#you’ll always be my little peanut

[requiemforthepoets]

baby peanut! 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x wife!reader

SUMMARY: keeping your pregnancy from lando was proven to be very hard when all you want is tell him the amazing news that you both are expecting again. but since his birthday was coming up, you waited for his special day to tell him.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: reader is french-russian, multicultural household, established relationships, pregnancy, typos, and gramatical errors

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HAPPY LANDO DAY!!!!! was debating on posting a new fic for him, but decided to just make it a part of the norris family series, though this can be read as a stand alone. hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The soft morning light was just beginning to filter through the white curtains when you stirred awake, glancing over to see Lando fast asleep beside you. His peaceful face looked even more boyish, framed by the tousled strands of hair he hadn’t bothered to tame before collapsing into bed after last night’s stream. It had been hours before he joined you in bed, he and Max laughing and gaming into the early morning, and you knew he deserved this rest.

Just as you began to carefully sit up, you heard a soft rustling sound from the bedroom doorway. Peeking over, you spotted a small figure, a very familiar figure—a little silhouette with tousled hair, just like Lando’s, and sparkling eyes, trying best to tiptoe into the room. It was Thylane, with her tiny hands clutching her favorite blankie. You could see that she was struggling to hold back a giggle as she glanced over at her sleeping father.

Smiling, you brought a finger to your lips, silently shushing her. Thylane’s eyes widened, and she stopped mid-step, freezing in the doorway. You motioned gently for her to come closer to you, and she padded over quietly, looking up at you expectantly.

“Is Papa awake yet?” She whispered, voice barely more than a breath.

The eagerness in her tone made your heart swell, and you could not help but lean down, kissing her lightly on the forehead.

“No, mon amour,” you whispered back, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Papa had a very late night with Uncle Max. He needs his sleep, let’s let him rest a little longer, hm?”

Thylane nodded, her expression brightening at the thought of what you had in mind. “But it’s Papa’s birthday! I want to say happy birthday to him!”

“I know, my love. But how about we go to the kitchen, just you and me, and make a special birthday breakfast for Papa? Then we can surprise him together when he wakes up, and…” you paused, heart fluttering as you thought about the special surprise you had planned, one that you had kept to yourself until today. “And there’s something very exciting we’ll be giving him. Something you’re going to help me with, too.”

Her eyes lit up, and she bounced on her toes, already whispering with excitement. “What is it, Mama?”

“You’ll see, mon petit trésor,” you murmured with a soft smile. “It’s a surprise just as much for you as it is for your Papa. Now, come on.”

You grabbed your silk robe by the vanity chair and put it on. Taking Thylane’s little hand in yours, you casted a quick glance back at Lando. You leaned over, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, lingering just a moment. The warmth of his skin was comforting, and for a heartbeat, you just admired the peaceful look on his face, hoping he would carry that warmth with him when he awoke to find you both by his side. Then you carefully lifted Thylane into your arms to keep her quiet and avoid the soft creaks of the floorboards as you slipped out of the room together.

You and Thylane moved quietly into the kitchen, both of you filled with anticipation. The kitchen was softly lit by the morning sun, casting a warm glow over the countertops as you gathered everything you needed for Lando’s birthday breakfast, with Thylane already clutching the whisk with her small hands, her tongue poking out in concentration as she tried her best to mix the batter for the pancakes.

“Like this, Mama?” She asked, glancing up at you, her face bright with determination.

“Oui, parfait, mon ange,” you replied, ruffling her hair lightly. “Now, tu peux ajouter les blueberries. Add the blueberries, like this.” You handed her a small bowl of plump blueberries, showing her how to fold them gently into the batter.

She followed your instructions very carefully, not wanting to ruin Lando’s surprise, her little fingers pushing each blueberry into the mix with care, her eyes darting to you every so often to check if she was doing it right.

“Is Papa going to love it?” She whispered.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Of course Papa’s going to love it because you made it for him,” you assured her, watching her face break into a wide grin. “Now, pass me the flour, please—la farine. Careful, don’t spill.”

With both hands, Thylane picked up the small bag of flour and brought it over, the look of focus never leaving her face. She had switched to a more serious demeanor, taking her role as your little sous-chef very seriously.

“Here, Mama!” She said proudly, handing it to you as if it were the most delicate thing in the world.

“Merci, mon trésor,” you replied, taking the flour and measuring out the right amount for the batter. “Okay, now you can stir again, doucement, like this.” You demonstrated, letting her hands follow yours as you guided her through the gentle motions.

When the pancakes were stacked high on a plate, topped with fresh berries and a drizzle of maple syrup, you and Thylane both stood back, admiring your creation.

“Look at what we made together,” you said softly, squeezing Thylane’s shoulder. “Papa will be very happy.”

Thylane clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing on her toes. “Can we give it to him now?”

“Not yet,” you shook your head, a smile forming on your lips. “There’s one more surprise we need to get ready.”

Walking over to the drawer, you retrieved the small acrylic box, some soft cloth, and your carefully wrapped pregnancy test. Thylane’s brows furrowed as she watched you, her head tilting with curiosity.

“What’s that, Mama?” She asked, peering closely at the box as you placed the soft cloth inside.

“This, my love, is a very special surprise for Papa,” you knelt down so that you were eye-level with her, placing the test in the box atop the folded cloth. “Do you remember how you told me you wanted to have a little brother or sister?”

Thylane’s eyes sparkled, and she nodded eagerly. “Yes! Yes! Does this mean…”

“Yes, Tilly. This means you’re going to be a big sister.” You smiled warmly at her.

Her face lit up, her mouth forming a perfect little “O” of excitement. “Really, Mama? I get a baby brother or sister?”

“Yes, mon trésor,” you nodded, laughing softly at her reaction. “We don’t know yet if it’s a brother or sister, but the baby is here, right inside Mama’s tummy, just a little peanut for now.”

Thylane’s eyes went wide with wonder, and she pressed her small hands to your stomach as if she was trying to feel the baby herself.

“A baby peanut!” She giggled, delight shining in her face. “Can we call the baby that for now?”

“Of course,” you chuckled, brushing her hair back. “Until we know more, we can call your little sibling, baby peanut.” She grinned, clearly enamored with the idea, and watched carefully as you tied the ribbon around the box with care.

“Can I help with the ribbon?” She asked, her hand already reaching out eagerly.

“Of course, here.” You said, guiding her hand as she carefully looped the ribbon around, tightening it with a gentle tug and finishing it off in a neat bow.

“Where should we put it, Mama?” She asked, glancing around the room.

You took a quick look at the cozy space, then pointed to a spot on the kitchen counter, just out of Lando’s immediate line of sight.

“Right here,” you decided, setting the box down gently. “That way, Papa won’t see it right away.”

Thylane nodded, grinning widely. “I can’t wait to see Papa’s reaction!”

With breakfast prepared and the surprise box tucked safely out of sight, you and Thylane made your way back to the bedroom, eager to wake up the birthday boy. By now, the sun had fully risen, casting a warm glow across the room as you nudged the door open to your and Lando’s bedroom. You expected to see Lando still sleeping peacefully, but instead, he was already awake, propped up on pillows with his phone in his hand, scrolling with a sleepy smile on his face.

Before you could say anything, Thylane let out a squeal of excitement and sprinted towards the bed, practically launching herself onto him. Lando barely had time to react before she pounced, wrapping her arms around his neck and showering Lando’s face with small kisses.

“Happy birthday, Papa! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!” She chanted, each word punctuated with a giggling kiss to Lando’s cheeks, forehead, and nose. Lando can’t help but laugh, his eyes crinkling with joy as he pulled her close, enveloping her in a warm hug.

“Thank you, Tilly!” He replied, chuckling as he looked up at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever had such a special wake-up call on my birthday before.”

She nodded enthusiastically, her face flushed with pride. “I made you a biiiiig birthday card last night! It’s pink, and has lots of hearts and sparkles on it, and I even drew a race car!”

“Woah, a race car? Just for me? Now that is one special card,” he said, brushing a few stray curls behind her ear as he smiled up at her. “I can’t wait to see it. I bet it’s the best card in the whole world.”

Giggling, Thylane seated herself on top of his stomach, her little hands resting on his chest as she looked down at Lando with pure adoration. You leaned against the doorway, laughing at the sweet sight in front of you before walking over to the bed and settling down beside Lando.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, but laced with affection. “I’m so happy that I get to spend my birthday with my favorite girls.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his. “Good morning, birthday boy,” you whispered, smiling against his lips before pulling back just slightly. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Lando grinned, puckering his lips again, silently asking for another kiss. Laughing, you leaned down, giving him another soft kiss, feeling his hand come up to gently cup your cheek. In that moment, it was just the three of you, wrapped in warmth and love, as if nothing else in the world existed. As you pulled back, Thylane let out a little giggle, pointing at the two of you with a mischievous grin.

“Ew, Mama and Papa!” She teased, though her face betrayed nothing but happiness.

Lando laughed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Hey, I deserve a birthday kiss, don’t I?”

“Papa! Mama and I made you a special breakfast!” She announced, clapping her hands. “We worked really, really hard. I even put the blueberries in all by myself!”

“No way! You mean to tell me you were my chef this morning, too?” Lando ticked her side, making her dissolve into giggles.

Thylane laughed, wiggling under his tickling fingers. “Yes, I’m your chef today! Mama showed me how to make everything.”

“Well, now I definitely have to see what my two favorite girls cooked up,” he said, sitting up slowly.

Lando reached over, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you close, then lifted Thylane into his other arm. She squealed with delight, wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling her head against Lando’s shoulder. As the three of you made your way to the kitchen, Lando kept his arm secure around your waist, pulling you close as Thylane chattered excitedly about breakfast.

“Mama taught me how to fold in the blueberries so they wouldn’t smush!” She said proudly. “And we made a big stack of pancakes with syrup and blueberries and…oh! And I even helped tie a bow for your present!”

Lando gave you a curious look over Thylane’s shoulder. “A present, huh?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with a grin. “I’m starting to think you two were up to a lot more than just breakfast this morning.”

“Hm, maybe we were,” you replied, smiling playfully as you reached up to brush a strand of his hair back. “But you’ll have to be patient to find out.”

He chuckled, squeezing your waist. “Well, I don’t know how much patience I have today. I mean, it is my birthday.”

Laughing, you reached up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Good things come to those who wait, birthday boy.”

The three of you entered the kitchen, where the table was set with the special breakfast you and Thylane had made. Lando’s eyes sparkled as he took it all in, and Thylane beamed with pride, practically bouncing in his arms.

“Happy birthday, Papa!” She exclaimed one last time, her voice full of love and excitement, her little arms squeezing him tightly.

With Lando’s arm around you, and Thylane hugging him with all her might, it was clear to you that this birthday morning could not have started off any sweeter.

Breakfast was a cozy, peaceful affair, the three of you wrapped in the simplicity of the morning. You and Lando chatted about plans for his birthday dinner later, throwing around ideas and laughing at each other’s jokes, while Thylane happily watched her favorite show on her iPad, humming along with the familiar theme song of Little Einsteins. It was a gentle scene, just the three of you? Sharing a quiet, joyful space as the morning sun spilled across the table.

Lando seemed perfectly content, caught up in the warmth of the moment. He had almost forgotten about the small gift waiting for him, tucked away in the kitchen—until you stood up, brushing a gentle hand across his shoulder.

“Wait here for a sec,” you said softly, a hint of excitement in your voice. “Tilly, come help me with something for Papa.”

Thylane’s face lit up as she hopped down from her chair, glancing at you with a secretive smile. She knew exactly what was coming next. Taking her hand, you led her back into the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder to see Lando watching you both with a look of fond curiosity. He seemed completely oblivious to what was coming.

You reached into the cozy corner of the counter, pulling out the small, acrylic box you had hidden away with so much care. Inside, carefully wrapped in a soft cloth, was the positive pregnancy test. You knelt down, handing the box to Thylane, who held it carefully with wide, shining eyes.

“Okay, mon ange,” you whispered, giving her a gentle smile. “Give this to Papa, and make sure he opens it.”

She nodded, taking the box in her hands as if it were a treasure. Together, you walked back to the dining area, where Lando was watching you both with growing curiosity.

“What’s this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with a playful grin.

Thylane held out the box, her excitement barely contained. Lando took the acrylic box, glancing from her to you, a mixture of awe and confusion on his face.

You smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, leaning close. “Go on,” you said, voice soft with anticipation. “Open it.”

“Open it, Papa! Open it!” She echoed, bouncing slightly on her toes, her face brimming with excitement.

Lando carefully untied the delicate ribbon that Thylane had helped you with that morning, his fingers moving slowly as if savoring the moment. The box felt light in his hands, and his expression shifted from curiosity to wonder as he lifted the lid, pulling away the cloth inside. The instant he saw the test, his eyes widened, and Lando looked up at you with a mixture of disbelief and joy.

“Is this…” he stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper, as though he was afraid he might shatter the moment. “Is this real? Is this for real?”

You nodded, unable to contain your own smile as you squeezed his shoulder. “Yes, love. It is real.” You watched his face light up as the reality of it washed over him.

“Happy birthday, my love.” You added softly, feeling your own heart swell with happiness.

Lando did not hesitate. He stood up, pulling you into a tight embrace, arms wrapping around you as he lifted you off of your feet, twirling you in a gentle circle. His laugh was warm and filled with immense happiness so pure that it brought tears to your eyes.

“After all this time,” he murmured, voice thick with emotions as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “We’re really going to have another baby?” You nodded, laughing through your tears.

“I found out a few weeks ago, when you were in Mexico. I wanted to wait until today to tell you.” You placed a hand on his cheeks, gazing up at him with all the love you had been holding back for weeks. “It took everything in me not to tell you the moment I found out.”

He kissed you softly, his forehead pressing against yours as he whispered. “Thank you for waiting, love. This…this is literally the best birthday gift I’ve ever had.”

“Papa, did you see? It’s real!” She said, beaming and clapping her hand, while bouncing in happiness. “I’m going to have a baby brother or sister! I told Mama I want to call them baby peanut!”

“Baby peanut, huh?” Lando chuckled, bending down to lift Thylane into his arms, bringing her close to the two of you. Kissing her forehead, and looking at you with a grin. “I think that’s a perfect name, for now.”

“Papa, can we tell everyone? All our friends?” Thylane’s face lit up at the thought, and she looked back and forth between you and Lando.

“Soon, Tilly. But for now, let’s keep it our little secret, okay? Just between us.” He leaned down, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That way, we can keep baby peanut all to ourselves a little longer.”

“Our little secret!” She nodded seriously, her eyes wide as she held her finger to her lips. “I’m really good at secrets, Papa. I won’t tell anyone!”

You all just stood there, basking in the warmth and happiness of the quiet moment, Lando had never felt a new kind of peace settle over him. This was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever dreamed of. A family, life filled with love and laughter, and now, another little one on the way.

Lando let Thylane down, letting her run towards the living room to play with her toys. He reached out, threading his fingers through yours and giving your hand a gentle squeeze, and kissing it softly.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice breaking a little bit. “For this, for everything. You’ve given me the greatest gift of all.”

You squeezed his hand back, your own eyes shining with emotion. “I love you,” you murmured. “Happiest birthday, my love.”

As Lando held you closely, he realized that this was a happiness beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

[malavera]

“Shh, can you be quiet?” (18+) Logan Howlett Headcanon

pairing: dom!logan howlett x female reader

warning: SMUT! MDNI. Reader being on top, reader and logan fucking beside’s sleeping wade on the couch, logan’s filthy mouth, orgasm denial

taglist: @wildlyobsessive @velvrei comment if you want to be tagged!

p.s: he looks so deliciously mean in this gif ooo

it was a movie night for you three that of course, wade wants to have in once a week.

it’s actually either he’s really meant it so he could feel like a family and that because he really loves you and Logan, or it’s actually because he wants to watch and listen to you both having sex

“if we do this we’re really giving into what he wants.” you rolled your eyes after spitting the facts to Logan

he grunts before he roughly grip your hips and move you back and forth on top of his clothed cock

“i don’t care. i just want to get inside you right now, fuck you’re so sexy, baby.” you fluttered your eyes shut leaning hour head back and softly moan

“shh, you gotta be quiet though. asleep or not, i don’t want this little shit listening to your sexy moans, only i get to.” Logan grunts

“you know i can’t.” you whimper

Logan hissed and grunts before he ripped your shorts off along with your panties with ease

he roughly stuff your panties into your mouth as you rolled your eyes from finding this situation rather hot

and there it goes, his thick and veiny cock penetrating you with him guiding you down to take it all in

“urghh..” Logan quietly groaned, leaning his head back against the cushion

“fuck… such a good pussy.” he whispered to himself with his eyes closed

if you could moan out loud, you would but instead you just lean your head back and start riding his cock

as much as he wants you to be quiet, it didn’t seem like he’d want to keep his mouth shut

he’s whispering all kinds of filth to your ear and he knows the effect of his voice in your ear

just by speaking very low sends chill down your spine

“fuck look at you, always ready to be my cock slut.”

