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#why was soup mentioned so much
petitprincess1 · 7 months
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Stede, concerned bbg-ing: What happened to Ed? Where is he? Is he okay?
Everyone:
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beesechurgerzz · 1 year
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glass half full, glass half empty
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asteralien · 2 months
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misophonia kicking my ass today breaking benjamin save me. breaking benjamin. save me breaking benjamin
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Update on my mental health testing I’ve been doing since I finally got my diagnosis. I was not diagnosed with adhd or ocd like I thought I’d be. Apparently there is a disorder for inattentiveness due to screen time that I’m diagnosed with but was told that doesn’t cover all of my issues. And then I was told that I’d need some more testing to prove this but the psychologist testing me thinks that I just have too high of an iq and am simply bored. Catch me making a list of symptoms now both good and bad
#my iq is just too high. if that’s it I swear I’m gonna lose it. I’m bored?? that’s my problem??? everything’s too easy???#yeah so I get an iq test next fall#she’s like I think that would cover a lot of things! and also why you’re able to be doing relatively ok in life#like girl I’m suffering out here#anyways. my tests all mostly asked about what I struggled with which is mostly just. no motivation procrastination#but my day to day life?? includes obsessing over the things I love checking in online like clockwork and definitely obsessing over my things#little witch single handedly is shaping huge parts of my life bc I love it so much and definitely not a normal amount#like. I’m taking odd classes I would have never taken moving even more cross country in a year to do voice acting and just like#dedicating tons and tons of time to just. interacting with people who love the show as much as I do as well as making my friends watch it#i am by no means upset with my diagnosis my psychologist was like this is the thought you need lots more testing tho#with an additional hey I put in ur results that I’ll give to the school that u clearly need help and to get you in for more testing#also she did mention that if I wanted to totally rule out the screen time thing I’d probably have to do like a complete detox for 60 days#which is certainly not feasible for school I have to take digital notes or else I will fail classes but also#quite frankly I’d die. like my mental health would speed run itself so far down I would simply die#so! i certainly will not allow that to happen bc I’m not interesting in seeing how hot glued my brain is together via the internet#probably very. but yeah essentially I have gained nothing except my time on the waitlist is up#¯\_(ツ)_/¯#soup talks
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
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👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!
like dad does
aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3
you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.
likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.
but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.
"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."
"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"
"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"
he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.
"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"
"a meeting."
your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"
jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."
his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.
"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."
your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"
he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.
"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."
"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.
"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."
you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.
it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.
and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.
you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.
"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.
"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"
"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."
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tyunniez · 2 months
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converse high... bttm male reader
!!.. this has to be my worst work yet,, uhh rough sex, creampie, kinda vanilla ngl, not proofread idfk also bts ref borahae 💜
you jumped around in excitement to see one of your favorite group is finally going on tour! and they're coming to your city!
you immediately rushed to check the tickets, choosing the vip standing seat. " wait, how much money do I have left? " you stopped yourself before making a bad decision.
you looked at your bank account and almost passed out. you're broke as hell.
" why the hell am I so broke? " you questioned yourself, trying to find a genuine reason.
you scanned throughout your room till your eyes landed on your closet. " ah. that's why. "
multiple articles of clothing brimmed your closet causing it to overfill, making you slightly grimace at how your clothing rail was holding on for its dear life.
you recently went on another shopping haul after seeing your favorite idol adorning a new collection that was released by your favorite fashion brand.
you just had to get it.
yeah, maybe you had a bit of a spending problem..
your parents have spoiled you since birth because you're their one and only child. no, you weren't wealthy. you had to take on jobs multiple times, but hey hard work pays off!
you were currently on your break, and you intended to spend it going shopping till you went broke but unfortunately, due to you blowing your money to buy another vip standing ticket, that money mysteriously vanished.
" hmm.. is there any job I can do right now? " you rolled around in bed while scrolling through your phone, trying to find any quick gag you could do to earn some cash.
you ended up throwing your phone to the wall, groaning aloud when you could find none.
" i'm so lazy! not to mention my piles of assignments... " you sighed to yourself, opting to go downstairs instead to eat your sorrows away.
you were greeted by both of your parents downstairs, your mom already getting started on making lunch. " oh dear, what's wrong? you look stressed. "
you go to stand beside her, washing your hands in the process to help her cook. " I'm looking for a job to buy a ticket for a concert. my fav group is coming here you know! " you complained to your mom.
you grab the onion and began slicing it, shedding a few tears meanwhile. your mom thinks to herself, turning to you with an idea.
" you know our neighbor is actually looking for someone to babysit her kid. the pay is quite good since her kid is quite.. naughty. " you stared at the soup you were stirring and hummed.
" i can send you the details if you're interested, dear. " you nodded and decided to see how much would the pay be, who knows it might be enough.
a bonus is the kid has a total hottie as her brother!
you took one look at the pay and were sold immediately. you did the math and doing this for the amount of time needed will be more than enough.
i mean, babysitting can't be that hard, right?
⊹₊⋆
you sighed nervously as you finally approached the front door, your tote bag on your shoulder with everything you needed inside. you knocked on the door, anxiously waiting for the mom to greet you.
instead, you were greeted by someone else. " you the new babysitter? "
you stuttered, brain short-circuiting. instead of answering, you stared at the man in front of you.
the red-haired cocked his head to the side, waiting for you to answer with a raised brow. " hello? you there? " he asked in an annoyed tone.
" oh, oh yeah sorry. y-yeah, i'm the new babysitter. " you gripped the strap of your tote bag, trying your best to maintain eye contact with the man in front of you.
he hummed and opened the door wider for you to come in. you excused yourself and stepped into the house.
you walked up to ms. moore to greet her but before you could say anything she rushed towards you, her bag already in her hand.
" oh yn dear! i was just about to leave! thank god you're here. so there's money on the counter in case maya wants anything to eat. you can ask my son for any help. i'll be back before one so i hope you can withstand.. "
before you could ask any questions, she already rushed her way out towards the door. " jason, you better help the babysitter this time! thank you again and i'll see you when i get back, dear! "
with a slam of the door, she was gone.
you stood there, trying to process the information she just dumped on you. in your shocked state, jason gave you a pat on the shoulder. " she always does that. good luck dealing with that devil. ", was all he said before leaving you alone.
" maya, go easy on him! " he shouted upstairs.
you turned to the kid staring at you from the couch, a little concerned about what he just said. you've dealt with kids before, this will be easy.
⊹₊⋆
god, you regretted even thinking that.
there was a reason why babysitters kept dropping out like flies. this kid might as well come straight from hell!
you let out a long sigh as you crashed onto the sofa. you finally managed to put maya to sleep. though you couldn't really relax, still scared she might pull something with you thinking she was asleep.
" don't worry she's asleep. " you looked to the side to see jason slipping next to you on the couch, remote in his hand as he scrolled through various movies.
you let out another sigh, leaning your head back against the headrest and closing your eyes. you crossed your legs over one another, inspecting your slightly dirty converse high.
you peered over next to you, silently admiring jason.
you observed how his grown-out wolf cut, his red-haired that was now washed out is slightly messy, making it look like he just rolled out of bed.
your eyes were especially glued to his piercings. from his industrial to his snake bite, god he has so much.
you were more so drawn to his lips, that you could see his tongue-piercing. he purposely toyed with it, flicking his tongue out to tease you.
he licked his lips ever so slowly, his pink tongue grazing over his lower lip, not forgetting to graze over his snake bite. you gulped and looked away to try to get your mind on something else.
you didn't want to pop a boner in someone else's house!
" had enough already? " his sultry voice suddenly asked. you whipped your neck to look at him, eyes wide like a deer caught in a headlight, did he catch me staring..?
you cleared your throat and grabbed a nearby pillow to try to cover your growing hard-on.
" w-what're you talking about? " you glued your eyes towards the tv, trying to seem as unbothered as you can, thou the stuttering clearly gave it away..
jason rolled his eyes and discarded the pillow you were clinging onto, " oh come on, don't play dumb now. "
he pinned you down on the couch, caging you in leaving you no choice but to look at him.
" don't tell me you didn't notice at all.. "
you tried your best to look at him in the eyes, trying to figure out what he was talking about. well, he was really touchy.. his hands always found their way to touch you no matter.
he always knows just where and when to linger his touches to make you slightly flustered, the way he held your waist earlier still not leaving your eyes.
he also never took his eyes off of you ever since you stepped into his house. his eyes always trailing over to wherever you are, observing whatever the hell you are doing.
your cheeks got redder as you turned your head to the side, trying to hide from his gaze. " see i know you were a smart boy, now how far are you willing to go, bunny? "
you clasped your hand over your mouth, eyes rolling back to the back of your head. this is all too lewd!
you peeked down to look at him and the view below you was breathtaking.
jason's messy hair was now slicked back with his sweat, his big hands holding your legs open as his tongue worked its way on your dick. you could feel his tongue piercing along it, the added sensation making your thigh quiver.
you slowly released your hold on your own mouth, breath shaky. " jason, i-i'm close.. " your meal voice was shaky from the amount of pleasure you were experiencing.
he hummed and just continued to suck you, his hand now fondling your balls, massaging them as if to coax you to release.
you gripped the bedsheet below you, the warmth of his mouth mixed with the occasional cold feeling of his piercing was driving you over the edge. with a loud moan, you finally released in his mouth, eyes closing in bliss.
jason swallowed it all, making sure not to leave any drop behind. you didn't know whether to feel grossed out by it or not.
