#it's been so cool learning about space as well :))

[osunari]

⚠︎ s i l e n t t e m p t a t i o n s ( 18+ )

—ch.7

➤ s t a r t

Mr. crawling x MC

— h o m i c i p h e r 𒌧

“Fingers, Feet, and Lies”

+ slight NSFW

You were leaving the domain, but this time, it was with someone you trusted—someone who had proven himself time and again, even when you didn’t fully understand the depths of his feelings for you. As you walked toward the elevator, the doors slid open, with the two of you stepping inside. The metal doors closed with a soft hum, sealing you in the small, confined space.

Mr. crawling, who had always been so attuned to the oddities of the world around him, looked around with a mixture of curiosity and mild concern. His body lowered instinctively, his hands on the floor as if he feared the machinery might collapse on the two of you. You laughed softly at his antics, the sound light and genuine. The whole situation was absurd, but you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. The anxiety that had clung to you for so long, the weight of your past decisions—it was lifting.

For a brief moment, the reflection in the elevator doors caught your eye. It was ms. bride, standing at a distance from beside your own reflection, waving a small handkerchief in the air. Her figure was framed by the soft, warm light, a fleeting moment of connection before the door closed completely. You felt your heart tighten as you looked back at her. Without words, you gave her a quiet look of thanks—an acknowledgment of everything she had done for you.

Mr. crawling, noticing her as well, waved his arms high in the air, his hands flailing with a kind of unrestrained enthusiasm. It was an odd sight, but it was heartfelt. A simple but sincere “thank you” from him, a sign that, despite everything, he wasn’t just letting you go—he was grateful for the journey you’d shared.

As the elevator began its slow ascent, you realized that for the first time in a long time, you felt peace. You weren’t running anymore. You weren’t hiding from the things that had haunted you. You were simply moving forward, side by side with the one person who had remained by your side. And you knew, without a doubt, that this was where you were meant to be.

You and your companion were finally transported back to the overworld, the familiar, fresh air of your homeland greeting you like a warm embrace after a long time away. You couldn’t help but inhale deeply, taking in the clean scent of nature, the absence of the metal scraps and the lingering, acrid stench of blood that had become so common in the otherworld. It was a strange contrast, almost jarring—how quickly you had become accustomed to the odors and sights of that place, but now that you were home, you found yourself rediscovering the simpler, purer air of your own world.

Looking beside you, you could see that your companion seemed to be adjusting to the surroundings as well, but his eyes still carried the curious wonder of someone who was experiencing this new world for the first time. You were excited to share your home with him, just as you had shared the otherworld with him. You knew that despite the strangeness of it all, he would find comfort here, and you could already imagine the bond you two would continue to build together in this peaceful place. It felt right.

Later that day, as you sat beside the tub, scrubbing your companion’s long hair with the care and precision you had learned over the past few hours, a sense of contentment filled you. His hair, so fine and seemingly endless, drained the tub of the Fino hair mask you had used. You had been at it for almost two hours now, but the process was oddly satisfying. He was completely fascinated with the foreign feeling and cool sensation of the water, his body almost weightless in the tub, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. You tried your best to ignore the temptation to peek at his athletic build—though it wasn’t easy, considering how little he seemed to care about modesty.

“This is for my bedsheets… this is for my bedsheets…” you muttered under your breath as you scrubbed his skin with the loofa—your eyes closed tight to prevent any awkwardness. The words were a quiet mantra to calm yourself as you worked diligently, trying not to let your gaze wander. His bare body, innocent in its own way, didn’t bother him, but you couldn’t help but feel a slight embarrassment. You raised his arm gently, scrubbing underneath, trying to focus on the task at hand. Surprisingly, he was obedient, listening to your gentle directions as you worked to clean the layers of grime from his body.

“几ㄚ(me) 千乃几卩(feel) 山ㄚ几(good) ! 几ㄚ(me) 千乃几卩(feel) ㄚㄥ山几(clean) !” he chimed happily, clearly content with the bath. His simple joy made you laugh, and you couldn’t help but mock his words as you continued to scrub more and more layers of dirt from his skin. “Yeah… you clean,” you said with a chuckle, trying to ignore the fact that you were practically bathing him like a pet, but in a way, it felt comforting.

After his bath, you quickly wrapped him in a towel, his damp hair still dripping slightly as you ushered him out of the bathroom. You left him to wait outside while you took your turn, and as you bathed, you felt a sense of relief you hadn’t known in a long time. The familiarity of your own bathroom, the space where you had once lived without fear, was like a balm to your soul. Unlike the otherworldly washroom, which had been stained with both physical and emotional trauma, here you felt at peace. You glanced at the reflective faucet, checking for the all-too-familiar sight of the red umbrella, but it was gone. It was just you now, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you were truly alone, free from the terrors that had haunted you.

A sigh of relief escaped you as you wrapped your body in a towel, drying your hair with a microfiber towel. The trauma had left its marks, but for the first time in so long, you could breathe freely. You walked to the door, curious about how your companion was doing. You opened it, only to be startled by his tall figure standing right in front of you, his torso exposed and his hair damp. A towel hung loosely around his neck, and the sight of him, so unexpectedly lean yet muscular—took your breath away. He had always been strong, but seeing him like this, with his bare upper body revealed, you couldn’t help but admire. The fact that he had spent so much time crawling had surely built his core strength, making his body look even more athletic than you had anticipated.

You quickly shook your head, cheeks flushed a bright red as your eyes refused to meet his, focusing instead on the floor. You clutched your towel tighter, trying to cover up your flustered state. “Wh-what you doing here?!” you stammered, trying to hide your obvious embarrassment.

“几ㄚ(me) ㄒ乃ㄩ几(wait) 几ㄩ(you) , 几ㄚ(me) 山ㄚ几(good) ?” he asked, his eyes shining with an innocent hope, waiting for your approval. His words were so simple, yet so endearing, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. The way he looked at you, with that quiet devotion, made it impossible to say no. You nodded quickly, though you still couldn’t keep your eyes from darting around the room. “You good…” you managed to say, sweatdropping as you finally met his gaze.

He giggled at your reaction, feeling your heart stop for a moment. The sound was so pure, so innocent, yet it made you feel something strange—a fluttering in your chest that you couldn’t quite explain. I guess he’s just like other guys, wanting to be called a good boy… You thought, though it was strange, coming from him. But as you looked at him, standing there with that goofy smile, it didn’t feel strange at all. In fact, it felt just right.

Later, as you both finally settled into bed, the world outside seemed to fall away. His newly cleaned, silky hair served as your blanket, and he spooned you from behind, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield. You couldn’t help but feel safe, despite everything. His body, once strange and otherworldly, now felt like a comfort you didn’t want to live without. He was easy to care for, obedient, and surprisingly gentle. It felt like he had been waiting for moments like this all along, for you to be the one to care for him in this way. You had clothed him in your oversized clothes, but even those weren’t enough to cover his broad frame. So, you had gone and borrowed some of your dad’s clothes, dressing him in a loose, oversized white tee and baggy sweatpants that barely reached his ankles. Somehow, it suited him, and he wore them with a strange, innocent pride.

As you lay there, nestled into his warmth, a thought crept into your mind. What if the same thing happens to him? You remembered how, when you entered the otherworld, you were human but slowly turned into a something less the longer you stayed. What if that was the same for him? What if, the longer he stayed in this world, he would change too—become something different, something… more human? You weren’t sure, but the thought lingered, a shadow that you couldn’t quite shake.

But, despite all the uncertainties, you realized that it didn’t matter right now. You were content. In this moment, you were with him, and that was enough.

. . .

From the shadows beneath the bed, mr. gap peered out, his sharp eyes catching sight of you and someone cuddled together in the dim light. His lip curled into a grimace, the sight of your contentment gnawing at something inside him. He preferred you troubled—lost in fear or doubt. This… this happiness didn’t suit his taste. Saltiness filled him as he whispered, “Psst. ㄚ几乙(give) 卩爪山乙(finger) ?” His raspy voice cut through the silence, hoping to get a rise from you. But you were deep in sleep, completely oblivious to his presence.

“Psst… 几ㄚ(you) 卄乃几(hear) 山乙尺(gap) ? ㄚ几乙(give) 卩爪山乙(finger) . . 卩爪山乙(finger) ㄩ几卩(fun) !” he tried again, his voice a low croak as he stretched his head forward, yearning for attention. But you remained still, your soft breathing the only reply.

Just as he leaned closer, grumbling to himself about the lack of reaction, a faint shuffle caught his ears. His gaze shifted, watching as a dark pool of hair began spilling from the bed above, draping onto the floor. His brows furrowed in confusion. She had long black hair all along? The thought lingered for only a second before he realized the gruesome truth. Mr. crawling’s distorted form came into view, his long fingers dangling dangerously close to the floor.

Mr. gap recoiled, muttering, “几ㄩ(you) ? ! 卄ㄚ乙(how) 几ㄩ(you) 几爪ㄩ(here) ? !”But before he could retreat, a sharp jab, a claw-like finger—collided with his eyeball.

“AH! 卄卩爪几(hurt) ! ㄚ乃(no) 千尺乇(fair) !” he cried out, clutching his face in pain. The searing sensation was too much to bear, forcing him to vanish in an instant, retreating to whatever dark corner he called home, muttering bitterly, “几ㄩ(you) ㄚ乃(no) 尺ㄚ乃(fun) . . . 几ㄩ(you) 卩乙ㄚ(harm) !”

Your room was a cozy chaos of your interests. Posters of a certain anime character lined the walls, their smug, cool expression practically daring anyone to challenge their allure. Figurines of the same character stood proudly on shelves, their carefully painted features practically glowing in the soft light of your lamp. And on the couch, nestled against your chest, was a plushie of said character—a squishy, adorable version of your fictional favorite.

Mr. crawling sat on the floor, watching you in silence. At first, he seemed content, his head tilted as he observed you hugging the stuffed toy with a dreamy look in your eyes. But the longer he stared, the more his brow furrowed, the faint pout on his lips deepening. His glowing eyes darted from the plushie to the posters on the wall and then to the figurines.

Finally, he broke. “ㄚ几卩(why) . . . 尺几ㄚ(who) ㄒ乂匚(this) ?” he grumbled, his voice sharp with annoyance.

You blinked, surprised. “Who? Who what?”

He gestured wildly around the room. “ㄒ乂卩(that) !” His clawed finger pointed to the posters, the figurines, and finally the plushie in your arms. “乃ㄩ(that) . . ! ㄚ爪卩(why) ㄚ乃(him) 山乙乂匚(everywhere) ? ? ㄚ爪(why) 卩几ㄩ(hug) ㄚ乃(him) ? ?” His glowing eyes darted from the walls to the shelves and back to you, his expression a mixture of confusion and frustration. His claws tapped against the floor as if he was trying to vent his annoyance without saying too much, but the way he kept glaring at the plushie in your arms gave him away. It was clear that he didn’t understand why this particular “him” had your attention—and worse, your affection.

You tilted your head, amused. “You jealous? Of my anime husb—”

“ㄚ乙乃(yes) !” he interrupted, scooting closer to you on the floor, his sharp knees clinking slightly against the hardwood. “几ㄚ(me) 山丂尺乙(jealous) . . ㄚ乃(him) 爪几(no) 乂ㄩ千(real) , ㄚ乃(him) 爪几(no) 卄乂爪(talk) . ㄚ乃(him) . . .” He trailed off, looking for the right word before motioning toward himself. “ㄚ乃(him) 爪几(no) ㄚ乃爪(like) 几ㄚ(me) .” he added, fueling his one-sided beef with the fictional character.

Your jaw dropped, equal parts stunned and entertained. “Wait, you jealous him?” you pointed at the various merchandise of your favorite character, your head turned to the sulking figure of mr. crawling—an amused expression creeping up to your face.

“ㄚ乙乃(yes) . . .” he said without hesitation, his pout deepening as he stared at the plushie. “ㄚ乃(him) 乃几(no) 乙ㄚ几卩丂(deserve) 几ㄩ(you) . 几ㄚ(me) ㄒㄚ乃卩(better) , 几ㄚ(me) ㄚ乃乙(here) , 几ㄚ(me) 山丂几(real) .”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Pff… you know him not real—”

With your sentence cut short, he turned and sat on the edge of your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world to make his point. He glanced at you, his nonexistent eyes narrowing slightly, gesturing for you to come closer without a single word spoken. You hesitated, clutching another one of your stuffed toy tighter to your chest as if it could shield you from the intensity of his gaze. But before you could think to step back, his hand shot out, gentle yet firm—and caught your wrist. The contact sent a jolt through you, and with a soft tug, he pulled you forward, your balance tipping precariously.

In one swift motion, you found yourself perched on his lap, your knees framing his hips as your body instinctively sought stability. His claws rested against your waist, warm and solid through the fabric of your clothes, keeping you steady yet holding you firmly in place. The proximity was dizzying, your breath catching in your throat as you felt the heat radiating off his body, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. His hands, one settling possessively on your hip and the other lightly brushing the curve of your thigh, sent a wave of warmth through you that made it impossible to look anywhere but at him. He tilted his head slightly, his nonexistent eyes scanning your face with an expression you couldn’t decipher—something between amusement and quiet intensity.

You shifted nervously, trying to adjust, but the subtle movement only made his grip on you tighten, his claws pressing against your skin in a way that was neither painful nor entirely innocent—as if a signal not to move too much. “丂山几爪(stay) .” he murmured, his voice low and rough, the faintest hint of a growl curling at the edges as his thumb drew slow circles just at the smooth surface of your thighs. The heat between you was suffocating, his closeness making it impossible to think of anything but the way he held you—as if he’d been waiting for this moment and wasn’t about to let it slip away. “ㄚ乃(him) 几乂(no) ㄚ乃卩(need) 几乂几卂(touch) .” he declared, his voice firm and final. “几ㄚ(me) ㄚ乃卩(need) 几乂几卂(touch) .”

“几乂爪(now) . .” he said, his glowing eyes locking onto yours with an almost childlike determination, “几ㄩ(you) 卩几ㄩ(hug) 几ㄚ(me) , ㄚ几乃卩(please) ?” You felt his hands come in contact with your lower behind, pushing you closer to him as he urged you into giving in. Your breath hitched at the closeness, his face inches away from colliding into yours. The slight pout on his lips was somehow both endearing and maddeningly smug, as if he knew he’d just won whatever one-sided competition he imagined he was having with the stuffed toy.

“T-tch… you being ridiculous.” you said, trying to sound stern, but your voice wavered.

