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#but in his mind it's more of a ' to beat a monster you have to become one '
bitchimasnake-sss · 2 days
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Imagine telling op guys who has a crush on you, that you want to sleep with them. You just plop down next to them cuddle into them and fall asleep. It's just hem turning red and trying to calm down their thoughts
hehe, this is legit so cute. (tweaked the prompt to be a little more suggestive than just thoughts in the end.)
not a dream ft. the monster trio!
set-up: as anon asked! you happened to utter five simple words, "can i sleep with you?" to the op boys (who have a crush crush on you). now these idiots are contemplating if they'd make it out alive.
warnings: includes nsfw thoughts!! no actual things happen but the guys are thinking very very perverted shit, so, if not comfortable please skip!!!
luffy:
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💗 you know luffy. do you think luffy— the guy who clings to everyone, doesn't know the word "personal" and "space", who will probably hug you even if you threatened to punch him— will really mind if you told him you wanted to sleep with him? fuck no. even if you stood in front of him with a "i like you, i wanna sleep with you" in a suggestive way, he would say something along the lines of "awh, i like you too. let's sleep."
💗 but well, this was different. cause he liked you. so when you decided to show up at his door after dinner with a cranky look, he was both confused and intrigued. "what's wrong with ya?" he mumbled as you sat next to him on the bed. "chopper and ussop. ugghhh." you groaned, "they're doing some stupid shit next door and making so much noise. there is no possible way i can sleep there. and im sure nobody else will let me crash with them tonight in their room." luffy would have probably leapt up and gone to join the other two fools had you not sprawled out next to him. you gave him a tired smile, "so, can i sleep with you?" 💗you hadn't even waited for an answer. mindlessly, you draped a hand over his torso and snuggled into his chest. he pulled you towards himself on instinct. this was normal. yeah. hugging a crewate. yeah. totally normal. atleast for him. then why was his heart beating so fast? mouth going dry? why was sweat clinging uncomfortably to his back although he knew the night air was frigid. 💗you shifted and your chest brushed against his. luffy swallowed wantonly as you shifted again. and then one more time. trying to find the most comfortable position, he guessed. mechanically, you pushed yourself further against him. and this motherfucker went as stiff as a washboard. "luffy?" you mumbled against his skin before tracing your eyes upward. from this position, your doe-eyes bore into his, "you don't mind right? it's just really cold, sorry." how could he mind? your soft body was against his. your fingers drummed faint melodies against his back and your hair smelled like some floral scented shampoo. every time you breathed out, the warm air caressed him and goosebumps painted his hands. he felt your peaked chest brush against his again and he almost swallowed his own tongue. "luffy?" you asked again, your voice saccharine. and he vaguely wondered how would the same voice sound if he tore open that flimsy top your were wearing and held your soft skin against his palm. or if he took the courage enough to dip his fingers below the waistband of your pajamas and felt you up. would you say his name like that? 💗 well, fuck. this was the captain had thought so much in his entire life. and it was thoughts about feeling up his crewmate's tits. and as a result of such vigorous thinking, a problem had arose in his pants. he tried to think it away. tried thinking about sea-kings or hideous devil-fruit users. of alvida. or anyone else. he even tried to think of food so that his attention could be diverted. but even the most tastiest of sanji's pudding couldn't take away the throbbing in his cock. and the delicious feeling of your soft skin next to his. as a last resort, he prayed that you wouldn't shift more and feel his dick against you. he prayed you would take his silence as rejection and simply drift off to sleep. but ofcourse, this is a godless land. because you moved again. and when you felt his hand-on against your thigh, you looked up at him. lips caught between your teeth, you looked up at him. blinking up at him almost innocently, you asked, "got a problem, captain?" before he could answer, you pressed forward, "i think i can fix it." on the other side of the ship nami burst into chopper and ussop's room. when she yelled, it probably could be heard over the entire ship, "LET US SLEEP, YOU MORONS. WE HAVE A LONG DAY TOMORROW. GO SLEEP OR I'LL FINE YOU BOTH A MILLION BERRIES PER MINUTE THAT YOU'RE UP." you're not sure if it was chopper or ussop crying in the distance. but oh well, good for you that ussop and chopper are such morons.
zoro:
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💚zoro's not even fucking sure how he ended up like this. he's sure it involved some higher-than-tolerable level of alcohol for both the parties involved. and he's sure it must have been your idea that he had drunkenly complied with. "let's sleep together" "okay" what was he thinking? because right now, you were sprawled against his chest. both of you were on his bed. his shirt was off, yours was barely on. a bit of drool peaked out from the corner of your lips. and he found himself quietly rubbing it away with the pad of his thumb, smiling softly to himself. ew?! was he still drunk?? as the realization set in, he pulled his hands back in wicked horror and looked around as if someone had seen him. it was still night. and in the middle of the night, the effects of the cheap booze must have wore off of him and he awoke to you as his bed. on him. 💚"hey." he tried to shake you awake but you just groaned, sinking further into him. he hissed when you buried your face against his bare skin. he whisper-shouted, ignoring the goosebumps on both of your skins, "wake up. go back to your own room, woman." but you didn't shift an inch. instead, you stayed buried against him. 💚he groaned but when his eyes fell back to your face, he couldn't help but fight off the impending blush that crawled up his face. your hair was a mess and your cheek was squished against his chest. you breathed softly and sometimes, your fingers twitched against his skin and you touched him fleetingly. and you were warm. too warm for his liking. he tried to look away but his hand carefully came up to your face. staying there not a moment too long, he dragged it downwards. over your shoulders and over your back. he stopped before he went too far and grabbed your ass, the curve so delicious in his eyes. but he stopped, pulling his hands back to lay on the linen sheets. he was a horny man, not an evil douche. 💚but you must have been hell-bent in proving flaws in his moral-code, because you shifted and your pelvis shifted over his. he bit back a grunt at the movement over the fabric. you were so cozy against him. the way you brushed up against him, the way your hair tickled him. would you like it if he pulled your hair? would you moan? god, what would you sound if you moaned out his name? he was a bad man. thinking all of those things. and he tried to focus on anything but the blood-rush to his dick, really. but the way you started moving against him, almost mechanically. that made all attempts to ignore his boner disappear. his hips moved upwards and he closed his eyes, giving into the friction of you against him. and soft moans fell from his lips. 💚"zoro?" you mumbled sleepily, rubbing your eye. you strained your neck up and he looked down at you, dazed. "you okay, zo?" when he found himself unable to talk and you found a harsh roll of hips under you, you connected the dots. a playful smile tugged on your lips, "need some help?" "no." "fine." you shrugged, clamoring off him, "i should go back to my room. the crew will freak out if they find us like this." "no." he caught your wrist, tugging you towards him, "stay. i could use some help." 💚in the morning, sanji walked into the swordman's room to see if the moron could find you somewhere. since you were nowhere to be found on the ship. what he found, instead, was you and him tangled in the sheets. when you and zoro had finally made it to the breakfast table, sanji may/may not have been crying. luffy, ussop and chopper were laughing in the background. nami decided it was a good enough reason to even high-fived zoro. it was an awkward breakfast.
sanji:
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💙sanji was probably in heaven. yes, that's the only explanation. sure, the ship was en route to alabasta but he was on his way to heaven. because there's no way you had come seeking him out in the middle of the night. you had said, "i can't sleep." "oh?" the cook had wordlessly stepped aside and you took on the opportunity to slip in. he shut the door behind you, "can i help you then, love? want me to cook something?" "i would have really not bothered you but i don't know who else to ask. nami and vivi are sleeping together and the bed's not big for the three of us." you rambled, "and zoro probably showered five months ago. and luffy, ussop and chopper are passed out in the common room. so... can i sleep with you?" it's a miracle he didn't pass out on hearing those words. it's an even bigger miracle that that was three hours ago and he had still not passed out. now, sanji lay next to you— as stiff as a corpse— while you snored. 💙your body shifted and your hands reached out towards sanji. your palm ran up and down his torso as to check if he was there. and once you had gotten a confirmation, you scooted in his direction and sanji held his breath as if one wayward puff of air will wake you up. vinsmoke sanji was trying. he was trying o maintain his composure, to not pull you into his chest. he was trying not to think about the way your chest will feel against his, the way his fingers will glide over your thighs, the way your hand will fit around his dic— 💙and it was as if you could hear his wretched thoughts. because your hands moved over his torso. gliding up and down. you leaned into his touch, molding your body against his. you might have been having an interesting dream cause he saw your hips gently rocking, your thighs pressed harder and you eyes clenched shut. you buried your head into his chest and the smell of your shampoo seemed to turn him on more. he ignored his weeping dick, decided to pay it no mind. but all of that resolve crumbled when he heard you moan his name into the fabric across his chest. your nails dug into his shoulders and your nose buried as deeply as it could against his skin. 💙 he gently guided his fingers to your thighs. and you shook under his soft touches. his thumb softly brushed over your clothed pussy and bucked towards his hand. he could probably just feel you up and you'd let him— "—shit." sanji quickly brought his hand back, realizing that you were sleeping and out of it. even if your lips chanted his name, he couldn't do the things his mind was convincing him to do. because if he started, he wouldn't stop. 💙so, to get himself rid of such sinful thoughts, he decided to hide in the shower and pump at his hard cock till he was tired. till you crawled out of his head. till your voice stopped ringing in his ears, making his cock impossibly harder. he slowly pushed you away, trying to climb off the bed. but as soon as you felt his warmth disappear, you cracked open an eye, "sanji?" "uh" his face went red, eyes averting, "just going to the washroom. i'd be back." you sat up, "did i go too far?" 💙sanji's mouth hung agape as you pulled him back into bed, "i thought you wanted me to moan your name like that—" "—wh-what?" "i had a dream." you innocently traced your index nail down his torso and brushed it over his sleeping shorts, "think you can help me?" you blinked up at him, "pretty please." 💙 the next morning, the cook of the crew made the worst breakfast possible. wasn't his fault. all he could think about was you and your breathless moans and your eyes as— "this tastes like shit." the swordman argued. "thEN MAKE IT YOURSELF, FREELOADER." "might as well if you're gonna cook so bad." "—i think it tastes fine." nami sighed, "if i knew you getting some would make you a terrible cook, i would have let (yn) sleep with me and vivi." and the entire ship choked on their (terrible) breakfast.
a/n: i tweaked the prompt a bit (as i was getting stuck with the original ask), but i hope this was good enough anon!! as always, thanks for reading and send in req that you might have <3 (tagging: @bokutosbiceps cause i know you love luffy)
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wrr000 · 21 hours
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"Can you be quiet for five minutes?"
AN: hello! i wrote this for fun, it's nothing serious or special, i just needed to do something with myself. hope y'all will enjoy it anyway lol (also, i had that one scene from shrek 2 in mind)
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Summary: the night wasn't peaceful for the ghoul because reader talks too much
Warnings: english is not my first language; reader is female; it was supposed to be more of a comedic oneshot; a lot of inner thoughts
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The night was getting cold. Chilly air mixed with the pleasant warmth emanating from the fire, touching your red cheeks. It was a nice feeling, especially after a whole day of walking in the brutal heat. The sun was killing you and the night was a nice change.
'I fucking hate wasteland', you thought to yourself every day.
