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#perks of not wanting to do Some Stuff
machidielontheway · 5 months
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was a bit anxious yesterday evening about going to the doctor today (the appointement was "early" and i'm chronically late and i had 5 questions and i'm not always the most articulate) but i was just in time (came in, sat, took off my jacket, and the doctor opened the door to call me) and as the friend who recommend her to me had said, she was very nice, good listener, had replies and advice to all my questions. it made my day tbh lol
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bruhstation · 4 months
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can't it even be more obvious thomas. why are you surprised that a sudrian historical site filled to the brim with armor and weaponry that dates back to the middle ages has old people afflicted with the gold dust working around the castle
#thomas the tank engine#thomas and friends#ttte glynn#ttte millie#ttte stephen#casa tidmouth#senjart#MORE OF LADY'S EXPERIMENTS GONE WRONG#WHO UP ULFSTEADING THEIR CASTLE#stuff for the kotr arc of casa tidmouth. now this is where gold dust has historical significance#going crazy right now. my friends are influencing me#I had 12 tabs opened just to draw young glynn's armor. they dont have plated armory in the 10th century!!!! only mails!!!!!!#(looking at you KOTR intro)#I remember reading some inputs on my 1k milestone poll and saw someone put ''the misery of growing old'' and honestly. Checks out#glynn's eyes are goldish brown because well. that's the perks of being the first bearer of the gold dust horrors#lady during 989 AD do not know anything about human thoughts and ethics and emotions. she was literally freestyling that!!!!!#Oh a wounded soldier on the verge of death. what if I *dumps 200 kg of gold dust on him* yeah that'll do the trick.#then she saw how glynn aged so so slowly and went Oh well I messed up. Good thing there are lots of other sudrians here#funny coincidence that young cstm glynn's helmet resembles canon glynn's funnel#I wanted to make millie's design resemble a tour guide more with her scarf and more stylish than usual tie#shes so pretty. I'm so proud of her design#(AND I REALIZED TOO LATE THAT HER TIE HAS THE COLORS OF THE FRENCH FLAG)#<--- said the guy who has beef with the french#stephen's crown is translated to a hat decor! was about to draw a top hat but whatever just imagine he has a collection of various hats#that he can put his crown on#also I want to give him that cool hip-with-the-kids I-am-still-young-at-heart energy#sir robert norramby is balling in the background.#hope you enjoy..... won't be able to draw as much from now on but I'm excited#also whos ready for old man yaoi........... 2!!!!!!
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bootyful-seventeen · 3 months
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I am heavily contemplating on buying myself a dvd player soon and buying all the DVDs for a ton of movies and tv shows I grew up watching cuz I miss the magic of dvds
#hear me out on this one okay. but the Barbie movies were magic on dvd back in the day#and I do wanna see if stores are still selling the old strawberry shortcake dvds before I go online for those#I wanna snort that nostalgia so bad#and of course I’ll need to get the dcau on dvd#like all of it cuz I’m so bored with the dccu since we don’t get as much new stuff#it’s always Batman or superman and love them but I’m kinda bored from always seeing a new bman or sups movie#Wonder Woman I wouldn’t mind a new actor for her but I know she’s not gonna be a muscle mommy which I’ll be sad about#give me a Wonder Woman that is built like rhea ripely god damnit#the flash is eh cuz I found out this whole time I’ve been watching the Wally west flash#but yeah Wally is who I want and then there’s the green lantern like dude is so cool iams all we have is the 1 from 2011 I think#sure I could watch some of the tv series they have but I have too many shows on my watch list it’s overwhelming at times so I skip over lots#tho I will have to pray like crazy cuz some of the things I know I want are probably gonna be expensive as fuck even as second hand#saw a class of the titans season 1 dvd going for $81 cad 💀💀💀#the world is not kind to those who don’t love the digital age#I prefers my dvds cuz I own it and no one can take it away from me unless they physically steal it#omg I’m turning into my grandma cuz she still had the vhs player with some tapes too#just wish she never donated the tapes for swan princess 1-3 and Anastasia and ferngully and basically all my faves that she owned#like Ngl a part of me wants to hit up value village just to see if maybe they’re still there or if I’ll find other copies of the same things#cuz a perk about cities with older people is that you get so much older tech and other items it’s insane
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metagalacticx · 1 year
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i’m watching beef is anyone else watching beef
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melissa-titanium · 8 months
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GOD therseomuch shit to do i thought id have time today to DO stuff. its the fucking weekend why do ihave to do 2 classes and go outside and literally do something for school . the weekDAYS are always busy i havent had a free moment since i fucking joined
#mel roars#and i forgot to clean cicis fucking litter#like forgot as in for nearly a week#everyone always asks why im never getting another fucking pet THAT is why#because if i cant take care of it then all thats gonna happen is its going to suffer under my care#i have so much fucking due art SO many people messaging me i was LITERALLY going to delete my toyhouse account 2 days ago just to fucking#have a moment of relief#ITS NOT EVEN THAT BAD ACTUALLY. this ius normal for so many people to balance their social lives and school and work and shit but i CANT#i cant adhere to a schedule ill lose my fucking mind#i was miserable at my dads but god if it wasnt awesome to Have Free Time#i guess not talking to human beings or going outside for 2 straight years had its Perks#im so fucking sorry to everyone who has to deal with me i am SINCERELY so fucking sorry#i want to do so much stuff with so many people but its always Oh sorry i had to do something :( Sorry i cant do it today Sorry im not free#Sorry sorry sorry SORRY FUCKKKKKKK FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK WHY CANT I ACTUALLY JUST DO SOMETHING WORTHWHILE#ITS ALWAYS APOLOGIES AND YET??? NOTHING EVER CHANGES???????#and everyone knows this. every single person i have ever spoken to knos im a fucking shit at keeping promises or apologies and it SUCKS it#fucking sucks. can some one take me into their garage and put me down Please#pleas eplease pleasePLEAePLEASAE PLEASE i cant take it anymore fucking help me#i just need SOME one to tell me Directly that i am doing things wrong that im UPSETTING them because i KNOW I AM but i also DONT#unless i recieve it directly from them. god . pleasae. can someone just tell me to shut the fuck up alreasdy
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So there are some perks to living in a tourist destination. There are a lot of detractors mostly that you cannot shoot the tourists because you rely on them for your income but you have a semi captive audience with no context for any of the bullshit you spew. You can tell these people anything and they will believe you, the trusted friendly local. Now this is a very much Spider-Man situation where Great Power begets Great Audacity and even worse Responsibility.
My buddy goes on a run and when hes done there is a bar near a creek. So he wades into the creek because the day is hot and the water is cold.
Tourists ask what hes up to, with his running stuff he didn't want wet piled on the shore and him very obviously cooling off in the water. He says he's fishing.
But now here is why I am telling you this story. The universe occasionally aligns in such a way that we get to really really fuck with people and their perception of said universe. The opportunities do not come often and when they come you must seize the day. This is what my buddy did.
So this Creek runs through town and as a result of the highway and neighborhoods and culverts and roads it does not have a great salmon run. It's a short Creek the headwaters are only a few miles from the ocean it never had a great salmon run to begin with. But there are salmon.
One such fish brushes past my buddy's leg. Immediately he knees the fish like he is juggling a soccer ball and pops it out of the water, then slaps it out of the air on to the shore.