“ㄚ乃(not) 乙乂ㄚ几卩(ridiculous) .” he replied firmly, his clawed fingers flexing slightly against your sides. “几ㄩ(you) 乃乂几(hug) 丨几乙(toy) , 几ㄩ(you) 乃乂几(hug) 卩爪几山(poster) .” His voice dropped to a grumble as he glanced at the walls. “ㄚ几爪(why) 几乂(not) 几ㄩ(me) ?”

You could feel the heat of his body against yours, and without thinking, you pulled yourself closer to him, your hands instinctively wrapping around his neck, fingers curling into his hair. The movement caused your hips to shift, making your body press more fully against his, and with the clumsy jolt—you noticed his body budge slightly under you. With his breath, a little quicker than before, brushed against your skin. You realized the slight squirming of his body—It was almost as if he was struggling to maintain his usual composure, and that gave you an idea. You moved your hip again, moving it with a slight rhythm this time and repeating the same motion twice. Your hands hovered above his nape, grabbing a handful of his hair and lifting it upwards away from his shoulders, you shifted your body just a little more—then there was that shudder again. His eyes flickered down, watching the friction happen closely, the way his bulge grew was probably still a mystery to him. You couldn't help but let a smirk pull at the corner of your lips. You saw the intensity of the situation in his gaze—how badly he wanted to stay still, yet couldn't help the way his body reacted to you. The control he usually had seemed to slip, just a little, and that realization fueled something inside you.

Without another thought, you leaned in close, your breath mingling with his, and instead of a simple hug or a teasing touch, you lifted your hand and cupped his chin, tilting his face toward you—giving him a sensual yet passionate kiss. The gesture was gentle, yet heated, a silent promise passing between you as his body stiffened in surprise, his face flushing a deep shade of red. For a moment, you both sat there, eyes locked, and you pulled back just slightly, taking in his befuddled gaze.

“You okay, baby?" you whispered, your voice playful but laced with something more intense. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt a slight heat rise to your cheeks. Calling him a word he didn’t understand felt so out of place, yet the moment it slipped out, you couldn’t help but feel a little stupid for doing so. It wasn’t that you thought he would understand the meaning, but somehow it felt like a slip-up, a word too human, too intimate for someone like him.

Still, despite your brief embarrassment, it was oddly fitting in the moment—something about the way his eyes softened under your touch made it feel like a small, tender connection between the two of you. His confusion didn’t matter; it still felt cute, and as ridiculous as it was, a part of you liked it. Even if he didn’t understand the weight of it, you did, and that made the moment feel real in a way that words couldn’t fully explain.

Your fingers traced down his jaw, grazing down lower to his shoulder, caressing the muscle there with a soft, lingering touch. The air between you thickened, charged with anticipation.

His eyes narrowed slightly—following your fingers as it caressed his shoulder, his voice came out low, unsure, as he repeated the words you’d just said, “You okay… baby?” The way he said it caught you completely off guard—his accent was thick, his pronunciation clumsy, and it felt more like a rough attempt than anything that resembled what you had said. Yet, despite how off it sounded, it somehow added a layer of sweetness to the moment, his curiosity trying to mimic your words.

You blinked, caught between laughter and surprise, unsure whether to explain or just let it slide. The sound of him saying the word, with that little mix of innocence and confusion, made your heart flutter for reasons you couldn’t quite place. It was cute, but it also made you feel strangely protective, as if you didn’t want him to get it wrong, even if it wasn’t something he could truly understand just yet.

As you adjusted your position slightly, trying to find a more comfortable way to sit on his lap, his large hands suddenly found its ways on your bare hips. “You okay… baby?” he repeated once more, as if experimenting with words, his hands copying the same motion you used as you caressed him in the shoulder earlier. It seemed like he’s already learnt a lot from you. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, surprising you a bit as his grip felt a little too aggressive—shooting him a look.

“Careful with those.” you warned.

“几ㄚ(me) ㄩ乃乙卩爪(careful) .” he promised, his voice low but earnest. “几ㄚ(you) 卩爪几尺(soft) .”

Your cheeks heated, and you turned your head away, biting back the embarrassed grin threatening to surface. “You’re impossible.” you muttered in your language, despite him not understanding the half.

He tilted his head, his expression tinted with curiosity. “Impossible . . ? ㄚ几(it) ㄚ乃几乇(good) ?” he questioned, still continuing the motion with his hands on your hips—this time a bit more gentler.

You couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped your lips, a little breathless. “Maybe.” you said, avoiding his gaze as you quickly averted your own, trying to hide the way your face was flushing, the warmth creeping up your neck and spreading to your cheeks.

Beneath him, you could feel the growing problem in his pants, the pressure of his hands on you, it made everything feel more intense, more real. The sudden awareness of how close you both were made the situation feel even more overwhelming, your heart racing in your chest as the flush deepened on your face. You couldn’t quite understand what you were feeling, but you were certain it had nothing to do with teasing anymore.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed him glance at the stuffed toy on the couch, his smug smile returning. “丨几乙(toy) 几乂(no) 卩爪ㄚ(come) 乃ㄒ几(back) .” he said firmly, pulling you a little closer. “几ㄩ(you) ㄚ几卩爪(mine) .”

You giggled, shaking your head at his jealousy. “Fine. You ridiculous.”

But deep down, you didn’t mind at all.

. . .

“几ㄩ(you) ㄚ乃乙(lie) .” he began, his voice calm but laced with something colder, something displeased. There was no mistaking the weight of his words—they hung in the air like a heavy stone, threatening to break apart the fragile truce they’d held. “几ㄩ(you) 山ㄒ乃(say) ㄚ乃(she) 卄几乇(safe) ㄚ乃山(with) 几ㄩ(you) .” he scoffed, the word rolling off his tongue with a bitter edge. He took a step closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers, as though daring her to deny it. “ㄒ乃几(then) . . . 乂乙几(why) ㄚ乃(she) ㄚ乃山(with) 山乙ㄚ丂爪(somebody else) ?” His voice grew darker, every word cutting deeper than the last.

The tension in the room had built up to a boiling point, every movement more consuming than the last. Mr. scarletella’s usual poise had given way to something darker, a growing fury beneath his cool exterior. His gaze, sharp and unforgiving, never wavered from ms. bride as she stood across from him, arms crossed defiantly. The space between them crackled with an almost tangible animosity, but beneath it was a layer of confusion and disbelief on mr. scarletella’s part, a confusion that only fueled his anger further.

Ms. bride’s nonexistent face twisted with anger, her composure faltering as the truth finally surfaced in front of her. She stepped forward, her heels clicking against the floor as she closed the distance between them. “ㄚ乃(she) 乙几爪乇(safe) ㄒ乃几(with) 山乙ㄚ丂爪(somebody else) !” she spat, her voice a mix of frustration and fury. “山乙ㄚ丂爪(somebody else) ㄚ乃几(take) ㄚ乃丂爪(good) 山乙几(care) 卄爪 (of) ㄚ乃(her) ! ㄚ乃(she) 卩几乃丂(should not) ㄒ乙(be) ㄒ乃几(with) 几ㄩ(you) !” Her words were sharp and cutting, each one landing with a thud, meant to pierce him, to drive home the betrayal she was now admitting.

“几ㄩ(you) ㄒ乃几(think) 几ㄩ(you) 爪卩尺(know) ㄒ乙几乃(better) ?” Scarletella’s voice was low, dangerous. His fists clenched at his sides, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he took another step closer to her, his every movement controlled, restrained. “几ㄩ(you) 乃乂ㄩ几(always) ㄚㄒ(in) 乃乙几(the) 山卩爪(way) ㄚ爪(of) 千丂卄乃(others) ? ㄚ乃(she) 几ㄒ卩(was) ㄚ乃几(mine) . ㄚ乃(she) 山乙(was) 卄ㄚ乃(happy) ㄒ山几(with) 几ㄚ(me) .” His eyes darkened, there was a cold, controlled edge to his stare as he ate her up, the weight of his accusation pressing down on her with each passing second. “几ㄩ(you) 乃卄几(help) ㄚ乃(them) , ㄚ山乃(now) ㄒ乙乂(they) 山卩乃几爪(together) . ㄚ乃几(leave) 几ㄩ(you) 乇几乃(here) , ㄩ丂乃丂ㄖ(alone) .”

Ms. bride’s anger flared, and for a brief moment, she looked as though she might strike him. But instead, she took a deep breath, visibly forcing herself to calm down. “几ㄩ(you) ㄚ乃乇(need) 几乂(stop) ㄒㄚ卩(talking) .” she snapped, though there was a sharp edge of regret in her voice. “几ㄩ(you) ㄚ乃几丂卩(unsafe) . 几ㄩ(you) ㄚ乃(not) ㄒ卂卩(take) ㄚ乃卂(care) ㄚ尺(of) ㄚ乃(her) .” Her hands gestured around the room, her frustration with everything that had happened now apparent. “几ㄩ(you) ㄚ乃丂(make) ㄚ乃(her) 山ㄚ乂几(suffer) . 几ㄩ(you) ㄩ几ㄖ(desire) ㄚ乃(her) ? ㄚ乃(she) ㄚ乂卩爪(afraid) ㄚ千(of) 几ㄩ(you) .”

The anger in Mr. Scarletella’s eyes flared again, stronger this time. “乃几爪卩(bring) ㄚ乃(her) 千几乙(back) ㄚㄒ(to) 几ㄩ(me) .” he demanded—the words were like daggers, each one aimed directly at the heart of the situation. His voice was laced with desperation, but the cold fury behind his words was undeniable. “几ㄚ(me) 山ㄚ几乃(want) ㄚ乃(her) . 几ㄚ(me) 几ㄚㄒ乃(need) ㄚ乃(her) . 几ㄚ(me) 卩乂几ㄒ几(desire) ㄚ乃(her) .” His gaze hardened as he took a step toward ms. bride, the tension in his body tightening with every word that passed through his clenched teeth.

Before he could further his steps, ms. bride’s hand moved, her gloved palm landing sharply against his cheek with a loud squeal that echoed in the otherwise silent room. Despite his presence being an illusion of his own delusions, ms. bride’s fuming impact somehow breaking the barrier of his protective essence—made him pause at the oddness of the moment. The force of it shocked him, but it wasn’t the slap itself that stung. It was the truth of her betrayal, the sting of losing you from someone he had trusted.

She didn’t wait for him to respond. With a huff, she turned on her heel, her gown swishing as she walked away from him. Her hands clutched at the fabric as if to steady herself, but there was no turning back now. Mr. scarletella’s gaze fixated on the ground, his anger seething beneath the surface, but the hurt was there too, deep down. He had given the person he cherished the most, trusted someone he shouldn’t have. And now, in this moment, your whole being was with somebody else—worse of it, it had been his foe. Even trusting the bride hadn’t been an easy decision for him, it took him time to build trust—all for it to come tubling down. Was it just a thing with girls? Was he really that wrong when it came to their ways? He never understood.

With one last glance at the hallway where she had turned, mr. scarletella’s chest tightened with fury. It was all so blatant now—the bride had played him, used his feelings to manipulate him into giving up what he held dear. And now, the worst part of it all was that, for a moment, he had actually believed her. Why had he not realized before? The realization hit him like a ton of bricks; nobody but himself had been the fool all along.

.

.

.

psst.

.

.

.

For a moment, mr. scarletella’s rage-filled thoughts were interrupted by a faint sound. A raspy, quiet whisper broke through the suffocating tension of the dimly lit hallway. “Psst.” It was almost too faint to register, but his sharp senses caught it. He froze, his void-like eyes narrowing as they scanned the flickering shadows. The sound came again, a little louder this time. “Psst.” His head snapped toward the source—a vent nestled in the corner of the hallway, where darkness gathered like a secret waiting to be uncovered.

From behind the slats, a familiar figure emerged. The dim glow from the hallway light cast eerie shadows across mr. gap’s gaunt, twisted face as he pressed himself partially out of the vent. His hollow eyes glimmered with mischief, his wide, unnerving grin was painted across his pale face like a haunting mask. “Scarletella…” Mr. gap hissed, the syllables of his name drawn out in a rasp that sounded like nails scratching against metal. “几ㄚ(me) . . . 卩乇几爪(know) ㄒ乙几(where) ㄚ乃(she) ㄚㄒ(is) .”

The air in the hallway shifted as mr. scarletella turned fully to face him, the weight of the moment crashing over him like a wave. For the first time since ms. bride’s betrayal, a flicker of hope pierced the cloud of fury and despair that had consumed him. His void-like eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the shadowy figure before him. “山卩几爪(show) .” he said coldly, though his voice betrayed a flicker of urgency.

Mr. gap chuckled, a low, rattling sound that echoed in the quiet. “几ㄚ(me) 乃几卩爪乇(special) , 乙乃(yes) ? 几ㄚ(me) 山丂卩爪几(travel) 乙ㄚ乂几(easily) . . .” He tapped his spindly fingers against the vent for emphasis. “ㄚ乃几ㄖ爪卩(overworld) , 几乂ㄚ丂(ghost) 几卂ㄩ丂几(apartment) , 几ㄚ(me) ㄒ乃(go) 丂ㄩ乙几乂(everywhere) . 几ㄚ(me) ㄒ乙丂(see) ㄚ卂卩山爪乙(everything) .” His grin widened, teeth glinting in the dim light. “ㄚ乃几(know) ㄒ乙乂(where) ㄚ乃(she) ㄚㄒ(is) . ㄚ乃几(know) . . . 山卩爪(what) 几ㄩ(you) 几ㄒ几乃(want) .”

Scarletella’s composure cracked just slightly, his hands flexing at his sides. “几ㄩ(you) 乙ㄚ乃卩(sure) ?” he demanded, stepping closer, the force of his presence bearing down on the smaller figure. “几ㄩ(you) ㄚ乃爪卩(bring) ㄚ乃(her) ㄚㄒ(to) 几ㄚ(me) ?”

“几ㄚ(me) 乙ㄚ乃卩(sure) .” Mr. gap crooned, tilting his head. “乃几卩(but) . . .” His voice trailed off, his grin widening, eyes narrowing with devious glee. “几ㄚ(me) 尺乃ㄒ几(want) ㄒ乙乃乂几(something) 千爪ㄒ(first) . . . 卩爪几卂(trade) , ㄚ乃(yes) ?”

Scarletella’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding audibly. He hated being in the hands of others, especially someone like mr. gap, whose trustability was as stable as the flickering lights above them. But desperation clawed at him, the thought of her being out of his grasp was unbearable. “ㄚ乃几ㄒ(alright) . 卩爪几卂(trade) .” he allowed, his tone sharp.