Burning sun, disgusting monsters, crazy raiders or even that ghoul, literally everything could kill you any minute. It was hard to survive out there alone ans you knew that. Maybe that was a reason why you didn't ran away from him yet.
"So...", you couldn't stand the silnce anymore, "are you gonna finally untie me?"
You sat by the bonfire with your legs pressed to your chest, staring into the sparkling flames. Hands still tightly tied, of course. The other end of the lasso held the ghoul whom you met a few days ago.
He was sitting on the other side of the fire, leaning against a huge piece of something wooden. He looked like he was sleeping with a cowboy hat covering his face. The ghoul wasn't like anyone you've met before, but you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. He did tied you up after all and have gave you no choice, but to travel with him to God-knows-where. On the positive side - he didn't killed you. And that was something unexpected.
"Hellooo..? Did you hear me, Mr. Ghoul?", you never called him like that before, but you wanted any interaction.
No response. Was he really sleeping or just pretending that he didn't hear you?
It was in his style, to be honest. Ever since you met him, he seemed cold, selfish, like he doesn't care about anything else in the world but him. Sometimes straight up annoying, sometimes kinda funny and nice in a twisted way. These mixed feelings made you somewhat intrigued.
"Listen lady" , he didn't looked at you. "I need some peace and quiet so no stupid questions or talkin', got it?"
"Oh, come on! We have been travelling for days! I'm not gonna do anything stupid", it was this time when he was just annoying as hell.
"I bet you won't, sweetheart", you knew he smirked under that stupid hat.
"So what, are you gonna keep me like this to what? Sell me for chems? Or eat me one day?", you spoke once again. "You know, both options are pretty problematic for you because, I mean, you are really planning to sell skinny, dehydrated girl and hoping for decent payment?", fake scoff escaped your mouth. "Keep dreaming. I am way more useful as a compa-"
By anything stupid you meant something like killing him or running away. First of all, he was very skilled and you knew that attacking him was suicidal mission. Second of all, you could try to escape, but you didn't know if it was even possible with this man and did you really wanted to?
On one hand, there were plenty ways for him to hurt you. Shooting, beating, selling, starving you to death or worse - eating you alive. It was something... common on the wasteland. People were doing everything to survive and as crazy as it sounded, you understood it, the ghoul knew it as well. But on the other hand, after raiders killed your parents, life became harder than before. You hated it and what you hated more was loneliness. You had none, no friend and no family left. Maybe it was delusional, but you hoped for befriending the ghoul and travel with him for a little longer. Or maybe he could help you made it to town where you could stay. In that situation you didn't have many options (it didn't work by force anyway) to consider or anything to lose, to be honest.
"Oh, for fu-", he straightened up, finally looking at you.
You didn't have many opportunities to meet him face to face and take a closer look. Beautiful eyes spoke more than thousand words, that's for sure. The most noticeable thing was the lack of a nose, but aside that the face was handsome. You could imagine how he looked like before the ghoulification. In fact, you always thought that people were exaggerating with their disgust towards non-feral ghouls. They were still humans, right?
"You asked me a milion questions already, while I couldn't ask you one", you heard the irritation in his voice. "You better don't cross the line"
That silence was overhelming. Sure, the sound of camfire was nice, but your thoughts were getting weirder and weirder. You needed something to occupy your mind and because you weren't the best at small talk (or starting a conversation at all) you came up with the stupidest idea.
Classic threating. You rised your tided hands, palms facing him in surrender. It wasn't the right time to ask about the future and you didn't wanna cross the line, at least not that night. He was looking at you for a moment, making sure you wouldn't ask anything else and returned to his previous position.
You stared at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking about and you couldn't read him. Not before, not now and probably not in the near future. He seemed like he could always read your mind while being completely unpredictable to you. What he thought about you? What was his plan? You should be very scared or just scared? Many questions were running in your head, but you couldn't find answer for none.
"What it's like to be a ghoul?", you mentally slapped yourself, but there was no turning back now. "I mean, how did you become a ghoul? It was quick or it was a long process? My parents never told me much about ghouls"
Deep, long sigh escaped his mouth. He looked at you again, not bothering to move his body. Even someone like him lacked words and strength for you.
"Did someone ever told that you talk so much?", a ghost of a smile crept across his face.
"Actually, yes, my father told me that once", you smiled proudly.
"No lesson learned", you quite enjoyed his harsh voice with strange accent. He definitely didn't talk enough. "Can you be quiet for five minutes?"
"Hm, I'm afriad no, Mister", then it striked you. "I don't know your name! I won't shut up until you will told me your name. Wait, you do have a name, right?"
"Yes", you felt annoyed again by his lack of cooperation.
"Well..? You know my name, even you don't use it, may I know yours?"
"Cooper", the ghoul hide his face under the hat again. "Now, let me rest for a while, will ya?"
Bright smile appeared on your face. That was what you called a progress. It was genuinely a cool name and suddenly you started to wonder if he liked yours.
"But...", you heard a growl from under the hat, "we will talk about what to do next? I know how things works out here, but... We don't have to be enemies. I know you want to survive and I don't wanna be your prisoner forever"
You were on thin ice and for the first (and not last) time in your life you couldn't gather your thoughts. You wanted to tell him a lot of things in one go.
"I'm not your enemy, sweetheart, you don't have to worry. Now sleep or I'll have to shoot that pretty face"
You noded quietly. You knew that tomorrow you would try to talk to him again, still hoping for some sort of cooperation or agreement. Your life was on the line, after all. Not to mention that he called you pretty and even another threat couldn't take it away from you. Maybe that was the sign that he doesn't mean no harm to you, there was a hope, at least.
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adrift-in-thyme · 2 days
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Here it is! The fairy Time fic I promised. Be warned, it is extremely fluffy
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It is a quiet night.
Time is always grateful for those. They are in short supply on this journey, too often interrupted by the rise of the cursed Blood Moon or an outburst of beasts from under the cover of foliage. But tonight, the moon is tranquil and golden and the surrounding bushes and trees conceal nothing except chattering critters.
The heroes have settled around the fire, and are trading lazy quips. The occasional tale sneaks in between them, which quickly becomes a competition to see who has endured the more exciting experience. 
Time doesn’t normally make a habit of joining in. He is content to remain just outside the conversation, close enough to comment if necessary, but far enough to merely listen. Such peace and joy are precious things – as precious as every moment spent by Malon’s side – and they surround him like a warm blanket.  
Tonight, however, that wonderful feeling is making it rather difficult to remain awake. 
It doesn’t help that the healing spells he had cast in the aftermath of today’s battle have left him feeling drained. With the traveler down and their potions used up, he had had little choice but to act. And he doesn’t regret it in the least. But that doesn’t negate the fact that healing magic has never been his strong suit.
Every fae possesses the power, yet not all have the strength to employ it in such a measure as he had today. Healing is a delicate act. It requires attentiveness and care, dedication and focus. He had poured all of that and more into his spells, used his heart and mind, his soul to heal his brothers’ wounds and save their lives. And in the moments afterward…had collapsed. 
He is fortunate his brothers had been there to catch him. Too many times before he learned his limit, this weakness had spelled his doom. He has scars on his wings to prove it.
Still, he is practically useless, even now after the impromptu nap. He feels dried up and hollowed out, limbs heavy with the same exhaustion that drags his eyelids downward. And though he would normally protest at least a little at the prospect of staying in his current position, he cannot dredge up the will to do so.
So, here he remains, curled up on his side on Wind’s lap, Warriors’ scarf a silken cocoon about his body, one giant wing draped over him like a comforter. 
He shifts with a small sigh. The sailor giggles, ever amazed at his fairy form, and reaches out to run a finger over Time’s wings. He is gentle, careful in every movement. Still, Time is a bit surprised at the lack of the fear that usually bubbles up whenever anyone touches him in this form.
He has had too many injuries, too many close calls with death or worse. They have made him wary. But he trusts the sailor. Wind is nothing if not kind. 
He is safe here. 
The knowledge hits him harder than any monster blow.
You are safe here.
Something breathtakingly warm wells up in him at that thought, similar to the feeling he has been basking in since he awakened, yet unique all the same.
“Alright, old man?” A soft voice asks, now, and Time pries open the eye he hadn’t even registered closing. Warriors grins down at him. 
Time’s soft hum quickly dissolves into a blissful sigh as the captain tucks him more securely into his bed of softness. He allows his eye to slide shut again, his body to relax more fully. He allows the sensations and sounds to envelop him, surround him in warmth and comfort. To pull him down into blessed darkness once more.
“He’s adorable like this,” Wind says, his noisy whisper breaking through the haze. Another giddy giggle bursts forth from him like gurgling water. 
“He is, isn’t he?” It’s Twilight now. Time can imagine the dirt-eating grin on his face, the same one that spreads across Malon’s when she beats him in yet another race around the pasture. “Though I doubt he wants us calling him that.”
There’s a pause, then in a disapproving whisper-yell, “and he definitely doesn’t want that. Put that slate of yours away, champion!”
There is the distinct sound of a camera snapping a photograph. Laughter ripples through the group like the wind through the trees. 
“When he kills you all, don’t come running to me,” Twilight says, though there’s laughter in his voice too.
Traitors, Time thinks, lazily, all of them.
“Oh, come on, Twi. Look at him! He wouldn’t hurt us! Not like this anyway.”
“Then, you haven’t gotten a good look at his wings,” Legend pipes up, drily. “They’ve got eyes on them, you know.”
“Ooh.” Time can feel Wind’s breath ghosting him as the boy leans down to get a closer look. “I wonder if they make up for the one he lost. I’ll bet he can see us through ‘em!”
If Time wasn’t quite so tired (or finding this quite so exasperatingly comical) he would correct that assumption. But then again, what’s the harm in allowing a little rumor like that to spread and strike some healthy fear into the hearts of his would-be blackmailers? 
“Come on guys.” Warriors’ voice rises above the hushed clamor of the others, all bickering about Time’s ability, or lack thereof to watch them through his wings. “He’s exhausted. Let him sleep.”
The heroes try to quiet, though their efforts are about as successful as Time suspected they would be. Whispers and barely stifled laughter continue to weave their way gallantly through the night.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
…though a few more telltale clicks of Wild’s slate cement his decision to play a prank on him as soon as he regains his strength. 
“He’s so small,” someone murmurs, now as the hubbub begins to subside, sleepiness getting the best of even the most energetic among them. Sky, Time’s mind slowly supplies, putting a face to the voice that wafts gently around him. “To think, he healed us all while in that form…”
“Something you get to know very quickly about Sprite is that size doesn’t bother him,” Warriors replies, fondness in his tone. “Even as a kid, he could take out groups of monsters much larger than what we faced today.”
Sky chuckles, soft and almost sad. Time is too far gone to decipher why. 
But he can’t deny the sudden rush of warmth when the chosen hero whispers, “thank you…little one.” And when, in the next moment, Sky ghosts a finger over the very tip of his wings, Time is unafraid beneath his touch. 
He drifts off not long afterward to the sound of tired murmurs, the crackling of the campfire, and a soft song played upon an ocarina, the notes drifting up toward the moon.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 4 months
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so! you mentioned in the 'p0rn preferences' post that Gaz is not the one who jerks off the most in the 141, and I humbly ask you, who would that be?
