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#Because I wanted to quit several times while drawing this
stinkypeanutbutter · 2 days
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‘ Tick
Tick
Tick ‘
The light sound of ticking from the clock could be heard from Aiden’s bed , which Aiden has been laying on for the past 40 minutes , or so . His parents had gotten him it quite a while ago . He wasn’t sure why , because he knew he wouldn’t be able to figure it out or have enough focus to remember , but it was something along the lines of “ Not having to use a phone or digital clock when it’s around . “ ‘ Tick
Tick
Tick ‘
He didn’t like that clock . It felt loud , felt repulsive and it bothered him so . Yes , it felt loud , he could feel it . Each time it ticked it felt like it slowly crept into his ears like a bug and started chewing at his brain .
. What time was it ?
He couldn’t remember . Maybe he should , it seems like something he should know of but he doesn’t . Not right now . .
.
Aiden didn’t really feel loved . Wow ! That was random , gotta be all edgy don’t we . .
Well , it was true . But of course he’s wrong , he has to be . His parents were there , sometimes , and showered him with gifts whenever they came back from traveling for work . .
Annoying . It’s all so irritating . His parents love him , he’ll keep telling himself that to make sure it sounds true enough to believe , even if the truth may hurt more then the lies .
. . Lies ? No no , there weren’t any lies . They never said anything to lie , did they ? He couldn’t remember . Hungry . He was hungry . or bored ? One of the two fit .
Maybe he’s lying to himself just as much as he believed they were . But he wasn’t , he was sure his friends cared for him . I thought this was about his parents ? He’s sure it was , that’s what got him thinking more in the first place , since around 2 : 33 pm . .
It was 2 : 33 . Was it ? Maybe it’s a minute before , maybe after but he couldn’t check the clock if he wanted .
‘ Tick ‘
He wanted to die . No , no he didn’t . Maybe . He hadn’t put much thought into that in a while . Maybe he does , or he’s sure he just doesn’t care if he dies or not . Risk is fun . The risk or the thrill ? The risk is what gives him the thrill . What does he like more ? Hm .
Parents , family , yada yada . He wished they had bothered to call him back once , just once anytime they were away to check in on him , make sure he’s fine . He’s always fine , he’ll always be fine , what ELSE is there to be ? Not sad , he can’t be that it would worry everyone . Would it ? He wished his parents worried more . Called more , appreciated him more , cared about him more he doesn’t care if they love him or not anymore all he wanted was they’re stupid attention , not coming back every few months with a ton of pricey , dumb gifts to make up for lost time . Lost time they barley bother to recover because it’s all just gifts he never asked , never wanted once , and yet he never bothered to speak up about it . He felt tired . Hungry ? Bored ? He went over this already .
They loved him , but he has a feeling they at least love him for being a family member more then their son .
But he can’t help but wonder what they truly cared most for . Himself , or the fortune that was brought upon them .
.
. Caring . They were caring , his friends were so caring to him . He brang them up again . How many times has he did that ?
2 ?
It was 2 : 33 . No , he’s wrong , several minutes passed already . Several hours ? No , it’s still light out . He feels cold . Deathly cold . But the fans not on . Is it ? He doesn’t want to turn his head to check , he’s tired . He feels too under - stimulated . He wants to move , draw , run , jump , dance , but he can’t . He wants to . Will he ? He doesn’t care right now . Care ? If he asked that to anyone , everyone , how many answers will he receive . . Or how many will differ from the rest . Everyone has different feelings , different reactions , different expectations towards whatever . What would his friends say ? His parents ?
‘ tick ‘
.
.
What time was it again ?
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north-winds1 · 9 months
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skunkes · 5 months
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i have soooo much more i cld say abt him, and have explored more thru other doodles, but quick summary of talon's whole deal, which is subject to change still as he's only almost 2 yrs old as an oc
#oc text#obvs sparse description of the events bc i dont mean for it to be gratuitous#even if i decided to explore it further in some medium the focus wouldnt be gratuitous ykwim#not that there werent awful stuff within that but my focus with talon is also more exploration of like#even stuff that isnt a big deal (which it wasnt at first) can effect someone greatly#and then once it does get a bit worse the focus is still more on the effects of how he views himself and the aftermath#AS WELL AS LIKE. well. did i do this to myself? i went back. do i deserve this?#he's a lot like me and the reason i like the self insert dynamic is bc he thinks of cheye as Me If It Didnt All Go Horribly#bc ive not gone thru the Extreme but i have had interactions with ppl who very enthusiastically thought i was ummmm underage!!!#while they were already being creepy toward me and making me nervous abt my safety !#so this isnt ''he's umm 400 but looks 12 bc i want to do weird shit with him 😏'' dude drawing him Fed makes me so sad sometimes...#we're also weird eating buddies <3#and grief buddies <3 he actually further spawned out of my need to deal with a lot of family members passing away in such a short time#severe death phobia buddies...#i still dont know how he really feels about his Old Wrinkly Form btw all i know is he feels safe in it#as much as id love to sway toward ''he thinks he's hot like that. because he is.'' i also dont want to convey the wrong message wrt this#form being due to....disordered eating caused by Issues. ykwim#though! he can shapeshift quite well when he's fed and maybe he'd choose that form willingly if he ever got. Past everything#he does hate that he never gets to actually age...! he wishes he cld age normally like a mortal...(still scared of dying though)#but we cant knoww for certain yet ykwim. maybe he'll let me know soon.#my issue with talon other than i suck at plots is well he has too many of my issues. and. idk how to solve them.#he's growing with me.#oh and have we noticed he's mean to me when *im* being mean to me...MANY such metaphors#ok goodnite
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anxiousbabybird · 3 months
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Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged and NSFW HCs, PART 2!
