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#of course he's home. they're all he's ever known.
rory-cakes · 2 months
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Alastor's Birdy
Alastor wasn’t a good man. 
In fact, he was no longer a man at all. 
He was the Radio Demon, an overlord of hell, owner of souls, and host of the Hazbin Hotel. 
The only evidence that he was ever human was the gold band worn around his ring finger. No one seemed to notice it; if they did, they didn’t dare ask. 
Not much was known about the terrifying radio demon. The others at the hotel often wondered about the origins of the great Alastor Altruist. 
Well, not until Mimzy comes along.
“Alastooor, Sweetie, doll-face! So good to see you. How’ve ya been? Good? Good.”
Alastor hugs the small woman while everyone stares in confusion. 
“Listen, I was in the neighborhood! I heard you were staying at this ritzy ditzy slob factory-”
A glint of gold catches the light.
“Oh! By the way, where’s your little birdy?”
Alastor’s who? The confusion only continued to grow in the room. 
“Oh, Mimzy, you know she would never have ended up down here.”
Who are they talking about?
“Ah yes, she was such a kind soul. The best of the best.”
Finally, someone asks. 
“Yo! Lady! Who ya talkin' about?”
“His missus, of course!”
His what?
“YOU WERE MARRIED?!”
Alastor’s eye twitched as private information about his life came to light.
“I am married; we never divorced.”
Everyone stared in disbelief. How could anyone marry Alastor, of all people? 
Wait-
“You said she would never have ended up down here. Does that mean that your wife is in heaven? Is she an angel?”
“Charlie, don’t be ridiculous! No one that good could have married him!” 
Mimzy pipes up,
“She’s right. Y/n Altruist was too good for the world and sang like a canary!” 
That she did…
“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into
Them there eyes
You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with
Them there eyes”
All eyes gazed upon the stage. His little birdy was much like him in how they entranced others with their voices. If all he heard for the rest of eternity was that beautiful song of hers, then he could die a happy man. 
“They make me feel happy
They make me blue
No stallin', I'm fallin'
Going in a great big way for sweet little you”
It was never supposed to last. It was just for a while to make him seem more normal. To hide his less than socially acceptable hobbies. But she was light, and he was a moth to a flame. As he felt the weight of the box in his hand he wondered how someone like him got blessed with someone like her. 
“My heart is jumpin', you sure started something with
Them there eyes
You'd better watch them if you're wise
They sparkle, they bubble
They're gonna get you in a whole lot of trouble
You're overworkin' them, there's danger lurkin' in
Them there eyes”
Her eyes brightened as they landed on him sitting at his usual table in the back. He was done with work early and had come to pick her up so they could walk home together. 
“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into
Them there eyes
You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with
Them there eyes” 
HIS. She was his. He was hers. They were each others.
The only proof that Alastor was ever human was the gold band around his ring finger.
A/N: Here's the fic lol @mag-chan
part 2
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sparklovespink · 2 months
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ENHA HYUNG LINE! --- gf w/ strict parents!
18+, blow job, fingering, slut shaming, risky + semi-public sex, lots of teasing,
⠀⠀ ⠀myslut masterlist
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HEESEUNG was not liked by your parents when they met him. they like him a lot more now, at least. loves to help around the house when you have him over for family celebrations. still, when's he's over they never fail to remind you, "keep that door open." you do, because when have you ever known better? not until heeseung shows you. the placement of your room has your bed not in the view from the doorframe so he sits himself at the edge, you knelt in front of him while he lets you rest your head in his hand.
he hushes you, pulls out his cock and guides your mouth onto his tip. he's taking in all of your soft moans, throws his head back at the way your lips kiss along his length. "you just love my cock in this pretty mouth. can't get enough of it." he hisses through gritted teeth when you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock. the risk of getting caught has him so turned on, has him pushing his cock further till your really gagging on him, because you look so fucking pretty choking on his dick.
JAY'S the type of guy to get along with your family immediately. your parents love jay, your siblings think he's the best guy you could've possible brought home, and you know your family would trust him with anything. he comes over for family dinner parties and social events, and your father introduces him to everyone.
so of course no one thinks much when the two of you slip away, jay pulling you into the first empty room down the hall, pressing you against the door. keeps his fingers in your mouth as he fucks you, rolling his hips against your ass. "imagine if you're parents knew how much of a slut you were?" he coos, listening to you whine around his fingers, begging him not to tell. "don't want them to know how good your boyfriend fucks this cunt?" he pulls his fingers out of his mouth and brings them down to your clit, teasing you because he's such a meanie. "c'mon, try to stay quiet for me baby."
JAKE'S a sweet heart, one hundred percent. your parents think he's so sweet, ridiculously kind. sometimes they think he's questionable but they treat him like a son-in-law nonetheless. and he's managed to convince them to let you come over for the holidays. and they think you'll be skiing and going on coffee dates.
which you do, at least when jake doesn't have you bent over the expensive island table of his parents vacation home, splitting you open with his big cock. the house is empty, so he's not holding back, fucking into you at an ruthless pace. you don't know how long he's been at it, fucking you so hard you can barely think about the snow angels you had asked him to make with you just moments ago. "s'much better than being out in the snow, right baby?" he'll ask, balls deep inside your warm cunt, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips. "mmm, so much better."
SUNGHOON might have been liked by your parents before you even realized loved him. they worship the ground he walks on, always inviting him over without even asking you. sometimes, you'll come home to find them sitting with sunghoon in the living room, waving you over. sometimes you wondered if these were really the same strict parents that raised you.
and they're love for sunghoon has you so amused. what would they think if they knew he was the one finger fucking your poor cunt barely minutes after greeting them? the two of you on your bed, and he has you sat on his lap, hand in your panties and his fingers working fast. you clench so hard at the sound of footsteps, thighs closing. he forces them back open, scissors his fingers inside of you. "shh baby, s'all good." he whispers, groping your tit with his free hand as you grind down on his thigh, "you're alright."
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marcsburnerphone · 2 months
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And they were roomates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: some awkward moments, kissing
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7!!!! - part 8
———————
“Look how content he looks, his eyebrows aren’t doing that scowl thing.” Gaz whispers to the boys beside him.
Ghost does a peek over to see the sight but out of all of them he knows best how light of a sleeper John can be, so one look and he quickly he backs up.
“Take a picture.” soap says menacingly. 
“I wouldn’t do that.” Ghost says.
Of course Gaz listens to the trouble maker, whipping his phone out of his pocket. The first two photos he takes are from a safe distance but as he goes to take the third he gets closer, too close. The shutter sound accidentally goes off although the ringer is on silent.
It doesn't wake you up no, but the captain's eyes shoot open, the first thing they land on is a phone in his face and he huffs an angry breath. He doesn't make a move nor let out a word in fear of waking you but the look he gives the guys standing behind the couch is deadly enough. They slowly step back and once they're at a safe distance they scurry down the hall.
At some point during the night you ended up completely on top of him. He lays there annoyed with the immature men who woke him up but absolutely thrilled that he can consciously enjoy this moment. Your head placed in the crook of his neck as you huff small breaths, your weight on top of him is almost everything he’s ever needed in this life. The way your hair wafts that familiar light floral scent is captivating. If he died right now he’d be at peace.
“John?” it startles him from his thoughts.
“Yes doll.” 
“You're so comfortable.” you whisper into his neck. He laughs while running a comforting hand over your back.
“Did you hear those idiots out here not too long ago?” he asks softly.
“Nope.” you say placing a hand on his chest to lift yourself up into a sitting position. He admires the way your eyes are slightly puffy from sleep, the way your shirt wrinkled in random places. He wants to pull you back down into him, wants to ask for five more minutes. Then he smiles cause he knows one day he’ll be able to.
“Stop staring at me.” You say softly looking away from him.
“Can I take you out tonight?” you turn back to him at that. Rubbing your eyes and smiling.
“Like on a date?” 
“Yes, will you grant me your presence for dinner?” he asks hopefully.
“Yeah.” you try to look away and hide the blush that creeps up on your face. He breathes again, he hadn’t known he wasn’t till you answered.
“Okay, em be ready by 6 then.” He inquires.
“Okay well I feel like I can’t just sit here now so I’m gonna go get in the shower.” You stand up nervously. He nods at you trying to hide behind a stoic expression just how giddy he feels inside. He watches you until you disappear around the corner before getting up. 
————
“So you asked her out?” John and the boys sit outside, there’s a cigar between John’s lips and the rest of them puff on a cigarette.
“I did.” 
“You had to threaten her to say yes, didn't you captain” Ghost jokes with a gruff laugh.
“Yer no one to talk.” Soap says in defense of his captain.
“You can’t even say you’re right.” Ghost quips back making Gaz burst out in a chuckle while John just stares at them with a straight face. 
“I’m nervous.” John admits.
“Wow, she makes you nervous. That’s hard to do.” Soap says. 
“Of what?” Gaz asks, ignoring soap.
“I feel like I shouldn’t, like she should be with someone younger, someone with a less demanding job.” They all hum not really knowing exactly how to comfort him. 
“She seems like the kind of woman that has already thought those things through.” Gaz says.
“I’m sure she has.” He replies. 
“Not to fret then, unless you’re the one with the problem.” 
“My only problem is that you're all still here.” He laughs before toking his cigar. 
“Yeah right you love our company.” Gaz replies.
—————
By the time you're out of the shower and have dressed casually for the day John’s friends are bidding you a goodbye, ghost kindly thanks you for sharing your home with them and gives you another soft handshake.
“Once again thankyou for letting me sleep in your bed, I appreciate it.” Gaz says with a small hug before walking out.
“Lass if he doesn’t treat you right you know who to call.” Soap says jokingly.
“If you don’t leave my home right now, soldier, you won’t be leaving at all.” John says seriously, waiting to shut the door. You just laugh leaning looking up at him and hint of humor in his eyes.
“All jokes, all jokes.” He yells out as he walks to the car they all crammed into. Once they pull away John shuts the door looking over to you.
“Their fun.” You say.
“More fun than I am?” 
“Yeah.” He’s surprised by your answer but at the same time not at all. Your smirk is growing into a smile as your damp hair falls over your shoulders.
“Really?” He drags out the word, giving you an opportunity to change your answer.
“Mhmm.” You say shrugging your shoulders.
“C’mere.” You laugh as he grabs at your waist throwing you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. 
“Okay no they're not, I promise they're not.” You laugh, his fingers digging into your sides as he walks towards your room.
“Say you swear.” You kick your feet trying your best to make him let you go, but this seems to be light work for him, as if he doesn’t even feel it. 
“I swear.” You laugh harder as he throws you softly onto your bed. He climbs right above your waist hovering so he doesn’t kill you with his weight. 
“I don’t believe it.” 
“I swear I really do.” He lets up, watching you try to catch your breath as he brushes the stray hairs from your face. 
“By the way no drinking tonight, none.” You say.
“Why?” 
“Cause the last time we went out together and drank only one of us made it out with their mind in the right place.” He laughs in memory leaning down close, close enough that if you moved up an inch your lips would touch. 
“Trust me my mind hasn’t been in the right place since I’ve met you.” He brushes his lips against yours and immerses himself in that addicting shock of adrenaline it gives him every time. 
“Oh, where’s it been then?” No answer, he just leans further into you until your lips connect softly. It’s a simple kiss and it's as electric as always but isn’t enough for you this time. You slightly open your needy lips and he happily takes the hint, swiping his tongue on your bottom lip to see if he’s right on what you’re offering, sure enough he is.
It’s slow and sensual in the beginning, and it’s actually driving him fucking insane. The taste of you is captivating in itself, the soft rhythm he sets and its consistency is melting the world around you. but the soft whine you made when he lifted your head a bit to accommodate the distance between you was the cherry on top. It’s a battle of dominance and clashing of teeth from then on. Your hands went from gently being placed on his face to being intertwined at the back of his neck and he can’t get enough. He wants more and more and more.  His hands are on your waist, your face, running through your hair. He breaks from your mouth to kiss down your jaw impatient yet savoring every moment. 
“John, we can't.” He knows you can’t, not that he would, he's too gentlemanly for that, you on the other hand are dancing on the line of control. Although he's desperate and impatient for you he’s also in dire need to keep you therefore no risks.
“I know, doll.” He says into the soft spot right below your ear. When he pulls away from you the look in your eyes can make any man fall to his knees. The swell of your puffy lips and the bit of saliva on your neck with your hair strewn in different places. It’s a sight to see. 
 You smile, completely and hopelessly falling for him, desperate so desperate that if he had kissed you one more time you wouldn’t have stopped it from going further. 
“Ready in about two hours then?” 
“Yeah.” 
————
You get ready while listening to music, anything to calm the damn nerves in your entire body. You've had dinner with John before, you even live together, but this is completely different.
You dress nicely this time, warm yes, but nicely. Knowing John will either carry you or walk with you gives you leeway to nice outfits. A mini skirt with tights underneath, doc martens, fuzzy crew neck that almost goes over the skirt. You do your hair, light makeup.
You’re putting on your final touches, jewelry wise, when John appears in your bedroom doorway.
“Mmm dolled up for who exactly?” He gives you a long, obvious one up. 
“Well I don’t know who I’ll meet, you know?” 
“I know many things, dolls but not that one.” 
“Well you don’t look so bad yourself.” You laugh, but really he always looks delicious.
“Can you actually help me with this?” You say holding up a gold necklace. He walks up to you, thick fingers grabbing at the dainty jewelry. You turn around moving your hair out of the way as he drapes it around your neck. He misses the clasp a couple times but when he finally gets it he lets out a satisfied grunt. You move to put your hair back but before you can you feel the wisp of his breath on your neck as his lips meet the soft skin of your shoulder humming softly. He turns you around planting one more on your lips. 
“You really do look delectable.”
“Yeah yeah.” Your hands run over his scruff. 
“Ready to go?” He asks, encasing the hand on his cheek. 
“Yeah.”
-----------
im so sorry for the wait for this one, although its my shortest chapter yet I did put my heart into it. Being a sophmore in college isnt for the weak and im the weak.
Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated<3
@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @Dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe @spyderdoll @angels-gonna-play @viisgrave @lieutenantlashfaz @sunndust @beckythecatqueen-blog @aoioozora @o-birdseed-o @mothmothmothmothmothmoth @ihateuguys @oversensitivitea @spicyspicyliving
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luveline · 4 months
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Hi love, i would love to see more of spencer x stripper!reader. Hope u are doing good <3
hi thank u, u too! ♡ fem
You press the heel of your palm to the shower tiles, head hanging and hair soaked to the scalp. Rivulets of hot water and soap suds slick their way down your front. 
“You okay?” 
Spencer's voice through the door, a better warmth than any luxurious shower. “Sorry, I'm getting out!” 
“No! No, stay in there if you want, I'm just wondering.” 
You force yourself out of the shower and into a towel. “I'm getting out.” 
“I have some clothes for you,” he says, “I can leave them by the door.” 
You wrap the towel tightly around your chest and step to the door. Spencer's startled face is on the other side, smiling nervously, a bundle of clothes held to his chest. 
“They're my friends. My coworker. Penelope? I asked her first and she said she doesn't mind at all. They might not fit, but…” 
“Thank you. You and Penelope.” You hold out one hand. Spencer passes you the clothes through the cracks of the door and you shut it, maybe unnecessarily. 
Spencer's seen you in various states of undress, but it isn't privacy that's worrying you tonight. You can't help looking over your shoulder, wondering if someone's watching you for a split second of madness. 