Gap’s grin grew impossibly wider, his crooked teeth gleaming. “卩爪丂ㄚ几(simple) 尺乃几卩(things) , ㄚ乃几爪(easy) 尺乃几卩(things) .” He began listing them off with a casual air, as though discussing the weather; “千卄乃几(head) . ㄚ乃丂几(exactly) 64 乃ㄚ乂几丂(fingernails) . 2716 ㄒ乃乂几(strand) ㄚ尺(of) 尺卄山乃(hair) . 4 千尺卩几(pair) ㄚ尺(of) 几爪乂(feet) . 几ㄒㄚ(and) . . . 千ㄚ乇卄几(tongue) .”

The request was grotesque, macabre, and entirely in line with mr. gap’s nature. Scarletella’s expression didn’t waver, his inky eyes burning with resolve. If that was the price to pay, then so be it. “卩爪乇几(done) .” he said without hesitation, the word a cold knife slicing through the air. “几爪卩(but) . . . 尺千(if) 几ㄩ(you) ㄚ丂乃(lie) . . .”

“几ㄚ(me) 几乂(not) ㄚ丂乃(lie) .” Mr. gap interrupted, his grin never faltering. “几ㄚ(me) 几ㄩ(your) 卩爪��乂(last) ㄚ乃几乇(hope) . 几ㄚ(me) 卩爪乙卄乇(savior) .” He tilted his head, his voice dropping into an almost mocking tone. “几ㄚ(you) ㄒ乃几(want) ㄚ乃(her) , ㄚ几(yes) ? 乃几ㄚ(then) ㄒ尺几爪(trust) 几ㄚ(me) .”

Scarletella didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. The deal was struck, the thought of seeing her again, of reclaiming what was his—overshadowed the horror of the bargain he had just made. With a finishing chuckle, mr. gap disappeared back into the vent, his unsettling laughter echoing down the hallway, leaving scarletella standing in the dim light, his shadow stretching long and dark across the floor.

—ch.7

➤ e n d

“Fingers, Feet, and Lies”

[autistudyblr]

17.1 - revision!

i decided to make a post to motivate myself to do some last minute studying, the exam is tomorrow :') luckily i don't need to understand many details, there's just so much content to revise. it's been a really interesting module though!

🎶 don't delete the kisses - wolf alice

[keeps-ache]

been telling my siblings 'you would NOT make it in vulcan academy' when they do smth goofy recently and nobody's been able to refute lol

[pomrania]

Ackermann's Demons by @arehera I always love coming across stuff that's just RPGified concepts from different fields. So I appreciate this as a piece of art in the RPG medium, but you couldn't pay me to play it.

LADY FIONA'S MANSE by @itskobold This is probably inadvisable to play with anyone other than close friends or bitter enemies. I do love the thing about making a veiled remark on the item you steal, that's always amusing.

Russian Roulette by @karlmarxmaybe This seems like a horrible idea, to play this game as written; but the same applies to "normal" Russian Roulette so I guess that's a feature not a bug. Also, the writing for this is just CHILLING in places, well done.

BUGKNIGHT by @corvidcorgi The game itself seems cool enough, but what really caught my interest was the notes for it. (…listen, I'm tired as I write this, my brain hasn't been braining well today.) Also "fuck it, that's out of scope" sounds like a motto for the whole event, actually.

I'M NOT LEARNING TO PLAY MAGICAL GATHERING by @txttletale I was predisposed to like this just from reading the title, as someone who's had negative experiences with being explained MtG rules; and as someone who thinks that the individual cards are pretty cool, the rest of it just seems tailor-made for my preferences. I want to play this dammit.

I'm too tired to write a proper RPG by yours truly Play this if you're tired. I'm not joking, I genuinely think it's a good idea. Despite that the thing itself is basically a shitpost I wrote; it has a core of "get some rest", but slightly gamified, and with an alternative to "setting an alarm".

The Machine War, and the people by @josie-like-the-girls-name I was going to make a comment on "how do you tell whether silver is white or grey", but on a reread I noticed "accept ambiguity", which… fits with what I know about war reporting. (And also what I know about counting how many cars of a given colour pass by somewhere.) This doesn't seem like it would be FUN, but it seems like it would be FITTING.

Rote 1st Edition by @sabrinahawthorne I always like things that give a particular curse associated with having a particular magic.

Six Weeks on a Wild Planet by @specialagentartemis It's cool. Nice and simple base mechanics, easy to reskin, rewards imagination on the part of the players but doesn't require too much from scratch.

Very Specific Thresholds by @bendandsnap-cummerbund Gotta love stuff that's basically a shitpost, especially when I'd already known the thing which inspired it. I'm vaguely curious about how the number totals were assigned, and if they lead to an even spread of results (and also at which point you'd be able to rule out certain subjects), but I don't want to nerd-snipe myself. I wouldn't be able to play this, because I'm horrible at that specific type of improv (and it just grates against me when I try), but I'd love to watch some skilled improv people do it.

You are on the moon. etc by @moon-of-curses I'm not writing the whole title, it's a literal paragraph. Still love stuff based off memes, especially when they make it make sense; both gameplay, and WHY one guy might want to kill another guy on the moon (and that just in the space of one sentence).

Continuation from my previous thread (because it got long), of stuff from @200-word-rpgs that I find interesting.

THE CURSE: A Rabbit and Steel Fangame by @ringedretrospective I'm not sure I've even HEARD of "Rabbit and Steel" before, let alone know what it's like. But having "apologize for what you did last night", as the single sentence for the "day" phase, amuses me greatly.

Make Brown by @thee-rat-king I like colour stuff; I also appreciate how "should or shouldn't end up brown" is a 50% thing determined at the start of the game. And that's just SUCH a cool concept, how one player gets their colour combined with that of the other.

Paleolithic Fantasy by @cavetalesz I agree with the writer (whose url is PERFECTLY fitted for this game), we need more stuff set in this… setting. And also more FANTASY stuff in that setting; heck, if we're going from the thing we commonly see in fantasy of "magic has been fading from the world", then the earlier back we go, the more room there is for magic (and also it's not like there's any written documentation to contradict it). As to the game itself, I appreciate how the "stuff you find" table includes entries with relevant stats, and then at the end there's just "the antlered man", no detail given.

Elegy For A Better Yesterday by @notsomeoneyouknow I don't have enough familiarity with John Woo movies to properly appreciate this. But from the design notes, it seems like a lot of thought went into mechanics that properly match the theme.

Mires by @i-exist-for-spleen and manguypersondude I appreciate something that, as they put it, turns "how partial a GM is inevitably going to be" into a feature and not a bug. Also, something that started with a design requirement ("no dice math") and then built from there. And yeah, when you just stumble upon a theme or concept that ties everything neatly together, that is SUCH a good feeling; the spark of inspiration that lights up the tinder you've prepared from your own efforts.

You Know How This Story Ends by @indraklyr I just think it's cool; everyone has things that will happen, then those things get placed in an order, then you play out how the things happen.

You Sunk My Battleship! by @ineffable-gallimaufry Gotta respect something that finds a way to turn BATTLESHIP, of all things, into an RPG.

[monsterbroth]

i woke up early today and am way too energised my brain is like spilling in circles but I still have not the right energy to be coherent or focus on actually doing anything with it

[gregmarriage]

it’s so hard being a lesbian, bc it’s in our nature to bring out the u-haul immediately, but also, i have a really bad habit of rushing things in an unhealthy way, and losing myself. so now i’m trying to take things slow with ppl (it’s…difficult 🙂)

[deadsetobsessions]

Ghost King Phantom was an odd addition to the League. J’onn was often the last to find others odd but from the get-go, Phantom was the only quiet spot he’d have in his telepathic field. At first, it was off putting as most of the people that slipped beyond the reach of his immediate field tended to be villains and the like. But as Phantom remained in the Justice League, J’onn had come to learn to appreciate the calm spot in the turbulent sea of his friends’ and coworkers’ thoughts.

“You have taken to me faster than the others. Why is that?”

Phantom hummed purringly, another peculiar sound that J’onn had yet to see any of his human or alien heroes recreate with any success. They sat at their usual spot, face facing the cosmos and backs guarded by their friends. Plus, J’onn and Phantom could look directly into the sun without painfully loosing their sight.

“I guess I’ve always been fond of the stars. Of space, and everything in it. What about you? Why did we become friends so fast?”

J’onn shook his head, a human motion he’d learned a long time ago to imitate. “No, we became slower friends than most, as my telepathic abilities allow for easier communication and understanding of one another’s motives. With the exception of Batman but I have found he is often the exception to most expectations.”

“That checks out,” King Phantom laughed. “Well, I’m glad we became friends. It’s very cool to meet a Martian. Space is one of my Obsessions, you see.”

J’onn nodded. “I see. I am sorry that I am the only Martian you will meet.”

“You are?”

J’onn nodded again, slower. Sadder. His facial muscles, in this form, does not imitate human patterns well and he knew that most people could not pick out his emotions without his verbal expression.

Intuition tells J’onn that Phantom knew regardless.

“Would you mind telling me what happened?” His voice is gentle, the emotions that Phantom pushes at him are gentle and questing, but not demanding. It has been a long time since anyone has asked him of memories he clung to. And so, J’onn J’onzz speaks in the way that was natural to him, the way his people communicated.

With his mental voice flowing into Phantom’s head, J’onn tells him of the wonders that used to be his home. He provided images and sounds of how his home shone as the sun rose, how the shadows that fell when the sun dipped beneath the horizon felt as comforting as a Martian’s first telepathic cradle. He tells Phantom of his twin brother, grief and agony entwined in the memories of someone he had loved. He spoke of his wife and their daughter, and their cozy home on the windswept plains of Mars.

King Phantom sat still with him as the Watch-Tower moved along, around a king and his friend who was recounting the stagnant grief of his past.

J’onn tells him of the virus, borne of his twin’s hatred, and how he watched everything around him burn. How he had desperately tried to prevent his wife and daughter from using their telepathic abilities. He spoke of his failures. He wove together a tapestry of insanity and grief, built upon the burning bodies of his wife and their beloved daughter. He tells Phantom how the Mars now was just ashes and dust of his former home. How he could not look upon the planet and not see the shades of his wife and daughter and parents and friends, walking upon a barren planet that no longer held anything familiar to the last Martian.

Phantom had hummed again, a soothing rumble. Sadness dripped from the edges of his consciousness.

“If it was not for the Doctor, I would be dead and shattered.” J’onn spoke for the first time in three hours. “It is… less painful to live. I have purpose.”

“I am glad that you are not either of those things.” Phantom stood. “Come with me. I have to show you something.”

J’onn trusted Phantom, and thus followed the king into the glowing green portal.

They flew past many doors, Phantom often glancing at him before shaking his head and changing directions.

They stopped at a door that felt familiar. J’onn knew it from somewhere.

“Go ahead, open the door. But know that you can’t stay long. You don’t belong to this realm quite yet. Not for quite a while.” Phantom moves, hand gesturing towards the door without a knob.

“How..?”

“How else? You have telekinesis, don’t you?”

J’onn blinked. Right. He opened the door and- oh.

The door warped with the screaming storm of grief and love and oh-how-I’ve-missed-you that J’onn unleashed.

Because there in front of him were M’yri’ah and K’hym, his wife and daughter.

The door was an imitation of his home, back when he had not known true loss.

“Impossible,” he stumbled back.

“You are in the realm of the dead. You didn’t think the title of the Ghost King was for fun, did you, J’onn?” Phantom smiled and- a move J’onn would definitely engage in petty payback for, later after he’d gotten over the shock- pushed him flying right into the room.

M’yri’ah and K’hym cradled him with telepathic swirls of love and husband!-dad!-love-love-love-safe!

And J’onn shuddered and gathered the his world in his arms to say goodbye.

——

[evilminji]

Okay but? We of the DPxDC? Are COMPLETELY Sleeping on DPXBNHA?

And not even for the Main Plot Shenanigans!

Just?? It has ALL of DC's super powers? But MORE OF THEM. And like 80% of the population has um! Danny can?? Finally achieve his DREAM of being???

JUST SOME DUDE™!

Yeah, he's in Japan. That's a bit of a learning curve. And YEAH, there was a cataclysmic war like a few centuries back that sorta... fucked everybody up. No one wants to talk about it. There may be mass graves and Never Forget memorials. But?

On the SURFACE!

This place seems utopian!

No ghost hunters! Advanced technology! Robust social services*!

Wait... what was that asterisk? What do you mean "corrupt shadowy government organizations"? What do you MEAN "Immortal Supervillians"? NO SPACE PROGRAM!?!? AaaaaAAAAAAAAAAH?!?!? I'M IN HELL!!! This is ACTUALLY THE BAD PLACE, THIS IS HELL, OH GOD NOOOOOOO-!!!!!!

Cause see?

There are SO MANY REASONS he'd end up there?

Think about it! Wish that he lived somewhere his weird biology wouldn't exclude him from becoming an astronaut? In Quirks having Bnha Japan EVERYBODY has weird biology! Y'ain't special! You could TOTALLY be an astronaut!..... if we HAD those! We do not. Shut down that program during the Quirk Wars and never really started it again. (And somewhere, Desiree LAUGHS)

Or MAYBE? Things are getting a little hot on the ground? Bit TOO spicy. The Family Fenton and Friends have fallen back, behind the barely holding shields. Not even the Mansons considerable political maneuvering could stop the inevitably of human fear and blind unthinking hatred. Money can't buy everything, in the end. There is only ONE(1) way out.

Through the Zone.

Plan: Strangers In A Strange World is a go.

They're all Limnal enough to fake it. Sam with her plants. Tucker with his technology and persuasion. Jazz with her limited empathy. Their parents with their... well, weirdness. And with a touch of ghostly assisted meddling? Well, they've always BEEN there! Haven't they?

And that's not to MENTION the random 4 year olds with no control! JUST coming into their powers! With all those big emotions in tiny bodies? Startling events and tantrums? Villian attacks? What could THEY possibly hope to do to control or guide that fresh new power? It does what it does and the rest of us are just along for the ride!

If Danny happens to be minding his business and gets accidentally kidnapped by a VERY distraught 4 year old? Well, that's hardly the KIDS fault, now is it? They're FOUR! That is basically a toddler! Tiny child! They are upset, confused, and didn't mean to do ANYTHING. He's a hero. And Heros don't blame little kids from accidents, no matter HOW stressed it makes them.

No, the curse like a sailor INSIDE their head. Like an ADULT.

