#laughing after she turns him into a mushroom

[the-starry-lycan]

”And then she laughed at me.” Ninja wiped at his teary eyes, remembering the sting of her whip in his face, the pain startling him out of his mushroom form and back into a human. “Quarble, too.” “Hey. Hey, don’t cry.” Shopkeeper reached for a box of tissues, then offered him one. Despite what she said, the poor boy had been crying ever since he came back from the last attempt to beat her. “A-at least the.. the Golem wasn’t mean, you know?” He sniffled, then blew his nose with one of Shopkeeper’s tissues. “She likes hurting me..”

“It’s hard.. I know. No one said it would be easy.” Shopkeeper remembered the Monk herself, how even she had found some difficulty at the start of her journey. Not nearly as much as Ninja, in all honesty.. but it was there. Shopkeeper herself had only carried the scroll for so long before becoming one of the Robes. Ninja just stood there, looking miserable, tears running down his cheeks. He looked toward the exit of the shop, then down at the counter. Shopkeeper noticed a couple more scars on his arms, appearing from Quarble’s magic when he was taken from death - the magic wasn’t flawless, she could see, and some wounds would still carry over. Those scars carried the unmistakable look of the Queen of Quills’s bramble whip. “I don’t-.. I don’t usually do this. I don’t ever do this, actually, but… do you want a hug?”

“S-..sure.” Ninja leaned awkwardly over the counter, towards Shopkeeper, who just as awkwardly put her arms around him. Dear Solstices, this felt weird, but.. she didn’t mind, oddly enough. Especially given that the last Messenger she had hugged was the very monk who was giving him grief. And Ninja looked like a lost puppy whenever he was sad.. big brown eyes full of heartache.

“Shh. It’s okay.” Shopkeeper patted his back, feeling him hiccup and sob against her shoulder. This was a heavy burden.

And by no means should he do it alone.

[Why, yes, the footage above is from my own playthrough]

[callieisto]

☆ Kinktober Day 4: Aphrodisiac! ☆

(fem!reader)

Sam hated witches.

They were nearly impossible to deal with, mischievous, and most of the time, they had no real idea what they were getting themselves into. But the ones that did know were the ones Sam hated the most. Because they did stuff like this.

This older grandma-type had seen you and Sam when you came to interview her about some teenagers disappearing, and then claiming they spent three weeks in the woods as actual animals- squirrels and deer and rabbits. Due to what they claimed was a witch, and what the police claimed to be hallucinogenic mushrooms (or something.)

She decided you needed a little push in the right direction, and had drugged the two of you with an aphrodisiac in the tea she offered. Too bad the kids had managed to describe her only a few hours later. Dean had shot her in the head before she could really tell them what it did beyond the whole 'making you really horny' thing. The spell, drug, whatever it was, had taken its sweet time kicking in. He thought it would be okay. All three of you did.

A town over, after the burning and the burying and the ruining of spell ingredients, it had hit him in the car- and you moments later. He managed to tell Dean to pull into a motel and splurge for three rooms- because no way was he going to share with his brother, and no way was he going to share with you.

You were just- Well, you were... you were something to him, something sweet and perfect and entirely untouchable. Besides, even seeing you right now might cause his heart to burst, because you raise his resting heart rate by like twenty BPM just by existing around him, and he can already feel his heart thundering against his ribs. He's sweatier than he's ever been in his life, naked on the edge of his bed in the motel room with a hand around his dick.

He's trying to jerk off to this terrible cable porn, but he keeps imagining you between his legs, your eyes fluttering so pretty as you lick up the underside of his dick, over that vein at the tip that makes him shudder, and-

He cums with a little strangled gasp and a whimper, not expecting his release to creep up on him like that. He pants, eyeing the spot where the cum soaks into the rug. He thinks 'god, finally', because maybe that would make everything better.

But he's still hard as a rock. And his head is still foggy. And if he's hearing things right, there's a timid little knocking sound at his door, but that might also be a hallucination due to his brain leaking out of his ears. He's so hot. He feels like he's melting.

The knock comes again, louder this time. Sam clears his head enough to tug on his boxers as he stumbles towards the door, still a little shaky from his orgasm. He looks through the peephole, and...

Shit.

It's you.

He opens the door slightly. He just stares at you- you're wrapped in a bathrobe, you're squirming under his gaze, you're sweaty and you look weaker than he's ever seen you. You're so perfect. So beautiful.

"Hey," He croaks out, voice hoarse. "How are you holding up?"

He's never wanted to kiss you more in his entire life.

Instead, he opens the door all the way and ushers you inside. The idea of anyone else seeing you looking like this makes him feel an emotion he doesn't quite want to deal with, and the door closes and locks behind you. He offers you a weak little smile.

"It's, um, it's worse than I thought it would be." You manage, shrugging as you sit down on the edge of his bed. He winces internally when you cast your eyes towards the cum staining the carpet. You don't say anything.

"Yeah, it's... not great." He manages, running a hand through his hair. "I tried to do some research on it when we got here, but, uh..."

"You got too horny to think?" You offered, laughing weakly. Sam nodded with a breathless chuckle.

"Yeah, um- sorry about the porn. On the tv." He said awkwardly, moving to turn it off. "I thought it would help, but it really didn't."

"It's okay." You whispered, smiling as he turned to you. "I don't think there's really anything that could help."

"I can think of something." Sam says with a laugh, shaking his head.

"Yeah?" And you tilt your head and flutter your eyelashes. His mind goes blank, just a little. He swallows dryly.

"... Yeah."

Sam swears he has no idea what happened. It's like everything blurred together, and suddenly he was on top of you, kissing the air straight out of your lungs. And his body stopped hurting. And the fog cleared a little bit.

"Fuck," He rumbles against your lips. "Fuck, you taste so good."

You moan all sweet into his mouth and he gets dizzy, if he wasn't already hard, he would've been, because you're just so soft and so fucking wet-

He's rutting his cock against your pussy, and fumbling with the tie of your bathrobe. It falls away, and something cracks in his head because his tip catches at your entrance and the moan he lets out is guttural. He feels wild, he feels hungry, and he wants to fill you up with cum until it leaks out around him.

"Shh, shh," He hushes breathlessly, because you're mewling and it's so cute he might die. "Shh, I've got you, d-doesn't it feel better? You want me to make you feel better?"

You nod, lightly knocking your forehead against his, and he laughs softly. "Sam," you whine, and your hands come up to curl around the base of his neck. "Need you, please..."

"I'm here," He coos, sweet and soft. "I'm here, angel, I've got you." He pushes in, slowly, kissing all over your face as he does. Once he's settled, he takes a moment to pull back and drink you in. You're so pretty, so impossibly pretty, and softer than any girl he's ever been with before.

He thrusts, just a little, shallowly, and the noise you make is almost enough to have him cumming right then and there. He breathes out weakly, thumb sliding through your folds to find your clit. He fumbles, a little- sue him for being nervous- but finds it eventually, rubbing it slowly as he bottoms out in you over and over again.

You're whining, squirming, and- holy shit- you've cum already, just so sweet and sensitive for him, tensing and crying out and he has half a mind to thank the witch profusely because he never would've dared to touch you if this hadn't happened.

"You're so pretty." He breathes, and his voice breaks when he thrusts back in. He's trying so hard not to cum right then and there. "God, oh god, I want to fill you up so bad. Wanna see you dripping with it, oh god."

"Pleasepleaseplease," you beg. "Please, Sammy, want it, need it-" And with that, Sam's mind fucking shatters. He registers that he cums again, register that you cum again, and he's still fucking hungry, wants to stay like this forever.

He keeps going, working both of you through another orgasm, whimpering breathless little moans of your name, babbling about how good you feel, his head dropping into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, and he whines like a dog.

The rest of the night is a blur. At some point, he thinks the aphrodisiac wears off, but his memory blots out a little ways before that. Waking up in the morning, he's still in bed, and you're tucked into his chest. His head is spinning. He sits up, and you mumble sleepily, and his heart clenches in his chest.

"Good morning." He whispers, kissing over your face. When he gets a little giggly smile from you, he smiles back.

And then he pulls out. A little flood of cum follows.

And Sam has officially been ruined, because he's going to have to ask Dean for Plan B and he's never going to live it down- but also, he's had you, he's never going to let you go, because you're just so perfect.

He'd endure a lifetime of teasing for you.

☆ taglist!

@adhd-introvert

[twice-inamillion]

OC’s Birthday Part 2

Smut (Birthday Blowbang, Facial, Deep Throat, Milk Feeding, Grinding)

Chapter 241

Words: 2520

(The members reward you with a special birthday present after being away for so long.) 

After celebrating with the kids and the members, the mothers put the babies to sleep. The rest clean up the mess as you kiss each of your children good night. As you walk down the stairs, you see all nine of the girls lined up with a chair in the middle.

“What are you girls doing?”

Jihyo walks towards the center, “Us girls wanted to give you a birthday present to thank you for all the things you’ve done for us.” 

Tzuyu wants towards you and grabs your hand, leading you to the chair. Nayeon pulls out a blindfold and ties it to make sure you can’t see what is going to happen next. 

“Wait, what are you girls doing?” you ask as you feel someone bring your hand behind the chair and feel the handcuffs being placed.

You hear Jihyo say, “Take off his clothes, make sure nothing remains.” The feeling of multiple hands on your body as they take off your shirt, pants, and eventually your boxers. 

Deprived of sight, you hear whispers amongst the members, and you wait nervously for what’s about to come. “What’s going on?”

After a moment of silence, you feel someone spread your legs and grab your member. You gasp at their cold but long fingers around your cock and immediately know who it is. 

“Nayeon?”

There is a slight laugh in the background, but the hands continue to fondle both your cock and balls. You feel your cock getting harder, waking up from its slumber. 

Nayeon smiles at you, knowing it’s her; she grabs your shaft and pulls your foreskin, revealing its mushroom tip. She slowly jerks you off and watches as your cock grows with each stroke. You groan at your cock growing, the foreskin stretching to its limit. 

Suddenly, you feel a pair of fingers scratch the back of your balls, causing you to twitch slightly. “Haha, he’s twitching.” 

One of the members says, “Let’s see who can make him cum.”

Each of them grin at the idea and look at you in your vulnerable state.

”Alright, let the best winner win.”

——

The members watch as Nayeon is the first to service you. They try their hardest not to make a noise as Nayeon gets your cock ready for your blowbang surprise. 

Once it’s completely hard and standing proud, they look at Jeongyeon. Momo gives her a slight but quick nudge, letting her know that it’s her turn to join. She nods, not wanting the rest of the members to see her service you. Jihyo walks behind her and pushes her, taking a few steps forward. She turns her head, nodding that she doesn’t want to go. Nayeon stood up, grabbed Jeongyeon’s hand, and pulled her to where she was. 

With both of them on their knees, Jeongyeon sees your massive cock in front of her. 

Nayeon looks at Jeongyeon’s face and points at herself, signaling that she’ll be the first to go. Jeongyeon, who is frozen, watches as Nayeon lifts your cock and goes straight for your balls. She uses her long tongue and gets every inch of your sack covered with her salvia. 

She turns to Jeongyeon and pulls her, letting her know to join her. Jeongyeon, who is now in front of you, takes your cock and repeats the same thing that Nayeon just did. 

“I know that was Nayeon earlier, but who’s this?”

The members giggle at the sight of Jeongyeon licking your back sack.”

“Now his cock” Nayeon nudged at Jeongyeon.

Jeongyeon holds your cock with her left hand and slowly inserts the tip into her mouth. She circles her tongue around your mushroom tip, making you twitch slightly. The members are surprised at how willingly she is taking your cock, without her usual complaints. 

Suddenly Jeongyeon feels someone hold the back of her head and push it down against your cock. Jeongyeon gags instantly, feeling your whole length go up her throat. 

She feels your cock’s reaction, throbbing at the sound of someone struggling to handle your length. 

“What the hell! Who was it?”

She turns around and sees the members giggling amongst each other. Nayeon taps Jeongyeon’s shoulder, “Don’t worry about it; let’s keep on going.”

The two of them start where they left off, Nayeon with the balls and Jeongyeon with your shaft. They switch every go often, making sure that none of your areas are left unattended. 

After a few minutes, Jihyo walks up to them and taps them on the shoulder, signaling that their time has run out.

With the two oldest members walking back to the group, they see Momo and Sana step up and walk towards you. 

They smile at Nayeon and Jeongyeon, knowing that it might be their fault that you didn’t cum. 

The first one to get on their knees is Sana, who immediately goes for a kiss. She puckers her soft lips and kisses your mushroom head. From that single kiss, you knew who it was and tried to call her name, but before you did, you felt someone’s mouth pressed against your balls.

You feel the person’s mouth spread wide open, and take one of your balls into their mouth. They twist and turn their tongue, making sure every part of your balls is covered in their salvia. 

Another pair of hands approach you, grabbing your shaft and giving it a few strokes. Their soft and thin fingers make your cock excited. You then sense a pair of lips kissing your cock once more, this time the tip to the shaft, before hearing, “Itadakimasu!”

“Is that you, Sana?”

The members giggle once more at Sana getting caught. You try to respond but are overwhelmed by the feeling of your cock scraping the back of Sana’s throat. 

Out of nowhere, you feel Sana pull out and whine, “Hey, I’m not done yet.” 

“Too bad.” 

You could tell that it was Momo because she didn’t wait to devour your cock. She bobs her head, making loud slurping noises.

“Momo unnie is an expert at sucking,” says the youngest.

“Not a surprise since she likes to eat,” replies Dahyun.

“I’m better,” responds Chaeyoung.

“Haha, sure you are,” says Jeongyeon in a mocking voice.

“Just wait and see when it’s my turn.” 

“Oh, Chaeyoung is serious,” says Nayeon.

Momo continues to bob her head but listens to the member’s conversation. She laughs at the idea of competition but knows that she and Sana were the winners by getting pumped full of cum directly. 

“Momo-yah, don't you think it’ll be hard to make him cum after draining him earlier?”

“Maybe, let’s see how the others go.”

“Okay.”

Both Momo and Sana stand up, leaving your cock oozing a mixture of precum and Momo’s thick saliva on your cock.

Up next is Jihyo; she grabs and pulls Mina, who looks nervous. “Let’s do it together, us mommies.”

Jihyo takes off her top, revealing her large tits. “Let’s have some fun.” She places your cock between her tits and presses them together. You immediately know who’s tits are by the size and softness. 

Jihyo looks at Mina, “Us mommies need to know how to pleasure our baby daddy.” She uses her spit as lube to stroke your cock with her tender breasts.

“Fuck… that feels nice.” 

Jihyo smiles, looks at Mina, and whispers, “Spray some of your milk on his cock.” Mina then lifts her shirt up and undoes her bra, dropping it on the floor. She cups both her breasts and hovers on top of your cock, giving them a firm squeeze. 

Mina’s sweet milk comes out and sprays both Jihyo's chest and tits. Jihyo continues the stroking of your cock, adding a thin layer of milk on you. Without instruction, she stands up and decides to feed you. She whispers in your ear, “Please open your mouth, oppa.” 

You nod and slightly open your mouth with your tongue sticking out. Mina grins at your submissive state. She creates a small ball of salvia and drops it on the back of your mouth, tricking you. 

“What is this?”

There’s no response; instead, you feel a small drop of warm liquid hit the tip of your tongue. The taste is familiar, something you’ve experienced before. 

“Mina?”

A stream sprays your face, and you open your mouth, wanting more. Enjoying your reaction, she decides to squeeze her tit a bit more, aiming the stream of milk coming out her nipple into the back of your tongue. 

Hearing the voices of the members, Jihyo looks up and sees Mina feeding you. She stands up and goes to the other side, “Can I join?”

”Yeah.”

She grabs one of her tits with both hands, aims it towards your mouth, and gives it a hard squeeze. You feel a bigger stream hit your face and mouth, to the point of almost drowning. The members laugh as they see you struggling with the amount of milk from both mommies. 

You don’t know how much time passed, but your stomach is completely full. You sit on the chair exhausted, “seems like we did our work. Let’s give the younger ones a chance.”

The next one to step forward is Dahyun after getting pushed by Chaeyoung. She hesitates to walk and turns to the members, who give her a thumbs up. She turns back at you and approaches you slowly. 

Dahyun, who is now on her knees, pokes at your standing cock. It reacts to her touch, twitching lively. She grabs your cock with her right hand and gives it a firm grip, barely able to connect her fingers together. 

You realize who it is as she’s always struggling with your cock, but that’s one of the things you love about her. “I know those hands anywhere, I know that’s you, Dahyun.” She continues to stroke you with the use of her small hands.

After getting you hard again, she slaps her soft cheeks, leaving traces of precum on it. Dahyun pulls down her top and decides to copy what the two previous mommies did and cover you with their milk. She massages her breasts, preparing her milk glands to get emptied. 

Dahyun presses her tits together with your hard cock in the middle, “Fuck Dahyun, you’re breasts are so soft. They are truly the definition of tofu.”

After stroking your cock with her tits she stops, positioning her breasts and giving one of them a firm squeeze. 

The members see the definition of white hit the tip of your cock. Dahyun’s milk is the purest out of all of them just like her pale skin. She continues to squeeze, emptying one breast before taking your cock into her mouth. 

She uses her long tongue to clean the milk meant for her daughter from your shaft. You can’t understand how the smallest member has such a long and strong tongue. She continues to lick all the milk when you feel her invade your peehole, “Ahh fuck…”

Dahyun looks at your reaction and focuses on that spot. With the tip of her tongue, she presses down on your pee hole, causing you to release a small amount of precum. She continues to do this until her tongue is completely sore.

“Unnie, it’s our turn.” 

Dahyun turns around and sees Chaeyoung and Tzuyu waiting anxiously. “Alright, you can go.”

The two youngest members don’t waste any time as they swoop in and get on their knees. Chaeyoung’s face looks one of hunger, hungry for some delicious cock. Tzuyu, on the other hand, was really trying to please her daddy in any way she could. 

“Tzuyu-yah, I’m going to show you how to suck some cock.”

Chaeyoung takes your cock in her hand and drops a huge ball of salvia on your rod. She licks her mouth slowly and inserts your cock into her mouth. You feel the tip of your member scrape the top of her throat as it goes down. Like a proper sleeve, her walls massage your cock until it reaches all the way inside. Chaeyoung stays still as she holds her head down, counting how long she can last before her gag reflex kicks in. 

Tzuyu watches in amazement at how quickly Chaeyoung can take control of things. The way she prepares your cock before taking it in and the amount of time she can hold on before gagging is something she wants to do herself someday. 

“Gawk, gawk, gawk.”

Chaeyoung’s gag reflex finally hits, and she releases your cock with a heavy amount of thick saliva oozing out. “F…Fuck… I almost choked on his cock.”

”It’s my turn,” says Tzuyu.

She gets on her knees and grabs your member. Like Sana, she gives it a small kiss before anything else. Tzuyu stands up and takes off her skirt and panties, and sits on your thighs. She grabs your face and begins to kiss you, “Oppa, I love you so much. Love seeing you like this, all bound up. Too bad all the unnies are here or else…” 

She’s cut off when she feels your cock hit her butt, “Oppa, you’re such a bad boy. Jihyo unnie said no penetration but didn’t say anything about grinding.”

Tzuyu places your cock in between her ass cheeks and begins to slowly grind her ass. She can feel the thick veins from your cock, the blood rushing down to your manhood as it’s telling you that it’s close to bursting. 

“Your cock is throbbing so much. Do you really like my ass that much?”

Jihyo walks behind Tzuyu and whispers, “It’s time.”

Suddenly, Tzuyu stops and gets off of you, the binding from your hands unlocked, and you hear Jihyo say, “Babe, stand up, but don’t open your eyes when I take off your blindfold.” 

“Okay, what’s going on?”

The members all kneel down and get in front of you, “Okay, grab your cock and make yourself cum.”

You do what you’re told and grab your cock with your right hand, jerking it rapidly. You can feel your peak reaching after all that teasing, “Oh fuck, I’m going to cum…” 

“Open your eyes and cum!”

You struggle to open your eyes but see multiple silhouettes in front of you. When your vision gets back, you see all the members on their knees with their heads up and some with their tongues sticking out.

”Paint our faces with your baby batter!”

There's no need to hold any longer as a wave of cum explodes on their faces. You paint each and every one of them with a load of hot cum, some on their mouths while others on their eyes and nose. 

“I’m cumming! Make sure that not a single drop falls on the floor.”

”Fuck…”

”Fuck… that was good.”

Some of the members open their eyes and turn to look toward you, and one of them asks, “What did you think, oppa? You like cumming on our faces for your birthday?”

[theoriginalkaminari]

A fluffy little oneshot on Izuku x reader, where he’s just crushing on his best friend?

Lil bro I gottchu

(Hope you don't mind, but I did him as a teenager still)

This is pretty bad reading over it ngl but I can't find the right way to write it???

Enjoy at your own risk.

"Today, they had finished Uraraka's strawberry cake so it wouldn't go to waste." The green-haired boy mutters to himself as he furiously scribbles in his notebook. Izuku had found himself writing more about you everyday. Anything and everything you did interested him, even if it was the simplest thing you did.

He first excused it as nothing, he was just writing down everything you did because it would probably strength the bond you two had!

It wasn't until his mother found his open notebook that the realized be might be in love with you.

"Izuku!" Inko had said, her voice slightly panicked. "Why are you stalking this person?" She asks, holding up the notebook in confusion and worry. "I know you're a teenage boy, and you are going through some changes, but-"

Izuku blushes intensely, grabbing the notebook and holding it close to him. "Mom! No, its not like that!" He stammers, face now a heavy red. "They're just beautiful and sweet and amazing and-" He pauses, seeing the look on his mom's face. "...oh..." He mutters to himself, understanding that his feelings for you weren't platonic.

So here he was. You and the Dekucrew all went out to the mall, and had stopped at the food court to eat. Izuku scribbled down everything you did in intense detail.

Uraraka gasps. "Tsu, look! That dress is so cute! Uraraka says excitedly, shaking her friend. Asui perks up, looking at the mushroom patterned dress. "It is! Lets go check it out." She replies, taking her hand and walking towards the dress.

"Stay in groups!" Iida calls after them as he jogs to catch up with the two girls.

Izuku looks up at this, realizing that you and him were left alone, since Todoroki and Tokoyomi went to go find some food a little bit ago already.

Izuku turns red as you make eye contact with him, his palms beginning to sweat and his heart pounding in his chest.

"So, you good?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. "You've been distant the whole day." You say, genuine concern seeping into your voice. You lean closer, trying to get a read on whatevers' inside his head.

Izuku gulps and looks away, using his arms and hands to cover his face. "Yep! I'm good! Just a little...overwhelmed! By all the people here!" He laughs nervously, not daring to make eye contact with you.

You only become more concerned as you place a hand on his arm. "Hey, we can go back to U.A if this is to much for you." Your soft voice makes Izuku blush even more, his hands trembling slightly.

"No! No, I'm okay!" Izuku quickly says, standing up and stepping back. "Hey, just stay here for a sec! I gotta go find Todoroki and Tokoyomi!" He says, needing an excuse to calm himself down.

You seem slightly disappointed, and this makes his heart ache. "Right. Okay." You say quietly, placing your chin on your palm.

Izuku feels terrible for making you dissapointed. No! That wasn't his goal at all! He wants to see you happy, this isn't happy!

Izuku decides to give you a hug as an attempt to make you feel better, but when he does, he just freezes. He can't let go of the hug. He NEEDS to hold you close forever, he needs to just...stay like this. In your arms, where nothing bad could happen.

Izuku hides his face in your shoulder, his body trembling slightly as he realizes how badly he loves you.

Izuku Midoriya had a crush on his bestfriend.

(This is kinda shitty anon if you hate it you can be honest🙏🙏 love u)

[tightjeansjavi]

♡ And They Were Roommates ♡

chapter 1 : The Guard Dog

Pairing | Joel Miller x Logan Howlett x f!reader

A/N: this chapter got away from me so fast, but I’m really pleased with how it turned out! After seeing Deadpool & Wolverine for the first time a couple weeks ago, I immediately re-entered my marvel phase and rewatched both Deadpool movies and all of the x-men/wolverine movies (yes, it’s an obsession) the Wolverine was always one of my favorite marvel characters outside of Deadpool and Iron Man. I’m so happy that myself and others are taking the leap to write for him and other characters 🥹 I hope you all enjoy this mini series! I’m super excited for it 💗 comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you @sinsofsummers for betaing and letting me yap at u! And thank u @syd-djarin for also letting me yap 🥰

word count: 8.8k

Summary: after saving the world with Wade, Logan finds himself in a new, strange world. Human life is scarce, (as far as he can see). There’s weird looking mushroom-headed fucks, and he doesn’t have a clue what year it is, either. After traveling aimlessly for months, the Wolverine runs into you, and your guard dog of a boyfriend, Joel Miller.