“yeah..? yeah.. haha keep going bub.”

imagine his breathy laughs mixed with his grunts…

“fucking me cock so good bub, argh god.” you whimpered, eyebrows scrunched together watching him lean back for a second rolling his eyes to the back of his head

“come on baby, make me cum.” he taunts

“yeah… yeah haha keep it like that..”

“mmhmm.. keep going.”

you abruptly stopped, in fact almost froze when you heard wade’s grunt

you twist your head to find him still asleep

logan’s hand grabbed your chin and roughly turns your point of view back to him

“hey, who told you to stop? no one. keep going.” you whimpered before you begin riding him again this time with all the strength you have

“that’s it bub… there you go.” logan’s hand sneaks up from your torso to grab your neck, choking you

and thats what made you ride him faster

“are you gonna cum for me?” you nodded your head frantically

“you gotta make me cum first bub, come on. faster. yeah yeah yeah.. ggrhh.”

you whimpered, shutting your eyes

“fffuck… i’m cumming- i’m cumming-.. i’m gonna c-cum-” logan’s thigh stuttered before he jolted his hips upwards stopping you from moving as he is reaching his high to fill you with his warm cum

“o-ohh.. fuck fuck..” logan panted, emptying his load inside you

“gahh.. fuck.” he leans back against the cushion, you watching him with doe eyes

you haven’t reached your high, it’s very unusual for him to deny your orgasm unless… you did something wrong

logan chuckles from looking at your expression

“don’t worry bub. you’ll get to cum. only this time, and i’ll be saying it once more, this time only.” you look at him dumbfounded before he peered his eyes to the side and you follow

it was who is already staring at you with a smirk

“ooohhh yes i promise you peanut, but if she comes crawling back for my cock, don’t blame me.”

and i oop.

[liwinly]

BABY , iM YOURS !

───── Soft whispers, playful touches, and endless love .

MORE ( 900 ) . Enhypen x fem!reader : fluff , romance . ✶ skinship , teasing

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

You’re curled up on the couch when Heeseung pulls you into his arms, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. His warmth seeps into you instantly, and you giggle as he nuzzles closer, his breath tickling your skin.

“Hee, what are you doing?” you ask, your fingers threading through his soft hair.

“Holding my baby,” he mumbles, voice laced with sleep. “You’re mine, right?”

You feel your heart melt at his words. Heeseung always gets clingy when he’s sleepy, and you love it. You shift to face him, cupping his cheek. “Of course, I’m yours.”

A sleepy smile tugs at his lips before he presses soft kisses along your jaw, your cheek, and finally, your lips. His arms tighten around you, as if afraid you’ll slip away.

“You smell so nice,” he murmurs, inhaling deeply. “Stay like this forever?”

You laugh, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. “Forever and always, Hee.”

He hums contentedly, pulling you even closer — if that’s even possible. And just like that, wrapped in his warmth, you know you’re exactly where you belong.

𝐉𝐀𝐘

Jay leans against the kitchen counter, eyes locked on you as you try to reach the top shelf for a jar of peanut butter. You’re on your tiptoes, struggling, and he can’t help but chuckle.

“Need some help?”

You turn around, pouting. “I can do it myself!”

“Mm-hmm, sure you can,” Jay teases, crossing the room in a few quick strides. He effortlessly grabs the jar from the shelf and hands it to you. His fingers brush against yours, sending a little jolt through you.

“Thanks,” you mutter, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Jay grins and steps closer, his chest brushing against yours. He places his hand on the small of your back, pulling you into him with ease. “You know, you’re cute when you get all stubborn,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart races at the closeness. “Stop teasing me, Jay.”

He leans in, his lips pressing against your forehead in a soft kiss. “I’m not teasing. I’m just reminding you that you’re mine, baby.”

You smile, melting into his touch. “I’m yours, Jay.”

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

Jake’s laughter fills the room as you both tumble onto the couch, playfully fighting for the TV remote. You manage to snatch it from his hands, but before you can press a button, he pulls you back into his chest with a strong arm, trapping you.

“Gotcha,” he says, his voice low and playful.

You giggle, squirming in his embrace, but it’s no use. He holds you tightly, one hand resting on your waist. “You’re mine now,” he murmurs, his chin resting on your shoulder.

You glance up at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Am I?”

Jake’s eyes soften, and he kisses the side of your head, his lips lingering. “Absolutely. No escaping me, baby.”

You roll your eyes, but warmth spreads through your chest at his affection. “Guess I’m stuck with you then, huh?”

He chuckles and pulls you even closer, pressing his cheek against yours. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His fingers trace circles on your back as you settle into the comfort of his arms, the world outside fading away. You smile, knowing there’s nowhere you’d rather be.

“Yeah, I’m yours, Jake.”

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

Sunghoon is sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, but when he feels you settle next to him, he immediately wraps an arm around your shoulders. You lean into him, letting your head rest on his chest.

"You always know how to make me feel safe," you mumble, closing your eyes.

Sunghoon smiles softly, his fingers gently playing with your hair. "That’s because you’re mine," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but it carries so much warmth.

You chuckle, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "I’m yours, huh?"

He nods, his lips curving into a small, affectionate smile. "Always have been, always will be."

His hand moves to cup your cheek, pulling you in for a tender kiss. It's slow, soft, filled with all the love he has for you. When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours.

"Baby, I’m yours too," he whispers, his eyes never leaving yours.

You smile, feeling your heart flutter. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be than in his arms.

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

You’re sitting on the balcony, enjoying the quiet evening, when Sunoo quietly slips behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. His chin rests on your shoulder as he leans into you, his warmth enveloping you.

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask, turning your head to glance at him.

Sunoo smiles softly, his eyes full of affection. “I just wanted to be close to you. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

You feel your heart flutter at his words. “Of course, I’m yours,” you reply with a teasing grin, but your voice softens when he presses a kiss to your neck, his lips lingering there.

“I’m glad,” he murmurs, his hands gently caressing your arms. “I don’t ever want to let you go.”

You turn in his arms, facing him now, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “You don’t have to.”

His smile widens, and he cups your face, bringing you in for a gentle, lingering kiss. “Good, because I’m not planning on it.”

In that moment, everything feels perfect, with Sunoo’s arms around you and the soft sound of your beating hearts. “I’m yours, always.”

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

You’re sprawled out on the floor, books and papers scattered around you as you try to focus on studying, but Jungwon is having none of it. He plops down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder, his hand finding yours.

“You’ve been working too hard,” he says softly, his voice laced with concern. “Take a break, baby.”

You roll your eyes, trying to focus. “I need to finish this.”

But Jungwon isn't having it. He gently pulls the papers from your hands, tossing them aside, and turns you to face him. His eyes are filled with warmth. “You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you take care of yourself.”

You laugh, your heart fluttering at his caring tone. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He grins, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I know. But I’m your impossible, and you love it.”

His hand cups your cheek, and without thinking, you lean into his touch, closing your eyes. "You're right, I do love it."

Jungwon leans in and kisses your forehead gently. "And I love you, always."

You smile, feeling completely at peace in his arms. “I’m yours, Jungwon.”

𝐍𝐈-𝐊𝐈

You’re sitting on the couch, flipping through channels, when Ni-ki suddenly pops up beside you, his playful grin lighting up the room. Without warning, he snatches the remote out of your hands, laughing as you try to grab it back.

“You’re such a troublemaker,” you laugh, narrowing your eyes at him.

Ni-ki just shrugs, his mischievous grin widening. “I’m only a troublemaker because you let me be,” he teases, dropping the remote onto the couch and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You feel your heart race as he pulls you closer, his chin resting on your shoulder. “What are you doing, huh?”

“Just making sure you’re mine,” he replies, his voice quiet but playful. His hands find yours, lacing your fingers together. “Is that okay?”

You smile softly, feeling your heart melt. “Of course. You know you’re all I need.”

He leans in, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek before murmuring, “Then you’re mine, too, forever.”

In his embrace, everything feels right, and you can’t help but whisper, “Always, Ni-ki.”

── .✦ @amoressb @chrrific @slayyuna @woniefication @ijustwannareadstuff20 @cheruphic @irasvr @puma-riki

[fishfooddude]

Hi!! Can you please write something about Carmen x reader where they have a secret relationship?? They both work at The Bear and maybe get caught doing something sexy by Richie (lol) and then the rest of the staff finds out. These type of fics always make me laugh🤭 Love your writing!!!🤍🤍🤍

My Friend From New York

The Bear Masterlist

My Directory

MDNI 18+ (Only a lil bit)

To some, The Orginal Beef of Chicagoland was a run-down dingey sandwich shop that may or may not have sold coke out of the kitchen when COVID wrecked the city. To Richie, it was his home. He and Mikey had been friends for almost four decades, and The Beef was their baby. When it came to The Beef, there was a layer of sentiment to every part of it. Even with its quirks, it was part of Richie, and after Mikey was gone- it felt like the only connection he still had to him. Of course, that mother fucker left his legacy to shithead little brother. Richie loved Carmy; he’d known the kid since he was in diapers- and now he was trying to change the sandwich shop into some bougie millennial hot spot. Richie tried playing nice; he tried explaining to Carmy that The Beef was fine before he took over, but Carmy convinced himself and the rest of the staff that they could become something bigger, that greatness was within reach, and everyone was running with it. 

“He needs to get laid…” Richie muttered under his breath as he brought bags of flour to the dry storage shelving by Marcus’s station. Marcus chuckled as he’d overheard the comment. Richie wiped his hands on the apron tightly tied around his waist, “What’s he even tryin’ do… Mike and I ran a tight ship.” 

Marcus shrugged, “I like Carmy… He’s challenging me- I loved Mikey… he was a good guy, but what Carmy wants to do is in honor, ya know?”

Richie shook his head, “He’s fuckin’ with my system.” Marcus waved him off and returned to the notebooks and cookbooks sprawled across the stainless steel counter by his mixer. Richie scowled as he walked to the dining room, muttering complaints about Carmy to himself. “Yo, everyone! Meeting in the dining room!” Carmy’s voice echoed through the kitchen as Richie stood by the host stand, scrolling through his Tinder messages. Richie slipped his phone back into his back pocket as the kitchen doors swung open before leaning against the wall, watching as people entered the room. 

“Okay- thank you, everyone for being flexible and understanding. Carmy and I both understand that changing an operating system can feel overwhelming, but y’all are doin’ great.. Carmy.” Syd monologued before turning the figurative mic over to Carmy. Richie turned his attention to him but quickly went to the front door of The Bear, where a mystery woman entered the dining room. Before Richie could say anything about them being closed, Carmy piped up.

“You’re early…” he grinned. The woman shrugged and put a small suitcase on the floor before approaching Carmy and Syd. Richie chuckled when he saw Carmy causally give her a side hug, his hand lingering on her hip slightly longer than it should, “This is Y/N. She’s one of my friends from New York… here to help out Marcus.” Carmy pointed Marcus out to her. 

“Fresh meat…” you commented as your eyes ran up and down Marcus, “You’ll be a baker by the end of the month.” 

Richie stood back and listened to you explain your background before the meeting ended. He noticed how Angel was looking at you and how Carmy was glaring a hole in the side of his head. He looked between you and Carmy; there was no way Carmy could get a girl like you. He chuckled to himself and waited for the meeting to end before going to the alley to have a smoke before dinner service. 

~

As the weeks passed, Richie noticed little things about you and Carmy. Nothing was explicitly sexual or romantic, but he’d known Carmy the kid’s entire life, and he knew how Carmy behaved when he was around a girl he had a crush on. He saw it when Carmy was in middle school when he always brought extra peanut butter pretzels for one of the girls in his English class. Then again, in high school, when he’d become even quieter when Claire and her friends were hanging out next door. Carmy wasn’t a kid anymore, but Richie noticed the little things he was doing for you, the subtle touches, making sure your water bottle was never empty, the way he’d watch over the baking lessons you’d give Marcus when he had downtime, but the moment that solidified Richie’s suspicion was the day Angel finally made his move. 

Richie returned to the kitchen after taking a phone call in the alley. Neither you nor Angel noticed his presence as he stood behind one of the storage racks. Angel was initially subtle, asking if you were into some punk band Richie had never heard of. When you said you’d seen them live before, Richie noticed Angel’s face light up. Then he offered you an ‘extra’ ticket he had to their upcoming show; he noticed the shallow swallow you took before awkwardly telling him you ‘were seein’ someone’. Angel’s face fell, but he nodded and playfully punched your arm before walking away. You laughed and walked into the office, leaving Richie to theorize. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there when Syd joined him, startled by Richie’s prowling. “God- you scared me… why are you standing behind the shelves?” she asked as she reached for a large stock pot. 

Richie shrugged, “You know if Carmy’s ‘friend’ from New York is seein’ anyone?” 

Syd thought for a second, “Uh, I think… she’s stayin’ with Carmy, so if she is seeing anyone, it’s not serious.”

“Wait, she’s staying with Carmy… in his studio apartment?” 

Syd nodded, not realizing what Richie was implying by his questioning. Richie rolled his eyes, “I fuckin’ knew it…”

Richie’s suspicions only grew stronger as the week continued. It’s not every day Carmy comes into work with an extra pep in his step and a faint hickey by the collar of his t-shirt. That afternoon, he finally decided to ask Carmy about your relationship. After finishing his necessary prep work, he hung out in the kitchen and waited for Carmy to head to the alley to smoke. 

“Yo.” Carmy greeted when he noticed Richie join him, leaning against the wall. Richie nodded and pulled a cigarette from the beat-up box in his pocket. 

“So… that girl…” Richie started. Carmy looked at Richie with an eyebrow raised as Richie continued. “You tappin’ that?”

Carmy scoffed before ashing out his cigarette, “Fuck off Richie.” Richie grimaced and watched Carmy walk back into the restaurant. 

“He’s tappin’ that…” Richie scoffed as he turned his attention to his phone.

~

“Shit..” Richie grumbled as he stood at the register of the corner store by his apartment building, “Yall do ApplePay?” the cashier looked at him with a bored, disheveled look before snarkily commenting about how they didn’t accept bills over $20. Richie shook his head and left the pack of cigarettes and six-pack he’d been trying to buy on the counter before heading back to his car to look for his wallet. Richie realized his wallet wasn't there as he dug through his glove box and center console. “Shit…” he swore when he concluded he must have left it at work.

Richie moved to unlock the door to The Bear’s back kitchen door when he realized it was unlocked. “Shit…” he mumbled, assuming someone had broken in; he’d left his phone in the car and figured he’d just deal with all the drama tomorrow morning. 

He expected to see pots and pans all over the counter and a broken safe in the office, but when Richie walked into the kitchen, his eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped. You were sat atop the middle station with your top pulled down, exposing a bright red bra. Carmy stood between your legs with his pants undone, one of your hands hidden beneath his boxers. Richie tried to speak, but the sound of Carmy’s throaty moans made his ability to speak vanish. Your head fell back as you loudly moaned, “Louder baby… let everyone know who you belong to…” as the words left Carmy’s mouth, Richie felt his body retch. 

“You aren’t alone!” Richie yelled. You yelped in surprise and pushed Carmy away from you before yanking your top up. Richie closed his eyes and let his head fall to the floor. He heard Carmy clear his throat and the sound of a zipper pulling up. The three of you existed in an awkward silence for what felt like hours before Richie broke the silence, “So… you are tappin’ that…” 

“Shut the fuck up, Richard.”

[click4rainy]

Scruffy Man//Logan Howlett boyfriend Head Canons

👽:my favorite old man frfr 😪 (not proof read)

SFW💛

★ Logan is fiercely protective of you, sometimes it can border on overbearing…If he senses danger just know he’s quick to step in without hesitation. “Just—stay close to me alright?” “I don’t care if it’s just a noise, stay behind me. I’ll check it out.”

★ This man is rough and rugged, always. But only you get to see his softer, more vulnerable side. Especially during quiet moments (aka when wade’s not home)

★ “Don’t go paradin’ this to the entire city now, but you’re my favorite person on this god forsaken planet.” He’ll murmur while bringing your hand up to his lips.