Just? Imagine~☆

The slow transition from *starry eyed shoujo sparkles* "This is SO COOL~!" to "huh, that's... kinda weird. And Sus. Weird Sus. Maybe nothing... oh! A distraction!" To "okay, this KEEPS happening, that was shady. You all saw that right? You realize that's not NORMAL, right? That that's fucked up? Not cool?" To "oh god, oh God, OH GOD! I'm in HELL! This is actually HELL! I'm trapped in HELL!!! WHAT THE FUC-"

Like? This kid LOVES space. LOVES the stars. And this is one of the few Superhero Cannon that SPECIFICALLY MENTIONS that IN CANNON? Thanks to Quirks? As in Superpowers? That VERY THING got fuckin SCRAPPED. Gutted. Consigned to be a relic of the past so they could all focus on punching each other Real Good.

He would weep BLOOD. Chew the WALLS. The LEVEL of unhinged this child would unleash? Not as Danny Phantom... but as DANNY J. FENTON? Beautiful. Vaguely psychotic. Definitely doing the Fenton Name proud. God, the NOISE HE WOULD MAKE would be inhuman and yet somehow? Come entirely from his human half.

They👏 Would👏 Hear👏 BOSS👏 MUSIC👏

I don't even know if he'd CARE about the main characters. They'd be tangential at best. The man would be in a one man war with I-Island over their lack of space program and hoarding of scientific progress. Probably living out of an abandoned building or forgotten subway station. Just? The MOST bedraggled, feral genius to ever haunt Japan.

As opposed to the REFINED feral genius. Who is Nedzu.

I bet Danny stands outside his school at one AM waving his scientific papers at a camera and YELLS. Like a deranged lunatic. Mismatched slippers and a "haven't slept in a week" crazed glint in his eyes.

He's Nedzu's new best friend. They GET each other.

And, yes, Nedzu COULD let him in... but it's faster to just let him yell and read the papers through the camera. Who CARES if they both seem insane! Let's shout about advanced physics and engineering at 1 am! Over the speakers!!! Oh? You need to physically SHOW me the notes? Well I COULD unlock the gates... OR just wait for you to finish scrambling up the walls like a feral Racoon, to then throw yourself OVER them.

Either, Or.

I'm just SAYING! We are SLEEPING on this! There is so, SO much fun to be had! Danny breaks rules and minds! His outrage over injustice and the complete lack of SPACE! His protection instincts going BUCK FUCKIN WILD. The INDESCRIBABLE hate boner he would have for Mr. "Lemme just rip parts of your soul out so I can collect your powers like pokemon cards" AfO.

There? Is SO MUCH, guys. SO MUCH!

@hdgnj @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation

[missberrycake]

I’ve been thinking this morning about if Steve didn’t get back together with Nancy at the end of S1—I think there’s a lot of different ways that could go, but what if Steve ended up as one of Eddie’s lost little sheep?

Because even if Steve was popular enough to keep afloat in the choppy waters of high school, after his bust up with Tommy and Carole—and even when he’s seen talking with Nancy and Jonathan Byers of all people—he still doesn’t really have any true friends left. Sure, he has people he can chat to in class, but at lunch? After school? Nobody is really thinking about who ex-jock, ex-bully Steve Harrington is hanging around with. 

Perhaps he spends the rest of his junior year dreading lunch hour, because he knows he’s going to have to deploy some serious charm tactics—taking as long as he can in the queue, chatting to the students either side of him—and perhaps if he lingers long enough at one of the tables of his more social classmates, pretends he’s just catching up, carrying on a conversation from class, he can make it seem like it’s all still as easy as it was before. 

Sometimes, though, he doesn’t have the energy to pretend. On those days he’ll retreat quietly to his car and eat his lunch behind his wheel, wondering how different it might have been if he’d never gone back into the Byers’ house that day last fall.

It’s on one of those days that Eddie sees him. It’s not like Eddie hadn’t noticed him before, he’s always on the lookout, after all, and Steve Harrington is one of those people who always drew his eye. He’d seen him scouring the cafeteria while queueing up for his state-mandated mac ‘n’ cheese, searching for a space where he could fit. 

And, of course, he’d heard the whispers about Steve—that he’d punched Tommy H in the face, gotten his crown beaten from his head by Jonathan Byers (though he didn’t seem to hold a grudge). If there’s one thing to know about Eddie, it’s that he’s a bleeding heart, and so when he sees Steve sitting alone in his car, winter frost glittering against the metal, he lets out a heavy sigh and trundles over. 

“Hey, Harrington,” he says, pushing down a smirk when Steve jumps (he is easily startled these days, isn’t he?).

“Munson,” Steve replies with narrow eyes. He doesn’t trust Eddie yet, not entirely. 

“There’s more space in my van. If you wanted some company.”

Eddie leaves it like that, keeps it casual, knows that he might get it shoved right back in his face—expects it to be, even. And so he’s surprised at how quickly Steve nods back at him, a real smile breaking out on his face, if only for a moment, until Steve clears his throat and says, “Sure, yeah. That’d be cool, I guess.”

It’s the start of something big. A delicate balance where the two of them pretend that it’s not that important, but somehow they’re more honest with each other than they’ve ever been with anyone else. Steve tells Eddie all about how he doesn’t even really know who he is anymore, and in return Eddie shares just how worried he is that he knows exactly who he’s expected to be, and that he can’t change his fate even if he wanted to.

By the time the next school year starts, it’s well established with the school population that Steve Harrington has somehow landed himself with an honorary spot in the Hellfire Club. He doesn’t play—refuses to learn, even if it’s clear that he’d do pretty much anything else that Eddie Munson would ask of him—but he helps set up the meetings, sits with them at lunch, smiles stupidly whenever Eddie gets up onto the cafeteria tables to rant about the shallow-mindedness of his peers. 

And if Eddie’s diatribes are directed at the popular crowd with a little more venom than they used to be, and if he seems to take great pleasure whenever Tommy H, or Carole, or those posers on the basketball team frown and scoff and sneer at him, it’s no great secret to everyone else in the lunch hall exactly why. 

[Yeah, I'm scouring the archives and trying to salvage as many headcanons as I can from my old deleted account, but let's just pretend this is brand new content.]

[pomefioredove]

having a crush on you

summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy

he's slowly losing his mind about this

"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind

it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this

hasn't even really thought about it

so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance

and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell

he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"

(maybe a little too well)

but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed

he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs

so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it

in his head

and then does nothing about it for months

...what? he's busy

things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling

well... it doesn't pass

he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt

and you know what?

he is totally cool about it.

just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards

he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up

which again, just makes him crazy

(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)

I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!

there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate

is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...

the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad

he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him

and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves

just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one

(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)

while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you

you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping

you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!

your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it

he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always

but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone

the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else

when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself

why?

he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known

he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all

for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break

(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)

is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.

this is Rook we're talking about

on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute

he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling

seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...

definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room

along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over

(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)

you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often

or a few cans of tuna for Grim

all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference

except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day

Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling

though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy

Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey

and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you

he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much

second of all he's going to beg for a chance

maybe not in that exact order

Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal

not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy

suddenly he cares about looking nice

(much to Vil's approval)

and now he wants to do nice things for you?

he's gonna bite you

how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!

don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!

then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.

he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship

...yeah, right? right.

if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...

he might be okay with it!

obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you

starts making comments about how tough practice was on him

will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again

he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)

obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling

(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)

but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess

super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way

[hoshifighting]

hellooo I just want to say that I like your blog, I really like your writing style🫶🏻🫶🏻 AND

what do you think about Vernon finding the reader's twitter spam account? at first, without saying anything, he follows her from a fake account and learns her fetishes and things like that. then he can't hold back and teasing the reader because of this situation and does all the things she reposts, all she wants and imagines(I honestly can't decide whether they will be friends or lovers and I leave it to you)

thank you very much in advance🩷🩷🩷🩷

when vernon finds out about your freaky tweets

WARNINGS: smut, face slapping, BIG DICK!VERNON, cock riding, mentions of hair pulling, dirty talk, choking.

it starts innocently enough; you’ve got your little spam account, this place where you post anything that comes to mind without a second thought. it’s private, anonymous—you’re safe, or so you think. until one day, you start noticing a new follower, someone with zero posts and a random handle, lurking in the notifications. you brush it off, figuring it’s just some bot. but vernon… well, vernon's been piecing things together. and one night, after reading one of your latest posts—something so NASTY that practically burned his screen—he decides he can't just pretend he hasn’t seen it. so he waits until you’re in the living room next saturday, all comfortable, maybe a little too comfortable. you look up, seeing him standing there with that little frown he gets when he's too stressed to understand something, a raised eyebrow, and his phone in his hand.

“so… ‘i just want him to hold me down and—’” he reads aloud, and you feel everything in you freeze up as he raises an eyebrow at you. “‘then pull my hair back so i can see his face… maybe, idk, slap me around a little?’ really, y/n?”

you scramble, trying to play it cool “vernon—wait, why—where’d you see that?”

“oh, i dunno. i’ve been following this account for a while. figured i’d wait until you posted something really crazy before bringing it up.”

you stammer, face going hot. “i—you didn’t have to read it out loud like that, jesus.”

“oh, come on,” he says, leaning in, crowding your space just enough to make you feel cornered “you can post it, but i can’t say it?”

you swallow hard “i didn’t… i didn’t think you’d see it.”

“didn’t think i’d find out?” he echoes, voice dropping a little. “you know, all this time, i’ve been seeing these little things you like. i didn’t say anything because i thought you’d be embarrassed. but now…” he smirks, leaning back with a sigh, watching you. “now i think maybe i should give you some of what you’re so clearly craving.”

“vernon,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you like he’s imagining every filthy thing you’ve ever posted.

he smirks, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “oh, don’t go all shy on me now. i’ve read what you want. all of it. let’s start with the basics, huh?” his hand trails down, tipping your chin up, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “you wanna ride me? why didn’t you just say so?”

you feel your heart pounding as he pulls you closer, he's practically purring as he goes, “or that other thing you posted—what was it? something about choking you?” he wraps his hand lightly around your throat, thumb brushing over the sensitive skin as he watches your reaction. “like this?”

you almost cant nod, you're melting, your breath coming short as he tightens his grip just enough to make you feel it “so pretty when you’re horny,” he murmurs, fingers pressing just a little more.

and when you shake your head, he grins, pulling you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him as his hands settle on your hips “guess i’ve gotta make up for all those little fantasies you’ve been hiding, huh?”

“you sure you can handle it?” he whispers, leaning in, lips brushing against your neck. “’cause i don’t think you really knew what you were asking for when you posted all that.”

but you nod, he tilts your head up, lips brushing over yours, and you feel his hand come up, palm grazing over your cheek before he slaps you—just a little, just enough to make you gasp. he chuckles when you moan, liquefying on his lap, fingers tilting your face back to him.

[...]

he’s already watching you with a azy smirk, eyes rolling sliighty as you sink down onto him, your thighs trembling as you struggle to take all of him in. and god, he’s big. you knew he would be—you’d guessed it a dozen times in all those reckless tweets, wondering just how good it’d feel, but feeling it now, it’s like all that teasing turned on you, stretching you almost too much, and every inch you take feels like a challenge.

“aww, look at you,” he coos, his hands resting on your hips, fingers rubbing little circles into your skin as you try to ease down, taking him deeper, even though it’s making your breath catch, making you whimper and shake. “what happened, baby? i thought you said you could handle it.”

you bite your lip, cheeks burning, and he chuckles, leaning in closer, voice low and teasing. “or maybe you just wanted me to be big so you could talk all that shit on your little account,” he murmurs, running his thumb over your lip. “all those tweets you made, talking about wanting me to be, what—eight, nine inches?” he grins, watching the way you flush, the way your hands grip his shoulders to steady yourself. “think you got what you wished for, hm?”

“shut up,” you manage to whisper, but it’s so breathless, your body clenching around him, and he laughs, hands guiding you down just a bit further, his hips lifting just a little to meet you, that makes you gasp, makes you try to pull back, but he keeps you there, fingers firm on your hips.

“no, no, let’s see you take it,” he whispers, voice rough with that soft teasing. “come on, baby. don’t tell me this is too much. you wanted all of it, right?”

you nod, trying to adjust, but it’s almost too much fr, too thick, too deep, and he watches you with those hooded eyes, savoring every single whimper you make. “it’s okay,” he says softly, almost soothing as he leans up to kiss you, but you can hear that cocky lilt in his tone. “you’re doing so good. even if you can’t take all of it… god, you’re trying, huh?”

and he’s right there, brushing his lips over your cheek, murmuring sweet, filthy encouragements into your ear as you sink down a little more, taking just a bit more of him, even though your body’s practically begging for a break. “that’s it… there you go. so good, baby. i’m impressed,” he purrs, hands trailing up your back. “i didn’t think you’d take even this much.”

every time you pause, every time your breath catches, he’s right there, fingers digging into your hips, guiding you, helping you ride him “guess you really wanted to know..” he murmurs, grinning as he watches you struggle, your head falling back as you finally take just a little more, his hands pulling you down hard against him until you can feel every inch of him.

“there it is… that’s my girl,” he whispers, in asatisfied rasp, his eyes dark as he watches you ride him, just as you’d dreamed about, exactly as you’d hoped—only now it’s even better.

[odoraful]

𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

mini durin has been settling well in his new home in teyvat, but his strange disappearance one day sparks anxiety for you and wanderer

⟡ content: wanderer x gn!reader; established relationship; use of 'kuni' as wanderer's nickname; set approx. a month after the events of summertime scales and tales; mini durin appreciation !!; mild angst surrounding loss but ultimately comfort; hopefully not too ooc wanderer 🥺; 3.1k words

⟡ a/n: if i had a dollar for every time i wrote about waking up in the morning beside wanderer who wanted to stay in bed with you, i'd have two dollars which isn't a lot, but it's weird it happened twice

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Wanderer brought home a miniature dragon, you initially thought he had got roped into taking care of someone else’s companion. At your first introduction, it had zipped around the room, little wings flapping intensely, as Wanderer tried to scold it to settle down to not frighten you. Its excitable, curious energy compared to his perpetual indifference was a sight to behold. To your surprise, it was in fact a friend he had met on his surreal adventure in a storybook land. You could hardly believe it when Wanderer retold the details of his journey to you, but the proof was in the adorable little dragon sitting on the sofa between you.