Warnings: mature themes, smut, implied age gap, brief mention of a gunshot wound, touch of angst, language, derogatory comments about mutants (by Joel) alcohol consumption, brief mention of ouid, pining, hints of a throuple/love triangle, voyeurism (sorta) this Logan is the ‘worst’ variant, but you can picture him however you’d like!, reader has no physical descriptions (I imagine her to be short, but she is a blank slate) +18, minors dni!

series masterlist

If someone had told you before the outbreak that in 20ish years, (math is not my strong suit, sorry) you would be living the life of “luxury” with not only one guard dog as a boyfriend, but two who also were boyfriends, you would have laughed in that person's face and told them that they were in fact insane—but now? Now you wouldn’t even question it. Your life in Jackson before meeting Joel Miller and Logan Howlett was the closest thing to normalcy that you had experienced since the outbreak. You had a home again, a job, and a purpose. But like all things, you were craving more; something new and exciting. Instead of you finding it, Joel Miller found you—or was it the other way around?

He was old fashioned in every sense. Insisting on properly pursuing you after you caught his eye at the corner of the bartop of the tipsy bison. Your care-free spirit and intoxicating aroma had his mind reeling at the thoughts of what he could be doing to you if it was just the two of you in the Bison, all alone with no distractions or disturbances.

He hadn’t thought about women, or sex, or settling down with someone in over 20 years. But here you were, throwing back another shot of whiskey and subconsciously unnerving him further without having any idea as to what it was that you were doing to him.

You were, however, aware that he was watching you, carefully between his harsh swigs from the glass that was perfectly perched in one of his meaty palms.

Mr. New and Exciting is right there. What are you waiting for? Your mind pointed out the obvious as if there was a flashing arrow right above the man’s head of thick, salt and peppered streaked curls that you were dying to run your fingers through.

You downed the remaining contents of your glass for that extra boost of liquid courage and made your move before he could even properly execute his own plan to approach you.

He stiffened, jaw ticking when he felt the bare heat from your arm brush against his own, sending sparks shooting down his forearm all the way down to where his large hand was tightly gripping the glass.

“I’m here to break the ice between us, stranger. Y’know, considering you’ve been staring at me for the past…hour.”

“Excuse me?” He scoffed, bringing the rim of his glass up to his lips for a moment. “Think you oughta get your eyes checked out first before ya start makin’ accusations.” He grumbled, low and deep. His eyes flickered in your direction, brows furrowed together across his forehead in a harsh line.

“Think my eyes are working just fine, thank you very much.”

He tore his harsh gaze away from your face and focused his attention on the mounted moose head on the wall instead. “Buzz off, darlin’. I ain’t lookin’ for conversation.” He snarled and went to slide off the worn down seat, but he was frozen in his spot when your hand wrapped around his bulging bicep, and he felt like a leashed, obedient dog.

“You think I’m here to talk?” You laughed and he immediately felt a hot flush rise from his neck and creep up his face at your brash confidence.

“Ain’t that what most women want nowadays?” He countered your boldness with a gravelly chuckle that sent warmth immediately spreading across your entire body at the scratchy, deep, sound that emitted from his throat.

“Lucky for you, I’m not like most women. Now, how about instead of eye fucking me from across the bar, why don’t we skip the small talk and you take me home instead?” You said with a coy smile and a suggestive tilt of your chin. You loosened your grip around his bicep only to then drag your fingers down the expanse of his arm, watching the muscles there subtly flex from your featherlight touch.

He weighed out his options, glancing around the crowded bar, leaning in close to crowd your personal space entirely. His eyes flickered down towards your lips, and then his heedy gaze met your own almost in a challenge.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, darlin.’” He rasped, reaching for your hand.

And only when you found yourself with your back pressed against Joel Miller’s front door, and his lips attacking your own, did he finally tell you his name between bruising kisses and wandering hands.

And well, the rest is history.

~~

Your arrangement with Joel worked flawlessly for an entire year, and while you both were content without having any labels, being known as Joel Miller’s girl never failed to make your heart melt, and he fucking turned into a goddamn puddle on the floor anytime he got to hear refer to him as your boyfriend.

Life truly could not have gotten better for either of you, but it certainly could get worse in Joel’s case of repeated misfortune. That misfortune being Logan Howlett, the last standing mutant to exist in this universe and now the bane of Joel’s existence.

“What in the fuck are those things comin’ out of your hands?!” A very angry, cold, and bewildered Joel Miller barked over the metallic click of the Wolverine's claws being unsheathed between his knuckles.

“Ya got two workin’ eyes, don’t ya, pal? The fuck do they look like to you?!” The stranger growled, advancing towards the other man.

“Joel?!” Another man’s voice was heard in the distance, followed by thundering hooves and a sharp whinny.

“I got this handled, Tommy!” The other man snapped when Tommy rode up beside him, immediately hopping down from the saddle with his rifle at the ready at the immediate threat in front of them.

Logan was able to quickly piece together with limited information that these two men were brothers, just based on their similar looks and mannerisms.

“Listen, boys, if I was you, I’d lower them guns and pretend that ya never crossed paths with me.”

“Are those fuckin’ knives coming out of his fists?!” Tommy Miller whispered to his brother who nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, he’s some mutant freak. Somethin’ FEDRA musta cooked up.” Joel responded in an equally hushed whisper.

Logan swiftly turned his head to the side, an audible cracking sound in his neck could be heard through the chilling evening air. “You’re really gonna regret callin’ me that, bub.” He snarled, barring his teeth like a rabid dog and advanced forward with full intent to slash his claws through the other man’s chest.

Joel’s reflexes were surprisingly fast even in his age, and when Logan advanced forward, he pulled the trigger on his own rifle, the shot ringing through and startling a flock of birds in a nearby tree, sending them flying upwards towards the sky in a haphazardly direction, squawking loudly.

The bullet hit Logan square in the chest, but the Wolverine barely even staggered backwards from the force of the bullet, and he let out an animalistic, nothing-short-of-pissed-off growl while the two men a short distance away had equal looks of horror on their faces when Logan’s body began to push the embedded bullet out from his chest and heal the once open wound.

The single bullet landed in the snow beneath Logan’s boots just as a high pitched whistle could be detected in the distance.

“What the actual fuck…his body can regenerate itself?!” Tommy whispered to his brother in disbelief.

Joel ignored him and raised his rifle towards the Wolverine again, thumb hovering over the trigger when you appeared on your horse through the snowy cluster of evergreens.

“JOEL! HOLD YOUR FIRE!” You demanded and swung your leg over the saddle, landing on the ground without fault and quickly inserted yourself between the Miller Brother’s and the seething Wolverine with your hands lifted in the air above your head.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?!” Joel diverted his attention to you and your untimely arrival. “Get behind me! We don’t know who or what the fuck this guy is, and he’s clearly dangerous!”

“Listen to your girl, bub. Lower your fuckin’ gun and jus’ let me pass, and we can forget this whole thing fuckin’ happened!” Logan yelled over your shoulder, nostrils flaring and muscles flexing with unbridled rage.

“Will you both just shut the fuck up?!” You snarled in frustration and glared over your shoulder at your unpredictable boyfriend. Let’s all just lower our weapons and take some deep, calming, breaths.”

“Un-fuckin’ believable.” The Wolverine scoffed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at your assertiveness.

Joel and Tommy both slowly and very reluctantly lowered their rifles towards the ground, but the Wolverine’s extended metal claws did not retract at your demand.

“That includes you too, knives.”

Logan couldn’t help but smirk at your choice of nickname given the current circumstances. Man, you had some bigger balls than your boyfriend, that was for damn sure.

“Say it to me a little more gently, sweetheart. Your boyfriend over there got me all riled up, and I jus’ really wanna slash him to bits right now.” He cooed, smirk only then expanding into a wide, toothy grin at both your reaction, and Joel’s.

“Hey! Don’t you fuckin’ talk to her, you—”

“Alright, boys!” You hissed and turned your back so it was fully facing Joel. “Now, this ain’t some contest to see who has the bigger cock, alright? Looks like y’all got off on the wrong foot…clearly.” You stated the obvious.

“Yeah, and I was just passin’ through the area when your boyfriend and I unfortunately crossed paths.” He said gruffly, hackles raised in irritation.

“You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend, he can be trigger happy at times, but within reason. So, let’s start this whole thing over, alright?”

“Think we should just send this freak on his way—”

“JOEL!” You and Tommy whispered loudly in unison.

“Maybe you oughta put a muzzle on that one. Seems like he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut.” Logan snickered.

“Yeah, don’t worry about him, alright? He’ll get muzzled later. So, uh—where exactly are you headed…?” You questioned him warily, realizing that you still didn’t know this mysterious man’s name.

As if he was capable of reading your mind, he could tell by your facial expressions and body language alone that you were wondering what his name was.

“It’s Logan.” He answered your hypothetical question softly, far softer than he had spoken to Joel. “Logan Howlett. That’s my name. And to answer your question, I’m not headed anywhere in particular. Like I said, jus’ was passin’ through the area. Not lookin’ for trouble.” He lowered his fists to his sides, claws finally retracting into his knuckles, the skin healing over instantly.

“Logan.” You repeated his name just as softly. “I understand that you were just passing through, but unfortunately, we can’t just let people pass through without stopping them and questioning them.”

“Yeah, well, don’t think your boyfriend had any intention of just questioning me, sweetheart. S’a good thing that you arrived jus’ in time, cause the way that I see it…” he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and cockily tilted his head to the side, “you wouldn’t have a boyfriend anymore, and woulda been bringing what’s left of him back home in pieces.”

Joel’s muscles went rigid and his eyes darkened, appearing like two black holes instead of the comforting warm brown tone that you were accustomed to. He shook off Tommy’s hand immediately when he went to grab his shoulder to drag him away from the intense brewing situation.

You let out a sigh, rubbing your temples with your gloved fingers. Fucking men and their big dicks and even bigger egos. Un-fucking-believable.

“That is quite enough!” You snapped through the frigid air. “Tommy, please be a doll and escort your brother back to town. I can handle this on my own.”

“Like hell—”

“She’s got this handled, Joel. She’s more than capable. If she ain’t back within the next hour, we’ll come back.” Tommy reassured him with a gentle, yet firm squeeze to his shoulder.

“Fine.” Joel muttered under his breath, pulling his shoulder free again and took a few steps towards you. “See you at home, baby.” He whispered only for your ears to hear and pulled you in for a swift kiss on the lips.

Logan couldn’t help but let out a low wolf whistle at the sight. Fair play. He mused to himself.

“Yeah, see you at home.” You mumbled against his lips, kissing him back and gently shoving him away towards the direction of Tommy and their awaiting horses.

“That’s some guard dog of a boyfriend that you got yourself there, darlin’,” Logan said in amusement, unsheathing his middle claw in Joel’s direction with a condescending and dripping in arrogance grin.

“You have no idea.” You said with a light laugh, turning on your heel to face him again. “So, you’re just passing through the area, right?”

His middle claw retracted slowly with a clink, and he crossed his broad arms against his chest with a tight nod of his head. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Are you infected?”

“The fuck—infected? I don’t got a goddamn clue what you’re talkin’ about, sweetheart.”

“Y’know, the cordyceps infection? The outbreak happened like…twenty somethin’ years ago, but there’s still infected roaming about.”

“Huh.” He chuckled softly, balancing his weight from one foot to the other. “That would explain the lack of humans that I’ve run into lately. This earth seems pretty damn scarce.”

“This…earth? I don’t think I quite pick up what you’re putting down, Logan.”

He pushed out a deep sigh and slowly dragged a hand over his face. “Don’t even get me started.”

“Alright, and your claws…have you always had them?”

He steeled his expression, lips curving downwards into a subtle frown, and his body language alone was an indication that you crossed an invisible boundary.

“Since I was a kid, yes.” He flexed his hands and stared at them as if they weren’t attached to his body. “Used to be less…metal.”

“And what about the fact that your body can regenerate itself and heal? Is that…part of your mutation?” You gestured to the bullet laying in the snow by his boots, still stained with his blood, and yet there was no sign of a wound in his chest any longer.

“Yeah. I still…feel physical pain like everyone else, but it only lasts for a second at most. Well, depending on the severity of the wound, and how many I sustained.”

A hidden flush rose up his cheeks and he coughed into his shoulder to hide his bashfulness from your prying eyes. He gave you a disgruntled look, nodding in an attempt to be polite, but it came out gruffer than he intended. “The hell is FEDRA?”

It was your turn to feel flustered beneath his stare, and stoic demeanor. You almost didn’t notice the way you spewed out the facts, familiar to you like the back of your own hand.

He inclined his head, but looked back up and narrowed his eyes. “And these…infected? They used to say that about us—I mean, me. What’s the difference?”

You tried not to look so shocked at his confessions of ignorance, and somehow managed to blurt out an explanation.

“Oh, those mushroom head lookin’ freaks? Yeah, I’ve run into them a few times here and there, but they all run away from me.” He shrugged. “What in god's green earth is a rat king?”

Your eyes widened drastically. You had never heard of such a thing. “You’re telling me that the infected run away from you? There’s no way—I mean, that’s a first. The rat king is…never mind. Let’s just hope you don’t meet one.”

“Might have somethin’ to do with the Adamantium is my guess. Gotta say, they’re pretty nasty lookin’.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You snorted under your breath. “Look, Joel is probably gonna kill me, but given the current circumstances…do you want to come back to town with me? You’re a long way from wherever you came from, and well, you look like you could use some rest and a proper meal.” You knew with full intent that offering Logan to come back to Jackson with you was risky for a multitude of reasons, and the biggest reason was knowing that Joel was gonna throw a fucking fit.

“I don’t think your boyfriend would really like that idea, sweetheart.” He said with a sigh, picturing what the next few months would be like in total isolation, with no reprieve or end.

“He’ll give me an earful about it, but morally, I can’t just leave you out here alone. So, are you capable of riding a horse?” You gestured with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of your horse impatiently pawing at the snow.

“I suppose a bit of hospitality doesn’t sound all that bad. Y’all got liquor? Could use me a stiff drink about now. And yeah, I know a thing or two about riding.”

Oh.

“We got more than just liquor, Logan.” You leaned in with a small grin, “we got a bar, bacon, and endless whiskey that has since been perfected by Joel’s brother, Tommy. He’s the more reasonable one out of the pair.”

“Shit. Are ya serious? Bacon and whiskey?” His mouth was already watering at the phantom taste of liquor on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a damn good drink.

“Deadly serious.”

“Well then, lead the way.” He nodded in your horse's direction.

You made the choice to stay in the front of the saddle while Logan situated himself on the back and instinctively wrapped his arms around you. “Sorry.” He whispered when he felt your body tense up in his loose grip. “Old habits.”

“S’alright. I just wasn’t expecting it is all.” You tighten your grip around the leather reins, squeezing your calves against the horse's side followed by a gentle click of your tongue to urge the horse into a trot.

The ride back to Jackson was a comfortably quiet one, and it was obvious that Logan wasn’t much of a small talker, and you were more than okay with that.

The only sound between you and him was the occasional squeak of the saddle, a soft snort from your horse, and the thundering hooves across the almost frozen landscape. You slowed to a lope, reaching behind you blindly into the saddlebag and grabbed a white flag, raising it in the air above your head.

The large, looming gates that protected Jackson from outside forces were suddenly pulled open, revealing the hidden community inside and Logan was completely awestruck.

You looked over your shoulder to see his reaction, and you couldn’t help the smile that slowly crossed over your lips at the sight of this brutish, and conflicted man, almost with tears in his eyes because he was seeing what remained of civilization and humanity at the core.

~~

To say that Joel was pissed when you showed up with that fucking mutant freak outside his front door was an understatement. Joel was livid—furious—charged up with rage the second he locked eyes with Logan.

“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. You brought him home?!” Joel hissed between his teeth, almost trembling from how riled up he was.

Man, imagine if this fucker was unfortunate enough to meet Wade fucking Wilson. Logan thought to himself, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath at the mental image of Joel meeting Deadpool for the first time. What a sight that would be.

“Joel, I know you’re angry, and rightfully so, but he’s not infected, and it felt morally wrong for me to just leave him out there on his own.”

“Oh, so I guess we just fuckin’ take in strays now? Is that it? Y’know, you’re supposed to run these things by me first before you just do something irrationally stupid like this!” He hissed.

“Ellie was a stray, and you took her in. I see no difference in this, Joel.” You attempted to reason with him.

“Who’s Ellie?” Logan chimed in, leaned against the entryway with his arms crossed over his chest like he owned the damn place.

“None of your goddamn business, bud.” Joel snapped back quickly, his words cold and biting, but they had no effect on the Wolverine.

“Ellie is his kid. Well, his adopted daughter. Actually, wolvie, she’d lose her goddamn mind if she got to meet a real superhero like you.”

“Not a chance in hell. This—thing isn’t staying here, and he sure as fuck ain’t meetin’ my kid.”

“Ah, so we’ve gone from mutant freak to thing? I’ll take that as an improvement.” Logan snickered under his breath. “I ain't a hero. Far from it actually, so she would unfortunately be met with disappointment.”

“Okay, well, unfortunately, you aren’t the only one who calls the shots around here, Joel. Now, I promised Logan that I would get him a proper meal and a stiff drink. So, either suck it the fuck up and come with us, or stay here and pout like a little kid.”

Damn.

“I hate when you act like you got the bigger set of balls in the relationship, baby.” Joel grumbled under his breath and was already reaching for his discarded coat that was hanging along the well-loved couch.

“Actually, I do have the bigger set of balls, hun. You just need a little gentle reminder now and then.” You shot him a playful wink and pivoted on your heel just as Logan quickly moved out of the way so you could pass through the doorway.

Joel gave the other man a cold stare as he passed him, one that was returned with an acknowledging nod and a small grin before the door swung shut behind the three of you.

Logan had five straight glasses of whiskey in under 20 minutes, leaving you, Joel, and Tommy equally impressed and a tad concerned considering a normal man would surely be on his ass by now after consuming that much liquor in one sitting, but Logan didn’t even appear to be tipsy at all.

“Wanted to apologize to you fellas for how things went down earlier.” Logan announced over the loud chatter and leaned in over the bartop where Tommy was drying off a glass and Joel was swirling the amber contents of his own glass, lost in thought.

“No hard feelings, man.” Tommy was the first to speak up. “I’m sure she told ya why we acted that way in the first place, yeah? We get all kinds of folks crossin’ our paths on patrol, and as long as they ain’t infected, or appearing to be an immediate threat, we let ‘em in.”

“Well, apparently those who appear to be an immediate threat surpass the rules and get let in anyway.” Joel added, tone dripping in sarcasm over the rim of his glass against his lips.

Logan stiffened, jaw clenching and unclenching and he could feel the concealed claws beneath the skin on his knuckles just begging to be unleashed, but he held them at bay.

“I get it, bub. You’re viewing me as a threat, ain’t that right? I show up in your town as a stranger, an outcast with your girl, and you got your hackles raised like a goddamn guardog. Well, I can assure you that I’m not a threat. Learned the hard way a long time ago to not impose on another man’s relationship.”

“As if I’m gonna trust your word?” Joel scoffed, rolling his shoulders forward before he directly looked over at the other man. “I ain’t gonna win a fight with her on this one, but if I even catch a whiff of you tryin’ somethin’ on her, I’ll kick you out so goddamn fast.”

“Noted. Although, I think I’ll stick around for the time being. If your ego wasn’t so inflated, you would probably realize that keepin’ me around is gonna benefit you and this community.”

“Benefit me how exactly? If you’re talkin’ weapons, we don’t need your assistance there. We’re stacked with enough manpower in case there ever was an attack. No one’s got the balls to do that.”

"Like, adamantium.” Your voice floated sweetly over the two brooding men, as you slid into the empty seat between them. “Not only that, but the infected literally turn the other way when he’s crossed paths with them, and oh, let’s not forget that one of his mutation powers is that he can regenerate and heal himself which means he’s pretty much immortal.”

Joel’s face turned red hot with embarrassment with a twinge of irritation. He downed the rest of his glass and slammed it on the counter. He barked an order at his brother to top his glass off. “Bullshit.”

“Would be a shitty lie.” Logan rasped, sliding his empty glass in Tommy’s direction. “I’m older than you, bub.”

“I think I’ve had enough of fantasyland for one fuckin’ day. Adamantium this, mutation that, fucking knives coming out of your hands? Yeah, sure. Older than me? Fat fuckin’ chance, pal.” Joel scoffed, shaking his head and muttering more profanities under his breath.

“He’s like…at least a century old, Joel. If not older.”

“Who is at least a century old?” Ellie chimed in next to Joel as she leaned over the bartop. “Uncle Tommy, can you pour me a beer, pretty please?”

“Ellie.” Joel grumbled, “shouldn’t you be at home doin’ homework?”

Ah, so that’s the old man’s kid. Fitting.

“Dude, it’s the weekend, and I already finished my homework. Dina and I are goin’ to the movies later, but she’s at home freshening up.” Ellie reached over to mess up his hair, but Joel already knew what she was about to do and gently caught her wrist in his hand before she could even get close to his hair.

“The movies?” Logan's question immediately drew Ellie’s attention as Joel dropped her wrist.

“Never seen your face around here before. You new to town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Logan shrugged. “You're Joel’s kid then?”

“The one and only.” She beamed proudly while Joel scowled. “Wait, so who is at least a century old? I know we’re not talking about you, dad. But you are getting up there. Is that another gray hair I’m detecting? Soon you’re gonna be wearing diapers—” her playful rambling was cut off by Joel’s sharp and scolding tone cutting through the air like a sharpened knife.

“ELLIE!” He half yelled, cheeks inflamed and face turning and even brighter shade of red.

“I’m only kidding! Well, half kidding! One day you will be wearing diapers, old man.”

Logan laughed, a full on, belly-ache inducing laugh where the corner of his eyes crinkled and his smile lines appeared. “Holy shit. Your kid’s a riot!”

“I’ve been telling him that forever, and he just won’t admit it!” She giggled and gently wrapped her arm around Joel’s shoulder to give him a half hug to which he begrudgingly hugged her back, trying to hide his small grin from being noticed.

“You remind me a lot of…well, an old friend of sorts.” Logan looked down.

Ellie finally found her chance to ruffle Joel’s and seized it before he could stop her. “What was the name of your friend? I’m assuming he’s dead, so rest in peace.”

“Ellie!” Joel softly scolded her, “it’s rude to assume that someone died—”

“Wade Wilson.” Logan said softly, staring down at his empty glass with a sigh.

Ellie’s eyes expanded, blown wide in shock and utter disbelief. She was a comic book nerd, and well—a nerd in general. Perhaps it was just sheer coincidence that this stranger knew a Wade Wilson. Surely, it couldn’t be the Wade Wilson that she immediately was thinking of, right?

“Holy fuck. Please don’t crush my dreams and tell me that I’m wrong, but are you talking about the Wade Wilson as in Deadpool? Dude—are you an Avenger?” Ellie leaned over the bartop in Logan’s direction, voice low in a hushed whisper.

“Kid, I’m the furthest thing from an Avenger.” He said quietly, sinking his weight back against the bartop stool. “But I did know Wade pretty well. The fucker is probably alive, somewhere. He’s like a cockroach that you can never kill.”

“Okay, but if you’re not an Avenger…then what are you?”

“I was an X-Man at one point, but they’re all dead now—because of me.”

“Oh my god, are you—you’re the Wolverine, aren’t you? What in the fuck are you doing here? Is this real life? Someone pinch me right now, because there is no way that Logan fucking Howlett is here in the flesh! Dude, can you show me your claws?!” Ellie asked excitedly and it was Joel’s job to rein her in a bit.

“Alright, kiddo. That’s enough questions, alright? Don’t wanna go and overwhelm him. He can show you his…claws another time. Last thing we want is all these people freaking out and screaming bloody murder, right?” Joel said softly to her in his usual dad tone.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Sorry about that, Logan. I’m just like—a huge fan of you and the comics. I actually still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this is real life. Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. Hope you stick around!” She said sincerely before swiping up her glass of beer that was waiting for her and walked away to a different section of the crowded bar.

“Sorry about my kid. She is a huge fan, and definitely meant no harm by freaking out like that. I hope she wasn’t too invasive.”

“S’alright. There’s no harm done.” Logan reassured him.