★ Logan is loyal to a FAULT! Once he commits, that’s it. He’s all in whether you like it or not. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here with you. Don’t think for a second I’d ever leave.” His loyalty runs deep and he’ll stand by you no matter the circumstances or the cost.

★ Peanut isn’t big on flowery words or poetry. But his love for you is shown through touch—rough bear hugs, protective hand holding, or giving you forehead kisses.

★ Again, rather than words this man expresses his love for you with his actions. “C’mere…” he mutters, pulling you into a hug that’s as secure as it is slightly crushing…

★ Fixing things around the house, cooking a simple, hearty meal. He tends to your wounds and pampers you when needed.

★ Logan’s temper flares if he feels like someone is crossing a line with you. “This guy botherin’ you?” He’ll ask cocking a brow, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the situation.

★ He’s got a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. Always expect sharp, quick witted one liners. “You’re late.” You’ll say, hand on hip. Smirking, he’ll reply some shit like “Time’s a human construct, babe.”

★ For someone who holds a gruff and rough exterior, he’s surprisingly a good cuddler. He’ll pull you close without a word, “Didn’t know I needed this til now.” He’ll smirk, relishing the warmth you provide.

★ Logan is the type of boyfriend who will stare at you when you’re not looking. His gaze can vary from intense affection to slight sadness. Sometimes he’ll reflect on the fear of losing you when he get’s lost in his admiration…

★ “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” You’ll ask whenever catching his stare. He just shakes his head slightly. “Just…takin’ it all in.”

★ Not one for fancy dates, he’ll plan out more low-key, intimate activities like camping in the woods, hiking together, or road trips on his motorcycle.

★ “I know a spot a few miles out. Stars are brighter there. Thought we could use the peace tonight.”

★ He has the absolute BEST stories. He shares stories behind his scars, memories from his long life during intimate moments. “This one?” He traces the mark up his arm. “Happened back in ‘78. Remind me to tell you about it when we get more whiskey.”

★ Whenever you’re feeling sad, or down, Logan knows how to be there, how to be present without speaking. “You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready. I’m here for ya…” He’ll sit beside you, offering you silent support and reassurance by giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

★ Sure, he’s blunt and straightforward. But with you, he’s also soft spoken. “I love you” “How did I get so lucky?” “You gonna let me hold you already or what?”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

NSFW💦🤭

★ He’ll never admit it, (he will) but he thinks it’s totally hot when you take control. Mostly because it’s a rare treat when you decide to do so. “Alright, alright. I’m sat.” “I love it when you get aggressive.”

★ He’s an experienced man. Who knows what he wants and exactly how to get it. “Mhmm—just like that…” “god damn baby…” “that’s right~”

★ Man’s got stamina for days. I’m talking about round after round. He’s down as long as you are.

★ “Oh, come on princess, I know you can take it a little longer.” He smiles, pounding into you relentlessly, his hand on the back of your head while pushing your face into the pillows.

★ Logan is rough around the edges…so of course you’re in for some rough treatment during freaky deaky time. “Quit squirmin’ and take it.” He grunts, pinning your wrists above your head, drilling into you with quick, harsh thrusts.

★ “God damn you’re snug.” He says, smacking your ass harshly while wrapping your hair around his free hand, pulling your head back as he sets a brutal pace.

★ Logan loves marking your skin during intimacy. Biting your shoulders. Nuzzling into the crook of your neck, sucking and leaving dark marks along the column of your delicate skin while soothing each sting with a tender kiss.

★ “look at you.” Logan coos, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “All beat up and tired. We haven’t even started yet.”

★ Gets off from overstimulating you with his cock. Rolling his hips against yours, slowly and agonizingly after making you cum several times already. Smirking while splitting you open. Using zero effort while your hands fist into the sheets. Legs trembling and a sheen of sweat on your forehead.

★ “Gonna make you walk crooked—fuck you til you’re beggin’ me to stop. Then keep goin’ til I get my fill. How’s that sound?” He teases, rubbing the tip of his cock against your buzzing, numb cunt before slamming into you without another word.

★ Loves it when you get on your knees for him. “Atta girl. Now, open up for me.” He commands gently, fisting your hair up into a ponytail for you. (Or just gripping your melon if you have short hair)

★ He’s not going to fuck your face unless you ask him to. Usually letting you set your own pace when you’re tasting him. Keeping your hair out of the way while praising you.

★ “Take it all baby..” “perfect.” “You’re damn good at thi—s aren’t you?” “Swallow for me…” his grip will tighten in your hair (or not) as you bob your head up and down his shaft. Feeling his cock throb in your hot mouth before spewing thick, white ropes down your throat.

★ He low key likes thigh riding. Like…a lot. It seriously is one of his favorite ways to make you a whimpering, whining mess.

★ “Fuck, you’re doing so good—” He’ll praise you, hands sliding up and down your sides before firmly gripping your hips, grinding you harder against his thigh. “You like that?”

★ After care…Logan knows his way around the block when it comes to pampering the love of his life. Especially after fucking you senseless.

★ Has a habit of getting too rough with you sometimes. Happens to the best of us, right? “Let me see those marks…” he’ll whisper, tracing over your skin with his finger tips.

★ “You alright?” “Still with me, sweetheart?” “just relax, that’s right. Let me take care of you.” “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” “C’mere, let me hold you”

★ Massaging your back, getting you a drink, cleaning you up and getting you a fresh set of clothing, running a bubble bath or shower. Whatever works best in the moment for you, he’ll do it.

[divagrace]

It Reminded Me of You

SoftRafe x SweetPoguePrincess

Summary: Rafe has been seeing these silly stuffed animals everywhere online, so when he saw a girl on tik tok talking about the new ones releasing, he decided to get you one.

Warnings: none! 🫶🏻

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

‘These are just the cutest things ever’

‘Guys look what my boyfriend got me for my birthday!’

‘I’m not even kidding, I would go to war for this peanut’

‘Here are all the new furry friends that will be dropping next week.’

Rafe had no idea what the hell a Jellycat was until two weeks ago. He liked one video of some little kid getting one for Christmas and now they have bombarded his social media feed.

But when he saw a video showing all of the different ones that would be coming out next week, one caught his eye. He knew you would love it.

It was a bunny. From what he’s gathered that’s their most popular animal. But it wasn’t just any old bunny, it was a hot pink one.

Rafe just knew that you would die for it.

So obviously the day that the new stuffies were released, Rafe made it his mission to get it for you. He didn’t pay attention to the work he was supposed to be doing, instead, he sat behind his computer and waited for the time that was said.

Once he saw that they had dropped, he scrolled until he found the pink bunny and added it into his cart.

Then he sees a navy blue bunny and knows that you would die two times because they match. Right as he is about to check out, he sees those damn peanuts, just this time they are on key chains. He puts two of them in his cart.

Rafe places the order and he gets the notification that it will be here in about a week.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

When Rafe got the confirmation that the package was delivered, he knew that he had to intercept it before you got the chance to open it up.

Rafe knows how much you love to open up packages, you claim that it makes you feel like an influencer, whatever that means, so Rafe always lets you open the things that he orders in the mail.

Luckily, he is able to get ahold of one of the gardeners, and he asks them if they can grab the package and tuck it in a spot that you won’t see it for now.

Rafe can’t help but feel a small amount of excitement bubble up in his stomach at the thought of surprising you. He really hopes that you’ll love everything.

Rafe walks through the doors to the smell of something warm and sweet. He kicks off his shoes and sets his keys on the tray you crafted for him, and then follows the delicious smell to the kitchen .

And there you are, hunched over the counter with a look of concentration, frosting a delicious looking batch of vanilla cupcakes with pink frosting.

Rafe waits at least two minutes until you finally realize he’s standing there. But when you do notice, you jump back in surprise.

“Rafe oh my goodness! You scared me.” You tell him, eyes still wide from your shock. He chuckles at your reaction.

“Sorry baby. Didn’t want you to lose your focus.”

“It’s okay, I’m glad you’re home now. How was work?” You ask him as he comes to stand behind you. Wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“It was good baby. ‘M got a surprise for you.” He mumbles into your neck. Pulling away from you, Rafe walks out of the kitchen of Tanny Hill and to one of the many empty bedrooms.

He found the box sitting at the top of the bare closet, and reached up to grab it. Rafe made his way back to you. Now you were carefully dusting a coating of sprinkles on the top of each cupcake, giving every single one your upmost attention.

Rafe waits patiently for you to finish, and when you finally turn your gaze to him, he holds out the box to you.

“What’s this?” You look at him confused.

“Just open the box baby. You’ll find out.” Rafe says, fighting a smile.

You take the box from him and set it on the table. You grab a pair of kitchen scissors from one of the drawers and starts to slice through the tape on the top of the package. You peel open the layers of the cardboard, and Rafe can finally catch a glimpse of that bright blue bag he’s been seeing on social media for weeks.

You let out a gasp. You turn your head to Rafe, eyes wide.

“Rafe did you seriously get me a Jellycat?” You ask in disbelief.

“Well keep opening it baby.” He says.

You grab the first bag out of the box and undo the drawstrings. You reach in and pull out the navy blue bunny. You let out a cute little whine. Rafe knows you already love it.

“It’s so cute Rafe!” You exclaim, showing him the bunny like he didn’t buy it himself.

“There’s more.” He says urging you to continue.

You reach in again and grab another bag, the same size as the first one. This time, it’s the pink bunny.

“Oh. My. Gosh. She is the cutest thing ever! I love her. Wait! Did you do this on purpose? You made the blue one you, and the pink one is me!” You start going crazy.

Rafe laughs.

“I did baby. Thought you would like it.” Rafe says.

“I love it!” You yell.

You see once again that there is another bag. So you take it out of the box and reach in to find two much smaller stuffies. You pull the two peanut keychains out of the bag.

“Rafe shut up. Shut up!” At this point you are bouncing off the walls.

“Is one for you to?” You ask him excitedly. Rafe only nods, but that’s enough to have you squealing and jumping into his arms.

He was ready, he caught you and rested his hands under your ass, while you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck.

“Thank you so much Rafey. These are the most adorable things ever!” You mumble into his neck.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

Later on, you make Rafe put his peanut onto his keys after you clipped yours onto your purse. He tried to argue saying that it was “too bulky”, but you told him he would get extra head scratches if he did.

So he did.

You set your two bunnies on his bed. You also made it so it looked like they are hugging each other. Rafe asked why and you told him, “It’s because they’re dating just like us. Duh.”

He just nodded his head and went along with it.

Now you guys are lying in bed, and he just discovered the massive Jellycats that cost the average persons rent.

Looks like yall are getting a giant version of your bunnies next week.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°

AN: ugh I loved this one. I impulsively bought a Jellycat that is an egg with little bunny ears. But I want a bunny one sooooooo bad.

I also just love this reader and soft Rafe together.

Also we are almost at 200 followers which is crazy I love yall so so much!

🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[diamonddaze01]

the old man’s bucket list

pairing: chwe hansol x f!reader | wc: 5.2k genre: uni!au, best friends to lovers | rating: pg warnings: use of recreational marijuana a/n: happy birthday vernon thank you for making my day // thank you to @ylangelegy and @gyubakeries for beta-ing!

summary: “So, anything you wanna do before you turn into a pile of withering bones, grandpa?”

The city hums softly around you, the crisp night air swirling between the two of you as you sit side by side on the roof of Vernon’s old car. Its engine has long since fallen silent, but the smell of gasoline still lingers in the air, mixing with the faint scent of weed. Your fingers curl around the joint, passing it back and forth, the brief flare of orange light casting shadows across your faces in an almost ethereal way. Time seems to slow, the hum of the city and the occasional creak of the car blending into a steady rhythm, like a heartbeat.

It’s a tradition you both started in your second year of college, when you’d caught him smoking on the roof late one night. He'd expected you to reprimand him, maybe even call him out for being reckless, but instead, you’d just pulled the joint from his hands and said, “Scoot over.”

And just like that, it became your thing. Now, seven years later, you always show up at his door the night before his birthday, joint and lighter in hand.

Vernon’s voice breaks through the comfortable quiet, low and hazy. “Dude,” he says, exhaling a cloud of smoke, watching it drift into the night. “I’m gonna be old this time tomorrow.”

You glance over at him, catching the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the kind of uncertainty that comes when you realize you're edging toward something big, something real. His shoulders are slumped, and for a moment, you see the exhaustion that usually lies beneath the surface—the weight of years of late nights, papers, and the impending future of PhD deadlines.

“What do you mean?” you ask, your voice light, teasing.

He sighs, the sound more wistful than you expect. “I’m gonna be 27. And in a few months, I’ll have my PhD. We’ll be real adults. We’ll be... OLD.” His eyes meet yours, a little panicked, as if the weight of the statement just landed fully in his chest.

A burst of laughter escapes you, the sound of it floating through the night like a breath of relief. “So, anything you wanna do before you turn into a pile of withering bones, grandpa?” You nudge his shoulder with yours, just a touch, but it’s enough to make him smile, to make him breathe out a little easier.

He scoffs, but the joint dangles from his lips, his hand reaching for it again as he takes another drag. You watch, your eyes following the movement of his fingers, the way his knuckles flex slightly as he holds the joint. There’s something intimate about the way he moves, so effortlessly, and the thought catches you off guard.

When Vernon speaks again, he sounds so serious, his voice grounding you back to the moment. “Uh, I wanna TP a house,” he says, eyes narrowing like he’s formulating a master plan.

You can’t help it—laughter spills out of you, louder than expected. You shake your head, still giggling. “That’s your big dream before you’re old and crusty?”

“Shut up,” he mutters, but his lips are twitching into a grin. He smacks your arm, a playful jab, but it’s warm, like the flicker of the joint between you. “I’m serious, though. And I wanna crash a wedding, visit all seven continents, and... eat something with peanuts, just to see what happens.”

Your brows furrow, suddenly serious. “No. You’ll die from an allergic reaction, and I don’t need that on my conscience.” You swat at his arm for good measure, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

He pouts, mock-annoyed, but the playful glint in his eyes tells you it’s just for show. “Fine, but I’m putting it on the list anyway.”

You pull out your phone, and open a new note, tapping out the title the old man's bucket list. You wait, glancing at him expectantly. Vernon continues, adding more ridiculous things to the list, each one more absurd than the last. You smile, tapping the screen to close the note, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you.

But then, without warning, you’re up, pulling him to his feet. “Get up,” you say, your voice firm but playful. There’s something about the way the night feels that urges you to keep going, to make something out of the time you have left, to fill it with all the little things that make it memorable.

Vernon groans, the sound half-laughter, half-whine. “C’mon, I’m not in the mood for... whatever this is.”

You’re already pulling him, not giving him a chance to protest. “Get up, Vernon.” The tone is more insistent now, and he lets himself be dragged into motion, half-stumbling behind you as you tug him toward his apartment. He flops onto the couch with a sigh of exaggerated defeat, his body melting into the cushions like he’s been carrying the weight of the world all day. You’re barely inside the door when you march into his bathroom, grabbing the rolls of toilet paper from the cupboard. You march back out, the paper in hand, eyes twinkling with a plan that only you would think of.

“What are you gonna do with those?” he asks, eyebrows raised, his voice still laced with curiosity.

You glance at him, your grin widening. “Jihoon lives next door,” you say, as if it’s the most logical explanation in the world.

Before Vernon can even register the words, you’re already out the door, racing across the yard with toilet paper in hand. It’s only when you reach Jihoon’s front door that he catches up, blinking in disbelief. Without a second thought, you toss the first roll, watching it unfurl over Jihoon’s door like it’s the world’s strangest Christmas decoration.

Vernon laughs behind you, and the sound of it feels like a weight lifting from your chest. You reach back, grabbing his hand, and together, you hang the rest of the rolls on Jihoon’s doorstep, like you’re the most natural pair of pranksters this side of the universe.

But Jihoon? He’s never asleep, not even at 1 AM. The door creaks open, and he blinks at you both, confusion written all over his face. Before he can even say anything, you’re already pulling Vernon, laughing as you both run back toward the apartment, your fingers tangled together in that unconscious way that feels too comfortable for just two friends.

The laughter doesn’t stop when you get back inside, the kind of genuine, effortless laughter that makes everything feel lighter. And somewhere in the midst of it all, Vernon’s hand finds yours again, his fingers brushing against yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s warm, comforting, and as you pull away, he realizes how easy it is to fall into that space between being friends and... something more.

You grin at him, your voice a little softer now, playful but with an undercurrent of something deeper. “Wear a suit tomorrow.”

