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fanaticsnail · 26 days

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Lathered Up

Masterlist here

Word count: 1,600+

Synopsis: After spending far too long at sea in the Polar Tang, all you wanted was a shower. Your two lovers join you in ridding their bodies of grime while enjoying ridding you of your stress.

Warnings: smut, Mdni, 18+, throuple dynamic, Shachi x afab!reader x Penguin, shower sex, oral - afab!receiving, soap, water sex, Shachi is a Fishman, Penguin is a soft-dom, semi-sub!reader, established relationship, Premature ejaculations, untouched ejaculations, watersports.

Notes: taking a leaf out of @bby-deerling's book and had a few drinks, here is some throuple smut for two of the Heart-Pirates that @feral-artistry asked for in passing. I blame Aperol Prosecco spritz.

Tag list: @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @carrotsunshine @vespidphoenix @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @mfreedomstuff

Suds of frothy soap sloshed at your chest, drops of cooling lather clashing with the scorching liquid plummeting harshly on your shoulders. Your head hung limp, hair falling and sticking to your forehead beneath the fresh, warm water.

The day had been exhausting, your body encumbered by the difficulties faced while traveling at sea in the Polar Tang. You loved your crewmates, you loved your job, you loved the sea; but sometimes, all you wanted to love was the hot ripples of pummeling beads between your shoulder blades. As you docked at port, you immediately sprung at the opportunity of taking a lengthy shower.

All of your thoughts were eclipsed by ‘shower.’ The grime sticking to your skin plagued you more so than keening at the prospect of sleeping in a cozy bed, up to your neck in weighted quilts and within the perfect cool temperature of a welcoming room. Sleep? Shower. Food? Shower. Alcohol? Shower.

The one and only thing stronger than your incessant need to rid yourself of traveling grime were the two strong arms lathering your breasts in silken suds. Fingers tweaking your peaked nipples, you lulled your head back to lay atop Penguin’s stooped shoulder within the large shower bay. His toothy grin was occupied by pressing loose kisses against your neck, tongue swirling over your damp flesh.

His dark hair stuck to his forehead beneath the rapid water, his eyes half-lidded and consumed with lust. He was just as far gone as you were, pent up with frustration at traveling without respite for so long.

Although you all traveled together, there was truly little to no time you got to spend within the arms of one another. Your work overtook your duties as a partner, the captainship of Trafalgar Law held higher than your need to give in to your carnal desires.

“Feel good?” he cooed at you, his elbows caging you in a slippery embrace, “You want some more pressure?”

You whined against the circling of his skilled digits against your peaked buds, your body fighting the urge to turn away to press your lips against his. Should you turn your body to face his smiling lips, you would inadvertently be breaking away from the kneeling figure of the redheaded Shachi, skillfully lapping at your glistening cunt. His tongue slid against your pearly clit, sliding down to your slit to collect more of your arousal to spread against your needy pussy.

Shachi moaned against your core, his mouth drooling as he eagerly nodded his face against your quivering clit. Penguin continued to tweak your nipples, only halting to gather more of the frothy bubbles and spread it over your chest.

“Lean into me,” Penguin ordered, hooking his left arm over your torso and supporting your weight, “We've got you.”

“Just relax into it,” Shachi’s muffled voice called to you, lifting your legs over his shoulders and swallowing a gulp of bathwater, “We’ll take care of the rest.”

All you could do was let out a whining hum of affirmation, allowing your two crewmen to manhandle you to gain the best advantage to please you. Shachi continued lapping greedily against your weeping cunt, whispering praises into your core each time he bobbed his face against you.

“There you go,” Penguin’s voice cooed in your ear, flicking his tongue out to tease your lobe, “Ease into us. Good job, let us do the work.”

“W-What ‘bout you?” you huffed. Shachi’s deviant tongue flicking skillfull circles against your clit, his lips hovering over the bud before diving in completely caused you to arch your back and cry out.

“We'll get to us later,” Penguin laughed against your cheek, his right hand tracing over your jaw to turn your head, “Don't worry about it right now. Let us please you.”

“You've been working harder than the both of us combined,” Shachi’s slurred voice muffled between your folds, “More than me, especially. Wanna get you off on my face before we go to bed.”

Shachi’s lips dove against your clit, circling it with his lips, and flicking with his flattened tongue. Penguin drew your face closer to him, taking your full weight against his glistening chest. Collecting your lips against his, water flooded you both over his shoulder. The showerhead continued to pummel it's beaded droplets against you, adding to the moisture and steam between the three of you.

You whined into Penguin's mouth, sucking in a heavy breath through your nose as he flicked his tongue out to meet yours. He pried open your lips, consuming your cries with a ravishing intensity.

Right hand hooking behind his neck, you pulled Penguin in deeper and nudged his jaw with your chin to deepen the kiss. Your left hand balled Shachi’s damp, red locks against the scruff of his neck and held him tightly as he continued to suck your clit.

The familiar coax of your impending unravel stampeded towards you with lightning intensity. Shachi hummed into you, his tongue flicking and lapping at your cunt in a similar motion that Penguin was conducting against your lips. Your brows peaked in the centre, feeling the prod of Shachi’s fingers against your neglected slit.

Just as Shachi intended to add his fingers into you, you were shocked when he circled the weighty girth of Penguin’s aching cock and lined it up with your core. Penguin’s breath hitched, his voice whimpering against your lips as Shachi coaxed his throbbing cock into your slickened walls.

“No, Shach,” Penguin whimpered, “It's been w-way too long,” he grit his teeth when Shachi began pumping his cock while fucking your slit onto Penguin's cock.

“I-I'm gonna cum quick,” Penguin cried, “I haven't had the time to touch myself in weeks,” his confession had Shachi chuckle, focussing on taking your weight into his shoulders so Penguin could focus on his needy thrusting.

“You need it,” Shachi commented, tearing his face away from your core to focus on Penguin’s needy cock, “You both do. So take it.” Shachi guided Penguin's cock to sheathe itself within you, Penguin whimpering a strangled whine as your arousal eased him down to the hilt in a single thrust.

“S’okay, Pen,” you managed to cry, Shachi’s lips finding your clit once more and romancing it with open-mouth kisses, “M’not gonna last long either.”

“F-Fuck,” Penguin cried, his hips slapping with large gushes of water flicking between your bodies. Shachi licked, sucked, mouthed, and romanced your clit while Penguin railed you from behind.

Penguin's hands hastily anchored his left hand at your right hip, and his right hand needily clutched at your left breast. He rut into you like an animal in heat, greedily chasing his high within your body.

“I-I'm gonna cum?!” Penguin's confusion at the hasty climax had yours begin to unravel, your walls immediately contracting with the white-hot bliss of your eruption.

“C-Cum in me, Pen,” you whined, Shachi's tongue greedily lapping at you while he moaned against your stiffened pearl, “Use me. Take me. Fuck me, Pen-.”

“-Oh fuck, I'm cumming,” Penguin cried, immediately sinking his teeth into your right shoulder as he rammed his girthy cock into your eager cunt, “I'm cumming. I'm cumming s-so fucking hard. Fuck, I'm filling you up. F-Fuck.”

Ribbons of his translucent bliss splashed within your greedy cunt, ushering you closer to your ecstasy. His rhythmless aftershocks of his orgasm shepherded you ever closer to encountering your own.

Growing over confident, Shachi latched fully against your clit and immediately shot an intentional stream of water from his mouth against you. His natural abilities as a Fishman granted him this unusual and unique sensation. Shooting water from his mouth in a rapid-fire jet, you immediately screamed with your orgasm.

Unhooking your arm from Penguins neck, both hands shot out to firmly sink into Shachi’s head; the largest orgasm of your life erupting in gushing streams of release against his face.

“Sh-Shachi, t-too much!” you cried, grinding down against his head as he mouthed at you through your orgasm, “F-Fuck Penguin, don't stop. F-Fuck I'm cumming! Sh-Shit-... nmmghm-... So good.”