Joel tapped his knuckles along the bartop, looking over at his brother first who was now at the other end of the bartop where his wife Maria was sitting. And then he looked at you and finally Logan. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot earlier today and I’m sorry about that. If you don’t got nowhere to go, you should consider staying in town. Sounds like you could be useful, like you said, and my kid would probably kill me if I kicked the Wolverine out for no good reason.”

“I don’t wanna impose, I swear. My plan was to just have a bite to eat and a few drinks and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Logan.” You finally spoke, “you should stay. There’s plenty of room for you here. We’ll have to figure out living arrangements, but in the meantime, you can sleep on our couch?”

The Wolverine’s warm hazel eyes slowly flitted over to you, a soft smile gracing his face before he glanced over at your boyfriend whose jaw was beginning to tick, again.

“Only if your guard dog is alright with that arrangement, sweetheart.”

Joel took a deep breath and released the built up tension that he felt in his shoulders. “The couch is all yours, Logan. We’ll get you out on patrol starting next week. You’ll fit right in.”

And boy, did he fit in.

~~

Logan did more than just fit in, he added a new welcoming dynamic to Jackson and he was an absolute hit with the kids both old and young. (He may or may not have smoked weed with Ellie, Dina and Jesse one night, but no one will ever know the truth)

He looked forward to being on patrol with Joel and Tommy every single day, (sometimes in the evenings). Having a purpose in his life again made him feel complete, and there was that extra perk of getting to kill people—bad guys, every now and then. Logan took numerous bullets for both Miller brothers and he felt this swelling sense of pride in his heart when Joel would go out of his way to tell him that he did a good job out there and sometimes there was even a firm, lingering pat on his shoulder followed by a, thanks for keeping the town safe, Logan. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.

Logan liked to hear those words from Joel’s mouth more than he was willing to admit. Almost as much as he liked coming home to you at the end of the very long and grueling day. Despite his promise to Joel that he wouldn’t try anything on you, he felt that there was nothing wrong with developing a harmless crush on both of his roommates, right?

Well, lucky for the Wolverine, you were beginning to fall down that rabbit hole, too. Especially when Logan would strut around the house shirtless in the mornings while you were getting ready for your day at the barn, ripped abs, resembling glossy freshly baked rolls were on full display paired with that knee-weakening smile that appeared over the rim of his steaming mug of coffee. He’d even accompany you to the barn, spending time with you and the horses till he would saddle up for patrol.

“Joel.” You whispered through the darkness in your shared bedroom.

“This better be goddamn important.” He grumbled tiredly, rolling over so he was facing you and draped his arm across your bare waist, tugging you into his chest so he could pepper your face with affectionate, sleepy kisses. “Thought you said you were too tired for round three, baby.” He drawled against your ear, playfully nipping at the lobe with his teeth.

“Baby, I promise you it’s super important.” You pressed a kiss to the sliver of exposed skin on his neck, throwing your thigh over his hip so if he wanted to, he could slip right into your silky, enticing warmth with ease.

“Mmm. Alright then. Spit it out. What’s on your mind, pretty girl.” He hummed against your skin, rolling his hips languidly into yours, a small grunt slipped past his lips when the head of his cock brushed through your slick folds and dragged upwards across your still sensitive clit.

“Y—you have to promise that you won’t get mad at me, okay?” You gasped softly, biting down on the juncture where his jaw met his neck.

“Baby, if you don’t fuckin’ spit it out right now, I’ll just have to fuck it out of ya.” He said through gritted teeth, reaching between your bodies with his freehand so he could grasp the base of his cock with ease and slowly feed himself into your warm, wet, enveloping walls with zero resistance.

“I want to fuck Logan.” You finally spit it out, waiting for your partner to scold you, but he did the complete opposite and bucked his hips against yours so he was completely bottomed out, stretching you open the same way he did a couple hours ago. “Yeah.” He gruffed out, finally finding your lips in a searing kiss, “know you do.”

Just down the stairs, lounged out on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand and tv remote in the other, Logan was trying his best to distract his brain from what he was hearing upstairs (damn his heightened sense of hearing). For the past 20 minutes he had been listening to you and Joel getting it on, and now he was dealing with a small problem—a rather large problem, actually. That problem being that the crotch section of his jeans were becoming unbearably tight, and even after he popped the button and yanked the zipper down, that wasn’t enough relief.

He let out a frustrated growl, throwing his head back against the couch and brought his freehand up to his forehead, rubbing his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. He was fighting an internal battle of whether he was going to act like a nasty dog and jerk himself off, or fight the urge all together. He fumbled with the remote, turning the tv up to full volume thinking that it would drown your sweet little noises out, and Joel’s manly grunts, but it did jack all and he finally gave in and gently palmed himself through his jeans.

That’s when he heard your voice as clear as day.

I want to fuck Logan

That’s all it took for the last shred of his resistance to fall away at the same rate that he had pulled his cock free, squeezing it firmly in his fist before he pulled his hand back, splitting a glob of saliva onto it and wrapped it back around the base of his cock.

~~

You let out a surprised squeak when Joel bucked his hips against yours, burying himself completely in your warm cunt. You scrambled to find something to grab onto, sinking your nails into his strong biceps when he withdrew his hips halfway before thrusting them forward again.

“Known for awhile that you want to fuck him, baby. Neither of you are great at hiding it either. You should see the way he drinks in your appearance the minute you walk into the goddamn room.” He mumbled against your lips, caging you in his arms when he began to pick up a steady rhythm, listening to the soft squelch of your pussy sucking him in further with each powerful thrust. “Thought about tellin’ Logan that he should just make a move, but I wanted to discuss it with you first.”

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned freely, lips falling away from the kiss briefly before finding one another again like two magnets. “So, you’re okay with it then?”

“Fuck yeah, I am. But under one condition.” He stilled his hips, reaching his freehand back down between your connected bodies so he could play with your clit at his leisure.

Your body twitched in his arms from the sudden stimulation and that familiar tingling feeling that was blooming deep in the pit of your stomach as your walls clenched tightly around him, squeezing his cock like a vice. “What’s the condition?”

“I get to watch him fuck you. If y’all wanna get acquainted and fool around beforehand, that’s fine with me, but I get to watch him fuck you.” He rasped and in one swift movement, he maneuvered you onto his lap, cock still buried deep inside of you. The kiss was broken briefly so that he could gaze up at you through hooded eyes. “And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even wanna join in. Jus’ am curious to see how well you take another man’s cock, baby. M’sure Logan is gonna be thrilled.” He grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh with his thick fingers. “The way I see it, It’s a win-win situation for everyone involved.” He let out a sharp breath when you instinctively rolled your hips against his, foreheads pressed tightly together.

“I fucking love you so much, Joel.” You whispered against his lips, carding your fingers through his hair and tugged on the roots gently so his head was tilted back slightly. You could feel his smirk form in the sloppy kiss, and the way he tugged you closer, chests pressed together.

“I love you too, baby. Jus’ wanna see my girl happy s’all. And if fucking the goddamn Wolverine makes you happy, then so be it.”

Logan could hear every squeak from the old mattress, the wooden frame smacking the wall in sync with the heavy weight of Joel’s thrusts, and he could even hear the wet, squelch of your pussy, and skin slapping on skin. The mental images he created in his mind spurred his wrist to move faster, jerking his cock like a horny teenager that had stumbled across the adult magazine section in a grocery store for the first time.

He gnawed on his lower lip till it began to bleed and then healed over immediately after. His lashes fluttered, muscles growing taught and veins bulging the closer he got to cumming in his fist. He bit down on the back of his hand, hard enough to draw blood, and the stinging pain mixed with pleasure sent him right over the edge with stars dotting his vision before he slumped back against the couch, cock spent and growing soft.

“The fucker probably can’t wait to bury his face between your thighs, inhale your scent and eat your sweet pussy like a man starved. Bet it’s been so fuckin’ long for him, that he’ll cream his pants the second he even catches a sliver of your skin.”

“Well, bub, you got one thing right, that’s for damn sure. I can’t wait to bury my face between your girl's thighs and eat her sweet pussy like a man starved.” Logan chuckled to himself, letting out a content sigh as he glanced down at the mess of his release coating his hand, and his happy trail.

He reached over the coffee table for his almost abandoned glass of whiskey and quickly downed the rest before snatching up one of the cigars Joel had so kindly gotten for him and a box of matches. And just as he lit the end of the cigar, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table so he could get more comfortable, his ears were blessed with the high pitched sounds of you orgasming. “Fuck.” He nearly groaned, cock twitching pathetically at the pornographic sound you emitted.

~~

The sun had not even begun to rise in the sky, but there was a chill in the air, a telling sign that fall was on the horizon and the changing of seasons. The early morning light was softer now compared to the summer months, and bathed Joel’s exposed back in a warm, golden glow.

You curled your body around his, hugging him like a koala when he went to untangle his legs from your own. He let out a throaty chuckle, raspy and sticky with prior slumber when you tighten your grip around him.

He blindly reached behind, finding your bare thigh and gave it an affectionate squeeze and gentle pat with his calloused palm. “C’mon, baby.” He rasped, “gotta pee, and then I’m gonna go find Tommy’n get an early start.”

“Stay in bed.”

“S’temptin.’” he mused, rolling over with a soft grunt so he was facing you finally.

“It’s fucking freezing in here, Joel. You’re my personal heater, and I forbid you from leaving.”

“Mmm.” He nuzzled his face against your pulse point, inhaling your familiar scent with a content sigh. “Could always ask Logan to take my place…” He trails off.

“Are you trying to make me soaking wet right now?” You teased.

You could feel him grinning against your skin as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss at the juncture where your jaw met your neck. “Why? Is it working?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You said coyly, finding his hand to slowly drag it between your bare thighs, but he was acting stubborn; the gall he had.

“No can do, my little minx.” He retracted his touch from you all together, finding an opening to slip out of your warm embrace and swung his legs over the side of the bed before pushing himself up. You could hear a faint crack in his lower back the moment he stretched his arms above his head, and he cheekily pivoted his hips to the side just so you could enjoy the little show and dreamily watch the way that his heavy cock swung between his thighs.

Letting out a groan that was nothing short of frustrating, you rolled over onto your stomach, kicking your legs up behind your head languidly with your chin propped in your palms. “Can’t believe you’re gonna choose your brother over me, and my drooling pussy, Joel.” You said with a noticeable pout.

He bent down, grabbing ahold of his discarded shirt from the night before and pulled it over his head and shoulders, obstructing your view of his broad chest and soft, kissable tummy. “You and your droolin’ pussy will live, sweetheart.” He took a few steps towards the bed, leaning down to brush his lips against yours in a sweet peck.

“Actually, I don’t think we will. I think we’re both gonna die a truly excruciating death if you don’t be a man and take care of the mess I’m making in your sheets.” You mumbled against his lips, attempting to deepen the kiss further, but he swiftly pulled back, brows crinkled in amusement as he observed your pout of frustration, and that yearning look glossed over in your eyes before his gaze traveled down the curve of your spine and between your thighs.

He chuckled in amusement when you arch your back and spread your legs further just so he could see how swollen and puffy your pussy looked from this angle, dripping with need, desperate to be played with, to be filled.

“Put your pussy away, you preening slut.” He said teasingly, not meaning it in an overtly degrading way, and simply just a jest; all in good fun.

“Fiiine.” You sighed in defeat, dropping your weight from your elbows and plopped down, face first into his pillow dramatically.

“Poor baby.” He cooed and leaned down, pressing his lips to the side of your head. “I’ll let Logan know that you and your needy little pussy will be waiting for him.”

“Go piss already, old man.” You grumbled into the pillow.

“Goin’ straight for the jugular, huh?” He chuckled and grabbed the end of the sheet, draping it over you gently before he pivoted on his heel and padded over to the attached bathroom.

~~

Logan was still passed out on the couch when Joel crept downstairs, fully dressed now. There was the faint stench of tobacco, musk, and oh—

Joel didn’t mean to look, he truly didn’t—but it was staring him right in the fucking face, and immediately sent a hot, red flush rising up his cheeks and sweat began to pool at the nape of his neck.

Logan stirred in his heavy slumber, one arm propping up behind his head as a makeshift pillow, bicep muscles bulging even in a relaxed state. His freehand slowly drifted southwards, brushing against the protruding vein on his lower abdomen and trailed right down to the soft, dark, enticing hair on his happy trail.

“I’m fuckin’ losin’ it, I swear.” Joel muttered to himself, scraping his own hand down his face before he quickly made a departure for the kitchen.

He was careful to be quiet, as he didn’t want to disturb the other man while he prepared himself a steaming mug of coffee, one of his many guilty pleasures that he never believed he would get to indulge in again.

cue me breaking the 4th wall. I know what you’re all thinking. Gianna, are Joel and Logan going to fuck yet? No, my lovely readers, I’m going to continue to edge you just a little more 🙂‍↕️ (and by a little more I mean you have to wait till chapter three 😔 but don’t worry! The sexual tension is there, and it’s simmering, but first, some angst!

P.S. if you read this in Deadpool’s voice, I fucking love u and we’re gonna make out now.

Okay, that’s all, folks! Back to the gay pining!

The Wolverine began to mumble in his sleep, not just fragmented words, but names—names of those he once knew, those he lost. The nightmares were never-ending, a constant reminder of the past that could never be undone. Even after teaming up with Wade, and saving the world, Logan still would think about the X-Men. That’s the funny thing about trauma, it never actually goes away, you just learn how to mask it as time goes on.

“Howlett?” Joel hesitantly said from the threshold of the kitchen, footsteps padding towards the living room.

Logan shot up from the couch, with an animalistic yell emitting from his throat. His eyes were wide, sweat pooled down his bare chest and his claws unsheathed with that familiar metal swoosh. He blinked a rapidly, registering where he was before he fell back against the couch and retracted his claws as he caught his breath.

“Logan?…Y’alright in there?”

Fuck.

“Jus’ fine, Miller. Sorry for startling you.” Logan muttered, voice raspy with sleep. It dawned upon him then that last night, after he—well, got himself off, he passed out before he had a chance to tuck his cock back into his jeans.

Guy must really fuckin’ think I’m an animal.

“Are ya decent?”

So, he did see? Fuck.

“Jus’ a minute.”

Joel waited till he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled up, and the metallic clink of a belt before he made his presence known, leaning against the opening of the kitchen with two mugs of coffee now.

He observes the other man silently, watching as he slowly sits up, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes, taking a deep lungful of air before exhaling.

“You’re shaking.” Joel states the obvious and hesitantly approaches the couch, sitting down against the side of it.

Thanks, captain obvious.” Logan snorts under his breath, fighting the urge to grin at the other man’s obvious hesitation.

“Those things have a mind of their own, huh?” Joel refers to the metal claws that were once protruding out of Logan’s knuckles.

“Somethin’ like that.” He eyes the second mug of coffee before finally meeting Joel’s gaze. “That for me?”

“What? Oh—the coffee.” Joel feels a flush creeping on as he holds the mug of coffee towards Logan almost as a peace offering. “Yeah.”

Logan reaches for the mug, meeting Joel’s hand halfway before taking it from him. Their fingers brush, and he tries to not notice how fast Joel moves to retract his hand.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Joel’s response is unintentionally gruff sounding. He sighs, taking a sip from his own mug.

“Do you have them often?”

The Wolverine raises a brow, confusion etched over his face. “What?”

“The nightmares.” Joel clarifies, “do you have them often?”

“Every night.” Logan said just above a whisper. His eyes cast downwards towards the mug in his hands, an unreadable expression crosses his face.

“Well, we got somethin’ in common after all.”

Logan looks up in surprise, studying the other man for a moment. He wants to ask questions, but he doesn’t want to invade Joel’s privacy or pry where he’s not wanted, let alone welcomed.

“Sun ain’t even up yet, bub. Where ya off to?”

“Patrol with Tommy, once I find him. Wanna get an early start.”

Logan doesn’t even think twice before he starts to swing his legs over the side of the couch to stand up, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he feels a warm, calloused palm press down against his bare chest. The movement shocks both men, and the Wolverine falls into submission, sinking back down against the couch pillows that were already crushed under his weight.

“You’ve done well out there, Howlett. Take the day off, and keep my girl company instead.”

Don’t move your hand, bub. Keep it right there. Is what Logan really wants to say.

“Y’sure, Miller?” He tests the waters for any possible ulterior motive that Joel may have.

Much to Logan’s disappointment, Joel slowly removes his hand from his chest, bringing it down to his side, fingers flexing and then curling into a fist as if he’s in disbelief over what he just did.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Between you and me, there ain’t no hidin’ your attraction to her. And well—seems like she’s takin’ a liking to you as well.” Joel said with a light chuckle, bringing his mug back up to his lips and took a quick sip. “And seeing as you won’t grow a pair and jus’ make a move, I figured I’d give you my permission.”

“I ain’t worthy of her, Joel. That’s your girl. If I’ve overstepped—”

“Yeah?” Joel leaned in, close enough that from this angle, Logan could make out every little detail on the other man’s face. “Guess you don’t wanna hear how she’s upstairs right now, leakin’ all over my goddamn sheets like a bitch in heat, huh?”

“And you want me…to—take care of it?” He chooses his words carefully.

“I know you ain’t all that innocent, Logan. You don’t gotta hide that shit from me. You want her? She’s all yours. But, a word of advice, if I may. Let her come to you. She enjoys the chase more than she likes to be chased. Play coy with her. That one lives for a good fuckin’ game of cat and mouse.”

“And this isn’t a trap? Yeah, of course I want your girl. I’d be a goddamn fool if I didn’t.”

“It ain’t a trap. I’m appeasing to both sides, Logan. My only condition is that you can’t fuck her—not yet, at least. I want to be there to watch. Everything else, however, is on the table, so do with that as you will.” He finished off his coffee and pushed himself off the side of the couch. Before the Wolverine could even respond, he had one last thing to say before he would take his leave.

“Oh, and Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll know if you fucked her without me.”

My panties just disappeared…how did that happen? AND my rose toy just flew into my hand like Thors hammer! Weird…

~~

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[kokomyass]

Genshin headcannons ☆ Traveller finding out that you are in a relationship with genshin characters pt.3

Genshin x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!

featuring: Itto, Tighnari, Lyney

synopsis: in which, traveller and paimon find out you are an ✨️ITEM✨️!!!

Notes: for itto you are part of the L/N (last name) clan, for tighnari you are a forest ranger and for lyney you are his wonderful assistant!!

a/n: thank you anon for the request I enjoy writing these and it makes me giggle with I write them because I feel like I can imagine them happening....anyways enjoy lovlies!!

Itto

The Traveller and Paimon had found themselves in Inazuma again, this time just for some fun.

To their suprise one of the first people they encountered was the infamous Arataki Gang having what seemed to be a meeting in the middle of nowhere making an absolute ruckus with Shinobu stood with her arms crossed wishing she was somewhere else.

"Alright, gang! Today's meeting is super important! We gotta decide what to buy for our new, amazing, drop dead gorgeous, special member....AKA my girlfriend!" Arataki Itto's voice echoed.

"Well, if it isn't Bull Chucker! Fancy seeing you hear...making a LOT of noise as usual...." Itto turned his head and noticed the Traveller and Paimon making their way to where he was stood, a beam making its way on his face.

"Well, if it's isn't my amigos, the Traveller and little Lavender Melon Paimon!!" he boomed out.

"Hello, Traveller and Paimon it is nice to see you once again." Kuki said calmly in contrast to Itto's voice.

"Hey guys! Nice to see you too! What are you all up too? You seem awfully excited Itto....well more excited than usual..." Paimon asked with confusion.

"Well I am glad you asked, we have a newest member who also happens to be-"

Before Itto could finish his sentence, you approached, holding a pot that steamed with a delicious aroma.

You had a confident yet gentle smile on your face as Itto looked at you mesmerised. The Traveller definitely didn't miss this romantic gaze.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone," you said, setting the pot down. "I brought food for everyone too eat!"

"Y/N! You're just in time! Everyone, meet Y/N from the L/N clan AND my girlfriend. She has joined the Arataki gang to be in charge of making meals, since she loves to cook for people!"

"Hello all, nice to meet you. I have heard so much about you! All good things don't worry!" You chuckle as Paimon and The traveller looked back and forth between you and Itto looking stunned.

"The L/N clan?!?! How on earth did you pull a member of the rich, powerful and famous L/N clan? I suppose your good at some things...."

"HUH?! Shut it Lavender Melon!! The way we met isn't important-"

"Oh, it's rather romantic, don't you think Itto!" you wrapped your arm around Itto's after interrupting him and resting your head on his arm, as he sweatdropped.

"He broke into my residence to get some flowers, but I caught him and then we got chatting and obviously I fell in love with him!"

"WHAT?!?!?" Paimon and The traveller shouted as you and Kuki laughed and Itto couldn't look up.

"What can I say....I am a charisma king, I must say!"

Tighnari

Despite being in a relationship with the smartest person you know, his knowledge clearly didn't rub off on you because you felt like you were getting dumber by the day.

It all started when Tighnari had asked you and Collei to go identify some mushrooms to distinguish if the were edible or not to update the Avidya Forest Survival Guide.

After seeing a mushrooms that 'had to be edible' in your terms you decided to take a bite. Whilst the flavour was lovely to start off the with dizziness that came after was a clear indicator that it was probably poisonous

"Collei! Who is this and what's going on?!" you see through your lidded eyes a high pitched flying fairy and someone who looks like they are from out of Teyvat.

"Traveller, Paimon! Perfect timing! There is no time to explain but please help me take her to Master Tighnari!!"

Next thing you know you pass out completely and wake up with Tighnari sat on your bed checking your temperature and checking for any rashes.

"Tigh...nari??" you mumble reaching for him as he holds your hand.

"Ah Y/N, you are awake. Now what did I tell you and what have I always told you about the mushrooms you eat? What made you think eating this mushroom would benefit you! You have to listen to me or worse things could happen and you-" He stopped rambling and let out a big sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry, Nari...I promise I won't do it again..." you were now sat up looking guilty as he engulfed you in a hug that you reciprocated.

"Don't worry, just....be careful. I don't want to lose you."

"AHEM!!! Sorry to interrupt but the are still 2 very confused people stood here!!" Paimon burst out.

"My apologies, this Y/N a forest ranger and my girlfriend, she also takes care of Collei from time to time. Y/N, this is the Traveller and Paimon that I have told you about." Tighnari casually said patting your head as he got up to go to his table.

"Hey guys! It is a pleasure to meet you! I apologise for the circumstances...I can be rather clumsy at times..." you chuckle slightly as you sweatdropped.

"Nice to meet you too! I hope we become close friends! We didn't know you had a girlfriend Tighnari....it must be refreshing since you are opposites"

"Quite! It Master Tighnari says no about something I can go to Master Y/N and she will say yes!!" Collei happily exposes you and herself as you sweatdrop and Tighnari's head snaps back.

"COLLEI!!" both you and Tighnari shout as the Traveller and Paimon sit there chuckling.

Lyney

It was very dark at night and the Traveller and Paimon had just finished doing a commission for Katheryne and decided that the weather was nice enough to go on a scenic walk.

What they didn't expect to see on a cliff was a figure who looked like Lyney and another figure opposite him sat on a picnic blanket.

After some consideration they both mutually decided to approach you both.

What they didn't know is that you and Lyney were on a date, something you barely went on due to being busy. Lyney was the most romantic person you know and he always knew how to show you magic that you had never seen before that sent your heart aflame.

"My dearest rainbow rose, it pains me we cannot spend time together as romantically as we used to...when we are at work we are forced to keep is hidden..."

He holds your hands tightly and when he removes them a rainbow rose was in one hand and a box of expensive chocolates was in your other's you embrace each other.

"Uhhh, I hope we aren't interrupting anything...." Paimon suddenly speaks up scaring you both as you jolt away from each other pretending nothing happened.

"O-oh Traveller and Paimon!! What are you doing here?? I mean nice to see you again...." Lyney chuckles nervously as he hadn't intended for anyone to see him and you. You relationship was secret after all.

"Nice to see you too....but we should be asking what you are doing here embracing a woman!! And why do you look suspicious?!" Paimon laid all the questions on him, he let out a sigh giving up.

"Well, this woman here is Y/N, my personal assistant and also....my girlfriend. We have been keeping our relationship secret because it's a personal thing we don't want others to see."

"Hello Traveller and Paimon! It's lovely to meet you! Lyney has nothing but praises for you both!" you speak up smiling warmly.

"Hi there Y/N, nice to meet you too!! We are shocked you have a girlfriend Lyney considering how secretive you are...."

Lyney let out a heartly laugh intertwining his hand with yours.

"Well, I too would've said that 1 year ago but Y/N managed to steal a magicians heart, the hardest trick of all." Lyney looks at you lovingly as you look back at him lovingly too.