This is dumb luck. He could not do this again if he spent years training. Noodling (catching fish with your hands) is a thing that is legal to do with salmon but it is so much harder than literally every other way to catch salmon, including grabbing them with a garbage can. What he just managed is the kind of thing that should make you want to grab the fish and swing it around your head like a stripper with her panties off.
But,
He has an audience.
This is the opportunity offered by the universe.
He plays it cool.
He puts on dead pan straight face on and wades up to shore to grab his fish and nod to the tourists. Someone asks something and he assures them this is the standard way to get a quick dinner here. The tour guide has caught up with his group. He looks at my buddy and his fish and the general lack of fishing accoutrement. Without missing a beat, the guide backs up every ounce of bullshit out of my buddys mouth because if there is one true fraternity it is locals bullshitting stupid tourists.
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.
The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.
“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.
“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”
“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.
“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”
“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”
“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”
“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.
“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.
“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”
“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”
“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.
“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.
“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.
“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.
“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.
“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.
“How old were you??” Duke asked.
“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”
“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”
“Sure?”
“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.
“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.
“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.
Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.
Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.
"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.
"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.
"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.
"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.
"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.
"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"
"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."
"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.
"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.
"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.
"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.
"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.
"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.
"Red Hood's signature."
The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.
"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.
...
...
...
The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.
"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.
"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"
"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.
"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."
"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.
"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."
Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.
"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.
"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"
"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.
"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."
"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"
"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"
"What's wrong with that?"
Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."
"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.
Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"
"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."
Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.
Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.
Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.
"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."
Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.
"You won't have to leave."
"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.
"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.
"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.
"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.
Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.
After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.
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fairymosh · 10 months
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omg
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alastorss · 3 months
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Hi! I hope you're having a good day! I've been thinking, how would Alastor react to the reader casually saying stuff like "I like your laugh, it's nice," and "You voice is really soothing," out of the blue.
a/n: oh i loooooved writing this ^ ^ he would 100% be the type to try and hide that he actually likes the compliments but fail miserably. thank you and i hope you like this!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
You'd like to say you know everything about Alastor, but that's far from the truth.
You know his mother's jambalaya recipe, sure, and that he takes his coffee black. You've memorized the intro of his morning broadcast, and learned the feeling of his chin propped on your shoulder.
There are pieces of Alastor you know like the back of your hand, but somehow you've never even scratched the surface of deciphering him. He was just like that, you suppose—an enigma wrapped in another mystery that would take a lifetime to unravel.
The only thing he liked more than his secrets was keeping them, after all.
And he especially enjoyed toying with you—dangling little tidbits of trivia about him in front of your face and snatching it away when you inevitably took the bait. He'd laugh about it, too, saying you were so adorable for trying.
For some time you had hypothesized that his ears were a good way of gauging his real thoughts about matters, but he was irritatingly good at controlling those as well. Not even the slightest twitch to give away his inner monologue.
"You are so annoying, you know that?" You once told him while brushing your teeth, words coming out muffled from your toothbrush. Minty foam gathered at your mouth while you glared at him through the reflection in the mirror.
He only laughed, as he always did, and propped his chin on your shoulder.
"How rude!" He chastised you playfully.
You leaned down to rinse your mouth. "I'm just saying," you muttered after standing tall again, "I wish I knew what was going through that head of yours sometimes."
Unsurprisingly, Alastor's expression was unreadable.
He opted to bite your cheek and walk away from the conversation after that, not bothering to enlighten you even slightly.
You watched him from across the bathroom, eyeing the way his shadow danced around him with a mind of its own before it disappeared into the darkness.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
His downfall began with a comment you made after you ended up falling asleep with your head on his shoulder.
He had been reading the latest article about the Vees to you out loud, practically singing his amusement with how terrible this column had painted out Vox to be. With fame came criticism, of course, and Alastor would happily sit there and criticize Vox all day if he could.
Your head hit his shoulder quick and he sighed, ears perking at the familiar sound of your slowing breaths. (He didn't bother waking you. It's not like he had much else to do at the time.)
"Your voice is so soothing," you shrugged when you finally awoke. "The static is like... comforting white noise for me, or something."
'Or something?' he wanted to ask.
He didn't, because he didn't really care for an explanation further than that. (He definitely didn't avoid prying because he felt something warm in his chest knowing you thought that way about him.)
It kept happening after that, as much as he wishes it didn't.
Little comments you slid into conversation so casually—tiny compliments and teases that drove him up the wall. They were softening him up, flattering him in dangerous ways.
The demon felt his sanity wearing thin with each passing day, making tremendous efforts to hide the way your slips made him warm.
He's sure he is about to crack. At any moment, his ears will flick or his cheeks will cherub with genuine joy because you can't keep your words to yourself. But he's done well for himself thus far, pat on the back, for not gratifying you.
He mentally groans when you join him at the bar, eyeing his drink. "It's the middle of the day," you point out.
"And you've come to scold me?" He tuts.
"I've come to join you, actually."
Alastor chuckles, voice missing it's usual static filter. He reaches over to pour you a glass when you smile at him.
"You have a nice laugh."
He nearly shatters the glass in his hands.
You snicker quietly, leaning over the bar to creep under his face which is scrunched up in concentration.
"What's wrong? I like your laugh, you should do it more!"
Taking a deep breath, the Radio Demon reaches over to pinch your nose. You yelp and jerk away from him, glaring.
"Flattery will get you nowhere~" he sings.
Your head tilts to the side in confusion. There's a smugness to your gaze that makes him feel like a trapped animal, and he realizes that you've known all along what you've done to him.
"Oh, but I think it does," you laugh, nodding to his shadow burned into the floor.
Its smile is uncharacteristically soft, missing all semblance of its usual fangs and sharp edges. Howling in embarrassment, the shadow dives away, abandoning its owner to confront you alone.
All this time, his shadow had been the one betraying him. Through all the times he had forced his ears to stay rigid, with all the effort to maintain his mask of indifference, you'd seen where he had overlooked.
His jaw clenches so hard he can feel his teeth grinding into each other. "You are perceptive, my dear."
"No," you giggle. "You're just bad at hiding how you feel. I think it's cute."
Alastor glowers at you, but his ears flop back and forth atop his head at your praise anyway.
~
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dearaceofhearts · 26 days
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you walk out after an argument
characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. anyways i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is
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♡ husk
when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.
in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.
but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.
his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.
husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.
when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."
husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.
"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.
you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."
♡ alastor
"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.
when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"
he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.
alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.
so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?
he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.
...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.
one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.
"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.
upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.
"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.
"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.
♡ angel dust
his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.
despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.
while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.
he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.
one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.
but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?
after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.
he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.
he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"
the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.
it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.
♡ vox
he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.
(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).
(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).
his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.
he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.
and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.
all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.
"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.
his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.
meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."
vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"
"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.
it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.
"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.
"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.
suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.
♡ lucifer
he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.
all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—
he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.
most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.
thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.
"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."
you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."
his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.
after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.
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© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!
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mellowwillowy · 7 months
Text
Yan! Hacker × GN Reader , drabble
—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕
Yan! Hacker who jerks off to the live video of you touching yourself while watching some porn from the website. You should have unplugged the webcam from your PC darling, you never know who is currently watching you through it right?
Yan! Hacker who knows just what kind of videos you enjoy watching. He has your whole browser history, including the porn sites you visit every time you feel sexually frustrated.
Yan! Hacker who does feel a pang of guilt for doing these to you, tapping and hacking all your stuff just to satiate his needs. Oh gosh, look at you wearing that flimsy shirt, he can see your nipples perking through!