I don't mean this as a request, just a little discussion, cause I feel like Soap would just be going at it at any chance possible, like a bunny. he probably doesn't care much if someone hears it, but that's just me thinking too much into it.
Who Jerks off the Most in the 141 + König
Warnings: 18+, Heavy Mentions of Masturbation, Male Masturbation, Implied Reader in Individual Headcanons, Accidental and Implied Voyeurism, Edging, Brief Mention of Injury, Men Who Moan <3, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.
A/N: As per Anon's question (which I just had to turn into a post of its own) I present to you the list of the 141 members (and König) who jerk off from the most to least <3
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Soap
I have to agree with you here, Anon - Johnny is most definitely the king of self love when it comes to the 141.
He doesn't much care where he is or who he's with; when he has to satisfy his needs, he'll do so.
Though, he'll spare whoever's with him the sight of watching him throwing his head back, trying to stifle his moans behind gritted teeth whilst the wet sound of his hand slipping up and down the length of his shaft fill the room.
Unless they want to.
For one reason or another, he's nigh-insatiable when it comes to his libido, and the fact that his stamina affords him the luxury of beating himself off until his cum is practically translucent doesn't help.
The slightest thing can set him off.
Someone brushing past him ? Hard.
Someone stroking his ego a little too enthusiastically ? Bricked up.
He sees something that's shaped to be a little too curvy or phallic ? Stiff as a pole.
He remembers something mildly suggestive you did three years ago in that restaurant ? He's going to the Horny Realm.
Yes, his teammates have complained about his incessant moaning-come-grunting-come-whimpering through all hours of the night, his voice contorting through a spectrum of desperation and Johnny always ending up spent and overstimulated by the time the sun comes up.
And then he's ready to do it all again the second night touches the horizon line, giving his teammates a knowing smile when he walks into the room sporting nothing else save for a pair of boxers and a monster that looks to be trying to tear itself free from them.
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Gaz
Dude's young. Of course he's throttling that rooster on a nigh-daily basis.
The only reason he's not at it as much as Soap is because he likes to believe he still has a few threads of his self-restraint intact.
He doesn't.
Especially when it comes to you (regardless of whether you're dating yet or not).
But he doesn't need to know that.
Honestly, the only thing that separates him from Johnny's unmatched libido is the fact that it takes a little more than the slightest provocation to get Gaz going.
Albeit, that line is a thin one.
If he so much as accidentally sees something explicit for upwards of three seconds, he's hard.
The only advantage of his need for satisfaction is the speed with which he can achieve it.
He and Johnny actually timed each other once to see who could get off the fastest.
Gaz won. Though, only by a slim margin.
Needless to say, that made for a rather interesting conversation with the Captain when he walked in on two of his best soldiers sat panting on the edge of their cots, an almost-translucent spray spattered across their stomachs, eyes half-lidded and hazy.
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Ghost
The third-in-line for the Throttle Throne is none other than our beloved Ghost.
Unlike Johnny and Gaz, Ghost is more likely to leave himself alone at the first sign of trouble, toughing it out until he can will his mind to less lustful pastimes.
He won't make his jacking off known to anyone, either, often doing it in the shower where the water beats down so harshly that no sound can be heard for the water's fall.
That, and he's a master at keeping his voice low, no matter the circumstances.
More often than not, Simon makes quick work of jerking off purely because it’s a means to an end. However, if it’s you he’s thinking of, he’s much more likely to take his time — to immerse himself in the fantasy of your body around his, taking him so well in one capacity or another. Fucking yourself dumb on his cock.
During these times, he’s thorough — much more likely to edge himself, to throw his head back and growl between gritted teeth, to savour the sensation coiling in his stomach, his balls growing tight.
Otherwise, he’ll stroke one out as quickly as he can, getting back to business as usual.
And to look at him, on the surface, you'd never know that he just spent the last three minutes rubbing one out in the bathroom (yes, he is also a contender for first place in the 'Who Can Jack Off The Quickest Competition', but he'll never allow Johnny or Gaz the luxury of witnessing his unprecedented skill; that's for your eyes only).
Until he corners you, breathing down your neck, scolding you for tempting him - a man whose restraint lies only in his ability to hold off from reducing you to an exponential reflection of his prior state, breathless and covered in fluids.
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König
Have you seen the size of that thing ? Man should be in the olympics for being able to throw that weight around.
Similarly to Ghost, König only gets himself off when it's absolutely necessary.
Only if he doesn't have you lying around to help him, of course.
Though, he lets himself have a bit of fun with it. Especially if it's been a tough day.
He's vocal, too. Though he tries not to be.
He just can't help it. Days' - maybe even weeks' - worth of unspent adrenaline and semen is hardly any way for a soldier like König to go about his life. So, he expels it in the privacy of quite literally any isolated space he can find.
König is not an adventurous spirit by any means when it comes to self pleasure, but when needs must, he's willing to shoulder the weight of the prospect that someone on his team could walk in at any second and catch him spraying his stomach or the wall white with, let's face it, thick ropes of cum.
Hong-Jin's actually caught him doing that before now.
That's actually how the two became friends: Horangi heard König grunting in the store cupboard and, knowing how stubborn his Colonel was with letting others know when he was injured, sought him out. Wanted to offer his help.
Catching Colonel König in the act of throwing his head back whilst growling the name '(Y/N)' into the darkest corner of the room was, suffice it to say, not what Horangi had been expecting.
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Price
You just know he's cool with it. And by 'cool', I mean incredibly intentional, controlled, and not ravenous in the ways our other favourite military princesses are.
Sure, Price has gotten hard on the job a few times.
Who hasn't ?
But thanks to his level head, unwavering devotion to his work, and absolute refusal to acknowledge that he did, in fact, get a little bit of a chub during a shoot-out, he's managed to gain control over every facet of his body.
Until he comes home to you, of course.
Until he's able to loom over you like an omen and run his hands down your sides, stopping at your hips and pressing kisses that become more open-mouthed the further down the side of your neck he dips.
Pressing his hips into yours. Something demands your attention.
There have been very few occasions where a cold shower wasn't a quick enough fix for him.
When the days of having you milk him are too far out of sight, he's had to suffice with his own hands before now. Had to imagine - remember - what yours felt like in his place, your lips curled up as he gripped the chair arms, breathless as he moaned into the warm tones of your shared apartment.
But don't worry ! He'll be sure to catch you up on everything you've missed while he's been away once he returns.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
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diedoverahat · 6 months
Text
A Different Kind of Compensation.
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part two!
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pairing: mike schmidt x fem!reader
prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.
warnings: 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal fingering (kinda???), munch!mike.
word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.
authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.
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The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.
You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt. 
“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”
“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”
He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again. 
“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”
You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.
Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. 
“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.
Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.
You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly. 
Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black.  His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.
“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.
Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.
Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids. 
Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.
"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.
Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.
Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.
"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.
"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."
Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.
As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."
He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.
"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.
Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.
He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.
“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”
Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.
Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.
“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.
It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.
“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.
Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.
He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.
After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.
You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.
It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.
He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”
You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.
You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.
“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”
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tojisun · 7 months
Text
simon (ghost) riley x fem reader
!! suggestive-ish; hinted age difference (20s vs 30s); hinted d/s; minors dni
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“why won’t you fuck me?”
your pitiful voice stops simon from moving, his feet stuttering with muted thuds. he breathes in sharply, not having expected the words that slipped from your lips, before he turns and tips his head towards you.
you’re trembling, and simon doesn’t know if it’s because of the cool air or the intensity of your emotions, those that urged you to whine at his pathetic display of restraint, but still he hesitates. afraid that if he comes close, then the remnant of his patience will finally snap.
because it’s not that simon wouldn’t fuck you – god knows there’s nothing more he’d want to do than love you slowly and deeply, caressing you tenderly until you are trembling at the intensity of his passion; until the doubts are finally crushed by the force of his affections – but it’s that he knew you deserve someone better.
someone who wouldn’t leave you for months and years long because of a mission. someone who’d stay by your side each and every hour because he knows you (sometimes he wished he didn’t, if only to make it easier to forget about you), and he knows that you need someone to spoil you. to pamper you.
simon knows you deserve more than the world, knows that he can only give you pieces of it but he’s selfish. he’s a monster wearing a human suit – incapable of surrendering, incapable of giving you up.
because simon knows you deserve better but gods he doesn’t want to let you go.
he moves to speak but you beat him to it, your lips wobbling as tears trickle down the corners of your eyes like molten diamonds. “you parade me around like a trophy wife but you won’t even give me a portion of that attention. you-”
his heart stops at the choked sob that gets stuck in the base of your throat, your face crumpling as you tremble at the intensity of your heartache.
it was instant how he moved to you, his frantic steps echoing against the cobblestone. he takes you in his arms, tucking your head underneath his chin and engulfing you in his embrace, hoping that you’d hear the staccato of his heart and know that it only ever beats for you.
you whine like you couldn’t decide if you want his comfort or not and simon freezes, afraid that he’s just heightened your bleeding heart. he moves to step away, his lips parting for an apology, but you clutch at the ends of his shirt, refusing to let go.
he follows your silent command – simon will follow you no matter where, no matter what – and presses you close again, his warmth mixing with yours and chasing away the goosebumps that littered your skin.
he kisses the top of your head, breathing you in. simon mulls over what to say, his own hesitation bursting at the corners of his mind, but he wants to stop pretending. he wants to stop lying to himself.
you love him and he loves you – sometimes, it could be that easy.
words aren’t his strongest suits but he tries anyway. “i love you,” he begins, the words slipping past his teeth with the simplicity of the truth. “i burn with the desire to be with you, sweet girl. but not this way. not yet.”
you tip your head up just enough to catch his gaze and simon croons at your swollen eyes, pressing gentle kisses on your eyebrows in comfort.
“why not?” you ask, ever so stubborn.
“because there are preparations that need to be done,” he replies, humming when your eyes widen in surprise. “i want to make love with you, sweetheart. not just make it as something fast and temporary.”
he watches you breathe in shakily.
“would you want that?” simon continues amidst your silence, his hand coming up to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.
you bite your bottom lip and nod. he clicks his tongue. “use y’r words. i need to hear it from you.”
“yes please,” you whisper, and simon coos at the broken rumble of your voice, still heavy with doubt. “i- yes. please, simon. i’d love that.”
“me too, sweet girl.” simon kisses your forehead, sealing the promise. “i’d love nothing more.”
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alastorss · 3 months
Note
Hello! I'm not sure if you'll be interested in writing something like this, but if your requests are open (and if you're interested), would you be willing to write some fluffy stuff? An Alastor x Shy/anxious reader, perhaps?
a/n: hello!! i'd love to write some alastor comfort fics based off shy/anxious readers but for now here's some good ol' fluff for the soul ♡ (with a mentioned quieter/shy reader)
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
You can always tell when Alastor's smiles are forced.
It's the subtle twitch of his eye, the annoyed little glare he'll stare into empty space with, the way his jaw gets so taut you're afraid it'll snap.
Quiet and observant, you've made it your personal duty to learn Alastor inside and out without stepping on his toes—watching how he grows increasingly annoyed with every brazen sex joke beat into his head from a distance but never actually having the nerves to talk to him.
You think you can read all his little tells by now. How his antlers get a little bigger with every huff of indignation. How his mind is never in the room (he's got a lot of souls screaming in his ears, after all. You learned that, too).