"Well, you guys are so wholesome and sweet, we are in support of your secret-"

"CLICK!!"

Everyones head snapped around to see Charlotte the Journalist taking pictures.

"CHARLOTTE NO!!" everyone shouted as The Traveller and Paimon sais their farewells and quickly caught her making sure she deleted those photos for good.

~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~~•○☆○•~

a/n: thank you once again for the amazing request and if anyone wants anymore of these or anything help lemme know and I'll try my best!! love you all 💜🌙💜🌙💜🌙

[theobsessivesideblog]

Hook Where it Hurts

Astarion finds himself Experiencing Emotions™ after a battle takes a turn for the worse.

Warnings: violence/injury, death, angst BUT happy ending I promise

—————————————————————

Your time in the Underdark had been relatively uneventful, all things considered. Sure there were Minotaurs, the occasional bulette, and exploding mushrooms, but there was something strangely beautiful about the alien landscape. The myconids were a friendly, if odd and slightly bloodthirsty bunch. Your conversation with Omeluum had proved enlightening, and trade with Blurg and Derryth had garnered you some useful items. Overall you couldn’t bring yourself to regret following Halsin’s advice to take the subterranean path to the Shadow-Cursed lands. 

You set up camp at the Myconid colony, heading out at first light (or at least what you assumed was first light without the actual sun to confirm) to begin your trek towards the lake Sovereign Spaw had pointed you toward. An hour into your walk a glow appeared in the distance, lighting up the gloom of the cavernous landscape. 

“I say, that can’t be… I do believe that may be a Sussur tree!” Gail exclaimed from behind you. “Powerful things, and rare, uniquely capable of completely nullifying magical forces, just fascinating!” he continued, eyes alight at the prospect of examining one up close. 

“Sussur… that sounds familiar,” Karlach pondered. 

“Ah! Right you are my fiery friend, there were instructions in the village about making a weapon with the bark! That would likely prove to be a powerful tool, we should certainly take a look.” 

You gazed towards the tree, comparing its location with the heading you had gotten from Spaw. In all likelihood you would end up passing nearby, may as well go on purpose. 

“Seems like it won’t be too much of a detour,” you announced, glancing around the group. “All in favor?”

“I’d never say no to a new kick-ass weapon,” Karlach grinned. 

“That’s two for, Astarion?” you asked, looking over towards the rogue.

“I doubt our resident magician will shut up about it until we pay a visit, so fine. Let’s go traipsing through the monster-infested dark to look at the magic tree,” Astarion said with a dramatic eye roll. 

“Anti-magic, technically, you see the—“ Gale’s chatter came to an abrupt halt as Astarion shot him a withering glance. “Right, yes, um. Shall we?” 

——————— 

You had to admit, the Sussur tree was breathtaking. Far larger than you had initially realized, clearly ancient and powerful. You glanced over to see your companions’ reactions, breath catching as your eyes met Astarion’s. His pale skin was nearly pearlescent in the ethereal glow, the blue light making his red eyes darker than usual. He stared back, lips pulling into a smirk, and a shiver of desire ran down your spine as he began prowling towards you. You’d been playing this game of cat and mouse for days, taking turns taunting and tempting each other and you were curious to see who would break first.

A movement behind Astarion’s shoulder broke you out of your reverie, eyes catching on a monstrous creature slowly beginning to descend toward your troupe from the raised roots of the tree. Your face paled and you saw Astarion’s brow furrow in your periphery as he registered that he had lost your attention, turning to see what had distracted you. He stiffened as he caught sight of the beast, silently reaching to retrieve an arrow while you hissed quietly towards Gale and Karlach in an attempt to get their attention. Karlach looked your way and you subtly gestured towards the creature as it crept closer to the group, trying to hold back the urge to laugh as she reached out and smacked Gale’s arm, interrupting his lecture on the properties of the blossoms.  

A few more wordless glances between the four of you had everyone subtly moving into position, preparing for what was sure to be a short battle. You glanced across the clearing, locking eyes with each of your companions before giving a tight nod as all of you attacked at once. The creature let out a shriek as it was barraged by both metal and magic, falling from its root bridge and hitting the ground below with a sickening crunch. 

As the adrenaline faded from your system and you walked forward to observe the corpse you were nearly disappointed by how easily the beast had fallen. Not that you ever wanted to get your ass kicked but you had certainly expected that a monster with as many teeth and claws as this one would’ve put up a bit more of a fight. Karlach had turned away with a dissatisfied pout on her lips as she sheathed her weapon and Astarion had already started to wander off to investigate the rest of the cave as you gently nudged the cooling body on the ground with the tip of your boot. It was grotesque up close, a bird-like skeletal face filled with vicious teeth and enormous, razor-sharp hooks protruding from the end of each arm in place of hands. Beside you Gale was surveying the corpse with a strangely joyous expression.

“What a fascinating beast! We got quite lucky, they’re exceptional hunters, certainly wouldn’t want to run into one of these unprepared! They’re called Hook Horrors!” he announced gleefully to no one in particular.

“Did someone say something about whores?” Astarion called from across the cavern. Karlach snorted loudly as she and Gale began making their way over towards him and you rolled your eyes as your lips curled into a smile.

“Yes, Star, Gale has deeply insulted me,” you called back sarcastically. “You may need to come defend my honor! In fact, I–”

You cut off abruptly as a shriek pierced through the air, echoing off the hard rock. You all whipped toward the sound, weapons coming back to the ready as another hook horror climbed out from behind a patch of roots close to your three companions. As you watched it emerge you distractedly thought that it would be nice to go back to fighting above ground again. The way sound bounced around the rocks always made it sound like there was something behind you, and some paranoid instinct had you sending a cursory glance back over your shoulder to calm your nerves. 

You froze in place, realizing your fears had been well founded as another hook horror silently emerged from around the corner of the cavern wall and leapt towards you. You barked out a startled curse and jumped back as it took a swing at you. The first horror may have fallen easily enough against the four of you, but your companions were locked in battle on the other side of the cavern and you were well aware that a one-on-one fight was one you wouldn’t win. 

You kept your eyes locked on the creature as you began backing your way across the cave, hoping you could get within range of your party before it lost patience and struck. Based on the sounds the other monster was emitting it wouldn’t be a threat for much longer. You tightened your hold on your weapon, preparing to strike as you crept back another step, heart skipping as the rock you had stepped on shifted underneath your boot. You glanced down for a split second, trying to find your footing, a sense of dread filling you as you saw the hook horror jump into motion in your peripheral vision. 

The hook drove into your side and you screamed. Pain the likes of which you’d never felt before tore through you as the hook horror yanked its arm across your abdomen, tearing through your stomach. You thought you heard someone shout, but they sounded a million miles away as you collapsed to your knees before the beast, your sight dimming around the edges. You vaguely registered a flash of blades and a wet thump as the hook horror’s head hit the ground before your vision was taken over by Astarion’s panicked visage. His hands gripped your face, feeling unnaturally warm against your cheeks as the world faded away.  

“No no no, you can’t die, get UP damn you!” he shouted, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood from the jagged cut across your midsection even as a small voice in the back of his mind told him it was too late. His shaking hands were covered in your blood but he had never found it less appealing, appetite long gone as he stared at your unnaturally pale face. “Please, my sweet, don’t do this to me,” he pleaded, vision clouding as his eyes filled with tears. He saw a red blur on his left as Karlach kneeled down beside him and he instinctively curled around you protectively, arms gently slipping around your back as he clutched your unmoving form against his chest.

“Astarion, we need–”  

“Give me a healing potion. Now.” he ordered, voice dangerously low.

“It’s too late, Astarion. We need to get her body back–”

“Don’t say it like that,” he growled shakily. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to steady himself but choking on the scent of your blood in the air. “A resurrection scroll then,” he demanded, glaring in Gale’s direction.

“I… it won’t work. The tree–”

Astarion snarled out a curse and pressed his forehead against your frigid cheek, desperately trying to contain the sob attempting to claw its way out of him. 

“We need to get her to camp, Astarion,” Karlach repeated gently, a small line of steam rising from where a tear had just rolled her cheek. “We need Shadowheart. I can carry–”

“No,” he murmured, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face with a trembling hand before adjusting one of his arms beneath your knees and standing with you cradled against him. “I’ve got her.” 

———————

They were farther from camp than Astarion had realized, though perhaps it only felt that way because he had spent the entire walk staring at your lifeless face. He felt numb by the time they arrived, hardly hearing Karlach shout for Shadowheart as they passed the first of the tents. In the back of his mind he was aware that their other companions had gathered around them frantically asking questions, but the words didn’t register and he continued forward without acknowledging any of them. He walked to his tent in a trance, gingerly setting you down on his bedroll and kneeling at your side as his shaking hands tried to arrange your limp body into a more comfortable configuration.

“What in the hells happened?” Shadowheart snapped as Karlach pulled her roughly into the tent. He should answer, should try to explain, but he was frozen kneeling by your side, unable to pull his attention away from your unblinking eyes.

“She- she was-” Karlach bit back a sob, trying to catch her breath. “We got caught off guard. She was alone. She shouldn’t have been alone,” Karlach choked out, dissolving into tears. Shadowheart hurried to your side and knelt across from Astarion, immediately beginning to unfasten the straps on your armor and peeling the bloodied metal away from your skin.

“We need to get her cleaned up so I can see what I'm doing. Astarion, can you fetch me some water and clean washcloths?” she asked, continuing to remove your ruined clothing. When he remained unmoving she looked up to where he sat, his gaze unwaveringly focused on the brutal cut across your torso. 

“Astarion,” she repeated softly, waiting as he slowly drug his gaze up to meet her eyes. “I swear to you I will do everything in my power to fix this, but I need your help.” She paused, waiting until Astarion gave a small nod of acknowledgement to rattle off the things she needed, her attention returning to your still form as Astarion rose and darted around his tent gathering what she had requested. He returned a heartbeat later, depositing the items at her side as she instructed him to wet a cloth and begin wiping away as much blood as he could. 

She began chanting a prayer as he worked, hovering her hands over your sternum while he continued to gently clean your skin. Your blood had been a gift once, a delight. Now he shuddered as he attempted to ring out the bloodied rag in his hand, barely fighting the urge to retch as it dripped from his hands into the reddened bowl of water at his side.

A light sparked in Shadowheart’s hands, warm and radiant, and Astarion stopped his work, dropping the stained cloth and gently reaching out with trembling fingers to take hold of your hand. The light in her palms grew as she focused, directing its power towards you. A glowing beam split from the whole and snaked downwards, weaving through the jagged edges of your wound and drawing them together while the remainder of the light floated upward, hovering over your heart. She continued chanting, her eyes drifting closed in concentration as the glowing orb started to lower, dimming as it sunk through your skin and into your chest. The room grew silent as Shadowheart completed the incantation and lowered her hands, looking you over carefully. 

“Did it… did it work?” Karlach whispered. “Is it supposed to take this long? Why isn’t she–”

Your chest rose as you gasped in air, the breath immediately turning to a cough at the uncomfortable stretch in your lungs. The air tasted of iron and magic and you frowned, trying to open your eyes to observe your surroundings but surprised to find your eyelids heavy and uncooperative. Cool fingers brushed against your face, smoothing away the furrow in your brow and you instinctively relaxed at the familiar touch. 

“All is well, darling,” you heard Astarion whisper, voice sounding oddly constricted. “Rest now.” 

You were still confused, still couldn't remember how you’d gotten here or what had happened. It felt as if something important had occurred, surely you shouldn’t sleep now. You heard the soft murmur of voices around you, a strained chuckle, a soft sniffle. You frowned again, struggling once more to open your eyes and earning an exasperated sigh from the vampire beside you. 

“Please, pet,” he breathed, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Just sleep.” 

Your sense of unease fell away as Astarion began gently running his fingers through your hair. You felt him press another soft kiss against your forehead and relaxed into him, allowing yourself to drift off in his arms.

———————

The second Shadowheart had given the all clear Astarion had insisted everyone leave his tent. It was far too crowded and he wouldn’t have them waking you up when you were clearly in no condition to face their fussing. Even as he anchored himself in the sound of your steady heartbeat he still felt restless and off-balance, hands flitting over your sleeping form looking for something more to do. 

He felt ridiculous. You were here in front of him, healed and whole, and that should be the end of it. So why in the hells were his hands still trembling as he ensured your blankets were tucked around you? Why did his chest ache uncomfortably every time he caught a leftover whiff of your blood in the air? 

He huffed out a frustrated breath and sat on the ground beside you, staring at your sleeping face warily. This had never been part of his plan. He was never supposed to… care. Two centuries of distancing himself and building walls and somehow you had just waltzed right past his defenses and made yourself at home. He let out a defeated sigh and reached over, extracting your hand from the blankets to weave your fingers together with his. His gaze drifted to the steady rise and fall of your breathing and he found himself matching your pace, the tightly wound coil in his chest finally starting to loosen as you let out a soft snore. 

Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he could deal with figuring out why that sound made him smile. Tomorrow he could obsess over how even just holding your hand made his whole body feel warmer. Tomorrow he could deal with the fact that in over 200 years of life he’d never before been as completely and utterly terrified as he had been today. For now, though, he would indulge. For tonight he would just let himself have this, whatever ‘this’ was. He closed his eyes and lifted your hand to his face, gently brushing his lips across your knuckles as he settled in to watch over you until morning. 

———————

The passage of time in the Underdark still confused you. You woke to the same darkness you had fallen asleep in, groggily wondering what time it was and how long you had been in bed. Your mouth was dry and your head was pounding. Had you been drinking? That would certainly explain why you couldn’t remember how you had gotten here. As unappealing as getting up sounded, you were parched and you couldn’t stay here forever. You hoisted yourself up and froze as pain suddenly lanced through you, your vision flickering and arms giving out as you whimpered and fell back toward your pillow only to be caught by a pair of cold, pale arms. 

“I wouldn’t recommend moving just yet, darling,” Astarion said, looking down at you with a worried frown on his face as he lowered you gently back to the bedroll. “Shadowheart did as much as she could last night but it took a lot out of her to bring you back. You’re not going anywhere until she’s gotten a chance to check on you again.” He leaned across you, determinedly avoiding meeting your eyes as he made sure your pillow was adequately fluffed. You saw a slight tremor run through him and heard a catch in his breath before he stood abruptly and walked across the tent, silently pouring you a glass of water from the pitcher in the corner.

“Bring me… back?” you questioned. Astarion stilled, jaw clenching as you took him in. His normally flawlessly tousled hair was tangled as if he had been running his hands through it and streaks of blood threaded through the white locks. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked even paler than normal, nearly translucent in the dim light. Your eyes flitted down to his wrinkled, untucked shirt and then around the tent, catching on the blood-soaked pile of clothes and armor to the side of the entrance and the red-stained towels laying by a bowl of water next to the bedroll. A dim memory flashed through your mind: a tree, an ambush, excruciating pain, and then… nothing. 

“Oh.” you whispered, exhaling shakily as you felt your chest constrict, breaths turning quick and shallow as the air seemed to thin. Astarion was by your side in an instant, one hand smoothing back your hair while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“It’s alright, darling, just breathe. You’re safe now.” he murmured, continuing to stroke your hair as your breathing calmed. He let out a tremulous sigh and closed his eyes, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. “It’s alright,” he repeated even more quietly, sounding almost as if he were talking to himself, pressing against you for a moment before inhaling sharply and pulling away.

“Shit, you’re in pain, aren’t you?” he said, looking you over with worried eyes and immediately moving to stand. “I’ll get Shadowheart, she said she’d come by when she woke but surely she’s had enough sleep by now and–” 

“Wait, Star, I… can you just stay here with me for a moment?” you asked in a small voice. Warmth spread through him at your request and he obliged immediately, lowering himself to sit at your side and gently taking your hand in his. You sat in companionable silence for a moment, studying his profile as he stared at your interlaced fingers. Up close the bags beneath his eyes were even more pronounced and you frowned, gently extricating your hand from his to touch his cheek. He leaned into your palm and placed a kiss against the inside of your wrist, eyes drifting closed as he basked in the warmth of your touch.

“Have you rested at all, Astarion?” you questioned. “You look exhausted.” 

He huffed a laugh and cracked open an eye to look at your face. 

“I’m not sure you want to get into comparing looks right now, darling. You’re even paler than me at the moment,” he chuckled, eyes closing once again as he leaned further into your touch, a teasing grin spread across his face. “I assure you, however you may think I look, you look ten times worse.” 

“Hm, that’s not too bad I suppose,” you smirked. “Ten times worse than you is still at least three times better than the average person.” 

Astartion barked out a surprised laugh and opened his eyes to look at you again, something in them softening as he saw your gentle smile. 

“Whoever would’ve thought math could be so romantic,” he murmured, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss against your lips. He raised a hand to brush a stray hair off your forehead and his smile faded, brow furrowing as his gaze met yours with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Please don’t scare me like that again, my dear,” he breathed. “I’m- I don’t-” he sighed in frustration at the mess of emotions in his chest, hardly able to remember the last time his words had failed him so completely. 

“Don’t want to deal with this group of weirdos all by yourself?” you teased gently. He grinned back at you, gratitude in his eyes for not pushing him to collect his thoughts just yet. 

“Precisely that,” he chuckled, the tension leaving his shoulders. 

“Well I’m not going anywhere,” you said, smiling softly at him. “Also I wasn’t kidding before, you look like shit. You really should get some rest.” 

“Hm,” Astarion hummed mischievously, narrowing his eyes. “I would, but you see someone went and bled all over my bedroll. Adept though I may be at washing out blood stains it’s a rather thick fabric, it will take a while to dry back out. I may need to stay with… someone… for a day or two. Or three. Maybe more,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively as you huffed out a laugh. 

“You’re incorrigible,” you replied, grinning up at him and rolling your eyes. “I suppose it does seem that I’ve made rather a mess of your tent though…”

“You certainly have,” he murmured, shifting to hover over you, slowly kissing his way along your jaw.

“And it would only be fair to let you bunk with the cleanest person in camp…”

“Mmhmm…” he hummed, kissing closer and closer to your lips.

“And I’m sure Gale wouldn’t mind letting you crash with him–”

“Excuse me??” he crowed, pulling back indignantly as you burst out laughing below him. He scowled playfully and shook his head at you in feigned displeasure. “You wicked little thing,” he chuckled, leaning back down and finally pressing his lips to yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever it is,” you smirked, pulling him back to you for another kiss, “I'm sure I'll like it.” 

[heyhiwhatsupdude]

Here’s a dumb thing I wrote enjoy. Astarion x Reader :3

(You were in a particular rough battle, one that ended in Withers needing to resurrect you, and Astarion is not happy)

His eyes are dark as life jolts back into your body. No longer are you in the cave in the Underdark where your life was torn from you, but lying in Astarion’s arms in a camp amidst glowing mushrooms. Crowded around you are your other companions, a mix of worry and relief hanging in their expressions. As you try to sit up, Astarion gently guides you.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks softly. You nod and start to stand up, stretching your recently replaced soul throughout all of your limbs, trying to make it fit back where it once had. Karlach extends a hand and helps you to your feet.

“Thought we lost you there, soldier,” she says, a weak laugh creeping out behind her words. “Fortunately for you this guy is better than us at healing.” She gestures over her shoulder at Withers, who seems rather uninterested in the whole ordeal. He nods slightly, and then continues to stare blankly ahead of him.

“Thanks, guys,” you say. You reach your hand up the back of your neck where in theory a gaping wound should still stand, but there isn’t so much as a scar. The sword that should have ended your life for good didn’t even leave a mark.

Astarion rises to his feet next to you, eyes still dark with something you can’t distinguish. Suddenly all of your other companions have somewhere else to be, quickly and awkwardly slipping away to their tents as Astarion stares you down, eyes taking in your every movement. Rather than ask him his thoughts, you silently begin to walk away from the camp, towards an area where your conversation will not be so easily overheard. After a moment you hear his footsteps follow you.

“What were you thinking?!?” His voice comes out in a hiss, anger seeping into his words. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

You turn to glance at Astarion. “It wasn’t stupid in the moment. I didn’t think he would be so fast.” Astarion tilts his chin up.

“But WHY did you have to do that? I was perfectly fine to handle myself!”

“Are you angry with me for trying to protect you?” Despite the haze of being resurrected, you still remember seeing the rush of a sword toward Astarion, and feeling your body move on its own. Though he may have been able to evade it, the blade meeting it’s mark on Astarion would have meant his certain doom as well.

“Yes. I am.” Astarion takes a step closer to you. “I would have been fine.”

You shake your head. “You don’t know that. It might have ended up like this anyway, someone being resurrected.”

“Something that we didn’t even know would work until just now. And might never work again!” He adds the second sentiment on hastily, pointing a finger at you.

“But it did work, and I’m fine now.”

Suddenly he can no longer contain himself.

“You didn’t have to watch you die!” Astarion shouts, his voice breaking. “You didn’t have to watch all of your blood rush from your neck, the life slip from your eyes. You didn’t have to watch as the only person who you have ever cared about crumple to the ground. And it was MY fault.” Tears spring from his eyes. “I thought I lost you forever, love. Hells, you DIED.”

Tears pour freely down his face, his voice catching in his throat. Tears well in your own eyes as well, knowing the hurt you have caused him, knowing you would have reacted the same had the situation been flipped, still further knowing that you did not regret your decision one bit.

“I would do it again, Astarion. For you.” He grabs your face in his hands, thumbs forcing your chin to tilt up, forcing your gaze to his.

“Don’t. Please, for my sake, don’t. I don’t care if you’re fine in the end. I cannot….. I cannot…” he buries his face in your neck as a sob cuts off his words. You wrap your arms around him gently. After a moment he regains his composure and whispers,

“I cannot bear to see you die again. Please. Don’t make me watch my worst nightmare a second time.” He pulls back, making sure you meet his gaze once again. “Please.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Astarion brushes his thumb across your lips before gently bringing them to his.

“Thank you, darling.”

You spend the rest of the night wrapped tightly in his embrace, his fingers tracing the back of your magically unscarred neck as though afraid your wound may reopen and steal you from him once again.

[paperultra]

HOME (TO THE OL’ BALL AND CHAIN)

(OR, THE PIÑA COLADA SONG)

Pairing: Chilchuck Tims x Fem!Chilchuck’s Wife!Reader Word Count: 2,678 words Warnings: Swearing Summary: Five years after leaving your first and only love, you take the plunge into the dating scene – and immediately regret it. Maybe you’re too picky, but none of the men you go out with seem to fit the bill; they’re too non-committal, or too eager, or too happy, or too sad, or simply just too much … so after a particularly bad experience, your youngest makes a last-ditch effort to set you up on a blind date with someone who she insists deserves a chance. You reluctantly agree. read on ao3 | read on quotev

DATE #2: MUSHROOM FORAGING Forest — 1 Mushrooms — 29 Nostalgia — to taste

To make things clear: you had always expected Chilchuck to resent you for leaving him. Regardless of whatever he had felt for you at the time (and it hurts, even now, that you couldn’t be certain about those feelings), your husband had a strong fondness for clear terms and conditions, and as your marriage deteriorated you remember thinking how bad a sin it would be to provide none for your disappearance.

So that is exactly what you did.

You wanted him to resent you. Being resented meant you were a person, that you took up not just space but attention, and that you weren’t just a silent fixture in the home that Chilchuck drank and slept in. You wanted him to understand the frustration of reaching out to someone who wouldn’t reach back. So you left him. It was petty and unconstructive and cruel and –

And it affected him.

In your heart you had known that, and you had counted on it, fearing no repercussions because while Chilchuck was protective, he was never controlling. He would resent you for leaving, but he would not follow.

You just hadn’t considered that his ability to let you go was a punishment in and of itself.

But now?

Now, as you stand at the edge of the trees outside of Kahka Brud, your imagination spirals around the possibility that he hadn’t let you go, but simply let his resentment fester until you came crawling back, gullible and perfectly dressed for a one-way trip down a forest cliff. He had been an adventurer, after all. He would know how to handle bodies.

“There you are.”

Jumping underneath your skin, you turn to see Chilchuck just a few paces away.

“O-Oh. Hi.” He’s wearing the cowl Flertom had sent him, and as he waves at you, you pet your own cowl self-consciously and try not to think about how evenly matched the two of you must look. “You know, when I said we could talk, I was expecting it to be indoors.”

“I figured it’d be easier if we were doing something at the same time. Besides, I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with me at your place or you at mine.”

“So you decided to bring me out to the middle of the woods with no witnesses?”

You don’t mean to sound so serious, but the way his eyes widen doesn’t help much at all.

He scoffs. “No witnesses? You don’t seriously think that I would …”

You lack the good sense to laugh it off, and a sliver of horror and offense slips through his expression.