Shachi’s eyes rolled into his head, empathetically succumbing to the bliss his two partners were experiencing. His beaded precum glistened amongst the shower water, his cock twitching out an unintentional stream of sticky cum as soon as you gushed against his face. His shock flew from his lips as he cried through his untouched orgasm.

You rode his face through the unravel of your bliss, Penguin's cock sleeved to the hilt within you as he cried out both yours and Shachi’s names. Your lips were agape, wordlessly naming your two lovers as you all rode through your highs.

Shachi’s shock only unravelled the moment he released your clit with a crude ‘pop.’ He never came untouched, always the one that took the longest to reach his peak. He chalked it up to the pent up frustration at sea, and the fact that when he looked up, he saw nothing but eternal bliss depicted on his lovers’ faces.

Upon coming down through your highs, three sets of roaming hands scrubbed at each other's bodies. Ridding yourselves of your prior releases, you shared kisses and intimate touches between you that felt sacred and holy.

No further words were spoken between you, your emotions all depicted in your unconcealed and unshrouded eyes.

After drying off in fluffy towels, you all plopped into the giant mattress and immediately became an amassment of tangled limbs. Legs, arms, torsos and lips all greeted each other in blissful tranquility.

No blessings of ‘sweet dreams,’ nor peaceful promises of ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ were uttered. All of your emotions and feelings were laid out between sweet kisses and gentle embraces, all tucked beneath the weighty duvet you shared between the three of you.

#one piece #x reader #shachi #penguin #one piece smut #shachi and penguin #op shachi #op penguin #heart pirates #shachi x reader #penguin x reader #shachi x reader x penguin #op smut

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ghouljams · 6 months

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im so curious.... what wouldve happened if bee knew those were königs bugs? like does he go full kidnapper? saying she just up and left to the people who ask, meanwhile shes barely waking up tied nice and comfortably secure to a bedpost in a somewhat familiar bedroom

im always down for some darker content<3

OK UH problem here is that Bee is insane and reads exclusively dark romance. I wanted this to be dark but she is so silly, and charming. König is charmed. That's why he kidnapped her. You know, once again you're not trapped with him, he's trapped with you. This isn't canon...

If you'd put the pieces together, if König had said something a little more suspicious, what other choice would he have had but to take you home? You try to ask him why he bugged your home, who he's working for, but he's fast and something sharp stings your neck.

You wake up in a room with bars on the windows and a nasty hangover. The sun is too bright through the gauzy curtains. You snuggle deeper under the heavy blankets, hug your arms tighter around your pillow and try to remember what you drank last night. Except you didn't drink anything you remember with a start. König hit you with something. You force your eyes open and sit up to take in the room. It's nice, cozy. Heavy blankets cover the bed, plush throws and old quilts. Thick carpets hide the wood floors you know flow throughout König's house. There's art on the walls, a bookshelf, an armchair.

This place is way nicer than the cells the leads in your favorite books get thrown into. You sniff, rub at your sleep laden eyes, as you take stock. This is just like when Rebessica got kidnapped by Dextros in "Kidnapped by a Crime Boss". You should probably be more panicked than you are, but the splitting headache makes it hard to think that far ahead. They never mention that part in the books.

You know if König wasn't a fed this might be hot. You always wondered what it would be like to be kidnapped by a guy who was so in love with you it bordered on obsession. You knew it was too good to be true, a handsome cowboy living next door to you, doting on you. You should have known he was a CIA plant. Weird they'd make him German, but you suppose it works for him. There's a button next to the bed, right next to the lamp. You hardly hesitate before pushing it.

König opens the door a second later, you wonder if he was waiting for you. "Can I have some asprin?" You ask, "And do we have time for coffee before you give me to the cops, or..." König blinks at you. You can see the gears turning behind his eyes grind to a halt.

"What? Why would the police be involved?" He makes no move to get you anything for the headache. Cruel and unusual punishment.

"You're a fed? I assume?" You pick at the bedspread, "Tellin' me you're retired, getting me to lower my guard, bugging my house, I thought you liked me."

"What?"

"And I want my phone call. I won't say a word without my lawyer present." You cross your arms over your chest to stare him down. König looks like he's completely lost.

"I am retired." He tells you, picking up at least part of your griping.

"You're holding me prisoner," You remind him, in case he forgot. His eyes dart away from you, glancing at the room before landing on you again.

"A very cute prisoner." He tries. You're not buying it. His expression changes, hardens into something cruel and unreadable. You shiver, some sick excitement dripping down your spine. "This is for your own good Schatz, it's dangerous for you to be on your own, and I couldn't have you trying to leave me after you found-"

"Oh I wouldn't leave you over that," You cut him off. König deflates a little, stalks into the room so you're forced to tip your head back to look at him. He looms over you, menacing.

"What?"

"Bugging me, you're not with any government or police force, right?" He nods slowly. "Then I don't see what the big deal is, I bugged you."

"You what?" The tone in König's voice is dangerous. You really don't thin he should be so upset about that, turnabout is fair play.

"Put a worm on your phone, keystroke tracking, location tracking, app usage, battery data-" König holds up a hand to stop you, taking a deep breath.

"Ok," He feels out the word, absorbing the new information. You take the moment to push the blankets back, he put you in pjs, they're cute. This should not strike you as romantically as it does. It's just like one of your books, awww. Your forum friends are going to freak over this. You watch König process, as much as you think this is kinda hot you really should feed your cat.

"Can I go home now, or do you want the worm off your phone?" You ask, as sweet as you can manage. König hums.

"You're not mad."

"You like me enough to kidnap me," You giggle, kicking your feet, "it's kind of cute." The look of horror on König's face is quick but noticeable. He pinches the bridge of his nose and heaves a sigh.

"We need to talk about the books you are reading meine Liebe," He shakes his head, "Ja, alright, run along home. I'll be by later to check on you."

"I know," You grin, "You have it on your calendar, including walk time."

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urhoneycombwitch · 2 months

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im gonna be at work for high night 🙄 so save my self-indulgent idea for later lu

reader who keeps hitting the snooze button on their alarm and groans knowing they need to get up for work but they just really cannot find the motivation to. The bed is warm and they're so comfortable and what's the harm of calling out....

Eddie who notices they're still laying down, eyes closed and in that fighting off being awake state and he knows there's only so many snoozes they can hit before they're definitely going to be running late so he sneaks under the covers....

and he doesn't come back up again until reader is awake, a tired, but satisfied smile on their face as they blink up at the ceiling. He presses some kisses to their lips/cheek/neck, slick and smelling like them, going "Hi, pretty. Ready to get up now?"

nauuurrr anon 😞 we will miss you but hope u see this after ur shift 💖 eeeheeeeheeeheee I’m literally kicking my feet behind my back sleepover-style giggling at this. that ellipses is so sinister I gotta help it out

+18 mdni

cw: R receives oral + fingering while sleeping (has been previously discussed as a 👍), somno, Eddie’s a soft!dom

___

Eddie’s always so attentive to your needs and state of being- he’s naturally super empathetic. by no means a morning person himself, he learns quickly that the rhythm of your day is usually set by how you wake up.

he’s dealt with the consequences of you having been off to a bad start, before- it takes a huge amount of cajoling or kisses or swinging by the diner for waffles to shake you out of a grumpy funk. and based on the way you’ve been tossing and turning this morning, you’re about to have the most miserable work shift ever.

what he doesn’t have this morning, though, is a lot of time- waffles will have to be for another day. he’s got an even better idea for a sweet wakeup.

he moves slow, weight in his hands on either side of your sleeping frame, kissing as he moves down your body. first to your bare shoulder. then to the side of that pretty nightie’s strap. one for your pebble nipple, peaking through the silk.