You pull on your borrowed pyjamas. A little Japanese cat winks up at you from the pants, the shirt a baseball tee with pink sleeves and a white body. Cute, you think. Penelope must be fun. 
Spencer's in the kitchen making two mugs of tea when you emerge. It's the herbal flavour you favour, steam billowing from the rims like clouds in the cold air. Your long walk in the rain is nearly forgotten by your skin if not your pittering pulse. 
“You okay?” 
“I'm fine.” 
“You sure?” He doesn't give you time to answer, carefully placing the two mugs on the coffee table, before tapping a gentle hand to your shoulder. “You wanna sit down?” 
“I'm really fine, handsome, it's … it's not the first time someone's followed me home.” You smile falsely. 
“That's not okay.” 
“I know.” You point at your cup of tea. “Can I?” 
“Of course you can,” he says, sitting beside you on the couch, leaving a more than chivalrous gap between you.
It's not a gap you want nor need, and after a few sips you've warmed enough to sidle closer to him, in touching distance, and then touching. Thigh to thigh, you watch the tops of his cheeks turn a pretty, blurry pink. “I was scared,” —your knuckles touch briefly to his knee— “but nothing happened. So don't worry about me, Dr. Reid, please.” You layer your voice with a sweetness that comes with seduction, a playfulness to mete his sudden regression into timidity. 
“I worry about you all the time.” He smiles, at least, so it isn't a burden. 
“I worry about you, too.” 
“I know you can take care of yourself, I just can't help thinking about the statistics. I know exactly how likely it is that something bad could happen to you, and it's not that you should worry, I don't want you to be scared, but– it's like, it plays on repeat in my head. It's– I'm not trying to–” 
“Hey, handsome,” you murmur, giving his leg a shy squeeze. “I know. It's dangerous and it's unlikely at the same time. And it feels silly talking about it.” 
“But silly not to,” he adds. 
“Yeah. I know, Spencer, I swear.” 
“I know you know,” he murmurs through a smile. 
“I know you know I know,” you joke back, smiling back sunnily. It doesn't take much of him to cheer you up. Ever since the day you met, he's been like a balm for your rampant aching, a brown-eyed, pretty-handed sweetheart. Whether it's sharing a seat on the train, or meeting up for dinner at the Indian restaurant behind his apartment, or just calling each other on the phone, he knows what to say to fix things. You forget your life, and you get to be with him instead. 
Spencer puts his mug of tea down to hug you. You'd known he was going to. It always happens like this, the two of you together, drinking tea and showing each other just the smallest fraction of each other's hearts. He presses his nose to your cheek as his hands run down the length of your back, and all you can think about is how he knows nearly everything about you and he holds you voluntarily.  
“Love you, Spence,” you mumble into his shoulder. 
“I love you too. I'm here for you, okay? I don't care how scared I am, I love being your friend.” 
You try not to sigh. Friend isn't necessarily what you want to be, but he'd let you in when you buzzed without asking why you were dropping by, and he'd held your gaze as you explained the man who'd been following you, your dead phone, your superglued shoes fallen apart in the typhoon. Spencer's everything a person could ever need. Dependable, vulnerable, sweet, kind, patient. He's pretty in every facet of the word. 
“Is it really that scary?” 
“Thinking about guys following you home?” he asks, rubbing your back gently. “It's terrifying. Weren't you terrified?” 
You blink back the sudden heat of emotion behind your eyes. “Um,” you say, higher than you mean, “uh, it wasn't–” You shrug, but your hands feel shaky and strange. 
Spencer's voice softens, “Hey, it's okay. I'm sorry.” 
You try not to think about what might've happened. When you realised there was someone following you, you didn't think, oh, he'll hurt me, you thought, I need to be faster. I need to get somewhere they can't. 
You needed safety and Spencer was the first, safest place. 
“I'm sorry for coming here.” 
Spencer pushed you away from him without malice, his hands on your arms. Alarm rings his eyes, eyebrows rising, “What? Why would you say that?” 
Because you didn't sign up for this. Because I'm me, and you're you, and you didn't have a choice, you were too good to let me be without you. 
Because, if you think about it, Spencer is more than safety to you. 
He doesn't baulk at your silence. “Hey,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing into the soft skin inside your elbow sweetly, “you like it here, don't you?” You nod. “Then– then who cares why you're here?” 
Spencer pulls you into his arms again. “You'll feel better in the morning… I'm gonna get you a new phone.” 
“What? Why?” 
“Cos that one's always dead. You need to be able to call me when you need me.” 
You smile into his shoulder. “You're not buying me a phone.” 
“Watch me.” 
You don't cry in his arms, but it's a weirdly close call. 
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lilac-witch · 28 days
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Hi cute! how are you? I hope you're well! You could write about Az returning with Feyre from training and they are talking and Az is so unfocused that he doesn't notice that there is another person in the room besides the ic, so y/n screams and runs out to hug Az and they're over. falling to the ground haha ​​they are best friends who have feelings for each other. Y/n had been away on a mission and didn't know Feyre but she knew her from EVERYTHING Az had been telling her jandjsmcjsldk thanks baby
First request! Super sweet ask and a great idea :)
Gadzooks - Azriel x Reader
masterlist | part 2
Summary: After weeks away on a mission, Y/n returns to her family in the Night Court, with the addition of a new member. And thanks to Azriel, she feels like they've known each other forever. Meaning: "an exclamation of surprise or annoyance" Word Count: 658 Warnings: None.
------------
"A letter has arrived for you, m'lady."
Y/n's head drifted from the paperwork before her, to the Peregryn male situated at the door. She motioned for him to come forward, receiving the envelope swiftly.
Once the male had left, Y/n tore into the white paper.
Dear Y/n
So much has happened since you left for Dawn. Feyre is officially living in Velaris, and I've taken over her training regiment. Let's just say her technique could use some work.
She's great though, perfectly suited for Rhys. If only the stubborn bastard would finally confess to her that they're mates.
I miss you. Cassian is as annoying as ever, and Rhys is so busy fretting over Feyre, so there isn't anyone to really talk to.
I hope everything is going well in Dawn, and I can't wait to see you again.
Your loyal friend, Azriel.
Y/n smiled as she finished reading through the letter. Over the many weeks that she had spent in Dawn Court, Azriel had kept her up to date on all things Feyre-related. From their first meeting, to the trauma she'd endured, Y/n knew it all.
Perhaps it was time she returned home. It was coming up on three months since she'd left, and Thesan seemed to no longer require her services. Yes, it was time to return to Velaris.
-------------
"You did well today," Azriel said as he and Feyre strode through the halls of the House of Wind.
"I feel like I'm getting stronger. The regimes no longer hurt so much," she laughed.
"Well then, maybe they could do with an upgrade," Azriel stated, lips twitching upwards into a smirk.
"Don't you dare, Shadowsinger."
Azriel was about to open his mouth in retort, when a solid object collided with his body, propelling him towards the floor.
Azriel would have been concerned regarding his shadows' lack of vigilence, or even his own instincts having not kicked it, had it not been for the warm vanilla scent that filled his nose.
"Y/n..." he mutter, arms wrapping around her warm body. "When did you get back?"
"A little while ago," she muttered into his neck, hot breath hitting his skin in the most delectable way.
"I missed you," he whispered.
"I missed you too, Az."
The heartfelt moment didn't last long, courtesy of his brother.
"If you two lovebirds are done, I believe introductions are in order."
Azriel glared daggers into Cassian's skull, doing his damnedest to keep the blush that crept up his neck, at bay.
He helped Y/n up, hands lingering on her waist for a second longer than what just 'friends' would do.
Rhysand cleared his throat, stepping towards the female at his side.
"Feyre, meet Y/n, the last member of our inner circle, and my most trusted emissary. Y/n meet Feyre..."
"I've heard all about you," Y/n stated, mouth spread wide in a smile. "All good things of course."
Feyre's face grew warm, and her eyes met Azriel's.
"Is that so?"
Y/n nodded, taking a cautious step forward, before wrapping an arm around Feyre, guiding her towards the kitchen.
"Indeed it is, and what better way to get to know me than over a cup of tea. Has Azriel mentioned I make a mean cup of tea?"
"He has not," Feyre stated, raising an eyebrow in his direction.
"Hm, how rude," Y/n huffed, smiling at Azriel as the pair disappeared from sight.
He felt his stomach flutter at the sight of that beautiful smile. It had been too long since he'd last seen it.
"You know, you complain about me not confessing to Feyre, but I've had to watch you tiptoe around Y/n for over a century," Rhys drawled, a teasing smirk on his obnoxiously handsome face.
"No one asked you," Azriel grumbled, heading in the direction the two females had gone, in hopes of escaping more of his brother's playful jabs.
------------
And I'm back!
it feels so good to be able to write again, and to be able to bring your requests to life. A reminder that my inbox is open to all your dreams and wishes ;)
Until next time lovelies :)
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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 2 months
Text
Supersons +1 prompt answer
If you asked Danny, 12 year old half-ghost hero of Amity Park, how half-life was going, he'd tell you things were mixed.
On the one hand, he had just spent the last three or four months in family/scientist/'this house is a death trap waiting to happen' therapy with Jazz, and by some miracle, it worked. He wasn't sure if this was some kind of dream as his parents poured over years upon years of research, crossing out lines, rewriting equations, and reevaulating everything they thought they knew about ghosts.
Was the shudders family therapy worth not going over how they'd like to dissect him? he's still not sure. The horror.
Not to mention the attention. Danny was sure he was going to throw up if his parents drag him away for more bonding time, only for a ghost to attack and for him to run off to transform. What made it worse was when the Fentons came barrelling out, guns blazing, alternating between getting mad that he'd interrupted their family time, and asking him questions about "Your suspicious spook culture, if you even have one you dangerous delusional delinquent!"
At least they were trying, but Danny was very much comfortable not spilling the beans on the whole half-ghost situation, thank you very much.
And that's why, when Dad proposed to take him to Gotham to show off their latest invention, he jumped at the chance. The home city of the Batman, one of the greatest heroes known to man (except for Martian Manhunter and Superman of course) and Dad promised to take him to Gotham Observatory too. Not to mention how much he wanted to get away from Jazz's smug looks of superiority. Gotham here he comes!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Damian Wayne scowled as he scanned the crowed of scientists with more smarts than sense. Really, a flying toilet seat. For what deviant?
"Maybe they're for people who can fly." Kent piped up beside him. Father had let the two of them run off together, and his company was mildly more appealing than being alone with his thoughts.
"Why would Superman ever need to relieve himself mid-air. I do not believe you would appreciate your father's rear end being on display for all the world to see."
"True." Jon hummed. His voice lowered to a whisper. "You think indecent exposure is what your dad meant by "scoping out any potential future villains?"
Damian gave Jon a flat look. The sooner this convention ended, the better.
The crowded shifted, and the mass of visitors pushed toward a certain corner, where a man large enough to rival Superman's build stood upon a podium, with a boy their age off to the side.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the latest in FentonWorks' innovations, the Fenton Ghost Zone Radar, soon to revolutionise the study of ghosts!"
"I thought ghosts were a magic thing." Jon said. "You know, stuff Constantine and JLD deal with."
"They are."
"Mixing magic and science is like, like, oil and water. No way this guy's serious, is he?"
"His name is Jack Fenton. That's Daniel Fenton, his son." Damian pointed to the boy in question, looking like he'd seen this scene a hundred times before, but with that knowing glint that promised something deeper. "They're normally spotted alongside Jack's wife, Madeline. Widely regarded as quacks by the larger scientific community for chasing paper-thin theories about ghosts, they've nonetheless gained funding from the government. This is the first time they've left their base of operations in Amity Park for years."
"Woah, you know your stuff, Dami!"
Damian glared at the young Superboy in disguise. "I read the briefing files. Didn't you?"
Kent looked uncomfortable and looked away. "Uhh, maybe?"
"Typical."
"Well, if he's so crazy, then why'd your dad even let him in." Upon another scathing glare, Kent relented. "Oh right, the whole supervillain thing."
"Enough chatter. We'll zero in on the younger Fenton. I intend to squeeze him like a grape, and make Father proud."
"Dami maybe you should be a little nicer-" Only for Damian to march off without him.
Honestly, inane niceties were above someone of his status. Those things were Superboy's job, and if Daniel Fenton wouldn't crack, then Damian was itching to try a new torture technique.
@impyssadobsessions
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justporo · 3 months
Text
Bedroom Hymns
A still empty new home somwhere in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate. Nothing but a big mattress on the floor of your bedroom where Astarion and you have spent some days already, mostly naked, just indulging in whatever you want - and each other of course, whenever the flames started blazing. This time a spark is ignited when Astarion sees how his old shirt looks on you, how well it suits you. (NSFW)
PART 2 | MASTERLIST | AO3
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Author's Note: This is... just dirty smut. I have been thinking about writing this for literal months. But I'm happy I did because when Tav describes how she's become more confident? That's me just describing how I feel about writing smut. And yes, there will be a second part - with even more. Happy 2k followers, my dear horny gremlins!
Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), premature orgasm, light dom/sub dynamic (if you squint but really they're both just taking the piss out of each other) Wordcount: 4,5k ~~~
A lot of things in your life had gone wrong - more than you could possibly ever count. Sometimes you had even wondered how you had even survived this far. In the last couple of months you had asked yourself that question quite a lot actually.
But then some things had gone very right. Often without you even knowing what was in store for you beforehand.
As you laid on your side on a single thick plush mattress in a massive room with deep red silk tapestries on the wall and polished wooden floors, high ceilings adorned with a shimmering and glittering chandelier in your newly acquired home in Baldur’s Gate, you realised that this was one of those things that had gone terribly right.
But all this wasn't even the best. The best thing that had - quite frankly - ever happened to you was lying right next to you: almost completely naked, only partly covered by some blankets and sheets, just as you were, and at the moment lecturing you on the importance of a coherent design concerning furniture, decor and colours. Long, elegant fingers waved around, gesticulating while full, soft lips kept moving, often smiling - occasionally allowing sharp fangs to be seen beneath - and red eyes began to glow whenever their gaze fell on you.
A small lantern was bathing the large and tall room in some cosy orange light - barely reaching the far corners of the room. It was almost reminiscent of all the nights you had spent in camp with nothing but the moon, stars and a crackling campfire for light. The mattress though was easily an impressive upgrade from your tattered bedrolls despite it being the only piece of furnishing the two of you currently owned.
You had stopped paying attention a fair while ago while Astarion kept waving his arms around, looking from you - softly nodding in agreement without hearing the words - to the ceiling and around the empty room. His curls were delightfully messed up and unorderly, making him look even more handsome for how at ease he was. And the easy smile that didn't seem to leave his lips these days, took quite a lot of those torturous years right off his face.
Your heart fluttered every time he looked over at you, with his bright red eyes sparkling at you and his smile involuntarily growing even broader.
And you saw the rest too: how he elegantly gesticulated with those skilled hands, how the muscles in his arms and chest flexed as he couldn't be bothered to keep still for just a second, the room never silent as long as he was there. You had fallen into easy, natural companionship with each other - as if you’d known each other for centuries already.
What choices you had made to end up right here, right now, you didn’t know. But you surely wouldn’t have changed a thing if this was to be the glorious result.
“Wouldn't you agree, my heart?” Astarion asked you, halting his ongoing infodump. He was looking at you. And by the way one of his eyebrows was raised critically he must have noticed your lapse in attention.