“Look,” he exclaims, “I’m not gonna lie and say I was never mad at you, but I wouldn’t off you in the middle of the woods!”

You grimace, wanting to shrink inside yourself once he says it aloud. Of course. This is Chilchuck you’re talking about. This is the man with whom you had shared meals, sown fields and raised children. Even at his worst, he’d never laid a hand on you. Murder? Why would you even think –?

“I know. I’m sorry, I’m just – nervous, I guess,” you blurt, regret filling the space between your words. “I just don’t know what to expect from all of this.”

“Well, rest assured, you’ll come out alive and well,” Chilchuck replies sardonically.

“I’m sorry.”

He stares at you before taking a deep breath. “… It’s fine.” He exhales in a way that tells you it is not in fact fine, and you wring your hands shamefully as he scratches his head. “We can go somewhere with more people around.”

“No, I’m okay. Really.”

“You sure?”

You nod. “I’m sure,” you insist, inwardly cursing yourself for setting such a sour mood. You’re the one who agreed to this. Remain civil. “So what are we doing, anyway?”

Though he still seems a bit put off, Chilchuck holds out a wicker basket towards you. “Mushroom foraging,” he says in Half-Foot, village drawl creeping in along the syllables and peeling the ends off the words. 

You blink, then laugh.

“I haven’t done that since Puck moved out.”

“Me neither. But apparently this is a good place to do it, and it’s pretty early so not a lot of people are around.”

You take the basket from him, and the two of you wade deeper into the forest.

The dirt-wet smell of fallen leaves and the scurrying of hidden critters dig up memories from an old life. Your home village was surrounded by a forest much like this one, and you remember yourself, small and tucked away in layers of wool, scrambling to pick the biggest, best-smelling mushrooms for your family’s dinner. Chilchuck, buried in his own warm clothes, would complain that you wanted to hog all the mushrooms, but after poor harvests he’d always sneak a few more from his basket into yours when you weren’t looking.

(It was a habit that he never completely shook, even after you discovered it – making sure you had enough, even if it meant having less for himself, and pretending that he didn’t mind either way.)

After what feels like an eternity walking in silence, you reach a small dip in the forest floor. A large tree had fallen across it, and jutting out from the softening wood are the bread-brown shelves of your first fungi.

“Here,” Chilchuck finally speaks again, and he hands you a small knife. “Forgot to give you this.”

The unspoken Do you feel safer now? lingers between the two of you like a bad taste. You accept the knife with doleful thanks and start cutting into the base of the mushroom alongside him.

It’s quiet again, and you tolerate it until you can’t.

“You’re still upset.”

“I said it’s fine. Not like I don’t deserve it, anyway.”

Irritation prickles your tongue on instinct but dies just as quickly. “No,” you say, dropping a chunk of mushroom into your basket and facing him fully. “I’m not going to accept that.” Like I had so many times before. “I assumed something terrible about you, so please just tell me how you feel about it.”

Chilchuck scowls and clicks his tongue. “I –” he cuts himself off and sighs. His eyes close, expression loosening, and when he opens them again, it’s to look at the ground. “I’m still not too good at that,” he murmurs.

“Just be honest. That’s all I’m asking.”

His eyebrows twitch. You wait.

“… If you say so.” He busies himself with a ham-of-the-forest, avoiding your gaze. His voice peters out to a tone that only a half-foot can decipher. “Yeah, I’m still upset. I’ve never hit you or talked or even thought about hurting you physically. Ever. So honestly, I hate knowing that you don’t feel safe around me anymore.”

Something tells you that another apology is unwanted, so you swallow it down. “That’s fair,” you say, carefully weighing your words. “I … I really don’t think you’d put me in danger. But like I said earlier, it’s just that I don’t know what to expect, so my mind keeps making up worst-case scenarios. We haven’t spoken in so long and I”—you hesitate—“I didn’t know if you were still angry with me for … for leaving you.”

“I’m not. Not anymore.” He makes eye contact with you, and your heart grows heavy at the defeat in his shoulders. “But whenever I sit still long enough to think about it, I still get upset at myself. I was a shit husband.”

“So why now?”

“Huh?”

You clarify. “Why reach out now all of a sudden?”

“Because if I don’t, I never will.” Chilchuck chews his lower lip. He reaches out to cut another mushroom but then pauses, almost sounding shy as he mumbles, “And if it’s one thing I learned from my last dungeon job, it’s that you shouldn’t push away the people you care about.”

Your eyes widen.

“S-So that’s how I feel. Your turn.”

You open your mouth, close it, then open it again like a befuddled clam. You do this a few times before Chilchuck’s eyebrow twitches.

“Don’t go twisting my ears,” he mutters, though the quip is blunted by the red in his cheeks.

“Sorry, it’s just – this is the most open you’ve been with me since you started adventuring,” you say, hand over your mouth.

“It weirds you out, huh.”

“No! Well, a little bit. But not in a bad way.” Your voice quiets, embarrassed. “It’s nice.”

“Oh.”

The two of you stand in silence for a moment. Then, as if jolted by lightning, you resume your mushroom harvesting with renewed gusto. Chilchuck cuts one last decent shelf of fungi from the tree, and then the both of you climb out of the dip and towards the faint sound of a bubbling creek.

By this time, your face has finally cooled down, allowing another question marinating in your mind to make its way into the light. “Are you still living in the same house?” you ask, examining tree roots as you pass by them.

“No. I rented it out to Lilituck and her family. I’m in a smaller place closer to the Island.”

“Lilituck moved to Khaka Brud? I didn’t know.”

“I’m guessing you haven’t really been in the loop for a while.”

“I guess not.” You wrinkle your nose. Everyone back home noses into each other’s business as a matter of principle, and other than the sparse letters you’re obliged to exchange with your mother, you haven’t involved yourself for some time. You just know your and Chilchuck’s separation circulated like wildfire when the village first got wind of it. “Do you talk to them a lot?”

“Not really. Maybe every once in a while – oi.” He suddenly ushers you around a large rock, and though his hand does not touch your back, you can nearly feel the print of it hovering over your cloak. “Watch your step.”

“I am,” you protest, only half-fibbing.

“Sure.” He withdraws. You sense a hesitation that he quickly tucks away into his pocket. “Anyway, the last time I talked to them was last winter about fixing something at the house. That’s it.”

There’s a stout pair of mushrooms up a slope a few feet away. You point them out, and Chilchuck climbs up after you, remarking something about watching out for tripping hazards while you roll your eyes at his preoccupation. It’s not entirely unjustified, as the fallen leaves are thick and hide tangles of broken branches, but you stay upright and reach your destination without incident.

“These are healer’s caps.”

Chilchuck hums in agreement. You squat down to feel the round tops. They’re soft, almost leathery, and smell sweet. As your fingers trail down to grasp the stem of one of the mushrooms, Chilchuck crouches down as well.

“What?” you ask.

There are tones that waver in his throat before he clears it. Chilchuck breathes in slowly, and the relaxation that had been slowly building up over the past half-hour comes to a standstill.

It is hardly surprising when he asks, “When did you know you were going to leave?”

You pick the mushroom. “… It’s hard to say.”

“Humor me.”

The healer’s cap rolls over in your hands. Gnawing the inside of your cheek, you put the mushroom into your basket, wiping the dirt from your fingertips.

“I guess I started thinking about it after we had that argument about when you’d stop going into the dungeons. I don’t know if you remember it.” The silence tells you that he does. “You said it wasn’t my job to complain about something I didn’t know anything about. And I said I didn’t know anything about it because you never talked about your work. And then a few days later, you brought me to have dinner with your party.”

“Right,” Chilchuck mumbles. “You were in a bad mood that night on the way home.”

“I was.”

“Why?”

“I guess partly because I was jealous.”

He lets out a noise of disbelief. “Of who? I never –”

“Not like that, Chilchuck.” Setting your basket on the ground beside you, you rest your chin in your hand and look over to see him staring at you, perplexed. “I sat with you and your work friends, and you were all relaxed and laughing about stories I had never heard from you.” A laugh puffs out from between your teeth, bitter from years past now that it’s all dug up. “And I realized that I really didn’t know anything about your life out there without me, and that it was a lot bigger than your life with me.”

That’s the selfish truth of it, isn’t it? You had never wanted a glamorous life. A small life was all you had ever needed; caring for a home and raising three kids were both things you had loved. But kids grow up and a house starts feeling less like a home when you’re the only one there for days on end, and as you trailed behind your husband that night, it had dawned on you that your small life had shrunk to something you could barely recognize.

Mere existence, like an afterthought.

When Chilchuck responds, it’s in a whisper. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course not. We never got around to talking about things like that.”

“Because I was a coward.” He sounds pained. “I made you feel alone.”

Yes, you think, you came home but you always left half your dinner on your plate and nothing in your mug and answered with one or two sentences and fell asleep before we could say goodnight to each other. And it felt like that was everything you could give, and I still felt alone.

You lift your shoulders in some semblance of a shrug.

“You did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Picking the second healer’s cap, you stand up and offer it to him, inches from his chest. You smile wryly. “I can tell.”

Quietly, Chilchuck takes the mushroom. His eyes are glossy and you look away before the sight begins to hurt too much.

You reach the creek not long after that, following it for a bit, absorbing the cold, trickling sound in between your breathing and heartbeats before moving on. And although you find it difficult at first, conversation eventually trickles back between the two of you, turning to the girls, work, spices to use with the harvest. Perhaps all of it distracts you; before you know it, the sun has climbed in the sky and it’s time to start heading back.

Once you and Chilchuck reach the edge of the forest, you set your baskets down and sort through everything. There ends up being quite a bit less than you are used to. Chilchuck insists on a seventy-thirty split, what with there being two people in your household compared to his one, but your stubbornness is able to whittle it down to sixty-forty. Carrying out the compromise is another challenge, however.

“I saw that,” you say sharply as his sneaky fingers attempt to put another mushroom into your basket. “That’s yours.”

“It’s Fler’s favorite.”

“No, it’s not. Put it back.”

“I don’t –”

“‘I don’t want it’ – that’s what you always say,” you exclaim, catching it before it lands onto your pile. Tossing it at his face does nothing as his reflexes snatch it up even quicker than yours had. “There. You can hardly have a full meal with your share as it is.”

“So what? If that happens, I guess I’ll just have to go and steal whatever you’re making,” he retorts.

Whether it’s for his sake or yours, you ignore the small tensing of his shoulders at the declaration, merely hiking your skirt up to walk away with a haughty scoff.

“Good luck with that!”

(Perhaps you allow yourself to entertain the possibility. Just a little bit.)

The sunlight warms your face as you enter the open field once again. Chilchuck joins you soon enough, and though he hides it within his cowl, you can hear him grin.

—

prev

[princesssmars]

alone together

a karlach x princess!reader.

in the blink of eye, you go from a carefree heir to a throne to a damsel in distress stuck in a tower. but there's a strange woman stuck with you, and maybe you can make each other a little less lonely.

wc : 8,655

contains: fxf. fem!reader. skin color not described. fluff. some light angst. smut. g!p karlach. oral and penetrative sex.

a/n: fuck that poll i'll do TWO fics for her i never cared! karlach has a little soldier because those bg3 mods have affected my brain and i need her to take me to pound town. sorry i rushed the ending i need this fic out NOW. enjoy :3

throughout history, many tales have been written about the failures of monarchs.

there was thaymor the vain, whose search for everlasting youth to sustain his envied beauty led to him making a deal with faeries for a youth spell, but they didnt tell him he would absorb this youth from his entire family, killing his lineage in only a few short years.

atreyu the acceptable, whose father went from being the hero who defended his village from raiders to the king who turned it into a flourishing kingdom, while the most his son accomplished was developing a new bread recipe in the palace kitchens. to be fair, it was rather tasty. bit too many nuts.

but the one story you loathed the most was cassara the chilled. a young, beautiful, and promising young princess who was locked in her room for nearly half a year as punishment for a false accusation of pushing her brother, the crown heir, down a flight of stairs. in her lonesome and desperation, she had turned to dark magic to sustain herself, and by the time her parents found her, she was a cold and petrified shell. nothing more than a glamorous statue.

you would read these stories in the palace library and, admittedly a bit morbidly, laugh to yourself. your family line was known for its intelligence and charisma, able to control your kingdom with ample care for its citizens and contributing greatly to its numerous advancements.

it'd been this way for decades - so how on earth were your parents so damned stupid?

you had noticed things like this before. the pair of them listening too closely to what citizens had to say while holding court. a few years back a fanatical farmer had told them he saw a sign from one of his gods that unless the kingdom slaughtered half its cows it would be leveled, and the king quickly gave the order. then it was later revealed that the farmer had eaten some contaminated mushrooms he had found on his farm and didnt even worship any gods.

the kingdom ate a lot of chicken that year. some of the court mages used spells to increase the egg output from the livestock to make up for it, which led to you quitting the meat for two years. those magic chickens were...odd.

but besides that, your life was nothing short of amazing. you were the only child and the crown heir, so even though you had the unbearable weight of the heavily bejeweled crown in your future, with all the luxuries you were afforded like dresses, jewelry, lavish balls, and dinners, it was very much worth it.

on a day when you had political tutoring instead of attending court, your parents must have done something to piss someone off, because the next time you came in you'd never seen a citizen have such nerve. it was an old woman dressed in black rags and holding a weird-looking staff, most likely a witch.

your family had no qualms against magic wielders as far as you knew, seeing any amount of help to grow their empire as worthwhile. but that changed when she aimed her stick at your parents and spoke.

"your contempt for life that does not fit your 'purpose' is an affront for everything your kingdom supposedly stands for. a kingdom i helped your ancestors build. and all i asked in return is for you to remember my terms. to not disrespect me after all i've done. but you have failed. and for this you must be punished."

you were going to call her insane, call the guards to seize her and make an example out of anyone who would threaten and say such baseless claims about your family. you had heard the story of how your ancestors built this kingdom from the ground up hundreds of times, and not once was it mentioned that they received help from a witch.

you weren't afforded time to think it over when her staff pointed at you, her gaze making your blood run cold. the trinkets and bones attached to the end of the warped dark stick brimming with glowing tendrils of magic.

"your daughter, such beauty, such grace, such a beacon of what your family stands for," she taunts and moves her head side to side as she mocks you. "i will give you a choice. your daughter or your kingdom."

you scoff at her and the panicked whispers from the commoners and guards around you. this is bullshit. for all you knew she was nothing but a druid playing dress up, most likely hurt that her flower farm was torn up in one of your father's recent expansion projects.

"this is crazy, we all know this is crazy, right?" your head whips to stare at your parents, who won't even look you in the eye. you start to feel sick, refusing to believe for a second that they could actually be considering this. "mother, father!"

your father raises his hand and the room goes quiet. he stands, an imposing figure by himself, and his cloaks and crown make him more so. the family crest glimmers from his chest, a golden dragon with its wings bared. you try to remember what it stands for to quell the fear in your chest.

your family is strong, your family has knowledge that goes beyond others, your family is more powerful than this pathetic pretender-

"please, just...just don't hurt her, we beg."

your eyes strain at the sight of your father, the king, on his knees with his hands clasped together.

he's pleading with her. this woman is threatening your life and he's begging to her.

you only manage to have one last thought before you're enclosed in a cloud of black and feel your body being ripped through space.

your family is fucking stupid.

your new life is far from what you're used to, but you become suspicious of how pampered elisia - the hag - has made everything for you.

you live in a tower, a tall and black and imposing thing that if you weren't a damn hostage you'd probably think thrice about entering. it stood at the top of an abandoned keep you think you'd heard of in another bedtime story, something about an ogre and a damsel…whatever.

elisia had made it extremely clear that there would be no way for you to escape. her magic would keep the place functional while she was gone; the dark halls lit up, kitchen stocked, library filled. but try to navigate the gigantic lower level that led to the exit and you’d end up in an endless loop that left you feeling dizzy enough to give up for the day.

(for good measure the keep was also situated on a crumbling mountain above a pit of actual lava. have to applaud her efficiency.)

but then you asked if she had planned on you going insane, as would eventually happen if you were left here alone.

the sound of her cackle rang in your head for a few days.

‘what makes you think you're alone in here?’

the cloth of your bed was soft, the gentle canopy making you long for the glamorous and full one you'd had at home. but even the mocking familiarity couldn’t rouse you into sleep that night. every tumble of a rock echoed throughout the halls of the prison that was now your home, making vomit rise in your throat as you remembered the witch’s words.

you tried to calm yourself down, convincing yourself she only alluded to another thing being here to scare you. for the first day you tried to follow your daily schedule as well as possible. wake up, clean and dress yourself, eat some breakfast, focus on hobbies and interests, tea in the garden, etcetera.

but to say it was a struggle is an understatement. you forgot how everything was made easier by your maids and lady’s in waiting, having issue with just doing your hair alone. you didn’t even want to begin on breakfast, fighting with the damned bewitched oven and settling for a fruit salad.

and so you stick to reading, it’s not like you need help doing that. it reminds you of when you were younger and your governess would call out “sick” and when a replacement was being prepared you’d wait on the cushy classroom chaise and read and read and read until your eyes started to hurt.

and now you’ve resorted to reading a cookbook. you’re halfway through a recipe for grilled cheese when you hear it, the displacement of rock in the walls and a dull, eerie humming. you feel the goosebumps rise on your skin and try your best not to let your fear show as you pass a quick glance up at the doorway.

and an eye is staring right back at you.

the book falls from your hands and hits the ground with a hard smack, throwing you from holding the eyes gaze as you make sure it’s alright before looking back at the doorway, only to find nothing there.

this is getting weird. and unsettling. and annoying. and so you muster up all the foolish courage you can, pick your dress up by the hem, and chase after the creature.

you recognize it’s not the smartest idea, chasing after something potentially dangerous and definitely stalking you. but if it’s resorted to staring at you from doorways it can’t be prone to violence. hopefully. curse your father for burdening you with his impatience. and dimwittedness, apparently.

whatever the thing is its fucking fast, tucking and weaving around corners almost faster than you can keep up with.

(you mentally thank your fitness educator for making you routinely run laps around the gardens when you became too lazy for your parents liking back when you were twelve. sucks you’ll never see her again, she was always funny.)

the mysterious being messes up and you cheer to yourself when you hear it stop itself from crashing into the wall.

“hah! looks like you’ve-“

gods above you must look like a dunce, panting in the middle of this dark hallway as you stare at the big bad that was staring at you in your entrapment. but it’s not what you expect. it’s not a monster, or a creature, or the angel of death here to free you from the torment of boredom.

it’s a woman. a devil woman. a very large and disturbingly attractive devil woman.

gods above, you’d been involuntarily celibate for far too long.

it’s clear she’s not going to start conversation first, appearing as if she’d rather sink into the walls themselves than explain herself to you.

“are we going to keep staring at each other or are you going to explain why you’re stalking me?”

“i’m not stalking you!” she blurts, clearly annoyed by your accusation. well, if she only responded to being called a pervert you’d just have to deal with that.

“you were standing in the doorway and ogling me as i was reading, sounds pretty stalkerish to me.”

“that’s not- i wasn’t ogling-“

“and you’ve clearly been in here with me a while, i’ve heard that weird humming and seen that light before. why not introduce yourself if you weren’t being a creep?”

“i’m not a stalker! i’m supposed to be here!” her eye twitches and you figured you’ve pushed her far enough to the truth. you didn’t want to annoy her too much, the giant woman looked like she could snap you in half with ease.

no, don’t think about that. stop staring at her muscles. stop it-

maybe she notices your silence or maybe she notices how you are not no politely checking her out, because she takes the infernal axe off her back, - which you hadn’t even noticed, survival skills going down the drain - sets it gently on the ground, and slowly starts to walk towards you.

you try your best not to show weakness or fear as she approaches, clearly trying to show you she doesn’t mean to harm you. she could have easily harmed you earlier when you chased her like a mad woman through the keep, and you start to feel a bit flushed with embarrassment.

“i can kind of explain why i’m here, if you’d like. somewhere more comfortable preferably.”

she leads you back to the kitchen and the whole time your eyes never leave her body, taking in every detail you can to try to piece together her story.

she has numerous scars starting from her face and trailing down her body, the gaps in her leather outfit letting you see the raised veins and literal vents in her arm and shoulder. add the injuries and incredibly well defined muscles together and it’s not hard to figure this woman is no strain her to hard battle, and could easily overpower you if she so desired.

(yet again you have to trample your inner libido at the thought. you need to get out of this place and fast.)

once in the kitchen, you both shit down and you listen as she tells you everything you want to know, answering every question you have without failure.

“what’s your name?”

“karlach. named after my mum. what’s yours?”

“princess y/n of tuquestia. are you a devil?”

“an actual princess, eh? here i thought that old witch was exaggerating. and no, i’m a tiefling. blame the burning skin and engine on that bitch downstairs mizora.”

“mizora? why the hell would you get mixed up with her?”

“i didn’t ask to. it’s a long story. i think your foods burning, love.”

“gods damn it. whatever. why are you here? how long have you been here?”

“guess that wicked witch is old buddies with my devil because they made some bet way back when that if she managed to screw over some kingdom they both hate mizora would give up one of her best soldiers to help her.”

“so what, your an extra ounce of protection to make sure i don’t jump out of a window?”

“guess i am. and please don’t, wouldn’t end well for either of us.”

after an hour of trying to make a simple meal and glaring at karlach whenever she’d tease you, a warmth bloomed in your chest uncaused by the infernal being across from you. until that point you had pondered when the effect of the endless days of loneliness would seep in, when you'd start talking to visions in your mind before slowly going insane.

but now you had karlach. big, loud, always yapping karlach.

you didn't have many friends back home. you had your handmaidens who were respectful but always too careful, brief flings from when you snuck out to the local towns taverns and polite conversations with visiting monarchs and royals. but never a true friend.

so you’re unable to tell if the way karlach acts is…normal. it’s not like she’s just standing behind and watching you as you try to live your life during the day. not that you’d mind that much.

it’s quite the opposite; she’s always talking. maybe it’s because during your first conversation you made a one off comment of resorting to talking to an old teddy bear you’d found in your closet for company, but there doesn’t go a minute where’s she doesn’t just strike up a conversation with you.

she asks what your home is like, how did you grow up, what it was like to be a princess (that ‘was’ stung more than you expected), if you ever had any pets, any friends, a boyfriend.

you’d snorted at that, telling her if there’s one thing you were grateful to your parents for it was respecting your preference for women. she goads you to go on and listens intently to your story of the time you and a neighboring princess got caught in the quite the situation behind one of the curtains at a large gala…

you figure it’s only polite to ask her all of her questions back, and clearly it’s the right option since each time you do her face lights up almost literally and she animatedly explains every little detail of her life and adventures before she got screwed over and stuck in avernus.

and oh, avernus. if there’s one thing to smack you into reality it’s when she finally deems you trustworthy enough to tell you how exactly she’d become one of mizoras best. you were not the least bit surprised that someone like gortash would screw her over.

(you’d only met him once at your parents invitation and faked food poisoning when he had asked you for a dance. karlach laughed so hard at that her fingers scorched the table you were sitting at. it felt in that moment that you’re stomach was even warmer than her.)

but when she explained everything after he gave her up, the pain of being taken from her home, having her heart replaced, turned into a killing machine and mistaken for a devil, your heart ached. all you wanted was to reach out and touch her, to place at least a comforting hand on her shoulder, but another pain she felt was going without contact with anyone because of her engine.

your old sociology instructor would weep in joy if she could see you know, mourning for the life of someone you just met could have had. all you wanted wasnt to escape this tower, or to wear the latest dress made custom by your tailor and drink some of the not sneakily hidden wine in the kitchens stone walls. it’s just to make her feel better.

so you come up with a plan. probably not the smartest one, but the only one that’ll get you results quickly.

you go about the morning as normal. wake up, clean yourself, meet karlach in the kitchen for breakfast. easy peasy.

now there’s just manning up and going through with this. you had told karlach you were making omelets, the tiefling practically bouncing in her seat as she cleaned off her axe while she wanted. as soon as you could tell she was distracted, you raised the vegetable cutting knife to your hand, took on a deep breath, and then-

“fuck!” her head jerked up at your cry, body standing up on automatically as she watched you cradle your hand to your chest and keel over. she goes to place a hand on your back to help you up and see what’s wrong when she stops herself, so close she can nearly feel the fabrics of your dress brush against her skin.

“damn it, princess. um, ok, it’s not too deep, i’ll get you a towel.” she rushes around the kitchen, searching for a piece of cloth to help you with your wound. but once she sees one sitting not even two feet from you by the fireplace, she’s stopped from alerting you by a swooshing air coming in from the hall, specks of magic floating through the air.