Yan! Hacker who wishes he could just visit you and rail you dumb just like what the people are doing in the video. You really like vocal men huh? As much as he is the silent type, he could try grunting or letting his moans slip if you'd just let him slip his cock inside you!
Yan! Hacker who has everything on record, the video of you touching yourself including the audio where you are whimpering at your own touch. Oh, you look so ravishing and adorable! He feels the need to blackmail you just to see your face pale up for fun but that would be a boomerang for him because you'd shut yourself.
Yan! Hacker who won't stop jerking off even though you are long wasted already. No, he still wants more. The old recordings could help him while he watches you sleep, pleased after your previous masturbation.
Yan! Hacker who zooms the video until it's pixelated just to get a close-up of your sleeping figure, his tip smearing the screen with his precum as his hand pumps his shaft fastly, audio of you moaning playing in his headset.
Yan! Hacker who wishes he could just fuck your mouth as you dazed away in your sleep. His hand will play with your nipple while the other hand strokes your hair, he knows you like it when people stroke your hair after all.
Yan! Hacker who trembles as he thinks of the audio playing in his headset as you moan into his ears, his hand as your hand, and the video as you yourself.
"Fucking take it all..."
Yan! Hacker who cums right into the screen, he'll clean the mess later but for now, he wants you all to himself virtually. He will play another video of you, this time in a different setting. Just how many hidden cameras has he set inside your place?
Yan! Hacker who contemplates whether he should just make things easier by confessing to you or keep things as it is. It's not like he doesn't have a chance, judging by how you hump the pillow while moaning his name out.
'Seth, Seth...'
Yan! Hacker who will for sure fuck you dumb the moment the two of you become official. The bed will be creaking until the sun rises and you'll need to change your bedsheet again unless you want to sleep on a damp, smelly bed. As much as he'd like to just fuck you raw, he's still considerate enough to slip on the condom from future problems.
"God, what the fuck are you Seth? A stallion? We've been doing this for hours!" You yelled at him while you stuff your mouth with your pillow, his cock hammering into you with his hand spanking your ass every once in a while.
"I'm no stuck in like you said," right, you once teased him for being a disgusting otaku back when the two of you were transmigrated into that damn game, "seems like you are the hikikomori here? How adorable ♡"
Yan! Hacker might not look like it but he's actually a fit figure, not to mention one of his favorite sports being basketball because of his friend.
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soaps-mohawk · 4 months
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language
Summary: You get something to aid you in your attempts to bond with your pack. Unfortunately, your ideas have consequences for everyone.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, some brief violent imagery but nothing worse than what's in the game, lots of military inaccuracies
Author's Note: Did you know there’s Scottish translators online? I do now lmaooo. Those military inaccuracies are really coming through in this one so...if you’re here for accuracy...I am so sorry. This one's a bit shorter, more of a filler for the next one but there's some important stuff that happens that you'll need for the next chapter. Also a lot of good ole easter eggs and references in this one. If you can find them all, I’ll give you a cookie. 
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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You perk up when a knock sounds at your door. You hop off your bed, eagerly swinging the door open. Price is standing there, a package in his hands. The corner of his mouth twitches as you smile, almost bouncing on your toes in excitement. 
“Kate said you’d be expecting this.” He says, amusement shining in his eyes. 
You nod, holding out your hands. “Yes, sir!” 
You take the package, holding it against your chest. You had sworn Kate to secrecy about what was in it, after a long explanation of why you needed it and why you were asking her for it and not Price. She said she threw in a few other things, things you didn’t realize you’d miss once you moved to the UK. You knew she likely did that so she wouldn’t have to lie to Price when he asked.
“Don’t have too much fun.” He says, giving you a smile. 
“I’ll try not to.” You grin. “Thank you, sir!” 
You close the door, not bothering to lock it as you bound back to your bed. You open the package, digging through the snacks to the bottom of the box. You move the box to the floor, holding the book in your lap. You run your hand over the cover, excitement thrumming through you. 
“The Powerful Omega.” 
You’ve spent the last few days running through what you remembered from the book the last time you read it almost four years ago. There wasn’t much, only a few things sticking with you. Things you thought would be helpful. 
You curl up on your bed as the others head out for the afternoon, the familiar sound of boots disappearing down the hallway fading into the background as you dig into the book. You’re determined to find some way to get Ghost to at least be tolerant of your presence. You don’t need him to want you, you don’t even need him to like you. You just know the entire process will be easier if he’s at least accepting of the fact you’re going to be part of the pack, whether either of you like it or not. 
That was long before you knew you’d be placed in a military pack, though. 
He’s a big, tough, military alpha who doesn’t like to show his face. There has to be something in the book that might help you, or at least give you ideas on what to try. You know the best you can do with Ghost is try. He’s an enigma on purpose, and it seems like he’s going to stay that way, regardless of how close you try and get to him. 
You could use Soap to get close to him. Ghost’s protective aura practically envelopes Soap whenever they’re in close proximity, laying a claim without even having to touch one another. You know getting close to Soap could force Ghost to get comfortable with you, or it might make him more territorial.
But that scene at breakfast a few days ago, when he’d gotten defensive over that soldier staring in your direction. 
You let out an exasperated sigh, opening the book. “Alphas are so infuriating for literally no reason.” You murmur to yourself. 
You read until another knock sounds at the door, signaling lunch. You use your note pages as a bookmark, stuffing the book into the back of your underwear drawer before opening the door. 
“Hungry, pup?” Price greets you as he usually does when he’s escorting you to a meal. 
You nod, stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Always, sir.” 
Like most omegas, you have a healthy appetite. It always gets bigger close to your heat, and you never quite feel satisfied and full during that time. You wonder how you’re going to manage on a military base with such a rigid schedule. There’s always snacks in the rec room, but you’re going to need a lot more than chips and protein drinks to keep you happy when the time comes. 
You follow Price to the mess, his arm brushing yours as you walk. You’ve noticed them getting closer to you over the past few days, at least in the literal sense. It started with Soap and Gaz. They walk closer to you, sit closer to you. When you join them in the evenings in the rec room they’ve started putting you between them. Price has now started getting closer, walking closer to you, standing closer to you, often looming behind you like a shadow. 
Ghost is the only one who hasn’t changed much, still regarding you with disinterest and speaking shortly to you when you’re forced to interact. 
“Don’t worry about ‘im lass. He'll warm up tae ye.” Soap had reassured you after a rather cold shoulder from Ghost. 
You’re not entirely sure that’s possible. You’re determined to at least try to get on amicable terms with him, and you’re hopeful the book will help with that. Even if he’s nothing more than just another alpha in your pack, if you can get him to stop being so icy around you, perhaps you’ll be able to settle in better. 
And maybe you’ll be able to fix your lack of instincts. 
Dr. Keller said there was nothing wrong with your lack of instincts at this point in the transition, but everything you had learned at The Institute goes against what she said. You’re an omega. Your job is to be obedient, to serve your pack, and follow your alpha’s commands. Good omegas do what’s asked of them without question, putting their trust in their alpha. No one knows what’s best for you like your alpha. 
Your alpha hasn’t asked much of anything of you. 
You don’t know how to feel about that. 
“I’m startin’ tae think that sandwich insulted ye, lass.” 
Soap’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You have been sitting and staring at your sandwich for a while, lost in your thoughts. It’s not a terrible sandwich by any means, certainly better than the ones you got at The Institute. 
They’re all staring at you, four pairs of eyes watching you. You’ve barely touched your plate, and you hardly remember going through the line. 