And just like that, you’re gone, leaving him standing there, wondering if maybe, just maybe, there’s something more to this madness between you two than either of you are willing to admit.

The next morning, Vernon’s eyes feel heavy, his head clouded from last night's antics, but he’s still half-smiling when he opens his door. He’s expecting the usual—more ridiculousness from you—but nothing can prepare him for what he sees.

You stand there, wearing the most gorgeous dress he’s ever seen you in—something long, flowy, and undeniably elegant. The soft fabric cascades down your body in a way that makes his heart skip a beat. You look... stunning.

Vernon blinks, his voice caught in his throat. “W-What... why do you look like that?”

You smirk, stepping forward, giving him a playful glance. “It’s part of the bucket list, grandpa. C’mon, we’re going to a wedding.”

Vernon’s jaw drops slightly, and his face turns a little red as he runs a hand through his messy hair. “Wait, what? We’re crashing a wedding... in that?” He gestures to your dress, still processing that you, his best friend, are suddenly this vision of... graceful.

You’re already out the door before he can form a proper sentence, the heels of your shoes clicking against the pavement in the early morning quiet. Vernon follows, still dumbfounded. It’s one of those mornings where everything feels like it’s moving faster than he can keep up, but he doesn’t mind. Not when you’re this... this.

A few blocks later, you pull up in front of a random church, your grin far too mischievous for its own good. Vernon stares at the building. He’d probably be a lot more freaked out if he weren’t still too stunned by how incredible you look in the dress, but he’s also starting to realize just how far you’re willing to take this.

“You sure this is... okay?” he asks, half-laughing, half-worried. “I mean, crashing a wedding? Isn’t that, like, illegal or something?”

You wink at him. “We’re fine. Trust me.”

Before he can argue, you grab his hand, pulling him toward the doors of the church. Inside, everything looks beautiful, from the soft, delicate flowers decorating the pews to the sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows. The couple at the altar is oblivious to your presence as you slip in quietly, eyes gleaming with excitement.

You both slide into a back row, but the air feels electric with anticipation. Vernon’s not sure if it’s the ridiculousness of the situation, the fact that you look like you belong in a fairy tale, or the overwhelming tension that’s suddenly buzzing between you two, but he feels his pulse quicken.

You’re barely in your seats before the vows start. You nudge Vernon, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think they’re actually gonna stay together?”

Vernon turns to you, shaking his head slightly. “I’m pretty sure they don’t even know we’re here.”

You raise an eyebrow, looking at the happy couple. Then, with a grin, you lean in closer to him, your voice dripping with mischief. “You think they’ll notice if I shout ‘I object!’?”

Vernon’s eyes widen. “No,” he says urgently, grabbing your arm. “You are not doing that. We are not doing that.”

“Oh, come on, it’d be hilarious,” you tease, not at all deterred. “Besides, I feel like I’m in the movie. This is the part where I stand up and ruin everything.”

Vernon’s panicked gaze darts to the altar, and he places a hand over your mouth just as you start to open it to object. “I swear to God, if you do this, I’ll... I’ll...”

“What?” You smirk, your voice muffled by his hand. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

But he doesn’t let go, his grip firm as he leans in closer, whispering. “The worst that can happen is we get kicked out, fined, or thrown in jail, and then you’ll ruin my entire day because we’ll be banned from this city.”

You laugh, muffled by his hand, but there’s a gleam in your eye that tells him you’re not backing down anytime soon. Vernon doesn’t even have the energy to fight anymore. Instead, he sighs, dragging a hand down his face. "I swear you’ll be the death of me."

The vows continue, and you sit back, still chuckling to yourself. Vernon, exasperated, looks around, suddenly realizing just how out of place the two of you are. You’re both in the back row, too over-the-top for this humble little ceremony, but he can’t help but feel a little lighter—just from the absurdity of it all. With you by his side, nothing ever feels as serious as it should.

Finally, the ceremony ends, and you can’t help it—before Vernon can stop you, you leap up, grabbing his hand. You both make a hasty exit, laughing the entire way out the door, the sound echoing in the empty church. Vernon’s laugh is the best part of the whole thing, deep and full, and it sends a rush of warmth through your chest.

Once you’re safely out of sight, you both pause to catch your breath. Vernon is still laughing, his face flushed with the thrill of the moment.

“You’re insane,” he says, shaking his head.

You grin. “Yep. And that’s why you love me.”

He just rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “Alright, alright. What’s next on this bucket list of yours?”

You hand him a crude, hastily made "boarding pass," the kind that’s probably seen better days—ripped corners, hastily scribbled with a sharpie. "You said you wanted to visit all 7 continents, right?" you say, practically beaming with pride.

Vernon looks down at the ticket, his lips pressing into a thin line. He knows he should probably laugh, but there's something in the way your eyes shine as you hand it to him that makes his heart skip a beat. “This is your idea of a boarding pass?” he asks, trying to keep the smile tugging at his lips under control, though he can’t help it.

His gaze lingers on the ticket for a moment longer, the words "ALL 7 CONTINENTS: YOUR TRIP BEGINS NOW!" written in big, bold letters like you’re daring him to go along with it. And despite the absurdity of it all, he feels an inexplicable warmth bloom in his chest.

"Yep," you answer, already bouncing toward his apartment door with an exaggerated pep in your step, totally oblivious to the way he's looking at you, half-amused, half-enchanted. "Now, pack your bags. We’ve got to see the world."

When you finally make it back to Vernon’s apartment, he stops in his tracks, frozen in the doorway. His eyes scan the chaos in front of him—his sanctuary, his personal space, now overtaken by your well-meaning, insanity.

Vernon’s apartment has been transformed into a bizarre, mismatched world: cut-out penguins taped to the walls like some half-hearted tribute to Antarctica, and a jungle of fake plants—thank you, Joshua—cluttering every available surface. The idea behind it makes his head spin, and his first instinct is to laugh, but there’s a part of him that just feels... soft in the center. You did all this for him. For him.

His chest tightens at the thought.

The living room? Completely unrecognizable. Bright blue streamers drape over every chair and shelf, like the ocean swallowed the place whole, and scattered photos of Venice—Venice—are carelessly strewn about in what could only be described as a misrepresentation of Europe. A stuffed kangaroo sits in the corner, staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes. Vernon feels his face flush, certain he might just evaporate into the air at this point.

"Seriously?" he mutters, his voice thick with a mix of incredulity and something else he doesn’t know how to name. He stands at the edge of the room, eyes wide as he takes it all in. “Where the hell am I supposed to sit?”

You cross your arms, that signature grin of yours never fading. "It’s a very culturally immersive experience," you say, your tone so genuinely sincere that he can’t help but snort out a laugh.

Vernon blinks, still trying to make sense of it all. “Yeah, except this doesn’t look like any continent I’ve ever seen,” he complains, flopping down onto the couch, his eyes still glued to the stuffed kangaroo as if it’s personally offended him. “What continent is this supposed to be, huh?”

You gesture around the room as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “Australia, obviously.” You pause, eyes narrowing in mock thought. “Okay, maybe just the kangaroo part. But the jungle’s definitely from there.”

Vernon sighs deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. He’s a mix of exasperated and... something else—something a little closer to fondness. He glances around the room again, his eyes landing on an inflatable globe sitting in the corner like it’s part of some weird interactive exhibit. It’s as if the world itself is laughing at him.

"Okay, okay," he groans, his voice muffled as he settles into the couch, practically sinking into the cushions in an effort to escape the madness. "What the hell did you do to my kitchen?"

You walk past him, an easy laugh falling from your lips. "Oh, you’re going to love this." You swing open the kitchen door, revealing an entire North Pole setup. His fridge has been transformed into some sort of igloo-like thing, fake snow covering every available surface. And there are more penguins than he’s ever wanted to count.

He stares at it for a moment, then looks back at you with that fond exasperation he can never quite mask. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Your eyes meet his, and for a fleeting second, he catches a glimpse of something deeper—something that makes his stomach flip. You’re grinning, the light in your eyes so full of life, and for the briefest moment, he wonders how he got so lucky to be the one you’re sharing all this with.

"You asked to see the world," you say easily, leaning against the doorframe. "You’re welcome, Vernon. The world’s right here, in your living room."

And just like that, his heart feels too big for his chest, like it might burst at any second. The world’s right here. All because of you.

Vernon rubs his temples, knowing full well that the chaos you've brought into his life isn't going anywhere. He’s resigned, but there’s a tenderness in his gaze as he looks at you. “I think I might actually melt into the floor,” he mutters, his voice a little softer than he intended.

You sit beside him, nudging him with your elbow. “Oh, come on. You’re living the dream.” The way you say it is so light, so carefree, but Vernon hears the underlying sincerity in your voice. And for a moment, it’s all too much—too good to be real.

“I didn’t even get a heads-up about the stuffed animals,” he says with a mock scowl. “I thought this was a serious bucket list item.”

“Oh, come on,” you tease, leaning into him and nudging him again. “Now, let’s check off some more, hm?”

Vernon looks at you then, really looks at you, his eyes softening as he lets out a sigh. "What’s next, then? Antarctica next door?"

You whip out your phone with a grin, tapping away at it. "Actually... now we’ve got a road trip to take. Remember that whole ‘see all 50 states’ thing on your bucket list?"

He groans but doesn’t protest. In fact, his heart’s beating a little faster than he’d like to admit as he watches you bounce around. He wishes he could say the words that have been stuck in his throat for ages, the ones that would make this whole ridiculous situation realer—I love you, you know. But the moment always seems to slip away before he can say it, like some elusive thing just out of reach. You grab his hand and drag him back out to your car, and the words die on his lips before he can say them.

"What are you dragging me into now?" he asks, half-laughing, half-dreading whatever you've come up with this time.

You stop, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Well, I had to convince some people to help us with this little idea," you say, voice dripping with sweet, sweet sarcasm.

As if on cue, Seungkwan, Minghao, and Mingyu appear out of nowhere, each of them holding huge posters of American landmarks. They're dressed in ridiculous outfits to match the theme, some of them in matching ‘I <3 NY’ shirts, others with neon-colored fanny packs, clearly ready to be part of your insanity. Vernon blinks a few times, not sure whether to laugh or scream.

"Wait... you're seriously making them walk around the car with these?" Vernon asks, his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

"Yep! That’s the plan!" you reply, already hopping into the driver's seat with a satisfied grin, completely unfazed by the absurdity that surrounds you.

Seungkwan shrugs, doing his best to strike a dramatic pose with the Statue of Liberty poster. "It’s for the art," he says flatly.

Minghao waves his own Yellowstone National Park sign with an exaggerated flair, practically in a full tourist getup. "I’m just here for the free snacks," he mutters, earning a chuckle from Mingyu, who’s got the Grand Canyon poster, looking as serious as possible.

Vernon, his hands on his hips, can’t help but laugh, shaking his head. "You people are out of your minds." But even as the absurdity sinks in, there's a smile tugging at his lips. Maybe it’s because he’s a little bit in love with how much you’ve thrown yourself into making his ridiculous bucket list a reality. Or maybe it’s because you’re dragging him into this whirlwind, and honestly, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

"Let’s get this show on the road," you say, revving the engine and pulling the car into gear.

"God help me," Vernon mutters under his breath, but the softness in his voice betrays the hint of a smile. "You’re insane."

"But you love me," you reply easily, your eyes dancing as you give him a sidelong glance.

Vernon shakes his head, but there’s a certain warmth in his gaze, the one that says he’s been in love with you for a while now, even if he’ll never admit it out loud. "Yeah, yeah... You’re lucky you’re cute."

"Good thing I know it," you tease back, your grin widening.

As you drive off, the posters still held aloft by your friends, Vernon finally lets himself sink back into the passenger seat. The road ahead is uncertain, and the bucket list items are absurd, but somehow, everything feels right with you by his side. Even if he can’t say it yet, a piece of his heart already belongs to you.

"You’re really dragging me into all of this, huh?" he asks softly, more to himself than you.

You shoot him a playful wink. "We’re just getting started, grandpa."

And with that, you hit the open road—toward the next absurd thing on his bucket list, and somewhere in the middle of it all, Vernon’s heart beats just a little bit faster.

Vernon learned long ago to not question you.  By now, he’s learned that resistance is futile. If he fights, you’ll just drag him along anyway. So instead, he sighs, settles into the passenger seat, and lets you drive him to God-knows-where, watching the scenery blur past in streaks of gold and amber as the sun dips lower on the horizon.

He only starts to get suspicious when you pull onto a dirt road, the hum of the city long behind you. The sky stretches wide and open above the fields, the last traces of daylight painting everything in soft pinks and oranges. It’s beautiful. It’s suspiciously beautiful.

"Okay," he finally says, shifting in his seat. "Where are we going?"

"You’ll see," you reply, that usual mischievous glint in your eye.

Vernon raises a brow but doesn’t push. He just watches as you drive deeper into nowhere, the road narrowing until you finally pull off into a clearing. There’s nothing but rolling fields around you, bathed in the fading light of sunset. No city lights, no noise, no people. Just you, him, and the sky.

"Alright," Vernon says slowly, stepping out of the car and stretching. "This is either a really elaborate set-up for a birthday party or the part where you murder me."

You snort, popping open the trunk. "Guess you’ll have to wait and see."

And then—before he can even begin to process—he watches as you start pulling out the single most ridiculous thing he’s ever seen.

A comically large telescope.

Not just any telescope. He recognizes it immediately.

"Wait. Is that Seokmin’s?"

You grin as you struggle to set it up. "Yep. He was in his ‘astrology era’, remember?"

"Astronomy," Vernon corrects, but he’s laughing now, shaking his head. "He still says it’s not a phase."

"He says they’re basically the same thing," you reply, adjusting the telescope’s stand. "Which is wrong, but whatever. I borrowed it for the night."

Vernon snorts, but something warm tugs at his chest when he notices the rest of your setup. A blanket is spread out over the grass, weighed down by a half-unpacked picnic. You even brought pillows—like you planned for the two of you to stay here for a while.

"You really thought this through," he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck.

You glance up at him, and for a moment, there’s no teasing in your expression—just something soft, something open. "Well, yeah," you say, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "You said you wanted to go stargazing."

And just like that, something tight in Vernon’s chest loosens.

It’s strange. He’s always been the type to keep things close, to let feelings sit in his throat, unsaid. But with you, everything is so effortless, so natural. Even when you’re dragging him on ridiculous adventures, even when you’re borrowing absurdly large telescopes from friends who definitely did not consent to this specific use—being with you has never felt like work.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t. Instead, he sits beside you on the blanket, listening to the quiet hum of the wind as the first stars flicker to life in the sky.

You nudge him toward the telescope. "Go on, look."

Vernon leans in, adjusting the focus until the blurred lights sharpen into something breathtaking. A thousand tiny pinpricks of light, stretching endlessly into the dark.

"Cross it off," you murmur, passing him your phone.

He takes your phone, stares at the list that has been slowly dwindling in size all day. He stares at stargazing for a long moment before finally pressing the checkbox.

You grin. "So? Worth it?"

He looks at you, at the way the stars reflect in your eyes, at the way you’re just watching him like you’re memorizing this moment.

Something about it makes his throat go dry.

"Yeah," he says softly. "Worth it."

For a while, neither of you say anything. The air between you is heavy with something unspoken, something real. But for once, Vernon doesn’t feel the urge to fill the silence. He just lets it settle, lets himself exist here—under the stars, beside you, with the whole world stretched out before him.

And in the distance, his phone vibrates.

Seokmin.

SEOKMIN [9:32 PM]: tell me ur respecting my telescope. photos NOW.

Vernon chuckles under his breath. You peek open one eye, already reaching for your phone.

"Should I send him a blurry one just to piss him off?" you ask, smirking.

Vernon shakes his head, but the laughter comes easily now. "You’re evil."

"But you love me," you reply, grinning.

He doesn’t answer right away. Just watches as you type out a response, as your face glows faintly in the light of the screen.

Something about it—about all of this—makes his heart ache.

Maybe he’ll say it. Maybe he won’t.

For now, he just lets himself enjoy the now. The stars above. The warmth beside him. The possibility of everything still waiting to come.

And with that, he leans back, staring at the sky, listening to your laughter carry into the night.

The stars have shifted overhead by the time you make your way back to the car, the air cooler now, crisp with the quiet hum of crickets in the distance. The field stretches wide and endless around you, bathed in soft moonlight. Vernon watches as you rummage through the trunk, muttering something under your breath before you emerge, cradling something vaguely lumpy in your hands.

He squints. "What... is that?"

You grin, setting it carefully on the picnic blanket. "A vaguely peanut-shaped cake."