“what on earth are you doing?” elisia‘s voice comes out in a screech, looking like a cloud of darkness as her tall frame draped in black cloaks moves into the kitchen with a quickness. she’s just as quick to dig her nails into your wrist and bring your injured hand up to her face, ignoring your whimper that sends a pang of worry into karlach.

“what, are you turning into an idiot like your father? how can you be so inept?”

“ok ok, it was just an accident!”

she spits out a curse in a language you don't understand and drops your wrist, ignoring your grunt of pain. “the whole point of this is for you to be trapped here, not for you to end your life because of pure foolishness.”

her eyes zip to karlach, and you admire how the tiefling doesn't stand down to the hag's piercing gaze, squaring her shoulders almost like she is preparing for a fight.

“you. did you forget about our precious zariel’s little gift?” elisia smiles down at karlach’s chest, which noticeably glows brighter as her frustration rises. “one touch and you could have burned it closed. do you enjoy watching my hostage bleed out on the stone?”

“i don't think making her pass out and likely die from excruciating pain is in your plans either. i can't help her if i can't touch her without endangering her life!”

the echo of her booming voice leads to an eerie silence, both of you waiting for what elisia says next. your eyes meet from across the room, glowing amber trailing down to your hand before you give a quick nod to let her know you’re okay.

elisia groans, tapping her staff on one of the sturdy counters. “fine. what do you need in order to do what you’re here for?”

”i…i need an engine upgrade. just enough to be able to make contact.” you can't help but notice the tick in karlach’s voice, a slight glimmer of hope at just the idea that she’ll be able to touch someone again, even if it’s just you.

“you’ll still be able to use it as protection, yes?”

karlach nods, and after a few seconds of contemplation, the witch wordlessly disappears into a plume of smoke.

“do you think she’ll consider it?” you question, voice strained as the stinging of your palm reaches a new high. in a rush the woman is collecting the things needed to take care of your wound, gesturing for you to sit on top of the table while she helps as much as she can without hurting you further.

“focus on me, yeah? it’ll be over in a second.” she holds a bottle of alcohol over your hand waiting for your confirmation that she can pour it on the slash to sterilize it. you wish you could say you reacted gracefully, but based on her facial reaction it’s safe to assume the sound you cried was anything but pretty. quickly she guides you to dry it off and wrap it in a bandage, a sigh of relief escaping you when the would is properly covered.

“thank you. sorry if i made you worried, didn’t mean to cut so deep. still not very good with knives.”

“of course i worried, you’re - wait, you did this on purpose?”

you give her a sheepish smile as she stares at you in shock, eyes darting from your hand to multiple spots on your face before she bursts into a loud laughter, your body going stark straight from the surprise of her mood shifting so suddenly.

“glad to know i was right about there being something more than air in that head of yours, princess. now i’m aware you’re also crazy.”

“hey, it worked didnt it? now you’ll get your engine upgrade, and you’ll finally be able to touch me.”

“yeah looking forward to wrangling your stubborn ass from trying to find more secret tunnels in your bedroom.”

“i know they exist! what keep doesn’t have a secret tunnel?”

you’re thrown into a playful argument about how she’s certain that secret tunnels that you remembered dearly from your old castle wouldn’t be in every type of royal origin, while you try to persuade her it’s basically an untold law for building a keep.

all the while she’s trying to ignore how the light of the fireplace brings out the warmness of your skin, while you decide not to bring up how to the idea of touching you made her bite her lip and stutter her breath.

karlach gets her upgrade sooner than later, the itch appearing with a nice but scared-looking tiefling who uses a strange-looking metal to fix karalch up. you can tell she's trying to stay calm through the endeavor, not wanting g to risk the poor man due to her excitement. and the whole time you stay by her side, eyes trained on the rather strange way the procedure is done.

but once its done she stands there, almost unable to believe what she hopes to be true. she turns her body to face yours, eyes near begging for either of you to do something when you wrap your arms around her neck and push your body into hers.

and gods, is she warm. like cuddling up with a wool blanket in bed during the chilling midsts of winter. you can tell your sudden act of affection scared her at first, but once she realizes whats happening she wraps her arms around your waist so tightly it feels like shes trying to fuse you into one.

you hear elisia in the back, groaning at the act before leaving with the stranger in a hurry. when their footsteps are no longer heard karlach lifts your body up with ease, twirling you around before setting your body back to the floor.

her chest is having, excitement coursing through her body as flames rise and retreat from the vents in her shoulders.

“i cant believe it. i never thought i would- that you and i could-”

she cuts herself off with the most joyous laugh you've heard from her yet, pulling you into another hug and burying her face into your shoulder, minding not to scratch you with her horn.

its almost adorable how cuddly karlach becomes after that; a giant war fighting barbarian nervously asking if she can receive a random hug in the middle of the day, standing behind you as she makes sure you're following the steps of a recipe you found, even indulging you when you ask for her hands to warm your stomach when your moon week arrives.

only two weeks after her upgrade do you realize that you have feelings for her. maybe you've known for longer, only denying it in the fear that you'd lose the only true friend you'd ever had. even if she didn't return your affections, the reasonable part of you knew she would never turn you down in a harsh way. but you knew yourself, and knew the embarrassment would lead to you distancing yourself from her and ignoring her at any chance possible, which was the opposite of what both of you needed at this time.

you try your hardest not to make it obvious, but when she catches your eyes lingering on her a few times too long she decides she cant ignore it any longer, choosing to finally have that long awaited talk with you before you head to sleep.

she was escorting you from the library back up to your room for the night, gently guiding you with a large palm on your back while your attention was focused on a book you had found deep in the history shelves. it was endearing, how you'd pay little attention to where you were going and nearly trip over a stair before cursing it under your breath.

“i knew you were a bit of a history buff, darling, but you cant exactly learn if you give yourself a concussion.” karlach smiles.

you don't reply, mumbling something about being too engrossed in the text. with a choked back laugh she shakes her head and bends down to pick you up, one arm under your back and the other under your legs. she can see your eyes widen over the edge of the pages before going back to what you were doing. once she reaches your door she not-so-delicately kicks it open before placing you on your bed, bending down to start helping you take off your slippers.

once she's done she starts to look up at you when she takes a quick glance around your room. she’s only been in here a few times, when you’d fall asleep hunched over a tome in the library and she had to gracefully put you in your bed. there isn’t much in here save for the bed and a simple closet. but her eyes catch on the tally’s you’ve been keeping on the wall, inching closer and closer to the three month mark.

she starts to second guess herself. why would you have any feelings other then basic ones of friendship with her, a barbarian ordered to prevent you from leaving a tower you were trapped in? as much as you tried to hide it it was clear how much you missed your home, your parents, the grand lifestyle in which you were raised.

she’s about to make a quick exit after asking if you need anything else when you're doing it again: staring into her soul like you apparently so enjoy doing.

“is there anything else you need, princess?”

you feel a sharp pull below your stomach, not expecting the effect her words would have on your body, only increased by the feel of her large hand still around your ankle, the heat radiating from her and hitting you full force as whatever shes feeling grows in intensity. you gently reach a hand up to feel over the ridges of her cut horn, down to the slit in her eyebrow and the shaved cut of her hair. the whole time she waits, chest rising and falling as she tries to keep her composure while your touch continues its journey down and down until your gentle fingers are grazing over the curve of her nose and her lips.

you finally kiss her, and despite how damned good it feels she can't help but feel bad about how desperately she wants so much more. with all the carefulness she can muster she kisses you deeper, pulling you to the edge of the bed so that your legs are on both sides of her body.

“karlach, please…” you whine out into the quiet room, eyes closed at the bliss of her pressing her body closer to yours, her mouth deciding to start kissing down your throat when you stop kissing her to speak her name. not like she seems to mind, for every time you moan out her nails dig into the fat of your hips through your dress.

“gods, i’m so glad i was right. knew you wanted me, i had hoped you did.” her words are muffled by a quick bite to your throat, her mind going blank at the high pitched moan you let out at the press of her sharp teeth into your skin. she sucks a few more marks into the flesh before dragging her tongue in a line from the bottom of your neck back to your chin, staring into your eyes once she stops.

“clothes. clothes off, now.”

she obeys your demand, standing straight up to start working at her boots before tugging off her shirt like it’ll burn her, your slight giggling doing nothing to help her speed. once she’s done she looks back down at you, rolling her eyes to the sight of you laid pretty on your stomach, arms cushioning your head as you wait for her to undo the basic laces on your dress.

“you really are a spoiled princess, huh?” karlachs deep laugh does nothing to stop the need growing inside you, and neither does the feel of her hands ghosting over your back.

“don’t be mad just because i know my worth, brute.”

you can only let out a gasp when her fingers dig into the fabric and rip it down the middle, yanking the ruined dress out from under you. she waste no time in getting you into the position she wants, spreading your legs apart and pushing you down by the middle of your back.

“if i’m being too rough you’ll tell me, yeah?” you weakly nod your head from its place in your covers, but with a small pinch to the left cheek of your ass you know that was the wrong answer. “give me words, baby.”

“yeah, yes, fuck i will.” you don’t have time to be embarrassed by the desperation in your voice, since as soon as the affirmation leaves your mouth her fingers are spreading apart the lips of your cunt and licking a hard slow line up into you.

if she wasn’t explicitly put inside this keep to keep you safe you would have thought she was trying to kill you in the most euphoric way possible. she eats you like she’s starving and isn’t sure when she’s going to eat again. you then remember that before you the last time she slept with someone else was back when she was free in baldurs gate, so a decades worth of longing and lust has been steadily building inside her body.

and now she’s going to take all of it out on you. the thought just makes more cum run down your legs, eagerly caught by the hot mass of her tongue.

you thought she’d be more talkative but instead she’s laser focused on your center; she spreads you farther and farther to get a better view of you, rubbing at your clit with her wide thumb before pinching it when you wiggle your hips back at her. she ignores your whines in favor for drawing those deep sounds from the inside of your chest when she takes the bud inside her mouth and sucks, pulling roughly until your legs start to shake.

“karlach, fuck ‘m close, ‘m close!”

“that’s it, come on princess, cum for me. cum so i can split you open around me and make you mine.”

and like she’s a god that commands it you do, back arching near painfully as your hands fist the sheets and your throat goes raw with the force of your moan bordering on a scream. the whole time she refuses to slow down, sucking even harder as you cum so hard you fear you’ll pass out.

a minute later your high starts to die down, slick covering your thighs and a light sheen of sweat coating the rest of your body. you knew you’d been pent up these past few weeks with only your hand and pillow for satisfaction, but that was…intense.

you feel karlach pressing light kisses to your backside, leaving more little bites and marks around your hips and up your back. she briefly settles her body on top of yours, and while the weight and feel of her sends fireworks up to your brain and down to your cunt, the warmth of her is making the sweat on your back feel even worse, a pout forming on your lips.

“mmm, you’re hot.”

“glad you noticed.” she laughs, the deep timber of it rumbling through her body and into yours. for a brief second, you think you’d like to feel it for the rest of your life. the thought of it only makes you more desperate, trying to burrow your face deeper into the bed.

“think you can handle another? or does the princess need her bath and rest already?”

with a newfound determination, you try your best to lift her off of you, pushing your hips back into hers in the hopes she’ll feel enough pity to give in and roll off of you. instead, you get the opposite, both of you moaning at the grind of your ass against her groin. and fuck, does she feel big. bigger than you've ever taken, and there were some heavy hitters at the tavern you'd frequently sneak out to. soldiers who were big and strong and looking for a pretty thing to make their troubles go away for the night.

and now you had the upgraded model of all of them combined in front of you, lips still covered in your cum as she stared at your body like she wanted nothing more than to get her hands on it and not let go until she was fully sated. you crane your neck back and up to kiss her, tasting yourself as the two of you share a sweet yet intimate kiss, tongues fighting for dominance before you give up and let her win, hips continuing to buck when her long muscle pushes its way into your mouth and starts to explore.

you can only hold on to your small amount of patience for so long, and karlach starting to suck and bite at your tongue isn't helping in the slightest. your hands desperately reach up to grab at her, any part of her you can reach. you grasp helplessly at her large hand that's gently wrapped around your throat, her claws just barely scratching the sides. she squeezes the tiniest bit and you nearly cum from that alone.

“aw, you’re so desperate for it, aren't you baby?” she chuckles, loosening her grip so you can give a weak ‘mhm’ in response. “tell me what you want and it's yours.”

you tilt your head back farther, big wet eyes staring back at hers and clearly having the desired effect if her lip bite and groan are any indication.

“just want you. want you inside me so badly it hurts.”

in under a second her strong arms are flipping you around like it is nothing, spreading your legs and holding them up for you to hold, your brain instantly following her lead and doing as she intends. while you do that her hands are busy pushing the fabric of her pants down her hips, throwing them to the floor with a huff before she settles back in front of you, staring at you as you stare at her. well, a part of her.

she takes a few seconds to revel in the attention you’re giving her, pretty eyes trailing up and down her body, spread out oh so obediently for her while you willingly give yourself to her to indulge in. she’ll have to remember to tell you how much it means to her in the morning because all she can focus on now is fucking you until the both of you pass out.

and so she fits herself into place, swollen thighs helping to keep yours apart as a red hand goes to align herself with your entrance, catching your eyes again and waiting for your enthusiastic nod before pushing herself inside. you moan at the combination of pleasure and pain, grip on your legs faltering as your head falls back onto the bed. karlach isn’t doing better, moaning at the same time as you at the feeling of finally getting to be inside you.

“gods-fuck,” she groans, pushing her hips further until she’s finally fit her entire length inside of you. you’re given a few moments to adjust, but impatient as ever you buck your hips, whining as despite the fullness it’s still not enough.

she smiles, resting her body on top of yours, throwing your legs over her shoulders, and kisses you before starting to thrust at a speed that makes your eyes cross.

there are no words to describe how it makes you feel, just like there are no words you’re able to speak as she wrecks you oh so beautifully and oh so roughly. the only sounds in the room are the rough plap plap plap’s of her thighs meeting yours, the wet sounds of her length coming in and out of you, and the squeaky moans being exerted from your chest that had your cheeks hot to the touch.

needing to ground yourself you reach out for any part of her you can, fight hand gripping around the thick keratin of her horn. your left can only grip onto the stub of her other one, but as your nails dig into the skin at the bottom of it a loud cry leaves the barbarian as she somehow makes her thrusts hit even deeper.

you can’t even begging to imagine what you look like, the (former?) esteemed and regal crown princess spread out and moaning at the top of your lungs as a blood war fighting tiefling barbarian fucks you six ways into next sunday. but with each passing minute of her dick pressing into that oh so good spot inside of you, you can’t find it in you to care. you deserve this. karlach deserves this.

and gods is it so hot to see how much she takes advantage. she has all the stamina of a titan, only momentarily stopping her brutal pace to make sure your weak legs stay up and apart. if you didn’t know any better you’d think she was in a trance, gaze fixed on the sight between the both of your legs.

with a gentle tug on her horns you bring her head back up to look at you, those beautiful amber eyes droopy as her mouth falls open in another moan. you whine and yank slightly harder, pursing your lips at her confused face when you realize you’re still unable to communicate anything other than squeaks.

she brings her lips to yours so fast your heads bump, both of you giggling into the kiss. despite the continued frenzied movements below its sweet and intimate, a soft and fuzzy feeling growing in your chest as she pulls away and starts to press short kissed to your lips and cheeks.

“feels so good, princess, you’re so damn good.” she pants, resting her head in the crok of your neck. the small bit of praise makes you whine and clench around her, her thrusts stuttering for a moment before she digs her knees harder in the bed to make up for the extra resistance.

“aww, you like that?”

you turn your head in the opposite way out of embarrassment, hoping she’ll drop it and bring her focus back to the view of how her cock gradually comes back sticker each time she pulls out of you. instead she nudges her forehead into your chin, bringing your eyesight back to her.

“you like to act like a brat but you just wanna be all good and pretty for me, don’t you? it’s alright, you can tell me.”

face scrunching, you scratch your fingers again at the stub of her horn and she lets out a mix between a groan and a laugh, quickly hitting her hand down to the apex of your thighs and rub harsh circles on your clit.

“oh fuck, karlach, fuck!” your words are high and slurred, mind going blank at the pleasure she forces onto you. you feebly try to slow her down, gripping around her wrist to try and calm the overwhelming pressure building up. “i can’t, can’t it’s-“

“cmon baby, can talk a bug game but can’t take it? do it for me, yeah?”

she doesn’t wait for your answer, cutting off any potential sass as her finger rubs faster and harder and she tilts her hips ever so slightly upwards so she’s pressing directly into your spot, and in under a minute you’re clenching around her and nearly losing your mind at the sheer force of your orgasm, too blinded by the pleasure to notice karlachs strained keen as her thrusts come to a halt and the warm feeling of her cum flows inside of you.

she allows you to bask in the euphoric peace between sleep and consciousness for a few minutes, pulling herself out of you and gently shushing you at your strained whimper. her fingers brush away some of the stray sweaty hairs from your forehead and pressing sweet pecks to your cheeks.

“need some help, hun?” she asks, already predicting your tired nod. without a hitch she gently picks you up, not wanting to disturb you from the peaceful state you were currently in. with all the grace of a ghost she carries your limp body to the small bathroom, turns on the enchanted tub faucet, and gently placed your in the warm water with her sat behind you.

you go in and out over the next hour. you remember the feel of her rubbing the sweat off of your skin, her gentle praises whispered into your hair, her body warming up your towel to dry you off before tugging your nightgown over your head. when she rests your body on tops of hers on your bed, with the gentle hum of her engine calling you to slumber, your final thought is that you wouldn’t mind staying in this tower a little longer.

for the next few weeks everything is nothing short of perfect. the introduction of romance only brings the two of you closer, never going more than an hour separated. its nice to pretend that the two of you aren’t trapped and are instead two lovers on a really weird vacation, spending your days eating magic food, reading books, and making love before doing it all again the next. day.

elisia surprisingly only visit once, silent as a ghost when she appeared in the doorway of the simple chamber room when karlach had decided to join you on a small couch while you were napping, staring at the both of you silently before huffing and leaving in a plume of smoke.

now, you've always been a deep sleeper, something that worried your parents in infancy but became something they were glad for when they heard comparisons to babies that cried all throughout the night. as soon as your head hit a pillow? it was lights out, your body quickly drifting off into a peaceful slumber until you were ready to arise exactly eight hours later.

when you finally start gaining those first few bits of consciousness you feel floaty, high off of what happened the night before, and your body ready to cuddle up to the warm and cozy tiefling still in bed with you.

but when your fingers extend to the soft sheets next to you they feel nothing. she's not there.

your body jerks up, grasping the shirts to cover your chest in a grasp for self-comfort as you look around your room, which is also empty.

you know logically she’s probably off for a short while to get something to eat or doing her daily rounds around the keep, your brain coming up with any scenario other than ‘regretted last night and left you in the dust.’.

before you can come up with more ways to drive yourself crazy, you can hear faint noises in the distance and below you - metal clashing, grunts of exertion, before the sound of someone hitting the wall so roughly that there's no way they didn't break any bones rouses you from your bed, quickly throwing a robe over your body before rushing down the spiraled stairs.

you let out a shrill shriek when a large airborne object nearly takes your head clean off as soon as your foot touches the last step, heart racing so quickly you fear you’ll pass out. your eyes focus on the space in front of you as you quickly try to figure out what danger has entered your ‘home.’

karlach, dressed only in her small sleeping top and trousers is rigid and staring straight at you, clearly disturbed by your scream and unmoving until your subtle nod lets her know you’re unharmed, she has a few bumps and scrapes including a long bleeding gash on her arm, blood trickling down until it reaches her fingers which are gripped around one of the large kitchen knives.

you don't need to ask what the danger is because it'd be hard to miss it even if you were blind. there's a knight standing just a few feet away from her, donned in shining silver armor and holding a similar shining steel sword. his helmet has been thrown aside to reveal an admittedly dashing face and blonde mane, the stereotypical look of a prince charming.

well. charming until he opens his mouth.

“princess y/n! finally, i have found you! your father the king has been contacting numerous kingdoms to track you down and bring you home safely. don't worry about this beast, i will slay it and you will finally be safe from your captors!”

“oh you want a beast i’ll show you a beast, pretty boy-” karlach moves to attack the knight before you step in front of her, placing a gentle hand on her chest to stop her in her tracks.

“how did you get in here, sir?”

“its sir garrick, your highness…” the man answers, eyes flicking between you and the hand you have on karlachs chest. you don't care to move it, though.

“and how did you get in here? you just.. walked through the drawbridge? no other obstacles?”

he nods. and though its an answer it does nothing to help you or karlach answer the question on your minds.

“do you reckon she’s dead?” karlach asks.

“i doubt we could be that lucky.” you roll your eyes and turn to face her, the woman relaxed at your touch but still on guard because the knight is still staring at the two of you like he just saw an owl bear pick up a lute and start singing. you do suppose this was rather odd, a lost princess found in a tower and gravitating to the giant barbaric tiefling rather than the knight in shining armor.

when you look into karlach’s eyes you can see a glimmer of hope inside of them, just the same as when you revealed your feelings for one another and when she’d tell you her dreams of returning to her home city again in the dead of night.

“well clearly she allowed this guy to get in here, or else he’d probably have a goats head and a cows arse by now-“

“excuse me, what’d you say?”

“which means she might allow us to leave, right? probably with some invisible strings attached?” karlach’s hand lightly grips your waist, her smile wide as she even considers the possibility of the both of you leaving.

and while you try your hardest to outwardly match her enthusiasm, your mind is racing with questions and hypotheticals. this woman had a vendetta against your father, went through the trouble to take one of zariels prized soldiers and have her watch over you day in and day out, and now you could just…walk out?

karlach goes to retrieve some proper clothing while you and the ever-so-confused knight stay where you are, the man thankfully answering every question you have while you wait for your companion to come back. you can tell he desperately wants to ask about your closeness, subtly reminding you that he's been trained to take on large threats in enclosed spaces, even fighting numerous devils in his travels. you ignore it as your mind continues to race with the possibilities of what could happen when you walk through that door, if this is all some sick joke and as soon as you walk through the doorway you’ll throw up your own guts.

but it fades when karlach comes bounding back down, fully geared and with a small bag slung over her shoulder, failing to hide the optimistic smile on her face. her large hand encloses around yours, and you cant help but to return the smile and grip her hand just the slightest bit harder.

“alright pretty boy, show us the way home.”

the knight hurriedly nods and starts towards the entrance. when you reach the large stone door, the one you've stared at so many times with despair in your heart, its indescribable the feeling you have when the sun hits your face and the sounds of birds tweeting fills your ears.

karlach is shaking your hand, smile wide and eyes bright at she looks up at the sky for the first time in a decade. as you start to walk she rambles about all the foods she cant wait to try, visiting her home city again, sleeping in a real bed for once, and all you can think is that you would stick yourself in that tower again just to keep her by your side.

[peaches2217]

“Alright, I think we’re done here. Are you ready, love?”

Perfect timing. Mario shook out the blanket compressed between his hands with a dramatic flourish. After feeding it a steady supply of heat for a good five minutes straight, the entire room felt a few degrees warmer as its fabric cascaded to the ground.  “One fluffy blankie, floofed up and toasted to perfection!”

Bath Night was, by now, an easy routine: one of them washed and dried, the other swaddled and dressed, simple and efficient and predictable. That didn’t stop Peach from giggling at Mario’s theatrics as if bearing witness to them for the first time, and that certainly didn’t stop Mario’s heart from somersaulting at such a beautiful sound.

And even that didn’t compare to what his heart did as Peach passed a towel one last time over the squirming, fussy infant before her, clicking her tongue and “I know, I know, I know”ing with a gentle smile on her lips. 

He’d been assured the honeymoon phase of new parenthood would quickly fade away, slough from his shoulders at some point between the bi-hourly feedings and the 2AM crying spells. But he felt the same way watching his wife coo and kiss their freshly-bathed little girl as he’d felt seeing that little girl in her mother’s arms for the first time; wrapping the blanket he’d prepared around his daughter and holding her close felt every bit as magical as it felt the night she was born.

Two months in, and still he was waiting. He was beginning to think he’d be waiting forever.

That little girl — Cocoa Emilia Marionetti-Toadstool, Crown Princess of the Mushroom Kingdom, the very embodiment of all that was good and light and right with the world — protested noisily as Mario swaddled her, a task complicated by her tiny but persistent flailing.

“Oh, si gela, si gela! Lo so!” He maneuvered around her movements with only minimal struggle, bobbing and weaving in place in his efforts to keep her still. “Did Mamma not get the water warm enough? Oh, mio poverino ghiacciolo!”