You thought you knew him just by watching, but you were wrong. Dead wrong. Alastor is an enigma, truly one of the great mysteries of Hell. You were foolish to think you could understand even half of him.
He's all bared fangs and glowing eyes right now, a hand squeezing your hip and the other tracing down your face. Waltz music faintly fills the lobby of the hotel where you both stand, but it feels like a million miles away when the static from the Radio Demon is sizzling in your ears.
His smile is impossibly relaxed, not an ounce of irritation in his expression that you've gotten so used to seeing all over his face. You can't comprehend this, can't understand why he's looking at you so softly and cradling your face with so much care.
It's bad enough that he had asked you to dance with him in the first place, and that you'd squeaked out a "yes" before considering the implications of that. He knew you were shyer than the rest of your friends here—perhaps he had been suspicious of you and wanted to get a closer look.
A dreadful chill runs up your spine and you shudder pathetically, eyes screwing shut as you await whatever fate will befall you in the hands of an Overlord.
But your judgement never comes.
Instead, his thumbs gently pull at your cheeks in opposite directions. When your eyes fly back open, you're face-to-face with nothing but warmth.
"You should smile more," he tells you without his usual facade of excitement. "It's wonderful."
You just stare at each other for a long moment, both frozen in place with his hands all over your face and you limply staying in his hold.
Oh no. Oh no no no. You're certain your cheeks are hot as magma right now because of some simple flattery. Then again, you've been watching him from afar for long enough to know that he doesn't flatter just anyone.
You jerk away from him with a nervous cough, but he catches your wrist and pulls you back into his chest. As if nothing had even happened, he guides and strings you along in a waltz once more.
Annoyance, anger, sadistic joy—these are all things that come as easy as breathing to Alastor. But this is a new emotion you're witnessing, with his ears pulled back flat against his head and his eyes avoiding yours even as he dances with you.
It makes you sputter in laughter, head tilting back as you giggle at how embarrassed he seems.
"Thank you."
He softens at this, smile genuine. You'll come to know this side of him, too. You're sure of it.
You don't know why you were ever so afraid of this monster. Not when he's automatically reaching out to trace your smile with his thumb as if it's something he's always wanted to do.
(It is.)
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
OK SO WHAT ABOUT ALASTOR X FEM READER EXCEPT READER DOESNT KNOW HOW TO REACT TO HIS CHIVALRY
So this takes place before they start dating and the beginning of the relationship. Reader basically has never met a guy who has chivalry(or is respectful) like ALASTOR, so when Alastor’s mannerisms come out, reader just looks at him like “wtf are you doing?” BUT NOT IN A MEAN WAY, more like in a confused way because they’re from a time where chivalry isn’t as popular(especially to women in general) and reader was raised to be tough(but it’s still nice to get treated like a lady). So whenever alastor acts like that reader just gets awkward and shy.
IM ASKING FOR THIS CUZ LIKE THE GUYS NOW HAVE NO RESPECT OR CHIVALRY like alastor😔😒 (ik not ALL guys but most guys now and days are jackasses)
Hnnng I fucking love this ✨️
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Harassment, Men being nasty
Description: ☝️⬆️
Back when you were alive, men never did the sort of things that Alastor does unless they wanted to get laid
Most of the men you knew had tendencies to act like frat boys or old perverts
Only having one goal in mind and if they got rejected then they got fucking nasty as hell with you
On top of that, you didn't have the luxury of growing up to be soft and helpless like some people
You had to be strong and look out for yourself, you rarely looked to others for help
Not even your own family
Some people didn't even look at you as a woman, just as some tough badass who didn't need anyone's helping hand
At least you hoped that how they looked at you
Not that you would've rejected the offer if anyone actually tried to help you out, everyone needs a hand now and then
The only people who ever offered any sort of help were horny guys who offered to help you let off some steam with them
Fuck off
But Alastor grew up in a very different time than you and his way of treating you always gave you whiplash
He would never dream of asking you to fuck within the first few days of knowing each other, or even the first month wtf kind of animals have men turned into??
You don't even wanna know, Alastor
His little pet names alone made you flustered but his actions??? A whole other monster in itself
When you first met him this crazy guy kissed your hand like you were in some regency movie
You were so shy afterwards that you couldn't look him in the eyes, your cheeks hot and pink
One time, Alastor actually took off his coat and put it over a puddle for you step on
Didn't you just beat up some guy for ripping it???
You could've just stepped over the puddle in the first place??? Why did you do that??
"I did what any proper gentleman would do for a lady such as yourself, Y/N..!"
You gotta look away at that point or else he would see how hot your face is getting, feeling flustered
Alastor actually asked you to dance to a song that wasn't meant for grinding and sweating on each other??
You blush and mumble something about not knowing how to dance to music like this and instead of making fun of you Alastor teaches you how
He's a wonderful dancer and leads the entire time, not letting you make a fool of yourself in front of everyone
You've never felt your heart do skip so many beats before
You're trying to ignore what some random lecherous demon is saying about your body and the things he would do to it??
Guess what-
"Now that is not the way to start a proper conversation with a lady of Y/N's status, or any lady for that matter."
Alastor scares him off for you and won't even accept your thanks in return, making your legs wobbly
Once your suffering with feelings for Alastor then every little thing he does makes you turn into a gooey puddle
It doesn't stop when he's suddenly courting you, only getting worse with each romantic act
He brings you flowers, dedicates entire broadcasts to you, asks you to take evening strolls with him
He does all this and never even expects a parting kiss from you, simply happy to be in your presence
When/why the fuck did men stop acting like this?? This is so much better than how they were back when you were alive-
You get flustered just at the sight of him now, wondering just how he's going to make you swoon today
Alastor is slowly getting you accustomed to how he believes you should always be treated, happy that you're no longer confused by his actions
This motherfucker just Pavlov-ed you into falling for him
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This was so fun to write!! I hope I did a good enough job!!
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gguksbeloved · 3 months
Text
TRAPPED - JJK
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read preview. before
1
you were trapped badly
you just couldn't understand where you messed up to have the Jeon jungkook obsessed with you. He was the type of guy no one wanted to mess with and you made sure to keep your distance and be practically invisible to just graduate peacefully.
oh how you wanted to laugh at that thought now
you were in your bed curled up, softly crying while clutching your phone which was blasting up with calls and texts from jungkook.
open the window pretty - 1:03 am
his text read. you closed your eyes shut tightly, a few tears escaping along the way. You knew you were playing with fire by not picking his calls up and not listening to him.
he was a monster
you still remember how he brutally beat up a guy for simply confessing to you. He almost killed him, if it wasn't for you crying and begging him to not do so.
And how could he just watch his baby cry over a stupid stupid boy?
of course he killed him.
but you don't know that.
slowly getting up from the bed you made your way towards the window and softly opened it-your phone still in your hand. Your eyes fell on the figure of jungkook leaning against his black sports car, his arms folded against his chest flexing his biceps. His eyes burning in anger looking directly at you; in contrast to his calm composure.
oh you were im trouble
you flinched when the phone in your hand started ringing and it was none other than him calling you while daring you to not pick up with his eyes.
picking up you couldn't utter a single word it was just your scared body, heavily breathing with a few tears escaping your eyes and dried up tears lingering on to your cheek, looking at him.
"you want a punishment that bad sweetheart?" his deep voice asked and you wanted nothing more than to slam the window shut and curl up in your bed praying he goes away.
"I- no" you pathetically stuttered and wished he heard you "I was asleep and didn't see your texts and calls- im sorry" you rushed to apologise after lying praying that he understands and leaves you alone.
"my baby was asleep, huh? sugar you can sleep all you want but at my place. I thought I had made myself clear"
"jungkook-" you sucked in a breath, his name tasting bitter on your tongue. how were you supposed to make him understand? "My parents won't ever allow that please"
"and you know i can make that no longer a problem"
this made your mind race at a hundred miles, what was he going to do? Was he going to-
"I'm giving you two choices, you either get your pretty little ass here or I'm gonna come up there and you know how that will end"
no no just no you felt like you could cry a river all over again, "please" you meekly let out while clutching your eyes tight
"so you want me to come get you" he nodded to himself and detached his leaned form from the car.
"no- l'm coming"
"that's like my good girl"
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DPxDC. Talon Dick. Part 2 of Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls
~Hail, Emperor, those who are about to die salute you~
Danny was terrified when he got the body of Talon in his morgue. The Court of Owls was notorious for leaving no trace after work. But Talon, a young man only a few years older than him, did not look like a mindless killing machine at all. Of course, the first time he had a couple of stab wounds from his new acquaintance but after numerous assurances that his help would remain their little secret and that he would not inform his superiors that he had fucked up on the mission, Talon began to trust him a little. as one dead boy to another. In a few months, most of the Talons come to him for first aid, and of course he got attached to the guys. After all, Gotham is not Amity Park and without the other dead ones around Phantom felt a little lonely. It was nice to give these poor people a few quiet minutes. Danny’s assistant has warned him many times not to mess with the Court of Owls, but Danny are Phantom and from the first time he met one of them he was planning to lose his temper and beat the boys' bosses to free them.
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Fenton was not prepared to lead the Court of Owls. Even if Danny got his education as a villain he never thought he’d work according to his profession. But leave a whole den? nest? of creatures turned into weapons he could not. Of course, the best choice after defeating the leaders of the Court would be to destroy the entire organization. But Danny couldn’t do that.
Talons were killers, means of intimidation, even if not of their own volition. They will be killed (again) or sent to prison for the rest of their lives. Talons needed safety and a good therapist, not all of this. Danny’s scared, and he doesn’t know how to take care of them, but the others won’t do it. People are afraid of everything different. They won’t care that these dead are just victims, they’ll only see monsters. He could be half-human, but now he has to think like a full ghost. Talons are dead like him. And they have been dehumanized, tortured, used. People can be cruel. To do the right thing, he has to protect them.
It was difficult for Danny to identify likes and dislikes of his new friends because they always had the same facial expression and were taught that they had no feelings. Bullshit. Danny’s parents also think ghosts have no emotions, but they just have wrong theories and do not manipulate them to make ghosts think the same. Well, maybe it’s because they don’t think ghosts can think at all, but still! So, Danny know that number three loves strawberry jam, and number five always steals some of his cereal, and number 11 always gets closer to the music column to enjoy the sound. And he also know that the Talons weren’t fully fed in their organization because they definitely have problems with their digestive system, and he is going to fix it. Vlad said that he had trouble taking human food for only a few months after the portal accident, and some of the Talons were dead for years and still use injecting nutrient solutions. When a Dead Man can’t have a couple of spoons of treats, well, that’s a crime.
He needs to find a way to consult with Frostbite and conduct a full-fledged health diagnostics for his 'minions'. And he needs to settle the paperwork so guys have a legitimate reason to live in the Infinite Realms.
~~~~~ Danny: Hey Jazz, I’m in trouble. When can you come to Gotham? This time I don’t mind hearing a little advice.
~~~~~
Even though Dr Fenton smelled like death and blood all the time, the smell was different. And this difference was enough that something dead inside them swore allegiance to this Owl at their will. Not that they had it, of course. Weapons don’t have free will. But at least pretending to be able to choose is nice.