Eddie trails his kisses down- one on your stomach, one for the bump of your cunt- pulling the sheets away as he goes.

with fingers nimble and dextrous, he feels for the band of your underwear while keeping his eyes on your face, careful to pause if your expression changes. the goal is to keep you pliant, for this next part…

he gets his head under the edge of your nightdress, pussy fully exposed to the eager lappings of his mouth. with one hand on your stomach to keep your center grounded, Eddie slips the middle two fingers of his other hand into your slippery cunt.

a soft shift of your hips, a whimper, and Eddie moves his hands with your pelvis, using the momentum to dip and catch your clit in his mouth.

he follows with his head as your hips sink back down into the mattress, sucking hard on your beating clit as he goes.

you must’ve been having a dirty dream, ‘cuz you’re already so tight around his fingers, slick pooling in his palm. he laps noisily into your cunt, wet squelch of his fingers bringing you to bleary consciousness.

“whuh- uh- oh fuck, Eddie-”

your legs jerk close on impulse, trapping his head between your thighs, and Eddie thinks he might’ve died and gone to heaven. fully clothed, about to cream his jeans from eating his girl out. sure, he’s down to meet god, but can it wait a second?

“was dreamin’ you- ah, yeah, there- dreamin’ of you doing this to me. fuck…” your voice ends in a hoarse rasp, your hands shooting into Eddie’s hair, tugging at the roots.

he ruts into the mattress, cock leaking steadily into the fabric of his briefs, humming with pleasure against your clit.

your back arches off the mattress, he hears that tell-tale, breathy little gasp, and you’re gone- clenching around his fingers like a vice, flooding against his pistoning fingers.

he’s gone just as soon as you, coming in hot spurts with each upstroke against the quilt below, moaning into your pussy.

he kisses a sticky trail back up your body, sliding your nightie strap into place, loving and firm- “morning, princess. go take a shower, and no complaining. as a thank you for the wake up gift- ‘kay?”

you wouldn’t dream of complaining, nodding easily to his command, sleepy and sated smile on your face. your arms reach to encircle his shoulders, and Eddie leans in for a kiss- he tastes like you.

#eddie munson x reader #lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #somno #tw somno

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turnstileskyline · 2 years

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This is an ask about The Muppets. Take it as a free invitation to go on whatever Muppet-related tangent your heart so desires <3

im going to take this ask to talk about richard hunt :) he joined the jim henson company way back when it was henson associates, in 1969. he was 18, fresh out of high school, and already experienced in puppetry and performing.

hunt joined the muppet team in a very muppet-esque way, by calling sesame street from a phone booth and asking if henson associates was hiring. and, somehow, they happened to be auditioning people that same day. he worked the great santa claus switch in 1970, and aided in muppet appearances on programs like the ed sullivan show. on sesame street, he often aided in operation, frequently performing ernie’s right hand or the back end of mr snuffleupagus. one of his first main characters was sully, one half of the construction duo of biff and sully (biff was performed by jerry nelson, who richard hunt would often be paired with in performances). the story goes that richard hunt wanted to perform a frequent character, rather than assisting in the operation of other characters – and so he was assigned sully, who had no spoken or sung lines. hunt eventually took on multiple characters, like gladys the cow, don music, and forgetful jones, although following his death, many have been phased out or put in the background.

his most recognizable characters come from the muppet show, where he would perform scooter (the excitable stagehand of the muppet show often found pestering kermit backstage,) janice (the lead guitarist of dr. teeth and the electric mayhem, typically paired with jerry nelson’s floyd pepper,) beaker, statler, wayne, and sweetums. when fraggle rock began, hunt was one of henson’s core team of performers, so he was often shooting sesame street – a fact that didn’t stop him from performing junior gorg, gunge, mudwell, and the wizard, among others.

when jim henson died in 1990, he chose richard hunt to lead his memorial service. hunt had been with the muppets for 21 years at this point, and had become one of henson’s most trusted puppeteers and closest friends. he would often goof off backstage, entertaining guests to the studios with whatever puppet was closest to him. colleagues recall that he brought the energy to every set he was on, playing pranks on new hires, smoking joints with jerry nelson backstage, and inviting the cast and crew to gay bars with him after sesame street tapings. one of the most famous stories about him was his frustration with elmo, who he briefly performed before the furry red monster became a childhood icon. reportedly frustrated that he couldn’t figure out what to do with the character, he threw the puppet across the room, exclaiming to kevin clash (who caught the puppet) something along the lines of “someone else do it!”

he passed in 1992 from complications caused by the AIDS virus. matt baume has described him as “one of the most famous gay men in the world who nobody recognized”. following his death, the muppet workshop created a panel for the aids quilt to memorialize him. hunt was integral to the success of the muppets, due both to his skills in performing and to the energy and spirit he brought to every production he was a part of.

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eiraeths · 5 months

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do you guys want some of my cod 141 headcanons you’re getting them anyways

SOAP

-puts stuff in his mouth a lot to hold it when he runs out of hands (this includes when he’s making explosives, it stresses everyone out)

-gets cute aggression and bites people

-will also bite in a fight

-has bits and pieces of rubble from explosions that he thought looked pretty

-is feral, like he takes a hit to the face during a spar and grins with blood trickling into his mouth

-had a graffiti phase as a teen that never fully left and because of it he writes in all capital letters. this is great when they need something written down where no one can read it. (the 141 probably had a meeting where they went over how to read his handwriting)

-has dreams so realistic he wakes up confused wondering if it was a memory he forgot about even if it didn’t make sense

-military grade anger issues

-never fully grew out of his punk phase

-his childhood room was full of road signs and traffic cones

-is actually a hardass when it comes to training recruits (i think the proper term for privates in the sas is troopers but im calling them recruits cause that seems to be the term everyone uses)(everyone thought his bright attitude meant that he’s laid back and easygoing. no. he’s not. yall ever seen those videos of drill sergeants coming up with the most creative insults? thats him)

-randomly says “i am normal and can be trusted around military grade weapons”

-his journal from the og games is a must in the remaster sorry i don’t make the rules

GHOST

-can play guitar super fucking well, im talking full on fingerstyle ballads

-major staring problem, if he doesn’t want to talk to someone he’ll stare until they go away. sometimes stares at people for no reason. also stares when he wants something. he’s always watching.

-would be interested in getting into blacksmithing if he didn’t grow up poor and hates spending money on himself that isn’t out of necessity (seriously you need like 30k to start a forge)

-can and will obsess over damascus patterns in blades (i feel like his favorite pattern would be fish bone or those really complicated mosaic patterns. he gets soap into it too by showing him fireball patterns)

-never grew out of echolalia and because of this is amazing at mimicking noises (he mimicks smoke alarm battery low noises and phone chimes to troll people sometimes.)

-road rage, but its quiet fuming comments that make you grip the oh shit handle for dear life (“you better turn off your fucking highbeams or i can’t be blamed for the head on collision that’s about to happen”)(no one can tell if he’s serious or not)

-hates tin foil, hearing it or touching it makes him clench his jaw because it feels like he can feel it in his teeth

-secret sweet tooth, but it comes and goes. sometimes he’s disgusted by anything sweeter than white bread and other times he can fuck up an entire box of lil debbie cakes

-can hand sew efficiently and fast as fuck

-his favorite type of blanket is a heavy quilt

GAZ

-is aggressively hydrated and is one of those people who carry around those big 128 oz water bottles

-gets competitive over karaoke (it took him months to convince everyone to join and he only got the idea after finding out soap wanted to be in a band as a teen and that he spent days learning how to properly vocal fry)

-says WOO! when he’s super fucking excited (will throw his arms up as well if soap is around because the two of them are an echo chamber of emotion)(the WOO! might actually be canon theres a voice line in warzone)

-probably the most up to date on modern fashion trends (get this man a long cashmere coat he deserves it)

-he does own a bedazzled cap he found at a gas station though (it’s hideous)

-elaborate skin care routine (he’s conned everyone to have some sort of routine. especially ghost. he got so concerned when it hit him that ghost was always wearing the eyeblack)

PRICE

-listens to black label society (i won’t budge on this its not even a head canon to me anymore its fact it was revealed to me in a dream)

-plays solitaire (he’s a very high level and it took him less than a year to get there. no one knows where he found the time to play for that long)

-drives a manual and shames people who don’t know how to work a stick

-literature nerd (im talking all the classics and philosophy books this man can get his hands on)

-discovered tennessee moonshine and has thought about it ever since

-smacks people on the back of the head when they’re doing something stupid

-if anyone makes a negative comment on his facial hair he gives them the dirtiest side eye

GEN/MULTI

-gaz and soap carry those big contractor waterproof sharpies and leave gaz was here or soap was here everywhere they go (this stemmed from soap’s graffiti phase and gaz turned it into a competition. they once got into a competition on who could leave the most signs until price called them muppets and confiscated their sharpies)

-ghost put soap in air jail once, it was very effective

-gaz and soap go to the gym together and take photos in the mirrors after they’re done (somewhere there’s a photo of the time they got ghost to join and they even got him to flex an arm)

-ghost and soap are professional assholes to each other.