You shake your head, picking up your fork to poke at whatever mushy vegetable Price had added to your tray. “No, it’s fine. I was just lost in thought.” 
“‘Bout what?” Soap asks, taking a bite of his own sandwich. 
You shrug. “Just something Dr. Keller said.” 
“Ah, omega secrets then.” Soap grins. “I’ve heard rumors that omegas know the true meaning of the universe.” 
“Yeah, it’s 42.” You say, earning a chuckle from Price. 
If you hadn’t been looking, you wouldn’t have noticed the shift in Ghost’s shoulders, the slight softening of his gaze for a moment as he stares at his own sandwich. 
He's laughing at you again. 
He’s an enigma, a confusing presence in your life. You have no choice but to have him in your life, just as he has no choice but to have you in his life. 
You finish your food quickly, wanting to get back to the book. You’ve already got some ideas floating around from it, things that might help you ease into their world a bit more. 
Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, the area between the two buildings more crowded than usual. You both slow a bit as a whistle sounds through the air, your head turning as a rather crude comment reaches your ears. 
“Ignore them.” Gaz says, putting a hand on your back. “Bunch of cocksure alphas. They’re always rowdy after the weekend. They go out, surround themselves with omega barrack bunnies, make themselves feel important.” 
“Have you...been with a barrack bunny?” You ask hesitantly, mostly out of curiosity. You know they likely have. They've had their entire lives they've been able to dictate for themselves. 
“Not since joining the team.” He answers honestly. “None of us have. We don’t usually have the time, or the need. We have each other now.”
And now they have you.
“Do they, the other soldiers...do they know why I’m here?” You find yourself asking as you enter the barracks. 
“Not specifically.” Gaz says. “Most of what we do is classified, even to them. I think some of them have begun to put two and two together. And before too long, they’ll be able to figure it out.” He says, giving you a look as you stop in front of your door. 
“Yeah...” You say softly, your stomach churning nervously at the thought of your approaching heat. There’s still quite a bit of time before then, but you don’t feel ready. You don’t feel ready to spend a heat with an alpha, you don’t feel ready to be claimed. 
“Don’t worry too much.” He says, pressing his finger between your brows like he might be able to smooth out the frown that’s formed between them. “Price will take good care of you. Besides, we’ve got plenty of time to work out the kinks.” He chucks you under the chin gently before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your rapidly warming cheek. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” 
You still feel a bit like you’re floating as you close your door behind you. Your face is warm, not just from the forwardness of Gaz’s actions but also his words. You let out a quiet sound as you fan your face, trying desperately not to think about how soft his lips are, how easily he had ignited a fire within you with some words and a simple touch. 
Gaz is trouble, you think as you pull out the book again, settling down at your desk to read. 
You open the book, starting at the next section. 
Bonding With Your Pack. 
This is what you need, ideas on how to do exactly that. Even though you’re already beginning to feel close to Soap and Gaz, you still feel as if there’s a chasm keeping you from Price, and an ocean between you and Ghost. You just need something, anything that will start building that rope bridge and maybe a boat. 
Learn To Speak Their Language. 
You pause at the chapter title, pulling out the notebook you’ve been taking notes in. 
“As much as we want to think it can be, not everything can be about us all the time. Just like in any relationship, we have to put effort into others as well. If you find yourself struggling to connect with your alpha, the first step is to figure out something they’re interested in. Sports? Video Games? Food? Get to know your alpha, and make it a point to learn about something they’re interested in. Learn to speak their language.” 
You read the passage thrice over, the realization dawning on you. You knew from the beginning that getting them to adapt to you was not going to be possible. You were going to have to adapt yourself to fit into their lives. Their lives of fighting and war and violence and guns. 
An idea begins to form in your head as you brainstorm, scribbling page after page of notes. It’s not perfect, but you’re in no rush to perfect it. After all, you’ve got nothing but time.
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You sit next to Soap at breakfast, close enough his arm is brushing yours. You wish you could see Ghost’s face, or, well, his eyes at least. 
“So what do you guys do between breakfast and lunch?” You ask, all four of them pausing as they look at you. You continue to eat, pretending not to notice their looks. You know mornings are for their workouts before breakfast, but what they do between meals is almost entirely unknown to you. You assume it’s some sort of training, maybe meetings and briefings. 
“Training, usually.” Price answers after a moment. “Running simulations, training courses, weapons training, hand-to-hand. Keeps our skills sharp. Today they’re running a routine course to make sure they’re not getting lazy in our time off.” 
“Can I come?” You ask, their gazes snapping to you again. “To watch? I’m getting kind of bored sitting around.” 
Price’s gaze burns into you as you meet it, not looking away despite the tickling at the back of your neck telling you to yield. Tough alphas like a challenge, the book said. Don’t back down, even when you want to. 
“I don’t see why not.” He finally says, picking up his cup of coffee. “Give these muppets another reason to compete with each other.” 
The table erupts in chaos as Gaz and Soap immediately start betting with each other. You can’t help but smile, used to their bickering and competitiveness after spending time with them doing literally anything together. 
This is certainly going to be interesting, if nothing else. 
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“There’s two rules for you being here.” Price says as you walk with him down a line of hangars. “You do everything I say, and stick close to me. They’ll be using live rounds, and the last thing we need is you catching a stray bullet in some freak accident.” 
“Sir, yes, sir!” You say, saluting him. 
He stares down at you for a moment, amusement shining in his eyes. “Cute.” He leads you into the hangar, a sort of building made out of plywood set up inside. “Over here.” He leads you to where a sort of command center is set up. 
There’s screens showing feeds from cameras set up inside the mock building, a timer and an intercom system set up. You look it over in amazement, Price coming to stand next to you. 
“How does it work?” You ask. 
“They enter there.” He points to what you assume represents the front door. “Work their way through both levels to clear the house.There’s targets in some rooms that pop up when certain pressure triggers are hit on the floor. Hit every target, clear the house, exit there,” He points at a spot on the side of the house in front of where you’re standing. “And reach that red line in 60 seconds.” 
You blink in surprise. “How fast can they do it?” 
“Gaz holds the record currently at 19 seconds, Ghost in second at 19.5, and Soap at 20.5.” He says. 
“Wow.” You say under your breath, looking over the cameras again. “I’m not sure I could even think that fast.” 
Price chuckles. “I wouldn’t expect you to be able to, sweetheart. We’ve had years and years of training and experience. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He says, heading back down the steps to where the others have gathered, wearing light gear. 
It’s not the first time you’ve seen them all geared up, but the change is always palpable. Gone are the laid back betas and alpha, and instead they’ve shifted into battle-hardened soldiers. It’s almost mesmerizing how easily they can shift between the two. 
And you can hardly handle your instincts getting a little twitchy. 
Price joins you again, turning on the intercom system. “Alright Gaz, at my go sweep the house and clear the rooms.” You hold your breath as Price pauses, Gaz in place at the front door. “Go, go, go!” Price says, the timer starting as Gaz enters the house. 
You watch on the cameras as he goes through the lower levels, jumping slightly as the first gunshots echo through the hangar. They’re louder than you had expected, even with the hangar doors opened partway. You feel a bit anxious as you watch the time and his progress, almost as if you’re watching an intense movie. 
17...18...19...
Gaz slips through the side door, racing for the red line marking the end. You stare at the timer as Price hits the stop button. Twenty one seconds. You wonder how often they don’t meet their previous records, or if their break really is having that much of an effect on them. You hear Gaz curse quietly as he passes, heading back to stand by Soap as Ghost gets ready at the start. 