The new Master was weird, but in a good way. Not that this Talon know more about what is good than any other Talon. Ah, Di- Talon had a headache. Anyway, serving him is right. They all feel it..And feelings matter!! Well, they are not supposed to have them too but… looks like the young owl didn’t mind.
Master was not angry at how Talon № 4 frowned when the master had to pull a bullet out of his shoulder, and he missed Talon's sweet laughter when it saw the battle of Signal and Spice King on TV. The only times he raised his voice to them were when they were trying to threaten people near the master. Looks like this owl wanted to instill fear on his own. Strange. Usually there was always an enemy of the court who had to be hunted down and destroyed.
~~~~~
Danny: See, when you kill people, you do not make it easy for me. First, I will need to examine the bodies and write the report of their death. Second, if their souls remain restless, they will become my problem again. No more trying to get the cashier to have a heart attack. He said they ran out of the product I needed, not that he’s cursing my family for the next millennium. No one wants to see any more angry ghosts in Gotham. Me after a 24-hour shift is enough, okay?
Talons were alarmed. So far the master had shown no signs that he might want to completely break one of the weapons. But what if this owl is planning on punishing them for all their mistakes at once when he’s really angry?
Talon is not supposed to show initiative or empathy. But Talon 12, who suffered an injury in the course of a mission with old owls, has not yet recovered. They inadvertently hid it when the leadership changed. 12 has not yet met Doctor Fenton, and they do not know whether the privileges of medical care are retained now when they belong to him. So far, the Master has been rather careless about their movements and a few of them have slipped away for a while to check on a fellow. They didn’t lie if they weren’t asked about another weapon, right? They shouldn’t be punished too severely when the Owl finds out. Talons were hoping that Doctor Fenton, who was not in a hurry to look at the document of the court, would allow them not to write off the damaged thing. № 12 was an old and experienced weapon and could train beginners even if it has only one hand now.
Well, that was the plan. Talons allowed themselves to become too careless. Terrible mistake. Even the Owl that is usually nice to them remains dangerous. They need to find a way to satisfy their young master. Young Owls always have anger issues, not that Talons can judge.
The youngest Talon shared information that he sometimes had flashbacks of a working red bird who always had a murderous expression until he got to the coffee pot fluid. And it's non-Talon past was never afraid of this bird. The chick could always be calmed with this dark liquid. Coffee is something that will return the master to the favorable mood!
Talons rejoiced at this remarkable discovery and decided to send one of them on a mission as soon as possible to get rid of the potential danger.
~~~~
Danny: Thanks for the coffee, man. Hey, you also took another drink, judging by the dollars in the check. I'm so proud of you! How it was? Good?
Talon thought for a second and nodded. Yes, it was good. He didn’t drink the drink himself but when a coffee shop employee wrote down his order with a trembling hand, a boy appeared in the door.
This boy, now almost a young man, he was from his memories. Another coffee was automatically added to the order.
On his way out, Talon walked up to the sleeping chick and gave a cup to him. Even without opening his eyes, the bat’s cub sniffed and sucked the drink. Dick chirped with delight and patted boy's head, ignoring the frozen people.
That's a true magic drink which is commanding the minds of the powerful of this world. Yes, it will help them for sure!
~~~~
Danny: See, Jazz, Dick’s making progress! He went to the coffee shop today. That’s great, isn’t it?
Jazz: First, don’t call him that, we’re still not sure that’s his name and not the way Owls used to insult him.
Danny: Hey, the fact that he hissed when you called him Richard proves nothing. I don’t like being called Daniel either, or, over my dead body, Dan. I have to call him something. They’re all Talons. What are your suggestions? Jazz: We’ll talk about this later. Now back to the coffee question. Danny, did you forget anything when you let Talon go for a walk? Danny: Which one? Jazz: Don’t play dumb! Did you open the news headlines today or not? This is serious! Danny: What? Shit...civilian clothes. I didn’t think he’d wear a combat suit for it. Jazz: Didn’t you give them outfits for everyday use? Danny: Yeah, I did! But they still wear their Halloween outfits. All the time. Look, it’s not my fault they take everything I say as an order. When I asked them to make the tea and our teapot broke, they broke into some guy’s house and stole it. Jazz: Which guy? Did you at least apologize? Danny: One of Hood’s goons. I’m pretty sure he’s already met Dick on patrol, 'cause the first thing he did called Jason and start crying about being followed. Lucky for him Red was at my house that night and went to calm goon down. But I swear to you, Dick was a little shit on purpose. Of all the apartments choose his? Nah, such coincidences do not exist.
Jazz: I could be happy that he’s getting more independent in his decision making but now I feel like I have to offer the poor guy a discount therapy course.
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Damian: Drake, we need to talk. I know about your investigation. You suspect one of the Talons is our missing Grayson. I’m willing to provide some evidence in exchange for… Tim: I don’t suspect, I know that. Damian: What? Where from? Tim: Well, the quadruple somersault was a good hint. And the fact that the Red Hood ran from him through the streets screaming that he wouldn’t take lunch from a damn golden child is also a tip. Damian:...Not a word to my father until we know more, right? I don’t want my older brother thrown in Arkham. Tim: Agree. It’s not like he doesn’t have a memory problem. He wouldn’t have made Alfred worried if leaving was his choice. We need more information.
Meanwhile in Gotham, Alfred aka the only one batfam member with more than one functioning brain cell *on his way to his first grandson and future husband of his sweet angel Jason*.
Danny: Jazz, we need to clean this house right now. Jazz: Since when do you start spring cleaning? Danny: I don’t know how to explain, it’s not a ghost sense, it’s more an unexplained sense of danger. Where’s the vacuum cleaner?
~~~~~
Talon №5 stood in the knitting shop in thought. What color would the little mistress prefer? It should remain useful even if the Owl does not give them direct orders. Knitting a cute sweater for mistress Dani would be a good start. Yeah, that color’s gonna be perfect. And maybe it should stop holding those needles like a weapon, it makes the cashier nervous, and he wants to pay without saving a civilian from losing consciousness.
~~~~~
Danny became a little alarmed when Talon threw himself at the old man standing on the porch. To his surprise, the Briton readily embraced the bird, and Dick let him. Talons who stood behind Danny happily chirped. Making their youngest member happy things always meant something good.
Alfred: Gentlemen, good afternoon. I guess I should thank you all for taking care of my dear grandson. Would you let me come in for a cup of tea?
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blingblong55 · 4 months
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No Judgement- Simon "Ghost" Riley
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---- F!Reader, fluff, dad!Ghost, husband!Ghost, mentions of dad-bod!Ghost ----
A/N: I've been having baby fever for about a week now and recently saw a tiktok and…it made me emotional for some reason so…here's this piece I wrote
Simon was the man who saw himself living in war and dying in it and then you came into his life. For some reason only he knows, he found himself being more careful during missions. Before you, he would rush into a room without care and now, he is more cautious. All because he wants to make it home, to a warm and cosy house. To your arms and loving kisses and to those three kids he swears he'll forever love.
You dated him for 2 years before he knew that you were it for him. Two years and five months, that is what took him to get on his knee and ask you to marry him. Oh if only Tommy was here to see this, that laugh he would have. Before you, Simon didn't show much emotions, besides anger or that cold and rude one he presented himself with. Now, all he can do is talk and talk about all he feels and most of the time, he shows that love and raw emotion through actions.
He didn't cry before you either, except for when his family died but when he saw you walk down the aisle, he couldn't contain the tears. Soap patted his back without judgement for he knew the girl walking to the groom was the one who made the crying groom's heart beat once again. Three years into the marriage, you become pregnant with your first child, a son and oh was Simon delighted.
He was prepared for it all, took courses, read books and made sure the home was baby proof of course, you took the role of being the princess, not a finger lift from you or he would pretend to get upset at it. He needed to protect you, even from the corners of the table, which he of course made sure were ready in case you or the kid would bump into them.
One baby and a puppy later, Simon Riley was a father and for the first two years, he took leave from the military and focused on you and the baby. His eyes are like his father and his energy is just like his. There were days when Simon cried, from sadness and happiness. For one, he was sad his mother didn't get to meet his son and he was happy that for the first time in so long, he knew what a family was like. Lazy Saturdays and Sundays, laying under a tree in the back yard, the grass all nice and soft so the baby would learn to crawl and eventually walk. The puppy watching with the guard, just in case the baby fell.
Simon was always there, for motivation, protection and love. He wanted to ensure that he wouldn't fuck up with this life of his. Soon enough though, he went back to work but he made sure to always have his family in mind. The giggles, the lullabies, smiles and that sweet emotion he had when he watched you and his son. It was bittersweet but so beautiful.
The birth of your second son came as no surprise when Simon once walked to you, shirtless and holding his son with one arm. For some reason that sight alone provoked you to want a second child, which as the loving husband Simon is, he obliged. Nearly ten months and he was by your side, holding your hand, letting you grip it and cry as your second little one came into the world. That cute nose and that smile, what a delight to be a mother to a whole new little light of life.
The holidays became more chaotic as the two boys grew up. Simon slowly left the military, doing fewer missions and being home more often. He began to grow a soft tummy and muscles, something he grew to be insecure about but with plenty of hours of cuddling one night and many kisses that included sweet nothings to his ear, he loved this new him. He wasn't his father but rather the best dad those two little monsters could ever ask for. His beard grew a little and you began to love this sight of him, it was beautiful really. So much so, that one day, as he was doing push-ups with his sons on his back and how they giggled, you teared up.
Making a home was easy but making a happy family was hard and rewarding. Before you knew it, Simon was carrying the kids around the living room, letting them beat him in a playful game of fighting and tag. The giggles around the house, the way Simon smiled like he had entered heaven, that is what made you tear up the most. This is home.
During the holidays, Simon gets so excited that he overdoes it all. He dresses like Santa Claus, eats the biscuits, drinks milk and even gets a treat from the woman of the house. A sneaky little kiss before Santa has to leave for other homes. "I've heard the woman who lives here is the most beautiful, maybe she'll kiss me as a little treat?" He smiles, pleading with those eyes of his. And who could you be to deny him of a sweet kiss?
For the first 5 years of being a proud dad to his two sons, Simon would wear matching outfits with them. It was sweet, watching him get excited like a child, trying to dress his sons up and take them for a walk.
There is one thing he was always making sure would be a rule at home and that is how they treated you. No son of his would be discarding a woman, no son of his would be disrespectful and no son of his would not see how much it takes being a mum and one who works and keeps a home clean and steady. And you bet he taught his sons how to clean and cook later in life.
One warm Spring day came in when you told him the news. Baby number three would be on her merry way. Just like before but with some slight changes, he spoke to your belly. He kissed it, read to it and told his jokes to it. His warm hands are placed on your soft belly when he looks up at you, "Thank you," his eyes are watery and you tilt your head just a bit. "For what?" you ask.
"For giving me a family, for making a home with me. Lovie, before you, I was truly nothing, just a man in a borrowed body and now, I have reason to own this old body of mine. I'm a husband and a dad, I love you," he kisses you and then your belly.
After the birth of your daughter, he like your two sons carried her in a camouflage carrier. A pink bow is one of the little patches. 'Baby girl Riley' is one of those patches as well.