-none of the 141 are allowed play card games and gamble with each other because they’re all dirty charlatans

-price tried to stop smoking only once and carried around gum and peppermints. ghost stole the peppermints and soap wouldn’t stop asking for gum

-gaz and ghost are the only ones who really try to adhere to the lights out rule. price and soap can be seen drinking coffee throughout the day

-all of them can hold a grudge for life

-ghost clears his throat loudly when any of them smoke by him. or stares. depends on the say

-if any of the smokers see another outside smoking and decides to join them it turns into a drawn out conversation about the most mundane topics

-the 141 can have full conversations of pure sarcasm nons

#task force 141 #cod headcanons #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod modern warfare #modern warefare ii #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #soap cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #cod price #john price #i need more gaz headcanons #modern warfare headcanons #cod 141 #141 headcanons #ear headcanons

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unicyclehippo · 3 months

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flew for the first time in a very long time, since well before covid started, & oh i missed it so much. first, how remarkable an invention a plane is, how clever, how world changing!! it can seem so normal but actually we are FLYING. i looked down on the clouds that look down on me. the sun rose & everything was brilliantly incandescently white. i stared out the window for the entirety of the admittedly too-short flight & cloud spotted—i saw lions & palaces of cloud & a fleet of dolphins breaking out of the waves. mostly it looked like quilting wadding. i love to fly. i love to people watch, i love to cloud watch, i love the clouds, i love the captains & the cabin crew. when i fly i feel like i will never run out of things to love about humans

a short list of things i loved about the two flights i took:

- special shoutout to the cabin crew, ground crew, they’re incredible. literally all the crew i interacted with had the biggest smiles & were so so friendly & helpful. if ur a crew member out there, i love you. huge shout out to the mid 50s (?) hostess on my first flight—short, super sharply put together in the “im a modern witch” kinda way—who had a quip for almost every comment directed her way. the only one i rmbr was when an elderly passenger called her love she replied “how’d you know my name is love? you must be a psychic!”

- all the passengers i saw were calm & unruffled at the least & sometimes very nice! all around me i could hear people meeting & passing with those small human courtesies repeated & repeated—pardon me, d’you mind if i duck past, hey do you need help with your bag, oh mind their head there, where are you headed, can you get by do you need some room, thank you, thank you, thank you, can i help you, can i help you, can i help you

- special shoutout to the passenger w the crying baby. he was such an upset baby & the only thing that calmed him was being walked up & down the aisle over & over. every time he came down the aisle, i saw heads turn toward him & people smiling their baby smiles—exaggerated, kind, often accompanied by a scrunch of the nose or a tiny wave. ‘he doesn’t sound happy poor thing,’ i heard a lot, or things like it, as his dad bounced him in his arms, & then, invariably, help was offered. ‘my mother swears by this trick‘ — ‘my husband does this to calm our kids” — ‘my wife always does this’. the flight was delayed by nearly fifty minutes. no one was allowed out of their seat as we idled on the tarmac except for this unhappy baby & his dad, walking up & down the aisle.

- special shoutout to my seat buddy, who had a wonderful bright yellow backpack with rainbow straps. i have a matching one & told her so. she said it was a whim, on account of the yellow & rainbow. i told her it’s a very durable bag & one of my favourites. there’s a softening that comes with a compliment, a small comment when we meet—it’s an invitation from then on to say whatever little something pops into our heads. are you listening to music? what book are you reading - oh it’s a library book! good on you mate! we gotta use them more. do you know how to get the headphones working—ooh i figured it out. mind if i use your charger, mines not working. hey the refreshments are headed this way did you want anything? are you headed home? my family is in the row in front & she smiles every time they twist uncomfortably to chat through the gaps in the seats. later, as we are waiting to disembark, she confesses she was on the flight before but it was cancelled . you mean i could’ve had more space, i teased. she laughed, apologises. i could have had far worse company…but not by much, i teased a little more, & she laughed harder. get home safe, we say to each other—i don’t know her name, she knows mine just because my mother whispered it through the seats (are you too hot back there? do you have enough leg room? i can’t move the seat but - oh your sister wants me to recline my seat onto you, im going to squish you!). get home safe, i hear echoed by ten more people to their seat buddies as i hurry off the plane. the last is from a smiling crew member (refer back to my first point. i love you crew members).

- a turbaned man held his baby up at the huge windows looking out to the planes. she clung to him for a minute then tried to dive out of his arms, her own spread wide like the wings of a plane, laughing.

- the women having dinner in the food court as we waited for our plane. i was facing away from them & somewhat half heartedly eavesdropping but every now & again they said something so familiar that it may as well have been my own sisters sitting behind me. ‘—don’t hate her but some of the things she says-‘ ‘i know, i know. can she even hear herself? it’s like. so self-centred.’ ‘and she THINKS she’s being the nice one or she wants us to think it? i don’t even KNOW anymore. like, either she’s so conceited she thinks we love everything she does or she knows she’s behaved badly & is enjoying, i don’t know, us not knowing what to say?’ ‘i KNOW. and, like, we have to be honest,’ ‘absolutely,’ ‘but at the same time it’s like. she should know.’ ‘she should KNOW.’ ‘but she doesn’t or she’s pretending not to and im so done.’ i don’t know who you ladies were, i never saw your faces, i wish you all the best with your friend.

- the Intensely Cheerful & Organised Mother who was my seat buddy on flight 1. you were corralling three teen daughters &, from the glimpses of your notebook i caught, were studying for a test on medicine or maybe nursing. i know you were all on your way to see taylor & you were Determined that it was going to be the perfect trip. i have never seen someone work so hard at getting their luggage to fit in the overhead compartments but you managed to find a space for all of it & i applaud you now

i know there’s more but im for bed. basically i love to fly & im so happy to have done it again

#you can ignore this

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covenantofthedeep · 9 months

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to kiss in cars and downtown bars ☆

☆ feat. | kazuha, venti, kunikuzushi, heizou, xiao and aether! ☆ summary | you go out to a bar with them. antics ☆ tw: mentions of alcohol and bars, suggestive - reader is referred to as "pretty", "beautiful" , "handsome" etc ☆ author's note | this is perfectly normal i am perfectly normal for venti i am so n o rmal. im so sorry if this is too suggestive

venti |

you're sitting on one of the high barstools, watching venti out of the corner of your eye. he's singing, gesturing wildly with the hand that's holding a wineglass filled with something that looks like champagne, and his hair's not in its typical two braids; you'd watched a group of girls do it up in a singular loose dutch braid. you wonder, briefly, how it would look loose, cascading around his face and catching on his cheekbones. you wonder how it would look if you ran your hands through it, how it would look sticking up? you wonder how he would look untucked, maybe if you kissed him....

when you snap out of your reverie, he's staring right at you, a knowing smirk ticking up the corner of his lips. as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. a hot flush spreads up from your chest, and you're positive you've turned red. the flashing lights play across his face as he tilts his head, and suddenly the room is far too hot, far too confining, and you're regretting coming out at all. you turn away and flash a smile at the bartender, setting a few bills down on the counter before gathering your purse and shouldering your way through the crowd.

outside, it's started to drizzle, and the air is cool and crisp on your fiery cheeks. you close your eyes and turn your face towards the stars, listening to the sounds of the bar behind you, the wind whistling through your hair. you shiver; it had been warmer when you had left and so you had neglected to bring a jacket, and now goosebumps pop up all over your arms. you sigh, thumbing your phone in your purse, ready to call a taxi to take you home, when someone grabs your arm from behind.