" ready to move on now bunny? " jason asked you while grabbing a bottle of lube, squirting a glob of it on his fingers. you silently nodded and watched as he squirted another glob on your hole.
" cold.. " you whined at him, feeling the chilliness of the lube. " don't worry, i'll warm you right up bunny. " he smiled.
he first inserted one finger into you slowly, letting you get used to the feeling. he began slowly moving it, occasionally grazing over that spot that made you see stars.
he then inserted another and another, steadily picking up his pace and getting more rougher as time went on. your eyes shoot back open as you kept your lips as tight as you could.
you were close and jason seemed to know this too.
before you could reach your climax, he swiftly pulled his fingers out. you looked up at him in confusion, dumbfounded as to why he stopped. " w-why'd you stopped? "
he took off his boxer, tossing it somewhere else. " don't tell me you were gonna cum just from that. the real fun begins now, bunny "
you watched as jason stroked his own dick, pouring lube on it. he was big. maybe too big for you. " are you sure it'll fit.. " you asked him while your eyes still trained on it.
" don't worry.. " he aligned himself with your hole, " i'll make it fit. "
with that, he shoved himself into you, the student action made you let out a loud moan. your eyes instantly teared up from the sudden stretch. you bit your lips to make sure no other noise escaped from you.
he was so big and you felt so.. full. his tip perfectly kissed your prostate, almost as if you were molded just for him.
" look at you taking it so well.. i knew i should've stuffed you full the moment i saw you. "
you stifled another incoming moan. your hands both covered your face, trying to hide your flushed face. two hands suddenly held onto your wrist, effectively prying your hands off of your face.
" don't hide this gorgeous face from me now. "
his own fingers intertwined with your own as he pounded into you roughly, going fast and aggressive from the start. a string of moans left your lips, your voice shaky due to how fast he was.
soon, one of his hands sneaked its way onto your thigh, hoisting it up. you almost screamed from how much deeper he was inside you. you didn't think it was even possible.
" jasonn, i'm near.. " you whined. your own dick bounced and twitched begging for release. " i'm close too, bunny.. cum with me, yeah? "
you nodded while jason held onto your ankles, his fingers digging into the fabric of your converse high. he somehow began speeding up, chasing his own climax.
you closed your mouth with your own hand, knowing damn well your moans were echoing throughout the house already.
with no warning whatsoever, you felt the warm liquid soon filling your inside, dropplings of it escaping from your hole. the feeling of being filled with jason's thick cock mixed with his own cum running down your ass caused you to also release.
you shut your eyes as your release painted your stomach white, some of it landing on jason's.
after a few moments of silence, he then let go of your ankles, slowly pulling out. you winced at the feeling of emptiness. you rolled to the side, jason also crawling next to you.
you soon almost lull yourself to sleep before remembering that tomorrow you have to babysit maya. oh god maya. you prayed she was sleeping like a baby and didn't hear anything.
" shit.. i honestly can't feel my legs and i still have to babysit maya tomorrow... " you groaned out loud next to him, trying to brainstorm an idea on how to babysit that devil in your current state.
jason only laughed next to you. talking about how he'll figure out a way to deal with her tomorrow. you hope he will since you can't miss the pay...
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goldenhypen · 1 month
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. ⊹ just like this ˚ ͎ 。
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syn. taking care of jake when he gets sick, all because you refused to bring a jacket.
pair. jake x reader · wc. 1k · contains. fluff, catching a cold, mentions of food/drink
a/n. ^^ jake has the prettiest smile- nearly forgot this was just sitting in my drafts waiting to see the light of day- so now hopefully at least someone can enjoy it :’>
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“damn, as much as i love to kiss you, your lips are freezing,” jake explained after he pulled away with hints of worry in his voice. “oh my, your hands are cold too. i told you you should’ve brought a jacket. you’re freezing.”
it had only been a few seconds but somehow, your lips were already missing the warmth of his own on yours.
“n-no”—stupid stutter—you denied through chattering teeth as the rest of your body began to shiver.
“really,” he said in more of a challenging tone through a chuckle, rather than a question, as he perked up a brow.
he already shrugged off most of his own jacket before you could even think of protesting, and within approximately three seconds, his coat was already hung over your shoulders, sheltering you from the chilling breeze, immediately feeling warmth shoot throughout your body.
“better?” he smirked.
“yes,” you half-guiltily admitted. “you’re going to get sick though.”
the frown on your face didn’t leave even as his next words left his throat, “well, better me than you.”
“no, jake,” you said as your pout grew longer.
“you know why?”
“hm?”
he paused as a smirk travelled to his lips before answering, “because then i’ll get to have you as my caretaker.”
“pfft—please. no, you're not. i’m telling you to take your jacket back, but you’re not letting me give it back to you. so that would be your fault.”
“ouch, someone is really eager to not take care of their boyfriend. okay, i see how it is,” he said with a dramatic frown.
you looked at him as you shook your head and rolled your eyes, “jake, no, i—”
“it’s fine! still better me than you though,” he said —if it was even possible—with more drama in his tone than before as he began to walk away.
you ran to catch up with him and took his still warm hand in both of yours as you looked into his eyes, but being the petty boy he was, who liked playing these silly games, he only continued walking, gaze straight ahead, refusing to look in your direction.
the rest of your date went on, with him eventually forgetting how he had planned on staying dramatic for as long as he could, and he made sure his jacket wasn’t let off your shoulders until you both got home, an immediate rush of warm air filling your bodies. momentarily, you took in the relaxing sensation, closing your eyes.
“want some hot cocoa?” jake asked, whipping you back to reality.
you gave him a small smile, followed by a satisfied nod at the idea. you could already feel the hot beverage flowing down your throat, warming up your insides.
you followed jake to the kitchen. and that was when you heard a sneeze just a few feet ahead.
“jake…”
he cleared his throat. “what? it was just a sneeze.”
“if you’re sick—”
“i’m alright. don’t worry.”
sceptical, you nodded.
later as you two cuddled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, hands wrapped around a nice cup of hot cocoa, jake furrowed his brows. “why is it so cold in here?”
you turned your head to face him with a questioning look. “i’m not cold.”
“it’s so cold.”
“jake, love, i think it’s just you.”
he shivered, putting his mug down before drowning himself under the covers. “cold.”
you hugged him under the ocean of blanket before he said, “i think i’ve got chills.”
you sighed sadly, “and who said they weren’t sick, hm?”
he huffed out a long puff of air from his cheeks. “i don’t feel good, y/n.”
you sighed again softly, feeling bad for the boy. “okay, stay here and rest. i’ll go make you some soup.”
you let go of his already weak and exhausted form before standing up, beginning to make your way toward the kitchen as you heard a “thanks, i love you!”
⎯ ❤︎ ⎯
“okay, i’m back with soup.” you placed it on the table in front of him. “it’s hot, be careful.”
“thanks, love.”
you watched as he took his first few spoonfuls, your hand reached behind his head as you ran it up and down his back soothingly.
after a moment of silence as he drank his soup, a sudden eruption of giggles filled the room.
“what’s wrong?” you asked, subconsciously beginning to laugh with him.
“i love being sick,” he said, turning to you with a cheeky grin.
“i’m sorry, you what?” you laughed, imagining you must’ve heard it wrong.
“i like being sick.”
“what? why?” you asked at his ridiculous statement.
“because i always get to have you take care of me,” he smirked, not so cheeky this time but more happy than anything.
“i—” was all you managed to push out, speechless.
“told you you’d take care of me,” he then said proudly victorious, chin held high. “i know you well enough to know how down bad you are for me, y/n.”
you scoffed in disbelief, “oh, please. you are unbelievable.”
“i might be unbelievable, but i’m not wrong,” he continued playfully.
“okay, mr. smarty pants. you win. i do love you, and what about it?”
he giggled, coming closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.
no matter how long you two had been together, him doing this exact form of physical touch never failed to make everything in your body go weak, except your heart, its pace beating so fast, you were almost afraid it would leap out of your chest any minute.
“i love you more,” he breathed into your neck with a smile.
you wrapped your arms around him before starting, “okay, you big baby,” you tapped your hand in a repeating motion on his back, “i think you should get some sleep now. your body needs it.”
you felt as he nodded into your neck. “mhm. just like this.” he said, referring to the way you were tangled in each others arms, bodies sharing warmth, and breaths moving in sync. he closed his eyes. “this is exactly what i need to feel better.”
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a/n. ahhh yall pls lmk if you liked this cuz idk if it’s me just second guessing myself but im feeling quite unsure about this one 🫠 and as always, thanks for reading <33
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floatyflowers · 1 month
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Dark!House of The Dragon Men x Reader
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You tried to balance your relationship with the greens and blacks despite being Rhaenyra's daughter.
And it worked.
With Aegon II Targaryen
Both of you are close in age, as you are older then Jace.
Aegon found himself falling for you, due to many factors, not only because you are beautiful.
You are kind, intelligent, and most importantly YOU LISTEN to him.
Both of you spend too much time together with or without your mothers knowledge.
The only time he stood up to his mother is when she spoke about you in a horrid manner, calling you a bastard.