Mini Durin, as he was named, quickly became settled into you and Wanderer’s home. You both had begun to include him in your routines, much to Wanderer's persistent denial at wanting to get closer to him as friends. One of Mini Durin’s favourite parts of the day was the mornings when he could wake you two up. He’d sit on your chest and nuzzle against your cheeks or eagerly pull away at the blankets with his mouth, leaving a less than pleased Wanderer each time. However, today you woke up without hearing the bubbly sound of his giggles and greetings.

Your eyes opened blearily. Strange… he’s not here, was all your unfocused mind could think.

“Kuni,” you whispered with a slight rasp, voice still finding itself in the morning.

Wanderer remained perfectly still. He slept on his side facing you, and always had his arm draped around your body. Shoulders, back, waist, anything that connected you to him. Whilst breathing wasn’t necessary for him, feeling the rhythm of your inhales and exhales helped lull him into slumber.

“Come on,” you cooed, “we can’t stay in bed for the whole day.”

You were met only by the room’s silence, and the involuntary twitch of Wanderer’s eyelid.

Wanting to get up, you carefully lifted his hand that laid across your waist. Your fingers grazed his own, and, ever so slowly, you tried to move it closer to his body.  Suddenly, his fingers interlocked with yours. Your eyes widened with surprise as he shuffled closer, filling in the space between you.

“So, you were awake!”

Wanderer’s eyes fluttered open, amusement swirling in his indigo gaze.

“You’re too lazy, you know that?” you said with a teasing lilt.

He sighed in response, pulling your hand closer to his chest. The warmth of your body radiated across his naturally cool skin.

“And you’re too talkative,” he drawled. “There are worse things in life than sleeping in.”

You couldn’t fault him there, but productivity would be thrown out the window if you both stayed like this.

“Mini Durin didn’t wake us up today,” you mentioned.

Wanderer shrugged, rolling onto his back.

“Maybe he’s finally learned some etiquette about interrupting other people’s sleep.”

He closed his eyes again, anticipating that you would do the same. Though, he should have known better that you wouldn’t bend to his will so easily. As his guard lowered, you wiggled out his grasp. As much as Wanderer tried to stop you by wrapping his hands around your waist, you were too quick. Now that you were out of bed, there was no point in him staying here as well. He groaned in defeat. Shortly after, a drowsy Wanderer followed you out.

“Durin, good morning!” you called out.

Morning light filtered in as you pulled the curtains open, tying them aside. You scanned the room, but still no sign of him.

“It’s time to eat,” Wanderer called as well. “Durin?” 

He disappeared into an adjoining room in search of his purple-winged friend.

At this point, Mini Durin would already be fluttering about helping you open windows or perching on the counter as he brewed tea. Wanderer frowned.

“Where’s Mini Durin?” he asked.

You furrowed your brows. “Have you checked the laundry basket? He might be hiding in there again.”

“Of course I checked,” he replied.

“Well, what about the closet–”

“Where we store our blankets and extra pillows in? I already did that too,” he tried to keep the snap in his voice at bay, running a hand through his hair.

It was incredibly rare to see Wanderer uneasy, which made the twinge of anxiety you heard as he spoke even more noticeable.

Though Mini Durin was fond of exploration, it was uncharacteristic of him to disappear without mentioning, even more so in the early mornings. He had to be here somewhere. Your shared home was small, so there were not many spaces where the dragon could be hidden.

You strode to the study room, the last area neither of you had searched. The window above the desk had been opened, the light curtain material swaying lazily with the breeze.

“Kuni, I think he might have flown out through here,” you said, tiptoeing to push the curtain aside.

As you peered out, you hoped he would be there, perhaps simply getting some fresh air. However, only the occasional person would walk by, either on their morning stroll or carrying bags from their market visit. Mini Durin was still nowhere to be found.

Wanderer scowled, approaching your side near the window. “He should know better than to just leave like that.”

“He couldn’t have gone too far,” you reassured, laying your feet back on the floor, “I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

“Alright?”  

You turned to your partner, startled by the sudden seething of his voice. Wanderer’s face was contorted in frustration, though he couldn’t meet your gaze.

“He barely knows Sumeru City,” he spat. “How can you say he’ll be alright?”

Mini Durin had accompanied the two of you outside, but only in covert ways. You couldn’t deny his point that the roads of the city were yet to be familiar to him.  

Wanderer was simmering with anger, a state he hardly wanted to show in front of you. He had become more accepting of other emotions—embarrassment when you caught him staring at you on a golden afternoon, amusement at your attempts to care for house plants that oftentimes wilted, even adoration when you brought cups of tea to help him through troublesome Akademiya assignments—though, as much as he wanted to diminish it, anger was the easiest to provoke. Especially when it could mask other, more fragile feelings. Sadness and fear, namely, being the culprits.

Though he had not outwardly admitted it since his time in Simulanka, Mini Durin had become a close friend. He saw too much of himself in the little dragon to not at least hold some fondness. Few could occupy the soft spot of the person with no heart, and yet Mini Durin had cosied his way in, much like you had. It was what made the thought of losing him even more painful.

You reached your hand out to steady him, placing it on his shoulder.

“Kuni, please–”

“We don’t even know what time he left!” he continued, seeming to not hear you speak. He paced to the middle of the room, shrugging off your hand. “He could have flown out hours before we woke up.”

Too many thoughts raced through his mind. He hated this. Hated the flurry of emotions he got swept in, like a single pilot navigating through an endless storm.

“And who knows what kind of crazy people might be out there thinking he’s some kind of bounty.”

His throat felt tight as the words clawed up their way up. Some miserable part of him expected you to be afraid of him. That this side of him, prone to temperamental outbursts, would be more than you could handle.

“I–” he began before groaning. Exasperated by his own anger, he ruffled his hair with his hand, “–didn’t mean to… yell like that to you...”

He needed to think. Where would Mini Durin try to go first? Surely the Akademiya. Wanderer had taken him there many times, hidden away in his bags or garments. Mini Durin would probably want to satisfy his curiosity by exploring there himself. The Akademiya didn’t have too many floors, but it was an expansive building. If he left now, then–

Wanderer was jolted from his spiral of thoughts as he felt two hands press against the sides of his face, squishing his cheeks slightly.

“What are you doing!?” he spluttered, holding onto your wrists in shock.

“I’m calming you down,” you said, firmly.  

He was forced to look at you, confronted by the concern in your eyes.

Incredibly, the combination of your touch and voice did slow his racing mind. It was a break in the storm. That sliver of light that guided him towards safer skies.

“I am calm,” he asserted.

You gave him a skeptical look, brows raised. Wanderer clicked his tongue, knowing that his own statement was far from the truth.

You sighed.

Wanderer never spoke of his past, preferring it to stay left behind rather than exist in the present. Even so, you could make your own deductions. You sensed that sudden disappearances of those he cared about may be all too familiar to him. Your heart ached at the very thought.

“It’s alright to be frightened,” you said, gently. “It just shows how much Mini Durin means to you.”

“Frightened? I’m not…” his denial dried up in his throat, as too did his temper.

“But Mini Durin isn’t reckless. A little naïve, sure, but he would never put himself in danger like that,” you reasoned.

Tension released from his body at your consolations. Archons, he cursed. He was not one to be easily placated, but your voice and words managed to soothe him so quickly. You were a complement to his vitriol—understanding the world’s harshness yet maintaining a forgiveness he had yet to figure out.

He guided your hands down from his face, holding them loosely in his lap.

“You’re incomprehensible,” he muttered under his breath.  

With a shallow tease like that, you knew his spirits had somewhat returned to him.  

“We’ll find him together, okay?” you lightly rubbed his hand with your thumb. “No matter what.”

He nodded, his thoughts clearing with each gently circle you placed on his skin. “We should look around the street first and then head to the Akademiya. I wouldn’t put it pass him to want to explore that building on his own.”

Both in agreement, you two quickly changed out of your night clothes and headed out of your home. Walking down the street together, you knocked on the doors of your neighbours and approached those who were passing by, asking if they had seen a small purple dragon. However, you received no such clue as to his whereabouts. You prickled with anxiety with each shrug of shoulders and shake of people’s head. Maybe Mini Durin had flown out for longer than you anticipated.  

You reached the last home on the street, knowing the owner to be a kind old woman named Noor who lived by herself. Wanderer tapped on the door.

A voice called out, though it did not sound like an elderly woman at all.

“Coming!”

The door swung open. Standing at the threshold before you were two familiar figures.  

“Mini Durin!” you cried out with a gasp.

Seeing him at his neighbour’s home and not somewhere more dire filled Wanderer with inexplicable amounts of relief. His arms moved before he could even think. He yanked the little dragon into his arms and pressed him against his chest. Tucking his chin over his horned head, Wanderer sighed a sound of something between relief and annoyance. You rushed to wrap your arms around him as well, joining in on this tight hug.

“Oh! H-hello you two!” was all Mini Durin could reply, voice muffled by Wanderer’s garments.

The casualness of his tone certainly contrasted against yours and Wanderer’s panic over his disappearance. He was confused by the overwhelming concern you both displayed, and, particularly, the sudden physical affection by his friends.

Despite the gentleness in the way he held Mini Durin, Wanderer’s voice was still harsh as he scolded, “What are you doing here!?”

The purple dragon pushed his head out from Wanderer’s grasp, needing to get more air to speak.

“Well, I was just stretching my wings out in the morning, when I heard a THUD outside,” he replied, adding an extra emphasis on the sound effect. “I looked out the window and saw granny struggling with her grocery bags! I couldn’t just leave her, so I went out to help.”

You looked over at Noor standing at the door, walking stick in hand and a warm smile on her face.

“The young Wanderer and Y/N!” she crooned, “What a pleasure it is to see you.”

“Good morning, Noor,” you greeted with a fluster. “Sorry for all the commotion, we’re just happy to see our friend.”

Noor gazed fondly at the trio.

“Ah, is this little one with you two? “I should’ve known someone as kind as him would be acquainted with you.”

You moved to Noor’s side, supporting her arm as she shuffled towards Wanderer, Mini Durin still in his arms.

“I thought this small one wouldn’t be able to manage, but he swooped in and carried some of my bags in his mouth and flew all the way down this street!” she recounted with a hearty laugh.

As much as Wanderer didn’t want to react, the corners of his mouth twitched. Your expression was much less hidden as you burst into a grin. A tiny dragon carrying bags triple his size was certainly a comical image.

Noor leaned in closer to Mini Durin, patting him on the head. “Thank you, little purple one. It would have taken me double the time to get home without your assistance.”

Mini Durin lifted his chin proudly. “No problem, granny! I’m strong and fast enough to carry anything.”

Wanderer rolled his eyes and scoffed at that bold claim. He turned his attention to Noor, bowing his head.

“Thank you for looking after him,” Wanderer said.

There was sincerity in his voice that she didn’t think he was capable of. She nodded thoughtfully. It took little to judge that the prickly, young scholar had made a true friend.

“It was my pleasure,” she chuckled. “I’ll let you three go, but you’re always welcome to visit my home whenever you’d like.”

Mini Durin broke free from Wanderer’s arms, nuzzling Noor on the cheek which she happily received. The three of you waved goodbye, waiting until Noor shut her door before walking away.

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The morning sun had risen past the green tiled roofs of the houses lining the street, basking everything in a yellow glow. Mini Durin flew gently next to Wanderer, still quite happy about his earlier act of heroism.

Walking side-by-side, Wanderer wordlessly drifted closer to you. Your hands grazed each other, and you noticed his skin was warmer now to the touch. You turned towards him curiously. For a split second, his eyes flicked to the side towards you, before returning to gaze straight ahead of him. It would easily have been interpreted as a reflexive movement if not for the pink that bloomed across his porcelain skin. You bit back a smile, understanding your partner’s subtle shows of gratitude.

Wanderer knew if he properly turned to you, he’d see that silly, doting look on your face and he did not want to lose his composure this early in the day. Instead, he looked over at Mini Durin.

“You left the house without any warning to follow someone you barely know?” he huffed. “You’re too careless for someone whose been here for less than a month.”

“That’s Kuni-speak for: I was really worried about you,” you mock whispered.

Wanderer shot a glare at you for admitting that, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Mini Durin, prepared to defend himself for helping a citizen in need, brightened. His round, innocent eyes seemed to sparkle in the morning light.

“You were worried about me?” he asked, zipping in front of you, “Truly?”

He hovered in front of you two, wings flapping in excitement, stopping both of you in your tracks.

“Of course we were!” you exclaimed. “You’re our friend. We wanted to make sure nothing bad had happened.”

Mini Durin’s little heart soared hearing you say that word: friend. He looked expectantly at Wanderer.

Wanderer stared at the anticipation in the purple dragon’s expression. He realized at that moment that there was a trend of surrounding himself with somewhat bright-eyed individuals.

“Yeah, yeah, I was worried too…” he mumbled, darting his eyes away. In a louder voice he moved the topic along with a wave of his hand, “Now, let’s all go home so I can get on with my morning.”

He walked briskly down the street, ahead of you and Mini Durin.

You and Mini Durin looked at each other for a beat before bursting into giggles. Too focused on each other’s amusement, you didn’t see Wanderer turn around to observe the two of you.

He thought it would take many, many lifetimes for him to feel this way. The world seemed too cruel to give out such warmth, and yet, there were the two of before him, a bubbly mess in the middle of the street. Contrary to what many would believe, he found himself not hating this feeling. If he remembered correctly, content was what it was named.

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The next morning, just like he had always done before, Mini Durin creaked open the door to your bedroom and flew inside. Landing on the blankets, he saw the two of you in a tangled mess. Notably, Wanderer locking you in his arms.

“Good morning!” he chirped, stretching out his wings. “Come on, it’s time to get ready for the day!”

You both shifted in your sleep, slowly coming into consciousness at his wake-up call. Unexpectedly, Wanderer lifted a tired hand at Mini Durin, gesturing him to come closer.

Mini Durin cocked his head to the side in confusion. Typically, his good friend would groan and complain before begrudgingly getting out of bed. He flew closer.

“Huh? Is there something–”

With a loud exclamation, Mini Durin was swept by Wanderer’s grasp. Before he knew it, he was snuggled underneath the blankets between you and Wanderer.

“Hey! You tricked me!” he said, trying to keep his tone hushed being so close to each of your ears.

He was met only by a cheeky smile from Wanderer and a quiet laugh from you. Wanderer patted Mini Durin’s head before speaking softly,

“It’s good to see you here.”

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[itneverendshere]

rafe watching milo for the first time by himself. he probably woke up from his nap early while you’re in the shower . but it’s so cute to see rafe with him

this was so adorable to write😩 love writing little fluff moments for them 💘 thank you for the request! hope you like it🫂

don't you ever grow up just stay this little - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe wasn’t the type of guy you’d expect to be spending his Saturday babysitting. And yet, there he was, sitting in the living room of your sister’s place, half-watching TV, half-watching the clock while you took a shower upstairs.