“Mamma ensured the water was at perfect temperature, thank you,” Peach huffed as she wiped down the bathing cradle; she sounded decently affronted, but the reflection Mario caught in the vanity mirror was aglow in playfulness. “It’s not my fault standing water gets cold faster in the winter.”

“And you just let it get cold?” Mario inquired, summoning all the mock-accusation he could into his voice. “Didn’t even try bending the laws of physics for our perfect little princess?”

“We can’t all be sentient hot water bottles!” Peach harrumphed and turned her nose up, a perfect caricature of regal distaste, and Mario bit back a laugh so the noise wouldn’t startle little Cocoa. She was only now beginning to relax. They had already subjected her to enough for one night.

The art of soothing a moody baby was an art that Mario was made specifically for, he’d thought more than once. His body was stout enough to shield his daughter, strong enough to fight for her, yet soft and still enough to rock her to sleep. His heart beat loud and steady within his chest, a rhythmic pulse she sought out and relaxed into each time he held her close. “Lo senti?” he sometimes whispered to her during restless nights. “Questo cuore batte per te.”

Point in case, he cradled her to his sternum once she was secure within her blanket, and despite her fussing and fitfulness, she decided just as quickly that she wasn’t so upset after all. The plush pink fabric enveloping her retained heat well enough, but Mario wasn’t one to take chances; his hands tingled as he called forth his Firebrand, and little Cocoa sighed beneath the additional warmth, nuzzling in closer to her father.

Being a “sentient hot water bottle” always had its perks, but he was more grateful for those powers now than ever.

“Actually,” Peach said a few minutes later, “that’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

Mario hummed to assure her he was listening. The art of soothing came naturally to him, but the art of diapering did not, attentive and nimble-fingered though he was, so he double- and triple-checked the fastenings from all angles as she continued.

“How do you suppose her powers will manifest? Will she be able to summon fire as well, or will her abilities be limited to the ones I possess?”

Content with his handiwork, Mario began the simpler task of buttoning Cocoa into a onesie — footed for extra warmth and pastel pink like ninety percent of her wardrobe — and, as Peach’s words processed in his brain, he wondered.

Bleary sapphire eyes blinked up at him. Poor little Cocoa must have been exhausted. Since her last nap, she’d had a meal, a burping, a bowel movement, a bath, and now a change of clothes. That was a full day’s work for a newborn, and it hadn’t even been two hours. “It’s that Brooklyn work ethic,” Luigi once suggested. “Always putting in overtime. Mamma would’ve been so proud.”

Mario had yet to consider his daughter learning to heal, and to bless, and to levitate, and to summon fire and control it; there was plenty enough happening in the present. He scooped her and her blanket from the changing table once she was dressed and kissed her gently. Yes, for now, she had to focus on growing up big and strong. Then they could worry about magic.

The oddity of Peach’s question struck him as he transferred their child into her arms.

“Hey, hold up — tesoro, you’re making some pretty bold claims there!”

“Hm?” Peach’s eyes flicked to the rocking chair a few steps away, and Mario quickly made himself useful before bothering to elaborate, patting the cushions to ensure maximum comfort and holding the back of the chair steady for her.

“Well, why would she only have your abilities?” he asked as she lowered herself into the seat. “And how do you even know if she’ll have either of ours? It’s pretty much fifty-fifty on all sides, yeah?”

Peach muttered her thanks as she adjusted herself and her baby, and Mario carefully released the chair, taking a small step back so she had room to rock.

“It might be up to chance in the end, yes,” she continued as she settled into a gentle pace, back and forth and back again. “That said, the magic within me has passed through generations by birth. Predecessors who couldn’t wield wish power have always been exceptions to the rule.”

Mario Aaaaaahed in understanding. “And my Firebrand is first-generation, just like my mamma and papa, yeah?”

Peach turned her head, nodding as well as she could over her shoulder. “And given that it’s not innate, who’s to say whether it can be passed down?”

The beginning of an agreement died on Mario’s tongue. Not innate. He wasn’t born with it, no, but he certainly hadn’t gained it by way of study and incantations.

“Well, I’d say it’s pretty ‘innate.’ I mean…” He looked down at his right hand, rotating it in the soft lights of the nursery, examining the dark hair and skin lines and veins; with a single thought of Fire, so quick and routine that his brain barely registered it as a word, familiar heat flowed into that hand, and with a deliberate flick of his wrist, it was engulfed in a puff of flame.

He observed the flame for a moment before shaking out his hand to extinguish it. No burn marks, no singed hair, no reddening or blisters. Just skin that was hot to the touch. “Don’t need a fancy spell or a magic wand to do that,” he bragged, trusting she at least felt his flame if she hadn’t seen it.

Her expression was hidden from him, but he could see her cheeks drawing upward in a smile, and that was every bit as satisfying. “Still, it was given to you. Does it reside within your body, or is it entwined with your genetic makeup? Is it something that can be passed down?”

Mario thought on this in silence, resting his hand on the chair’s back and idly following along with Peach’s movements. The powers he and his brother gained in the Oho Oasis weren’t well-documented at all, but they were divine in origin (though he was still uncertain of the extent of that divinity). He’d never questioned how it worked on a biological level. It just was. But the more he thought on it, the more likely he considered that power to be part of him, woven into his very DNA just as Peach’s magic was tied to her soul. 

And if it wasn’t, well… that didn’t mean Cocoa couldn’t receive that power as well. Possibility and probability were two separate factors.

He stood on his toes to better peer over his wife’s shoulder. It was strange to think about. At that very moment, this tiny, fragile, precious life they had created could be storing magic the likes of which most would never experience, much less use. Maybe it existed for now as a whisper that would strengthen with time. Maybe it already flowed through her blood at full force, waiting only for its wielder to develop the fine motor skills necessary to summon it.

Just how powerful was that magic? How deeply did it run, and what sorts of powers would it grant her? How would they teach her to control it? What sorts of repercussions would come about as a result?

Mario knew only one thing for certain: right now, Cocoa didn’t care. She was fast asleep, her head tucked against the crease of Peach’s elbow, a trickle of drool at the corner of her mouth. Tiny hands that might one day fight or mend presently clenched at Peach’s nightgown, kneading lazily at the chiffon.

Yes, what good was ruminating on the future when the present was already so sweet?

Letting go of the chair and placing his hands on Peach’s shoulders, he called his Firebrand forth once more. No flames this time, no showy display of supernatural ability; just heat, the perfect temperature for tense, tired muscles. Peach sighed and leaned back into that heat, another quiet thanks on her lips.

“Kinda scary to think about.” Mario chuckled, massaging her shoulders and earning another pleased sigh. “I mean, a little Mini Me running around is scary enough, but a Mini Me that can float through the air and set things on fire before she even learns to tie her shoes?”

Peach’s laughter joined with his, soft and weary and sincere. “Then… let’s think about it later. How’s that sound?”

“Hm. Yeah.” He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, and he couldn’t resist lingering there, his fingers loosening Peach’s muscles and his temple resting against hers, watching the snoozing infant all cozy in her arms. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

[waywardstation]

Cloud Gazing

Ingo and Akari make out shapes of Pokémon in the clouds while taking a break from training.

This is a low-effort segment I had written to try and get myself used to just writing again -- just one simple interaction that can focus on dialogue! Nothing much goes on, just more uncle Ingo content ^^

OR read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

—————

“Hmm… well then, what about that one?”

Akari’s eyes followed Ingo’s finger as he pointed up towards one of the smaller clouds that had separated from the rest.

“That one-” Akari hummed for a moment, considering as she squinted against the sunlight. “That’s a grumpy Paras.”

Ingo’s laugh, while quiet, was one of surprise. “Grumpy? Why’s it grumpy?”

“It’s got angry eyebrows, see?” Now it was Akari’s turn to point, doing her best to try and guide his eyes to the details she interpreted. “There are its claws, and there are the mushrooms on the top.”

“I see,” He reassured her, though she suspected he couldn’t entirely make out what she saw.

The Fieldlands’ tall grass swayed as another gust swept across it, stringing along fallen leaves. The large clouds overhead covered the area in expansive traveling shadows, providing a cool reprieve from the sun — a perfect day to relax in between training sessions.

The two had opted to battle outside Jubilife’s gates today seeing as Freight, Akari’s alpha Shieldon, had recently evolved into a Bastiodon. He barely fit in the training grounds’ battle arena now, so Ingo had suggested a more open area for the sake of the surrounding buildings.

Now taking a break after several well-fought matches, Ingo’s Probopass — Freight’s battle partner — had joined the Bastiodon by one of the nearby streams to soak and cool down. Ingo and Akari had followed suit by lying down in the tall grasses. While Ingo had seemed content to just lie there and rest his legs, the break had only made Akari grow restless. It hadn’t been long before she began looking to the sky for something to find, and had started pointing out shapes of Pokémon she recognized to the warden.

“Ok wait, now it's your turn to do one. What does…” Akari scanned the sky for a moment, searching for a lone cloud. “That one look like to you?”

Ingo, who had taken the previous silence as a moment to rest his eyes, blinked up wearily; it seemed the idea of a nap was tugging at him. But he observed the cloud as it passed overhead, squinting until it graciously covered the sun from view.

“An upside-down Avalugg.” He concluded after a considerable amount of time, sounding rather confident in his answer.

“What?” Now Akari couldn’t help but blurt out a giggle, turning to look at him. “Why’s it upside down?”

“Its underside is completely flat,” The man reasoned, Akari's contagious laughter inflecting his own tone. “A perfect resemblance of an Avalugg’s back.”

Akari watched the cloud pass overhead until it once again revealed the sun from behind it. “Alright, I can kind of see it. Now… do that one over there.”

She pointed to a tall, splotchy cloud. Akari immediately thought it looked like a Hisuian Lilligant, but she wanted to know what Ingo saw.

The man gave another long stretch to ponder before he answered, though there was a certain expression on his face now, replacing the genuine thoughtfulness he conveyed earlier. “That one appears to be a Basculin with two long legs.”

“Hey!” If he wasn’t joking around with her before, he was now. “It doesn’t work like that!”

“Says who?” He sounded rather proud of himself for getting her a second time. “It’s what I see!”

“Oh fine,” Akari’s smile stayed as she returned her gaze to the sky, browsing for another shape. This time, she picked out the most convoluted, misshapen cloud she could find. It didn’t look like anything — surely this would stump him. “Ok, now do that one.”

“Two Mr. Mimes fighting over a chair.” His answer was immediate this time.

“Sto-op!” More laughter broke Akari’s outburst as she playfully shoved his shoulder. “You didn’t even look at it!”

“That is what I observed!” He insisted, keeping it going as she continued to push at him. “Look, there’s the chair in the middle, and over on the left, you can clearly discern a fist pulled back, ready to punch-”

“No you can’t!” Akari had to sit up now with how much she was laughing. By now the cloud had begun to separate at its thinnest areas, practically gone to the wind. “There’s nothing even there anymore!”

“You asked what I saw!” His gaze followed her up as he stayed where he was, lying in the grass with an amused smile in his eyes. “I am simply answering your questions!”

“Liar!” Getting up, Akari nudged him in the side with one of her legs. “Come on, I think Freight’s ready to train again. Can we do some more battles now?”

Sure enough, the overgrown Pokémon was lumbering back up the hill towards them, his own Probopass following behind — the two of them had probably been attracted to their laughter more than anything, but Ingo had to admit he was looking forward to getting back into battling too.

“Of course, Miss Akari,” The man sat back up with some effort, then got back to his feet. “Let’s get back on track with our training, then.”

[mattslolita]

lunchbox friends - n. sturniolo ( 001. )

in which ... they meet at a melanie martinez concert and become best friends. ( platonic!nick & platonic!black!fem reader )

warnings ; cussings, mentions of vape, mostly fluff!

"𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

nervousness flooded your body as you walked up towards the venue to see your favorite singer — melanie martinez.

since 2017 when you first began listening to her, she's resonated with you deeply. her lyrics which spoke poetry about real life situations, and how her song titles were innocent but the song went deeper — the cry baby album would always be your favorite and hold a special place in your heart, but when melanie dropped portals you literally had it on repeat since that day. it's safe to say nymphology was your favorite song.

unfortunately, you didn't have many friends that listened to her on the level you did, so it resulted in you not having anyone to go with. your anxiety increased due to this, because you didn't particularly like going places alone.

your hands adjusted the bands on your wrist then you smoothed your earth green long skirt from your outfit in confidence — the line was finally starting to move as you could see the arena ahead of you, causing your nerves to cease slightly as you realized you'd be breathing the same air as your favorite singer in some minutes.

when you reached the front row just behind the barricade, you found yourself next to people already — your excited nerves flowed through your veins as you looked up at the stage in anticipation.

"oh my gosh, i love your outfit!" a male's voice says from beside you, prompting you to turn to the source.

he was brunette and taller than you, a nose ring that complimented his face nicely — the kind smile on his face caused you to smile at him.

"thank you!" you said to him, your eyes traveling down to his shoes and your smile widened, "i love your shoes so much."

"thank you," he says back to you, "i really liked this whole outfit, i devoured honestly."

"period, you did that!" you giggled at him, both of you sharing another laugh with one another.

"i'm nick, by the way," he tells you, holding his hand out for you to shake.

you look at him like he's crazy before pulling him in for a hug. "i'm y/n! it's nice to meet you."

"i'm kinda nervous, this is my first concert alone," nick tells you, and you nod knowingly, "my brothers aren't really into melanie so i didn't pressure them into coming with me."

"i'm an only child, i wished i could've had siblings to come here with me," you tell nick, and he grins.

"we should definitely hang out after this, then," nick suggests, and your eyes light up and snap your fingers at him in agreeance.

"yo brothers are finna be sick of us with the way i'm gonna blast melanie all the time," you giggle, causing nick to laugh along with you.

right off the bat, you know nick matched your energy really well — he was exactly what you looked for in a friend, and it was like a breath of fresh air when all that surrounded you in the past was toxicity.

suddenly the lights dimmed, causing both you and nick to share a grin as you clamp onto his wrist excitedly — a beautiful, earthy escape came on the screen and your eyes wandered around it as you marveled at the pretty mushrooms and butterflies that littered the scenery.

"bitch oh my gosh," nick gasps quietly, tugging on your arm to capture your attention, "she's here."

"oh my fucking word."

low and behold, melanie emerges from the stage causing everyone including both you and nick to go wild upon seeing her — alot of people shamed her for the prosthetics she wore, but you thought it was one of the most creative and bravest things she'd ever pulled off. it was definitely different, but that's why you loved her so much — she never limited her creativity, always going outside of the box. and she ate every time.

"MELANIE, I LOVE YOU!" you yelled, cupping your hands around your mouth as she lets out a giggle into the microphone.

"la, how are you guys tonight?" melanie announces, and the crowd immediately whoops and hollers for her.

"girl, cause what do you mean we're breathing the same air as her right now?" nick whispers to you, causing you to laugh as he holds his phone up towards her to capture the moment.

you follow suit, also discreetly taking a few pictures of both you and nick together ( mostly of you freaking out ), before the first song comes on, her dancers coming out as well — death.

an excited squeal comes from your mouth as you and nick are now both recording each other singing along to the song silently.

"when you aren't around," you narrate with your hands, recording you and nick, "i sink into the ground. i try to pretend i'm closer to you!"

"never understand it, you're always on my mind, i cannot help it," nick sings along with you, the both of you watching as melanie and her dancers perform in front of you.

as your favorite part draws closer, you find yourself beginning to dance, feeling this song so badly as you and nick continue singing with melanie.

"BACK FROM THE DEAD, BACK FROM THE DEAD!" you both sing, holding each other's hand as you sing, "I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD, BACK FROM THE DEAD!"

you're hyping each other up at this point and you're pretty sure there's other people giving you both crazy looks, but you could care less as you're both relishing in the amazing time you're having.

pretty soon your favorite song starts playing, and you squeal at nick in excitement as you grab his shoulder. "bitch, this is my song! i'm gonna teach you to shake ass to this one!"

"bitch i'm so excited, don't fucking play with me!" nick yells back to you.

"CALL ME YOUR NYMPH, PRAISE ME FOR MARTYR, PRAISE ME FOR SIN!" you both sing to each other, "CALL ME YOUR MUSE, A SPRITE OR AN ELF THAT YOU CRY TO AND USE!"

"i will not suffer, cry under covers," melanie sings into the microphone, swaying along and you feel yourself about to get crazy, "i'm not your mother, oh oh, oh oh-"

"IT'S NYMPHOLOGY, NOT PSYCHOLOGY!" you and nick scream, and you begin throwing it back slightly, causing nick to hype you up as he records you, "BE THE MANIC PIXIE DREAM GIRL BITCH YOU FUCKING OUTTA BE!"

"damaged audity, bought by sotheby's!" melanie sings, dancing on the stage causing you and nick to cling onto each other, "auctioned to a selfish man who thinks that he's the prophecy!"

"you can't even spell that you're an expert in nymphology!" nick sings as he records melanie.

he remains blissfully unaware as you quickly open your small purse and duck your head to take a quick hit from your peach mango watermelon elfbar, blowing the smoke downwards so that nobody could notice you.

"girl let me hit that real quick," nick whispers to you and your eyes widen before you giggle and pass it to him, watching as he ducks down the same way you did to take a hit.

the rest of the concert was magical — you couldn't believe the energy that melanie produced and the amazing show that she performed, and the newest friendship that you made. even the smallest moments like when melanie giggled into the mic again whilst singing moon cycle, or the way nick gave you water when he noticed that you were running out of breath meant, that meant the most to you.

when the concert was over, you and nick were still attached at the hip as you both gushed nonstop about your favorite singer and her abilities to make this one of the best nights you've ever had.

when you both exited the venue, you two were so engaged in conversation that you almost didn't notice a group of three girls slowly approaching the both of you.

"hi, i don't mean to interrupt you guys," a brunette girl said shyly, messing with a bracelet on her wrist as she and her friends smiled at you both, "i love you guys' videos nick, and you're one of the most gorgeous girls ever."

"thank you!" both you and nick smiled at the same time, causing the girls to giggle.

"i was wondering if i could get a picture with you both?" she asked, looking between the both of you.

"are you okay with that, y/n?" nick asks you, and you beam at the girl with a nod.

"did you guys wanna be in it too?" you asked her friends sweetly, both of them nodding with shy smiles.

the brunette girl gets in the middle as you and nick gather around her, one friend next to nick whilst the other stands on the other side of you — you smile into the camera as the girl quickly snaps three photos, and your heart could melt at the way she gushed in admiration.

"thank you guys so much!" she said to the both of you, "have a great night!"

"you too, love!" nick tells her, and you wave to them kindly.

"videos?" you querie nick with a smile, "what kind of videos do you make?"

"me and my brothers have a youtube channel together, we do vlogs and car videos," nick explains, and you nod in intrigue. "this is actually one of the first nights where i get to relax and have fun like this, honestly."

"i love that for you, then," you tell nick, then you wriggle your eyebrows with a grin, "and i would love even more to meet these brothers of yours."

nick rolls his eyes at this playfully. "girl, they're gonna wanna steal you from me!"

"that's not finna happen, cause you were gang before they were!" you tell him.

"do you live in la by any chance?" nick asks you.

"i do!" you smile, pulling your phone out and going to contacts, "give me your number and shit so we can text each other!"

"we need to plan to hang out again, too!" nick adds, as he puts his number into your phone.

"lemme call an uber before it gets too late," you pout slightly, not yet wanting to stop talking to nick. "it was so amazing meeting you, nick!"

"girl, it was great meeting you too!" nick smiles.

you bring him in for yet another hug, then ask him various times if he had a ride home to make sure he was safe — after finally reassuring you, your uber had pulled up not long after and with one final hug to nick for the night, you hop inside, waving him goodbye.

when you got home, the first thing you did was turn on the heater since it was cold in your house.

you slipped your sandals off and put your purse on the foot of your bed, going into your bathroom to wash off your makeup. a text from nick caused you to grin as you got your makeup wipes and began with the blush on your face.

twinflame❤‍🔥💋

girl tell me why i accidentally sent one of the videos to my brother and he IMMEDIATELY asked for your instagram👀

twinn🤞💜

nick😭😭😭😭

is he cute tho ?🤣

twinflame❤‍🔥💋

🙄 y'all haven't even met yet and it's already starting

i'm disappointed.

twinn🤞💜

BYEEE

no but don't give him my gram yet, i wanna meet in person😝

twinflame❤‍🔥💋

do you wanna come over sometime next weekend ?

we can go out to eat somewhere then come back and hang out!

twinn🤞💜

absolutelyyyy !

i'm so down & i'll text you to let you know !

twinflame❤‍🔥💋

goodnight girl❤

twinn🤞💜

goodnight stinkaa😘

twinflame❤‍🔥💋 liked this message!

you exited out of your messages with a content smile, finding yourself extremely excited for the next time you both would hang out. you could tell this friendship would be a good one, and you were hoping it was better than the type of friends you had in the past.

( lilly's section 💌 )

cause this been in my drafts for TOO long, & i love my fav so yk i had to make a best friends series for him😝 for my twinnie @thenickgirl happy early birthday to us🤭.

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @junnniiieee07 @astrowh0r3 @v33angel @ilovechrissturniolo1 @e1ias3 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturn777 @stasiesturn @prettypinkprincess15 @breeloveschris @summerssover @mayhem-72 @riasturns @chrissturniolossidehoe @moonk1ss3d @v33angel @h3arts4harry @stargirll567 @bitchydragonparadise @heartsforchrisandmatt @pepsienthusiasts @tillies33ssss @thenickgirl @sturnprime @summerssover @k4di333 @pinksturniolo @middlepartmatt

[incorrectbatfam]

Could you please do some headcanons about Batmans cooking disasters over the years?