"If you dare speak about her like that ever again, I will go and inform father!"
He later on becomes your betrothed by Viserys' order to unite the house.
With Aemond Targaryen
You never mocked him like his brother and your siblings.
In fact, you became his friend and shared his interest in reading books.
The only one in house Targaryen that he felt connected to is you.
Sometimes you would sneak into his chamber in the middle of the night though the hidden passages to just chat.
So, it's hard for your Targaryen uncle not to fall for you, he even looked past your legitimacy.
You literally stood by his side when Luke took his eye and comforted him.
But hearing your engagement to his older brother made his blood boil, and he took an oath to steal you away.
Especially after claiming Vhagar, he realized he now has the ability to burn down anyone who he finds as a threat to his affection towards you.
"Don't worry, I will protect you, dear niece"
With Jacearys Velaryon
He respects and loves you dearly, you are his role model.
That is why he started to bully Aemond when he saw you pay attention to the silver haired Targaryen more than him.
When puberty hit him, he began to slowly develop feelings for you.
And what increased those feelings is that he heard his mother mention something about marrying you to him.
But all his dreams came crashing down when Viserys' announced that you would wed Aegon.
And when you actually did marry Aegon, and after years where Viserys' held a feast, Jace tried to convince you to return to Dragonstone with him.
The night he got in a fight with Aegon he let out all his fury, even if he promised to behave.
"Annual your marriage to him and marry me instead"
With Ser Criston Cole (Platonic)
He is your biological father.
And he knows that, so unlike his bad treatment towards your mother and siblings, he treated you kindly.
At the age of ten he revealed to you that he is your real father.
At first you didn't believe him, but as you grew older you did begin to realize the truth.
Instead of avoiding him, you decided to be friendly and call him 'father' when you both are alone.
One time, one of the servants accidentally spilled soup on you.
The next day that servant was found dead.
"I'm your father before being the Queen's sworn sword"
With Gwayne Hightower
He flirted with you before your wedding not realizing that you are his nephew's bride.
Gwayne hates Rhaenyra, but the thought of you being her daughter left him in disbelief.
You are nothing like your mother.
Everything about you scream honor, virtue and kindness.
Gwayne even tried to convince you to runaway before it's too late.
"You still have time to not marry Aegon"
Indeed, it's awful to say that about his nephew.
But he cares about your well-being more than Aegon's happiness.
And it really shows during the war.
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starreo · 4 months
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multi-character drabble.
includes cheating, alcohol consumption, adult themes so, mdni.
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you don't understand why he's dating your best friend. you're so much better than her. you make him a wholesome breakfast when she has to rush to see a friend, you drive him home when he gets drunk, crying about how he's probably never going to find anyone who loves him as much as he loves them, and you bring him hot soup when he wakes up with a hangover.
when he comes over to see her and she suddenly has to see a friend of hers, refusing to mention the name when you ask, you keep him company...ordering takeout, pouring drinks, and talking for hours, before she comes back, a little too happy, starting to be handsy as she sits on his lap, "c'mon, baby, wan' you so bad" his slightly conflicted eyes stare at your disappointed ones for a minute before taking her to bed, leaving you alone on the couch.
on his birthday, which his lovely girlfriend almost forgets about, you gift him that video game he'd been wanting for so long...you, stand in the long line in the heat to get your hands on it before it sells out. "heard you talking about it last month, so i thought it'll be a good gift for your birthday."
and it was. which is why, to thank you, he invited you over to his place, something about wanting to teach you how to play it...but you didn't care much about that, did you?
you'd gotten yourself a bikini wax the day before, so you opted for a manicure and pedicure right now, choosing the color red to paint on your nails. that was his favorite. he'd told you that when he saw you in your body-hugging, red tube dress at his birthday party. "seeing you in that color is...dangerous...makes me wanna do things i shouldn't..."
so you weren't delusional...sure, you weren't a good best friend, but she didn't deserve him...he was so sweet, so kind, so hot, so perfect, and that bitch, she cheated on him, multiple times, laughing as she told you about it.
"t-thank you-fuck..." he whispered, his cold breath hit your cunt, planting a quick kiss on your ankle, as his fingers spread your sticky cum across your folds, making a mess before he plopped them in his mouth, sucking your slick off...he looked into your teary eyes, taking his fingers out and leaning forward to kiss you, letting you taste yourself.
as he distracted you with his kiss, his cock easily slipping inside of your slippery entrance, smiling as you gasped into the kiss. so tight. so warm. so perfect. "y'er s-so good, y/n...so good to m-me, fuck i think i'm in love with you-"
eren jaeger, nagi, gojo satoru, reo, suna rintarou, hiori, isagi yoichi, rin, chifuyu matsuno. + your favs <3
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© starreo 2023. do not copy, translate or repost .
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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What about monster!konig with a very cuddly and sleepy mate after a trip to the local human vet?
What is the human vet office like? Are they mostly run by monsters with a few humans to help the pets? 🍙
Human vets are mostly monsters who are closer to the humans in anatomy and form - humans are complicated, after all, and even though most of the illnesses can be forgotten once a human is properly mated and filled by their monster(the regenerative factor, for example, prevents a lot of the terminal illnesses), but things like broken bones or viruses are still as prevalent. You caught the flu ( usually it's not even that serious, you're a bit feverish and sleepy, yes, but if it was the normal situation, you wouldn't even consider going to the doctor. A couple of off-list pills and lots of tea will do the trick...well, did I mention that Konig is a fucking panicking menace? He was terrified when he got in your nest, pushed you in the hug...and felt how unnaturally warm you were. When you started coughing, he fucking jumped, his tentacles shaking with panic. Something is wrong, his human is wrong!! If your regenerative factor can't help you with the illness, you must be dying, his mate is dying, he needs to- Shit, he even forgot that he is supposed to hate you. before anyone could even begin to ask questions, he took you to the vet, to the nice human nurses who gently handled you with as much care as possible, and the monster veterinarian slowly and gently explained to Konig that, fortunately, it's just a slight fewer and you will be better in a week. No, there aren't any operations needed and no, you're not dying, you just need lots of water, warm tea, and some easy pills so you can rest and heal. Konig is the type to get three different opinions on why his wife's temperature is 37'5, and you're too sleepy and tired to even say anything! He is warm, but his tentacles are way too cold for you - so whenever you're feeling too feverish, you're using his slimy tendrils to cool you down, and when you're getting too cold, you wrap your hands around his midriff like a koala and nuzzle your face in his tummy. Konig is bringing you every type of food possible, making the base cooks prepare something nice and classic(poor recruits are hunting chickens for the soup) and even makes you tea by himself! No one is dumb enough to question why colonel fusses so much about his pet, and even you don't really remember lots of his gentleness because of your condition, you just cling to comfortable body(
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ryo-maybe · 2 years
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can u explain why AI art is bad without fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking lol
I'm going to answer in good faith, even though the tone you're using sounds like you're harboring anything but. The issue with AI art isn't specifically inherent to the tools used to produce it, because, ultimately, a tool is merely that: something devoid of will which, in the hands of a human, can produce a specific outcome. It's the human element that taints what we could otherwise enjoy for the unquestioningly fascinating topic that is AI art and, by extension, AI software as a whole.
Now, the problem isn't people, period, but the kind of people that are responsible for giving AI the bad rep it's been getting, along with the intent that goes into both the development of AI tools and the things produced by dint of said tools. I'm talking about the tech bros happily rubbing their hands, waiting to provide business moguls with a brand new means to commodify and mass-produce what artists stake their entire livelihoods upon, because when you have enough zeroes lined up in your bank account, your eyes are utterly blinded to the soul and personality that human beings put into their handiwork, and which a machine won't ever be able to reproduce no matter how much stolen art you feed it. Oh yeah, by the way, that's how AI art tools have been making the rounds: by chewing on thousands upon thousands of stolen pictures made by actual people so that they may learn how to ape someone's style and spit out absolutely soulless derivatives, while the original authors don't see a lick of recognition or monetary retribution for any of it. Do I need to tell you why stealing and parading someone else's art as your own is a terrible, vile thing to do?
But sure, you did ask me to refrain from "fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking", which I guess I've already done. So since you'd rather I skipped straight to the point in a concise manner, lemme offer some quick examples of why the culture surrounding AI art has already developed into one of the most abysmally disappointing displays of how greed and an utter lack of human decency can ruin something objectively brimming with possibilities:
Less than a week after the sudden death of Korean artist Kim Jung-gi, someone trained an AI model to mimic his artstyle, having the audacity of asking for credits if anyone wished to use it. I sincerely hope I don't have to explain to you why this is a ghoulish example of the kind of tone-deafness sported by tech bros who buy wholesale into the AI art craze.
A piece of AI art was submitted to an art contest and won. The "artist"'s work amounted to little more than picking a series of prompts and letting the machine do the work. It's as much art as googling a smattering of terms and making a collage of pictures taken from Pinterest (and even then, you would have put more work into it than this person did). That they won at all says a whole damn lot about how abysmal the respect given to artists - real artists - nowadays is.