The plan was simple: you’d help your sister out by watching Milo while she worked her double shift, and he’d stick around because, well, he was practically glued to your side these days.

Milo was cool, though. For a little dude. He was into dinosaurs and trucks and had this way of talking about everything like it was the most important thing in the world. Rafe liked that energy.

Reminded him of when things were simpler, before his life became one long list of bad choices.

He glanced at his phone, checking the time. You said your shower would be quick, but it had been a little longer than that. He shrugged it off; you deserved a break. Plus, Milo was still down for his nap, and Rafe wasn’t about to wake him up early. He knew better than to mess with a sleeping kid—learned that lesson fast the first time he’d stayed over officially and Milo had woken up at 5 a.m., screaming about monsters. The sound of the shower running upstairs was the only noise in the house as he flipped through the channels, half-watching some random show.

Milo had been asleep for a solid hour, and he’d figured there’d be no problem keeping an eye on the kid while you got cleaned up. Easy enough.

He leaned back into the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. He was about to settle on some mindless reality show when he heard a soft creak from the hallway. He sat up, eyes moving toward the sound. The door to Milo’s room was cracked open, and a tiny figure stood there, rubbing his eyes, clutching a stuffed dinosaur. The kid looked half-asleep still, his hair sticking up in all directions.

“Hey, bud,” Rafe said, keeping his voice low so he didn’t startle him. He got up from the couch and took a step toward Milo, but stopped when the kid blinked up at him, confused.

“Autie in the shower?” Milo asked, his voice all groggy, like he wasn’t fully awake yet.

His bottom lip poked out, and Rafe could tell he was on the edge of either crying or just being pissed about being awake. It was a fifty-fifty shot with kids this age, right? At least that’s what he figured.

“Yeah,” Rafe replied, crouching down so he was on Milo’s level. “She’ll be down soon, don’t worry. You wanna sit with me until she’s done?”

The kid shrugged, his grip tightening on his dinosaur. Without another word, he waddled over to the couch and climbed up, his little legs struggling to make it without help. Rafe sat down beside him, giving him some space because you know, kids were weird about personal bubbles and shit, but keeping an eye on him just in case he decided to get all emotional.

Kids were unpredictable like that—one second, they’re fine, the next, they’re melting down over something random.

They watched the TV in silence for a minute, some kind of animal documentary playing now. He glanced over at Milo, who was wide-eyed as a lion chased down a gazelle.

“That’s crazy, huh?” Rafe said, nodding at the screen. “That lion’s fast.”

Milo nodded, still watching the screen with intense concentration. “Lions are kings,” he whispered, clutching his dino tighter. “But T-rexes were kings too.”

“Yeah? You think a T-rex could beat a lion?”

Milo turned to look at him like he’d just asked the dumbest question in the world. “Course! T-rexes are the strongest. Lions are just cats.”

Rafe laughed under his breath. “Fair point.”

He was something else. Fiercely opinionated and convinced of everything he said, even if it didn’t make sense. Halfway through a scene where a shark was doing its thing, Milo scooted a little closer, almost absentmindedly, and leaned into Rafe’s side. The kid didn’t say anything, just rested his head against him like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He froze for a second, not sure what to do. He wasn’t used to this. But then, instinct took over, and he relaxed, resting his arm on the back of the couch, careful not to make it weird. He could hear your voice in his head: "Just go with it, baby. Don’t overthink it."

So, he didn’t.

They stayed like that for a bit, the quiet sound of the TV and Milo’s soft breathing filling the room. Rafe wasn’t gonna lie—he kind of liked the weight of the kid leaning into him. It was...nice. Calming, even. He’d never thought of himself as the kind of guy who’d be good with kids, but Milo didn’t seem to mind him. Maybe he wasn’t as terrible at this as he thought.

“So, uh… that’s a pretty cool dinosaur,” Rafe said after a while, nodding toward the toy in Milo’s hands. He was trying to make conversation, but he wasn’t exactly sure what you talked about with a child.

Milo perked up slightly, looking down at his stuffed dino. “This is Rexy,” he said, his voice soft but a little more awake now. “He’s the strongest dinosaur. He eats meat.”

“Rexy, huh?” Rafe smirked. “Yeah, T-rexes were pretty badass. What else you know about ‘em?”

Milo's eyes lit up at the question, and Rafe knew he’d hit the jackpot. The kid went off on a whole tangent about dinosaurs, talking a mile a minute about everything from their teeth to their tails to how they fought each other. Rafe found himself listening, actually getting into it. It was kinda funny how into this stuff Milo was, rattling off facts like he’d spent years researching dinosaurs instead of being, you know, practically a fetus.

As they kept talking, he noticed that Milo was slowly waking up more, his energy coming back. He started squirming in his seat, clearly not content to just sit still anymore. Rafe figured it was only a matter of time before he’d want to get up and do something more active.

“Hey, you wanna play with your trucks or something?” Rafe asked, gesturing toward a pile of toys on the floor by the coffee table.

Milo’s face lit up. “Yeah!” he said, hopping off the couch without hesitation. He darted over to the pile, grabbing a couple of toy trucks and zooming them across the floor like his life depended on it.

He watched him for a second, then got up and sat on the floor beside him, not really sure what he was supposed to do but figuring he should at least pretend to play along.

Milo handed him a bright red fire truck. “You be the firefighter,” he said, very serious about it.

Rafe took the truck and rolled it across the floor, mimicking the sound of a siren. “Alright, I’m the firefighter. What am I supposed to do?”

Milo grabbed a dump truck and rammed it into a pile of blocks he’d built earlier. “You gotta save the cars! They’re stuck in the mud!”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “Mud?”

“Yeah, like quicksand mud,” Milo said, clearly making this up as he went along.

Rafe played along, pushing the fire truck toward the pile of blocks, doing his best to sound heroic. “I’ll save the cars.”

Milo giggled, clearly entertained by the whole thing. He couldn’t help but smile a little, too. It was stupid, but there was something fun about just letting go and playing make-believe for a minute. He hadn’t done something like this since he was a kid himself, and, honestly, he’d forgotten how much fun it could be.

They kept playing for a while, Rafe getting more into it as Milo directed the whole operation, barking out orders like a little drill sergeant. At some point, he ended up being both the firefighter and the dump truck driver, while Milo decided he was in charge of the bulldozer that was “fixing the road.”

“Alright, we gotta clear this mud,” Rafe said, pushing his fire truck through the blocks again.

“No! Wait!” Milo interrupted, holding up his hands dramatically. “The T-rex is coming!”

Rafe blinked. “The T-rex? I thought we were saving cars?”

Milo shook his head, eyes wide. “No, now we’re fighting the T-rex! He’s coming to eat the cars!”

He chuckled under his breath but didn’t argue. “Okay, if you say so.”

Just as the two of them prepared for their imaginary battle with the T-rex, you finally made your way downstairs, your hair damp from the shower and a soft smile on your face when you spotted the two of them on the floor. Rafe glanced up at you, feeling a little caught, but you just smiled wider, eyes glimmering with that look you always gave him when you thought he was being sweet, even if he was trying to act like he was a tough guy.

“Looks like you boys are having fun,” you teased, leaning against the doorway.

Rafe glanced up at you, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, we’re, uh... saving cars from mud. And dinosaurs. Apparently.”

Milo joined, grinning. “Auntie! Rafey’s the firefighter! He’s really good at it!”

You laughed softly, clearly enjoying the sight of your boyfriend— brooding Rafe Cameron—playing trucks with your nephew. “I see that,” you said, sitting down on the couch and watching them.

He stood up, brushing off his jeans like he hadn’t just spent the last half hour pushing toy trucks around. “Don’t get used to it.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, I won’t. I’m sure this is a one-time thing.”

Milo looked up at Rafe, clearly not ready for the game to end. “Can we play more, Rafey? Please?”

He sighed, looking at you for help, but you just shrugged, clearly amused by the whole situation.

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Rafe muttered, sitting back down on the floor. “But next time, I’m picking the game.“

“Can we go to the park tomorrow?”

He sighed, not having the heart to shut the kid out, “Fine.”

You leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “You’re doing great, baby.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, but deep down, he didn’t mind. Not really. Because, yeah, maybe this wasn’t what he’d imagined doing with his Saturday. But being here with you and Milo? It felt... good.

He sat there, watching Milo zoom his trucks across the floor with intense focus, and yeah, he was in it now. It was weirdly nice, playing along, even if he had no clue what he was doing half the time. But then, as he glanced up at you sitting on the couch, grinning like you were watching the best show in town, something hit him.

He’d go to the end of the world for you.

He leaned back on his hands, eyes flicking up to meet yours. You gave him a sweet smile, one of those looks that told him you were proud of him—proud of this version of him. He'd done a lot of stupid shit in his life, but being here, with you? That didn’t feel like one of them.

He smirked, letting out a low chuckle. “You keep lookin’ at me like that,” he teased, his voice dropping just enough to make you pay attention, “and ’m gonna give you a baby of your own.”

Your eyes widened a little in surprise, and you laughed, shaking your head. “Rafe,” you tried to scold him, but he could see the way your cheeks flushed, and he knew he’d hit the spot.

“What?” he shrugged, his grin widening. “I’m serious.” He gave Milo a quick glance before his eyes settled back on you. “You look at me like that, and I start thinkin’ about it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face didn’t fade. “You can’t just say stuff like that while you’re babysitting.”

 “Why not? You think I wouldn’t make a good dad?” There was a playful glint in his eyes, but there was something real underneath it too. He didn’t have to spell it out. You knew about his dad—about how Rafe had grown up in the shadow of someone who cared more about money and power than being a dad.

You bit your lip, glancing at Milo, who was too absorbed in his trucks to notice, then back at him. “I think you’d surprise yourself.” You reached out, gently brushing your fingers along his arm.

 “Yeah,” he murmured, more to himself than you. “I think so too.”

[ramp-it-up]

Mood

Summary: You and Steve were “special” friends. Until something that happens on one of your training missions puts Steve into a mood.

Word count: 2.7K

Pairing: Early CATWS era Captain Steve Rogers x SHEILD Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta’d. Read at your own risk. S MUT! Early CATWS Steve, talk of hurt, ambush, implied assualt. Angsty, moody Steve, Steve with the urge to kill for you, possessive Steve, Steve pining for reader, idiots in love, Dom Steve, fuck buddies to relationship, fluff, Captain and Sir kink, dirty talk, edging (but not quite), begging, body worship, nipple play, raw p in v, female receiving oral, emotional sex.

A/N: This can be seen as adjacent to the fic Call Me Captain When I..., but can be read as a stand alone. I was in a mood when I wrote it, so here we are.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

NOTICE: I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

After you checked yourself out of the hospital against doctor’s orders, Steve Rogers steamed as he waited for you to get out of the shower. He wanted to be in there with you, but decided to give you some space, and give him some time to cool down.

The fact that you were standing at the visitor’s entrance, in your hospital gown and combat boots as he drove up to sit with you, was the latest thing to get him riled up.

When he saw you, he parked in the fire lane and got out of his car, hands on his hips as he questioned you.

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

He eyed the bandage on your forehead and the one on your cheek, fingers trembling as he brushed his thumb over your bruised face.

The rage had not subsided for him over the past three days. 

Even after he and Sam beat the medivac to the scene and transported you to the best ER in the area.

Even after he was assured that you were ok by the doctors at the hospital. 

Even after you protested that he was overreacting when he set up a security detail at your door headed by Sam. 

Even after he’d found who did this to you and… well, seeing you bruised countenance again reignited his emotions.

He wondered how you got around Sam who was posted up. But then, your cunning and skill was a big part of how he felt about you. So was your kindness, intelligence, and beauty.

But you didn’t know exactly how Steve felt about you. And perhaps he didn’t either. Until you were ambushed on a routine training mission with your troops.

You lifted your chin and squared your shoulders as Steve shook his head. 

“I’m fine, Captain. I want to go home. I’ve been in the hospital for four days. And on the training mission for 10 days before that. I was due to be discharged in the morning anyway.”

You looked up at Steve. He couldn’t resist those eyes.

“I want to rot on my couch, sleep in my own bed.”

Steve grunted his assent, although the thin line of his lips indicated his displeasure with you.

“How’s your head feel?”

You met his eyes and focused, if only to prove how healthy you were.

“I’m fine, Steve. I just want to go home.”

Steve stared at you, wanting to just take you into his arms, but not doing it. Then, he stared around the parking lot, scanning the perimeter for anyone watching.

“Get in.”

He moved next to you and picked up the plastic bag that had your belongings in it, and put his hand on your back to guide you toward the sportscar.

“But my ride...”

Steve looked down at you as his jaw clenched, the blue fire in his eyes threatening to burn you.

“Get in before I take you over to that bench and spank the hell out of you, Lieutenant.”

You swallowed a gasp and grew warm at the threat.

“Yes Sir.”

You climbed into the passenger seat and sat back as Steve buckled you in, then waved at Sam, who’d come running out of the hospital just as Steve drove away.

You were along for the ride of this mood of your superior, friend, and fuck buddy Captain America, Steve Rogers.

—-

You stood before Steve, wrapped up in your soft, fluffy white robe that he had put into the dryer to warm up and left on the hook on the door of the shower. It was such a sweet gesture that contrasted his cold, harsh demeanor on the way to your place.

You felt as if you were about to be punished, but you didn’t care. You were exhausted. And just a little bit spooked. But that last part was lessened, because Steve was with you here in your quarters. You looked at him, wanting to ask him to stay, but you didn’t.

Steve stalked toward you, and you noticed that he was barefoot, which seemed to indicate that he wasn’t going anywhere soon. You smiled as you dragged your weary eyes up to his face. You decided to go for it.

“Are you staying?”

Steve grunted at you again.

“Just try and get me to leave you alone.”

His deep bass rumbled through you, and you whimpered, despite the fact that he wasn’t even touching you. Something seemed off as he moved toward you, pulling you closer by the tie on your robe.

“I’ve been riding on the edge of insanity ever since that day.”

Steve’s hand was in your hair, gently massaging the exposed scalp between your braids as his eyes took careful stock of your face.

You were shook.

“I’m okay, Steve.”

“I’ve got to see for myself.”

All he wanted to do was to take inventory of you, his rough fingers moving over every inch of your naked body to make sure that every bit of you was okay. He’d almost lost you and was experiencing an almost feral urge to consume you. You could feel the guilt radiating off him.