As time went on, he transformed into a retired military officer. Now, he is a full-time dad. Night shifts and diaper changes were his duty as well as your comfort. With more time, he had a softer tummy, his dad bod making him insecure some days but as always, you were there to reassure him it was normal and it was beautiful.
There have been moments when you catch yourself being mesmerised by him.
For instance, when he plays dolls with your daughter or he gets into his role of the cashier when playing grocery. His sass when your daughter doesn't hurry up paying with her card or cash and how he calls her sweetheart any time she pays. There was one time when you saw him sat down on the sofa, watching telly all as your daughter did his makeup, hair and how she gossips with him and he gossips back. By the end of the day, he asks you to undo the tiny rubber bands from his hair.
Before he retired, you found him sitting by his desk, toys all over it as he wrote a report, played and gave his attention to his sons and this was because you were tired and he wanted to give you extra hours of sleep.
He became a football coach for your son's team, every Saturday he was on that field, whistling and shouting for when they make a goal. Of course, you and your daughter sat on the bleachers, eating snacks and cheering for the young footballer of your son. Simon of course would have dark cargo jeans and in most pockets, he had snacks for all his kids. "Daddy, mummy says you have my gummies," his youngest son would softly say and Simon would just pat his bottom pocket and his son would soon take out his gummies.
As his daughter grows old, it's his dad duty to not allow his daughter to date some idiot so, he makes sure to take her on dates, bring her flowers and make her understand how a man should treat her. When he and his two sons go to a different city for some sporting event, he comes back with two bouquets, one for you and one for his princess.
Since he didn't have a stable childhood, Simon, during winter buys everyone matching pyjamas. It just makes things 110% better in his opinion and who can deny a man with easy needs such a cute need? Never you, certainly.
By the time he reaches forty-three, Simon has his entire camera roll filled with pictures of his beautiful family and the occasional picture of a bird he thinks the kids would like to see.
Now, as you lay in bed with him, he turns to you, "I think I have lived this life to its fullest, lovie," he smiles and caresses your face. "Hm, yeah?" you lean into his touch and he nods like a little kid. "I mean, I have three amazing monsters, I am getting to see past thirty and I have always wanted a hot and funny wife, so I know for a fact that I have lived the best of it," he kisses your hand and holds it as he falls asleep.
A/N: Sometimes, I want a husband, a picket fence and lazy weekends with our kids bursting through the door in the morning and feeling like I made it in life…anyway…bye!
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raythekiller · 11 months
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could you plz do the creeps realizing they like someone & what they do abt their feelings?? thank you sm !
🗒 ❛ Realizing They're In Love ༉‧₊˚✧
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Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Masky, Hoodie
#Notes: warning for some light angst in some parts (mainly EJ and LJ)
pronouns used:
˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗
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꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer
He absolutely hates the way you make him feel and will be extra mean to you because of it. He doesn't even realize what the feelings are at first, he just knows they make him feel vulnerable and weak and he despises that and, by correlation, despises you as well. Once he does realize it though (after a good, good while) he'll still be mean, but more in a teasing sort of way. You can probably tell he has something for you because of how possessive he gets, always wanting your attention to be towards him and getting jealous every time you spend time with other people. He'll just keep behaving that way and getting increasingly upset that you won't notice his "obvious" flirting.
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꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned
Now this guy is the most shameless simp to have ever simped on the face of the Earth. That being said, he's not used to actually having feelings for someone - normally it only goes as far as physical attraction. So while he is normally decent at flirting (again, if you like cringe pickup lines at all), it all goes down the drain as soon as he realized he's actually, genuinely down bad. Suddenly he's stuttering, unable to get sentences out right, and finds his mind going blank whenever you're around, just fidgeting with his fingers nervously instead of trying to make a move. It's cute if you're into shy guys.
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꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby
Another one who's a little bit oblivious to his own feelings for a long, long time. All he knows is that you remind him of simpler times, times where things were better, so he wants to be around you as often as he possibly can. You'll be sitting side by side and he'll see your hand resting by your body and the thought of grabbing it crossed his mind, his heart immediately started beating faster to the point he had to excuse himself. That's when he knew. Though he is quite shy by nature, he'll try his best to be a little bolder in his own way, complimenting you more and being a little more physical. One of the only guys who isn't afraid to confess first, though his is a little bit more in the heat of the moment than a well planned out romantic confession.
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꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack
Now with him, things are a little more complicated. He has what I like to call "villain complex", where he truly and genuinely believes himself to be an awful, disgusting and vile person. Hell, not even a person - a demon. He lacks any kind of good opinion about himself, so when he realizes (quite fast, at that) that he has feelings for you? He feels offended on your behalf. To have a monster, an abomination like him be in love with you, something so good and pure in his eyes, is like the ultimate offense to him. So, he won't act on his feelings. Honestly, he'll even hope that you manage to get with someone else so he can know you're genuinely, truly happy and move on. It's very plausible you two won't ever end up together. Unless you decide to take matters into your own hands, that is.
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꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Laughing Jack
Jack is a little bit of a wild card. He naturally has a flirty personality, so you won't know that he's serious unless he decides to tell you, which he probably won't for a good long while yet. That's because, unless he tells you about it, he doesn't actually have anything to lose. His main fear is that you'll be disgusted by those feelings he has, disgusted by him, and decide to leave him just like everyone else did. It's not even rejection that he's so afraid of, it's abandonment. So, while he has one of the easiest times accepting his feelings, he'll be one of the worst when it comes to acting on them.
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꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky
Pretty similar to Jeff, but also complete opposites in some ways. While he is extra mean to you because you make him feel vulnerable, it's also because he's hyper aware of what he's feeling towards you. He's a grown man, he knows attraction when he feels it, sexual or romantic, but that doesn't make him hate it any less. Unlike Jeff who's an asshole as a way of flirting, Tim is an asshole to get you to hate him. If you just despise him, his feelings should technically go away as well, so that's what he's aiming at. He already has enough problems in his life, a "silly little crush" (as he calls it) isn't another one that he needs or wants to deal with. Again, if you want things to go further, you'll have to take matters into your own hands.
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꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Hoodie
Smooth ass motherfucker. Like Masky, knows what the feelings are right away, but has no fear in acting on them. And he's super fucking good at it. He sees love as one of the many pleasures of life, something meant to be enjoyed, so he's not going to shy away from it. He'll shower you in every love language known to man, this guy absolutely knows what he's doing. He's not even insecure that you might reject him, he knows he's a catch and you know what? He's not wrong. So it won't take him long at all to confess in the most chill but romantic way possible, like it's not even a big deal (which, to him, really isn't).
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tiyoin · 19 days
Text
parents day shenanigans
ep 1: trey’s mom tries playing match maker
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it being parents weekend at nrc and you’re helping your friends / the staff in preparing and you noticed several different parents just… staring at you. they’re not discreet either😭
you see some students fighting their parents- like physically fighting them as they’re pushing their son in your direction 😭 you catch one of the students gaze, and smile at them, sending them a polite wave as you make your exit.
this doesn’t stop though.
the more time that goes by and the busier you get, the more families filter in. the more younger siblings of your peers seem to scream your name before a quick slap to their mouth keeps them quiet.
you’ve told grim about this and all he says is that he should start paying them to take pictures with you AND grin the great. you chuckle as you kneel to the ground. opening a small duffel bag crowley armed you with, you start mixing around for a bottle of water.
why’d crowley have to pick the hottest day of the season for family day. curses.
“you’re y/n, right?” suddenly a shadow blocked the beating sun from your crouched form. the voice, for once, was feminine, it was soft and flowy. clearing your throat, you began to turn around “yes, that’s me” looking up at the rather petite woman, you noted her kind smile and rosy cheeks.
though there was a bit of… something in her golden gaze that you couldn’t quite place. it reminded you of a hawk, yet it didn’t have the same intensity as the bird of prey’s. slightly guarded of the mystery woman, you began to stand, dusting off the dirt on your uniform pants.
“grim you mind getting me a bottle of water from the duffel” “uh, yeah i do mind” he huffed, turning his nose up. but you didn’t play into his antics this time, just softly thanking him as you turned to face the woman.
and just as you thought, in a few seconds you heard grumbling and rustling as the monster looked through the duffel.
“i’m sorry, it was rude of me to not introduce myself- i’m trey’s mom, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” sticking her hand out, you stared at it for a second, flickering your gaze to her smiling eyes before you hesitantly focused on shaking her hand.
“it’s really nice to meet you mrs.clover” she laughed, flicking her hand as if you told her a joke.
“please, just call me alice! with how much my son talks about you it feels like we’re already friends!” she smiled behind her hand. her eyes never leaving yours as she watched your jaw open in shock.
“he- he talks about me?”
like vil schonheit, she gasped in surprise, her hands flying to her mouth as if she just realized she ratted on her son. “oops! silly me, i shouldn’t have told you that! please don’t tell try what i told you the next time you see him, okay?”
about to swear your silence, her hands lowered as her lip quirked up “or do, he’s adorable when he’s flustered” and just like that the smirk was gone and her sweet persona took over.
“o- okay” you gulped due to the lost of words you seem to find yourself at. what the hell was happening??? it hasn’t even been five minutes and this woman has made you go through the 3 of the however amount of stages of grief already.
“here” a cute, raspy voice said from behind you. feeling a small few tugs on your pant sleeve, you accept the water bottle from grim, immediately chugging it to combat the new heat you found yourself in.
“oh what an adorable cat you have there, i’ve heard all about ‘grim the great’ as well” she leaned down to pet his head. normally- normally grim would snap his teeth at an unwelcome touch… and yet- grim seemed to welcome it no, enjoy it was his ever so famous grin exposed more teeth than you’ve ever seen.
“nya-ah!! see! i told you everyone loves grim the great!” picking up the boasting cat, you could only roll your eyes as you adjusted him in your grip.
“geez grim, go to town on the tuna last night? i swear you weren’t this heavy yesterday” you groaned, trying to fix him with your knee.
huffing, grim crossed his arms and refused to look at you or acknowledge your struggling. “hmph! a henchman should always be able to carry their master! you’re just weak!!” “am not”
“allow me to try” a voice interjected.
you wanted to smack yourself in the face for forgetting someone- let alone trey’s mother was here and a witness to your usual shenanigans with your partner in crime.
“are you sure?” you look at his squishy tummy as you offer her a coy smile“he’s quite heavy”
“pshh- nonsense! i’m a baker! we’re used to carrying all sorts of things. we’re quite strong so to say.” she takes him from your grasp easily. and with the same easiness, she put him in a comfortable baby position where his legs were around his waist, arms around her neck, and his neck over her shoulder.
“there! easy peasy lemon squeezy!” you could hear from sigh in content, his forked tailed swooshing happily.
“remind me not to get in an arm wrestling match with you anytime soon” you mused, looking around nervously as the woman wouldn’t stop staring at you.
laughing softly, she shook her head “it’s not me you should be worried about-“
“mom?!”
kill me now. kill me now. kill me now.
“speak of the devil and he shall come! trey baby how are you! i thought you were with your father and your younger siblings”
trey made his way up to your little group from behind you, stopping only when he turned the line into a triangle.
“y-y/n! i’m sorry if my mom said anything weird”
waving him with a woobly smile, you jerked your head towards his mom. “she’s actually been a great help with keeping this one outta my hair” trey looked at the furry sack in his mother’s arms and only sighed.