There are a multitude of people out there already selling prints of AI-generated art. I could link some of them here, but honestly, type "ai art prints" on a search engine and you'll get inundated by them. I've seen and personally know artists who have had to undersell their works because commissions were the only thin, frayed string they could hang on in hopes of making it through the week without fucking starving themselves, but here we are: any random asshole can now yell "MASSIVE BREASTS, THIN WAIST, COCKTAIL DRESS, HUGE BADONGAS" at a computer, let it mash together a trillion of other people's hard work, and print it for easy bucks that the actual authors of the basic ingredients of their insipid soup will never, ever see a dime of.
It really bothers me that you mentioned "no bootlicking". Whose fucking boots is this side of the debate supposedly tasting? That of the artists who post every day about how angry, sad and terrified they are by the prospects of what the development of AI art will entail for their livelihood and passion? What kind of gall did your mother birth you with that you have the spiteful spunk to type that word, when you've got shit like an artist who had their sketch stolen while they were drawing it on stream, then fed to an AI and posted by someone passing it off as their own art? How does that not ignite your indignation? "Bootlicking". Like anyone's tongues have been tasting leather but those of the same tech bro chodes who kept trying oh so hard to convince us NFTs were the future while ruining the environment to make the absolute stupidest point ever made in the history of humanity.
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hazelfoureyes · 14 days
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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania
˚₊ · »-♡→ Week 1 and Week 2
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦 (keep reading)
Alastor lets you leave the hotel! Together! For soup. Later, your plans to make Alastor lose his obsession backfire. But like, in a hot way so you’re not that mad about it. A+ for effort?
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Epilogue smut💦
「warnings/promises: smut, I once again misuse a fucking prayer in a sacrilegious way, soup, spoon feeding, Angel texts, so much cum, bondage, tentacles, just good ole fashion fucking in the radio station, not quite dubcon but Alastor doesn’t really listen, hell has twitter and lets be real it’s just normal twitter, giant Alastor, Horse Luci」
Minors DNI ♥️ 🧹lovingly
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You finally managed to leave the hotel. It was of course with Alastor at your side, microphone pressing into the small of your back like a third arm. It was as if he worried you’d just turn around and run.
He opened every door, pulled out your chair, and when your left hand shook and dropped your food he took on the task of feeding you. It was embarrassing, to say the very least. The sinners in the restaurant staring, a brave few filming or typing furiously on their phones.
You got a buzz on your own cell, a gift from Angel when he realized Alastor wouldn’t let you speak with others alone. 
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He texted a link to a post on some hell site, to a photo of you right then, at that exact moment, being spoon fed by the radio demon. You considered smashing your head into the table until you blacked out. If you got up and left would you make it back to the hotel before someone realized you weren’t a sinner? You were absolutely terrified of someone noticing you as heaven sent.
Heaven kicked? Heaven thrown. Yeah that one felt right.
“You need to eat. You can’t heal like this.” Alastor sounded concerned, but you fought the urge to care. 
He hadn’t apologized to Husk, but Husk did say Alastor seemed to avoid eye contact which was basically a gift to him. Alastor had come to your room to dress you the next day as he always did, neither of you mentioning the day before. The hall was magically pristine by the time you left.
A tiny sliver of you thought he felt embarrassed. But decades of experience told you that Mania didn’t afford embarrassment, the stricken couldn’t be truly manic if something like that was holding them back.
Maybe it had been such a shallow cut he hadn’t gotten the full punch of Mania?
Another attempt to feed yourself, slowly bringing your spoon to your mouth, “You know when I heal I am going to finish my task and leave, right?” 
An odd laugh, a non-existent tear wiped away, “Adorable. No. I promise you, that won’t happen.”
“Alastor.” You put the spoon down with a clink.
“I love when you say my name. May I offer you more reasons to hold it in your mouth?”
“Al-,” you groaned, “I can’t stay forever.”
He hummed, a show of pretending to think about what you said, “Wrong! You can. And I argue, you will.”
You tried again with the spoon, regretting soup. Your appetite had been shot for awhile and it seemed easy enough. Wrong. Again. There was a constant tremble to your hands since arriving. Perhaps experiencing pain for the first time was rattling your body so much that it couldn’t cope. “Why would I ever do that? This is literal hell.”
Alastor leaned over, taking the spoon from you with ease and bringing it to your mouth, “Because I’ll make you understand it’s where you belong. They didn’t appreciate you,” his grin widened, “Not like I do. Like I can, if you’d let me.”
Annoyed and flustered, you took the help to eat. “Thank you.” A spoonful, “How can you say that though? I’m the one and only Cupid.”
“Actually, no. You’re not. You are just the current incarnation. They’ll replace you.” 
You regretted telling him that. They could. Just replace you, that is. There was nothing stopping them. You stared into your soup, lips curling down.
“Don’t look so defeated. I’ll make you happy, for eternity.” 
Your eyes rolled. “When do you plan on starting that eternal happiness?”
You didn’t look at him when you said it, but you could see his hand slow, then become completely still. Had you wounded him?
He pivoted, “Doesn’t Cupid have wings?”
Another spoonful, “Of course.”
Alastor waited while you took a drink, determined to make you eat the entire bowl, “Where are they?”
A pause. Where were they? You hadn’t realized you couldn’t feel them. They weren’t everpresent, but their weight still sat between your shoulder blades at all times. Always. Normally. But now? 
“You don’t know? That’s troubling.” Alastor read your face with ease.
You shot him a look. Stop doing that. Stop replying to unspoken thoughts.
“Apologies.”
Another text before you could snap at him.
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You slid the phone away from Alastor, face red. “Do you think, honestly, if you’re capable of it, that I’ll ever be able to go home?”
His hand came to your neck, running over your collarbone, “For the record, I’ve never once lied to you.” You rolled your eyes, fine, okay, “With your heavenly body, even as weakened as you have been here, I’d say just a few more weeks.”
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You turned the phone face down.
“Good…that’s good. If you plan on winning me over, your countdown has started.” You pushed the soup away, appetite gone. The idea of never returning to heaven made you nauseous. He slid it back to you, face stern despite the smile he wore.
The walk home was quiet, your stomach full of unwanted soup.
No, not home. The hotel. 
He usually spoke a lot, clearly loving the sound of his own voice. His hand replaced the staff, settled on your back as he guided you. You could feel the warmth through your clothes. How could he be so hot and not be sweating? Another sinner thing?
The thought hadn’t left you by the time you came into view of the hotel gates. Maybe you had been replaced. How would you know? Maybe that was why your wings were gone. Surely there was some way to communicate from hell.
You found Lucifer as soon as you returned, unbothered by Alastor’s presence, “I need to speak to heaven.” 
Alastor was saying something but you had gotten quite good at tuning him out. Lucifer snapped back, the men quickly devolving into arguing again.
“Lucifer.” You said it with your chest. 
His apple topped cane whirled, a golden circle appearing with a crystal clear image of heaven’s glowing gates through its center.
A loud noise erupted behind you, a high pitched static wail, familiar tentacles flailed and a long shadow of a growing Alastor stretched across the wall. His back was bent into the lobby ceiling, perhaps three stories tall now.
The sounds of magic popping as Lucifer shapeshifted accented the sounds of horror with that of whimsy. You approached the portal, those black tendrils slithering around your ankles but you easily slipped out of them as their owner's energy was pulled to full demon Lucifer slamming into him.
Almost, you could see it. 
A monstrously large hand came down, shaking the hotel and knocking various objects off their perches in the lobby. Charlie and Vaggie, someone else you’d come to enjoy the company of, flew down the stairs.
The common area was filled with the sounds of yelling and breaking glass. You crawled over his hand as Alastor’s fingers curled around your body gingerly. He tried to pull you from the gateway but while he slowed, Lucifer now a flying horse kicking him in the face, your outstretched hand strained to enter the portal.
Your fingers grazed the doorway, the air around the lobby fizzing and warping as a desperate screech tore from Alastor’s wide and impossibly thin chest. The grip tightened around you. A static whine threatened to pop your eardrums.
As your fingertips pressed past the ring, they stopped. Something impenetrable and unseen between you and heaven. 
Alastor must have noticed it too, his grip loosening as you clamored on hand and knees to the portal. Your palm ran over the doorway, searching for a hole or seam to rip. Just under your skin was your home, bright and clean and painless. A tiny ‘no’ fell from your lips, smacking at the barrier with your open hand.
Alastor returned to his normal, still terrifying, height. Lucifer came forward, their fight losing motivation, his small hand on your shoulder as you sat on the hotel lobby floor. He closed the portal and apologized, “Sorry kid. Let’s try again when you finish that task, okay?”
Alastor’s arms went under your back and knees and lifted you off the ground. You didn’t resist or argue. Your eyes were unfocused, vision blurry with tears, as you were carried past the others. Vaggie looked ashamed, which was odd given she had more character than half the archangels could muster together between them.
There existed permissions for who could enter the heavenly realm, a list meticulously kept. They’d removed you from that roster. They’d locked the doors behind you.
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You felt good. The final week of your first, and hopefully last, month in hell was marked with taking off your sling for the first time.
A good three day wallow in a metaphorical cave helped you emerge with renewed vigor. Of course they locked the gates behind you, otherwise you’d just go home. That made sense. That made sense.
That had to make sense. 
Deciding to take a risk and attempt to expedite your homecoming, you and Angel made plans. Like a teenager in a party movie you snuck out of the hotel when Alastor was asleep. Well, so you assumed. You weren’t really sure what he did behind closed doors.
Angel brought you somewhere he felt people would be receptive to discussing love and talking to angelic beings, and admittedly also very high. 