“Steve. No one could have known. Shit, I’m head of intelligence and I didn’t know.…”

Steve put his finger to his lips, and then yours. He gently stroked your cheek as he kissed you tenderly, carefully.

“Why do you always taste so good? Like you smell. Like sweet coconut…”

He leaned in to kiss you again, groaning as every gentle stroke of his tongue was met with a bolder one of yours. The passion increased until he pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours. You could tell that he was holding back. 

What was wrong with him?

“I know that no one could have known that the mission was a trap. But I feel like I should have.”

His hands moved from your neck, to your torso, down your belly, to the juncture of your thighs. He was sitting on your bed as you stood before him, warmed by the shower, but goosebumps raised on your flesh and your nipples formed into tight peaks as he examined you.

“I’ve never felt the urge to kill as much as I did when I tracked them down. It only took a day and a half to find them, and then a day and a half to get close enough to… “

Steve stopped short of revealing what happened to the people who hurt you and just looked into your eyes. The fury you saw as he looked up at you was chilling, yet arousing. You wanted to ask what he did to them, but you couldn’t. You just looked at his hands to find evidence that you knew wouldn’t be there because of his super soldier healing.

“Steve?”

He didn’t respond to you, just continued to stare at your most intimate parts.

“Captain-”

He looked up at you then.

“What I said at the hospital earlier. I-I have a serious desire to give you a good and proper spanking for almost losing your life, although it wasn’t your fault.”

You started to laugh, but he was serious. The look in his eyes was unlike anything you’d ever seen before.

“I can’t give you up. I can’t.”

You shook your head.

“Steve, I’m fine-”

He pulled you to him by your thighs, his large hands grabbing you, gently but firmly, and bringing your crotch close to his mouth. He looked back up at you.

“I know we’ve never talked about this, but…You are my anchor.”

You ran your hands through his hair as his breath tickled your clit.

“I had the barest control while Sam and I were flying to get you, and only a small bit more when I learned you were okay. And now I have to verify that you are ‘fine,’ as you say. I need to see it with my own eyes, feel it with my own hands, taste it ….”

The unspoken part of that statement caused you to shudder as he went back to examining you, His hands moving down your legs, while listening for any sounds of discomfort from you as his skin slid along yours with a gentle but firm pressure, then standing up and depositing you on the bed as he examined you to the soles of your feet.

He placed one of your feet on his pelvis, next to what you’d discovered was his rock hard cock housed in his jeans, and one foot in his hand, beginning to massage it. Steve knew how a sensual foot massage made you wet. He grunted in response to your whimpers, but only turned you over as he examined the back of you.

Steve palmed the globes of your ass and pulled them apart, and you could feel his eyes at the crease of you for a full minute. Then, his palms slid upwards to your spine, smoothing over each vertebrae as he moved up to the back of your neck.

He was on the bed now, between your legs, and pulled your hips up to meet him as he gently circled your neck with his fingers, bringing you up slightly as his other hand rolled and pinched your stiff nipples. 

“How do you feel?”

His gruff whisper, full of need and at the shell of your ear elicited a groan and caused you to roll your hips on his rock-hard erection.

“Steve.. I… Please!”

You incoherently pleaded for more as you moved against the stiff fabric of his jeans, making a mess there. Steve looked down and rolled his eyes, his hand rubbing your ass as his palm itched to smack it.

“Mmmmmm. You have no idea how much I want to give you this cock. But you need rest.”

You reached back and slapped your own ass, pulling on your asscheek to enable him to push deeper between your legs to feel how wet you were.

“We also need to talk…”

Steve shuddered at the sensation of you rutting against him, and with every gasp and moan from you his control was dwindling. 

“I need it Sir. Please, Captain…”

“Fuck. Maybe just one orgasm. Then you can rest.”

You leaned down to give him that arch and he licked his lips. His cock was in full control of him now.

“Best idea ever, Captain.”

His hand moved to your core, and his fingers were instantly soaked with your arousal.

“Jesus. Looks so good.”

Steve’s dick throbbed and he gritted his teeth against the wave of lust, yet he stood up and took off his own clothes. He watched your empty pussy clench around air and he had to taste it. The minute his lips were wrapped around your clit from behind was the moment you started keening for him.

“God, yes….right… fucking…right there!”

Steve carefully inserted a finger into your cunt as he suckled your clit, trying to be gentle. You bit your lip as he pulled off and started to withdraw his finger slowly.

“So soft for me. But so tight.”

He watched your face as he added another digit, causing your eyes to squeeze shut and your mouth to hinge open as you worked your hips on his hand for some relief.

Your eyes popped open and you blinked rapidly, but he didn’t speed up to the insistence of your hips. When he curved his fingers and found that bundle of nerves inside, pressing gently, you broke apart as he stroked over and over again.

 "I–God. I'm going…" 

You bowed your body, and Steve watched in awe while your pussy clamped around his fingers.

“Oh yeah. This was what I needed to see. Give it to me.”

Steve rolled his thumb over your clit to extend your orgasm. You open and completely out of control, with no thought of hurt or danger, was the sight that he loved.

 And he wanted to make you do it again and again.

“Jesus, you are beautiful. I want to...” 

He was fisting his cock and watching your wet, creamy folds as he squeezed your ass for a better view.

“Want more. Please!” 

“Hmmph,” He grunted. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

You leaned over again and presented yourself to him, giving him a view of your fingers working your clit and sliding inside yourself. 

“Fuck me, Captain. Please…”

Steve actually whimpered. His cock was drawn to you magnetically.

“Are you sure…?”

“Need it.” 

Steve cupped your ass harder and guided his cock to your slick, heated cunt and groaned.

“Oh shit. You fucking own me.” 

Your eyes widened in shock, and then you looked over your shoulder, locking onto his gaze. You relaxed, causing Steve to sink deeper inside you. You both hissed and Steve’s eyes closed. 

“I’m never leaving. Could stay inside you forever. Wanna see that beautiful face.”

Steve grabbed your leg and shifted you down and around, maneuvering you onto your back. His eyes raked up and down your form as his hands found your hips and drew you closer to him and his cock deep inside you again. He leaned down and captured your lips in a heated kiss as you arched your chest against his. 

You dug your nails into his shoulders, his name a chanted mantra between kisses. With each slide and retreat of his stiff cock in your slick channel, both of your groans got louder. Steve’s gaze occasionally dipped to where you were joined, watching his cock slide in and out of you. You arched your back again, and he dipped his head to draw one of your nipples into his mouth. 

"I. Yes. Harder. Oh God. Oh my God." 

Against your nipple he muttered, "Let me hear you. So good.”

But he didn’t fuck you harder like you asked. Your response was to tug on his hair, and Steve chuckled around the flesh of your breast. 

“I love the sounds you make.”

You moaned loudly, very wet now and very frustrated. The sound of the slick squelching of your act was such sinful music. Steve groaned, his jaw ticked tight from holding back.

“Please!”

But Steve just continued at the same languid pace.

“Later, when you’ve rested, I have plans for these babies,” Steve flattened his tongue and licked around both areolas. 

“Gonna lick, bite, kiss, fuck them. Be rough.”

You shuddered as he leaned up and blew on them, causing your nipples to draw up into hard peaks again and your pussy to shudder around him. Steve leaned up and stared at your breasts as they bounced with each thrust and he shook his head as his pace faltered. You clenched around him again and he spoke, his voice broken.

“I know you’re close. Feel so good around me.”

Steve looked into your eyes as he snapped his hips, and your mouth went wide again as he worked his hand between you and found your sensitive clit. 

Your eyes crossed as your slick walls clamped around his cock and milked him. 

"That's it. Cum for me. I'm so addicted to the sight." 

With three more pumps, Steve was coming apart, his control falling away. Another orgasm rolled through you and you tightened around him once more, causing a groan from Steve as you rode out the wave. 

“Holy fuck.” 

He kissed you again, licking into your mouth as he continued to thumb your clit. Good Lord, it was impossible to think at all when he did that. You were a whimpering mess as you begged him again.

“Please Captain. Give me your cum, Sir. Cum inside me.”

Steve buried his head in your shoulder as he sped up incrementally, his cursing muffled against your skin. You rolled your hips to meet him, making him groan again. You turned your head to bite, then whisper in his ear.

“I’m gonna cum on your thick cock again. Just fuck me. A little harder. Just three more pumps and I’m there. Pretty please, Sir.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist as Steve finally let go and gave you three hard, deep pumps, but as you predicted, he could not stop there.

Steve cursed and fucked you hard, stroking at the devil’s pace for at least a dozen more times, roaring as you stiffened and clamped down on his cock as you came.

“G-g-g-geeez! Fuck!”

Steve was a drooling, practically sobbing mess as the forcefull spray of his cum shot against your cervix, so much so that it leaked out almost immediately. Steve stopped and watched the sight, gasping, mouth open. Then, he looked back up at you.

“Everything about you, about us is so damn perfect. Especially this. We almost lost it. I love you, Libby.”

Your heart surged with emotion, finally understanding what had gotten into him.

“I love you too, Steve.”

You smiled and wiped the tears that were forming at the corner of Steve’s eyes as he softened inside you. 

“Shhhhh. Steve. It’s okay. I’m okay. Let’s take this one day at a time. Right now, we both need to sleep. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Steve nodded and sank down into your arms as you held onto your super soldier and rocked both of you to sleep.

——

If you liked it, hit Reblog! 😊

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Finish Line || LS2

Summary: A farewell fic to Logan because I'm a sookie and miss him already. Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader (living in America) WC: 4k

Summer Break 2021

Your mother always said, “Nothing good is easy and nothing easy is good.” To an eighteen year old fresh out of high school you thought she was referring to studying and exam results, not the more impactful experiences you would face once the red brick walls were left in the rear view mirror. 

It would only take a matter of weeks to learn the real meaning.

Loving Logan wasn’t easy but it was impossible to stop the feeling of falling that came soon after meeting him. From the moment you met there was an indescribable connection but the paths of your future were heading in completely different directions and you knew at the end of summer you would say your goodbyes.

In the meantime you would enjoy what the weather had to offer and what better way to emancipate yourself from the innocence of youth and broadcast to the world that you were an adult than a girls road trip to Miami? You may not have been old enough to drink but that didn’t stop the college guys on summer vacation from keeping you and your friends well supplied. 

Looking back, it only proved how young and naive you were. 

“Dalt, I really shouldn’t be here,” Logan complained as a red cup was thrust into his hand. “I could get in so much trouble for this.”

“Relax, bro, you’ll be fine.” His older brother clapped him on the back happily. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The beach house was right on the waterfront and Logan stepped out onto the white sand to dip his toes in the warm water. He didn’t know who’s family the place belonged to but Dalton seemed to know everyone by name. It only made him feel even more left out and he thought maybe he should have just stayed in England for the summer break. 

The house was stifling with the humid temperatures compounding to a sauna with all the bodies inside. The beer had started off cool but it had warmed in your hands and began to taste disgusting so you abandoned it into the hands of a stranger passing by who swiftly chugged it back before shouting the Greek alphabet you assumed was the name of his frat house. You had certainly bitten off more than you could chew and debated catching a Greyhound bus home where you felt safe but you wouldn’t ditch your friends who were absolutely in their element.

The beach wasn’t like any you had seen before arriving in Miami. The sand bars were tiny pockets of islands and each property seemed to be its own space divided by narrow canals that lead to dry docks for their expensive boats. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked the stranger who sat in the sand at the water's edge. It was impossible to ignore each other’s presence when the rising tide had left such little space.

“It’s a free country,” he said with a small smile, his palm quickly swiping away the picture he had drawn in the sand. 

“I don’t know about that. Sometimes it feels like a prison. Sorry, that was really morbid.”

He laughed and tipped his head back to the sun that still beat down despite being late in the afternoon. “You’re not wrong though. I love coming home, but sometimes I’m glad I don’t live here anymore. I don’t know how to fit in with that,” he said looking back at drunken revelers who had stripped down to their swimwear despite having no inclination to actually enter the water. 

He looked like the rest of the guys there: tanned skin over a toned body and dirty blonde hair hidden by a cap he wore backwards. The southern drawl also confirmed the fact he called this place home. 

“Where do you fit in then?”

His shoulders shrugged as he picked at a desiccated chain of Neptune’s necklace that had washed up on the beach. He busied himself with plucking each individual bead off the seaweed and flicking it back to the water. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, what did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“A Formula One racing driver, or a fisherman.”

You buried your toes in the sand, wiggling them to dig deeper where it was cooler. “I thought the all-american dream was to be an astronaut?”

You met his blue eyes and saw the amusement that sparkled in them. “I’m afraid of heights,” he admitted with a grin before he held out his hand. “I’m Logan.”

“I think we are beyond names here, I already know your hopes and dreams,” you teased, shaking his hand. 

“But I don’t know yours, yet.”

“I can give you my name, but as for hopes and dreams, I have no idea what I want to be. I’m still trying to figure that out.” You realised his hand was still in yours and gave it another small shake. “I’m Y/N.”

As the sun fell below the horizon the party grew larger and soon it spilled into the slice of paradise you had carved out with Logan. Sand was kicked up as two guys tackled each other to the ground and Logan threw a protective arm around you before they could crash into your side.

“Back it up bro,” he said as he rose to his feet and pulled you up too, tucking you in behind his back. “You could have hurt somebody.”

“Aw, Sargeant, is that your girlfriend?”

Logan ignored them and turned to check you were alright. His eyes scanned over your body and slowed on their ascent before he cleared his throat and met your eyes again. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You scanned the crowd and spotted two of your friends dancing and the other sat on some guy's lap, smiles on all their faces. You couldn’t disappear and make them worry but you didn’t want to stay as the party only grew more chaotic. “Yes, please, I’ll just tell my friends I’m leaving.”

You weren’t going to attempt to get amongst the gyrating bodies so instead headed to Dakota. The guy sitting beneath her noticed your arrival first and grinned at Logan as he stepped in beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You’re leaving aren’t you? Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“You two know each other?” you asked. 

“Only since birth,” Logan answered. “This is my brother, Dalton. Dalton, this is Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said before turning your attention to your friend. “I’m going to head off, Kote. Logan said he can drop me off at the apartment after dinner.”

“Are you sure? I can take you back if you want.”

You laughed and leaned into Logan, enjoying the warmth that came as his arm curled around your waist. “I’m good, someone needs to make sure those two get back.”

You both looked at the twins who had found dance partners and knew the rented 4 bedroom apartment was probably going to double in residents by morning. With a resigned sigh that she didn’t really feel as the group mother, Dakota nodded. “I’ve got them, you two have fun.”