He stares at it. "I—why?"

"For the plot," you say, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And because I know you would complain you never got to eat anything with peanuts in it, so this is the best compromise you’ll get."

Vernon exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You really did all this for me?"

"Obviously," you say, rolling your eyes before settling beside him, pulling a lighter from your pocket. A single candle stands at the center of the cake, flickering to life as you shield it from the gentle breeze with your hand.

"Now make a wish before the wind does it for you," you tell him, voice lighter than the moment actually feels.

Vernon hesitates, gaze flickering from the candle to you. The glow reflects in your eyes, turning them impossibly warm, impossibly bright. He swallows.

He doesn’t know how to say it—how to explain that he doesn’t need a wish. That you’ve somehow managed to take a list he thought about years ago, half-joking, half-dreaming, and made every absurd little thing real. That without him realizing it, somewhere between the wedding-crashing, the zany decorations in his apartment, and you pulling off ridiculous crap just to make him laugh, you’ve become the thing he never even thought to write down.

The only thing that’s ever really mattered.

He closes his eyes, breathes in, and blows the candle out.

When he opens them, you’re already smiling at him.

And suddenly, everything tilts.

Because in that moment, with the stars stretched wide above you and the warmth of your gaze steady on him, Vernon realizes that if he doesn’t say something now, he might never get the chance again.

"So, grandpa," you tease, nudging him, trying to pull him back into the lighthearted rhythm you always fall into. "Ready to become a pile of bones? Accomplished everything on your list?"

He frowns. Shakes his head. And only feels mildly bad for the way your shoulders drop just a little, your teasing smile faltering for the first time all night.

"There’s one more thing," he murmurs softly, setting the cake aside between you.

You blink, tilting your head. "Huh? I thought we—"

But before you can finish, he reaches for you—loops an arm around your waist, pulls you in without hesitation. His other hand comes up to your face, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek before he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. He lets his fingers linger there, his touch impossibly gentle.

You smile now, smaller, softer, your voice barely above a whisper. "What’s the last thing, Vern?"

His heart hammers against his ribs.

He doesn’t answer. Just leans in, slow but certain, closing the space between you. And when his lips finally meet yours, he swears the whole world tilts again, but this time, it doesn’t feel so dizzying.

This time, it feels like something finally settling into place.

He pulls back just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against yours, his voice unsteady but sure when he finally speaks.

"I think," he murmurs, his thumb tracing a slow, absentminded circle against your waist, "I was supposed to fall in love with you a long time ago."

You blink, your breath catching in your throat.

He exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "But, uh. I think I got distracted by how annoying you are."

A scandalized gasp escapes you, but he’s already grinning, ducking his head to catch your lips in another kiss before you can hit him.

And for the first time in his life, there’s nothing left unchecked.

tagging: @ottersmind @blvenote @kyeomsworld @cookiearmy @armycarat2612 @rjea @xylatox @flwrshwa

@christinewithluv @headlockimnida @letwiiparkjay @cherr-y-eji @codeinbelle @baguette-atiny @whoa-jo @noiceoofed

[dearestzaychik]

Our Forsakened Destiny.

This Fanfic is for those starving Forsaken Fans out there by the way!!

(( same here ngl... ))

[ Forsaken x Isekai'd Reader ]

[ Gender Neutral Reader ]

TW : Cursing, Touching Jokes ( only mentioned once ), DoubleFedora Mentioned but It's not something that will happen during the actual story.

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[ PROLOGUE ]

READER’S POV.

Clouds up in the skies, in a bustling city during the afternoon as they woke up to the sound of ringing.

“..What time is it already?”

Stated the individual, picking their phone up from the stand as they glanced at the upcoming discord notifications and a call from their friends. Their messages flickering in the channel as the Voice channel looked to be active as well. Looks like Peanut is the most active in the channel as of late.

MENTAL ASYLUM

The NUT :

@Loser101

Join.

Naps :

They might be asleep nut..

The NUT :

at 2 in the afternoon

I don’t think so

Their waking up bc

I said so!

Loser101 :

Boo

Hobo :

Oh my goodness me

Toilet

Menoes :

WAITT THEIR BOTH ALIVE

Hobo :

Im pooping rn

Loser101 :

Hold your horses I jst woke up..

The NUT :

Did you

stay up late..

again

Loser101 :

Yeah…

Menoes :

I think we might have gotten [ Y/N ] addicted to Forsaken..

The NUT :

GOOD

Now join us!!

@Loser101

Naps :

Don’t forget to join VC as well!

Stupid Idiot :

[ Sent an Attachment. ]

Loser101 :

Hold on I still need to get up dawg..

The NUT :

well be quicker

Menoes :

Veen I’m gonna touch you.

Stupid Idiot :

Yeahhh I’m switching out of 07..

Menoes :

WAITT NO I'M SORRY—

Naps :

Oh my days, Just play the game already the match is starting!

[ Message #general ]

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Right, Your dear friends. A few days ago, they seemed to pull you into a game called Forsaken on Roblox. Usually, you don't play games such as Roblox, preferring Identity V over games like that. But they somehow pulled you into a Roblox Game that had somewhat of the same mechanics as Identity V, hence the heavy persuasion from Peanut especially.

“Impatient as always.”

You quoted, knowing how impatient Peanut can be. They already seemed to have started before you, but nevertheless they can wait a little longer. After all, you just woke up and you at least needed to get ready for the day.

THIRD PERSON POV.

Getting up from the bed, slipping into your bunny slippers as you walked to the Kitchen. Turning on the Coffee Machine.. It was just a normal day like always, Thankfully there was a Holiday during Friday meant it was gonna be a Long Weekend. You didn’t need to worry about going to work for now, that’s for sure.

Peanut and the others are still waiting, but they wouldn’t mind waiting for a little while longer. Even though you played the game, you didn't know much compared to how the group knew the Techniques and Story for each character. Maybe the basics of the gameplay you definitely grasped, but the Story behind the characters? Not so much. Maybe the simplified version, but even so it's still limited knowledge about the game itself.

Maybe one day you’ll finally find the time to actually start reading and looking into the story itself.

Ding! Seems like the coffee machine is done making your coffee, you can actually start going through your day.

READER’S POV.

As you were about to take a sip of your freshly brewed coffee, a notification rang in the air once more.. Right, Peanut and the others were still waiting for you. As you opened Discord, you didn’t bother to read the messages in the channel as you immediately joined the VC.

“Oh my god… The whole entire server is targeting us at this point!”

Stated Naps, seemingly frustrated at the current situation she had at hand.

“We’re healers, of course they would target us because we are practically a whole healing buffet for the survivors if we keep surviving!”

Meos replied to Naps, At this point not taking everything seriously as he laughed it off.

“Finally, [ Y/N ] joined the vc... Join us right now in Forsaken or else I’m gonna fucking loose it.. I’m about to be killer right now and may Zeus strike me down if I’m lying, I’M GONNA MURDER THIS FUCKING GUEST-”

Peanut suddenly shot out, before muting her mic. She doesn’t usually open her mic unless it's to call something out or rant about a player, either way Peanut is just.. being Peanut.

“Alright, alright.. Just give me a moment to open my PC then I’ll join.”

You, along with Meos and Naps continued to chat in the call as you joined the server. Looks like Veen was in here too, but he didn’t have his mic opened. Either way, you managed to join in time as the Round loaded in, With Peanut being the Killer as Mafioso.. While you played Chance, unable to switch characters either way since you joined as soon as the round started.

“WAIT OH MY GOD THERE’S A 007N7 IN THE ROUND–”

“Meos, No.”

Surprisingly after that whole thing as well as Peanut killing off the Toxic Guest she wanted to kill, The round was a friendly round as Peanut didn’t seem to want to kill anybody else.. Other than the fact that she was approaching you slowly of course.. She shipped DoubleFedora, but was very open to other ships of course. The pinnacle of being a Multishipper..

“No, no, no. Stop being gay...”

Naps stated, trying to body block Peanut away from you, definitely done from Peanut’s shenanigans.. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, this was the usual events that happened during your gameplays with your dear friends. Sadly, Caleb and Debt didn’t seem to be able to play today, but there were still plenty of times to play with them either way.

“Sorry guys, I prefer 1x1x1x1 x Sonic the Hedgehog as my OTP..”

Veen suddenly stated, jumpscaring everybody with how randomly timed he opened his mic. Earning a questionable silence in the voice call before the collection of sudden screams replied..

“..WHAT-”

After the round ended, A Message popped up onto your screen. It quoted..

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[ team c00lkidd join today! ]

- [ YES ]

- [ NO ] [ YES. ]

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“..Guys, do you know what this message is?”

Although it seemed to be somewhat in themed of what you’re playing, considering there was a Killer that was themed around c00lkidd, but you couldn’t help but feel wary about the message. After all, none of your friends ever mentioned a message like this.

“What do you mean by a message? Did someone message you?”

Meos asked, seemingly clueless about the message you received. His tone feigned concern, earning you Naps and the other’s attention as well.

“..No, it's a message box that popped up in the game. It says `team c00lkidd join today`.”

Before you could even get a reply from any of your friends, your PC started crashing as multiple errors seemed to come out while everything else was becoming glitchy and distorted. Your friends tried reaching out, feigning even more concern when you didn’t respond.

“..[ Y/N ]? A—-re yo[] there?—”

“Can yo[] 6ear u—”

The voices of your friends glitching out before an uncomfortable silence lingered in the air, their voices long gone as the only thing you seemed to be able to hear was a static noise coming from your PC. Suddenly, there was a force pulling you in specifically from the Monitor itself. No matter how hard you tried to pull yourself away from it, the harder it was to get out of this predicament. Eventually, the force overpowered your feeble strength as a human, getting sucked inside the Monitor as everything around you seemed to crumble apart and glitch out even more.

You were scared, frightened to say the least. After all, You still had so much to live for. Looking at your hands as you fell into a black abyss, you can see yourself glitching out as well. Although it was painless, it sent a wave of sickness through you. As the further you fell, the more it was a struggle to even open your eyes. The last thing you could see before you passed out was a pop up in red stating..

[ Welcome to your new home. ]

:)

Whether that message was meant to comfort you or not, It definitely didn’t help. Whatever was happening to you, it was far from normal against Human standards if it weren’t so obvious enough. Cursing yourself as you couldn’t open your eyes any longer, succumbing to the abyss that pulled you further and further as your little life was about to take a turn. 

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[ ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED. ]

Welcome to Hell.

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Onto the next chapter..

Chapter 1 :

NOTES

I'm starving so I decided to cook food myself.. It might look like a bit of a joke first but we can take some jokes then and there! Especially since this is just the prologue :3

Right now, this is a small introduction to a series so do hope in mind that everything might not stay the same!

[allophonicmess]

Too Sweet

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

Act 3

Warnings: spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine

This is a fluff chapter. Gotta give you guys some candy after all that angst

Word count 4.1 K

Life resumed as normal after that. Or as normal as it could be when you are suddenly placed in the new timeline. Logan kept getting confused by little details that were different to the life he had lived before. Professor X ? Sure he exists but he had hair. Cyclops? Oh yeah. He was just as annoying as he remembered. Who are the fucking Avengers and what sort of rich nerd was Tony Stark? And what about Jean?

“A hot red head with the telekinetic powers?” Wade hummed, pretending to be lost in thought. “Uh, no. UNLESS! Charles used to have a beautiful flowing mane that I don’t know about. He is turning grey, you know… but it suits him. Silver fox”              

So Jean was out of the picture. That was good, right?

Logan groaned at Wade's bad joke. He shifted his focus outside, watching the landscape change from looming tall skyscrapers to even fields and trees that started changing colour with the season. It reminded him of home.

“Just to get this straight.” Logan shifted in his seat. The car that Wade had bought from the dealership had been heavily discounted and Logan now understood why. You would think it can’t get worse than the Odyssey? Oh boy, were you wrong. It was too small for 4 people, let alone 2 mutant men. He already felt sorry for whoever might have to sit in the back for whatever reason.

“Y/N has powers?” Logan asked, trying to play it cool. The whole drive had been a big Q&A.

“Yup,” Wade said with a pop. One hand on the steering wheel and the rest of him laid back in his seat.

“They call her Osmium, too?” Logan didn’t like this dependency on the wanna-be hero. But he had to make a good first impression.

“Osmimimum? Uh no. She is called Atom” Wade laughed “Don’t if she actually does stuff with atoms… It's more like…” Wade groaned as he tried to think of an example.

“She manipulates density.” Logan pointed out. They had trained together many times. But Y/n was never allowed to use her full potential with the X-men. They condemned violence and so she was often left out on mission and focused on keeping the school running.

“Ugh- I guess? She once told me in great, boring detail why ‘Atom’ is a bad superhero name for her but they kept it for the marketability. “ He shrugged “Oh! I remember that one time we stopped a child-mutant trafficking and she got mad, like REAL MAD, and then she turned this one guy into goop.” Wade nodded fondly, thinking back at that moment. “And I mean like Nickelodeon kids choice award goop, like slurpable slushy goo, like-“

“Okay, alright! I get it.” Logan groaned in annoyance. Shaking his head at Wade. He was thankful for the man’s support and friendship but god was he annoying. Constantly.

“I wish she would do that to me sometime. It’s on my ways-to-die bingo. But she keeps refusing!” Deadpool hit the wheel dramatically.

“You are disgusting,” Logan stated dryly. “The most disgusting person I ever met.”

“Don’t forget the most annoying!”

...

The decision to go back to teaching was not made out of fun or for the joy of doing it. Maybe partially, even though Logan would not openly confess so. It was made out of necessity. Living with Wade and Al became tiresome after the first few weeks. It was always the same antiques, the lack of schedule as well as a constant state of chaos that made him crave the ordered life at the school once again. He hoped that it would give him a sense of belonging. The X-men might be different here, with a few quips and details that didn’t match with his reality. But living at the school would tie him to a strict schedule and by god, he needed some structure in his life.

 But all in all, it meant home.

“Okay, peanut. Today is a big day. But I know you’ll do great and meet a lot of new friends.” Wade joked in a motherly tone as they arrived at the Mansion. “And no hair pulling or biting unless they ask for it, okay?”

“I can’t wait to be rid of you” Logan groaned as the car came to a halt. He exited the car with a low groan, stretching to lose stiffed muscles. Not having to constantly ride in Wade's joke of a car was another reason that he preferred living at Xavier’s Institution. Speaking off:

“There you are. Welcome, welcome.” Xavier rolled into the mansions yard.

“A pleasure to have you, Logan. I must say, I was very pleasantly surprised when I received your response to my inquiry.” He moved towards Logan, offering his hand for a handshake.

Logan inspected the man. He was older, in his 40s maybe. But younger than the Charles Xavier he had worked with. He sported shaggy longer hair that was starting to thin out. Soon he would need to get it trimmed to keep his professional exterior. Along with a beard that was rather spotty and seemed too reminisce of his look in the 70s. Xavier looked like a mix of the two versions that Logan got to meet during his time at the school and it made him wonder how time worked here. Events seemed to play out in different order, they didn’t happen at all or much later than seemed correct.

He shook Xavier’s hand, thanking him for the offer. “Of course. I was surprised when you contacted me.” Logan confessed. His gaze shifted towards the grand building in front of him. It was the same old English style build that he knew, with a few modern elements added here and there.

“Is it familiar to you? The school? I assume you have experienced quite a few dejá-vus since arriving here.” Charles observed Logan.

“I do. Some things are the same. Others don’t match what I know or didn’t happen at all.” He confessed. Already feeling the brother connection build, similar to the one he had with the other Charles.

“You will find your answers. I am sure of it.” Charles turned around motioning Logan to follow him inside. “I think it is best if we continue this conversation in my office.” He looked over his shoulder at Wade, who had waited in the car, listening in on the conversation.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be on my way. You call me if you need to get picked up, Pookie!” He waved at Logan in a motherly way.

“You aren’t coming?” He asked, somewhat confused. But then he saw Charle’s face, the intense stare he gave Wade.

“Uhhh, no I technically have a house ban for no apparent reason-“

“You burned down the west wing” Charles answered dryly.

Wade clicked his tongue, “Right, okay. Yeah… But! It’s very modern now.” He chuckled weakly. “You’ll still call me up for a mission, right?” He tried to persuade the professor.

“If the mission takes place outside of my building then yes.” Charles agreed, focusing back on Logan. And leading him inside. Neither of them commented on the cheer that Wade gave as he drove off.