Once again, minors do not interact! I made you guys a part 2 of my current thoughts. No plot or card spoilers in my comments or reblogs, please and thank you 💙
Part 1
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Rafayel
Have you met this man? He wants to know where you’re at and who you’re with at all times. So jealous. It’s probably in your best interest to forget other men exist once you’re dating him
Convinced you to suck his dick while he’s painting to see if it helps convey emotion into his painting—he accidentally pushed the paintbrush through the canvas when he came
Loves when you ride him—it’s so cute watching you bounce on him and use his body for your own pleasure. This also allows him to sit back a little and enjoy every sound you make, every facial expression, every feeling. Of course he does eventually get bored and flips you onto your back for his turn
Before you’re dating, he persuades you into being a nude model for him. He takes his time caressing your skin and telling you he has to “feel” the art, lets his hands wander and linger as he moves your body little by little until you’re in the exact position he wanted. Spends hours staring at your naked body, pretending to draw it (he finished his sketch hours ago but he doesn’t want you getting dressed yet)
Kinks/fetishes: biting, marking, breeding, spit, primal, spanking, mirror sex, praise, wax, shibari, choking, exhibitionism
Loves a pussy job—just sliding his cock between your folds and tapping at your clit like he’s knocking on a door until he cums all over you. Loves this for two reasons: 1) you look exquisite with your clit swollen and body spattered in cum, and 2) the banter between the two of you during a pussy job is top tier. It’s not quite degradation, but you’re both going back and forth in the most teasing way, riling each other up.
Has the biggest praise kink. He thinks he might actually die if you don’t tell him how amazing he is at least 12 times a day
Part of the pretty dick club. It’s actually perfect—thick but not too thick, long but not too long, nice veins wrapping around and well groomed at the base. Some would say it’s perfect.
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Xavier
Sometimes when he’s flustered by you, his body emits a soft glow because of his evol. You notice it for the first time when you surprise him with a kiss to his cheek. He glows a little brighter the first time he kisses your lips too.
He’s fallen asleep during sex before. Usually after several rounds, he’s cum twice already, and you’re laying on your sides on the bed and he’s lazily thrusting into you from behind and all of a sudden he stops. Sheathed inside you and an arm around your waist. When you look over your shoulder, he’s sounds asleep and already softly snoring. You have no choice but to do the same, falling asleep in his arms and keeping his cock nice and warm all night
His favorite position is missionary where your legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s slowly, deeply thrusting into you. He likes seeing every expression on your face, really feeling you sucking him in, hearing every breathy moan you try to hide from him. And he likes that he can kiss you whenever he wants
Likes to read at night, even though he falls asleep doing it. When you start staying nights at his place, he convinces you to read out loud to him and you do that every night until he falls asleep with his head on your chest.
Kinks/fetishes: hair pulling (he likes when you give a little tug), overstimulation, marking, cum play, face sitting, cockwarming
Loves fresh flowers and brings you new ones every week. He thinks they’re pretty and hopes you appreciate them the way he does. Sometimes he buys them or sometimes he picks them from some lush patch in the forest. Always takes some for himself so he knows when they start dying and he needs to get you new ones.
Loves to lay his head in your lap so you can play with his hair
The kind of guy who will keep his hand holding yours no matter what because he wants to make sure you’re staying beside him. Sometimes takes one of your hands and puts it in the pocket of his sweatshirt with his just so it stays warm.
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Zayne
He was very opposed to fucking in the hospital at first but then on a day he was super stressed, you stopped by and sucked him off under his desk while he reviewed charts and he was able to successfully perform a surgery other doctors thought was inoperable—he was more lenient on sex in the hospital after that
Kinks/fetishes: size kink, spanking, brat taming, choking, degradative praise, impact (spanking/flogging/paddle), breeding, edging/denial, thigh riding, dirty talk
Has absolutely bent you over his knee to spank you when you’re being a brat and talking back to him all the time with no regard for your own well being. All he wants is to take care of you because you never take care of yourself. And he would take the best care of you.