Age 5: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

Age 6: He decorates a cookie so badly another kid cries until they throw up

Age 7: He tries to make a PB&J and the countertop is sticky for a week

Age 8: He tries to make Martha's chicken noodle soup but ends up crying on the kitchen floor surrounded by half-chopped vegetables

Age 9: He tries to impress a houseguest by recreating Thomas's mixology tricks (sans alcohol). There's still a stain on the ceiling to this day

Age 10: He makes green eggs. It's not on purpose. He's never even read the book

Age 11: He makes lava in the school cafeteria

Age 12: He tries to make cheese bread by drilling holes into a baguette and filling it with melted nacho cheese

Age 13: He melts a cutting board in the oven

Age 14: He folds a Pop Tart

Age 15: The chocolate-covered bananas he makes for the school bake sale come out looking very very wrong

Age 16: He's asked to drop a home economics class after mistaking refried beans for pumpkin puree in a pie

Age 17: He boils eggs in the carton

Age 18: He makes his entire freshman dorm evacuate after burning his ramen to ash

Age 19: He sculpts a severed hand out of meatloaf and is sent to the university psychologist

Age 20: He tries to bake a cake but doesn't have a cake pan, so he pours the batter right in the oven

Age 21: He tries Thomas's mixology tricks again, this time with alcohol. One of the tricks is flipping it over his head. He ends up losing part of his vision for 3 days

Age 22: He burns water. Harley Quinn is there. She still holds it over his head

Age 23: He packs his first patrol snack as Batman. It's a chocolate bar wrapped in a tortilla. The chocolate melts onto his gloves and he drops the tortilla down a sewer grate

Age 24: He makes an ice cream cookie sandwich to eat while he and Batgirl work on a case, but he's so engrossed in the work that he doesn't notice it melt until Babs points it out

Age 25: He enters the first annual Justice League cook-off and immediately gets banned from ever entering again

Age 26: He tries to comfort little Dickie Grayson by making fried cornbread from a book of Roma comfort recipes. It turns out about as well as you'd expect when you give Bruce Wayne hot oil. Bruce is genuinely bummed out, but Dick says it's the thought that counts

Age 27: Clark delivers a huge hunk of beef from the farm. Instead of waiting for Alfred to come back, Bruce and Dick try to break it down with a power saw

Age 28: Bruce and Dick's latkes are burned so badly they can play floor hockey with them

Age 29: He makes stuffed mushrooms. Badly. Like imagine the worst way you can fuck up a mushroom. It still won't compare to what Bruce did. And it's for a potluck with the West-Allens that Barry won't let him live down

Age 30: Bruce sees Dick struggling to make ravioli and he's like "Let me show you how it's done" before proceeding to make it infinitely worse

Age 31: Bruce sees a hungry Jason Todd and the first thing he does when they return to the manor is make a double-decker bread sandwich. That's bread with two more slices of bread in between

Age 32: Bruce packs Dick and Jason's lunchboxes when Alfred is out of town. They're supposed to include a salad. Instead, Dick gets a whole head of lettuce and Jason's is just a bottle of ranch

Age 33: He makes hot chocolate after patrol... but forgets the chocolate

Age 34: The Manor is too cold, so Bruce tries to warm it up by making Jason's favorite soup. His hands shake the whole time. Suddenly, he's eight years old again, sitting on the kitchen floor surrounded by scraps reminding him of his failure

Age 35: Jack and Janet Drake are out of the country again, leaving young Timmy by himself. Bruce decides to bring some dinner over. It's baked perfectly, but it's full of things that shouldn't be anywhere near a casserole dish. They end up ordering takeout and watching old detective movies together

Age 36: Steph walks through how to make waffles. Bruce is standing there, watching closely and taking notes. They still come out looking radioactive

Age 37: Cass asks if they can get smoothies. Bruce says he can make them at home. She gives him a warning look but that's not enough to stop him. Cue Bruce forgetting to put the lid on the blender

Age 38: Jason's first night back at home, Bruce tries to make that soup. It shoots out like a geyser and hits the lights. He's panicking until he hears Jason laugh, and then the soup doesn't matter

Age 39: Damian screws up hummus and he desperately tries to hide it so people won't see him as inadequate at something so basic. Instead of getting upset, Bruce assures him it's okay and offers to fix it. (He doesn't fix it, he just makes it worse)

Age 40: Bruce's birthday happens while he's fake-dead and away from home. He grabs a convenience store cupcake and sticks a single candle on it. Then he closes his eyes, pretends his family is around him, and makes a wish. (The candle droops and sets the hotel sheets on fire)

Age 41: Back at the Manor, he attempts to make lemonade on a particularly hot day. Selina offers to help, but Bruce declines, saying, "How hard can it be?" (Spoiler alert: it's not supposed to be full of seeds)

Age 42: Kate shows him a video of Canadians pouring maple syrup into the snow to make candy, so he gets her to boil the syrup so they can do it together. The problem comes when they can't control the pour and end up with a glob the size of Damian

Age 43: As part of a school project, Bruce and Duke try to deduce the Coca-Cola secret formula. Duke's teacher takes a point off because at the beginning he told her he'd taste the results, but there's no way he's doing that now

Age 44: The family gets together to make a full English breakfast Alfred's birthday. Each person takes a part—Dick has eggs, Jason has the grilled tomatoes, Tim has mushrooms, Duke has the bacon, Steph and Cass are tag-teaming the sausages, Damian just has to open a can of beans, and Bruce needs to put bread in the toaster. It goes South immediately when Damian reaches for his katana instead of the can opener

Age 45: Bruce puts tinfoil in the microwave. Alfred shakes his head and laughs

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐑𝐮𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐝

pairing: pre outbreak!joel miller x f!reader, one sided tommy miller x f!reader

genre: angst, smut, romance, slow burn, mutual pining, secret relationship

series summary: After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

word count: 3.4k

chapter summary: You have dinner with Joel and Sarah. Tommy has a preposition that starts the process of healing.

warnings: mostly fluff with a hint of hurt/comfort, mentions of grief

a/n: I should've just called this chapter "I wanna hangout with the millers" Also thank you to all who showed interest in the series, I'm really excited about this one 💜

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Joel sits at the head of the table. There’s a navy blue napkin between his fingers, his eyes continuously darting to the kitchen. The napkin is subjected to his fidgeting, twisted, tugged, and torn, the remnants scattering across the table like confetti. You can’t stop staring. Your own fingers, too, betray your nerves, as you nervously trace the contours of the fork, its smooth surface a pleasant chill against your burning fingertips. 

The only noise that occupies the silence is the clatter of dishes and the sizzling of meat. Your eyes move from Joel’s fingers to Sarah in the kitchen. Your gaze drifts from Joel's fingers to Sarah in the kitchen, where she hums a melody unknown to you, her head bobbing in time with the tune, her wild curls escaping the confines of her hair tie. She seems at peace. Which is in complete contrast to what you and Joel are feeling right now. 

It's a mystery to you, this strange dynamic between you and Joel. You're neighbors, you see his brother and daughter nearly every day, yet when the two of you are alone together, which is a rarity in itself, words seem to fail you both, as if they've become adversaries instead of a means of communication. It leaves you to question why it is that you both seem to struggle when in each other's presence.

Taking a deep breath, the lingering garlic and tomato scent filling your lungs, you call out to her, “Are you sure you don’t need any help?” 

“I’m sure,” she answers without looking up. “I’m almost done anyway. Just soaking the buns in the sauce,” 

Buns…in the sauce? 

When you turn to Joel, he’s already looking at you. His lips turn up, arms crossing over his broad chest. He beats you to it before you can voice out the question echoing in your head, “Don’t knock it till you try it.” 

The effect his voice has on you is instant. It’s playful, soft, a barely there cool wave of the sea. A ghost of a shiver licks your spine, forcing you to sit straighter. You both relax and tense that you’re finally talking. You swallow, look down at your plate, then wet your lips. 

“As long as there aren’t any mushrooms we’re good,” 

He cocks an eyebrow and scratches his beard, “Now, what kinda person doesn’t like mushrooms?” 

You blow a raspberry into the air which makes him grin. With a dramatic flail, you raise your hands to the air and tilt your head back. “Everywhere I go it’s the same. When will this judgment end?” You call out to an invisible god. 

Joel laughs. 

He laughs. 

And it feels so fucking good to hear the sound. You’re pretty sure this is the first time he openly laughed next to you. Not a polite giggle, or a stifled chuckle. But a full-on, chest-vibrating laugh. It feels good. Sure maybe you didn’t paint anything today, again, but you made the neighbor that you thought hated you laugh. If that isn’t a win you don’t know what is. Your own smile blossoms on your lips. It’s a small one. However, you think it sends the point across that you’re happy to be here. 

His hands fall to his thighs, hidden underneath the tablecloth. “Maybe me and Tommy can change your mind. Our grilled mushrooms are to die for,” 

“Good luck with that,” you tease. “I’ve been hating them since the day I was born,” 

As soon as you finish, Sarah places a large plate of burgers down the middle. They aren’t really big, maybe a bit bigger than your hand. Just like Sarah said, they’re covered in sauce. But the smell is to die for; meaty, garlicky with a hint of spice. She plops down to the spot right across from you.

“Hating what?” she asks as Joel reaches out and places two burgers on her plate then two on yours. He takes four. “Because if it’s fish I agree,” 

“Fish?” you balk at her. “You don’t like fish?” 

Joel snorts, “Don’t act like her’s is sacrilegious when you don’t like mushrooms,” 

Sarah’s eyes go wide, eyebrows reaching all the way to her hairline, “You don’t like mushrooms?” 

“Okay, I did not come here to be judged for my food dislikes,” you silence them both with a light-hearted click of your tongue. Father and daughter look at each other, smiling. “So what are we eating?” 

“Wet burgers,” Sarah perks with excitement. “The buns are dipped in a garlicky tomato sauce and there’s just a beef patty in the middle. They’re really good.” 

Joel nods and picks up a burger with one hand. He addresses you without looking, “I wasn’t sure about it either, but the darn things actually taste decent,” 

“You should never doubt my cooking skills,” Sarah answers and stick her tongue out. You let out a hushed giggle. 

“Darlin’ I pick out eggshells from my breakfast every mornin’” 

“The eggs you buy are faulty.” 

“You guys should join me for breakfast,” you cut in, raising the burger to your lips. Red sauce stains your fingers tips. “I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes,” 

You don’t look, but you feel Joel’s eyes on you. The small hairs scattered over your arms raise, heat building under your skin. Ignoring it, you take a big bite of your burger. 

You’re mad that it tastes so good—good enough that you moan, very loudly, and follow it up with another bite without even properly swallowing the first. 

“Told you,” Joel grunts. 

Sarah’s eyes sparkle. It’s such a beautiful display of emotion. The eyebrows move first, lifting at the same time her lips start to stretch from side to side. The happiness always hits the eyes last. It’s also the place where emotion lingers the most. Long after it drains away from the rest of the features. 

The happiness that Sarah feels is so vivid there that it almost sparks something within you. A faint image of a girl appears in your mind. A girl similar to Sarah sitting in front of a window closed in with climbing roses, only bits of light shining over her skin—

The image fades as quickly as it appeared. You chew thoughtfully, a sting settling behind your eyelids. 

“You like it?” she asks. You nod and she turns to Joel with a smug grin. “See, people like what I cook. I should be a chef,” 

“I never said the burgers taste bad.” 

You chuckle, taking another bite. 

“Cut the girl some slack. It’s harder to function in the mornings.” 

Despite your protests, Joel is set on walking you home. 

You tell him that it’s only two steps away, he doesn’t listen and shakes his head, “If it’s such a short distance it shouldn’t be a problem to walk it with you.” 

You’re holding the doggy bag Sarah prepared for you. It rustles in the wind, the burgers still radiating a bit of heat, it makes your skin come alive where it brushes against. The pleasant conversation that seemed to flow effortlessly with Sarah present is nowhere to be found. You dared to open your mouth a total of two times but not a single syllable followed through. 

So instead of forcing it, you focus on the pleasant ambiance; the soft wind that feels like velvet on your skin, the soft blades of grass that tickle your bare ankles, and the moon that pours from the heavens. All of it combined to form the perfect night. 

You cheat a glance at Joel, his hands are in his pockets, one cheek hallowed out, a clear sign that he’s gnawing at it from the inside. He’s a perfect canvas for the raining moonlight. Dark hair, dark eyebrows, dark eyes. His skin glows in a hue that you can only describe as angelic, the fading scars more vivid in color. 

You stare longer than you realize. He steals a glance and clears his throat. 

You notice that he’d stopped walking, and your body had too, just by instinct. 

“We’re here,” he says, voice thick with an emotion you can’t place. 

“So we are,” you answer dumbly, forcing your eyes to move to the door. Recollection hits when you see the two chairs on the porch. You turn back to Joel. “Do you want to sit with me for a while?” 

He blinks, brows pinching together in confusion. “Is something wrong?” 

“Oh no, sorry I should’ve made that clear. I just remembered that when I first moved in I asked if I could ask you questions about my grandfather then never did,” your eyes drop to the ground. Your chest feels tight and uncomfortable. “I guess I never had the chance to ask you before. But we don’t have to now.” 

Joel isn’t the type of man to feel regret. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling it right this second. 

His hand touches your shoulder. A brush of fingertips that takes you by surprise and makes you flinch. Joel recoils quickly, fingers curling into his palm as he pulls away. 

“We can sit,” he says. “I have time.” 

You observe the stars and the moon. Something you used to do frequently with your grandfather whenever you stayed over. 

Something must be wrong with you because you don't remember the last time. 

You take a series of deep breaths. Collecting your thoughts and preparing yourself to ask Joel what you wanted to ask. You know what your first question is going to be. It scares you to actually go through with it. The minutes tick by. The night grows darker, the stars brighter. But he doesn’t rush you. He doesn’t say a word. He looks up to the sky with you, dark brown flicking from star to star. When you look at him you can see the sky directly reflected in his eyes. Your breath catches in your throat. 

“Was he happy?” you finally ask. Your voice sounds scratchy to your own ears. Joel leans back into his chair, fingertips digging into his palm enough so that he feels the sting of blunt nails. He swallows thickly before turning to you. 

“He was,” he answers. “He talked an awful lot about you and your brother. He was proud of you,” 

You laugh at that, it’s a sudden voice that booms from your chest. Unexpected, and jarring in the silence of the night, “Not so much my brother?” 

“Let’s say he ain’t a fan of the choices he made. Not a fan of the military that one,” a small smile peeks underneath his mustache. “He did still love him though. You can tell him that if he asks,” 

You nod, eyes once again tracing over every star in the sky, “Noted.” 

Comfortable silence envelopes you both. Joel makes no move to get up and return home. His words had doused the fear that lingered deep in your heart. 

He was happy. In his last days, he was still talking, complaining about your brother, and saying that he was proud of you. You’re sure you have more questions but all of them seem to slip your mind for now. He was happy. That’s all you need to know. 

“Hey,” you hear him call out, voice a rough whisper. “Are you okay?” 

Without looking away from the sky, you raise your hand to your face, fingertips touching the wet streaks going down your cheeks. Your hand drops to your mouth, the salt stings your chapped lips. You close your eyes and take deep breaths. You should be done crying.

But then why is your throat swelling? The simple act of breathing becomes harder and harder. 

When you open your eyes he’s there, kneeling, one leg tucked under him with the other firm on the ground. His fingers brush a line down your forearms, goosebumps rising in their wake. 

“Do you need me to get you anything?” he asks, his eyes looking rounder than ever. “We can talk about it if you need to darlin’. All I want you to do is say something to me so you calm down okay?” 

You nod, and his fingers tighten around your wrist, “Words. Please.” 

“I’m—I’m good,” your voice sounds like it belongs to someone else. You wet your lips and try again. “I’m good. Sorry, I was actually happy. I don’t know what came over me,” 

“You’re still grievin’. And I doubt anyone with a heart would expect you to apologize for that. Do you need anythin’?” 

You shake your head and Joel stands up, the warmth of his hand going away with him. There’s a brief pause where you don’t know what to do. Your eyes are still wet. Chest tight. You follow the way he moves; taking a step back and rubbing the corner of his jaw with the pad of his thumb. The sudden mood change disorientates you. He’s anxious. The hand that touched you, twitching like it’s been burned. 

“I think you need some sleep,” he says, taking a step down backward. “If anythin’ happens call me—or Tommy,” 

Tommy. 

The uttered name feels like a slap to the face, a rekindling of a feeling that makes you feel small. A complete mess. 

Of course, Joel doesn’t want to deal with all your shit. He’s just being nice that’s all. He already has his fair share of baggage, he doesn’t need yours to stack over it as well. You understand. And to a degree you’re grateful. It had been a lovely evening, one that would make you smile upon remembering. In the end, he’s giving you the comfort of knowing that you can call him—as a last resort. 

Standing up, you smile. He’s about to hug you good night, you can tell by the way his body leans forward, arms starting to stretch from both sides. But you stop him by extending a quick hand.

“Goodnight,” you say. His eyes drop to your hand, confusion stirs in his eyes. A soft sigh part his lips and he closes his eyes, taking your hand into his. 

“Goodnight, neighbor.” 

You stand behind the counter, wiping down the counters with a damp rag as the last of the customers filter out of the shop. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air, mixing with the scent of baked goods from earlier in the day.

Beside you, Olivia moves with an easy grace as she washes the final dishes of the night. Her hair, thinly braided and made into two separate low ponytails, falls in loose waves around her shoulders. Her dark skin glows in the dim light of the shop, and her hazel eyes sparkle with amusement as she catches your eye. 

“You have someone waiting for you,” 

Your brows furrow as you follow her gaze. There’s a matte grey truck out and inside you see Tommy, thumbs impatiently drumming against the steering wheel. You hold your gaze, he peers inside the coffee shop, he waves and you wave back, then you hold one finger up signaling him that he’ll have to wait a bit. 

“You should go,” Olivia says. “I’ll close up,” 

You raise an eyebrow, not really willing to leave your only friend alone to clean up after you, “You sure?” 

“Yeah yeah,” he waves you off, glossy lips stretching into a full grin. “Tell your boyfriend I say hi,” 

“Liv…he’s not my boyfriend,” you shake your head but you’re smiling. “He’s a friend. A good one,” 

Olivia pouts and you let out a laugh as you untie your apron. “Why not? He’s cute,” 

“I didn’t say he wasn’t—Also we’re still on for Saturday right?” 

“You know it, babe.” 

You head to the back of the shop to grab your bag. As you sling it over your shoulder, you make your way back to the front of the shop and bid Olivia farewell. Tomorrow is your day off so you’ll be seeing her Saturday. She waves to you and Tommy, who—in a state of slight confusion—waves back. 

Outside, the warmth of the night envelops you, and you can feel sweat beads starting to form on your skin. You make your way over to Tommy's truck and he greets you with a grin as he leans over and opens the door for you.

“How was your day?” he asks, turning the key and filling the inside with a familiar hum. “I’ll save you the trouble of asking mine; It was shit and I don’t wanna talk about it. I just need food—you good for some fried chicken?” 

“If you wanted me not to ask about it you shouldn’t have phrased it like that,” you grin, playfully punching his shoulder. “So what happened?”

Tommy sighs. He flattens his palm against the steering wheel and makes a turn. “Let’s just say that I fell into some very questionable fluids and Joel has pictures,” before you can say anything he adds. “Chicken?” 

“Chicken sounds good,” you grin, turning your eyes ahead. “And I can’t wait to see those pictures,” 

“Please don’t.”

You notice that something is off by the way Tommy’s fingers curl around the steering wheel. The truck shakes as you wait at a red light. Your eyes are fixated on it, burning your irises. “Are you okay?” he blurts, prompting you to pull away from the red light. A circle of blue forms right in the middle of your eyes. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Joel said that you cried last night. I probably shouldn’t say anythin’ but he mentioned it to me in good faith. And I’m worried,”

You internally coil into yourself. Your stomach rolls, hands on your lap forming tight fists. “You don’t need to be—” 

The truck starts to move again and he raises a hand, silencing you. “I’m just tryin’ to say I might have an idea that might help. If you’re willing,” 

“And what’s that?” you hate how closed off you sound but you can’t help it. 

“You need to change the house up a bit,” he answers, he’s talking like he always does but for some reason it feels like he’s mocking you instead. “And I know that’s hard to hear, so, how about we start from a room? Just one room that’s all yours, new paint, new furniture, new things. I’ll help you build it,” 

“I don’t want to trouble you,” 

“If it was gonna be trouble I wouldn’t have offered it,” he scoffs, his eyes flitting between you and the road. “I’m off tomorrow so I can come by then. Sounds good?” 

A soft smile breaches your lips, “Sounds great.” 

Joel can’t stop thinking about her. 

Her smile, her laughter. The feel of her skin under his fingertips. The way she looked at the stars. How the night sky came alive in her eyes. None of it he can ever forget. Her voice cracked when she spoke, her eyes sparkled under the white moon. It all felt like a movie to him. The tears. The heavy breathing. He calmed her down. She actually listened and allowed him to help. 

His life wasn’t a movie though. Some stories didn’t have a happy ending—Some relationships are never meant to last— not even begin. His happy ending was Sarah. The moment she was born his life became a bright light that continuously blinds him. 

She’ll have her happy ending too. Just not with him. Someone else, maybe his brother. At least he would still have you close then. He could still see you. 

He wanted to hug her. Wrap his arms around her as an unrealistic promise to never let  go. But she didn’t want that. He blamed the fact that she was still emotional, too raw to be touched. Some part of him wanted to believe that. He didn’t want to feel hurt by the offered handshake. 

Joel swallows down the disappointment. A thick knot in his throat. He grabs his jacket. He’s about to leave and invite her over for dinner again when he hears Tommy’s truck pulling in. 

He really shouldn’t but he goes to look out the window. She jumps out of the truck, almost tripping. Tommy’s laughter follows and he offers her his arm. She takes it, the two of them walking to the door. The sight angers him but he’s not sure why. A warm, boiling feeling rolling in his gut. It makes him feel dirty almost. As if he’d betrayed his brother. He hasn’t. 

He wouldn’t. 

Joel feels helpless as he hangs his coat back, heading to the living room. He falls to the couch, a heave to his chest. 

Joel needs to stop thinking about her. 

[charlie-the-ghost64]

I love Dr.Mario. He’s great. But, I had an idea for another au- details for it are below the cut :]

Main story

Mario and Luigi live together in a separate apartment from their family. They’d originally been working together at the wrecking company when Mario had finally been convinced by Luigi to go to school for his dream job- being a doctor.

Luigi stayed on at the wrecking company, insisting at least one of the two needed a full time job. Mario, not wanting his little brother to miss out on the chance of getting his own dream job, promised Luigi they’d get him into college after he started working. Luigi never got to take him up on that offer, though he wasn’t too sure what he’d chose to study in the first place.

The first year of med school, Mario kept trying to work part time with Luigi. But, this turned out to be a very rough decision. He was struggling to balance work with his classes, not to mention how much he needed to study. It didn’t take long for Luigi to notice his brother struggling, so, Luigi had him quit. Luigi promised his big brother he’d handle the money, he’d just take an extra shift every now and then (almost four times a week).

Luigi takes a lot of night shifts on-top of his already heavy workload in the day. Due to this, he wears a knee brace (bad knees) while at work. Spike is absolutely awful to him. He’d been bad before, but without Mario to give him confidence, he’s quickly become the laughing stock of the team. He’s forced to do any job no one else wants. He’d have quit by now if he could find a job that wouldn’t be a pay cut.

Mario would often use Luigi as a practice dummy or study partner. Study groups are nice, but Mario always got too distracted by wanting to get to know everyone and didn’t have enough time to actually work. Luigi meanwhile is more than happy to help, spite both of them being partially asleep during it. Luigi usually is the one to fall asleep first.

One night the two had been together in the car when Luigi got called in to go check out some strange house. Mario was partially convinced it was a prank, but agreed to stay in the car and wait for his little brother. He ended up going down into the basement himself after the thirty minute mark.

This is where the two (Luigi first, then Mario) had found the warp pipe. He went in, Mushroom Kingdom, scary dragon-turtle-koopa thing, talking mushrooms, ect ect. Since he was fascinated by the world, and cost of living was so much better, the two soon move there.

They do occasionally visit their family, though they try to avoid the subject of their new place. Neither was sure how their parents would react to it. Mario did end up graduating to be a doctor, just for the species they thought. He works in a hospital in the Mushroom Kingdom. Luigi’s content being a plumber, but, he did like working with his and his big brother’s karts. Maybe he would look into it someday.

Princess Peach

Both brothers know and care for the princess. Mario’s primary interactions with her include..well, being her primary care doctor.

They’ll do a small bit of catching up during those appointments. And by that, I mean Peach takes complete advantage of being in the presence of someone who isn’t in her court and she can trust not to spread to all corners of The Mushroom Kingdom. Mario mainly just nods his head as he handled the routine things, but he did give his opinions when asked. She liked having his outside perspective. Sometimes she’d have him come to the palace just to talk, spite Mario having told her before that he had sick patients to tend to while on the clock. So instead, he got invited over during his off days. He’d given up on being professional awhile ago.

You could imagine her shock when she discovered her favorite doctor had a brother. She’d insisted the two join her for dinner, having been very curious to know what the brother of what a quiet and calming man would be like. During the dinner, the two hit it off very well after discovering they’d been reading the same books.

Dinners quickly became a weekly event, Mario primarily just enjoying listening to the two discuss random books he’d never read.

Random

Luigi and Mario had met Daisy after living in the Mushroom Kingdom for about a year. Luigi and Daisy’s first conversation had been about sports. More specifically tennis. Luigi had been very nervous when she’d practically demanded to play him so she could give him a challenge. One accidental tennis ball to the face later, the two became good friends.

Both Mario and Luigi are fluent in Italian and often speak it when just talking to the other person. Occasionally one will forget to switch back to English for the rest of the group.

Mario likes to cook breakfast for himself and Luigi when he has a morning shift. He considered it a relaxing way to start the day. Luigi will usually jokingly ask if his start has to involve a full load of dishes.

Luigi continues to wear a knee brace even after he finally quit working for Spike. His knees just never recovered from all the pressure they’d been under. Luckily, he had a good pain tolerance.

Mario tends to be more quiet than others off the clock. He’ll speak if he has to, but he prefers to just sit and listen instead of being the one to talk someone’s head off. If someone (primarily Peach and Luigi) wants to ramble or rant for hours on end? He’ll more than happily be sitting across from them with a soft smile, nodding along as he sipped on some coffee.

Mario has absolutely no fashion sense. Mixing and matching patterns that have no right being together is his favorite. Not exactly because of how he looked, he didn’t really care about that, but because of the way his little brother and Peach would cringe at the sight of him. Peach has amazing fashion sense, of course. Primarily wearing gorgeous dresses that were occasionally her own ideas.

Luigi’s a good middle ground for the two. Sometimes his outfits are questionable, sometimes they’re more fashionable like Peach. He’s fully aware of the fact that sometimes his outfits just aren’t great. He tends to ask Peach for help in that regard once the two had gotten comfortable enough with each other. Surely if she can make her own dresses she can tell him not to overlap patterns.

Mario tends to hang out with Toad when Peach didn’t need him to vent to. The two like going on hikes in the woods together. Mario thought it was refreshing to get outside and exercise, Toad found it fun to adventure into the wilderness.

That’s all! Thank you for reading down to this point! I hope you enjoyed! If you have any suggestions for how to improve my writing or formatting I’d greatly appreciate it!!