But in your defence, the way his lower abdomen disappeared in the sheets he had carelessly wrapped around his hips - at a very low point - would have distracted just about anyone. The way the lines of his muscles defined his lower body. Especially those two converging lines, starting at his slender hips, then going lower, leading to his…
Astarion cleared his throat. You'd been distracted yet again. 
“Darling, you have all the time in the world for staring, you don't need to get it done all at once.”
“I like being a step or two ahead though, love.”
The vampire scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance. You saw how it made his muscles contract just a tad and you bit your lip unconsciously.
“I know, darling, you're so diligent. But my eyes are up here, my sweet,” he answered. You heard the vicious teasing in his tone.
You ripped your gaze from his delectable torso and let it wander to his equally delectable face. He was grinning wolfishly at you, one eyebrow twitching up playfully. And now you couldn't help but blush a little. He often had that effect on you.
Astarion simply liked being looked at, and you - well - liked looking at him. But in his defence, he was also very good at reversing the roles, making you flustered whenever he couldn’t tear his eyes from you in return as if undressing you and having you right then and there in his mind even when you were in public. With the way he stared at you now, eyes slowly becoming half-lidded, you also had a fair idea where his mind was going right now.
Your vampire slowly turned to lay on his side, propping up his head on his arm, mirroring your pose exactly. A few of his curls were falling into his face when he slowly leaned forward, his smile already telling you what he was about. Some rustling you heard made you aware that the sheets around his hips were moving when he did. Your eyes flicked downward.
A small involuntary gasp left your lips when you noticed that the fabric had slipped even lower, the man now even more precariously covered than before. Your thoughts immediately took a tumble and stopped being coherent.
Astarion clicked his tongue, his free hand grabbed your chin firmly and made you look at him once more: “Love, we really need to talk about the fact how you lose the ability to focus so quickly.” The wolfish grin was back and he even leaned in a little bit closer still, causing the sheets to slide down just a bit more. A desperate noise caught deep in your throat.
You coughed. 
“In my defence, Astarion, you’re almost completely naked”, you whispered as his smirking lips hovered over yours.
“So are you, darling, but you don’t see me losing focus, do you?” Astarion replied, his voice dropping low until it was merely more than a rumble. His crimson eyes took their time as they wandered over every single one of your elegant curves. His tongue darted out to wet his lips unconsciously while with his eyes he devoured your naked body outlining against the dark of the room with the help of warm lantern light sharply illuminating the details of your form.
You swallowed and felt some pressure forming between your legs. The kind you had felt relentlessly almost all the time since you had fallen onto this single piece of furnishing you had bought so far for your new home.
By now it must have been a couple of days of the two of you just hanging out barely clothed in your new almost empty bedroom - just the huge mattress on the floor. And once you had fallen onto it, you hadn’t seen any sense in getting up again. Everything you needed was right there with you.
You had talked even more in the last couple of days than you had ever before. You had taken each other whenever lust had overcome you. And you had just allowed the exhaustion of months and months of fights, adventures and not knowing if you would live to see another sunrise to slowly leave both your bodies. Just sinking into the soft bedding, knowing you could let yourself fall fully with each other around, relaxing and recovering.
Well, you almost didn’t leave the makeshift bed. Only when some carnal urges, that Astarion very unfortunately couldn’t fulfil all by himself, were reminding you that you were still just a mortal did you get up and snuck out of the room. Always coming back to Astarion dramatically claiming he'd barely survived without your attention when you fell back into his arms on return.
Unfortunately you felt some of those urges creeping up on you this very moment, as Astarion was leaning in, about to initiate what surely would become another mind bending tumble in the sheets. But this would have to wait - at least for a few moments now.
And also he could get his ego knocked down a bit for being all too cocky just a few moments ago.
When the vampire was about to close his eyes to kiss you, you rolled back. And with that movement grabbed the blanket that was covering you and threw it at Astarion’s expectant face. As you heard him hiss you slid off the mattress with a cackle and grabbed the first piece of clothing you saw before you quickly, with bare feet, ran to slip out of the bedroom. The vampire ripped the blanket off his face, got to his knees and tried to grab you before you could leave his den but you were just as quick as him.
You heard Astarion curse under his breath but you were already closing the door behind you. The last thing the vampire saw of you, was how you had pulled on his old shirt and how it didn’t fully cover your butt as you slipped out the door, leaving barely anything to his vivid imagination.
Astarion cursed you under his breath and remained kneeling there, a martyr forced to give up his everything (temporarily). At least the view could have been worse. Thinking about how you had looked in his shirt immediately sent a jolt between his legs, making his length throb with need for you as he sat there and mourned the temporary loss of his lover. Only his imaginative mind kept him company until you came back.
When you returned shortly after you had brought a bottle of wine and two chalices (only bought yesterday on a whim) to make up for your rash departure. You slowly opened the door with your bare foot since both your hands were full and found Astarion exactly as you left him.
He was kneeling on the mattress still, the sheets draped over his thighs almost artfully, only barely covering him now. His hands were placed palm up on his wide spread legs, almost as if he was in prayer. And fitting with this was his bowed head, eyes closed, his ruffled curls covering part of his beautiful face.
Ethereal was the only word you could think of at that moment. Astarion looked like the statue of a forgotten god with how he knelt there: every single detail crafted to perfection. The light of the lantern illuminated every line of his naked body, giving the illusion of being carved out of immaculate marble capturing every single one of his sharp lines that worked so well in contrast to your softer ones.
And for some reason it seemed this unreal looking being had chosen to come down from his place among all other divine powers to bow down at your feet. And more even: he had devoted himself to you, body and soul, for the rest of his immortal days to lavishly praise you with all he had to offer.
You gasped as you took him in. Almost not being able to believe how you had gotten so lucky.
The vampire’s head snapped up when he heard the soft, low sound. The illusion of a statue, forever held captive in stone in perfect but lifeless detail, was broken. But the actual thing was so much better anyways. Astarion’s crimson eyes glinted at you in the low light, his body flexed, stone becoming liquid, while you slowly closed the door behind you again.
The vampire eyed you, drinking in the view of you wearing his shirt now being allowed more than just a glimpse: the sleeves sliding down your arms and bunching up around the elbows, the way the fabric spanned over your hips and thighs.
But mostly the vampire was mesmerised by how your breasts outlined against this old shirt of his: part of them obscured by the ruffles, but especially their peaks - hardened by the cold air - were clearly visible to him and made Astarion lose his focus for once. Seeing you this way immediately made lust rise up within him way more than any fantasy could, causing his length between his legs to twitch and slowly harden.
Feeling the tension in the room shift remarkably, you slowly stepped closer to your makeshift bed again. You saw desire light up the vampire’s eyes as he kept gazing upon you. His lips had parted and his expression spoke of nothing but hunger for you as he couldn’t get enough of the view of you wearing his clothes.
Maybe he wasn’t so much a heavenly being that had descended to you but something out of the most fiercely burning part of the hells, ready to drag you down with him and never let you leave again. You swallowed and felt how the vampire’s heated gaze alone made you feel a little hazy.
Had you known it was this easy to turn the table on Astarion in his own little game, you would have done this much earlier. And oh, what irony that while you could barely form a coherent thought once the vampire was naked before you, for him it was you putting on his old, almost threadbare camp shirt that seemingly made the pale elf forget everything else but how good it looked on you. And what it meant to him: that you were his.
The intensity on his face as he kept staring at you without moving was almost predator like and made you rub your thighs together in a desperate attempt to control the beginning pulses between your legs. But the damage was already done. And as if emboldened by the vampire’s attention you felt your hardening nipples rub against the fabric of Astarion’s shirt, pronouncing them even more and making you overly aware of them.
“Come here, darling,” the pale elf asked of you, lazily stretching out an arm towards you. All you could do in response was helplessly wave the bottle of wine and the chalices around, because some pragmatic part in your brain was still working and telling you that your hands were still full.
Astarion frowned slightly at you, annoyed by the delay in you obeying his demand.
“Put it down and then come here,” he ordered in a brisker tone now, you saw his gaze darkening as he almost growled at you.
And of course you followed his demand. There was nothing more you wanted actually as you looked down upon your nearly naked lover before you - demanding you join him again in your bed.
Hastily, you placed down the bottle and the cups and then moved over to Astarion. He was stretching out his arms to you, motioning to you to come sit on his lap.
You didn’t hesitate, but you didn’t rush either now. You placed one on one of his thighs, causing the fabric of his shirt to ride up your thigh so much that you were sure that he must be able to see your swelling core from his position. Immediately one of his hands slid up your pointed foot and over your shin, around to your calf, squeezing the muscle lightly, before it went on to the sensitive underside of your bare thigh.
And of course his eyes were immediately drawn to you bared before him, almost hypnotised and making a grunt catch in his throat at the sight of what you had to offer him. His crimson gaze found yours, his brows drawn together. You stayed like this in a moment of perfect stillness as you kept looking at each other, knowing that you’d be doomed to be each other’s continuous downfall. Then Astarion bit his lips, one canine catching on his bottom lip, his gaze falling back to what lay beneath your legs.
This alone was getting you so worked up that you let your head roll back and allowed a small but desperate moan to leave your lips. Astarion laughed softly at that, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. You moaned again and enjoyed the content humming you earned in response to your openly shown pleasure.
Months ago you would have been way too hesitant to act like this - not directly ashamed but surely too shy to really express yourself, to fully indulge. But Astarion had surely made your confidence rise to unknown heights with the way he always praised you, how he hungered for you and always made it known how much he desired you. And with teaching and showing you what pleasures he could let you have if only you trusted him. And you had done that from the beginning, your belief in him stronger than better judgement.
So there you were, spreading yourself to your lover, while you could observe his cock beginning to twitch below the thin sheets. This with how the corners of his mouth curled up into an almost feral grin was more than enough proof that you’d been doing it right, that he’d taught you well.
It made you feel powerful, knowing how you could make him lust for you. And it heightened your own pleasure knowing how easily you could turn him on.
“Darling,” Astarion mumbled, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip as you saw him basically salivating at the sight of you becoming a drenched mess for him, “would you mind coming just a little bit closer?” His gaze flicked from your core to you and then back down. He was eager and insatiable.
“Say please?”
His gaze snapped to yours, eyes narrowed while you grinned, both of you remembering a specific moment months ago when you had teased him just like that. And just like back then he would make you regret it later.
He rolled his head around, loosened his shoulders with an annoyed, dramatic sight.
“Please”, he basically purred when his head came back around.
Oh sure, if he was nice like that, you would come closer. You gave him a pleased smile and withdrew your leg from his, making Astarion’s unwilling hand drop to his thigh while he criticised the loss with a disgruntled groan. But you moved quickly to make up for it.
You stepped on the mattress, already incredibly close to him and enjoyed how attentively he stared up at you, patiently awaiting you now. It was almost fooling you how obediently he had been so far, how he waited for you. But seeing the mischievous sparkle in his ruby eyes and his signature smirk play on his lips told you that he was only playing coy until he had you where he wanted you.
Still you drew out the moment, enjoying your moment of having the upper hand. You let one hand enter his already dishevelled hair and began caressing his scalp with slow circles of your fingertips.
“You’re such a good, patient boy today, Astarion,” you teased him sweetly as you watched his eyes roll back from your soft, sensual caress. One eyebrow twitched at your praise. You knew he liked being praised. But then his gaze snapped back and his hands shot around your legs and pulled you in close against him by grabbing your butt.
You yelped and almost lost balance. Your hands searched for hold on his naked shoulders and the vampire had you firmly in his grasp. His splayed fingers squeezing your buttcheeks, half-covered by the shirt. He pressed his face between your legs. His long, straight nose almost already reached the swelling, sensitive bud there.
A helpless whimper escaped you and Astarion lifted his face again.
“Not so feisty now, are we? Don’t make me become impatient with you, sweetheart,” he told you in a mocking tone, pursing his lips, enjoying the view of you above him and emphasising his point with a firm slap on your butt. You merely gasped in response. Your mind was still trying to catch up.
“Now, move!”, he commanded with another low growl and wasted no time by moving one of your thighs to lift up your leg and placing it on his shoulder. You were balancing on one leg now. But your vampire was holding you securely, both hands on your ass again and pulling you as close as possible.
The fabric had already bunched up over your spread thigh now but you saw the unspoken command in Astarion’s narrowed eyes as he positioned you on himself and you lifted the shirt higher with one hand while letting the other enter his hair again.
And then Astarion wasted no more precious time and pressed his face between your legs again - now with no more fabric getting in his way. The tip of his tongue immediately and effortlessly found your pulsating clit and began working on it while his hands squeezed your butt deliciously.
Without hesitation he pressed his open mouth to your heated core, sucking on it and his tongue circling over and around the sensitive peak there, sending a million little lightning jolts through your body that quickly became stronger, conjuring a thunderstorm.
You moaned loudly now, not being able to control any of it anymore. Your hand formed a fist in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, which he answered with a pleased growl and pressing his tongue even harder against your clit.
He drove you up that mountain so quickly and violently you began seeing stars already while he kept pleasuring you with his eager mouth. The way he sucked on you, let his tongue slide between your folds and inside of you, having you almost fully climb onto his face, and the way you felt even his fangs graze you ever so lightly at your most sensitive part made you quickly lose all control.
Somewhere in the back of your mind clouded with boundless lust you were thankful that he held you so firmly it hurt, because your legs were both shaking uncontrollably the longer and fiercer he kept going. With glazed over eyes you allowed yourself to look down and enjoy the view of your lover devouring you as if he had been only put on this plane of existence to please you in this way. It amplified the pressure you felt building up in your lower body tenfold.
You neared the edge at breakneck speed. And your body was desperate for release, knowing the orgasm would be vicious. But there was something else you wanted. Instinctively you knew that he himself must be aching. You didn’t need to see his massive erection straining the sheets around his hips and the telltale wet spot at its peak to know that it was there - and to know that you wanted to feel him inside of you.
“Astarion,” you groaned breathlessly and used the rest of your control to pull on his hair. But you achieved nothing, merely making him almost purr from the exquisite pain you inflicted by pulling on his hair. He slapped your ass again. So hard you knew it would leave his handprint on your delicate skin this time. That and the sting from it made you bite your lip to barely stifle another desperate moan.
And then the last of your ability to form a simple coherent thought crumbled, the sheer, primal lust inside you taking over when Astarion changed the pace to some slow, hard movements with the tip of his tongue directly over your swollen clit. You gave in to it.
It was inevitable anyway. Only a few more flicks of the vampire’s skilled tongue and you were falling, your cunt throbbing violently despite nothing to clench around. 
Your hand was tugging hard on Astarion’s hair again, making him growl. Your face was contorted in overpowering pleasure as the stars you had seen before blew up to a whole firmament and made you lose your vision for a moment from how bright everything had become. Breathless, almost soundless noises left your wide open mouth as you scattered into a million pieces. And only Astarion’s firm arms around you made sure they would all stick together again once you would come down from your own galaxy again.
The vampire kept going for a few more swipes, pushing you just a tad further before it became fully unbearable and then withdrew to enjoy the fruits of his labour, your wetness coating his lips and chin. He absent-mindedly lapped it up as well as possible while he kept watching you writhe from the ecstasy he had provided you with.
When you had come back down enough from the high again to feel your own body, you slowly let your head fall forward again. Your legs felt weak and wobbly just as the rest of your body. You looked at your eager lover, who was licking up some of you from his lips still. Astarion looked mightily pleased with himself.