Sling off but still being as gentle as you could, you leaned across the small standing-only table to talk-shout with a rather cute aquatic demon. An eel? Or maybe some kind of water-fond lizard? It didn’t matter, his glasses were cute, both of you a little drunk,  and you quite good at saying the right things.
And all of the right things were said, and you felt maybe if nothing else you’d enjoy your first demonic lay, when the power shut off.
Everyone filed out, bummed and bothered to find most of the neighborhood shrouded in darkness.
Angel tapped your shoulder and pointed up the hill to the hotel, radio station a glow with a red light, “Ya know, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Nothing to do but to stare, you stayed quiet and angry while he flagged down a taxi knowing the trip would be fast without traffic lights, “Guess Daddy Dead Eyes is calling you back.” 
Anger grew and grew in your chest as you were charioted home.
Jesus, to the hotel. Stop doing that.
You burst into the radio station tower, Alastor barely reacting. Until, that is, you marched up to his desk.
Pinned before you could react, his body pressing into yours as your ass ran up onto the desk.
“Sneaking out like a child?” His voice was low, soft, unnatural. “Why do you intentionally torment me?” 
 “I have done,” you tried to move but only succeeded in rubbing your stomach against his crotch, “no such thing. You’re just possessed.”
He responded by pressing forward, no accident, as his eyes narrowed on you, “Correct. I am a man possessed.” When he rolled himself into you, an alcohol primed groan escaped your mouth. 
“I thought you didn’t care about those things,” your eyes flashed to his lap pushing into you and then back to his glare.
“You’re my exception that proves the rule. If you’re so desperate for attention there’s no need to leave the hotel to find it.” His smile was poisoned by the simmering anger in his eyes, “Dear.”
It was the alcohol and annoyance at losing a chance with glasses-man, Jake or Jark or something not worth a scrabble move, that made you sneer a reply, “Not yours. I am a divine creature, demon. Your body would just filthy me.” Nose up, feeling absolutely better than him in every sense, you pushed him off and left. 
That was easy. Wow. 
Proud of yourself, you made it to the elevator before you realized— illusions. Perhaps his illusion was the idea sex with you was worth the effort, more so than others. He said it himself before, he didn’t care for such things. Perhaps if you could show him it was as boring and unattractive as sex with anyone else could be, maybe you could shatter his mania with disappointment.
You pulled a u-turn and heel-toed right back into his station. Giving him no time to react this time, you climbed onto his chair and straddled him, “On second thought, try your worst. Let’s get it out of your system and move on.” You ground your hips down. He only smiled up at you, amused. Taking his hands you set them on your waist, giving him permission to handle you, “Claim me. Make everyone know I’m yours.” He didn’t move. You were starting to feel embarrassed, had he goaded you just to make you look stupid? He would.  But your kind invented the tension before sex between enemies, “If you can.”
That did it. His hair visibly stood on end, “It is not a matter of ability. It’s about-”
“If you can’t, that’s fine. No need to start lying to me now. But don’t say I never gave you the opportunity.” You smirked, hoping he enjoyed a taste of his own sardonic medicine, and lifted yourself off of him.
His hands came to life on your hips, helping you rise and then flipping you onto your stomach. Your arms pushed radio transmitters and various old timey fuckery away to make room for yourself.
Those talons slipped up the center of your bottoms and crooked into your underwear. Long and strong, his fingers felt you. “Is this a perk of a heavenly body or is this,” two fingers dipped into your already wet and relaxed entrance, “all for me?”
You fought the urge to respond with anything other than malice, “Don’t flatter yourself.”
In heaven no one needs preparation, no one needs lube or required stretching to keep things whole and fun. You would love to say that quality followed you down, but unfortunately, like perfect health and angelic wings, it had not. 
You decided to chalk it up to the alcohol. Always an easy excuse to offer yourself.
Alastor’s hands pulled away and up, finding the place just above the Rosie’s Emporium clothing tag and ripping the bottoms and underwear clean in half.
You bit into your hand to keep your excited shriek to yourself but unfortunately couldn’t stop your legs kicking up. His laugh echoed off the many windows. 
Why couldn’t he be worse at this? Why couldn’t Alastor be clumsy and meek and awkward at sex? No, the menace you’d gotten almost used to was confident and commanding, you felt yourself twitching in anticipation. People have a misconception that Cupid was a chaste and wholly emotional creature, which was false. First of all, Cupids varied based on the incarnation. Just like other heavenly creatures their personality was varied and unpredictable. 
Personally, you weren’t suited for the job. If you were honest. Why couldn’t your quiver just be full of Eros and Agape? Even of those two, sexual love was more your speed. Romance was fine and lovely but perhaps you’d gotten a little jaded. 
Luckily for you, fucking Cupid was something many winners had on their afterlife bucket lists and you rarely found yourself with an empty bed.
Your attention was stolen back, Alastor’s clawed hand grabbing at the flesh of your thighs, “Oops.”
Focus. Why were you doing this again? Your system was metabolizing the alcohol now, and with the air cooling off your exposed sex, everything was awash with lust. Did you want to diminish his mania or were you just horny?
Would it really be so bad to admit you were both?
Deep breath, you remembered. Boring. Banal. The plan was to be motionless and not provide him any satisfying sounds. Don’t touch him, don’t try to push back on him, no tricks or fancy shit. The sooner he was over this you could make someone trust in love and fuck off home. 
Seconds turned to a minute, your ass in the air as Alastor’s hands pawed at your skin. You wanted to ask what the hold up was, but you didn’t want to give away how much you were needing him to just fuck you already.
“Do you miss flying?”
You looked around, were you so drunk you missed an entire chunk of conversation while thinking about how to hide thirsting for his dick?
“Yes…?” True statement.
“Allow me to help with that.”
There was a moment you half expected to be chucked out the window, but almost worse than that, you heard him seat himself in the chair again before your body was picked up and off the desk. “Alastor! I don’t-,” Hands flailing, feet moving around the best they could, you struggled against the familiar tentacles he had command over. “I do not allow it!”
Your hands batted at them fruitlessly. One came under your knees and folded them to either side of your chest before wrapping around your waist twice, a second across your chest like a seatbelt snug and secure. Had you been on the floor you could almost be mistaken for taking a deeply devout praying stance. Only your arms were free to move, the position making you open and incapable of taking back any semblance of control. 
“Alastor!” Stretching, you could almost reach the edge of his work table, but your fingers and toes curled in as you were seated on something hot and stiff. Your lips quivered, desperate to keep silent as you were pulled down onto him. Reaching back your hands found his stomach, raking your nails across the skin in need of anything to grip. 
When you heard him chuckle to himself, you knew you were already losing. Plan backfiring entirely. You pulled your hands back to your center, taking ahold of the tentacle nestled between and across your chest. 
“Heavenly Father,” his voice was quiet but sure, your eyes so wide you worried you’d get stuck making a permanent face of utter shock and despair, “bless us and these thy gifts which we receive from thy bountiful goodness, through your name, our lord.” You were lifted off his lap, Alastor’s swollen tip dragging along your unstretched walls as he said the Lord's prayer, “Amen.” Pulled back down before the second syllable even reached your ears, you cut into your bottom lip as a scream bounced around behind your teeth.
Heathen.
“I would think you of all people knew how to finish a prayer.” Alastor chided, “What will heaven say?”
If heaven knew you were being impaled midair on an overlord’s cock, they’d create a second hell for you to rule. Population of none. Except maybe some horny nuns.
As he found a pace he seemed happy with, slow and long draws out of you, you realized how fucked you were. Looking down, you could see one of his hands was settled at the base of his cock, those long fingers draped down his balls. The other hand was unseen and unfelt. 
“Alastor.” You tried to sound stern.
“Oh I doubt heaven knows my name. Not yet at least.” He sounded unbothered, almost unaffected. “Not until I’ve spirited away their little angel of love.”
You were almost insulted at how easily he could speak despite being buried so far into your wet, hot cunt. Maybe you had been spoiled in heaven, people usually so turned on by the idea of you that they were coming undone as soon as you were wrapped around them or in them in whatever way you decided.  
A broken chant of “be bored, be bored,” in your mind as Alastor hummed, that mystery clawed hand falling at your back. Biting your lip, you tried to think about anything other than how full he was making you. Did the glasses man at the club have a cock as thick as Alastor’s? Would you have been as satisfied as you were now? Every down thrust made the tuft of fur at this base press against your ass. Soft. You wanted to grind against it, the idea pulling a wanton moan out.
Fuck. Failing to distract yourself because you got distracted. It was so hard to think about anything else than your body being pushed open again and again. The blood on your lips was sweet, licking them clean before finding a new spot to bite down on. Quiet.
“Ah, are you giving me the silent treatment?”
Could this son of a bitch read minds? Could sinners read minds?!
 If you didn’t reply, that was confirmation. But if you did reply, you were breaking your goal of not talking.
“Just…,” you took a deep sigh, knowing this was going to be rough, “I’m not really feeling like making any noise.” A shrug, the best you could manage at least while bound and held aloft in the space above his lap. Pretending this was normal and boring was a feat. “I’m not a vocal person during sex. I prefer to just lie there and get serviced. Don’t mind me.”
That sounded awful. Perfect. 