Being back at the school felt surprisingly good to Logan. It was like coming back from a long holiday. Most everything was the same: Students running in the hallways, playing games in the gardens and-

“Fancy seeing you here!”

Logan turned around quickly, looking for whoever addressed him. Some children were buzzing along the halls, none of them too interested in him. Then he spotted her by the stairs. Leaning onto the dark wooden rails of the gallery. The light from the window behind her illuminating her figure.

“Y/n”, he breathed.

“Hi! Charles told me that you wanted to start teaching again.” She made her way downstairs, focus shifting between not falling and keeping her gaze on him. She seemed pleasantly surprised to see him.

He turned more toward her, watching her get closer to ground level. With each step he felt his excitement grow “He contacted me, actually. Asked whether I wanted to work here…”

“Oh really? What a coincidence ”She grinned mischievously, stopping at the end of the stairs and leaning on one of the bannisters. She kept a little space between them. There might be some familiarity between them but she didn’t want to push him too far yet and give him the chance to get closer to her if he felt like it.

But Logan stayed in place: “Do you have anything to do with that?”

She smirked,  and he felt some of his charm return to him . He might be rusty but some things were just engraved in him.

“Maybe” She shrugged, smiling softly with a playful sparkle in her eyes “But I’m assuming that you won’t be teaching history, right?” Y/n teased carefully. The multiverse situation was a thing she wanted to be careful about. Wade had told her a little bit about what had happened to Logan before he transferred but she didn’t know any details.  

“No, I teach PE and defence classes. You do science, right?” He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, hoping to lose the tension in his body. He threw the tidbit of knowledge into the conversation, hoping that he was right and that the two versions of her had that much in common.

“Chemistry and Literature, yeah.” She smiled. She then looked at her watch before pointing towards another corridor with a sigh “I’d love to talk more, but I need to get to class. Maybe we could meet sometime.” She secured the book in her arms.

“Yes.” He answered with a stiff nod, his hands were getting sweaty.

They stood In awkward silence.

“Maybe over a coffee?” She asked, looking up at him, her lip curled upwards. Her look became more expecting as he watched her in silence.

 He would catch the bait she just threw, right? Scott had laughed when she asked him about what Logan had been like; What this version might be like.

 ‘He’s an asshole’ He said ‘a cocky asshole and who thinks he can charm any girl he likes’ she blushed at that comment ‘But he is into the dark, mysterious type if that is what you are after’

“Maybe”, Logan gave  cold and curtly.

He regretted his demeanor when he saw her smile slip for just a moment.

Fuck.

Her face slipped for a moment “Oh.. okay.” She huffed softly. “See you around then.” Y/n nodded quickly before running off.

...

A routine established itself after the first weeks back at the school. The work there itself was the same. Teach the children standard curricula, training them in controlling their powers and some extracurricular activities.

He would spend some evenings with the other members of Team X ,as they called themselves here. Sometimes he would meet Y/n in the hallway but he didn’t work up the courage to stop and talk to her beyond a quick ‘hello’.

What is wrong with you? You used to sweep women off their feet. She is offering herself to you at any chance and you still can’t manage to ask her out?

He sighed as he changed back into his regular clothes. The class had just ended. It was Friday, still fairly warm for October and the trees looked beautiful in all shades of red, orange and yellow.

 Would be perfect for a romantic walk… A charming, rugged man could ask a woman out for that.

“That guy died a long time ago…” He mumbled to himself. Picking up his bag and closing the locker.

He exited the gym, making his way to his room or rather apartment. Wade managed to burn down the teacher's quarters along with the kitchens and cafeteria in some wicked stunt. No one knew what happened and that was for the best, he guessed.

However, that incident resulted in a modernized reconstruction with more spacious rooms for the teachers and a communal cafeteria that students and members of Team X shared.  Great for extroverts but Logan had to pass it every time he went to his rooms, much to his dismay. To make it worse,  the communal space was separate from the hall via a glass wall, allowing for a perfect view of everyone who tried to sneak past. Which led to uncomfortable situations such as this.

“Logan!” Piotr called, waving his huge metallic arm to get the other man's attention. Logan's initial reaction was to ignore him as he had done many times with the members of his old team.

No, he wanted to do better. He needed to. It was that kind of behavior that made him spiral in the first place. So he took a deep breath and channeled all jolliness available to him after 6 hours of teaching and a generally low level of it to begin with.  He slowly made his way towards the teacher's table.

“Come, eat with us.” Piotr offered him the seat next to him on the thick wooden bench. A seat opposite of… fuck- of fucking course he was in on Wade’s plan to play matchmaker.

 “We can’t have you get scrawny, eh?” he joked.

“Not that that would be likely to occur” Y/n joked as Logan sat down. His look snapped towards her and her eyes widened in shock at what had just come out of her mouth.

A knowing, wicked grin spread across Colossus's face. That fucking asshole…

“What are we having?” Logan asked, ignoring the situation that had just occurred. He tried to keep his gaze on Piotr who was busy filling a plate with whatever was in the big metal pot on the side of the table. His eyes shifted to Y/n every so often.

“Pierogi. I am trying out new recipes for a cooking class with my students” He said proudly, placing the plate in front of Logan “Y/n said, they are very good. Right?” He asked her, putting the woman on the spot.

“Oh, uhm…yeah. I like the new… stuffing.” She said, the answer sounding more like a question, carefully looking at Logan when he tried it. She was thankful for Piotr’s brotherly demeanor and gentle nature. Yet sometimes he would tease her as any older brother liked to do. And they sure liked to do it in front of people that the younger sibling might fancy.

Logan nodded in agreement, complimenting the man for his cooking.

“You cook here regularly?” He asked with a mouthful.

“Of course! Cooking is a very important life skill. As well as baking. You should join one of Y/n’s baking classes, she is very talented.” Colossus complimented the woman, making her grin.

“I plan on holding a workshop on the weekend for older students and alumni. You should come.” She offered, a hopeful look in her eyes. Maybe she was too discrete the last time she tried to get Logan to ask her out. So this time she tried to be more direct with her offer.

“I don’t bake,” Logan answered in a backhanded comment as he continued to eat. He didn’t think too much about it. He had planned to ask her out after lunch. He was overly focused on what he would say to her once the others left to notice how he had sounded.

It only occurred to him when he saw how Y/n visibly deflated. “Oh, right” She hummed, swallowing another bite of her food, eyes looking anywhere but towards the man who had once again rejected her so swiftly.

Piotr, just sighed with disappointment, leaning back in his chair. His hard elbow bumped into Logan’s side.

You fucked it up. Again.

...

“Okay, stop. You mean to tell me that she tried to ask you out not once but TWICE and you rejected her?” Wade paced through the living room. Trying to make sense of what his friend had just told him. “You mean to tell me that you now spend 3 months at that school? Being in her proximity 24/7 and actively avoiding her?”

Logan sat on the familiar black couch that looked even more beaten up than the last time he was at the flat. With disgust, he realized that he didn’t even want to know what caused the new damage.

 “I don’t avoid her”

“Oh no? And yet the few times she does catch you creeping in the halls you manage to scare her off.” Deadpool said down one of the rotatable bar chairs. Swirling dramatically.

“No wonder the girl’s not interested in a sad drunk fuck like you,” Al commented from the table where she sat, carefully packaging her newest acquisition of sellable goods.

“ No, Al that’s the thing! The girl wants him DESPITE being a sad drunk fuck!”  Wade jumped from the chair to pace around some more. He had to come up with a plan to get the two to spend time together, and get to know each other better. Create some closeness to let the sparks fly and catch on.

“That’s even worse.” Al laughed, snoring.

“Thank you for the compliments… Reassuring.” Logan groaned, regretting to even have answered Wade when he asked him about how things were going with Y/n. Maybe he wasn’t ready to be with someone again. He liked her and wanted to get to know her but something was stopping him. The urge to protect her from danger and he still thought of himself as the greatest danger to her and his team.

“On the other hand, she is still interested after being rejected TWICE. So you still have a chance, Pookie.” Wade said, sitting down next to Logan, yet again way too close.

“I’m gonna help you, buddy, Don’t you worry.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing Logan's ears “Act three needs some lovin’ and I make sure you get all the loving you need, baby” He whispered towards Logan. And with dread, and a bit of disgust,  Logan accepted that he had no chance of stopping the man.

...

By the time the midterms rolled around, Logan had gotten familiar with the schedule and his  profession once again. He slept better, tended to snap less at people and even his drinking tendencies seemed to get better. Being part of a community felt good and it made him angry at his younger self for rejecting the people who loved him out of some ill-placed ideology: that to keep them safe, he had to distance himself from them.

And yet you are doing it again.

He sighed as he trotted into the community kitchen. He broke his coffee maker in a fit of frustration last week and hadn’t found the time or energy to tell Charles to get a new one. He stayed out of the professor's way for the most part, not wanting to be roped into some conversation about ‘needing therapy’. So he sourced his caffeine intake from the machine that sat in the big, homely department kitchen. Another benefit was that there was always a fresh pot ready and waiting for him. Downside, there were almost always people in the kitchen, waiting for others to join in for conversation and breakfast.

This morning he should be safe from conversation. Most students and some staff went home for the fall semester break, leaving the school running on a minimal level to accommodate those who had no home to go to. There were no classes, meaning that the school apparatus calmed to a halt.

In practice that meant that almost everyone slept in with no pressure to get up early. And for Logan, that meant that he could enjoy his drink in peace before people tried to talk to him.

Lost in thought he strolled into the kitchen. It seemed empty, thank god. He sighed in relief, stretching languidly. The air exiting his lungs in a low groan.

Then a soft click sounded through the room.

A fridge being closed.

“Oh hey, you’re up early.” Y/n appeared behind the full-size fridge door that had previously shielded her from his view. She looked a little tired, not yet fully awake and a bit tousled from sleep.

Aww C’mon. Maybe Wade was right about the universe wanting them to come together. But primarily to annoy him and allow for Wade to give him the ‘I told you so’ speech.

“So are you.”  He answered, leaving on the door frame and watching her pour some creamer into her cup. Upon closer inspection, she did look younger than her other iteration. Her features were softer looking with fewer wrinkles and scars. He needed to ask her about that at some point.

She leaned onto the counter to reach for another cup, taking it out of the overhead cabinet. Proceeding to pour some coffee in it. “How do you take your coffee?” She asked, turning towards him.

“I’ll take two sugars” He answered, moving towards her with slow even steps. The threat of Wade’s ‘help’ kept looming in the back of his mind, pushing him to be more open towards her and to come out of his shell. Who knows what that maniac had in mind?

Y/n hummed in agreement, dropping in two cubes of sugar and stirring the dark liquid before handing it to Logan.

He thanked her softly, holding the porcelain with his much larger hands. He had moved quite close to her, both leaning against the kitchen counter. The closeness and difference in height between them meant that Y/n had to look up to him, to make eye contact.

With a grin he noticed how she shifted her stand, one hand bunching up the material of her cardigan.

You still got it if you let it happen, man.

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying their drinks and watching the sun paint pictures onto the kitchen surfaces, colored by the stained glass windows.

She was the one who broke the silence. “Are you ready for the training session today?” She asked, turning towards him, shifting her position so that her hip was pressed against the counter.

“Training?” He asked confused, setting down his cup to cross his arms over his chest, the muscles shifting visibly under his skin.

That’s right! Show her what you got!

“Yes, staff training? We got the call from Washington about a mutant security threat. Charles wants us to be ready just in case. Do you read your emails?” She teased, watching him over the rim of her mug.

“I don’t know how that stuff works if I’m honest with ya.” He shrugged “Do you go on missions regularly? On Government orders?” He remembered that Xavier had mentioned something along the lines of that. Some complicated struggles between heroes about government regulation and so on.

“Yes, after the blip it was decided that an X-team force should be established to take care of mutant-related threats or endangerments.” She explained.

He had heard of that, too. “Right. What was that blip again?”

The energy in the room shifted suddenly.

Y/n huffed, almost spilling a bit of her drink. “Ha, that’s a bit of a heavy topic for morning coffee talks.” She looked around uncomfortably. Logan seems to have hit upon a heavy subject.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He apologized quickly. Beating himself up for screwing it up once again.

“No, no it’s fine.” She shook her head, setting down her drink to cross her arms as he did. Only that she seemed to do it defensively. “Half of all life stopped existing for five years and… that left a few scars.” She explained somberly, softly nodding to herself.

Logan blinked, his mind moving at high speed to get the conversation on a good topic again. Anything to turn it around and to prevent her from having a bitter aftertaste to their first proper talk.

Yet it was her, once again, that stepped up. She noticed how he got nervous, eyes wandering, shoulders sagging.

“I’ll explain it to you later. When we are not so pressed on time.” She reached out slowly, placing her hand on his arm, squeezing it in reassurance. Y/n smiled at him softly, moving around him to exit the kitchen and prepare for the day ahead.

Without thinking Logan placed a hand over hers, just in time before she pulled hers away. It had her stop in her tracks. Her eyes moved to where his rough callused palm warmed the back of her hand, up to his eyes. He was watching her with intention.

She was nervous. This was either going to be an invitation to finally get to know him or he had enough of her and told her to stop fancying him.

“You can explain it to me on a walk to the lake? Tonight?” He asked, one eyebrow raising in question. His hand squeezed hers gently.

A second of silence followed.

She exhaled, the stress leaving her body but she had to keep her composure. A grin spread across her face “Sounds like a plan.” She held eye contact for a few beats, then let her hand slip out of his hold as she left.

That’s how you do it, Tiger!

Her lips pressed together to keep from smiling too hard as she exited the hallway.

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[corazondebeskar-reads]

could be

Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

this ficlet is brought to you by @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my assigned color was "pretty clicker" (which tbh idk if we needed to include the color but I did anyway lol).

genre: pwp (I tried my best) prompt: "whoa, that's a new one."

words: 1.7k

summary: jackson is not your home. joel miller is not your boyfriend. but they could be.

warnings: pwp, oral (m&f receiving), handjob, fingering, joel and reader are astoundingly bad at emotions, a few playful spanks, tommy makes an off-screen cameo, old man joel my beloved, antics, absolutely no proofreading or beta reading whatsoever rip sorry

dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Whoa, that’s a new one,” drawls the man as he steps out of the shadow of the copse. “ If it ain’t the prettiest little clicker I’ve ever seen.” 

You scowl, tugging the hat off, boot scuffing the dirt as you grind the frustration of being caught out into the soil. It gives with some difficulty, the late autumn’s early frost already turning the ground to stone. “Shut up, Joel,” you mutter. 

“That always work for ya? How haven’t you gotten shot yet?” He says, jerking his head down at the ball cap you’ve adorned with the decapitated clicker’s face.

(Or should you say disembodied? Dessicated? Desecrated? Whatever, you cut the fucking mushrooms off a dead fucker and stuck them on a hat. The terms don’t matter.) 

“Yep. Not too many fools out here who will go looking for a clicker when they hear one.”

“It’s a good impression, darlin’, but it’s not quite enough to trick me.” He’s drawn close, maybe too close, and curls two fingers under your chin, drawing your gaze to his grizzled face. 

You roll your eyes. “You a clicker whisperer or something?” 

His lips curl. “Not quite, no.” He lets his hand fall from your chin, and you watch it go. 

When you look back up at his face, you’re caught. Trapped. His grin is solemn, as if he, too, feels the snare.

“You got somewhere to stay tonight?” he says, instead of acknowledging the way you’ve drawn a breadth closer. 

“Sure do,” you drawl. 

He chuckles. “Alright, keep your secrets. But, uh—my back ain’t what it used to be, so the forest floor ain’t gonna work for me today.”

Your lips curl. “Presumptuous, are we?”

“You’re lookin’ at me like a piece of meat, sweetheart.”

“Well, ain’tcha?”

“Guess you must be desperate, then, ‘f’you’re back for an old man like me.”

“Guess so,” you hum and give in. “How d’you always find me?”

“Hmm, don’t you worry ‘bout that, alright? All you gotta know is that I do always find you, and I’ve got some of Tommy’s peanut butter cookies in my bag for ya.”

“My hero,” you press one hand over your heart while the other makes the universal ‘gimmie’ gesture at his backpack. 

“Could be, y’know,” he mumbles. 

You both ignore the slip. He rifles around in the bag and pulls out a tin. You try to snatch it from him, but he pulls away with a wagging finger. 

“Nope, not yet,” he says with a teasing lilt, his drawl drawing out. He hands you one precious sweet and tucks the rest back into his bag. “If I give it to you now, you’ll just run off, and then what’ll I have?”

“A sense of satisfaction from being kind?”