you spin around, muffling a shriek--and realize it's venti. he's smiling at you in that self-satisfied way, the same smirk he was giving you in the bar, the same smirk that has your heart pounding faster than it should be and your cheeks flushing. "venti!" you stutter out, squinting at him. "what are you doing out here? you should be in there." you gesture in the vague direction of the club.

venti's gaze flicks up and down your body, and suddenly, despite the goosebumps, you're far too hot. "well," he says, shifting from foot to foot, and is it your imagination, or does he look nervous? "well, you looked intoxicated. and i thought i should check on you, and help you get home, since you're my friend."

at that word, friend, you deflate. of course. you're just imagining things. you're just friends. you clear your throat. "i appreciate it, but i'm fine, really. i'm just tired, seriously. i think i'll call a cab and go home."

venti quirks an eyebrow, toying with a loose strand of hair that hangs in front of his face. you're seized with the sudden urge to tuck it behind his ear and you entertain the idea. just friends. "do you want me to walk with you?" he asks. "it's such a lovely night, you can see all the stars!"

you can't help yourself; you glance up. raindrops pitter down your face, trickling down the neckline of your top. you shiver. clouds coat the sky, a quilt of puffy gray against a deep navy background. "you can't see any stars, venti," you say, exasperated, still looking up. "and i'm cold. i think i'll just.. call a taxi. thank--" you look at him and cut yourself off, because he's staring at you.

the look in his eyes sends a sucker punch to your gut, knocking the wind out of your lungs and seizing you with the urge to curl into yourself. then he blinks and the moment's gone, and he's holding out his coat. "here," he says gently. "i'll walk with you."

you take it from him, and your fingers graze his, and it feels like you've been dipped into a pot of molten lava.

walking home is almost torture; walking just so apart, close enough that your fingers brush when you step but not enough for you to grab his hand if you wanted. the rain soaks your hair, plastering it to your forehead and droplets collect on his eyelashes like diamonds. when you reach your door, he smiles. "have a good night, yn," he tells you, turning to make his way off of your stoop.

"wait," you call, taking off his jacket. the rain plunges around you in ice-cold sheets, and you miss it already; the smell of champagne and flowers clinging to the warm fabric. he glances over his shoulder. "keep it," he says. "i'll get it next time."

and he winks.

kazuha |

when kazuha calls you, for some reason, you pick up. and, for some reason, when he invites you to the bar downtown (it'll be fun, i promise) you say yes. when he hangs up, you cradle your head in your hands and debate calling him back and cancelling, but then again, it's been a hard week, and maybe a night out is just what you need?

lurking in the corner of the bar, you realize that a night out is not what you need. the bar is hot and stuffy, and everyone reeks of cheap alcohol and cigarettes. you wish desperately for your bed, and you lost track of kazuha an hour ago. you cup your hand around your phone screen, squinting to see the time, and realize that it's almost dead. "shit," you mutter. "shit, shit. shit." you lean your head back against the wall and close your eyes, considering walking home or maybe taking public transport? but at this hour, the buses are notoriously known to be packed full of drunks and junkies, and you have no desire to deal with that, not now.

"hey, yn," slurs a voice near your ear. "yn, yn, yn! yn! can you hear me? yn!"

you jerk your eyes open and squint. "kazuha? are you... are you drunk?"

kazuha laughs; a noise so uncaring and free, so unlike his usual self that you have no choice but to smile. his usually pale cheeks are flushed, whether it be from the drink or the heat, you don't know. his hair hangs around his face, and the top button of his shirt has come undone. you wrench your eyes away from it and search his face instead. "drunk? me?" he asks, so innocent and dubious that you could've believed him if it weren't for the fact that he's leaning heavily against the wall. "i'm not drunk. i haven't drunk anything tonight. i'm just saying hi to my favorite pretty friend. can i not say hi to my favort.. favort... favorite pretty friend?"

you flush, tearing your eyes away from his face. "do you know how you'll get home, kazuha?"

he ignores this question and instead takes your face in his hands. "your eyes," he says, eyebrows furrowing, "are like pools. i could, i could dive in them. and swim. mmm, i love swimming." he lets go of your cheekbones, the skin where his hands were on you burning, almost as if on fire. "hmmm."

"okay, that's enough," you say, taking his elbow and steering him towards the exit. "i'll take you home. do you have a car?"

"yes! yes, i have a car. i drove here. are you going to drive me, favorite pretty friend?" he asks, wrapping an arm around your waist.

and so you wind up in kazuha's shitty red bug, his forehead resting against the dashboard. "kazuha?" you ask worriedly. "are you going to puke?"

he laughs dryly. "maybe. it wouldn't make a difference, not in this shitty car anyway. it's already been ... trashed." he leans back in his seat, finally, and gazes up at the stars. "the sky looks beautiful," he whispers, almost to himself. then he looks at you, the sparkles of the constellations reflected in his eyes causing you to blink and lose your focus for a moment.

the rest of the ride passes in silence, with you occasionally glancing over to check on his state--every single time, he's watching you. you can feel his eyes rake over your body, pausing when he gets to your eyes. you shift uncomfortably in your seat; why is he doing this? after maybe the fifth minute of this, you pull the car over. "okay, what is it?"

"what?" he asks quickly, folding his hands in his lap.

"why do you keep... staring at me? looking at me? do i have food on my face?" nervousness keeps you rambling, keeps you from looking at him.

"oh, i... no," he mutters, and when you finally do look at him, a flush is creeping up his neck.

"then?" you demand, impatient. you hadn't signed up for this, babysitting a drunk kazuha when you could've been tucked into your bed with your book, maybe some ice cream.

"i was just, i was just thinking how much i'd like to... kiss you."

you freeze; opening your mouth, and then closing it. "i'm sorry, what?"

and then he's holding your face, similar to the way he did in the bar, and tipping your chin up. his hair falls into your face, feather-light strands brushing your cheeks. his eyes catch onto yours, intoxicating, filled with the night sky. he brings his lips to yours, and he tastes like sweet champagne and, undeniably, kazuha.

when he pulls away, your hands are shaking on the steering wheel and he settles back with a self-satisfied smirk. "well," he says conversationally, his flushed cheeks and blown pupils shattering his façade of nonchalance. "now that we've got that out of the way, shall we continue?"

kunikuzushi |

you heave a sigh, nursing a coke, scrolling through instagram on your phone. why are you here, at a dinky bar, with kuni nowhere in sight? he had been glued to your side for practically the entire night; sullen, quiet, and holding a bloody mary from which he had taken exactly two sips, and then all of a sudden, he'd vanished.

now, in his place, is a burly boy with his hair combed aggressively away from his face--he's been trying to buy you drinks all night, all of which you had politely refused. now, he's teetering on the edge between tipsy and fully, completely, wasted. "oh, come on, you pretty little thing," he urges. "just one drink? just one drink and one dance, come on."

you fight the urge to get up and leave; that'll make him angry, and in his current state, you don't want to deal with it. "no, thank you," you say again, politely. "i'm the designated driver for my friend, and i have to stay sober."

he rolls his eyes heavily, taking a huge swig from the current drink in his hand. "oh, but fuck that, handsome. you can just come home with me, and your friend can call an uuuuber. come on, i promise i'll make it worthwhile!"

you shove down a retch and flash him a civil smile, turning back to your phone. you jump when he slams a glass down in front of you. "drink!" he shouts, and you cringe away from his flying spittle. "drink, godammit! i said, drink, i don't care about your pathetic little friend!"

you open your mouth, ready to bite back a retort and storm out of here, fuck kuni, when none other than kuni stands between you and the man. all five-foot-four of him. you can't help but feel flattered, his hat clenched in his fist and his hair mussed. he leans close to the man and whispers something in his ear that causes him to jerk back and settle on a stool at the other end of the counter.

"kuni," you breathe, grabbing his shoulder. he spins around, looking at a spot above your right ear. "kuni, thank you. i mean--i could've handled it, but thank you."