The nervous anticipation doesn't lessen any as Ghost makes his way through the house, moving swiftly and silently as he always seemed to do. For such a large being he can move so quietly with an ease unlike you’ve ever seen. 
You watch the timer as he crosses the red line. 21.9. 
You catch a whiff of his scent as he passes, the hint of ozone burning your nose. He’s frustrated. They have to know they’re not performing as well as they know they can. Part of you wonders if it’s your fault they’re not even meeting their best times. 
Soap is up last, moving with an ease and focus that you’re not entirely surprised he’s capable of. Though he tends to be the most lighthearted of the four, and the most unserious, he made it on the team for a reason. 
Again you watch the timer, still held at rapt attention in the intensity of the moment as he crosses the red line. 25. He lets out a loud string of curses, most of which you don’t understand as he moves back to the start. 
“Wait here.” Price says before descending back down the steps. 
You’ve seen the change in him as well, a bit more subtle as he always seemed to be in the Captain mindset to some degree. You wonder if he’s ever not the Captain, if there’s a time where he gets to just be John Price. You wonder what he’s like when he doesn’t have the weight of his responsibility constantly on his shoulders. You wonder when the last time he got to let go like that was. 
“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” You say as he joins you once more. You’re beginning to think maybe you made a mistake in asking to come along. 
“Most likely.” He says, resetting the timer. “But that’s something we need to know. This is the new normal. They need to learn to work through it.” 
Especially if it’s you they’re trying to get to. 
You knew there was a risk. Just being associated with them puts you at risk. They’re hidden, anonymous, deeply classified for a reason. You’d gotten that briefing during your time training with the CIA, after Laswell had told you where you would be going. Just knowing their names, who they are, where their home base is, is enough to put you in danger. You were hidden just as much as they were now, your entire existence now hidden beneath layers of security clearance. 
You could still be a target, if anyone found out. They might think you have information, details about their missions, about the things they do. 
The likelihood of that happening was low, but never zero. There was still risk involved in being around them, a risk you were assigned to take. It was your duty, though, as an omega. Do what you’re told, go where you’re sent, follow your alpha without question. 
Institutes really are like the military, you think. Only you’re fighting a different battle than they are.
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You’re seated on the couch in your usual spot, curled up with a book. Your pack was having some downtime as Price had an emergency meeting he had to attend. Your heart had jumped a bit at the news, at the thought that they might be pulled away early. They weren’t supposed to get called off on a mission until after your next heat to allow for the adjustment and claiming, but if they were needed...they could be called away before then. 
So you’d settled in with a book in the rec room to try and calm your nervous energy. 
“Mind if I join ye?” 
You look up as Soap enters the rec room, a smile on his face. “No, go ahead.” You offer a smile back. 
He joins you on the couch, lifting your legs over his lap. You flush a bit at the bold move, but you were growing used to his boldness. “What are ye readin’?” 
“‘Lord of the Flies.’” You say, holding up the cover. 
“Did ye finish the other one already?” He asks in astonishment. 
“I’ve already read two books since I got here.” You say, laughing a little. 
“Och, yer a bright wee lamb, aren’t ye?” He chuckles. “Ye like tae read?” 
You nod. “Yeah. It’s good for passing the time.” 
He hums, grabbing the remote. “Ghost likes tae read too. Dinnae tell him I told ye that.” He holds up the remote. “Ye mind?” 
You shake your head. “No, go ahead.” 
He turns on the TV, keeping the volume low as he sits with you. His hand is warm where it rests on your calf, his thumb absentmindedly stroking circles over the fabric. You try to focus on the book but you can’t help the fluttering in your stomach at the proximity of the beta. You keep catching whiffs of his scent, and you’re beginning to feel an urge to ask him  about Ghost. If anyone can give you answers, it’ll be Soap. 
“Soap?” You ask, closing your book. 
He hums, turning to look at you. You stare into those bright blue eyes, your heart fluttering a bit. His eyes are so warm and expressive, shining with something you can’t quite put a name to. 
“Does Ghost...hate me?” You ask quietly, knowing with your luck as soon as you start the conversation, the man in question would appear out of nowhere. 
Soap’s lips tug up into a smile, a quiet chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Nae, lass. He doesnae hate ye. Ghost is...” He makes a face, trying to find the right words. “Ghost is very guarded.” 
He slips his arms around you, lifting you into his lap. You let out a quiet sound in surprise, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders out of instinct. His arms wrap around you, his tactical vest digging into your side a bit, but you’re too focused on the sudden proximity to really care. 
“He's no an easy man tae get close tae.” He continues. “I know. Couldnae stand me when we first met. I broke him down, proved myself. We spent enough time together, and that bond just formed naturally.” 
“He sees me as a threat.” You say, voicing the opinion you’ve been coming to over the last few days. 
“I wouldnae say a threat.” Soap grins, his hand squeezing your side. “A wee yin like ye. He just needs time tae adjust. He's gonnae dae it in his own way.” 
“I don’t even need him to really like me.” You say, tracing the Union Jack on the front of Soap’s vest. “I just need him to tolerate me.” 
“This is him tolerating ye.” Soap deadpans. 
You give him a look. “Well he’s got a funny way of showing it then.” 
Soap chuckles, the sound vibrating through your body. “Nah, dinnae worry too much about him, hen.” 
You hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re right. It’s Captain Price I need to worry about.” 
“I dinnae think ye need tae worry too much there either.” Soap grins. “The Cap’n is head over heels for ye already.” 
You give him a look of disbelief, eyebrows raising. “What?” 
Soap nods. “Oh aye, I havenae seen him smile this much in all the time I’ve known him.” 
You continue to stare in disbelief. You knew Price at least tolerated the idea of you becoming his omega. He’s been nothing but polite, cordial even with you. In the traditional sense he’s already begun courting you, providing and protecting. You still have yet to move beyond the polite tiptoeing, even with how things have been shifting the last few days.
You have the beta’s approval, which you know is an important step in pack formation. 
You bite your lip, your fingers curling around the edge of his vest. “You really think he...” 
“Mhm.” Soap nods. “Cannae blame him, pretty omega like ye strutting around the base.” 
He’s getting closer to you. You can’t do anything but stay still as his face lowers towards yours. Your stomach is fluttering, but you can’t tell if it’s nerves or excitement. His hand slides down your side, following the curve of your hip before it settles on your thigh. He’s so warm, his scent amplified with your close proximity. You feel a bit dizzy, your head spinning a bit. You understand now how betas can still win over both alphas and omegas. 
“We all feel lucky havin’ ye.” He says quietly, his breath fanning your face. His forehead presses against yours, so close to you your noses are brushing.
You wonder what Ghost would do if he walked in and saw you this close to his beta. Would your body fly through a window or a wall? Or would he tackle you, wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze until your head pops or your airway collapses? Or, was Soap right and he would do nothing? 
Or would he like it? 
The thought sends a shiver down your spine. Soap likes you, both of the betas in your new pack like you. It’s good, you know, having the approval of both betas, even though you don’t technically need both. Price could claim you with only his and Gaz’s approval, though it would be easier if all four approved. 
You wonder if Ghosts supposed tolerance of you is because of Soap. The alpha is very protective of his beta, though you don’t doubt Soap would go to bat for you if he needed to. 
He might have already. 