“Oh? Well then, I guess I’ll not worry myself.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Less perfect. He began to hum a little tune as your body, partially upright, was now being tilted forward at a 45 degree angle from his lap. His cock was bending in you, head pressing harshly up into your walls. 
Heart beating so fast you felt a dizzy spell hit you, that renewed anticipation almost as arousing as the sensations.
His humming continued like he was reading the paper. You’d never ridden a roller coaster, but you’d seen many people do it before and this was surely the same feeling; right at the peak before the drop. When the ride operator stills you and lets you stare down at the height before you. Your stomach was flipping, excitement tinged with fear. 
You were pulled off his dick until you felt the bell of his red tip get just outside your entrance. Was he going to pull out entirely?
No. He pulled you down by way of shadows and fucked you just a couple inches into your cunt. His head was dragging out past your tight hole and smashing back in, directly hitting your g-spot. The spongy bundle of nerve endings was dented with every thrust.
You weren’t used to having your entrance stimulated so much, the skin luckily becoming slick as your own wetness was fucked out of you. 
“That feels weird, please.” How quickly you gave up. “Stop pulling out like that.”
A considerate sigh, “But you’ve gotten so wet, my dear. You’re dripping down my thighs already. I don’t think you want me to stop.”
Could you cum like this? You felt like you could, maybe if you just…you quickened your breath, faster and faster. Your stomach heaving, you felt the crescendo of pleasure. 
“On second thought!” He stopped.
Your toes wiggled, hands gripping the tentacle on your chest. Quiet. Shh. Don’t argue. Boring. Don’t care. The building orgasm waned, you felt your blood pressure lower. This really was hell. 
Alastor’s head was just sitting in you, burning hot and throbbing. You were sure you could feel his heartbeat. 
You two were locked in a standoff. Someone had to let on they were enjoying themselves; Alastor releasing pent up frustration with your attitude toward his affections, you chasing down a rare penetration-only orgasm. 
An idea struck you, a way to hopefully antagonize him and bruise his pride enough to force him into your hand (pussy), “Thank God. I think it’s almost my bedtime.”
Alastor’s smile strained, a twitch coming over his left eye. A trap. But the idea of letting you down and off of him seemed far worse than the small defeat you were offering. “Allow me to rock you to sleep then, sweetheart.”
Success! Shit! 
You reached out, the angle of your punishment allowing you to grab the edge of the table and grip. Alastor’s annoyance translated to an inhuman pace, him pulling you off entirely from his cock before bringing you back down. He was positively slipping in and out of you, your lower lips puffy and soaked around him. This degree of wetness was something you couldn’t remember feeling outside of marathon sessions. 
When your hands tightened, a shock of pain tore down your arm, a scream bringing Alastor to a sudden stop. “My collar…” Pain was apparently not a kink you enjoyed, though you briefly wondered if heaven allowed it at all. 
You couldn’t even fuck properly. You couldn’t do anything right. All you managed to do was fail. A sting to your eyes as the air hit your welling tears. Did humans feel this pain often? Your body was righted and turned, you looked down to Alastor’s face as you were brought to him. He looked so soft, usual smirk a sweet toothless smile, “I told you to keep the sling on, didn’t I?” He looked happy.
Your arms found his shoulders and your head came to his chest, “Shut up and finish already.” He didn’t release you from the binding, instead pulling the right arm under the hold of his slender tendril to keep it safe and out of the way.  His hands were both at the base of his cock while you were gently riding him. Well, “you”. He was still using his powers to manipulate your body on and off of him. Alastor’s fingers were spreading your arousal down his shaft and along his tightening balls, if you had looked at his face you’d have seen a weakened man there, furrowed brows and lust drunk eyes. But you didn’t look, trying to hide the same expression on your own features. 
Left hand free, no need to hold yourself up, you made lazy, and you hoped subtle, circles around your clit. You weren’t sure if this was a total failure or not, but you could finish and say something good came of it. You, specifically. 
Things were quiet, though. The loudest sound in the room was the wet pop coming from where his body was meeting your sopping hole. His breathing was fast and soft, sighing when he bottomed out. Another bite to your lip, a few more deep hits to your cervix, and you enjoyed a small but satisfying release. The hand on you stayed through, riding out tiny waves of pleasure as you twitched around him. When you felt his release you sighed, you did it. You think. Maybe. Regardless. 
As he slowly lifted you, you considered if your legs could hold you—
Up you went and back down you fell as he took a new, quicker pace.
“A-Ah-lastor?! You,” you bit your tongue, “already finished?”
You had made a mistake earlier that you hadn’t even realized. But Alastor had been holding it between his sharp teeth, “How many times?”
Absolutely no idea what he was talking about, you gasped out a reply, “What!?”
“How many times should I fill you before you’re too filthy to return to heaven, do you think?” He couldn’t be serious. “Three? Five? You see, the advantage of using my tentacles is that I don't get tired.”
Oh, but he was serious. 
The battle was entirely forfeit somewhere around the third time he flooded you with his seed.
“These aren’t the usual screams I enjoy from my studio, but I’m not averse to them.”
 When he felt you’d learned whatever lesson you were supposed to be taking in by the pump full, you were finally removed from him. He covered your lower half with his coat around your waist. It would be lying to say you were surprised to find his wide shoulders and small waist wasn’t just an illusion of his well tailored, yet oddly torn, coat. He was annoyingly attractive. Who gave him the right?
Your legs gave out when you tried to stand, warm hands pulling under your armpits to get you back on your feet. As much as you wanted to push him away, you were still a little tipsy and your legs still getting used to full blood flow. His arm held out for you to use for stability, you took it and wobbled silently to the floor you both lived on. Before you left the elevator you looked down and saw a line of white dripping down your inner leg. Took longer than you expected, honestly. 
When you turned to the right to go to your door, his arm came around your waist and shepherded you to his room on the left. You shot him a look, asking what he thought he was doing. 
He laughed, “Oh, after tonight’s little escapade, you’re moving!” He opened his door and gestured for you to enter, “Welcome home, my dear.”
What was worse than a failure? A catastrophe? This was that. 
“Now come on, we need to get you cleaned up.” A hand patted softly at your ass before ushering you inside.
He did just that, wiping you down and undressing you before settling you into his bed. Exhausted and sore, you decided to argue after sleep.
When you awoke, you checked your shredded bottoms for your phone. Nothing. 
An answer was found when you mentioned it to Alastor, who asked what you were searching for so early in the morning, “Perhaps someone at that venue you enjoyed has it? Too bad you can’t go back and ask.” He was resting his back against the headboard, you realized he’d unbuttoned his shirt quite a bit. “Oh well!”
How was he always making you scream?
ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re
@asianfrustration13 @alittletiredcry @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp
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ew-selfish-art · 11 months
Text
Demon Twin AU 
Tim Drake comes across a LOA manuscript detailing the sacrifice of a Demon Heir that’s dated around the time Damian is born and brings it to the cave. There’s no other mention of what went down, but it looks like Damian was a twin and the twin was thrown into the Lazaras Pits- Tim kind of forgets about it but shows it to Damian cause he figures that the guy deserves to know, and leaves it out for Bruce to see (basically the same thing as telling him). It doesn’t really change much but there is an obscured name in the corner so they can presume that the kid’s name would have been something starting with D A N. 
Well here’s the thing: Names carry power. Damian reaches out to John Constantine to ensure that the child is actually dead, because presumably John can do that. John wants to give the kid some closure, so he does what is supposed to be a super chill seance to an infant. He pricks Robin’s finger, chants a little and the air... turns violent.
Uh oh. Dan appears, unshackled from his prison in the Infinite Realms now that John has called upon them by someone with Familial blood. He cackles madly about the fact that it’ll be a good time to bring about the apocalypse again, promising to spare the bird for now, since he would have to get answers later. 
The alarms are blaring, the whole JL is hands on deck to try and stop Dan as he attacks across the globe. They’re saving as many civilian lives as possible but its getting very HAIRY in less than 2 hrs. Robin is out in the chaos, trying to track him down with John and Zatanna trying to recapture him and banish him back to the realms. 
Phantom touches down just as the three of them reach Dan- Danny has some choice words for his older alternate timeline self, including “This is why you have no friends.” and “Seriously, you didn’t even stop to say hi to my timeline’s Jazz this time.” and “Soup time for 1,000 years and then we can talk remediation.” 
After a short but brutal fight, Danny floats over to Damian, John and Z. After making sure they’re all right he’s like “Maybe you can never do that again? Also tell me how and why you did that so I can banish that spell?” And Damian explains that it was meant to ensure that the infant twin he never knew had passed peacefully and clearly that was not the case. Danny blinks a few times, uh, a twin?
Damian goes through the shit, John explains that it was a familial summoning meant to be an advanced seance (hence the lack of safe guards to keep the entity in) and Z confirms that there was nothing special to it beyond that. 
Danny then explains, that uh, “I guess my parents weren’t kidding when they told me I was adopted. Hi? I’m your brother. Uh, I go by Danny though. Dan was me in a different timeline and he’s normally under super strict lockdown.” 
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angelfoxx · 6 months
Note
Coddling Keegan while giving him a handjob😖😖he’s cuddled up to you, head buried in your neck while your hand pumps his cock slow nd sloppy, whines a little when you pay attention to his tip, rubbing it with your thumb, “feels good, baby? Hm?” While ruffling his hair❤️❤️
“You wanna cum, sweet boy? Yeah?” You murmur, practically babying him🫶🫶
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┊ ➶ 。˚ ° ❝ SWEET BOY? ❞
…in which a very tired keegan gets special treatment.