"i know you could've handled it," he spits out. "i just. well. i wanted to help. you've been sitting here, and you look so--" he clamps his mouth shut, pointedly looking at your eyebrow. "anyways. are you ready to go?"

you shake your head, confused. "i mean, yes-- i am, but i thought you were having fun? don't you... we can stay here a little longer, i don't mind."

"no," he says stiffly. "no, we're going. i would like to go now, so we are. unless you'd rather stay here with that guy?" he raises an eyebrow and gestures towards the man he'd just run off.

you can't suppress the chuckle that bubbles out of your chest. classic kuni, ditching halfway through and taking everyone with him. although in this case you can't be annoyed, judging how you weren't enjoying yourself anyway.

"okay, no, no, i'm coming," you laugh, grabbing his hand. "c'mon, it's an absolute madhouse. keep ahold of me while we go through, otherwise who knows what would happen?"

kuni has seized up, looking at your hand in his, his hat dangling limply from his other hand. "um," he mutters. "um, i. yeah, sure." and he drags you through the crowd.

kuni's hand in yours, his rough callouses against your smooth palm, sends sparks up your arm. you want to watch his constantly angry face split into a smile--or at least ease up on the frown. you want to watch him laugh. and you want to kiss that bastard.

the two of you emerge from the bar, stepping out of the suffocating heat into cold night air that can't be above freezing. why had you opted to go sleeveless? you shiver, rubbing your hands up and down your arms, casting a glance at kuni's thick jacket. "kuni," you say, smiling at him. "can i borrow your jacket? it's so cold out, and i don't want to walk home...."

kuni scoffs. "who said we were walking home? it's cold, i don't want you to -- i mean, it's too cold for this. my ears are going numb."

you tilt your head. "you don't want me to what?"

his pale cheeks go red. "i mean, i don't want you to catch a cold." you laugh, and he quickly adds, "just because, you know, then you wouldn't be able to drive me anywhere! no other reason, that's it, i promise."

he looks so flustered you almost feel sorry for him, but you can't stop. "you're worried about me, aren't you?"

he crosses his arms. "i'm not. i am not worried about you. stop smiling at me like that! it makes me want to--" he cuts himself off, but this time you don't goad him. you look at him, your heart a butterfly in your chest, your hand warm in his. you step a little bit closer and bend and place a kiss on his cheek. "just for warmth," you tell him, his face beet red and his hand death gripping yours.

xiao |

somehow you've persuaded xiao to let you put his hair up into a ponytail, and archons, you want to kiss him.

you lean against him as he tugs on his hair, scowling at his reflection in his phone camera. "xiao, leave it alone," you tell him, pushing his hands away. "it looks good! it looks good. i promise."

he sighs. "i guess if you say so," he mutters, tucking his phone into his slacks and shouldering his way into the bar. you lag behind, watching the muscles of his arms tense as he reaches up--again--to tighten the ponytail. he turns around and flashes you a small smile, pointing towards the bar. you give him a thumbs-up, grab a coke, and lean against the wall.

it's two hours later, after you've struck up a conversation with a boy--he's awfully cute, you have to admit--that you realize you haven't seen xiao in quite some time and you haven't checked your phone. pulling it out, you see that xiao's blown it up with texts, ranging from yn, where are you? to yn, i'm going to leave without you to yn, coem hep me. you excuse yourself and stand up on your tiptoes, scanning the floor, a furrow creasing between your eyebrows. he didn't really leave without you, did he?

arms wrap around you from behind and you whirl around, coming face-to-face with xiao's chips-of-gold eyes, his nose an inch away from yours. "yn," he says, his voice a deep rumble. "there you are, i've been looking for ages."

you stumble back. his breath smells like wine, and he smells like his cologne--sharp, faintly floral. you inhale deeply, reveling in the smell, and then ask, "xiao, are you drunk?"

he scoffs, shaking his head, but you can tell--he's listing to the side, his hands gripping your shoulders far too tight, his last couple of texts. that explains it. sober xiao would never be this close to you, let alone touch you. and yet, you wonder, staring at his lips, if perhaps...? what other things could drunk xiao do?

you step closer, grabbing onto his forearms. "do we need to leave? are you tired?"

"no," he replies, turning his head. you watch his adam's apple bob and wonder, again, what it would be like to kiss him. "i was just... tired of you flirting with that pretty boy."

you let loose a sharp burst of a laugh, thinking that this must be a joke. it has to be. xiao would never say anything like this, xiao would never act like this, this has to be a fluke. but when you look at him, his eyes are serious, his face unsmiling. "oh, xiao," you say finally. "are you jealous? you shouldn't be. you're awfully pretty as well, you know." and then you clap a hand to your mouth, surprised that you said that. out loud. to xiao.

but he's smiling at you now, his eyes crinkling at the corners, making him look absolutely irresistible. "am i, now?"

and he watches you flounder for words, burying your face in your hands. "no," you reply, your voice muffled. "you're... hideous. ugly. disgusting, even."

"hmm. sure, yn," he says, stooping to pull your hands away from your burning face. "let's get you home. i think you're a little drunk." and with that, he plants a kiss on your mouth.

shikanoin heizou |

you and heizou had planned to meet at the bar, because you lived on opposite sides of the city and catching a taxi together seemed more like a waste of money than anything. he'd called and let you know that he was standing just inside, so you head for the door and let yourself in, shoving yourself past the crush of bodies, desperately scanning the crowd for any glimpse of inazuma's famous detective. finally, you see him, and your heart... stops.

his hair is loose, his usual headband missing, and he's in something so much simpler than what he usually wears--your heart starts up again and stutters, and you wonder briefly how you haven't fainted yet. "heizou!" you shout, gesturing wildly. he turns away from the girl he's talking to, and his smile freezes on his face. his eyes rove up and down your body, taking you in, and his gaze pins you in place. you couldn't move, you think, even if he asked you to. not with those eyes on you.

you curtsy, trying to deflect his attention from you, trying to get him to stop staring at you like that. "yn." he smiles, winking at you. "look at you, all dressed up. i can hardly keep my eyes off you." you blush, knowing he's just a flirt and he says this to everyone, but you can't help but wonder, just a little, what it would be like to have him all to yourself.

"you look not too shabby yourself," you manage to force out, butterflies taking flight in your stomach when he grabs your wrist and yanks you out towards the dance floor.

it's five songs later when you protest against another dance, claiming your feet hurt--you've got blisters on the back of your feet and your toes feel like they're being severed with a chainsaw. you're not drunk, but he's vaguely tipsy, more flirtatious than usual; his hand is on your hip and the other is on the back of your neck, cradling it like you're going to kiss him. which you just might.

"noooo, yn," heizou whines, reaching for you as you peel off your heels and step back. you laugh. "heizou, you'll have no problem finding someone else to dance with. i guarantee it."

he pouts. "but i want you to dance with me! no one else! yn, please, please, please...."

the words send sparks through your chest and a flush rising in your cheeks, but you sit down on a chair. "no," you say firmly. "heizou, seriously. you're a dignified detective, act like it!"

he makes his way over to you and plops down by your feet, resting his cheek on your bare knee. "i am always dignified," he says, his voice muffled by his position. he turns so that his chin digs into your kneecap, and normally you'd push him off, but for some reason, you can't move. the place where his chin is on your knee is burning hot, boiling even, and you wish desperately that you were outside, sitting on the curb in the cool night air.

and that's where you wind up ten minutes later, heizou leaning against you, waiting for a taxi. "i don't understand why you don't have a car," you say, gently trying to shove him off.

"i don't understand why you don't," he retorts, braiding a strand of your hair. you sigh.

"it's just not logical for me. i can take the bus. but you can't, because you have no idea how to take a bus."

heizou rolls his eyes. "i can too take a bus. i'll prove it to you." he makes to stand up, but you grab his arm and pull him down.

"you can prove it to me another time, when you're not so... inebriated."