“That’s what you get for making me impatient, love,” he simply said and grinned haughtily, cocking his head as if he hadn’t just given you one of the most violent orgasms you had ever experienced - and hadn’t even allowed you to lay down for it.
He softly eased your leg off his shoulder but held you securely still to make sure you didn’t topple over. You softly tugged on his curls now and kept looking at him while still trying to catch your breath. The vampire placed soft kisses down the front of your shivering thighs after you had let the shirt drop again, his hands were carefully massaging your behind and the back of your thighs.
“Shame though,” you let out between gasps of air, “I would have loved to feel you inside of me.” You said it while you eyed his erect dick between his spread legs. The sight alone enough to get some pressure back up in your lower abdomen - despite your core still lazily throbbing from your last orgasm.
That made Astarion’s head snap back up again, his eyes sparkling at you as if asking how you still dared to talk back to him after what he had just made you experience. Then he closed his eyes and softly shook his head while his smirk turned wicked.
“Oh sweet darling,” he began and opened his eyes slowly to look at you from under his brows. His eyes were dark and the tip of his tongue darted out to lick over his lips focus wholly on you. The smirk grew even broader until you saw his fangs glint in the low lantern light.
His gaze was piercing, and his hands were once more squeezing your butt until it hurt pleasantly, plugging a whimper from you. You asked yourself if it had been clever to provoke a vampire who must be burning up with pleasure by now and aching for his own release judging by how you saw his erection twitch forcefully between his legs even with the fabric of the sheet covering it.
“What made you think I was even close to being done with you, my heart?”
PART 2
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cherrychilli · 2 months
Text
18+
Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, established relationship, lingerie, allusions to oral sex(F), PIV sex
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a/n: I'm no seamstress by any means but I can do a decent enough job with a needle and thread and I love making my own lingerie from time to time so it got me thinking about dear sweet horny Eddie and what it might be like when you let him in on your little hobby.
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You'd first told him about it a few months into your relationship, on a day when a press of his lips to the corner of your mouth had turned into open mouthed kisses, his tongue wrapped around yours. Eddie had pulled you closer to feel more of you then, settling you in his lap, pushing your skirt up to find the black, hand sewn lacy garters circling the thickness of your thighs, made dainty and pretty with ruching and bows.
He doesn't even know what they're called – all he knows is that he likes them, a lot and he tells you so between kisses, tracing the soft fabric with his fingers, pinching the delicate lace with a low whistle. He slips in a corny but sweet line about how it makes your thighs look like they've been giftwrapped just for him and that gets a giggle out of you, telling him you made them yourself.
"You serious?", he looks up at you, amazement shining bright in his deep mahogany eyes even when you try to downplay it, telling him it's not that hard. But your modesty does nothing to stop him from thinking you're the most talented person he's ever met and he reminds you of that mixed in with more praise when you change positions and he's down on his knees, slipping his fingers under each garter while he fits his head between your legs.
"Turning up in a pretty little outfit like this? that's begging to have my tongue on you, baby. You shoulda known that", he tuts against your clothed mound, licking a broad stripe up your panties, tasting the wetness that had gathered there on the black cotton.
He only pulled out the stitching on one garter that day – unintentional of course but unavoidable too given how tightly he had to hold you down in place as you writhed. It didn't trouble you though because it was nothing you couldn't mend with your needle and some thread back at home.
From then on, whenever you feel inspired to tackle a new design he's all sorts of encouraging, driving you and accompanying you to get all the things you need – all of the sewing supplies; fabric, thread, lace, ribbon, elastic and more. He helps you decide on which colors to get and he makes the gesture of paying for it all too, wanting to spoil you. Not to mention it's kind of like he's buying himself a present too, knowing you'll model the undergarments for him when you're done.
The most you let him help with after that is taking your measurements, letting him wrap the measuring tape around your hips and bust while you guide him on how to do it correctly but what that leads to is a lot of wandering touches and a few sneaky pinches on your ass, having to playfully swat his hands away if you hope to get anything done.
Eddie backs down with a little whine but all the faux pouting's just for show. He finds space on your bed while you look up DIY tutorials online at your desk before you get down to sewing, all of your supplies laid out neatly by your side, ready to be used.
While you're busy he spends his time strumming away on his guitar, pencil tucked behind his ear as he brainstorms lyrics for a new song. Both of you liked working on your own projects this way, in the same room because you appreciate having each other's company and presence to surround yourself with while you create.
Though Eddie had promised not to look too much he struggles to uphold that promise as he sneaks peaks at you cutting out patterns for a matching lace bra and panty set. He adores the cute way your brows scrunch together in concentration when you thread your needle and how you sometimes mirror him with your tongue pinched between your lips while you meticulously stitch all the individual cut outs together.
Somewhere between the time it takes you to get the panties finished and the bra started he approaches you, one hand clamped over his eyes so he can't see your progress – he knows how much you want to surprise him with the final result. Held out in the other is a mug of that tea you like, having made a quick trip to your kitchen and back, a bag of potato chips cradled in the crook of his elbow for you too.
You thank him and gladly take the offerings, cheeks growing warm when he plants a quick kiss on the top of your head. "Don't overwork yourself", he coos into your hair, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before he heads back to your bed and picks up his guitar again.
The tune Eddie's playing carries you through the rest of your stitching and close to an hour later you swivel your desk chair around in his direction. "I'm done", you announce with a sunny smile and he grins back at you, fingers abandoning his guitar. "You gonna get changed right now?" he asks hopefully, eyes twinkling.
"Yup", you answer him, popping the 'P' with a little wink. You gather the set in your arms, stepping into the bathroom. "Wait here, I wanna do a reveal", you tell him before closing the door, all giddy with girlish excitement, proud of how the it all came out.
The wait isn't long but every second that passes has Eddie feeling like his head's full of fireworks, finding it impossible to remain still, fingers drumming on his knees, legs hung over the side of your bed, socked feet tapping away on your carpeted floor.
You don't announce yourself once you've changed, unlocking the bathroom door and letting it swing open as you lean against the doorframe, letting your boyfriend take in your newest creation.
You know you've succeeded when his lips part, jaw going slack and his eyes going wide to rake over every inch of you, stunned.
He makes grabby hands at you and its somehow made cuter given his age so you step forward to let him get a closer look, occupying the space between his spread legs, letting him place his warm hands on the bare skin of your waist.
It's always a rare moment when Eddie goes silent, words escaping him as he quietly admires the way the material wraps around your proportions perfectly and the the cheeky cut of your panties as you do a little spin for him, the front a soft lilac satin, the back a matching shade of lace to reveal your ass through the floral embroidery.
The bra is simple – nothing too elaborate like some of the designs you'd scrolled through but it compliments the underwear well. The straps are thin and rest comfortably on your shoulders, the rest sewn in a longline style. It's sheer with the same floral lace as your panties so your nipples show through, your breasts supported well even without padding or underwire for extra softness, all with a tiny, pretty ribbon bow stitched right in the middle to match the one on the front of your panties too.
"You're so fucking beautiful", me utters, pulling you closer to kiss you right above your belly button, making your chest flutter with a thousand beating wings, a hurricane of butterflies taking flight just beneath your skin.
You let him lay you down on the bed and he's far more gentle than he needs to be when he slips your panties to the side, not wanting to stretch or snag the lace and ruin all your hard work. Your belly feels warm like sunlight spilling through your window in the morning because he's so careful with the pretty underwear while he runs a finger through your wet folds, making you feel like something as delicate as porcelain, something to touched with care and worshiped. It makes you hunger for more, pulling him closer by his shoulders.
"Wanna feel you inside", you place your lips on his, hands helping him to unbuckle his belt as he leans over you. You pull not so gently at his clothing, a big contrast to how he's handling you, tossing each article to the side impatiently while you remain in your cute little ensemble. You wouldn't be ridding yourself of your underwear tonight and he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Can't believe I've got the prettiest doll in town all to myself", Eddie huffs a breath against the column of your neck at the same moment you suck one in, pressing his cock inside you, so thick and hard it makes the stretch that much better.
"And she's all dressed up just for me"
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loveandleases · 9 months
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Love and Leases is an 18+ interactive novel. Set in Chicago. With focus on relationships, drama, healing and found family. Inspired by 2 Broke Girls, Don't trust the b in apt 23. Ready to sign your lease?
Characters Playlists Pinterest
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You had it all going for you, didn't you?
A loving fiancé, Chris. A wonderful older sister, Jade who understood you when others couldn't, a best friend who has been your ride or die since you were in diapers together. A beautiful apartment, not to mention the cutest dog you have ever dreamed of.
Of course, nothing stays good forever. In fact, that is when everything decided to come crashing down.
That fiancé, wonderful sister, perfect apartment. Gone within an hour. That adorable dog, stolen by your now former fiancé. That left you with one option.
You were intent on heading back home to pick up the pieces of your now shattered life. Your best friend had a different plan, that required your position at a leasing office. What happened next is still a blur in your mind. Yet somehow you're stuck signing a lease and staying for another year.
This is your chance to start over, start a new career or continue to work at the local leasing office, stake your claim in the city that will be your home for the foreseeable future. Fall for someone, or make new friends? Get revenge/make amends with your past, get back your dog? Will you be going back home once the year is up? Or will you be signing a new lease with someone else?
Love and Leases is a slice-of-life interactive story. Where drama, romance, betrayal intertwines to create your story. Rate 18+ for language, optional sexual content, drug/alcohol use and more.
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Features
❥ Customize your MC, gender, pronouns, appearance, personality, and history with some of the characters.
❥ Choose a new career, will you strike out on your own or work with some of your acquaintances?
❥ Romance one or more character, will you find comfort in familiar gaze of a friend, pick up the pieces of a relationship of your past? Or do you just think the landlord is hot?
❥ Fix not only your relationships but those of the people around you.
❥ Get back your dog!?
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Romances
❥ The Best Friend: Cameron “Cam” Clarke [M] – Cam has always been by your side; you have known each other since you were in diapers. Always clinging to one another’s familiarity. Some would say he dives headfirst without thinking, according to Cam it's always thought out. His "impulsiveness" is part of his charm. He could care less about others, but one look in your direction is all it takes to soften him up. Cam is confident, sarcastic, and some would say rude. Yet never to you. You can’t help noticing how he looks at you, has it always been this adoringly? Cam works as a photographer.
Route – Friends to lovers. Childhood crush.
❥The Rival: Gage/Garnet Kim [M or F] – G was one of your closest friends/rival in college, now just a sore reminder of the bad choices you’ve made. G was your educational rival in every sense of the word. You fought about everything. G has always had a sharp tongue, and stood out as a lone wolf. They're stoic, detached, and a bit closed-off. Regardless, Cam was able to soften their tough exterior. Getting close to one another was inevitable. Your chemistry undeniable. That was until a fight one night at the dorms. Now G barely looks your way. No witty comment, no stolen glances when they thought you weren't looking. Can you fix the fracture in your relationship? G works as a veterinarian.
Route- Enemies|Rival to lovers. One that got away. Second chance. You can decide whether G was just a friend or an ex.
❥ The follower: Kara Clarke [F] - Kara is the younger sister of Cam and Chris. She knows what she wants and how to get it. She got the best attributes of her siblings, loyalty and undeniable charm. She is spunky yet sweet, outspoken, confident, and mainly competitive. That could be the reason she's now vying for your position at the leasing office.
Route- Dark Secret
❥ The Writer: Markus | Marie Wilkens [M or F] – M is the ideal type to bring home to your parents, or to your friends, or anywhere. M is sweet, considerate, and extremely overworking. Always lacking sleep, that doesn’t dampen their smile. Yet from time to time you notice a sadness that doesn’t belong to their kind face. Not to mention that glimmer of mischief in their eyes. golden retriever cinnamon roll.
Route- Oblivious to love, Tragic Past.
❥ The Delivery person [redacted] :  Isaac Allen [M or NB] - I is the resident flirt/jokester. Are you having a bad day? Well, you better believe they have a well timed comment/joke ready to make you blush or laugh. They regularly forget things. Isaac is constantly working either their delivery job or their other job they keep secret. Though you've never met prior, you can swear you've seen them before. Will you be the one who finally gets Isaac to give love a chance?
Route- Fear of Commitment, Double Life
❥ The Landlord: Ardent Pine [M] - You know the last person on Earth you would ever want to be stuck with, yeah that’s Ardent. He is rude, inconsiderate, self-entitled. Everyone has a bad word to say about Ardent. Even his cat (who is the cause of the scars on his arms). Since seeing you something about you has just rubbed him the wrong way, always quick to throw a snide comment your way. Ardent is the type who you could argue with about anything, wanting to pull his hair out afterwards. Surely, he can’t be that bad right? There must be a good bone in him somewhere, are you willing to find it, and find what has hardened his heart? resident dilf
Route- Villainous Crush
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Other Characters
The Ex-Fiancé: Chris Clarke [gender selectable] - Chris is their parents golden child. Older sibling to Cam and Kara. They have a way with words always telling people what they want to hear with a charm that is unmatched. Many believe Chris is unable to do any wrong, well that was until...
MC's Sister-:Jade- Mc's older sister, Jade is very much what one would envision when thinking of a girl who can solely rely on looks. She is dazzling even you can't deny that. She comes across as quiet and reserved, but if Jade is close to you, she can make you feel like the single most important person in a room.
Reblogs would be appreciated <3
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allbark-no-bite · 5 months
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marriage and honor.
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jake seresin x reader (wc: 6.5k)
summary: the Navy has already taken two people from your life, and you don’t intend to let there be a third. that is until Jake Seresin walks into your life
warnings: severe plot holes, mentions of character death, swearing
authors note: based off of the movie Purple Hearts. it’s a great movie and i highly suggest watching it! please bear with me in the beginning of this, the plot holes fix themselves, i promise lol. i literally threw this together because i wrote one scene for shits and giggles and had to commit to it
(read parts two and three here: december and devotion, cats and christmas)
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No one ever expects to have to bury their brother at fifteen. Kinda just like no one expects to have to bury their other brother at eighteen. But you do it the first time and then you do it again three years later. It's a bit like deja vu the second time, like you're reliving the actual nightmare all over again. Except this time there's no one to hold your hand and tell you it's all going to be alright because he's dead and buried too.
They both die honorable deaths in service to their country. At least that's what they say at the memorials. You're not so sure there's anything comforting about dying honorably. They're both still dead, honored or not.
Raised by your grandparents, you'd grown up the youngest of three on a military base smack dab in the middle of San Diego, better yet known as Fightertown USA. True military brats, your old brothers enlisted straight out of high school, one after the other. As their young and impressionable kid sister, you worshiped the ground they walked on and had your heart set on following in their footsteps. That was of course, until they both went and died.
'Sometime these things just happen', is what you were told. And you know, freak accidents do happen. Engines fail, training exercises go awry, safety precautions are ignored. But that doesn't make up for the fact that lightning has, against all odds, stuck the same place twice.
So after the Navy takes away not one but two people from your life, you swear off all things to do with military life. The moment you graduate high school you pay out of pocket just to move off of the base into a shitty the-bedroom-and-bathroom-are-in-the-same-place apartment. You go to college and get the kind of degree that looks good on paper but you can't really get a job with. But it's fine because it helped you to put the past behind you and move on. So much that when your grandmother passes away unexpectedly, leaving your grandfather widowed, you're able to stomach moving back closer to home to take care of him.
At least, you'd thought that you had moved on.