Soap hasn’t moved, both of you frozen where you are. He wants to kiss you, you think, your brain pulling up all the movies you’ve seen in your life. You’re gripping onto him tightly, your stomach fluttering. You’re nervous, unsure of how to move next. Do you let him kiss you? You’ve only been kissed once before, but that was hardly more than a childish peck on the lips. He wants to kiss you like they do in the movies. 
Will Soap be upset if you pull away? Will he force you back and take what he wants? There would be no stopping him. Even if the others were in the building, even if they heard you, would they come to your rescue? Or would they let it happen because it’s your purpose? What would Ghost do if he walked in and saw you? What would Price do? Would Price be upset that he wasn’t the first to kiss you? 
You are his claim after all. 
You slowly draw yourself back, removing your arm from around his shoulders as you turn slightly to face the TV. You hold your breath, not wanting to catch the souring of Soap’s scent, the tell that he was upset at your decision. You wait for his grip to tighten, for his body to force you back onto the couch. His hand moves from your thigh and you tense, waiting for the reprimanding to come, but instead he simply wraps his arms around your upper body again, holding you like he had been before. 
Your heart is still thudding in your chest as you quietly watch the TV, the silence in the room thick but not uncomfortable. You lean your head back on his shoulder, letting yourself relax into him. The almondy scent of beta is thick in the air, likely his doing to diffuse the tension he must be able to feel. 
“British TV is weird.” You say, trying to follow along with what’s going on, on the screen. 
Soap laughs, squeezing his arms around you for a moment. “Aye, it really is.” 
You continue to sit with him, letting his scent relax you. You’ve given up following what’s on the TV, his warmth and presence slowly lulling you until your eyes are drifting closed. 
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The scent permeates the air everywhere he goes. 
Caramel. Vanilla. Strawberries. 
No amount of scent blockers can keep it from seeping under his mask, permeating his senses. He’d spray the scent blocker up his nose if he thought it might work. You’re stinking up the base, his beta, his life. Even now he can smell it, the sweet cloud of your scent wafting through the halls. 
He can pick up the sharp tang of anxiety on the edge of it, a low growl rumbling through his chest in response. It burns his nose and he hates it. His boots are quiet on the tile floor as he makes for the rec room, following the cocktail of scents. Your pungent sweetness layered over Johnny’s warm spice. 
Images flash through his mind of what position he might find you both in. He can smell the musky undertones of Johnny’s desire in the air, a scent he’s very familiar with. He knows how much his beta wants the new omega that’s been forced on them. They don’t need an omega. He knows how much Price fought against it, but even the Captain has begun to fall under your intoxicating spell. 
You don’t even know you’re doing it. 
His hands curl into fists as he steps into the rec room. The TV is playing some daytime rerun, but his eyes are drawn to the couch. Johnny is fast asleep, his head leaning against yours. You’re asleep in his lap, hand under your cheek, resting against his chest. You’ll have imprints on your skin from your hand and his vest. Johnny’s arms are wrapped tight around you, looking more peaceful than he has in a while. 
He’s already comfortable enough to sleep with you. 
“MacTavish!” He snaps, startling both of you. 
The only thing that keeps you from flailing to the floor is Johnny’s quick reflexes, his grip tightening around you to keep you on his lap. Johnny blinks the sleep from his eyes, squinting up at him for a moment. 
“Let’s move.” He growls, turning and leaving the rec room. 
He refuses to look at you in your sleepy haze, not quite as quick to wake as Johnny. He doesn’t want to watch the way Johnny eases you to your feet, how small you look leaning against him as you grumble sleepily. He doesn’t want to watch as Johnny guides you to your door, easing you into the safety of your room while they leave to do their jobs. 
He hates the way he turns back to look as Johnny speaks quietly to you, those big, shiny puppy eyes staring up at him. He hates the churning in his stomach as you soften at Johnny’s kiss to your forehead, the way you watch Johnny walk down the hallway. Ghost opens the door for his beta, letting him out, but he can’t bring himself to move until he hears the click of the lock on your door sliding into place. 
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
Text
pillow princess
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words: 1.3k
warnings: 18+ only, male receiving oral, riding, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rafe calls reader kiddo/kid
“rafey.” you whine, stepping into all the chairs circled around, filled with topper, kelce and some other guys you recognize as rafes friends.
“what is it baby?” he questions, giving you his full attention despite all the boys sitting around. he doesn’t care that they see him being affectionate with you. its not like his manliness is in question.
“i miss you.” you complain. you were bored sitting upstairs in your bed all alone. you knew it was boys night. first they watched a game, then sat around and talked and drank, but you wanted your boyfriend, feeling extra clingy today.
“aww, come here kiddo.” rafe leans back, opening up his arms, letting you slot yourself onto his knee. you immediately lean your head against his shoulder, snuggling your body into his.
rafe holds you tight to him, fingers drumming against your thigh as the conversation immediately starts up again. you only pay half attention to it, most being about the game they just watched, or their max bench, whatever boy stuff they usually spend the time chatting about.
your ears perk up when the conversation changes to girlfriend and sex. “man, my girl rides me like a fucking jackrabbit.” one guy laughs, making your nose scrunch up.
the rest chime in, except for rafe. you're not sure if it's just because you're there or if he prefers to keep your sex life private.
“alright, boys.” rafe says. “better get going, my lady clearly needs me.”
you smile and blush, cheeks flaring. you bury your head in rafes shoulder as he says his goodbyes, his friends filling out the door. rafe makes sure it closes behind them before scooping you up, holding you in his arms, not even questioning if you want to be carried upstairs.
“rafe?” you hum as he sets you down on his bed. “you know i would ride you if you wanted it, right?”
rafe lets out a sudden laugh, confused by your question. “what brought this on baby?”
“just the guys… talking about their girlfriends riding them. i never do that for you.” you shrug. 
rafe shakes his head. “i don't mind that you’re a pillow princess.”
you gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. “i am not a pillow princess!”
rafe chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “you are, but its okay. i like being on top.”
“but-but-” you stammer. “i’m not!” “okay, wanna prove it?” rafe questions, a smirk still playing on his lips, knowing exactly what he's goading you into doing.
“take your clothes off.” you challenge back.
rafe tugs his shirt over his head before pulling at his pants. he undresses quickly, watching as you stand up off the bed to take your tanktop and shorts off. 
rafe climbs onto the bed once he’s stripped, leaning against the headboard with a lazy smile on his face. you blink at his dick, still mostly soft, resting against his thigh. usually rafe will eat you out or finger you and by the time you’re ready to fuck, he’s already hard.
“come on, show you’re not a pillow princess. get me hard.” rafe beckons you over.
you finish taking off your underwear before climbing onto the bed, kneeling between his legs. you reach for his cock, taking it in your hand, starting to stroke it as you watch with fascination as he hardens right under your fingertips.
“gonna suck me off too?” rafe questions.
“maybe.” you hum. you bend down, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, suckingling as your hand continues to stroke most of his length.
you work him until he’s completely hard before letting your mouth sink lower, taking as much as you comfortably can before setting a pace of moving back to just have the tip in your mouth to taking him fully.
“such a good girl.” rafe coos, placing a hand on the back of your head, but he doesn’t force you down, doesn’t help your movements. he lets you take control like you swore you could do.
you reach down between your legs as you suck him off. you’re a little wet, but it’s nothing like when rafe fingers you before sex, so you rub your clit as you flick your tongue over his length, his moans reaching your ears.
you pull off of his cock with a pop, already feeling tired of being in control. you wish rafe would have pushed himself down your throat, showed you just how he liked it, but he just watches you as you climb onto his lap.
you stroke his cock a few more times as you position yourself properly, hovering your cunt over his dick before slowly sinking down, letting out a moan as he fills you up, stretching slightly more than usual without as much prep. 