"inebriated," he repeats. he turns so that he's looking at you, staring right at you, your gaze caught in his, unable to look away. he leans closer, as though he's going to kiss you, and for a moment, you think he might. maybe, if you could just....

a honk blares beside you, and the two of you jump apart as though electrocuted. heizou's flushing, not looking at you, rubbing the back of his neck, and you're sure you look the same.

"a cab?" the driver asks, uncaring of what he's just interrupted. "a cab for ... yn?"

aether |

aether's handsome, and he's been staring at you for the better part of the last fifteen minutes. you and aether are friends; not best friends, not acquaintances. but you're just friends, which is what you keep repeating to yourself when you're seized with the urge to grab his face and kiss him senseless. he's in a loose black top with the upper two buttons undone, his face is flushed with heat, and his hair is escaping its typical braid.

"here," aether says, sliding a drink over to you. you take it from him, raising it in a cheers. you take a sip, closing your eyes. when you open them, aether's making a face at you over your glass, and you choke. as you're about to lower it down, he reaches out a finger and tips the glass up, spilling juice all over you. you cough, gripping the counter for support, frantically fanning the air in front of your face as though it would help.

aether cackles madly, snorting as you gasp for air. a dimple forms in one cheek, the perfect size to press your thumb to it. "oh, that was funny. oh, the look on your face!" he picks up his drink and takes a sip, making a face at the sharp taste.

"it's not funny!" you wheeze, crossing your arms--and then lowering them as you realize that you can't breathe.

"it was so funny," he retorts, setting his drink down. he leans closer. "you have to admit," he says seriously, eyes searching your face, "that it was funny. you're laughing."

you want to slap him, but you also want to grab his hair and pull. would it be soft, you wonder? would it tangle around your fingers....

you shake your head to clear your thoughts, almost as if they're cobwebs. you let loose a final bark of a cough and cast a glare at the glass that sits beside you, pushing it away. aether tilts his head and studies you, sipping his drink slowly. you lean closer and watch his eyes widen a fraction, bracing your elbows on his knees. his face flushes slightly--and you knock the bottom of the glass up, spilling the liquid inside all down the front of his shirt.

aether splutters, jerking his knees up so that your hands slip and you have to right yourself on the stool, laughing. "oh, you should've seen your face!" you tease, handing him a stack of napkins.

aether stops scrubbing at his shirt and sets his napkins down. you can't tell if he's gathering his composure or plotting something back against you, and you study his face, trying to figure out what he's thinking, when he reaches for you and grabs the back of your neck with one hand and your waist with the other, standing right in front of you. his face is so close to yours that you can feel his breath, smelling like alcohol and cherries. his eyes are wide, his pupils blown, and yet his lips never touch yours.

he finally pulls back, and your whole body is hot, and you find that your fingers have found their way to his wrist and your nails dug into his flesh. "you should've seen your face," he says, grabbing the pile of napkins beside him.

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roach-works · 10 months

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weird realization of the night that most of you people following me can't have any idea of who i actually am because i share information about myself very infrequently and only when i want to make a point about something else. but also ive been on tumblr for more than a decade so i just assume im like... part of the neighborhood. like a raccoon in the trash. i live here. you know me.

but in case you don't hi im roach im in my thirties and i used to be a queer girl illustrator and now im a queer man working in manufacturing and ive had adhd this whole time and i used to write a lot of weird filthy fanfic and now im working on mostly original romance and erotica these days (if you like gay post-apocalyptic sci fi please check out Stories Of The Michigan Fleet).

i live in the american midwest at the moment but im probably going to spend the winter in oregon with my family. my current hobby is quilting but im intending to get back into drawing eventually, so stay tuned for a side blog. ive been called everything from a terf to a self-hating homophobic lesbian separatist, so if you see people being mean to me online feel free to make up some even better accusations. i faked the moon landing, personally, by the way. took about a week in 2014.

i like answering asks but im not very prompt or polite, so i don't get too many. feel free to say hi, tho.

#roach's kawaii life

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star-writes-sometimes · 10 months

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bullying and cuddles

word count: 2.3k

cw: fem reader, reader implied to have anxiety cause im projecting, swearing, bullying (affectionate), fluff, idiots in love, probably ooc tangerine but whatever

a/n: i needed domestic fluff, is this similar to other stuff ive written? yes but i dont care i love domestic fluff. i geniuenly was debating posting this because i kinda hate it but yknow c'est la vie

---—---

you emerged from the safe house bathroom after brushing your teeth in an old tshirt and pyjama shorts. both of the boys bedroom doors were closed and you could hear the thomas the tank engine theme song coming from lemon’s room.

the door of your room was open and your suitcase was on the ground, clothes messily thrown all over the place. you had been here for about four days now so you were settled in as much as you could be in a new environment.

you and the twins were staking out a place and it was long and tedious, by this point you were thoroughly bored and ready for this to end so you could go back home. you couldn’t stand another night in the cold unfamiliar bed.

so, instead you knocked on tangerine’s door.

“come in.”

you opened the door and walked in, quickly shutting it behind you and leaning against it, facing tangerine. he was sat up in his bed reading a book. he was wearing a plain tshirt and pyjama pants. he looked comfy, more relaxed than he usually was. the quilt was folded neatly at the end of his bed and his suitcase on the floor was immaculately organised, a stark contrast to how your room looked.

“hi,” he said smiling at you.

“hi,” you returned the smile.

“cute pyjamas.”

you were wearing a faded marvin the martian tshirt and pyjama shorts covered in little oranges, “they’re oranges.”

“you sure you didn’t wear them just for me, love?” he smiled wider at you, cocking his head to the side slightly, “cause you look adorable.”

“why would i wear them for you, you’re my third favourite person in this house,” you scoffed.

“are you putting yourself above me?”

“i know my worth,” you squinted at the book he had in his hands, “whatcha reading?”

“uhh,” he glanced down at the page he was on, “the hunger games.”

“really?”

“why are you surprised?”

“i don’t know,” you laughed slightly, “i can only image you reading old or pretentious books.”

“are you calling me pretentious?”

you snapped your fingers in realisation, “tolstoy, you seem like the tolstoy type have you read anna karenina?”

“well, yes i have but i don’t just read old books.”

“so, hunger games.”

“yeah, it’s good criticism on violence in capitalistic societies.”

“i don’t think professional assassins should have a say on violence in capitalistic societies.”

he rolled his eyes, “then i enjoy the commentary on consumerism.”

you glanced at the gold jewellery on the bedside table, “i don’t think you can have a say on that either.”

he followed you eye line, “oh fuck off.”

you laughed, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” you shifted around slightly in your spot against the door.

“did you come in here for a reason or just to take the piss out of me?”

you thought back to your lifeless room, “i was bored and i couldn’t annoy lemon.”

“why not, you’d probably enjoy his company more than mine,” his eyes drifted back down to his book.

“he’s watching thomas and there’s only so much of that i can take.”

he nodded, “understandable.”

there was a pause and you fidgeted with your hands nervously. you didn’t notice tangerine staring at you intently, contemplating what he should do.

“come sit with me,” he gestured to the empty spot next to him.

“are you sure?” you hesitated, bringing up your hand to chew on your nails.

“‘course love.”

you slowly moved over and sat on the bed next to him, keeping distance between you both on the queen sized bed.

it was silent again and you pulled your knees up against your chest, resting your chin on your knee.

“what part are you up to?” you asked.

“the interviews with caesar.” he turned his head and focused on you, noting your position and the gap you put between the both of you, “have you read it before?”

“back when i was a teenager but not since then.” you avoided his eyes, feeling anxious about the sharp eye contact, “have you read it before?”

“yeah, i’ve read it a few times.”

you just hummed in response. despite the nervous thoughts running through your head it felt better being in here with tangerine than being alone in your room. it was better having anxiety over being alone with the guy you were crushing on than the emptiness you would have felt by yourself in your room.

“come here love.” he said softly.

“what?” your eyes snapped up to him.

“sit next to me properly.”

you moved slightly closer, still leaving space between you both.

tangerine rolled his eyes and put his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, “i’m not gonna fucking bite ya love, you can sit next to me.”

you scrunched your nose up at him, “i just didn’t want to get cooties.”