Now, standing in the middle of the courthouse wearing what had been your college graduation dress (the only white dress you could find on such short notice) and watching the man before you slip a ring on your finger, you're not so sure. As a matter of a fact, you actually feel sick, queasy like you might have to bend over the nearest trashcan to get the blood rushing to your head again. That might would be a good idea because what the hell were you thinking.
Jake must take notice of the expression on your face because he offers you a weak smile, his pink lips pressed together. The same thought must be running through his mind too because he also looks like he might be sick at any moment.
What the hell were either of you thinking?
"I now pronounce you husband and wife." Thankfully the minister is too bored looking with his own job to notice that both of you are looking worse for wear. He also completely forgets to say 'you may now kiss the bride', which is another thing to be thankful for. That might have been the straw that broke the camel's back and sent both you and Jake running for the hills. Instead he mumbles a unenthusiastic congratulations and departs from the room, leaving you and Jake standing numbly side by side.
In the following seconds after the minister leaves the room, silence settles between the two of you, partially due to shock and partially because you don't even know what to say. It's a sight, Jake in his pristine navy dress whites and you in your too short college graduation dress.
Finally, Jake clears his throat, swallowing. "Well, there's no turning back now."
*queue rewind noise* 
You may be wondering how we got here.
*six days ago*
"C'mon baby, you didn't think that was funny? Girls usually love that line."
He'd been after you all night, smiling, cracking jokes, buying you beers. You had to admit, he was nothing if not persistant.
"Unfortunately for you, I don't date funny guys." Despite your tone, you're actually genuinely amused by the situation. He's trying so hard, and it's getting him absolutely nowhere.
He's handsome, without a doubt the most attractive man at the bar, but he could be the most attractive man in the world and you still wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. Not with that smile and defiantly not with that uniform on.
"And why is that?" he laughs, undeterred by your blatant disinterest. His friends are watching, have been watching the two of you do this dance all night, and he's not about to back down now.
You watch the smile lines that appear on his tanned face, the way his eyes crinkle in amusement as he awaits on your answer. He's probably a few years your senior, early thirties if that's anything to go by.
"Funny guys are dangerous. They make you laugh and laugh and then boom you're naked."
His smile twitches and yeah, you can be funny too, wise guy.
"Is that where you think this is going?" he asks.
"Where else would it be going?"
And that's how it all started. The beginning of the end.
"You know navy spouses get a monthly stipend and are allowed to live on base?"
You remain facing the bar, peeling at the label on your bottle, not bothering to glance to your side. "You know, I really fucking wish Natasha would keep her mouth shut."
"(Y/n)—"
"It's no one else's fucking business what—"
He grabs the seat of your stool, nearly jerking it out from under you as he pulls it closer to his own. "Listen to me," he growls, a stark change from his usual demeanor.
Stubbornly leaning away so that you're not so close, you regard him with suspicious and narrowed eyes. You raise an eyebrow as if to say he's got your attention, however unwillingly.
"Right now, we're both in a tight spot, okay?"
You knew about his dad. Heard the whole spiel from Natasha— who you're learning that while, your best friend, cannot be trusted to keep her mouth shut— about how they weren't on good terms, hadn't talked since Jake got into the academy, and suddenly he calls out of the blue to tell Jake that he'd had enough of his son's playing around and that it was time for him to start thinking about getting married. That if he didn't within the next few months, he'd arrange the whole thing himself.
"You need a place to live—" You shush him, eyes darting to the people around you. You don't need anyone knowing that you can't exactly afford to pay your rent. Jake rolls his eyes because he doubts anyone could hear him even if he was yelling with how loud it is in the bar, but he lowers his voice regardless. "You need a place to live, and I need to get my old man off of my back..." He trails off, as if you should know where he's going with this.
You don't. You're just staring at him with an increasingly annoyed expression on your face, wondering how soon you can get out of this conversation.
He takes a deep breath and sighs. 
"Hear me out, okay? What if we get married?"
You had actually laughed in his face at first, and Jake was so dead serious about it that he didn't even dwell on the fact that it was the first time you had laughed at something that he'd said.
"Not a chance in hell, Seresin,"  had been your second response. But that's the thing with pretty guys, they can be awfully convincing.
It all happens so fast that you have metaphorical whiplash. Next thing you know, you're wearing a brand new diamond on your finger and going out to the bar with his entire squad the night before their deployment.
Of course, they're all a bit shocked at first. You would be too. You and Jake hadn't exactly been even remotely civil with each other just a few days prior. But if any of them are suspicious of your's and Jake's sudden union, they don't let on, all too happy to have something to celebrate before they ship out. Fanboy and Payback have each brought their wives and Natasha her girlfriend as well. You suppose you're expected to mingle with them, maybe shed a tear or two over the shared bond that your partners are going across the country, but you can't really find a way to connect with them so you kind of just avoid them altogether. You do feel bad, sitting there without a care in the world while they all try to offer comfort and reassurance to each other. But you don't really know what else to do because it's not like you're exactly sad.
Thankfully Javy, or as he's known, Coyote, stands up and raises his near empty bottle of beer in the air and saves you from anymore uncomfortable sitting. "I'd like to make a toast! To the newlyweds!" You spoke too soon. The table cheers and raises their bottles in response, all of the attention turning to where you and Jake are sitting. Cheeks immediately flushing, you have to refrain from sinking down in your seat. Jake is grinning, accepting the few rough pats on the back that he receives from Rooster beside him.
And just when you think that's the worst it's going to get, it gets worse.
"Kiss!"
You're not sure who starts it, but like teenage boys, the entire squad parrots in unison.
"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"
At first Jake just laughs and shakes his head good naturedly, shrugging off the insistent urging of his friends, and you think that's going to be the end of it. But the chanting doesn't stop and finally Jake turns towards you. Your face is probably red hot and undeniably panicked. Heart racing, you try to read him in the half second that you're given as he leans and wraps his arm around you. Is he going to kiss you? Are you supposed to kiss him?
Neither option happens. Jake's arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close into his side and at the last moment, he turns to press a kiss to your cheek. A series of disappointed boos follow but they are drowned out by clapping for the most part. He's uncomfortably close, closer than you ever would have liked to be to Jake Seresin, but you have to remind yourself that it's all for show. When Jake does turn away, you can still feel the warmth of his lips smeared against your cheek. Even so, he hasn't let go of you pressed into his side. 
Your heart still racing, you reason with yourself that if Jake can play the part, you might as well too, and under that pretense, allow yourself to hide your face into his shoulder to conceal it's redness. The smell of his cologne washes over you, and oddly enough, you don't hate it. It's subtle, with a hit of what might be amber, and nothing like the overwhelmingly masculine scent that you would have pegged him for. 
If Jake finds your sudden willingness to touch him strange, he doesn't comment on it, likely assuming that you're just trying to make this thing between the two of you seem real. You somewhat reluctantly pull away when Coyote's voice raises again.
"And here's to shooting down some fucking MiGs!"
Again, the table erupts into a chorus of cheering and hollering. You still, allowing Jake to fully pull away from your side while the proclamation rings out in your head. It's a very grounding moment, and suddenly you feel very alone sitting at the table. No one seems to have noticed your shift in mood. Maybe you're the only one put off by Javy's statement because this is their reality. There are people who are not coming home from this mission; everyone just likes to assume it won't be them. You know better.
You can't help it, the words just come out of your mouth. "That's a fucked up thing to say."
It's the first time you've really spoken up the entire night and all heads turn towards you. Based on the look in Jake's eyes, which is a bit apprehensive, as if he knows this is headed nowhere good, you realize you probably should have just kept your mouth shut.
Payback shifts uncomfortably in his chair while the rest of the crew glances around the table wearing varying states of confusion. Their gazes shift from you to Jake, as if waiting for some sort of explanation. 
Coyote is the first to break the silence. "Look, sweetheart, that's just the way things are. Here in the Navy, that's a badge of honor. Your boy Hangman here is the only one of us with a confirmed air-to-air kill."
"(Y/n)—", Jake attempts to interject, but you're not about to let him explain himself to you in front of all these people.
You set your jaw and swallow back the anger threatening to rise up in your throat. "Yeah, because killing people is so honorable."
Coyote scoffs. "We're just doing our jobs. And if that means taking down a few planes while we're at it, so be it."
"Your job is to protect people," you snap. "There are people out there who have families—"
"Alright, that's enough—" Jake begins to interject for the second time, but this time it's Coyote who interrupts him.
"Come on, man. You're really going to let her say that kinda shit—"
You stand up. "I don't need his permission to—"
"I SAID ENOUGH." This time it's startling enough to cut both of you off. "(Y/n), what is your fucking problem?" Jake snaps.
You flinch at the harshness of his question.
Your eyes travel around the quiet table, where everyone is holding their breath, and then back to Jake. His green eyes reflect a type of pissed off what would be terrifying if you weren't so angry yourself.
A small, logical part of you knows that he has a right to be angry. You've picked a fight for no apparent reason in front of his friends and he hasn't the slightest clue why. It's not his fault your brothers are dead and you blame the Navy for it.
Regardless, that doesn't make up for the fact that you're pissed off by his defense of what Coyote has said. Even though you probably owe him an explanation, you're not about to answer him when he's just yelled at you. You also know that if you don't say something, he's going to and you'd rather die before letting him tell you off in front of all these people. You abruptly push away from the table and storm off for the bar top. You can hear Jake chasing after you.
"(Y/n)."
You ignore him in favor of heading towards the back door of the Hard Deck, pushing past people regardless of whether they're in your way or not. Being slightly more considerate, you can hear Jake moving much slower as he excuses himself through the crowd.
"(Y/n)—"
You come to a stop once you reach the door, spinning on your heels with a fire in your eyes.
"What's my problem?!"
Behind you, you can hear the loud jesting and jeering of his friends back at the table. They're still ruffled with excitement from your outburst, and Coyote's voice follows your retreating back. "Jesus man, get your girl under control."
I'm not his girl, you want to snap. He doesn't own me.
Jake has stopped a few feet away from you. 
"What's my fucking problem?! My problem is that your friends are sitting over there calling murder honor."
Jake sighs harshly though his nose. Shaking his head, green eyes looking up, he begins, "He didn't mean—"
"No. I know what he meant, Jake. You're all a bunch of cowards. You're all too goddamn scared to admit that maybe you're not doing as much good as you thought over there, and so you just justify it by saying all killing is good killing, right?" you spit.
His vibrant green eyes harden but he doesn't respond. "That's some real goddamn honor, right, Jake?" you repeat, angrier this time, wanting more than just some watered down reaction from him. If there's one thing that pisses you off about Jake, it's that you've never gotten anything more than what he's conditioned himself to respond with. It's like he's locked up in this stupid box of his and the most you can ever get out of him is a glance. You want him to be angry with you.
"That's enough." His jaw is tight, and you can tell that even despite his lowered voice and rather subdued demeanor, you've hit a nerve.
"Admit it. Admit that you—“
"(Y/n)." His voice adopts a seriousness that you've never heard from him before. It sounds almost dangerous.
Jake steps towards you and for a moment you think you've won. And then in the moment following that, you actually think that he's going to get physically angry with you. Your heart stalls. Jake's a big guy, a naval aviator, and no matter how good he sells himself to be, he could hurt you if he wanted too. You would never have pegged him as someone who would put his hands on a girl, even after only knowing him for a week, but a man is a man, perfectly ironed uniform or not.
Only he doesn't. Instead he steps into your space and leans in closer than you've  ever been before. His hand presses into your back, firmly pulling you into his chest so that you have no choice but to shift closer to him, your bodies molding together. "I said that's enough. They can see us arguing."
The press of his mouth to your ear conceals the exchange of your conversation from the listening table. You can smell his cologne on the starched collar of his uniform.
"I don't care if they see us—" Pushing your palm into his chest, you try to reestablish the distance between you, but like a brick wall, Jake doesn't budge.
"You realize that we have to make this look real?" he hisses. "From here on out, they're watching everything we do. The government is watching everything we do. Do you understood that?" His voice is tense, and it sounds more urgent than angry now.
Standing there, you realize his heart is thumping heavily beneath your palm. His body is uncomfortably rigid, like a scared dog waiting for its owner to show up and see the mess he's made. Behind you, the table has gone relatively quite. Rooster murmurs something along the lines of, "It's a little early for there to be trouble in paradise already."
Someone—Coyote—responds, "I don't think he thought this through, man. They won't last two weeks."
Jake's eyes meet yours, and you know he can hear them too. You swallow, trying to relax a little in his grasp. He's right, you have to make this look real, and fighting right off the bat doesn't exactly look good.
"Are they still looking at us?" You finally ask, leery now to even speak too loud.
Jake breathes a sigh of relief beside your ear, taking your sudden quiet as cooperation. "Yeah, just keep talking, okay? Act like we're working it out."
Despite trying to appear more comfortable than you are, you don't move your hand from his chest. The coarse material of his dress whites rises and falls steadily beneath your palm. It's calming in a sense, and you try to focus on its rhythm rather than the fact that you're so close that you can feel the heat of his mouth beside your ear.
"Still looking?" You ask after a few moments pass.
He hums. "Yep."
"Well then what do we do? We can't just stand like this forever." The longer you stand together, the more details you become aware of. Like the fact that his face is freshly shaven against your cheek and that he must have brushed his teeth before this because his breath smells like Listerine.
"Look at me."
"What?" You ask, your brow furrowing as he pulls away. His hand that had been holding your waist firmly in place lifts to grip your jaw.
"You're going to have to kiss me," he explains, glancing briefly over your shoulder.
"What?" Before you can even protest, he's leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours. Without the time to process what exactly is happening given your state of alarm, all you can do is go along with it. His lips mold against yours in what might be the most borderline tame kiss you've ever had. Despite this, you are reluctantly surprised to note how good of a kisser he is. It's just forceful enough to let you know he's in control but not so much that it's unpleasant. His lips are full and taste vaguely of his mouth wash.
You don't kiss him back.
It makes no difference to the group behind you whether you actually kiss or not; they can't tell from this distance and all they have to do is believe it happened. It's more for your own self preservation than anything. It's one thing to play the part, it's another thing to get caught up in it and catch feelings. And with Jake Seresin, that was a dangerous game to play. You'd already felt it, him prying his way under your skin when he'd held you at the table and the smell of his cologne filled your sense. It would be that easy.
To his credit, Jake lingers just long enough to make the kiss believable before pulling away. Even si, it still feels uncomfortably long. He leans back and you don't miss the fact that he wipes his hand across his mouth. "Sorry," he mutters under his breath, looking away.
"Jake..." you begin, immediately feeling bad, but he stops you.
"Whatever, (Y/n). It's fine." He won't look you in the eyes now. You turn to look over your shoulder, desperate to get yourself out of this increasingly bad situation .
"They're not looking," you say, finding the table now amicably chatting with each other rather than focused on the two of you. The sudden PDA must have finally diverted their attention. "...you can step away now."
"Right," he says, clearing his throat awkwardly. Jake drops his hand from your waist and steps back like he's glad to finally put some distance between the two of you. So much for making this look natural.
You return to the table shortly after, in hand to make it appear as if you've made up and smiling tightly when Bob cheerily welcomes you back to break the awkward silence. Once seated, you drop each other's hand beneath the table immediately. The rest of the evening is spent avoiding contributing to conversations that involve the other. If anyone notices, they don't comment on the fact that the two of you hardly look at each other for the rest of the evening, and somehow you manage to put up an otherwise happily married front.