“it feels different from this angle.” you admit, looking shyly down as you sit on rafes fat cock. you feel it twitch inside you, and you know he’s desperate for you to move from the strained look on his face.
you begin to bounce, placing your hands on his chest. you wish he would grab your waist or your ass, helping you move on his length, but he leaves it up to you as you grind your cunt down.
you already feel your legs beginning to get sore, your muscles not used to this type of motion as you already begin to slow down, ashamed at how fast you are ready to give up, so you try to power through, but to no avail.
“fine.” you give up. “i’m a pillow princess.”
rafe flips you over suddenly, pressing your back into the mattress. “i told you so. should have just listened to me, kid.”
you whine as you wrap your legs around his waist as rafe begins to thrust. “i just like this better.” you don’t want to admit that you got exhausted after a minute of writing, and you really do like rafe on top of you better, his hair falling around his forehead as he looks down at you.
“you’re so pretty baby, i don’t care that i have to do all the work.” rafe says as he pumps into you. “not when your pussy is this tight.”
you grab at rafes shoulders, pulling him down into you so you can press your lips together. rafe grabs your tit with one of his hands, keeping the other around your waist as he kisses you, tongue pushing inside of your mouth as another show of his dominance. 
“gonna cum inside me?” you question.
“of course im gonna baby girl.” rafe says, sealing his promise with a kiss as he begins to move faster, digging deeper into your cunt.
“please.” you whimper, wanting to feel rafe release inside of you. you scratch your fingernails lightly down his back, making him shiver as his cock suddenly pulses, spurts of cum shooting into you.
“oh fuck, baby.” rafe moans as you clench around him, purposely milking him.
rafe collapses to the side of you, slipping out of your cunt, leaving his cum to slide out of your pussy onto the bedsheets.
rafe breathes deeply for a minute while you also try to get your breath back before he turns on his side, kissing your jawline and neck as he brings his hand back towards your pussy, but you shut your legs, squeezing your thighs tightly to deny him.
“but you didn’t cum yet.” rafe says with a pout, feeling like he failed if he can’t get you off too.
“i’m too tired, don’t wanna.” you admit with a shrug, feeling satisfied without the orgasm.
rafe can’t help the small chuckle that leaves his mouth. “you’re too tired from riding me for like two minutes? and you tried to argue that you’re not a pillow princess?” “yeah, whatever.” you roll your eyes. “just cuddle me.”
rafe nods, pulling you in with his big arms, letting you snuggle into his chest. “i love you princess.”
the words warm you, making your cheeks blush, never getting tired of hearing him say those three words as you tip your head up, letting your lips ghost over his. “i love you too.”
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yvesntul · 17 days
Text
abby anderson x reader ୨୧ ♡
18+ minors dni, car sex, use of strap, pet names, lowk a breeding kink + reader is pretty hyper feminine in this take it or leave it cs idc ..
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‘ look so gorgeous like this, this what you wanted ? ‘ she kept her eyes fixated onto your body, watching the way you struggled to bounce on her dick, urging to fuck up into you, but she only observed. ‘ feels so good. ' you nodded at her question, panting on low breaths and giving in all your effort. the friction of her strap against her from your movements made you earn a hiss from her as she tossed her head back onto the head rest. her hands roamed all over your body, your thighs, your waist, your perked tits that spilled out of your skimpy shirt, to the fat of your ass.
she latched her mouth onto one of your pebbled nipples, sucking and swirling as the quietest whimpers escaped your mouth ever so often. you pink charmed nails digging into her chest, if there was a pain she liked, it was this. ‘ fuck i— i cant do it. ‘ you confessed, feeling the lack of movement you began to have as you looked at her worriedly. ‘ shh i’m right here, i got you, angel. ‘ she whispered before pecking your lips, marking some of your gloss onto her plumped lips.
she grabbed ahold of your ass and quickly drilled into you from underneath. her cock punching your spot, each nudge against your cervix causing your breath to stutter and your stomach to tighten. ‘ oh my god .. ‘ you mewled, she looked up at you to see you with furrowed eyebrows and shut eyes. ‘ such a pretty girl, shittt— wanna take you home with me, treat you so good. you want that ? ‘ she groaned, hearing your heavy breaths. you nodded in no hesitation, making her chuckle, you were so cute.
‘ i wanna cum .. pleaseplease— ‘ you beg as one of her hands travel to your cunt, her fingers brushing your puffy clit. ‘ aw fuck— look at you.. that it ? you want me to fill you up, baby? stuff you till you’re full ? ‘ she quizzed, watching your expressions as you were close. ‘ yesyesyes, please. want you to fill me .. make me full— fuck ! ' you blabbered all kinds of words, wanting her to breed you if it were possible. she wastes no time in plowing into you, hips snapping up faster and faster at a pace and force that she’s certain could’ve shattered your hips if you weren't human.
you felt yourself clench around her again, this time tighter than before as you both felt yourself at your peek, your tiny moans doing it for her. ‘ don't stop, ohmygod. ‘ your mouth fell open. ‘ i won't, princess. cmon, i want all of it, cum on my dick. ‘ she encouraged. it makes you flustered up again, the fact that someone like her is taking pleasure in you, when it was the least you ever expected. a large cry rips free from your throat with her thrusting into you and rubbing on your clit.
‘ fuckkk— needa make you mine forever. ‘ she spoke into your ear. abby felt herself closer and closer, your cunt milking her cock as you came with her. surprisingly, wetting her abdomen. you both can barely breathe as the only thing being heard between you were pants. remained buried into you, she furrows her brows and rests her forehead against you for a moment before her thumb wipes away your rolled down tears, then you're looking down at her with lidded eyes.
‘ you okay, precious ? ‘ she questions gently before pressing a kiss to your nose. ‘ was it too much ? ‘ she looks at you concerned. you widen your eyes with a bright smile blooming on your face as you shake your head. ‘ no no, not at all, promise. it was perfect. ‘ she laughs in relief, mirroring your joy before bringing you into a kiss, reveling in your quick bubbly state.
‘ taking you home with me. ‘
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reblogs + feedback always appreciated ^^
𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐘𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐋 | all rights reserved — do not modify, copy, or plagiarize any of my works.
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 1 month
Text
bluetooth j.t.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader
Warnings: A little suggestive if you squint
Word Count: 1.2k words
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You don't know how you allowed yourself to get manipulated into being a girlboss and moving out of your childhood home to live in your own apartment. While it was nice to have your own privacy and decorate your home however you liked, you realized just how many privileges you lost now that you weren't in the care of your parents.
There was no one there to make sure you woke up on time in the few cases where you slept through your alarm, no one that you could call on your way back from work to ask to switch on the water heater so you could take a steamy shower immediately.
You didn't have your mother's homecooked meals and you didn't have your father to pick you up snacks from the grocery store.
And one of the biggest thorns in your side was the reason you were dreading the entire day. Car maintenance. The auto shop was one of the most daunting places in your life as a girl who knew nothing about cars. Never once had you regretted not learning how to take care of your car or even the procedure required when you eventually take your car down to the auto shop.
But now standing in the hot and dusty garage, you were seriously rethinking your life choices. You should've scheduled these things for when your dad was visiting so you could ask him to take it instead. Or, even better, you should've gotten a boyfriend.