“you think i have cooties?”

“yup you have phytophthora gummosis.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?”

you laughed and leant into him more, “it's a disease that affects citrus trees.”

he tried not to smile, “how long have you been waiting to make that joke.”

“a few weeks,” you smiled brightly, “i did research on citrus trees.”

“just so you could take the piss out of me?”

“i had to, you look cute when you’re all annoyed and scrunch your eyebrows up.” you reached up and run over one of his eyebrows with your thumb.

“don’t call me cute.”

“why not? you are.”

“i’m meant to be intimidating.”

“how could anyone be scared of you? you’re reading the hunger games.”

“very funny, i can be scary and enjoy the hunger games.”

“are you team peeta or gale?”

“definitely peeta, he was smart and a romantic,” tangerine said, like he had thought about it a lot before.

“oh so you’re a romantic that adds to your scariness.”

“you’re bullying me, you’re a bully,” he pinched your side, enjoying the way you squirmed into him.

you yawned and put your head on his shoulder. he repositioned his arm that was around your shoulder and started stroking your hair.

“are you tired darling?”

you blinked sluggishly, “yeah… i should probably go-”

you started to get up but was stopped and cut off by tangerine.

“no, stay,” he held onto you, “you just relax.”

you bite your lip anxiously but try to relax into him again. you stared at the book in his hand, studying the mockingjay symbol on the cover.

“what’s on your mind pet?”

you felt your neck heat up at the unfamiliar nickname, “uh can you maybe read to me?”

“you want me to read to you?”

you nodded.

“you sure you’ll be able to understand with the accent?”

“you’re british not an alien, i can understand you fine.”

“okay.” he pulled you close, you settled with your head on his chest and his arm comfortably around you. he smiled down at you, silently grateful that you couldn’t see the way he was looking at you, “you ready?”

“yeah,”

“okay darling,” he took his focus off you and onto the book, “i’m still in a daze for the first part of peeta’s interview. he has the audience from the get-go, though; i can hear them laughing, shouting out. he plays up the baker’s son thing, comparing tributes to the bread from their districts.”

“what would your strategy be in the interviews?” you asked.

“i’m not sure.”

“i don’t think you could pull off the charming thing.”

“wow, thanks love your doing wonders for my self esteem,” he replied sarcastically.

you smiled, “no that’s not what i meant, you’re plenty charming, i just think you’d be better as one of those career tributes everyone is scared of.”

“i thought you said i wasn’t scary?”

“shhh that was minutes ago you should’ve forgotten about that by now, just keep reading.”

“right sorry,” he laughed slightly, “then he has a funny anecdote about the perils of the capital showers. ‘tell me, do i still smell like roses?’ he asks caesar, and then there's a whole run where they take turns sniffing each other that brings down the house.”

“maybe you would be charming, you always smell really nice.”

“thank you, darling,” he kissed your forehead and pulled you impossibly closer, “you smell nice too.”

you smiled and adjusted your position so you could hold onto his shirt.

“i’m coming back into focus when caesar asks him if he has a girlfriend back home.” he continued, “peeta hesitates, then gives him an unconvincing shake of his head. ‘handsome lad like you. there must be some special girl. come on what’s her name?’ says caesar. peeta sighs. ‘well there is this one girl. i’ve had a crush on her ever since i can remember. but i’m pretty sure she didn’t know i was alive before the reaping.’”

tangerine glanced down at you half surprised and half disappointed you didn’t interrupt again. he liked listening to you talk.

your breathing had evened and your eyes had closed. you’d fallen asleep against him. he bookmarked the book and placed it on his side table. he carefully reached down, grabbed the quilt and pulled it over the both of you.

“goodnight, love.” he kissed your cheek gently.

—

lemon woke up the next morning and stumbled into the kitchen, prepared to see tangerine already up and cooking breakfast for the three of you. he was shocked to find the kitchen empty, no trace of you or tangerine.

he looked over at both your bedroom doors and saw yours open and empty. weird. you were usually the last awake, having to be woken up by one of the twins.

lemon walked over to tangerine’s door and opened it, “hey bruv have you seen-” he cut himself off looking down at the scene in front of him.

you were asleep in tangerine’s arms and he was holding you close. he was awake and staring down at you, playing with your hair and gently tracing your features as you slept.

lemon snickered, “whats going on here, then?”

“shut the fuck up,” tangerine immediately fired back but lemon knew it was less harsh than it usually was. despite all the teasing tangerine knew he’d get, he was happy.

“this is cute, it really is.” lemon quipped, “but i have no clue how to make breakfast so please get up soon.”

“i’m not interrupting her sleep just cause your fucking incompetent.”

“fine, just don’t blame me if i burn this place down trying to make toast,” lemon started to leave.

“stop, just wait ten minutes then i’ll make you some fucking food.”

“thanks bruv, really appreciate it.”

“whatever.”

lemon left and tangerine was alone with you again.

tangerine moved your hair away from your face, “sweetheart?” he kissed your forehead, “if you don’t wake up soon the smoke alarm will probably wake you.”

you stretched slightly and snuggled into tangerine more, “this is nicer than the way lemon wakes me up.”

“if we don’t get up soon lemon is gonna try to cook,” he held your face and kissed you cheek gently.

“we can’t have that he’ll probably poison us all,” you sat up and rubbed your eyes, “why is your bed comfier than mine?”

“because i actually make mine?” he got up and stared down at you still wrapped in the blanket.

“ha ha,” you laughed dryly and fell back into the bed.

you closed your eyes again and settled back into the bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin. it really was a comfortable bed.

your peaceful rest was interrupted by getting lifted into the air.

your eyes flew open as tangerine picked you up, carrying you into the kitchen. you wrapped your arms around his neck and held on tightly.

"what the fuck are you doing, you fucking numpty!?"

"you looked peaceful i didn't want to have to wake you again."

"well it didn't fucking work you twat."

"sorry, love," he set you down on the kitchen bench and kissed you cheek, "but you look cute when your annoyed."

you felt your face heat slightly and turned your face away from him.

"stop flirting and make me breakfast." lemon interrupted.

"you could say please, you wanker," tangerine snapped at him.

"please, make us breakfast, please, mr. fruit?" you said giving your best puppy dog eyes.

"for you, not for him, darling."

you smiled, "thank you, tan."

“you’re a twat,” lemon added.

tangerine flipped lemon off and started making pancakes. you jumped off the kitchen bench and moved over to the kettle, checking it was full before boiling it.

“lemon, do you want a cuppa?”

“yeah,” lemon mumbled, distracted by his comic.

tangerine whacked lemon up the side of his head.

“yes please, sweetheart," lemon corrected himself.

“thanks lem,” you laughed slightly at the sibling abuse.

the kettle flicked off and you finished making the three cups of tea and handed one to lemon who smiled in thanks. you walked over to tangerine and placed one on the counter in front of him.

tangerine grabbed your waist and pulled you in for a kiss on the cheek, “thank you pet.”

you pulled away from him and started drinking your own cup, watching tangerine as he cooked and plated the golden pancakes.

“so did you two fuck last night?” lemon abruptly asked.

you choked on your tea and tangerines head snapped up to glare at him.

“no we slept together,” tangerine slowly replied.

lemon snorts, “i thought that was the same thing.”

“no you bellend we actually just slept, we were tired,” tangerine snapped.

you gulped down the rest of your tea and quickly placed your mug in the sink, “i’m gonna go shower boys, please save me some pancakes.” you smiled at the both and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

once you were gone lemon spoke up again, “you gonna tell her you love her yet?"

“shut up,” tangerine hissed, glancing at the shut bathroom door.

“she likes you too you know.”

tangerine didn’t respond for a few seconds, “really?”

“you’re in love with each other you both just fucking stupid.”

and for once tangerine didn’t feel the need to throw an insult back, he just reveled at the thought that you could like him too.

#tangerine #bullet train #tangerine x reader #bullet train 2022 #bullet train x reader #tangerine x you

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