When a few of the guys finally get a little bit too drunk, specifically Rooster, you're all too happy when Natasha calls it a night. Because they ship out the next day, Jake drives you back to the hotel where all of the married couples have rented out a room for the night. Apparently it's a tradition or something. You make the drive in silence. You let him check into the room and carry both of your bags up, disappearing into the small bathroom to splash cool water onto your face. It helps to ease some of the tension from this evening. Leaning over the sink, you watch the water swirl down the drain.
Is this crazy? This is crazy, right?
Jake is sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands when you step out. He's taken off his hat and suddenly he seems a lot more fragile than he was a few minutes ago. There's a softness to him, something having been previously concealed by the precise styling of his hair and tense pull of his set jaw. Before you can break the silence, he sucks in an uneasy breath.
"Hey, we need to talk about something. Um, you know... in case I..."
In case he doesn't come back.
You swallow, looking down at the ground. After tonight, after he's kissed you, all of this is starting to feel a little bit to real. What the hell happened to pretending? This was all supposed to be pretend. "Jake, please don't do that—"
He stands up from the end of the bed, and you notice the folded paper in his hands. "This is all of my personal information, you know, bank accounts, passwords, phone numbers... Anything you might need if something happens to me." He says it all as if it's so normal, but you can hear the apprehension in the thinness of his voice.
Already, you're shaking your head as he hands you the letter. "Jake, please. I don't want that." Your heart is pounding and all you want to do in the moment is go back in time and never have agreed to do this in the first place. This was insane. What were you thinking? Like you were going to put yourself through this again? 
"(Y/n)—“ Jake tries, interrupting your spiral of thoughts.
"I said NO, Jake," you snap, stepping back from him and the letter. There are tears burning at the backs of your eyes, like you might burst into a hit of hysteria at any moment. "I change my mind. I can't do this..."
Jake's eyes glance from you to the paper in his hand and then back to you, and then he drops his outstretched arm with what sounds like a laugh. "Right. Not like we're fuckin' married or anything." He releases a puff of air from his cheeks and runs his hand through his hair like he's contemplating pulling it out. "Do you know how screwed we are if anyone finds out about this? Do you, (Y/n)??" he asks, his voice rising to a concerning level. "We're done!" 
"Jake, I—"
He tosses the letter onto the bed and sits back down with a heavy sigh, looking down at his feet. When he finally speaks again, his voice had lowered to a more acceptable volume. "It's a bit too late for you to back out now. If the Navy finds out about this— if anyone one finds out about this, I could lose my job. We could both go to jail."
Silence settles over the two of you as Jake sits on the bed, staring at his feet, and you stand there in the middle of the room, willing your heart to stop pounding in your chest. You need to get out of here before your heart implodes. You turn and grab your coat from by the door.
"Where are you going?"  Jake asks, his voice tired and annoyed.
"I need some air," you say, shrugging on your coat and opening the door. He doesn't try to stop you on the way out. 
You regret the decision the second that you walk out the door. Now that the sun is gone, it's freezing outside. Your original plan had been to go for a walk to clear your head but you doubt now you'd make it very far. Walking down the stairs and out into the nearly empty parking lot, you look around, considering whether or not you would survive the trek to a gas station. When you realize you've left your phone back in the room, you decide against it. You aren't dumb enough to walk in the dark alone. Instead you head towards Jake's truck, which is parked out by itself at the end of the lot. To your surprise, you find it's unlocked and the door swings open when you tug on the handle. You climb in and the switch to lock the door behind you. Even the inside of the car is cold but at least it's out of the wind. You hug your knees into your check and tuck your chin into them, curling up in the driver's seat to keep warm.
And then you just sob.
It's the kind of sobbing that starts long and drawn out and then escalates into the rapid breathing that happens when you can't get enough air into your lungs and it feels as though there's an entire golf ball stuck in your throat. You haven't cried this hard since you were a kid—since your first brother died. You didn't cry the second time, didn't allow yourself to feel anything the second time because you knew there wasn't going to be anyone to pull you back together if you did. 
At least being away from all of this had allowed you some time to forget, even if for just a moment, that they were gone without having to be constantly reminded. You had moved to put as much distance between yourself and the Navy as possible. Because that way life wouldn't get the chance to take another person from you in the same way. Looking at the ring on your finger now, that's exactly the opposite of what you had just done. This was just supposed to be until you could get back on your feet, and if it helped Jake out in the process then great. Now that you think about it, it was stupid of you to think that you would be able to make it through this with out catching feelings for him. 
Now you're going to lose him too.
You cry until you almost make yourself sick and then some more. Your sobbing is interrupted every few minutes when you choke on your own air and have to swallow the golf ball that is lodged in your throat so that you can breathe. You're not sure how long you sit there just crying. Surely at least an hour has passed. By the time your sobbing has slowed, your head hurts and your chest aches enough to be sore.
Knock knock knock
You jump at the noise, head shooting up from between the bracket of your knees. It's dark outside, the parking lot just barley lit in a wash of grey by the moon. Even so, you can make out Jake's broad figure in the darkness.
"Open the damn door." His order comes out in a puff of frosty condensation that warms a spot on the window, his voice only partially muffled by the barrier. His shoulders are hunched against the cold, the upturned collar of his coat doing little to protect him from the brutal conditions.
For a while you just stare at him through the window, swallowing back the spit in your throat.
"Open the door," he repeats, knowing better than to think that you can't hear him. If only locking yourself in his car was the solution of all of your problems. Reluctantly, you reach over and click the lock, slowly rolling down the window.
After it stops, you stare at each other through the open car window, separated only by the frame of door that he could now easily reach out and open. His soft brown hair is mushed and in disarray, nose and cheeks tinted pink form the chill. The pleasant green of his eyes is mostly hidden as he squints against the wind.
Finally, you suck in a breathe, your chest shuddering. "I cannot do this," you stress, all of the fear that you've been shoving down now presenting itself in a singular sentence.
Jake sighs, his face softening to reflect a look of sympathy. "Look, I promise you, it's not that bad. You'll come with me to the carrier when I ship out tomorrow, we'll hug each other goodbye, and then you won't even have to see me for a couple of months. It'll be like none of this ever happened. And when I come back... we'll figure it out. Okay?" His voice is soft and understanding, like he's talking to a child.
You stare at the dashboard, your stomach still churning anxiously. "That's not what I'm... It's not you, Jake." Quite the opposite. "I lost my brothers to the Navy. Both of them. And I don't think I can take losing anyone else."
Immediately Jake's face falls as he puts everything into place. Your initial distaste for him, your furious outburst at Hard Deck, your reluctance to have have anything to do with the Navy... "I—God, I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I had no idea."
You shrug, calming down now that you've finally let go over everything that you've been holding in. "I asked Natasha not to tell you. I just thought that I could get over it so what was the point in even telling you?"
The wind blowing into through the open window is bone chilling and so you can only imagine how cold Jake is standing outside the car. For a while there's only the sound of his quiet breathing.
"Nothing's going to happen to me, (Y/n)," he says into the darkness.
"How can you be so sure?"
Hands shoved into his pockets, body braced against the wind, he shrugs. "I'm not. But if I didn't tell myself that every morning, I'd never get out of bed."
Sighing, you pull the handle on the inside of the door. "C'mon, it's fucking cold out there."
Jake huffs as if to say, you're telling me, and grabs the handle to pull open the door. Only instead of climbing in, he steps further inside the door and grabs your head in his cold hands so that your faces are mere inches apart. "I mean it, kid. I'm not going to leave you, alright? You just gotta trust me."
Looking into his eyes, you know he means it. For the second time since you've known Jake, you really see him. Standing before you is the same man that you saw in both of your brothers. Granted, they were much younger than he is now, but you get it. You'd been trying to see him as anyone else other than the brothers you lost, praying that it would hurt less, but you can't make someone into something they're not. 
"Okay," you whisper. "I trust you, Jake."
You're awake hours earlier than what you're used to in the morning, but that's only because you had glanced at the alarm clock at half past three and realized that you only had few hours left with Jake. The both of you had returned to the hotel room and changed in comfortable silence, slipping into the single bed together without a word. Jake had reached over and pulled you into him without so much as a second thought. Now his body is draped heavily on top of yours, his nose tucked into your hair as your fingers trace along the bare skin of his exposed back. 
You switch between staring at the ceiling and watching the numbers change on the alarm clock, trying to think about anything other than the fact that Jake would wake up in about an hour, you'd drop him off at the carrier at six, and that would be it. You'd only just gotten him and now you were going to have to let him go.
When Jake's alarm does go off, you're more emotional than you thought you would be, but Jake seems to be fine, dutifully putting on his uniform and carefully packing all of his bags, so you try to put on a brave face. You move slowly, dragging out the process of getting dressed as long as possible just so that there's no excuse to leave for the dock any sooner than you have too. After you're done getting ready, you watch him shave once and then again for good measure before he ultimately decides that you've both wasted enough time putting off the inevitable.
The drive there is silent as well and would have been unbearable had Jake not reached over the consol to reassuringly squeeze your hand. He doesn't let go of it until you pull into the crowded port. Between people trying to get their things on board and a bunch of teary goodbyes, it's beyond you how you manage to find the Dagger Squad in the midst of the chaos. Fanboy and Payback are saying goodbye to their families while Rooster and Natasha chatter excitedly with an older man also dressed in naval attire, the name plate on his uniform identify him as 'Maverick'. It's all so overwhelming that only when Jake squeezes your hand again do you realize that it's time for you to say goodbye.
Reluctantly, you turn towards him, interlocked hands swinging between the two of you. He does his best to smile, and to his credit, it's not entirely fake. "Well," he sighs. "This it it."
"For now," you add, returning his soft smile as you look up at him.
"For now," Jake agrees, his smile brightening now that you seem to be okay also. He pauses, just staring down at you for a moment before he adds, "Are you going to let me kiss you?"
You smile, answering him this time without hesitation. "Only if you keep your promise."
Jake's large hand comes up to cup your cheek, cradling your chin in his palm as he leans down to you. "I promise," he murmurs before pressing his mouth to yours, perhaps even more tender than he did the first time at Hard Deck. Only this time you reciprocate it, chasing his mouth as you lift up on your toes and run your fingers through the back of his hair. Groaning, Jake sighs into the kiss. It's dizzying and you don't know how it's possible to put all of the passion that you've been holding back into one kiss, but somehow you do. His lips are soft and you have to shove down the urge to grip his hair and demand him for more, because it by some miracle occurs to you that you're on a ship in front of hundreds people. 
Jake's the one to pull away, his eyes shining and pink lips slightly more swollen than they were a minute ago. You can't help but laugh, wiping away some of your lipgloss from his mouth with your thumb. "Goodbye, Jake."
"Goodbye, (Y/n). And don't forget, I'll see you soon."
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holymusicalmothman · 7 months
Text
Sweet Nothings -- OPLA!Sanji x Reader
I've only seen the Live Action, so this is new for me. I started reading the manga a few hours ago and the anime is bookmarked on my Crunchyroll. But for now, I'm working with what I've got. So this is exclusively the Live Action. Best friends to Lovers Trope cause I wanted to. I'm not entirely happy with how this turned out so I might redo it at some point.
Also, shoutout to @avidanadvocacy who managed to like and reblog this within, like, five seconds of me posting it. They're probably the only reason I sat down and wrote this lol
Warnings: vague mentions of canon typical violence, reader is very cautious of showing the fact they're rather soft (not sure if that counts as a warning or makes sense, I'm tired lol)
No use of y/n, or those weird descriptor things, reader is gender neutral. Reader is however you imagine them
Word Count: 2.5k
Masterlist
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I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it Does it ever miss Wicklow sometimes?
You had known Sanji since you were young. You had both been around twelve at the time Zeff took you in, after you had been abandoned rather unceremoniously at the Baratie. You couldn’t remember much about the pirates who had left you behind, not that it mattered to you. You were thankful, even after all the years since, that Zeff had taken you in. You weren’t a skilled cook, but you were diligent and hard working, so you worked as a head waiter. 
Having grown up around Sanji, you were used to his…antics. He was a flirt to each and every female customer, but whenever you asked, he would wave you off and laugh about it being how he simply ‘gets the customers to keep coming back.’ And you’d roll your eyes and continue on with your business. He had been your best friend for years. When you had initially met, you had simply clicked and that was that. Nothing to it. 
He would make you smile on your worst days and you’d do the same for him. Because that’s what friends do. Right?
The first moment you had doubted that his friendship was just that was the day he lent you his coat. 
You had just stopped in the kitchen to drop off orders and take a quick breather. The lunch rush at the Baratie was merciless on a good day.
The winds had shifted earlier in the day and despite the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, a chill passed through you and you shivered. 
Within moments, a navy blue suit jacket had been deposited around your shoulders.
You turned to see Sanji grinning at you.
“Wouldn’t do for our favorite waiter to catch cold now, would it?” He said before walking deeper into the kitchen. 
You smiled at his retreating form, then slipped your arms into the coat properly and rolled the sleeves so that you’d be able to work.
A bit of time had passed since then, and you stopped to survey the tables around the restaurant, putting your hands into the pockets of Sanji’s jacket.
Your fingers brushed against something and you pulled it out in confusion.
A pebble sat in the palm of your hand. Just as blue as the day you had initially found it two years back.
Zeff had sent you both for supplies and you had spotted it. It was a stunning cerulean blue and you had immediately thought of your best friend. He had told you of the All Blue, and ever since that moment you had associated the color with him. Not every shade of blue, of course, but only the ones that were the most beautiful. One’s that caught the eye and seemed to shimmer.
You had almost forgotten the tiny pebble. But this jacket…Sanji’s favorite. There would be no way he’d be unaware of it being in the pocket. 
You put the stone back. Your mind racing. 
They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing
The one thing you didn’t like about the Baratie was the fighting. You knew it was inevitable, especially with pirates. You were old enough now to look past it. It was a fact of life. Sometimes it was genuine fighting, other times customers simply got into little spats that were easier to ignore.
You sighed and wandered into the kitchen. Zeff had stepped out to smooth the wrinkles on whatever argument had broken out. To be entirely honest, the dinner shift had taken it out of you and you were exhausted. 
You plopped down in a chair off to the side with another heavy sigh and shut your eyes.
The clink of dishware being set before you and a chair scraping the ground next to you brought you to open your eyes again. 
A rice dish sat in front of you, a glass of water next to it. Sanji’s eyes watched you carefully.
“What is it?” You knew the Baratie menu inside and out, and this was definitely not on it.
A signature smile graced his face. “Seafood risotto. Nothing terribly fancy, just terribly good.” 
“Does Zeff know about this?” You asked, taking a bite. It was divine. 
Blue eyes twinkled. “What the old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Sanji paused, smile fading and voice growing soft. “You seem tired, sweetheart.”
You tried to squash the flutter in your chest. It had been months since you found the pebble in Sanji’s coat, and you had found out that he always carried it. Your heart had run away with that information. And while the blond had called you by the same pet name for years, it felt different now that your affections towards your best friend had shifted. You kept the information to yourself, afraid of change. 
So instead you shrugged, continuing to eat. “I guess I’m a little tired? The dining room has kept me on my toes all day and I didn’t sleep very easy last night.”
Sanji’s brows furrow in concern at that. “Well, make sure you finish eating. And try and get some better sleep tonight. For me, yeah?”
You swallowed. He always looked at you so sweetly. Always treated you so differently than the girls he flirted with for good tips. Now he was giving you that small smile, blond hair in his face as always, but the softness in his eyes was unmistakable.