“mom-“
“now now trey, let the ladies talk in peace okay!”
you swore you could see a grey hair manifesting as he sighed. “mom y/n is super busy and has to get back to work, let me introduce you to my science club teacher okay?”
quick and straight to the point, trey clover as usual had an agenda and that was to get his mom away from you before she said anything too revealing.
huffing, the woman pet grim once more before giving him over to you. but before that, she made sure to fix the cat monster’s position to where he was resting on your hip. with a proud smile she stepped back and looked at the two of you.
“look at you!! a natural!” she clapped, eyeing her son next to you for a moment before she bid you farewell. (not without a few comments herself )
there was a beat of silence before he sighed again. rubbing the nape of his neck he adverted his eyes bashfully. “i’m sorry about her, she’s a bit…”
“bubbly?”
“ambitious, that too- but definitely ambitious. she’s head of marketing for our family bakery for a reason”
“no shit” you gapped, watching the short haired woman vanish in the crowd. still nodding, albeit awkwardly this time, you adjusted your grip on the heavy cat. “he’s like a fat toddler” you joked, wanting a small chuckle from your senior.
“yeah… you’re definitely right about that”
“trey! honey! i forgot to give your friend her treat!”
like a panther, she jumped out from the sea of swarming families with a purpose.
“oh my sevens ” he breathed, rubbing his creasing brows. smiling up at him, you made a comment about it just being a treat.
“because of my son’s dorm” she started once she was within ear shot “i wanted to make his friends a little something something”
“now i see where you get your baking prowess from” you elbowed him, but he was too busy keeping his flushed face in the palm of his hands to respond.
“here you go~” she cooed “it’s a chocolate lollipop! in the shape of a heart! cute right! trey made it himself!”
“that’s cause i thought they were for an-“
ignoring her son, she started explaining the wrapped sweet to you. “oh yeah it’s definitely one of his best works!”
“really?” you mused, looking up at him “even better than your tiramisu?” he shrugged, still ostrich-info in his pile of sand (his hands).
“even better~ now c’mon trey! we have to find maddie, she’s wondered off again”
“again?” his head popped out as his glasses were a bit crooked, being a friendly neighbor, you did the only natural thing.
“uh trey” you pointed at your own face once you made eye contact “your glasses are a bit crooked”
cursing silently, he fixed him with a quick thank you before he rushed off in whatever direction his mom had come from.
and finally, with a big thumbs up and a toothy, shiny smile, she left to follow her son.
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rxzennia · 11 days
Text
hibernation/ brumation
– tales of the voracity pathstrider
✎𓂃 winter dormancy.
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in his five years of being your boss, aventurine hasn’t ever seen you send in a request for leave. but here he is, staring at your application for a month-long vacation.
a month? isn’t that a little too long?
you didn’t even stick a little comment about where you’re going or what’s happening, dammit! he wants to know so bad, but he feels like he’ll either overstep his boundaries or come off as clingy if he asks.
he’ll approve it, of course!
he wants you to not hate your job, and part of being a good boss is letting his subordinates take the leaves they’re entitled to
and you deserve a nice, long break, anyway
but the curiosity is killing him inside. what will you be doing? will you still hang around the IPC?
he really, really wants to barge into your office and wrench an explanation out of you
and also, how dare you try to take leave right into the holidays! rude
he wanted to take you out to dinner! to fancy places! he was prepared to have a schedule full of you!
totally not dates or his attempts to spoil you
he totally isn’t thinking of doing it so that you’ll spoil him in return
he’s found out that you respond to him if he rants at you
and that you get very soft and careful with him if he presses the right buttons
he digs that so much it’s unreal
there’s something about having you, of all people, treat him tenderly
perhaps because he’s seen firsthand what kind of monster hides in your scarf
or… what kind of monster hides beneath your silent, icy exterior
it just hits different when someone like you treat him so gently
and he knows for a fact that you’ll never abuse that power you have
he absolutely loves that. 100%.
“guess who’s here!” aventurine announces as he enters your office without so much as a knock, “hard at work, my favorite secretary?”
“out, please.” you hiss, sparing him barely a glance from your computer, “i’m concentrating.”
since when did your complaints stop him
he saunters over and sits himself on your armrest anyway
your scarf lift him up and set him down on the couch opposite to you
he finds his way back to your chair
you put him on the couch again
he comes back to your armrest
is he a cat obsessed with a particular box (namely, your chair) or something
you give up
“what is it?” you relent, scooting over so he can fit onto your seat, too, albeit barely
this man does not hesitate to invade your personal space
“where are you going for a month, hmm?” he asks with a playful smile, “can’t even tell me?”
oh, so that’s what this is about
but why is he resting his face in his hand and looking at you like he’s trying to flirt?
“hibernation.” you keep typing without giving aventurine much of a reaction, “not exactly, but close. brumation.”
wait. wait, what?
it doesn’t take a genius to know that aventurine is currently flabbergasted. “you… hibernate? like sleep hibernate?” 
“no, i hibernate awake.” you mumble sarcastically, but he catches it even if your words are muffled
“c’mon, i’m just checking!” he throws his hands in the air as if protesting your attitude
“yes, i sleep, for the most part.” you scoot over a little more and lift him up, setting him down in your lap. “but i’ll be awake here and there.”
you rest your head on top of his and continues to work, effectively caging him in
he realizes you’re much more like a snake than he thought
not in an alarming way
you’re coiling around him, but, like, in a friendly danger noodle way
“will you?” he chuckles; maybe his plans aren’t entirely foiled, after all, “for how long?”
you look at him. “a few minutes up to an hour?” 
you’re only getting up for water and/or changing sleeping positions
never mind, his plans to try to spoil you is, in fact, foiled
he pouts. he had the entire thing planned out already! all five days that you’ll be off!
he looks like a kid who’s about to buy the last donut but you beat him to it and buy the donut right in front of his eyes.
“you can visit.” you say, and you see him light up almost immediately. 
though, you don't think there’s much worth visiting, but whatever makes him happy
when aventurine visits you during your well-deserved vacation, he’s pleasantly surprised. you’re sleeping so peacefully, despite the fact that you usually rarely sleep at all.
you’re curled up into half a ball under your blankets and your scarf
and letting out little snores
is this what you look like when you’re asleep? 
so adorable. if only you’d let him see it often…
but he doesn’t know the frequency of your brumation period
as far as he knows, it’s once in five years, but he has no idea if it’s more than five years
you’re not covering your face, either
aeons, he loves seeing your unobscured face
you’re so beautiful under your scarf
especially the patches of scales along your neck, they glitter in white gold under the light
he wishes you wouldn't try to cover them up
during your entire month, he’s going to be in your room whenever he’s free
he will totally try to sleep next to you at night
what? it’s not like you haven’t shared a bed before!
it’s just that you’ve never been asleep by each other's side!
you will cuddle into him if he tries to hold you
and you will get fussy if he tries to get out of the hug
if only you were as honest when you’re awake
aventurine has been trying to catch you in your small conscious windows, but he’s having not much luck with that. though, this isn’t exactly a gamble, so “luck” might not be the right word here.
he’s so busy; he’s drowning in work 
your temporary replacement isn’t very good at their job
or maybe he’s just used to the way you do things and now everything feels wrong
he wants you back already 
because nowadays he barely has an hour to spend with you apart from bedtime
he hates it
what do you mean by he can’t sit next to your sleeping form while he signs papers?
horrible, very horrible
but eventually he does catch you when you’re awake
you’re drowsy and you’re dragging your blankets and your scarf with you around your room
the cutest thing he’s ever seen in a long while
he watches as you clumsily pour yourself some water, spilling some on the table because you can’t line up the jug and the glass properly
and he watches as you sluggishly flop onto your couch after you’ve downed the water
“had enough of the bed?” he asks, sitting down next to you and brushing a few strands of hair away from your face
“hnnnnnngh,” you grumble and turn to face away from him, you just want to go back to sleep
then you remember this is your boss’s voice
and you reluctantly mumble, “it’s too warm…”
do you even know what you’re saying? you’re melting his heart
“oh, that so? it’s too hot over there?” aventurine snickers softly, his hand caressing your face, the cool fabric of his glove making you sigh in delight. “you’re so lovely.”
he recognizes the amount of trust you have in him to let him visit you when you’re sleeping, and it’s doing things to his stomach. you’re so lazy, so barely aware of your surroundings, but you trust him to be around you while you are in this state.
there is an urge, and he acts on it. he nuzzles against your cheek, rubbing your noses together and planting a small kiss on your forehead. he’s been dreaming of holding you like you’re his greatest treasure, but he’s never mustered up the courage to do it. 
maybe someday he will tell you, and then he’ll be allowed to adore you openly the way he’s always wanted to.
“my favorite snake,” he whispers to himself, feeling a shudder of affection throughout his bones, “sleep well. i’ll look forward to taking you out when you rise.”
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whaledenwtf · 4 months
Note
Hello! This might be a weird request but what about Gale, Halsin and Astarion with a s/o who's super cute and friendly and overall just a gigantic sweetheart who also happens to canonically be horrifyingly powerful. Like potentially even more destructive than Gale and the orb. Enemies who know their lore turn and run just at the mention of them and their name strikes fear into many hearts but then the camera pans over and it's this short sweetheart of a person. Literally this post basically
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Thank you so so much, I really love your writing! Also Happy Holidays sweetie! ☺️
I love this idea!! I made it headcannons so it wasn't too long to read! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Please ask more, I love writing things for people <3
REQUEST HERE
Headcannons: Astarion, Gale and Halsin with a super cute friendly S/O who's horrifyingly powerful
Warnings: None, this is just indulgent FLUFF, Minor Spoilers for Act 1 and for Gale and Astarion's Lore
Astarion
You were always sweet with Astarion, and only made him feel comfortable and safe.
After he told you he was a vampire, you accepted him despite everyone else telling you not to!
When you told him you could beat Cazador, he didn't believe you at first because of your sweet nature.
The first time he realized you were a legend was when you guys raided the Goblin Camp to save Halsin.
You initially told everyone your name was Tav, so nobody really knew who you were.
Every Goblin met their end with a swing of your weapon, gutting them before they blinked.
It scared your companions, honestly.
When you got to Minthara, you told her your name was (Y/N), and she backed away from you.
Astarion was confused until Karlach, Wyll and Lae'zel spoke of your legendary moniker.
Wyll may be known as the "Blade of Frontiers" but you were known as "The Walking Death" and that was thrilling for Astarion.
Every monster, creature and being met their demise when face to face with you.
Astarion was a slave for 200 years, only knowing the bare minimum from Cazador. But knowing you were on his side, and under his thumb, that thrilled him!
Once you apologized about lying to your companions, they all welcomed you in their arms, especially Astarion.
As he slowly falls in love with you, he realizes that he likes knowing his significant other is not only powerful and showed no mercy, but showed him life through another lens.
You show him that love doesn't make someone weak, but stronger.
You're powerful, and having you by his side makes him feel unstoppable as well.
He is very grateful for you. You will pull him from Cazador's clutches and stay with him through it.
Despite your sweet nature, you kicked ass. You saved everyone you could, which annoyed Astarion. But he loved you despite it, and always will.
After all, why would he run away from the first good thing to happen to him?