You share a laugh at your joke as he leads you not to the safe “house” but up to the old, creepy lodge you avoid like the plague. Or. Well. Like the Infected. 

“Calm down, I already cleared it,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “It’s got a real bed, though, sweetheart, so I can take my time with ya.”

“You mean so you don’t break a knee fuckin’ me over a log?”

“It didn’t break. Jesus. How old do you take me for?”

“Old as shit,” you mutter. 

He just grins. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’. You just get brattier the longer you’re away. Ain’t got any good cock back home?”

“Shut up,” you grumble, but it’s close to the truth. There’s cock back home, sure, but then you’d have to fuck one of those losers, and you just know Joel’s ruined you. 

Ruined you with intent and precision, and now he’s taking you by the hand and leading you up into the lodge’s dusty halls and into what must have once been a nice guest room. 

You whistle. “Did you clean this just for me?” You ask, batting your lashes. 

“If I say yes, you gonna be sweet for me?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I was.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he says, lying down on the bed with his hands behind his head. “So get your ass up here.”

You quickly shimmy out of your sweats and climb up to straddle him, but his grin splits wider in a lecherous stretch. 

“You think I brought you here for you to ride me? Y’can do that shit in the woods. Get up here.”

You hesitate. “I live in a fucking camp, Joel.” The “without running water” bit is obvious but unspoken.

“I do not give a shit,” he says bluntly. “Get up here.”

“Your funeral,” you say with a shrug, and let him help you settle over his face. You’re barely steady when he grabs your hips and pulls, bringing you to meet him. 

It’s been… longer than you can even remember, and oh shit. Either your memory hasn’t done this justice, or the last man to eat you out was fuckin’ terrible because this is nothing like you’ve ever known. 

But he doesn’t dive in and rush it. He doesn’t go straight to sucking on your clit; he doesn’t push three fingers into your cunt to work you open for his cock. 

Oh, no. You’ve been had, you think. This setup was an elaborate trap to wipe your mind clean and replace everything with thoughts of him. He’s brought you here to the second closest place of safety he knows so he can take his fuckin’ time with you. 

His hands are gentle on you, and he nuzzles into your mound to part your folds, his wide nose pushing between to seek out his prize. The tip of his tongue pushes out to help, tracing the tiny slit of your cunt. At the first taste of you, he groans, drawn out and filthy. 

“Shit,” he pants, hot breath scattering across the soft peaks and valleys. “It’s been too goddamn long.”  He seems to be talking to himself, which is good because you can’t wrangle more than a tangled gasping whimper in response. 

He brings his hands up underneath you to grip your inner thighs, pulling to spread you more so he can watch you start to glisten. “Atta girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling back in to lap it up. “Mmm, baby, is all this for me?”

“Shoulda known you wouldn’t shut up,” you mutter, even though you’re addicted to his filthy mouth most of the time.

“Shut me up then,” he says in a way you simply cannot refuse. 

You grind down on his face, expecting protest, but he moans in a way you can only classify as slutty. He buries his face between your thighs with a growl and gets to work. 

You can barely hold yourself up after the first orgasm he coaxes from you, all powerful tongue and gentle lips. 

“Y’ain’t quittin’ on me, are ya?” He taunts. 

“I thought you were gonna shut up.” 

He smacks your ass. “Turn around.”

When you do, he pushes you down to lay on him. “Get nice and cozy with my cock, sweetheart, ‘cause I ain’t done with you yet.”

You take the invitation but before you can pull him free from his jeans, he’s diving back into his personal all you can eat buffet and showing no sign of slowing. 

Eventually, you manage to pry his ridiculous monster cock from its denim confines and try, really try, to focus on it, but it’s so hard (you giggle as you tell him) when he keeps doing that thing with his teeth and your clit. After the third time, you find yourself just moaning and drooling around it; you give up and rest your head on his thigh, content to hold it in your hand and lick. 

He spanks you again. “Don’t be a tease.”

You try to protest, but he bests you by attempting to suck your soul out of your clit while hammering two thick fingers against your g-spot, and it’s all over for your brain. Poor thing never stood a chance against Joel anyway. 

You squirm away from the menace when he attempts to keep going and smack him in the face with a pillow when he whines. He wipes his beard on it and throws it back at you. 

You can’t hold back your questions now that you’re back up and running. “How d’you have the time for this?” 

“Hmm?” Joel grunts, a hand tugging lazily at his dick while he surreptitiously slides his hand down the length of your thigh and back up. 

You turn on your back, swatting his hand away. “You’re usually in a rush.”

He turns a little pink. “Don’t matter.”

“Uh, it clearly does. I’m asking.”

“Well, it’s nunya.”

You groan. “Think I liked it better when you were too busy eating me out to talk.”

“Now you know how I feel.”

You throw the cum-stained pillow back at him but miss by an embarrassing overshot. It arcs over him and into the floor between his side of the bed and the wall. 

You shrug. “Gone forever,” you say and throw an arm over your eyes dramatically. 

It’s a good thing, too, since the pillow hits you in the face. 

“I’m on watch here,” he says once you stop screeching indignantly. 

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it,” you let him know solemnly. 

“Ain’t alone. M’brother—Tommy,” he clarifies unnecessarily, “S’here too. He’s got it handled.”

“Oh my god, did you ask your brother to cover for you so you could get laid?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

“Aw, Miller. You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you drawl. 

He plays it off with another eye roll and scoffs, but the thing is—you know. He stopped asking you to think about moving to Jackson a long time ago. But slowly, he’s been taking you closer and closer to town when you meet up. 

And you’re pretty sure he’s using Tommy’s cookies as a reward. Each time he lures you closer, he brings more treats the next time. You’d be mad at the absolute gall, but… it’s not not working, so you only have yourself to blame.

When you catch his eye again, he makes a point to hold your gaze and draw it down to his leaking cock, and you know he knows. You won’t go with him, so he’ll have you here. Jackson is not your home. But that quiet drawl in your head that sounds unnervingly similar to the man sprawled before you whispers, it could be.

[holylulusworld]

Pour me some love (1) - Flufftober 13

Summary: He always ends up in your roadhouse.

Pairing: Biker!Dean Winchester x Plussized!Reader

Trope: Love at First Sight

Warnings: flirty Dean, shy/low self-esteem, fluff

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2024

Life is slow out here. You’re used to it. Years of spending your time after school at your dad’s bar taught you two things. Men can be the worst, and alcohol is not for you.

After your dad retired, his partner Ellen Harvelle took over the business. She was kind enough to offer you to stay and work for her. In the back to take care of the finances, and in the front to help her with the thirsty crowd.

Most of your guests at the roadhouse are regulars. The usual drunk, the businessmen wanting to drown their sorrows in booze, and the lonely hearts seeking company. But sometimes you get lucky and a stranded traveler or someone catching your attention ends up in your bar.

Just like tonight. He’s back, with company: Dean Winchester, your dream man on bowed legs.

You sigh watching him step inside the bar. He straightens his tousled hair as the single ladies in the bar crane their necks. You rarely get the chance to look at men like the Winchesters and their friends.

Bikers. Rough around the edges, a little cocky, and so damn handsome.

You know little to nothing about them. What you know is that John Winchester, leader of the Purgatory biker club, is Dean and Sam’s father.

Sam, the younger brother, has a girl in tow. His girlfriend Ruby. She glares at the woman at the bar, marking her property by wrapping her arms around Sam’s neck to kiss him fiercely.

They make out for a moment before John clears his throat. He came here for drinks and a cheap bed, not to watch his son fuck Ruby with his tongue. “Sammy, get your shit together,” he grits out before walking toward the table he always occupies when he’s around.

He nods at Ellen, who already carries his favorite poison toward the table, along with enough glasses for his friends.

“Welcome back, John,” Ellen says. “No fights. No swear words. No smoking at my place, Winchester.”

John smirks. “I wouldn’t dare cause trouble at your place, Ellen.” She huffs and turns toward the bar to nod at you. You’ve got your hands full with the other guests, but the biker club tips well.

“Hello sweetheart,” Dean, the elder brother, claims the only free seat at the bar counter. “What can you recommend today?” He licks his sinfully plump lips, eyes glued to your chest. “What’s on the menu tonight?”

“We’re not a diner, Dean,” you tease, and slap his chest with the dishtowel in your hand. “We’ve got peanuts, beer, booze, and bad music blaring from the centuries-old music box.”

Dean grins now. He loves that you do not shy away from him any longer. In the beginning, when he first came to the bar, you barely got a word out when he tried to chat you up.

His constant flirting and charming personality changed your mind about bikers and men in general. You slowly warmed up to Dean, and now you fear he owns your heart.

Sadly, you’ve got no clue if he feels the same or if he’s just friendly to every woman. Dean is a natural flirt, and you fear; he only tries to make you feel better. Because most of the guys coming to the bar rather flirt with Jo or the other pretty and petite waitresses.

“Hey, if you stare at Y/N as if she’s on the menu, you’ll pay for her too,” Jo slams her hand onto the bar counter. She grins as Dean’s cheeks redden.

“I was asking about the special tonight,” Dean grumbles under his breath. Another missed chance to talk to you without someone ruining it.

“Babe,” Jo whispers in your ear, “don’t make it easy for him. Make him beg for it. You’re too good for a one-night stand.”

“He wouldn't... he didn’t,” you splutter, catching Dean’s attention. He watches you nervously tug at the Zeppelin shirt you found in a drift shop. You bought it because you remember he told you about his weakness for classic rock.

“I got an eye on you, Winchester,” Jo glares at Dean. “One wrong move, and you end up spitting blood, mister.”

“Jo!” You tut.

She snickers before walking off. Jo met lots of bikers in her life. None of them meant what they promised a girl. She learned the hard way what heartbreak means.

“So... uh, any food tonight?” Dean hopefully asks. Last time he came around, you offered the rest of your homemade lasagna to him. He inhaled the food.

“I got some pie left.” You barely get the words out before he grabs your hand, holding it in his. “What?”

“Pie? I love me some pie,” Dean exclaims before leaning over the bar counter. “I swear, if your pie is as sweet as you, I’m going to marry you.”

You harrumph and wiggle out of his grip. “What are you doing, Dean?” You sniffle. “Listen, I know you’re a natural flirt, but stop pretending you like me or shit. That’s not fair, you know. A man like you shouldn’t give a girl like me hope.”

You throw the dishtowel at him before storming out of the bar to get fresh air.

“WINCHESTER!” Jo growls. She jumps over the bar counter to get the baseball bat she hides there in case one of the guests gets a little too cocky.

“I didn’t do a thing!” Dean gets off his seat to run after you. “Sonofabitch!”

“I hope so!” Jo yells after him, earning a chuckle from the rest of the biker gang. They all know Dean has a big crush on you.

“Sweetheart wait! Wait up!” Dean chases after you. He wheezes when you finally stop and wait for him to catch up with you. “I—phew.” He huffs. “I didn’t know running is so exhausting.”

“Dean, what do you want? Is this all a game to you?” You wipe your eyes. “Because it’s not funny to flirt with a girl you’re not interested in.”

“Y/N,” he grabs your upper arms, still panting. “Shit, give me a sec, baby. I—fuck. My sides hurt, and my lungs feel like I ran a marathon.”

You giggle as he tries to catch his breath. “I would never make fun of you,” he squeezes your arms before dropping his hands. Dean cups your face instead, looking you deep in the eyes. “Sweetheart, I fell in love with you the moment I stepped into the bar for the first time. I just didn’t know how to ask you on a date.”

“What? I—what?” You believe you misheard. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m damn serious, sweetheart,” Dean says and jerks his head toward a black classic muscle car parked in front of the bar. “I came with my Baby, not my bike, tonight to ask you to go for a ride with me.”

Oh, he grins with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m not a girl for one night.” You pout and sniff.

“Sweetheart,” he leans closer to murmur your name. “Do you believe I’m the kind of guy going for a wild ride with the girl he loves only once?”

You shake your head.

“Good,” he nods. “Now, let me kiss my girl. And then I’ll take her for a romantic ride in my car.

Read more here: Pour me some love (2)

[broidobe]

𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔟

requested!

☾a shy and skeptical bill bailey (pre-fame axl rose) finds unexpected kindness and connection when a girl sits with him in the cafeteria, sharing her lunch and breaking through his guarded exterior.☽

☾warnings: mentions of bullying, social isolation, and mild language☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

the hum of the school cafeteria buzzed like a hive, full of voices overlapping, laughter spilling from crowded tables, and the occasional scrape of plastic trays against formica. among the chaos, one table sat starkly empty, save for one figure hunched over his lunch.

bill bailey sat with his shoulders rounded and his red hair curtaining his face. he picked at a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, occasionally glancing up through his bangs to check if anyone was watching. his old leather jacket, a little too big for his wiry frame, creaked softly as he moved.

you noticed him from your spot a few tables away. while the rest of the cafeteria seemed animated—friends gossiping, couples sharing fries—bill’s loneliness stood out like a sore thumb. he always sat alone. you’d seen him get shoved into lockers a few times, heard the names people threw his way: “freak,” “redneck,” and worse.

today, though, something made you stand. grabbing your lunch tray, you wove through the tables and made your way toward him.

he looked up as you approached, his green eyes wide with suspicion. “uh… what do you want?” he asked, his voice quiet but sharp enough to put up a barrier.

you smiled gently and set your tray down across from him. “just thought i’d sit with you. is that okay?”

his gaze darted to the other tables, where a few kids had started whispering and pointing. he huffed and looked back down at his sandwich. “you don’t have to. i’m fine by myself.”

“well, i’ve got an extra apple,” you said, pulling it from your tray and rolling it across the table toward him. “figured you might want it.”

bill stared at the apple like it might bite him. “why are you being nice to me?”

you shrugged. “because i want to be. do i need a reason?”

he squinted at you, as if trying to decide whether you were messing with him. when he didn’t immediately shove the apple back, you smiled and unwrapped your sandwich.

the silence stretched for a moment before you spoke again. “so, do you like pb&j, or is it just survival food?”

he blinked, caught off guard by the casual question. “uh, i guess i like it. cheap and easy, y’know?”

you nodded, taking a bite of your sandwich. “can’t argue with that. but if you had to pick your favorite food, what would it be?”

bill hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sandwich. “i dunno… maybe spaghetti. my mom used to make it a lot.”

“that’s a good choice,” you said, smiling. “i make a pretty mean spaghetti, too. secret ingredient: a pinch of cinnamon in the sauce.”

“cinnamon?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting. “that’s… weird.”

“it’s good, i promise!” you laughed. “i’ll make it for you sometime, and you’ll see.”

bill’s face softened at the idea, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “maybe.”

as the two of you talked, the tension in his shoulders eased. he opened up bit by bit, telling you about the music he liked—bands like led zeppelin and queen—and how he wanted to learn piano but didn’t have one at home. you shared your own favorite bands, and before long, you were laughing together over the ridiculous outfits freddie mercury used to wear on stage.

when the lunch period was nearly over, bill leaned back in his chair, his sandwich mostly eaten and the apple now resting in his hand. “you’re not like the others,” he said, his tone quieter now, almost shy.

you tilted your head. “is that a good thing?”

“yeah,” he said after a moment, a genuine smile breaking across his face. “it is.”

the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and you stood to gather your tray. “see you tomorrow?” you asked, hopeful.

bill nodded, the apple still in his hand. “yeah. thanks… for sitting with me.”

you flashed him a smile. “anytime, bill.”

as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back. he was still sitting there, turning the apple over in his hands with a small, thoughtful smile on his face. for the first time in a long time, he didn’t look quite so alone.

[slamminslamminmcgill]

mm finally watched deadpool and wolverine today, and my god... 🥵 so many thoughts...

Idek which ones to put here. What do you think a p*ss kink would look like with both of them? Or just more of them making reader squirt their brains out.

The dialogue you write between them sounds so natural. Like I can literally read it in their voice. -🐮

LFGGGG thank y’all for giving me an excuse to talk abt this 🙏 i got more ideas but this post would’ve been WAYYYY too long sooo be on the lookout for more debauchery

warning: piss, anal, dp, dubcon, light degradation/humiliation, intox (alcohol for logan)

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

as with most of the fucked up kinks y'all try in this polycule, it happens spontaneously the first time.

logan had just finished inside your ass, and out of the three of you, it takes him the longest to cum. it also takes a lot out of him. he roars and jams his claws through wade's temples (whoopsie! that's why your bed has red vinyl sheets hehe) so there's a dramatic break in the action afterwards.