The wink she sent you off with made your cheeks heat but you hadn’t actually planned on doing what the action implied. Of course Logan was attractive, and the thought of taking him to your bedroom was one that had you melting, but you were quite happy just enjoying his company too. 

“Are you hungry? I know this great spot but it’s a bit of a drive from here.”

Out in the street where the sounds of the thumping bass couldn’t reach your stomach rumbled and you smiled sheepishly. “Just a little.”

The restaurant he knew was on Key Largo, about an hour south of where the party was in Miami Beach and you were amazed by how many bridges had been built to connect the keys. It would have felt a bit scary driving over the ocean if it wasn’t for Logan recounting stories of growing up in the state. It was a good distraction to listen to the fondness in his tone as he remembered fishing off the now-closed piers that he pointed out. 

“I think this is where you fit in,” you said as he cruised along the highway in his pickup truck, the radio quietly playing an RnB station in the background. It was warm enough that the window was down and the breeze blew his hair back like a runway model.

He glanced across the car and lifted a questionable brow. “In Florida?”

“No! Behind the wheel. You look, I don’t know, comfortable? No, content, that’s the word.” 

On the beach Logan had shared how he was halfway through the season of Formula 3 in Europe and had hopes to join an F1 team in the future. It was also when he mentioned returning to the country he currently lived in, four thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean. Despite only just meeting him, you felt the four week countdown arriving like a dark storm cloud.

Those four weeks flew by almost as quickly as you fell in love. 

Summer Break 2024

The soy milk screeched and you winced at the sound before saving the new girl, and the coffee, from the machine. Thankfully it wasn’t scorched as the shop was already full with the busy morning foot-traffic and you wanted to keep it flowing for the customer’s sake. 

“Soy latte with a shot of hazelnut?” A hand went up and you passed the takeaway cup over. “Have a nice day.”

You looked at the next order stuck to the bench and immediately searched for the customer, a smile splitting your face when you found him. “Baby, you’re home! Why didn’t you call?”

Logan ducked under the staff counter and met your embrace with strong arms that pulled you to your tiptoes. “I called, but you must have been busy here. God, it’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

You checked your phone in the pocket of your apron and saw the missed call before slipping it over your head. “Marie, can you keep an eye on everything?”

“Yeah, course, hun, take your time,” the part time barista said with a wave. “Welcome home, Logan.”

“Thank you.” 

You dragged Logan eagerly through the swing door that stated ‘staff only’ and past the break room to the disused office at the back. “I’ve missed you so much,” you managed to say between the desperate kisses you shared as he kicked your door closed. 

“Missed you too.”

Your hands reached beneath his shirt and he chuckled breathlessly as he caught them before they could move any further. “Tempting, sweetheart, but not here.”

You pouted as you draped your arms around his neck instead and held him tight. “I have the studio booked in 20 minutes, did you want to come?”

Logan rolled his eyes at the stupid question and didn’t bother to answer as he tucked his hands into the back of your jeans and buried his face in your hair. “You smell like blueberry muffins,” he hummed happily. 

“I can steal one,” you offered but when you pulled away he quickly pulled you back with a shake of his head.

“Diet.”

You grabbed the flesh on his abdomen, feeling the hard muscle beneath. “You’re perfect, baby, one muffin isn’t going to change that - but it will make you happier. Go grab a seat in the staff room.”

You walked him back down the hall and let him settle into the couch while you grabbed a muffin from the front counter. Most of the rush had quickly cleared and with the lull in orders you made him his favourite drink. 

“You spoil me, sweetheart,” he said with a gratefully smile as you placed the plate and cup on the coffee table. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” You sank into the couch beside him and watched him pick apart the muffin, finding all the blueberries to eat first. He could feel your eyes on his hands as they fiddled with crumbs but before he worked up the courage to explain why he caught a flight two days earlier than planned. “What’s going on, baby?”

He exhaled a heavy sigh and wiped his hands clean before taking yours. “I think it’s over.”

Your heart cleaved apart and your ears started ringing as your world came crashing down. There was only one semester left in your art programme before all the plans the two of you made would come to life - plans that started with moving to England with Logan. Plans that were crumbling down.

“It’s over?” you repeated as silent tears streaked your face and your hands slipped from his.

Horror bled into Logan’s features and he snatched your hands back, placing them over his chest where his heart beat rapidly with panic. “Not us, never us,” he rushed with a harsh shake of his head. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are my everything.”

You sagged with relief as he wiped your eyes but the relief was short lived as you understood what he meant and the phantom pain in your chest returned. “Have you spoken to James?”

He nodded and leaned into your touch as your palms ran up his chest to cradle his face. “It’s not good.”

To hear the defeat in his voice was something you never wished to hear again. It was a sound that no 23 year old should make, he was too young to feel the immense pressure he was under and a weaker man would have been broken by it. But Logan was strong, mentally and physically - he would recover from this, you would make sure of it.

“Come on,” you whispered as you rose to your feet and tugged his hands. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“But you have class.”

You grabbed your handbag from your locker and tossed him the car keys. “This is more important, and I can paint anywhere.”

—

The drive to Miami took most of the day and the frown on Logan’s forehead seemed to soften as the arid air turned humid and the paddocks turned to swamp before he sped through Alligator Alley. The top 40 charts played quietly on the radio and Logan hummed along with the ones he liked while he held your hand on your thigh. 

A contented sigh of relief exhaled from deep in Logan’s chest as the sunset and the city lights illuminated the horizon. Though he was tired to his bones, just the sight of his home was enough to rejuvenate him and he sat up a little straighter before taking the exit that would lead him to Fort Lauderdale. 

Madelyn and Daniel were already expecting Logan and the front door opened before he could turn the engine off. It had been a while since they last had Logan home and you felt a little guilty since most of his returns to home soil were to visit you instead, but they didn’t hold it against you. Madelyn was just happy that there was someone who loved and supported Logan as much as she did.  

It was immediately clear that she wasn’t aware of his current struggles as you saw him hide behind a confident smile as she asked how everything was going. 

“I don’t want to disappoint them,” he admitted as he closed his bedroom door after dinner. 

You placed your bag on the floor and took a seat at the headboard before patting the spot beside you. Logan flopped down on the bed and rested his head on your thighs while his long legs hung over the edge, looking up as if you had all the answers. 

“You could never disappoint them, Lo, they just want you to be happy. And, you're worrying about things that haven’t even come to pass. We don’t know what the second half of the season will bring.”

“I know you are being reasonable, but I can’t help thinking this is the end. Everyone else thinks so too.”

“You mean everyone on X, formally known as twitter,” you said with a roll of your eyes that made him chuckle. “How about no social media for the whole break? Just disconnect from it all for four weeks.”

“And what happens at the end of the break?” he asked quietly, sensing deja vu from the last time he asked this three years ago. It was an eerily similar state too with his head on your legs but you were on the white sands instead of a bed. You had already fallen in love but he was due to fly back to Europe and you would be getting in the car with your friends and heading home. He had forever changed you that summer.

You combed your fingers through his hair as you relived the same memory. “We will be grateful for the time we had together.”

A smile tugged at his lips and he sat up so he could pull you onto his lap. “I’m not letting you go again.”

“I should hope not,” you stated as your knees settled either side of his thighs and you reached into his pocket to fish his phone out. “Now say goodbye to this, I am having you all to myself.”

He plucked the phone from your fingers and tossed it to the side table before putting all those glorious muscles to good use. The room spun until he caged your body beneath his and he gently kissed his way across your collarbone. “You already have me, sweetheart.”

–

A sick twisting feeling gripped your gut as you waved goodbye to Logan through misted eyes. No matter what you had said, you could feel his stress growing as the break came to an end and now he was going back alone. You wished you could go with him.

The drive back to your apartment was too quiet but you couldn’t listen to the radio because the songs he would have hummed to would only make you miss him more. It always took days, weeks even, to reacclimate yourself to the loss of his presence when he left. It never got easier but the memories made were worth it.

The days dragged by as classes began again and the repetitive routine of life was reestablished. Finally it was the weekend and you could curl up on the couch and watch Logan’s practice on F1TV while you were surrounded by paintings of him. There were two new additions that had come back from Miami, one capturing his happiness as he reeled in a bluefish and the other capturing his perfect features as he sunbathed shirtless, that one was purely indulgent.

“Oh no, Sargeant has taken a big shunt into the barriers there.”

Your feet slammed to the floor as you jumped out of your seat and stumbled closer to the tv as if you could reach through it and help, but you were helpless to watch as Logan remained in the car in the middle of the track - red flags waving. 

“Come on, baby, get out of there,” you begged as you heard his radio saying he was okay, but then the back of the car ignited into flame. You were screaming for him to get out as George’s car rolled by, his hands gesturing wildly for Logan to get out too before he finally was free of the seat harness and jumping out over the halo. 

You finally breathed a sigh of relief but it didn’t last as the camera cut to Logan leaning on the barriers, his head hung in defeat despite the helmet hiding his face. You knew your boyfriend better than anyone, you knew exactly what was going on inside his head and you knew you had to do something.

The credit card Logan had given you years ago had been left discarded in the back of your underwear drawer. He said it was for you to use but you had never been with him for the money and even as a broke uni student you hadn’t used it once. But this was an emergency, and if you were ever going to use it then you could be damn sure it was going to be spent on him.

One quick email was sent to your professor begging for an extension due to a family emergency before you packed a bag and booked the first flight out to Amsterdam.

With shaking hands you typed a message: I’m so glad you got out of there, baby. I’m on my way and I love you so much xxx

You knew he wouldn’t be able to reply for a little while since he would have to get back to the team garage, and there would be other responsibilities first like having a medical check and debrief, but you sent it anyway along with the flight numbers so he knew where you would be and when. It was going to be a long day with the 13 hours of flights plus the change in timezone but nothing was going to keep you from getting to Logan before the race tomorrow.

–

A stranger with a whiteboard greeted you at the airport and the exhaustion of the trip faded away when you reached the paddock with a pass in hand and stepped into the Williams garage. Bodies of mechanics moved in sync as they rushed around the car preparing it for the race that was due to start in a few short hours but it was one man that was standing among them that drew you closer. 

“Lo,” you greeted softly behind him on raised tiptoes. 

A wide smile split his face as he turned to embrace you, lifting your feet off the ground as he buried his face in your neck. “Hellow, sweetheart,” he breathed against your skin before inhaling the familiar scent of your perfume. 

Your hands tightened on his waist as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you okay?”

He pulled back and his smile faltered. “I’m better now that you’re here.” 

You reached up to trace the curve of his cheek where his smile had been but his team principal called his name before you could feel the shadow of his beard on your palm. “Can I borrow you for a minute?” he asked Logan before spotting you, a flicker of surprise on his face. “Hello, Y/N, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You too, James,” you replied politely before stepping out of Logan’s arms and giving him a little nudge in the right direction. “I’ll wait over in hospitality.”

Logan spent what time he could with you, reassured by the feel of your arms wrapped around his neck and your cheek pressed to his as you sat on his lap in the single chair that furnished his driver room. The thin walls did little to dampen the noise of the motorhome and the crowd beyond but for a few minutes Logan could forget it all and the pressure that came with it - until the clock ticked away the precious minutes alone and reality returned.

“I have to score a point today,” he whispered like he was confessing a sin and he tipped his head back to stare at the roof. “No point, no seat. That's the deal.”

“Can they do that with your contract?”

“They can do whatever they want, sweetheart. I’m lucky they let me go this long without contributing.”

You cupped his face and tipped it forward so he was forced to look you in the eyes. “There are more ways to contribute to the team than just scoring points. You spend hours in the simulator every week so they can get their precious data.”

“And then I go and cost them $250k when I crash,” he laughed humorlessly and dropped his forehead to yours. “I think this is it. I’m tired and it’s so hard to enjoy it now. That’s the worst part out of all of it. I used to like my job, it was all I wanted to do.”

Your thumbs caught the tears that clung to his lower lashes. “What do you want now?”

“I honestly have no idea, I just know I want to be wherever you are.”

A knock at the door interrupted the promise you were going to make and someone in a William’s shirt said it was time to head back to the garage before ducking back out of the room.

“I love you” you whispered between the kisses you traced across the bow of his lips. “I want you to go out there today and forget James and points and all that stuff and just enjoy the race. I have watched you give everything to this team but today I want you to be selfish, okay? Enjoy it out there or it’s all for nothing, no matter the outcome. And when you get out of that car I will be waiting for you, arms wide open.”

Logan closed his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath before he captured your lips in a passionate kiss that left you both breathless. Resolute and proud, he stood up and placed you on his feet before grabbing his cap and slapping it on his head. “I’ll see you at the finish line.”

[hellenhighwater]

my folks are bringing home kittens this week, and it's been about twenty years since they last had a kitten in the house; as a more recent wrangler, any advice on kitten rearing? they're two eight week old males, part of a litter of six, raised by their mama in a household with two dogs and an 11-year-old, so they should be well socialised!

Set ground rules for your humans! Discuss rules for the kittens as a group and make sure everyone understands them and will follow them consistently.

1. No playing with hands. This is a big one, because it's the only way to keep your cat from learning it's okay to bite and claw people. Play with toys, not hands. It's SOOOO tempting to just get in there and do belly rubs but you have to teach manners at this age. If there is biting and clawing, disengage; exaggeratedly ignore the kitten for a little bit, refusing to play, and then resume play with a toy. But do play with them a lot! They have a lot of energy to work off.

2. Do introductions slowly; it's overwhelming and you don't want to rush it. It's a good idea to keep them in just one room for a while to start. (It also really sucks to let a cat loose in a whole house and then discover you can no longer locate the cat in the house.)

3. Decide now where the cats aren't going to be allowed. If you don't want them on the kitchen counters, then start by not allowing them into the kitchen unsupervised. Keep an eye on them and set the boundary, and make sure they're not left unattended to break the rule behind your back. I did this with my cats, and Mal and Vice still follow it with zero reinforcement--I can leave loose cat treats all over the kitchen table and they'll still be there when I come home from work.

4. Handle them! Not forcefully--if they're freaking out, don't force things unnecessarily, but handle their paws, legs, etc. Eventually you may need to trim claws or help them with messes and it's a lot easier if your cats are cool with being handled all over.

5. Introduce the carrier, collar, harness, whatever you want to use, early on, as normal parts of inside life. The carrier can stay out as a bed/play space, and you can introduce collars and harnesses pretty young, if you're going to do that at all.

6. Take lots of pictures and post them on the internet.