Gale
He was also confused about who you were right away. As a scholar he spent most of his time in books, rather than the battlefield.
Honestly, his mind was distracted between the Netherese Orb in his chest and Mystra.
When you pulled him out of the portal, he was struck by your kindness.
Then he was struck by your beauty when you fought valiantly for your companions.
He was excited seeing someone so powerful near him, and honestly fell harder.
After telling you what Mystra did, you told him you'd kill her.
He laughed you off, until he saw what you could do.
Now he's worried he won't have a goddess to worship.
Your battle prowess is astounding, and he can't help but admire you as you shout commands to your companions.
You always were gentle with Gale, soft touches and sweet nothings between you two.
He always finds it difficult to associate you with your title.
"The Slayer of Man and Beast" he's heard Lae'zel and Shadowheart call you.
You always chuckle and tell them "soon you'll have to add gods to that"
Now he's even more worried about his goddess
Over time, he considers you his goddess. After all, you've protected and respected him much more than Mystra ever had.
When he tells you about the Netherese Orb, you shrug him off.
"Nothing will keep me from you, not even a bomb."
Wow
When you two are alone, he caresses your muscles and your hands. He's in love with the idea of his significant other being this battle-worn individual set to protect him
Throughout your adventure, you remind him that you would protect him with your life.
"All for little old me?"
"Nobody will stop me from protecting you. No monster or goddess."
Man you really hate Mystra for hurting Gale so bad.
You dream about smiting her and protecting Gale in your arms.
While adventuring, you always keep Gale by your side. Everyone teases you for it until you shoot them a warning glance.
You're so so good to him. You take hits for him, heal him in battle, and heal him in the privacy of his tent.
"You're too good to me." He muttered once, eyes closed.
"You've never been treated right. It's my personal duty to make sure you never doubt yourself ever again." You replied, kissing his eyelids.
He just fell harder.
Halsin
He actually knew who you were before you saved him.
When you said your name, he bowed his head in respect.
"An honour to put a face to the name" He said to you.
You told him you loved how big and safe he was.
"You're the one who would keep me safe, little one."
He wasn't wrong. You've saved him multiple times throughout your adventure.
You were very sweet with Halsin, always leaning against his arms and closing your eyes when you sit together in camp.
He found it amusing, seeing such a feared individual be so innocent and kind with him.
In his 350 years of existence, he's never been so captivated by someone like you.
When he tasked you with eradicating the Goblin Camp, he enjoyed seeing the fear in Minthara's eyes when you said your name.
Despite being a druid, he knew that with life also came death. He accepted your past.
He found the juxtaposition of your personality endearing.
One day, he was in wildshape lounging around as a bear. You laid on him and spoke about different topics regarding your life.
In that same day, he saw you obliterate 20 goblins on your own.
He never thought he'd be aroused by someone killing goblins, but you did that.
You also knew all the spots to scratch when he was a bear??
Yes that's the spot. Right behind his ears.
He liked seeing the way you treat your companions with such kindness.
You showed respect and compassion to those who you find deserve it. You helped people find safety, and feel safe.
It was beautiful, the way you showed such love to those who were close to you.
He always compared you to the ocean.
"Why the ocean?" You asked him once.
"You can be calm, bring peace. But you are also wild, strong in the most beautiful way." He replied.
He enjoyed the way you blushed.
One time, you asked him to wildshape and you rode him into battle. Nothing is scarier than seeing (Y/N) "The Tempest" riding onto a bear.
Even your companions were scared
Ever since then, you always did it. It was like couple bonding, somehow??
Gods, he loves his little tempest
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Hope this is as enjoyable for you guys to read as it was for me to write!!
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loveinhawkins · 10 months
Text
Steve’s bat bites start to bleed again during the drive out of The War Zone.
It’s a slow realisation, a creeping dampness on his skin.
He stays as still as he can, keeps his movements small and contained when turning the steering wheel; he thinks he mostly gets away with it, manages to park the RV and pitch his voice on just the right side of normal as he tells the kids to scram.
Awareness of his surroundings grows a little fuzzy around the edges, but he senses enough to know that he’s alone—the silence feels heavy, makes his ears ring.
He lifts himself up out of his seat, one hand clinging onto the headrest for balance. The ringing gets sharper, more high-pitched; he shakes his head to try and clear it.
One step forward, then another, and another.
There’s a slight rocking motion under his feet. It feels a little like he’s in a boat that’s docked, constant movement even in the gentlest of waters.
His palms brush against the bathroom door.
“Okay,” Steve whispers to himself.
He hangs onto the sink to keep himself upright—feels the room sway, as if the waters underneath have suddenly become stormy.
With one hand, he finds the knot in the bandage.
“Okay, okay…”
Pulls.
Steve doesn’t think he blacks out, not quite, but there’s a shift, a dizzying tilt… and then, somehow, he’s sitting on the closed toilet seat.
And…
The bat bites must cause hallucinations or something.
Otherwise, Steve cannot explain why Eddie—who notoriously threw up and passed out during a dissection in Biology—is currently pressing a clean bandage against his stomach, staring down at the blood like he can’t look away.
“You’re good, you’re good,” Eddie’s saying.
He’s clearly trying to sound calm, but it’s just coming out strained, like what he really means is this is all a fucking nightmare actually, but we’ve gotta find something to be optimistic about.
“Think it just needs some more pressure,” he goes on. “Yeah, there, see? It’s stopping. Oh, thank God.”
Steve feels more gauze getting wrapped around his middle—if he wasn’t injured, it’d almost be a nice sensation, Eddie’s touch somehow the perfect mix of both firm and gentle.
As he works, Eddie hums nervously.
“Talk to me Harrington,” he says in a shaky sing-song. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging, man, gimme some awkward small talk. Got any hopes? Dreams? Anything I should know?
Oh, so many things, Steve thinks, still light-headed.
But then he really does mull that over: his mind goes to The Upside Down, to belatedly telling Eddie about the hive mind, and oh shit.
“Hey, weird question,” Steve says, “but I’ve not been, like, asking you to make it cold in here or, um, anything like that?”
Eddie blinks. “Uh. No?”
“Okay.” Before he lets the relief of hearing Eddie’s answer sink in, Steve adds, “If I ever do, you need to lock me in here and get out. Tell Nancy.”
Eddie’s staring at him like he’s grown a second head. “Sure. Cool. Cool! Uh, for any particular reason or—?”
“Just in case—like, I don’t feel any different, but—one time, Will Byers, when he was in The Upside Down it, like, infected him? Like a virus. Except more… possession. And they had to kinda… burn it outta him.”
“Ha,” Eddie says. A beat. “Oh fuck, you’re serious.”
“I really don’t have the energy to be messing with you, dude.”
“Sorry. Sometimes you all just say things, y’know? And if I don’t get it, I’m like, well, they’ve been living through this for a while, maybe they’ve got a code going on.”
“I mean,” Steve says, “we kinda do.”
Eddie shakes his head. “So when Buckley said she dealt with a human-flesh-based monster, and the one before that was smoke-related, that wasn’t just, like, a really fucked up metaphor?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, pleading. “Please say it was a metaphor.”
“Sorry,” Steve says sincerely.
Eddie sighs through a lacklustre chuckle. “You’re fine, Steve. As for, uh, being possessed, I don’t think so. You’re no weirder than usual, but—”
“Wow, thanks. Means such a lot coming from you.”
“—you were a bit, like, out of it for a few seconds, but it just looked like you were gonna faint on me. Um. How’re you feeling now?”
“Good,” Steve says. When Eddie raises an eyebrow, he tacks on, “As good as I can be, I guess. Still.” He groans slightly as he stands, goes back over to the sink. “Better check.”
“Check? What?”
Steve runs the water as hot as it will possibly go, until the steam is evident. He sticks his hand right into the stream, hears Eddie hiss as the water scalds his skin.
“Okay, yup. Not possessed.”
“Fucking fantastic. Now I want it cold,” Eddie says.
He takes control of the faucet, nods for Steve to put his hand under the now cold water.
After a minute or two, Eddie sighs and collapses onto the toilet seat himself.
There’s a squeak as Steve turns the faucet off—his skin’s probably not had the good of the cold water for nearly long enough, but it’ll do.
Eddie’s tipped his head back so he’s facing the ceiling, eyes closed. Steve watches him with sympathy; he really must hate blood.
“Eddie. You can go.”
“Mm, nope,” Eddie says without opening his eyes. “I’m fine right here.”
“Suit yourself.”
Steve turns back to the sink, frowns at the tiny mirror above it; there’s black spots on the glass, but he can make out enough. Christ, the bags under his eyes are horrific.
“Relax, Casanova,” Eddie says, almost as if he’s heard Steve’s thoughts. “You look good.”
“Uh-huh. Think your brain’s fried from being on the run.”
Steve leans against the sink with one hip, finds Eddie looking at him with a small smile.
“Yeah, probably. Or maybe being on the run just suits you.” Eddie’s eyes flicker down. His smile falters. “You know, in an ideal world,” he says conversationally, “you’d be in a hospital getting stitches.”
Steve scoffs. “In an ideal world, I’d be in bed sleeping.”
“Amen to that,” Eddie says lightly. But he still looks sombre. “Seriously, though. If it gets… you know. I’d drive you.”
“To the hospital? What are you gonna do, Eddie, wander up to the front desk? Sounds like a real interesting way to get arrested.”
But Eddie doesn’t leap at the chance to make a joke.
“Steve,” he says softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t care.”
“That would sorta ruin the whole priority of hiding you.”
“That’s—” Eddie huffs. “That’s not the priority.”
“Huh, that’s funny, cause it is in my book.” Steve nods at the door, to his whole world just outside. “One of many.”
Eddie’s eyes narrow. “And your name better be right at the top, Harrington.”
Steve hums.
“In bold. Underlined.”
“Whatever you say.”
Eddie groans quietly, runs a hand down his face. “You worry me, man.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“I know. Just…” Eddie hesitates. “Don’t go off alone. You know?”
Steve thinks it over. He steps forward and offers Eddie his hand.
Eddie takes it.
When Steve pulls him up, he stumbles a little, as if he feels like he’s on a boat, too.
“Oops, sorry.” He grabs onto Steve’s forearm for balance. “Think this should be the other way round, man.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so.”
Steve leads the way out of the bathroom—doesn’t mention the fact that, really, they’re both holding each other up.
There’s a bottle of water left in the back. Steve twists the cap off. Drinks.
“You too,” he tells Eddie.
“Huh?”
Steve considers him—thinks of the little flare of panic he felt when watching Eddie walk through the woods, tiptoeing around vines. How he had a sudden instinct to catch up to him, to make sure he wasn’t alone.
“I’m making a deal,” Steve says. “I won’t go off alone if you don’t.”
He lifts the bottle up as if making a toast—drinks again then passes it over to Eddie.
For the slightest of moments, their fingers brush; Eddie’s rings skim over Steve’s knuckles.
“So what’s this?” Eddie asks. “Legally binding magical water?”
Steve shrugs. “Cool metaphor,” he replies.
You say you just turn heel and run, Eddie. But sometimes I think if there was a fire, you’d run towards the flames if it meant no-one else got hurt.
Eddie smiles. Tilts the bottle towards Steve.
“Guess it’s a promise, then,” he says.
He drinks.
Steve prays that it holds.
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