"ah... hah... ngh, fuck..." he's panting, heaving almost, and slides out of your now gaping hole, "fuck, that was good..." he retracts his claws from wade’s skull, then purrs in your ear and smooches your neck, "good job, kid."

wade, still hard as steel in your cunt, claps excitedly for him. "yay! good job, YOU, peanut! UGH, i love watching you fill him up. you get so... beastly~."

you giggle, nuzzling into wade's tits, feeling goofy and content. a warm load up one hole, and a thick cock up the other.

logan smiles, kissing you on the back of your head this time. “you gonna be okay alone with him for a sec? i gotta go piss.”

"mhm!"

"'kay. i'll be right back, pumpkin." another kiss to your neck, and he's off, walking flaccidly to the bathroom, shaking his fuzzy cheeks.

you drop your head back down against wade’s chest and sigh, "i gotta piss too, actually."

"oh, yeah, yes you do, mister!" deadpool pats you on your shoulders, "always make sure to pee before, during, and after sex!"

you absentmindedly chuckle, until you realize what it is he just said, “wait… during?!"

"hey! thou shalt not knock what thou hast not tried!i know it sounds icky, but hear me out."

he thrusts upwards into you sharply

“fuck!!!”

“so! i want you to imagine…” *THRUST* “how good it’d feel…” *THRUST* “to be really filled up.” *THRUST* “and i mean FULL!” *THRUST* “like your pussy is a searing hot water balloon about to explode. and then when it does?” *THRUST* “when it all comes flooding out of you? oh darling, the relief…” he moans dramatically, gripping your hips and shifting you back and forth on his shaft, “hottest thing you’ll ever experience, i swear. there’s nothing else like it… wanna try it?”

you’re skeptical, but wade wilson is a hell of a salesman. “…fuck it. let’s do it.”

“yippee!!! okay, just gotta get soft so i can piss. dead kittens… calculus homework… grandma deadpool! there we go! okay… phew… here goes…”

it’s a tense, awkward silence as he starts. you’re not sure what to expect. then, you begin to feel it. that searing heat swelling inside you, pooling between his cock and your skin, flooding what little space there was inside you. you gasp, and attempt to squirm to cope with the sensation, but wade holds you still.

“don’t move! don’t move, my little urinal boy! mmm, i gotcha, just… just trust me on this… i’m almost done…”

“you two are fucking disgusting.”

logan’s voice coming out of nowhere makes you jump, and then wade’s piss spills out of you. and just like he told you, it feels fucking incredible. you’re twitching, spasming, moaning pure nonsense as wade fucks your drenched, desecrated cunt. loud splashing accompanies the brutal pace of his hips.

“your loss, peanut! imagine wasting your piss on the bathroom toilet when you could’ve given it to this even cuter toilet!” he pecks you on the cheek with a loud “mwah~!”

from then on, it becomes you and wade peeing on each other just to mess with him. since he’s never told y’all to stop, you both figure that he likes it, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it.

the three of y’all are showering together

“so, just asking as a throuple here, are we all pro- or anti-peeing in the shower?”

“if you get piss on me, i’ll stick my claws through your fucking corneas.”

“promise?!”

”don’t. you fucking. dare.”

“aw, boo, you’re no fun.” wade pouts, then grabs you by your wet hair and pulls your ear towards his lips. “you, though… you’re TONS of fun.” he playfully bites your ear, and then your neck. “so fun, in fact, that you’re gonna get on your knees and drink every drop of piss that i give you, right?”

i feel like the only time y’all can get logan to participate is while he’s drunk. he’s too sloshed to feel shame for it.

maybe y’all are in bed together, all cuddled up in a tangled mess of limbs, and he grumbles something about needing to take a leak.

“oh, don’t worry about getting up, honey-bun!” wade fishes under the blankets for logan’s soft cock, “lemme take care of that for you.”

“wh… the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“ugh please, don’t act like you haven’t thought about pissing down my throat. can’t i just once do something nice for you?”

he grumbles, not wanting to indulge wade, but not wanting to get up even more.“fine. whatever. i hope you choke on it.”

“oh, i will.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

my girl 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your brother's friend from work starts hanging out a lot more often. (short!reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

The curtains stir in the summer breeze, the smell of pollen wafting in and tickling your nose. You scrunch your face, resisting as sneeze and flip the page of the book, your eyes racing across the letters, devouring them. After another year of academia, you’re all too eager to spend your summer devouring your ‘to read’ list. 

The flick of pages marks the passage of time. You don’t sense how the sky sifts from a beaming yellow to a gentle blue. Not until the knock comes at the door and draws you from the world built of prose. You blink and lift your head, mark your page and leave it on your pillow. You push yourself across the low bed and yawn. Only as you don’t have words to read do you feel the fatigue in your eyes. 

“Peanut,” your mother calls you by the childhood nickname you can’t seem to shake, “gonna help with dinner?” 

You open the door to her and step out, “yeah, should do something.” 

“You should,” she chides playfully. “I already got the roast beef in, just need you to do sides.” 

“Great,” you shuffle down the hall behind her and rub your eyes. You don’t know if it’s allergies or reading that has you so dried out. 

Downstairs, you go into the kitchen and the aroma of the roast has your mouth watering already. In your delve into the land of fantasy, you may have forgotten to feed yourself. It’s not an uncommon occurrence; during the school year, you often studied until your head pounded and your stomach roared. The human body tends only to get in the way of the mind. 

You work at peeling potatoes as your mom takes out a medley of vegetables to put in a roasting pan. She seasons as you chop, the low murmur of her outdated music filling the hazy summer air. You can hear the children next door running around and the bristle of trees swaying in the wind. 

“Oh, make sure to throw in a few extra, pea,” she says as you go to curl over the top of the bag, “your brother’s bringing his friend.” 

“Friend? Johnny?” You wonder. 

“That man from his work, Syverson,” she corrects, “with the beard.” 

“Uh yeah, I remember.” 

You’ve met Syverson, or Sy as he prefers. Your brother, Isaac, started his apprenticeship last summer with the man down at the metal shop. There are vague instances in your mind when you recall the large bearded man sitting at the table across from you. He’s older than your brother, you too. Probably closer to your parent’s age. He doesn’t say much either but he’s polite. You think. 

You shrug and pull out some more potatoes to add to peel and cut. You do so quietly, your mind wandering back to your book even as the real world threatens to wipe it away. You’re so swept up in the fraught quest to reclaim a forgotten world that you can hardly focus on the blade. 

You blink as the knife hits the board, too close to your thumb. Pay attention. Often your mom comments that you look far away and just as often you are. Existing in this world can be so boring. Potatoes and roast beef. 

You rinse off the spuds and put them on to boil. You’ll mash them like you always do and add your mother’s ‘secret’ ingredient; herb and cheese sour cream. You’re pretty sure every mother on the block claims that as their little revolution. 

As the water starts to steam, you hear a car pull up and a louder engine behind it. Your mom checks the beef, letting out a gust of savoury air. You are starving. 

As you toss the peels in the bin, the front door opens. Isaac’s voice carries through the house as he chatters on about sparks and some work thing. Your mom’s head pops up as she waits eager for his appearance. 

He peeks into the kitchen as a pair of footsteps follow behind him. You mom greets him with a kiss, “hello, bubby, how was your day?” 

“Mom,” he scowls and wipes his cheek, “it was fine. Burnt myself pretty good.” 

He shows a bandage on his forearm and shrugs. Your mother gasp, “oh, honey!” 

“Told him to put his gauntlets on,” Syverson stands just beyond the doorway, his shadow looming like an evil orc in a cavern, waiting to pounce. You shake off the comparison as he comes into the light of the kitchen, a case of beer in hand. “Brought something for dinner,” he puts down the six-pack and shifts as you notice the red cap and label poking out from under his arm. He catches the bottle before it can slip and presents it to your mother, “and for the ladies.” 

“Oh, Syverson, you’re always so sweet.” 

“Mm, least I can do, y’all having me, feeding me,” he reaches to rub his neck. “Mind if I use the bathroom? Gotta wash my hands.” 

“Course, dear, you know where it is,” she preens. 

He leans on his back foot and his eyes glint in your direction. Despite his gruff exterior, his shaved head and thick beard, and his work-stained tee shirt, his eyes seem to sparkle, “evening,” he nods in your direction, as if he’s only just noticed you. 

“Hi,” you murmur and turn back to wash the starch from the cutting board. 

Having company is always awkward. You’re the only member of your family who isn’t very social. You have your classmates and a few friends you’ll hang out with on occasion but your parents and your brother always seem to have someone with them. If it isn’t one of your mom’s HOA accomplices, it’s one of your dad’s neighbourhood buddies arguing over the barbecue. 

You continue to tidy up as you wait for the food to be ready. You take out some plates and cutlery, wanting to distract yourself by setting the table. You stack the plates and the utensil slides around on top as you carry them into the hallway. You have to stop short as you nearly collide with Sy.  

“Sorry,” he apologises and backs up, “need help?” 

He points to your armful and you smile and shake your head, “all good.” 

“Don’t mind,” he says as he puts his large hands around the stack of plates. They’re pretty thick and heavy on their own but he takes them from you easily. 

“Um, right, then I’ll get... cups.” 

You turn back and flit into the kitchen. Your mom hums as she strains the potatoes. She doesn’t notice you counting glasses from the cupboard and balancing them all in your arms. You go down the hall, this time without obstacle, and into the dining room. You angle awkwardly to put down all the glasses at once.  

Sy lays out the plates and cutlery one at a time, certain to have each perfectly centered and straight. He focuses on the task intently. The sight of his earnest effort contrasted by his burly figure is almost silly. You plunk down the glasses at the corner of each plate, staying on the other side of the table from him. 

“Your back from school,” he says as he finishes, stepping back to cross his arms, making himself even larger. Most people are big compared to you. 

“Mhmm,” you nod with a rigid tight-lipped grin. 

“You graduate?” He asks. 

You try not to show your surprise. You’re not sure you’ve ever had a conversation with him. It’s just nods and grunts sent in your direction. Just acknowledgement. Just courtesy. 

“One more year,” you say, “erm, I’ll go help mom.” 

“Right,” he drops his arms and grips the back of the chair in front of him, “don’t let me keep ya.” 

You inch backwards and spin around, trying not to run away. It isn’t him. It’s you. It’s easier to read dialogue on a page and pretend it’s coming from your lips than it is to hold a conversation in real life. You would rather go back and finish your chapter then sit at the table and eat with your family, especially now that you’ve made it awkward. 

[wosostories]

Heath Sisters PT 2 (USWNT x Teen!Reader)

Masterlist

USWNT X Teen!Reader

Tobin and Y/N make it to camp.

This is a Reader story with Y/N, but I wrote it in third person because that made more sense in my head.

Part 2

“Where are they? I swear if we miss lunch because of these two I’m going to be so mad.”

“Calm down Kelley I’m sure that they just hit a snag and got caught up with something. Coach checked and according to the notice that she got, they got on the plane.”

“I know, but I’m hungry.”

“You are always hungry.” Ali looks back towards the exit to the luggage claim where the sisters would be exiting from. She spots two girls, one of which is pointing them out to the other. “I think that’s them.”

Kelley’s head shoots in the direction that Ali is looking and starts bouncing on the balls of her feet as the sisters make their way over. 

“Hi my name is Tobin and this is my little sister Y/N. 

“H-Hi.”

“Nice to meet you both. I’m Ali and this is Kelley. We are your ride to the hotel.” She glances down and notices that they only have a couple of backpacks and one small bag between the two of them. “Do you have all of your things?” Y/N’s gaze immediately finds her feet while Tobin shifts uncomfortably. 

“Ya, about that. They lost Y/N’s bag and sent it to Florida. They are just sending it back to New Jersey because it won’t get back here before we leave.”

“Wow. Do we need to stop anywhere before we head back to the hotel? The mall? Target?”

“No, we need to get back to the hotel. We don’t want to miss lunch.” Y/N's head shot up at the mention of food. 

“That's ok we can pick something up.”

“No, it’s fine. We can worry about it later. I know that we are already running late.”

“If you're sure. I just want to make sure you have the time before we get too busy.”

“No yeah it’s fine. I’ll get it all figured out.” 

Ali nods and they all head out to the car. Kelley drives them all to the hotel. Jill is waiting for them in the lobby as they make their way inside. 

“Hello! I’m coach Ellis. Tobin it’s nice to see you again, and you must be Y/N.” She nods her head and subtly grabs the back of Tobin’s shirt. “Why don’t you guys head to the meal room? There is still about 15 minutes left of lunch, then I’ll give you your room key and you’ll both have some time to settle in. First team meeting isn’t until after dinner." She leaves them to go grab lunch while they still have time. The group of four make their way into the room and find a table pretty easily since everyone else already ate. Lunch was benign served buffet style with chicken sandwiches and veggie burgers being the main course. 

“You’ll have to be one of the first ones here to get the good stuff, but even this won’t be bad.” Kelley informs them. 

Tobin leads her sister over to the food and helps her make a plate of a chicken sandwich and a salad. Tobin makes an identical plate and they start to dig in as soon as they sit down. 

“You think that you hadn’t eaten all day with the way you two are eating.” Kelley teases, Ali slaps her arm and shakes her head to tell her to knock it off. 

“We were running late and didn’t have time for breakfast so we haven’t.” Tobin’s lie rolls right off her tongue in response to the observation. She had been doing it long enough to cover up their money problems that she no longer has to think about it. 

“What about snacks on the plane?”

“They only had peanuts and Y/N’s allergic.”

The two of them are so distracted by the food in front of them that they don’t notice Ali observing them between bites of her own lunch. When they finish they find Jill to get their room keys and head up to settle in. 

“What are we going to do about clothes?” Y/N asks softly.

Tobin lets out a sigh, “I’m not sure? We don’t have the money to get you new clothes.” She sighs again, “I’m sorry Y/N. You’ll have to wear your soccer gear and some of my stuff while we’re here. It’ll be too big, but it’s better than nothing.” Y/N nods and walks over to her sister. 

“It’s not your fault. It’ll be ok. It always is.” Y/N hugs her sister and pulls her down on the bed. 

“Nap time?”

“Nap time.”

Part 3

[thechaoticcherub]

Tw: incest, dddne

👼🏼Dad!Joel wearing those glasses, pouring over maps when you come in feeling scared of the thunderstorms that have settled over Jackson

👼🏼Dad!Joel looking over at you, “What’s wrong, peanut?”

👼🏼You’re hesitant to admit it, Joel seems so calm about everything and you’re worried he’ll think you’re silly.

👼🏼Dad!Joel sensing your trepidation and holding his hand out to you. You step forward and take his hand, his big fingers curl around your hand.

👼🏼 “You can tell your Daddy.” He breathes as he pulls you down to sit on his lap like you used to when you were a little girl.

👼🏼 Dad!Joel putting his hands on your hips, pulling you back into him to help you get settled. You can feel him, his hardness, digging into your ass.

👼🏼You immediately want to press yourself into him more. You’re also instantly comforted by his presence under you. “Just…dont like the storms, Dad.”

👼🏼 Dad!Joel leaning into you and pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “nothin’ to be scared of, peanut. Your old man is here,”

👼🏼 You turn your head to look at him better, “I’m diggin’ the spectacles, pops.” You giggle. You feel your father press his hips up and it’s making it harder to stop from grinding yourself back into him.

👼🏼 “You like em?” He could be just adjusting you on his lap, he could be pressing his leg between yours on accident but you’re pretty sure he’s doing it cause he knows you like it.

👼🏼You finally let yourself press yourself down feeling his leg propped up, rubbing into your crotch and his increasingly hard cock against your ass.

👼🏼Dad!Joel knowing exactly what you’re doing, especially as you squeak out agreement to his question.

👼🏼Dad!Joel’s face softening and then turning to a teasing smirk “I can distract ya from the storm, babygirl, if ya want me to.” He breathes into your ear

👼🏼Your whole body shudders, he knows how to talk to you. He knows how to hold you because he just knows you, better than anyone.

👼🏼 “Dad,” your vague protests are barely anything at all while you rock your hips forward to gently, slowly, rub your increasingly wet pussy against the leg of Joel’s jeans

👼🏼 “I know, babygirl, storms have always scared ya,” Joel’s hands guide your hips and he rocks you forward and back.

👼🏼 “i’m-i’m not…sposed to be scared anymore. I’m an adult” your words practically break off while he juts his hips up more and his cock is impossible to ignore, buried between your ass cheeks, straining at his jeans

👼🏼 “None of that, peanut. You’ll always be my babygirl. Now let daddy take care of it.” He instructs and you watch as he removes the stupid glasses and drops them on his desk.