directly towards your phone in your pocket as you slide it out.

Starting with searching for places on google in relation to skydiving and you get the idea to send a link to a few good ones to Jordan.

Monkey Menace 🙈💗 This could be so much fun! Can we go? Pretty please!🤭😋

It didn't take less than 10 minutes for a reply to come through, despite the time difference.

Dobby 🧦 Skydiving? I don't think that's a good idea, kid. Maybe we can look at other things to do instead? 🤔

You’ve barely even been able to reply to her text when Leah catches onto what you’re doing, leaning over and raising her eyebrow, “What are you up to, Menace?”

“Nothing, I’m just texting Jordan,” You answer a bit too quickly while trying to sound innocent.

The blonde  doesn’t look entirely convinced as she pulls her own phone out to send a text to Jordan.

Le 🤠 I don’t know what Monkey is sending you but please ignore whatever it is 🙄

A few minutes later there’s a response of her own.

Jord 🛟🐬 Links to a skydiving place apparently 😂 I was a bit confused but no worries, guessing she's trying to play us against each other again then?🤣

“Really, Menace? I told you no,” Leah is exhaling a sigh while holding out her hand, “Phone, now.”

“What? Why?” You protest, trying to feign your innocence while keeping a tight hold of your own device.

“You’re really asking that? I told you to not text Jordan about this, and you didn’t listen,” Leah says, firmly as she purses her lips and keeps her phone outstretched, “Hand it over, menace.”

Reluctant to do so, you hand over your phone while you shoot her a pleading look, “But–”

“Nope,” Leah cuts you off, slipping your phone into her own pocket, “I’m keeping a hold of it for the day. Enjoy the rest of the game, or at least pretend to.”

You cross your arms and huff in disagreement, clearly not in the mood to enjoy the rest of the game and now you don't even have your phone to entertain you either.

This day just got a whole lot worse.

Much to your relief, the baseball game ended sooner rather than later and you were now back on the coach with your newfound hat that you have acquired.

Buddy, completely oblivious to the noise and commotion on the bus around her, had decided to fall asleep on Kim’s lap when she briefly woke up.

“Can I have my phone back now?” You question, settling in your seat with a hopeful expression.

“Nope, not a chance,” Leah replies without any hesitation, her eyes fixed on her own phone.

Way too rub it in your face that you don’t have yours or what?

“Seriously? Why not?” You protest, your voice edging into a whine.

“Because I told you I was holding onto it for the rest of the day, and I meant it,” Leah says, turning to meet your gaze with a calm but firm look, “I’m not changing my mind.” She adds.

“But that’s not fair!” You grumble, crossing your arms in frustration.

“Life’s not all that fair sometimes, sunshine,” Leah responds with a small knowing smile, “I’m sure you’ll learn to live without it for a few hours.”

You huff dramatically, slumping your shoulders back in your seat as you tug the brim of your new hat down over your eyes, “This is so stupid.” You mutter under your breath.

“I’m sure you’ll survive, Monkey,” Leah chuckles softly, reaching over to ruffle your hair.

You instantly dodge it and growl at the blonde, “Get off!”

“Well someone’s in a delightful mood,” Leah teases, raising an eyebrow at your antics.

“What’d you expect?” You snap back, still in a sulk about the loss of your phone.

Leah exhales a small sigh, “Sooner we get back to the hotel, the better at this rate,” She states, knowing that your mood will not change.

“Maybe I’d be in a better mood if you just gave me my phone back,” You counter, shooting her a hopeful glance.

“Think again, Menace,” Leah says with a smirk, shutting down that idea immediately.

“I’m bored!” You grumble aloud, throwing your hands up in the air in protest, “And I don’t even have my phone either now, thanks to you. So, what else am I supposed to do?”

“Keep your voice down,” Leah adds, shooting you a firm look before looking at Buddy who is still somehow fast asleep cuddled into Kim despite the commotion going on around her.

Lia looks up from her seat across the aisle, “Maybe you should try and sleep?”

“You might be in a better mood then,” Beth quips from her spot, glancing over with a grin.

You gave a dramatic sigh, slumping back in your seat while you cradled your injured ankle, “But I’m not even tired.”

“No of course not, you’re just grumpy for no reason at all,” Leah teases.

“I’m not grumpy,” You retort, though your tone betrays you as the pain in your ankle makes it even harder to stay upbeat, and your mood is scouring fast.

“You could’ve fooled us,” Steph chimes in from where she sits behind you on the coach, “You’ve been like this since we were at the stadium.”

“I have not!” You protest, wincing as you shift in your seat.

At least you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re at the hotel again and you’re able to take your next dosage of painkillers to try and numb the unbearable pain in your ankle.

“This constant whining isn’t doing anything to help your case,” Leah points out, “It won’t be longer until we’re back at the hotel my girl, don’t worry,” She reassures, noting your pain and discomfort due to the lack of medicine.

“Maybe if I had my phone back then I’d be distracted,” You give the idea with a bit of hopefulness that it might work, “But no, I’m stuck here on this coach, bored and in pain, and without it. Fantastic.”

“Oh, how will you cope,” Leah responds, her tone playful as she rolls her eyes at your dramatics.

You huff in annoyance and cross your arms,  “No sympathy at all,” You pause as you look at the blonde who looks the least bit bothered, “Seriously?”

“Stop whining,” Leah murmurs, shaking her head, “We’ll be back at the hotel soon enough.”

Your eyes lit up in hope, “And then I can have my phone back?”

“Oh no,” Leah snorts in response and continues to shake her head, “You’re still not getting that back until tomorrow like I said, but nice try.”

“Great, well that’s just fantastic,” You throw your hands up in the air, “You’re no fun, all because I want to go Skydiving and nobody thinks it’s a good idea, you’re all a bunch of buzzkills!” You mutter, sinking back into your seat with a defeated sigh.

What else were you supposed to do for the rest of the night without a phone? This day definitely did somewhat suck!

At least you had the match to look forward to– Oh wait, you couldn’t even play in that because of this damn stupid ankle injury.

Damn it, that sucks even more!

© scribblesofagoonerr