FEATURING: keegan p russ (duh)
WARNINGS: obviously nsfw. mild overstim. mentions of crying. whoopsie
NOTE/S: hi anon hope u know i read this and my stomach clenched up. sorry just thought u should be aware
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“Feel good?” Your voice is just a soft murmur, sickeningly sweet and practically dripping in endearment. “Is that good, Kee?”
The only response you get is a breathy half-groan.
Poor Keegan. Genuinely. He’d come back from what he dubbed a shit mission this past afternoon; nothing too risky. Just a job that the “regular” recruits hit a wall with. A job that he had to go finish, because apparently the general force couldn’t get the fucking thing done.
His next assignment? Tomorrow afternoon. Approximately twelve hours from now, he’d be out again.
The poor guy was fucking exhausted. Hell, he’d called you that morning from the bed of the truck, and…you know why he had to go, you know that it’s his job and all, but…Christ, he’d sounded so tired. Tired and strained and done. Every nerve in your body had been screaming at you to fawn over him the minute he got home; a warm bath, a hot mug of tea (black). Some soup, bowl steaming. Hell, you’d been wringing your hands together at the mere thought of washing his hair. It had become a regular practice at this point; whenever he came back from an assignment, you’d be there to give him a soft landing upon arriving home.
This time around, you didn’t have the time for that. Despite his arguments, you’d probably have a word with whatever shit-for-brains commander had been in charge of putting him on back-to-back assignments.
To focus on the task at hand. Or in hand, rather. Keegan had told you he didn’t want all of the fancy stuff; tea, sure. Soup, sure. The bath and everything? No, he’d just shower.
He wanted a hot mug of tea, a bowl of soup, and then he wanted you to make him feel better in the best way you knew how.
Hence; your current position.
You hadn’t even made it to the bed. Keegan hadn’t even finished his fucking soup. He’d been staring into it like a ghost; gaze vacant, face empty, eyeblack staining his skin charcoal-gray. Hell, the man had just thrown whatever clothes he could find on; just a plain white tee and sweats. For once, he hasn’t been careful with his gear; he’s got it slung haphazardly across the chair beside him. His fucking rifle is sitting on the thing like it’s also eating soup.
He didn’t have to say much. He just kind of shifted and looked you in the eye; sat back, opened his legs a little wider.
Upon swinging a leg over him and sitting in his lap, Keegan had all but deflated.
He’d smelled like soap. Kind of tasted like it, too. Either he had scrubbed off a layer of skin in the shower or he’d just neglected to fully rinse all of the shampoo out of his hair. Either way, you didn’t mind; the fact that he smelled vaguely of vanilla (because for some reason he continued to take your shampoo and not use his own) and he was just slumped back in the chair, weakly holding onto your head as you littered a trail of little marks along his throat…
…oh, sweet boy.
He thought the pet name was stupid. Usually. He’d laugh at you if you called him by it in most situations; the day he’d apparently decided it was safe enough to kiss you goodbye before he boarded the plane to head out on an assignment, you’d called him a sweet boy and Keegan, fully geared up in his vest and helmet with probably five different weapons strapped on around his waist, had just whistled and hummed in response.
Sweet boy, carrying a rifle and a knife and god-fucking-knows-what-else.
Now, though, he doesn’t complain. Either because he’s too tired to or because, right now, even he knows that it’s fitting. Big, beefy soldier, pretty blue eyes rolled back, pretty pink lips parted and pretty little mouth too tired to fight the quiet little noises that would normally remain buried under his tongue. His brow knits, and his nostrils flare, and — oh — his chest rises and his breath hisses in through his nose.
A fat pearl of pre swells up on his tip for a moment before you run your thumb over it and spread it across the blunt round of his cockhead.
It’s not fair to him. Maybe. You’re going so slow and you’re just lazily stroking him but he doesn’t seem to mind. Oh, not at all. His brow knits and his mouth opens a little further; he lets out a short, hoarse breath, chest puffing up before it shudders back down and the muscles along his neck flex.
“Deep breaths, Kee.” You lean forward, kissing the side of his cheek and biting back a grin when his entire body shudders. “Easy.”
“I’m ff…fffuckin’ trying.” Keegan’s voice is rough, strained breathlessly thin. “I’m ff…uhhhckin’ trying, princess, but…”
“Can’t?” You smile, body shuddering. “Aw. Sweet boy.”
Keegan tries to shoot you a glare. He tries. One squeeze of your hand closing over his cockhead has him tensing up again, head tipping back and jaw clenching up as he bites back another groan.
You don’t say anything. You could tease him more (hell, you’d be jumping at the chance any other time), but right now he’s almost pitiful. Sore, exhausted, run-down and on a tight deadline to head back out tomorrow.
The man deserves a break. He doesn’t deserve to be mocked. So you keep your mouth shut (at least, in regards to taunting him) and you tease your thumb over his slit in slow little circles.
Keegan’s body shudders. From somewhere deep in his chest, he groans, brow knitting and eyes squeezing shut. His hips buck up; his cock slides through your grasp, swollen and slick. He’s aching for release, aching for it; it’s like his self-control has been put out to float on a raft and is just drifting towards total euphoric collapse. His head lolls on his neck; he’s in a daze, exhaustion and pleasure mixing like a dreamy cocktail in his system.
“I’ll get a nice bath ready for you after this assignment. Sound good?” You grin as you swish your thumb over his tip and he stiffens, body wound tight and eyes rolling back in his head. He doesn’t give you a verbal response; he just groans, one of his hands pawing uselessly at your waist. His big hands, gloved hands, rough and callous…
The throaty auh Keegan lets out brings your head back into reality, just in time to see his jaw drop and his pretty lips form a pink O as his eyes squint and his lashes flutter. His cock jerks in your hands, and a dribble of thin pre runs down the joints of your fingers. His hips buck up; under that thin layer of cotton, you feel his abdomen flex tight.
Apparently embarrassed at his own sound, Keegan turns his face towards you. Messily, he thrusts his lips at yours; when your body ripples and your hand flexes, he groans, low and tired into your mouth. His skin is hot; he’s flustered, but he’s too tired to do much about it.
“You gonna fall asleep on me after this?” You manage a quiet laugh. “No real rounds?”
Keegan groans. His voice, when it does manage to come out, is throaty and hoarse. There’s a sort of grumble in his voice, a sort of sleepy drawl that has your knees weak. “Shit, if you want…”
You giggle, biting your tongue when you skim the tips of your fingers over the ridge of his head and he tenses, teeth sinking into his lip. “I don’t think you can, Kee. I really don’t.”
“Shut it.” Though his tone is gruff, a tease of your finger over his leaking slit has Keegan’s head lolling back and his eyes, pretty pools of sapphire blue, roll back as his lashes flutter. “I’ll just lay there. You…nngh…you can just get on top an’…”
Keegan’s body shudders. His shoulders lift off the back of the chair; there’s a tremor deep in his belly that you can feel under your hand as he slumps back again, stomach rolling forward and hips rolling up. His abdomen clenches and sucks in so hard you can see the outline of his abs through his shirt, despite the loose fit.
Close.
You’ve learned his bodily cues by now. He tenses, starts to breathe hard — you can hear air rasping in and out of his nose — and, yeah, he paws around until he can grab onto your wrist, fingers wrapping around the spot right under your hand. He’s funny like that; you wouldn’t catch him dead pitying himself, telling you he was nothing but your little play-thing — but god, the quiver in his hand and the tremor in his breath is so, so far away from dominant. It’s so far away from being in control. If anything, he’s feeling your control; he’s feeling your pulse pick up as you shift on his lap, he’s feeling your arm tense as you bite your lip and stroke quicker, faster, twist your hand, and — oh — he’s gripping tight as you swipe your hand at just the right angle, pull it flush against the base of his cock and pump up and —
The strangled cry that comes out of Keegan’s mouth is strained and loosely contained. His jaw snaps shut, his lips seal; his hips buck up, and there’s a soft scuffle as his feet shove against the ground and his socks give him no traction to hold on.
You see the corded muscle of his neck swell at the same time that you feel a ribbon of something hot and sticky squirt up your forearm.
Five times. Five times, Keegan’s hips jerk up; his head turns either way, and his eyes squeeze shut for the first two jolts. They start to open; they flutter, roll back. Close again for the third. The same goes for the fourth. The fifth, though, his eyes open when his hips twitch, and when you try to meet his gaze you look into bottomless blue hues lidded and vague with euphoria.
The blunt edges of his nails dig into your wrist right under a streak of cum. The stuff strings your arm and webs beneath it, threatening to drip onto his thighs. Not that he’d mind, probably. Not now, at least. He’s too weak and tired to really care. Too busy groaning, sound contained deep in his chest, body rippling as pleasure tides over him. Over…and over…and over.
“Feel better?” You prompt the question in a soft voice after a long moment of silence for him to recover. Not that he had any performance issues — just tired, like this, pushed flat-out for too long…he has this worn, beaten look on his face. Barely lifted after everything.