You nodded, “Of course, Sanji.” 
Your heart was doing somersaults. 
On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time
Monkey D Luffy came barrelling into both your lives like a cannonball. One moment life was as it had been for years, the next finds both you and Sanji preparing to leave the Baratie and join the crew of the Going Merry
You weren’t sure why Luffy had insisted you come too. When you had asked him, he had only shrugged with a smile, saying that it had felt like the right thing to do.
So, you made yourself useful where you could. Whether it be helping Sanji, or any of the other Straw Hats. 
Luffy had soon after discovered that you enjoyed writing. 
It was the day before everything went wrong. 
You and Sanji had left the Baratie that afternoon, Zorro was on the road to recovery from his battle against Dracule Mihawk, and everything seemed fine .
A conversation of dreams had even arisen over a meal, and you had shyly mentioned how you enjoyed writing. Not that there was time for it while waiting tables. 
Sanji was surprised and intrigued to find a new side of you. You had never mentioned it to him. It was just a silly little hobby in your eyes and, in the life you led, you had always kept those simple things to yourself. Not even sharing them with your best friend. 
Luffy, however, had been delighted and immediately asked if you would document the voyage.
Granted, his wording had been more along the lines of “write down our adventures”, but same thing.
Later that night, Sanji had found you on the deck, a new journal in your hand. 
“A writer, eh?” He had that soft voice again. 
You nodded, refusing to look at him properly. “I want to be a famous poet someday.” You whispered, inwardly afraid of making such an admission.
The years on the Baratie had led you to shove all the soft spoken emotions deep down, gentleness was not a trait most pirates were fond of. But your new captain was the exact opposite, his kindness earning your trust instantly. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that you had found a new and true friend in Luffy. 
But you’d never replace Sanji.
Your heart seemed to clench and you opened your mouth to apologize for keeping it from him, but when you looked at him, your breath caught and your voice failed you.
The chef was always sweet on you, but he looked at you in that moment as if you had hung the stars. 
“What a mind.” He said quietly, as if he was simply in awe of you. 
Unbeknownst to you, Sanji had been looking at you like that for years. There was a reason he called you sweetheart, why you were always the first to try his new creations, why he treated you so differently than all the other girls. A reason why he was so sweet on you. 
Everyone could see it. Zorro knew. Nami knew. Usopp knew. Luffy knew. The young captain had made sure to bring you both from the Baratie. If it meant he had to separate the two of you, then Luffy would have never had Sanji come aboard as Chef. 
Even Zeff knew. Which was why he had let you both go.
However, you couldn’t see it.
But in that moment, with Sanji looking at you, you were ready to throw it all away. Willing to possibly ruin years of friendship if it just meant you could kiss him once.
'Cause they said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming All that you ever wanted from me was nothing
Nami’s betrayal had shocked you all to the core. You had only known her for such a short time, but it had still hurt.
Sanji was convinced that her alliance with Arlong wasn’t something she had chosen. Zorro seemed to only see it in black and white, positive that she had made her choice. 
Luffy simply wanted to hear the truth from Nami herself. And only then would he believe it. 
So the Going Merry was currently sailing for the Conomi Islands just to hear that truth. 
It was once again late at night, but sleep would not come. The day’s events play over and over in your mind, keeping you wide awake.
So you headed quietly to the kitchen only to find the light on and an equally awake Sanji sitting quietly with a cup of tea, humming to himself. 
You froze. You had almost kissed him the night before, fear holding you back. 
But he had already seen you. 
“Can’t sleep either, can you, sweetheart?” 
You gave up on resisting, going to sit beside him. 
Without speaking, he poured you a cup of tea, setting it before you.
“Chamomile. Should help.” Was all he said. 
The day had left you both content with each other’s silence as you sat next to each other, shoulders brushing lightly. Sanji eventually went back to humming. 
You couldn’t tell if it was the gentle movement of the ship as it sailed, the tea, or even Sanji himself humming softly next to you, but eventually your eyes shut.
Vaguely, you were aware of being carried and eventually set down gently in your hammock. 
Something brushed your forehead and you thought you heard Sanji’s voice before you drifted fully into sleep. You felt almost certain it was a kiss, but you were too deep in the fog of sleep to deem that true. It had most likely been your imagination.
“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”
Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
The fight against Arlong and his pirates had once again changed everything overnight. You wouldn’t lie, it was terrifying. But you had prevailed. The Straw Hats won in the end. Nami and her village were safe.
It had brought so many things to light for you. As soon as you had all reboarded the Going Merry, you dutifully recorded the events of the day, from the villagers of Coco Village to the fight at Arlong Park, you made your way to the kitchen, needing solace from your best friend. 
Your emotions had been bottled the whole day. Yes, fighting was inevitable. You were a pirate, it was simply a fact of life. But you still didn’t like it. 
“Sanji?” You called.
The kitchen was empty to your surprise, so you made your way to the deck, finding him by the tangerine trees.
He had the pebble in his hand as you walked up and your heart began to race. He slipped it back into his pocket as he noticed you and you pretended not to see.
Instead you wrapped your arms around his middle, and Sanji instantly returned your hug, holding you close.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” 
“I don’t know. I think…” you trailed off.
Sanji released you from the hug, but still kept you within his arms. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 
You nodded. “I think…I’m too soft for all this sometimes.” You admitted slowly. “I mean, I can do it, don’t get me wrong. But, Sanji, today was terrifying. And the Grand Line is supposed to be worse.”
That twinkle and smile were back again. “You’re not too soft, sweetheart. You’re perfect. You were strong today, and I know you don’t like fighting. But you’re brave, and you protect those you care about. Being soft doesn’t make you weak.”
“But what if it does?” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “Because–”
You stopped, confessions halting on your lips.
“Because what, sweetheart? Stop hiding yourself, it’s just me.”
“That’s exactly why I’m hiding.”
He frowned in confusion, silently imploring you to continue.
“Because you make me feel soft. I kept my writing to myself because somehow it always ended up being about you. Whether it be the way you look at me or even the fact you kept that pebble.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Apparently he had genuinely thought you hadn’t noticed.
“We’re supposed to be pirates, Sanji. There’s no softness allowed in this profession.”
He gently pulled you a little closer, warm breath now able to be felt on your face as he spoke, “I think we’ve already proven we’re a different sort of pirate than what’s expected, sweetheart.”
You were drowning in an ocean of greyish blue. The little nickname. That tiny sweet nothing. It wore down any and all of the final doubts and reserves in your mind and the two of you melted into each other. 
He held you tightly, arms around you as both your hands grabbed tightly to his shirt, the both of you lost in a kiss that seemed like forever. 
Eventually it ended, and he rested his forehead gently against yours.
“I’m in love with you, sweetheart.” He said gently. “How’s that for being soft, hmm?”
A small smile formed upon your face. The both of you had been oblivious to the other, yes. But at the same time, all of Sanji’s little sweet nothings over the years–both in words and actions–played quickly through your head. The past week had pulled everything straight to the surface. 
“I love you, too.”
All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothings.
Not entirely happy with this but it's late. Let me know what you think. I'm still new to this fandom, and there's a lot of content that I've yet to learn about. But I'll get there.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 10 months
Text
Eddie's mom was a free spirit who got taken too soon but educated her son in anything and everything that she found interesting. And she found A LOT of things interesting.
Eddie still secretly keeps these interests and sure, some of them are expected (weed and the best strains), some less so (obsessive reading and perfect knowledge of Edith Piaf). Eddie can even make fantastic mixed drinks ("My mom worked as a bartender for a bit and she practiced at home, what are you staring at, Henderson?!") and can quote most of Le Fleurs Du Mal from memory.
Steve learns to accept and even expect this. Mythology? Of course. Random bits of knowledge from history? Of course. The man only knows SOS in Morse code but can tie nearly every single knot known to humanity? Weird, but it's Eddie.
But then he finds out Eddie knows a fuck ton about horoscopes and astrology. It only takes a single moment of distraction on Eddie's part - Steve is complaining about his latest date, a girl Eddie knows from his class, and he scoffs.
"Well, duh. Of course it didn't work out, Steve, her Moon sign's an Aries and yours is Cancer, that's a recipe for a short fling, not a long relationship."
Steve just stares at him.
Eddie's eyes go wide as he realizes what he's just said. "Uh, I mean..." he scrambles for an explanation, "...she...sounds really stubborn?" he says slowly.
Steve blinks once. Twice. Then his mouth twitches upwards. "What is your Moon sign?"
Eddie feels like it should be a joke, but Steve is patiently waiting for his answer, encouraging smile and those fucking delicious moles. "I'm...uh. I'm a Scorpio. Moon sign, that is," he mutters and hypnotizes Steve's left eyebrow. "Which is...you know. People think it sucks."
"And does it?"
He snorts and shakes his head. "Nah, well. You know, we can be kinda...secretive? But Moon signs are all about your emotions and the inner you, so...it takes a while to get to really understand Moon Scorpios, but then we're the most loyal bunch you'll ever find."
Steve just nods, still smiling. "That's cool, doesn't sound bad at all. But - are you compatible with a Cancer Moon?"
And Eddie probably should have asked "hey, what the fuck," but someone is asking him about his interest, no irony and all that, and that isn't something frequent according to the Munson doctrine. "Oh yeah, absolutely. I mean, Scorpios can be a bit intense, but they're both water signs, you know? And it depends on the Sun sign and rising too, so..."
Somehow, they spend the whole evening discussing astrology. Well, Eddie is. Steve is just listening and asking questions.
Somehow, Eddie manages to calculate both of their charts (because Steve asked).
Steve asks a lot of stuff. "How would you make someone with your chart open up?", "What would be an ideal date for that kind of person?", "Is there something I should be careful about?" and Eddie answers everything but somewhere deep thinks man, I really envy the girl he's doing this for. She's lucky she shares the same birthday and place of birth with me.
It only clicks two weeks later when Steve invites Eddie to hang out and takes him to an alleged haunted mansion. Which...might have been one of the more outlandish ideas Eddie gave him, but he said he would actually love that and that it would fit with the Scorpio dark and brooding aesthetic, if Steve's girl is like that.
He stares at the haunted house, at Steve's sweater (the one Eddie told Steve suits him the best) and a small picnic basket and he realizes.
I gave Steve Harrington a complete guide to dating me.
Steve smirks at him and gently touches his hand, careful not to spook him. "So, what does your Scorpio Moon say?"
Eddie groans and, after briefly checking that no one is around, quickly presses his lips to Steve's cheek. "Apart from "Eddie Munson, how the fuck didn't you notice sooner?" It's purring."
The younger man laughs and Eddie could bask in that sound forever. "Pretty sure scorpions can't purr."
"With you, pretty boy? They sure can."
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hugshughes · 5 months
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this is me trying L. Fantilli
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Luca Fantilli x fem!reader
synopsis - You just want Luca to know that you're trying.
wc - 2.5k
contains - cursing, academic burnout (self reflection...), crying, not feeling good enough, reader has an older brother, um suggestiveness??? (reader makes one joke), that's it! LMK!
an - im so sorry i kept you guys waiting... but happy thanksgiving, forgive me im so thankful for you guys. this was a bit more self indulgent than my other fics... THIS WAS SO LATE BECAUSE i wrote 2000+ words then they didn't save and so i literally cried over it and couldn't write for the rest literal week whenever i came back to it i was upset, like i was that sad guys. and i really don't love this because it just isn't as perfect as the first one i wrote was. anyways hope you love this!
-
i've been having a hard time adjusting. i had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting.
You were sick. Not like physical illness, go to the doctor and get medicine sick. You were sick of waking up every day, going to the same classes, eating the same food, coming home, sitting alone in your dorm, then falling asleep and doing it over again. But you couldn't afford to do anything else at the same time. If you wanted to get the grades you needed to pass your current classes, you were going to have to work your ass off.
You were always considered gifted. You took advanced classes all of high school, attending college-level courses in your junior year. Even in your freshman year at Umich, you passed with flying colors, but now, now it was different. You don't know why classes were so much harder now, and it was especially hard because everything had always been so easy.
Even with all of this, you had Luca. Luca had been your boyfriend since October of freshman year. He'd always stood by your side no matter what, but now it felt different. He'd never seen you like this, struggling so much with things you were known for being good at. You remember him telling you how proud he was when you had gotten a 98% on one of your final exams last year, you were worried he wouldn't be proud anymore.
As a child, you were conditioned into thinking that better grades meant better treatment from your parents. Your brother had been a star student always until he'd slacked off senior year and ended up going to a college he was way too smart for. When that happened, your parents decided you wouldn't be like your brother. You would go to a good school, and get good grades, and in exchange they would love you, at least that's how it felt.
i didn't know if you'd care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that.
All the love you'd ever known was for a price, your parents', your boyfriend's, even your brother's it was like you had to be good enough before they would consider you lovable.
You never felt this from Luca, but you never gave him a reason to think otherwise. You'd always been this smart girl for him, a girl he bragged about to his friends. The girl he could go to for help in classes.
You didn't mean to be pushing Luca away, but you were so stressed and didn't want to bring him into it.
I know I already said you weren't sick like an illness, but right now you felt gross. You were stuffy and coughing and had a pounding headache, but you had assignments due at 11:59 pm and they couldn't wait. It was 9:03 pm and it didn't look like you were gonna get any relief from class work for a while longer.
pulled the car off the road to the lookout. could've followed my fears all the way down.
You didn't even know you were crying until you saw tears fall onto your iPad screen, where you were currently writing notes for a quiz you had tomorrow. You felt completely helpless. You couldn't stop and let yourself wallow, because you had to get moving on your study guide.
You dropped your Apple Pencil and just buried your face in your hands, rubbing your eyes till you saw stars. Your pity party was interrupted by your phone ringing. Your phone was on your studying do not disturb so if someone's call was coming through it had to be Luca's.
You quickly tried to steady your breathing before swiping to answer the call.
"Hi?"
"Hey. So, what's with you totally skipping my game? You know that meant a lot to me."
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. How did you forget? You were the worst girlfriend ever.
"Oh my God, Luca. I'm so fucking sorry, it completely slipped my mind, oh my God, I didn't even know. I had a really long day, baby, I'm so sorry."
You were trying not to cry even more, you didn't want Luca to think you were a crybaby. Crybaby. That's what your parents called you whenever you got like this, too much for them to love.
and maybe i don't quite know what to say,
Luca just sighed, upset. He was upset with you, and you couldn't fix it. You could hear rustling on Luca's end, and another voice. All of a sudden you were seventeen getting a call from your nineteen-year-old boyfriend while he cheated on you, while another girl laid with him.
but i'm here in your doorway.
You didn't think Luca would do that to you, you really knew he wouldn't. But that one part of you was just screaming that you'd proven yourself unworthy to him, that he was done.
i just wanted you to know,
"I just, I don't even know anymore. You haven't consistently talked to me in weeks, every time we do speak you're in your head, and you keep pushing things off and forgetting. I just don't know what I'm doing wrong here."
Fuck, you couldn't stop the floodgates now. You quickly sniffed, holding the phone away from you so he wouldn't hear, soaking the cuff of your sweatshirt sleeve with tears before trying to respond.
"No, no Luc, you're not doing anything wrong. The last month has just been tough, I just don't know how to tell you. I'm trying Luca, I am, and I'm sorry. I know it doesn't fix anything and you still have every right to be angry with me, I understand why-"
this is me trying.
"Hey, it's whatever, just don't worry about it."