You were complaining in your head, dragging your feet about having to be here in the first place and whined about handing your car keys, with a bunch of adorable keychains attached to some rando.
But when Jason Todd, 6'2 man with biceps that were larger than your own head and a body that looked like he was shaped out of marble by Michelangelo himself walked out with a form for you to fill out, you were all too happy to be there.
Perhaps you'd be leaving here with a boyfriend after all.
"I have to admit, I don't really know much about cars so please don't scam me."
Jason chuckled, a deep, hoarse laugh that made you a little weak in the knees honestly and the boy-crazed fraction of your brain began to imagine how he would sound as soon as he woke up next to you, after a night of—
"A bit of advice, you probably don't want to let scammers know that you have no idea what they're talking about."
You giggled, scolding yourself mentally for finding that funny.
'Come on, (Y/N), pull yourself together it wasn't even that funny. His face is just great delivery.'
"Or I could keep coming here and have you check my car, since you're so trustworthy." You mused, sparing him a teasing smile.
Jason was completely picking up what you were putting down, giving you a coy smile of his own before responding, "Or perhaps this is just a tactic to get you to keep coming back."
You narrowed your eyes playfully, "Devious."
Looking back at his little clipboard, a thin metal rod of some kind tucked behind his ear instead of a pen, Jason asked, "When was the last time you got your car checked out? If your battery and brake pad was replaced recently, we could probably skip that and just do a routine check to make sure everything's running smoothly."
You winced, "I couldn't tell you, honestly. My dad usually handles this kinda stuff for me, I'm still kind of a new lamb when it comes to taking care of my car."
Jason raised his eyes from the clipboard for a second, "Your boyfriend can't do this kinda stuff for you instead?"
"I don't have a boyfriend."
He perked up immediately and you ducked your head to hide your smile, "I'm sure you probably have a record of it in your glovebox or something. Most places keep a little sticker with the date of your last service under the dash. I'll check it out for you, do you have somewhere to be, or do you have a couple minutes so I can make sure?"
You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders with a carefree smile, "It's my day off so I'm free as a bird."
He grinned, "Noted. Just give me a second."
You watched his back receding as he walked toward your car, shoulders looking like they could span the entire ocean and it was only when he was sat in the car and had turned on the engine did you whip out your phone at lightspeed.
"Ohmygosh Julie, I think I just met my future husband. Holy shit. He's so cute—gorgeous actually. He's working on my car right now and God, those arms, wow. And those eyes? God, I feel blessed just by looking at his face." The end of your message was interrupted by another mechanic running the engine.
You waited patiently for the sound of the engine to die before replaying the voice message so you could re-record the part that got cut off. Only you couldn't hear a thing.
Confused, you increased the volume, taking a sip from your coffee to soothe the inhumane squeal that you had let out while sending Julie the voice message. Once again you heard nothing.
You bit your lip at this, swiping down at the corner of your phone at access your control center and realizing the reason you couldn't hear anything was because it was connected to the Bluetooth on your car.
Wait.
THE CAR?!
You whipped around in horror only to find Jason smirking at you from the front seat of your car. If the world were fair, you'd be struck down with lightning right then and there. Or, since you were at an auto shop, a sentient car might run you over.
Alas, you continued to stand there in horror, completely unharmed no matter how badly you wished to be reduced to a puddle on the ground.
You called him your future husband. The ground should've swallowed you then and there. Instead, you just stood there in complete mortification and embarrassment while you stared at his amused expression.
Something startled him out of his gaze for a second and he pointed at your console, making a gesture like he was taking a call. Confused, you glanced at your phone.
'Incoming call: Julie'
Ah, saved by the bell.
*
"How much do I owe you?" You asked, quickly popping open your purse to fish out your credit card. You had stretched out the conversation with Julie as long as possible, begging her not to hang up and only interrupting her tangent when Jason finally came up to you, saying that your car was good to go.
"It's on the house." He gave you a charming grin, leaning an arm against the counter, "Can't have my future wife paying for anything, can I?"
Your cheeks flared red, still holding out your card for him to take, "O-Oh, I couldn't, really."
"If you insist, then you can always repay me with dinner. Today's your day off, right? Think you can pencil me in for 7?"
A shy smile grew on your face, your body so warm you had to resist fanning your burning cheeks, "Sounds like a plan."
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@uxavity
@battlenix
@capricorn-stark
@evermoore580
@dumbbitchgalore
@fuckingjinkies
@some-lovely-day
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cheemscakecat · 3 months
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Fun/Interesting details in Expiration Date
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Heavy knows that Pauling is calling them, and lets Scout be the one to answer. Also, road safety because he’s not distracted driving.
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Medic is so hyped about tumor bread.
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Hoovy smelling the sandwich and deciding it’s safe to eat [or that it doesn’t matter at this point].
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Pyro standing like that. He don’t know what’s going on, but he’ll still be polite. Also, Sniper just chillin in the back with a poker face the whole time.
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Medic smiles at Soldier as they walk past. Engineer’s got that Conhager death-cheating focus at the moment.
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Spy’s eyes widen angrily when he realizes it’s Scout at the door and then he smirks like; “Oh hi! Twelve hours was enough time for you to get bored of my absence, then?”, not expecting a sincere apology [maybe one orchestrated by the other teammates, but not Scout].
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There was some vitriol behind that “***”, look at his nose. He does not want Scout to gloat, try to prank him again, or give a fake apology. And that’s valid, since the team dying is something Scout should have taken seriously, and the last wishes handled with respect. He crossed a line that Spy doesn’t take lightly.
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Dad, I threwed up. But in all seriousness, that’s the “My family is dysfunctional, and I don’t know how to be emotionally honest with people” posture.
See my bucket scene analysis for more on these two.
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He didn’t say “You’re terrible with girls” in a snide or smug tone, he said it with like actual parental concern. “Scout, no you have three days! Do you want to die rejected or die before you can enjoy being together? No. Don’t do this to yourself.”
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Look at that cup, he did not need a refill. This fake smirk and disinterest is Spy’s way of checking how serious Scout is about this last wish and taking his advice. And when he goes “This never leaves this room” Spy perks up.
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Medic was taking a sample of bread tumor puss [or injecting it with something].
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They have a whole entire wrestling ring, how did I never notice that?
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This is one of those multiple choice questions where you can choose more than one answer and have it be right. But the chicken in combination with the other options looses you points, and just taking the chicken is like the token wrong answer.
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Spy sighs when he realizes Scout chose just the chicken. Like chile, I gave you multiple options and you still went with your go-to that doesn’t work!
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This room has a gym floor, which implies Spy took a bunch of fancy stuff from one of his rooms just for this date training. Also shoutout to the other teammates for helping with this.
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Okay, so most of these decorations came from Pyro, who Scout is terrified of. Archimedes came from Medic, who Scout also doesn’t want to make angry, and the grass cutouts are potentially part of the base camouflage. But that disco ball? That belongs to Scout, he just doesn't want anyone to know he’s real into that. [The team would not judge, but his brothers would, so.]
Man when he gets his heart broken, I hope he finds the right girl for him. He deserves better than Pauling always making excuses to turn him down instead of telling him like it is.
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Foreshadowing Solly being romantical towards Zhanna. Look at this content man.
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Spy holding his knife like this. There’s no reason for it to be a threat, so he’s just genuinely in the habit of doing this while listening. Or while nervous, which also makes sense.
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