“Yeah.” Despite that, Keegan’s response comes quick; breathless, but quick. His eyes shift over to meet yours, and Christ, if he looked tired before…
“Kee.” The note of pity that leaks into your voice is entirely instinctual. When you lean forward, his breathing staggers; he sort of half-laughs when you run your thumb over his three-fourths lidded eyes, weakly turning away from the contact. “Don’t touch me right now.”
“Kee.” You repeat his name, more seriously this time. “Kee, you look like you’re gonna pass out.”
“I’m not.” Keegan shakes his head; as if to prove his point, he shifts a little in his seat, pulling himself slightly more upright.
“You look like it. You look so tired.” You lean forward, this time; it’s an effort to push his hair back, and one that he leans away from. “Keegan. Let me take care of you.”
In response, he only laughs. It’s a tired laugh, one that rasps in his chest, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. When he replies, his tone isn’t serious. “You’ve got it on your hands.”
so sorry for my absence. my cod hyperfixation chilled the fuck out a little whoopsie anyways
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luna0713hunter · 7 months
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I'd die for you
Zoro Roronoa x reader
Summary : when Zoro is injured by Hawk Eyes,you cant help but to worry about him.
Warnings : none really, basically hurt/comfort,mentions of injuries and fear of losing the person you love aka Zoro, bickering couple
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
"Wow," Sanji breaths, "Just,wow..."
You let out a whine and hide your face in your hands.
"Sanjiiii," you take hold of the cook's sleeve and shake him as hard as you can (which isnt much), "what should i do?! there's no way Zoro would actually like this!!!"
"I dont know," the blonde takes a spoonful of the soup you've made,which was oddly....black, "that blockhead should be thrilled that you put so much effort in making this for him!!"
You sniff,watching as Sanji swallows and school his expression,but not before his face paling slightly, "it just...has a little too much salt. And pepper...and.." when his eyes land on your defeated expression,Sanji smiles brightly again but it seems a little forced "and its absolutely delicious!!!i cant see how he cant possibly love this!"
"you're just saying that to make me feel better. You dont have to pretend,Sanji."
The cook gives you a charming smile and starts cleaning the kitchen, "if a man can't appreciate his woman cooking for him,then he doesn't deserve to taste it. So,y/n," he turns around from washing the dishes and smiles warmly at you, "don't be nervous. And remember you can always learn from your mistakes."
You smile back,and take hold of the bowl and walk our of the kitchen;a small skip to your steps.
"I'm going!!"
"Good luck with him!"
You giggle as you try to rush to where Zoro is; resting in his bedroom after you specifically asked him to rest.
It hasn't been long since he got injured by Hawk Eyes, and as much as he didnt want to admit those scars needed time to fully heal. And with him running around and fighting everyone in sight,it wasnt easy to actually make him rest. So after a small argument with him and some help from Sanji,you managed to cook something for him. The cook had mentioned that the herbs in the soup would heal him faster,but judging from how dark the food looked like,you may or may have not overcooked it. Only a little.
As you reach his room, you take a steady breath to calm yourself before knocking gently on the door.
"If its about your damn cooking or personal space again,i couldn't care less Sanji."
"Zoro,its me."
When the other side goes silent,you cant help but to roll your eyes playfully and grin. Sanji and Zoro couldn't get along for the life them and it never ceases to amuse you.
"...come in."
You take another breath as you finally open the door.
Zoro is,to your delight, actually resting on his hammock. His arms are folded behind his head as he stares at you when you walk through the door. The room is mostly dark,since he has a habit of drawing the curtains whenever Sanji is not around to nag at him. Your eyes momentarily traces the shape of the bandages under his shirt,before clearing your throat and moving to his side.
"i hope you're hungry. Sanji helped me cook this for you."
Zoro eyes the bowl in your hands,but doesn't move from where he's laying
"its not poisoned,is it?"
"i was cooking,what do you think?"
Zoro purse his lips and doesn't reply. You visibly gape at him and stump your foot angrily
"I'm not that bad at cooking!!"
"i didnt even say anything."
"your face says all i need to know!!" You huff and turn around, "maybe i should just give this to Luffy! I'm sure he would appreciate it,unlike someone."
You dont even have time to take another step before there are arms around your waist,not hard that you spill the soup,but enough to stop you from leaving.
"...give it here."
You dont turn around,but your lips twitch; Zoro could never say no to you.
"And why would i?"
"...cause I'm hungry and it smells...really good."
And when you finally turn around,you lift an eyebrow unamused.
"was that pause really necessary?"
"just give me the damn bowl."
You try really hard to hide your teasing grin,but judging from the scowl Zoro's wearing, you're not very successful at it.
You wait impatiently as Zoro blows the soup (which is totally unnecessary since its already lukewarm) and swallows a spoonful. You fidget with your fingers, tilting your head to side and looking at the man in front of you nervously.
"so?how is it?"
Zoro takes a moment before looking up at you.
"it's the best soup I've ever had."
There's a moment of silence where you just stare at the man in front you. He looks serious;no sign of his teasing grin or eye rolls. And when he sees you not responding,he just goes back to eating your black, burned soup.
Your eyes water and you try to muffle your sob.
At the sound, Zoro's head immediately snaps up,his eyes widening when they land on your crumbled form. He jumps to his feet and takes hold of your shoulders,caresses your cheek and wipes the tears away so gently that it has you crying harder.
"hey,hey. why are you crying?"
You shake your head and hide your face in his chest.
"i almost lost you Zoro..."
"but I'm-"
"you're not fine!!" You sob,and raise your face so you can watch his own twist into a frown as he watches your tears increase, "you almost died!! If it weren't for Zeff's help,you would've bled to death!i cant get the image of that sword slashing your chest out of my head!heck,i cant sleep without thinking of you dying in front of me Zoro!"
When you finally finish your little rant,your face is flushed and your breathing is uneven. Your mind wonders off to that cursed moment again,when a hand on your cheek pulls you back to your senses.
"breath," Zoro murmurs, "breath,babe. Its alright. Im fine;more than fine."
He rests his forehead against yours and puts your hand on his chest. Where you could feel his heart beating.
Alive and safe
"see?" He presses his lips to your heated skin and his hold on you tightens, "and, I'm getting so much better already with your magical soup."
At that,you let out a wet giggle and look up at him, sniffing, "really?"
"really."
And when he slowly steps back until he's laying on his hammock again,with your ear pressed against his beating heart,and the empty bowl of the soup on the floor;you feel your eyes slowly flutter shut.
"Sleep,love. I'll be right here when you wake up."
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flamingpudding · 10 months
Text
Gaming Pal Prompt
A/N: Random Idea that was stuck in my head after reading about a Pen Pal Prompt
It all started with a simple accidentally created open lobby. Sam, Tucker and Danny were just playing Doom in a four person Lobby that was supposed to be passcode locked and private so that it was only the three of them playing. But one of them must have forgotten to lock it as suddenly a random player joined them as well as the in-game voice chat they were using.
"Sup. Mind if I join the game? My last lobby kicked me."
"Why? Too good or too bad?"
Tucker shot back, not minding the new player. The three would just have to watch what they talk about during game time.
"Don't know. I think they thought I cheated."
"Pff, sore losers. Maybe you can help these losers kick ass."
"Oh shut it Sam, we will wipe the floor with you now!"
"A challenge huh? That sounds interesting. I am Tim by the way."
"Sam."
"Tucker."
"Danny."
The friend request was sent after the game in which Tim did help Tucker and Danny beat Sam. Only for Sam to demand a rematch to regain her victory streak. From then on the random player regularity started joining in on their games whenever he happened to be online at the same time.
Of course the trio filtered their talks over voice chat. Making sure they wouldn't let anything atrocious slip. Though they did have some fun telling a non Amity Parker about the shit that goes down in their town and Tim always appeared interested to hear more about the things going on. Always curious and full of follow up questions, that strangely focus on who the attackers were ( always ghosts really they don't have any other rogues aside from maybe the fruitloop) and other times very much focused on their local ghost hero Phantom. He was also strangely interested in the whole GIW situation and sounded rather confused when they mentioned the Anti-Ecto Acts.
Aside from that Tim practically became a part of their little group. Their online Gamer Pal who knew nearly as much about their rogues and local Hero (thanks to all the questions he asked) like they did. A full fledged Team Phantom member who just didn't know the main secret of Danny actually doing the Ghost fighting as Phantom and being the one getting hunted by his own Parents and the GIW.
So of course the day came where Sam, Tucker and Danny forget to filter their words. It was during one particularly exhausting day when Danny had only had like 4 hours of sleep because he had studied all night for an English Test and then Skulker appeared to hunt Phantom and Danny's parents showed up too, making souping the Hunter Ghost especially difficult.
"Ancients, Skulker just had to decide on hunting you today, didn't he Danny?"
"Don't remind me. He is still souped in the thermos, but dodging Mom was harder with so little sleep."
"Should you like take a nap then man?"
"Nah I am fine for gaming night."
"Hey Danny, you did escape the blasters unscratched right? Your mom is the better shot after all."
"Nearly. Mom landed a couple of hits but it's almost healed already, just some small burn marks left."
"I am sorry, WHAT?! Did you guys just say that Skulker, the one that's hunting Phantom for sports, was hunting Danny. Danny was the one to Soup him not Phantom and Danny's Mom shot and hurt her own son with one of these ecto-blasters?!"
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