No. No this couldn't happen like this. He couldn't be checking out of your relationship right now. You needed him, even if you didn't know how to tell him. You accidentally let out a whimper when you tried to speak, before shakily breathing a deep breath and trying again.
"No, it isn't. I'm not being good to you. I just- Fuck Luca I'm sorry I didn't mean to forget, and I'm not meaning to be such a bad girlfriend I just, there's just,"
"Just what?"
"I don't know how to tell you! I don't want you to think differently about me Luc. You've never seen me like this."
Your trauma was truly shining through, you were terrified of Luca thinking you weren't smart.
"Are you like uninterested now? You could just tell me, not lead me on! Not just ghost me!"
"No Luca! I love you so much, I'm in love with you. I just-"
You cut yourself off, letting out a stressed sigh, rubbing your eyes when you felt the tears prick in them.
i just wanted you to know,
You didn't know what to say, it was so complicated. Every time you ever tried to talk about this with your family they shut you down, told you you were wrong for feeling like you did, and you didn't want Luca to think those things too.
"I just can't do this stuff anymore,"
"What?"
this is me trying.
"I'm just not smart anymore, and everything is so hard. And I don't know how to talk to you about it 'cause I don't want you to think I'm not smart, but I don't think I am anymore."
"Oh, baby."
Luca was stunned, his girl was going through something and he was upset with her over a hockey game. He thought you were beginning to distance yourself from him because you started to be uninterested in him. He never would've assumed you were doing it because you were scared to talk to him. He never would've assumed you were scared he would think less of you.
"Hey, it's okay. Everything's gonna be alright, okay? How about I come over? We can talk more about everything and I know I'm not the brightest guy when it comes to all of your stuff but I could try to help. That okay, pretty?"
"Yes. Please, Angel. Need you right now."
"Okay, give me a couple minutes, I'll be right there. I love you, okay?"
"I love you, Luc."
Luca let you hang up, taking a deep breath and sitting for a moment just to take in what had just happened. He had a bad feeling in his stomach now, knowing how you were hurting. He quickly recovered and got up, putting his shoes and a hat on backward before leaving his dorm.
He walked fast through campus to get to your dorm building, the cold motivating him further. When he got to your dorm building, he quickly went up the stairs, taking two at a time, and to your room. You were in a single this year, so he wasn't worried about a roommate being bothered by his presence. He knocked on the decorated door gently, bouncing on his feet waiting for you.
they told me all of my cages were mental, so i got wasted like all my potential.
Luca could've sworn he felt his heart break when he saw your face, the exhaustion mixed with sadness wearing you down. He didn't say anything before jumping to wrap his arms around you, just holding you for a minute. You clung to him so tightly, you'd missed him so badly while digging yourself into a hole of isolation.
"Hi sweet girl."
You could've started crying again. He held you gently but firmly, and it was all you ever needed. You felt yourself relax for the first time in two and a half weeks.
and my words shoot to kill when i'm mad. i have a lot of regrets about that.
"Hi Luc"
You sniffled, and Luca just melted. He pulled away from you just a little, pulling his arms away so he could cradle your faces in his palms. You brought your hands up to rest on his wrists, rubbing your thumbs back and forth.
"I missed you, pretty."
You missed him like a little kid. But it was your fault you were ever apart.
i was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere.
"I missed you. 'M so sorry I isolated myself from you, I'm so fucking stressed right now. Everything is hard and it's scary 'cause it's never been hard like this for me, and I-"
fell behind all my classmates and i ended up here,
"I know baby. It is scary. College is just scary. And you are like the smartest girl I think ever so I know it's like even scarier for you when things don't make sense quickly, but it's gonna be okay. Because you have your amazing, talented, stud of a boyfriend to help you."
pouring out my heart to a stranger. but i didn't pour the whiskey.
You gave him a look, laughing for the first time in many days.
"He is pretty amazing, and talented, and hot, isn't he?"
i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying. i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying.
He nodded reassuringly, before putting his hands on your hips and pushing you back into your room, closing your door behind him.
"Damn, you just got here."
"Shut the hell up."
You laughed as you climbed up onto your bed, pulling Luca up next to you after he took his shoes off.
at least i'm trying.
"So, about this class. What do we need to learn?"
You explained how tonight you only really needed to do two things, finish a paper that was 75% done, and do another assignment that if you could figure out how to understand the concept, would be done in no time. You both snuggled close together while looking at the paper, Luca helping you through sentences you got stuck on. You finished the paper quickly, then pulled up your notes for the concept of the other assignment.
and it's hard, to be at a party when i feel like an open wound. it's hard to be anywhere these days when all i want is you.
At one point Luca took your laptop to read through the notes so you just turned over and rested your head on his chest, before seeing his gorgeous hair covered by a stupid hat grabbing it off of him, and putting it on your bedside table.
"No hats in my room."
"What? Since when?"
"Since I want to see your pretty hair, not the maize and blue hat I see every other day."
Luca just laughed, shaking his head and running his non-scrolling hand down your back. Luca somehow understood the concept and reiterated it to you in a way that made everything click. He was your good luck charm, you knew it. Everything made sense with him.
you're a flashback, in a film reel, on the one screen in my town.
You made him lay on your chest with your laptop resting on his back while you completed the assignment. One hand was in his hair while the other was gliding across the keyboard. You finished it in 20 minutes. And your chest felt so much lighter after you hit the submit button.
You closed your laptop, sliding it onto the floor before putting both of your hands into Luca's hair.
"I knew you could do it, baby. You just needed someone to tell you that."
"I love you."
"I love you so much."
Luca's arms around your middle tightened, and he moved his head to look up at you.
"I know you feel like you have to be this perfect person, baby, but I need you to know you don't have to do that for anyone, especially me. Because you are everything, and I can't take care of you if you're scared to talk to me about how you're feeling. I know your parents and other people make you feel like if you don't do good at school they will love you less, but you need to know that you could flunk out of school, and you would still be the most important person to me, okay?"
i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying.
You were crying. You pulled him somehow closer and hugged him so tight, pulling away after over a minute to give him a good long kiss that expressed your gratitude. Because you were, so fucking grateful. This boy had seen all of it, and still chose you, and would continue to choose you until his last breath.
(and maybe i don't quite know what to say,)
"Thank you, Angel. You don't know how much hearing that means to me. I love you, so so much."
"You're everything. I see that you're trying, and that is always gonna be enough."
i just wanted you to know, that this is me trying. at least i'm trying.
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ghouljams · 4 days
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If I may,
For your regency AU, does Gaz get to meet and or hold bug before they get married? When does he learn that he has a baby? Does Birdie recognize him? ((What's her moms reaction when they learn that bugs his kid))
Please and thank you! I have so many questions!
Kyle treats you like he's known you for years, he talks about you like he knows everything about you and as of yet you've had no reason to stop him. It's hard to say you recognize him or don't, you spent so much of your time with him with your face buried against his neck, with his face obscured by your cunt, or with your eyes shut tight against the pleasure he sent coursing through you. The only real remnant of the man that took your virginity nearly two years ago is your child, and it's hard to say you recognize a baby's face in Kyle's.
But he gathers you in his arms and kisses you, and it feels like something you've forgotten. His warmth beckons you home, itches at a memory that's had you with your hand between your legs more nights than you care to admit. He's determined to marry you, and though you like him more than any of the other suitors that have tried to claim the same prize you value your freedom far more. You've been wracking your brain for reasons to reject his proposal and he's countered each and every one. You're running out of options. You decide to take a page out of your friend's book; if you can't convince a man with your words, you'll do it with your actions.
"I have a child." You tell Sergeant Garrick over tea. You mother nearly spits. Sergeant Garrick only pauses, his cup raised, his lips just grazing the edge of the china. He lowers the cup back to its saucer and takes a deep steadying breath.
"What she means-" your mother starts, already trying to spin your sin to something less wonderful than it is. She's cut off quickly.
"May I meet them?" Sergeant Garrick asks, his hands folded neatly in his lap. Your mother's neck nearly breaks with how quickly she turns to look at him. You blink in surprise. He raises a brow, holds your gaze, calls your bluff. "Unless they're not here."
You settle your cup down, watch the soft sway of tea against the floral pattern. You can feel your mother staring at you, daring you to make another move that will doom you to spinster-hood. "Of course," You smile, brushing your gloved hands against the front of your dress as you stand. Sergeant Garrick stands as well, and offers his hand to guide you around the table as your mother balks. He holds your fingers tight as you lead him to meet your baby.
Despite your mother's insistence, the town's supposed value on reputation, and whatever other forces may be, you love your baby. You'd wager they're the sweetest thing that's ever graced the earth. A little angel from heaven, all smiles and coos. You push the nursery door open and hold your finger to your lips to keep the good sergeant quiet. He looks as serious as death following after you, his brows drawn together as you lift your sleeping infant from their crib.
You kiss their sweet little head, and sweep the little curls from their forehead so Kyle can get a better look at their face. He steps closer, his hand sliding around your waist to rest against your back. The movement surprises you, he must sense as much the way his thumb rub soothingly against your skirt. He raises his other hand, brushes his fingers over the baby's cheek, as gentle as a spring breeze. Something softens in his expression, and he pulls his hand from your back to reach for the baby.
"May I?" He asks, his voice low. There's no insistence to it, no malice, only a soft imploring tone that makes you shift your grip so he can take them from you. Your baby settles easily in Kyle's arms, and he's quick to tuck their swaddle more tightly around them. "Beautiful," He whispers.
You suck in a breath, unaware you'd been holding it, and reach to take them back. Something nervous and fluttery in your stomach urging you to get your baby back where you know they're safe. Kyle catches your hand and tugs you sharply, catching you against his chest. You push against him and his grip tightens around your shoulders.
"Sergeant-"
"I should have married you when I had the chance," Kyle tells you, leaving no room for discussion in his tone, "I'm not going to make that mistake again."
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Would you be willing to write how the brothers (any you decide but at least leviathan mammon and belphie) as well as any side characters (Raphael and barbatos perhaps?) would react to us/the reader telling them "you always were my favourite." ? Thank you even if you don't do my request I love how you characterize them. You write Raphael really well also [: - ⛓️
telling them they're your favorite
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includes: older brothers, belphie, barbatos, raphael x/& gn!reader, luke & gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)
wc: .7k | rated g | m.list
a/n: ught this was so fun to write and tysm!! i hope you enjoy! my inbox is open to chat, req, and leave feedback so come say hi &lt;3
reblogs plz =)
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➳ lucifer flicks a glance over at you. “is that so?” he asks, brow raising. “i thought you didn’t have favorites.” “well, i would never admit it to the rest of them, but you just get me so well. and cause me the least number of headaches,” you reply, and he lets out a half-chuckle. “i wonder why you’re admitting it to me now,” lucifer ponders aloud. “it probably has nothing to do with the fact that i know you’re hungry and know i keep snacks hidden in my desk.”
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➳ mammon loses his composure quickly, sputtering. you don’t think you’ve ever seen his cheeks get that red that fast. he recovers after a long moment, chest puffing out. “i always knew it,” he insists, pride heavy in his tone. “i mean, i am your first man an’ all. it’s only natural that you’d like me best, especially since i am the coolest and best-looking of all of us.” you laugh, and he goes on. “but ya should tell me. why exactly am i your favorite and what do you like about me best?”
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➳ levi shakes his head. “no, you’re just saying that to cheer me up. there’s no way a gross, lonely, yucky otaku like me is your favorite!” “you shouldn’t say those things about yourself,” you insist, laying on the puppy-dog eyes for n extra guilt factor. “it makes me sad. and i hate seeing my favorite–or should i say my bias?–sad.” levi gives you a little half-smile, convincing clearly working, and you decide to go in for the kill, prey upon his envy. “but i suppose if you don’t want to be my favorite i can pick someone else…” wow, did that turn his mind around!
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➳ belphie huffs out a laugh. “please, i know you wouldn’t actually ever admit it, even though it’s true. what is it you want?” even if you insist, you know he won’t believe you, or at least believe you’re actually admitting it like he said, so you just come clean. “well, i need a ride and mammon’s the only other one home but he always makes me give him gas money.” “i knew you wanted something,” belhie grumbles good-naturedly as he pulls himself out of bed. “fine, but only if i get payment of my own. don’t you think a kiss should be enough?” his eyes slant devilishly. “at least to start.”
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➳ barbatos smirks. “i didn’t know my food was that good.” “are you kidding me?” you reply, grabbing another mini-cupcake. “these are so freaking good. barbatos, if you promised to bake for me every day i’d marry you in a heartbeat.” this gets a rare true smile out of him, one complete with crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “don’t let anyone else hear you saying that,” he warns, “or else you’re going to have a bunch of wannabe-bakers messing up the kitchen at the house of lamentation, and is that something you really want to deal with?”
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➳ luke pumps his fist, vibrating with excitement. “i knew it! i knew it, i knew it, i knew it! of course you like me the most, especially compared to those mean demons!” wrapping his arms around your waist, he gives you a tight hug, looking up at you affectionately. “you’re my favorite too, mc! besides simeon of course, but no one will ever beat him.” you laugh, ruffling his hair, and even though it’s mean of you to think you’re sure if he were a puppy his tail would be wagging a million times a minute. “well, it is simeon so i suppose that’s fine.”
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➳ raphael blinks uncomprehendingly. “me? i’m your favorite? but, we haven’t even known one another for that long and you seem so close with the brothers!” before he can fully spiral, you smile, knocking against his shoulder. “and? i really like you. you’re kind, smart, genuine, and a good mediator. why wouldn’t you be my favorite?” you leave then, but for the rest of the day note the small, bashful smile he wears, and the way he can’t make eye-contact for more than a few seconds at a time without looking away, ears turning the slightest bit red.
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leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
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granddaughterogg · 1 month
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König fluff. Also, mentions of gore. But you know, it's par the course with him.
As if an angel pissed on your head. That's how your kindness and affection feels to König. Unbelievable stroke of unearned luck.
König is the type of guy who will break enemies' backs on his knee like they're made of matchsticks.
Yet when the squad returns to the base and he sees you, his Absolutely Non-Obvious Crush, lounging around the helipad, smiling and waving at the boys - he gets all Nervous under that filthy sniper hood.
"Yo, you won't believe what the big guy did today!" cries out one of your teammates, patting the giant on the back. Lower part of said back, more like it. There isn't anyone on base who could actually reach the top part without standing on their toes.
"He went through five of them in a row, no knife, no nothing, just his bare hands - "
You meet König's tired grey eyes. In passing, because then he looks away, his hidden face suddenly burning.
"It was nothing special..." He mumbles, thick accent lending its jaggedness to his unsure words.
"Nothing special?! He took one of them by the head, smacked it on the concrete and it burst like a melon! Blood was everywhere!!!" That other guy gushes in the background. König winces.
"Hey, I'm sure you did great", you say gently, undeterred by being presented with this mouthwatering visual. "You hungry? Come on, judging by the smells around the cantine, they actually cooked something good for us tonight."
"...Ja, I'm starving."
He wants to say so much more. That he's happy to survive another day of this senseless carnage. To return to this base, which is the only kind of home he's ever known. To return to you.
You know who he is - or rather, what he is - and yet you still wait for him on the tarmac every time. You still greet him like he actually did something worth praising.
His late father used to have a saying: "As if an angel pissed on your head." That's how your kindness and affection feels to König. Unbelievable stroke of unearned luck.
If he knew how to pray, he'd be on his knees every night, thanking powers that be for this miracle.
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