Cunt smacks. No further explanation needed.
Favorite sex position is prone bone. He likes hitting it from the back because sometimes the prolonged eye contact that can come with facing each other makes him uncomfortable. But doggy style isn’t what he wants because he wants to feel your body against his, holds you as close as possible. This position works best because every inch of him is atop you and he can feel your body there beneath him, he gets to tuck his head into your neck to bite or kiss or moan into, he’s close to your ear and can whisper filthy things or tell you how close he is or how good you feel around him, and most of all, this position has him so fucking deep inside you that he swore nothing in this life felt better the first time he entered you in this way
Allergic to saying nice things to you 98% of the time.
He runs cold because of his evol and sometimes when he cums, it feels like ice inside of you. Made you scream in surprise the first time but leads to some fun temperature play where he uses his tongue to warm you up after. He’s also often cold and loves to curl up against you and tell you that you’re his heater.
#ThickDickClub
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@luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps @adaurielle
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bunny-extract · 1 year
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need that feral jealous konig so bad 😩
me too! Read this as an exploration of his severely malformed attachment issues…or as him being a horny freak both are valid.
So. König has a huge cuckhold fantasy where he's fucking you in front of your partner. Imagines that partner as Ghost because of course they do not get along, and of course you two do. Drives him absolutely mad, and he is not above taking that jealousy out on you.
His roughness would be sudden and unannounced, but not unwelcome. He'd take his time at your mouth, holds you firm by the hair because he knows how much you like when he gets mean. Works you up with his tongue licking against yours, his fingers pawing heavy at your chest while he thinks about Ghost watching. Could nearly feel the heat of his glare just then. Pissed, and as he should be.
Nobody should treat you so carelessly. Only König. Only to prove a point.
He'd undress you hastily. Hike your shirt up and pull your pants barely down your thighs before he's on you. Would use them to trap your legs together and bend you in half, your ass in the air.
The manhandling gets you hot, whining and reactive beneath him. You'd eat up the attention, and it's enough to make his cock twitch. If he really were taking you in front of your precious fucking lieutenant, König can imagine you'd be even wetter. Would surely ask to hang your pretty little head over the edge of the bed to get fucked. Christ, not that he'd let you. He's going to have Ghost watch, nothing else. König would sooner spill blood than share you like that.
Knees to your chest, he would make you spread yourself for him while he lines himself up. It's humiliating, makes König feel like he's fucking ravaging you when he finally sinks the tip in.
He almost rethinks not prepping you, but you beg him to keep going and he can't. Can't fucking listen to you when you say please. Smothers your mouth with his hand and sinks lower with the new angle.
It'd be slow, but he'd make a good show of pushing his cock into you, inch by inch by fucking inch. You'd feel it good the next morning, and maybe someone will notice the way you limp. How you wince over every bump in the road, when you bend low enough to feel the ache inside of you.
While he's fucking into you his muttering are desperate, promises of "I can make you feel this way whenever you want, you just have to ask." Imagines Ghost would have his throat for that, but his balls are fucking heavy and he's enjoying the way they pat against your ass. Uses the bounce of your body to fuck you silly on his cock.
“Feels so much better when I do it, hm? Like it better this way, don't you?" And you'd go along with it, eyes screwed tight in search of your orgasm. He'd fuck it out of you, hold you down with a hand over your neck, his thumb resting where your pulse is strongest.
He'd draw it out as long as he could, but his orgasm would hit him sudden and unstoppable. You'd still be riding aftershocks, spasming against him when he comes. Spills inside of you, and it's the best orgasm König thinks he's ever had. Watches your eyes go big and wide before they flutter, roll sinfully back behind your lashes.
"Heilige scheiße." And there's ropes of it dripping from his cock, tethering him to you. Drenching the dark hair along his inner thighs, slipping down your ass... Quite a mess, he thinks with a watering mouth.
Ghost would clean it up for you. For the both of you. In his fantasy, at least.
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halemerry · 9 months
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I’m doing it. I’m breaking down the Scene. You know the one. I've been tearing it apart for a week straight now in discord and figured I should leave my observations here. So, uh, yeah, this one's a big one so buckle up folks!
I want to start with the build up because I can never leave well enough alone and because I think the framing we have coming into this sequence is important. We start with the camera on Mr. Acts of Service himself. Crowley, after banishing Muriel, starts cleaning up the bookshop. The music playing is the soft slow rendition of the opening theme. He is returning this space to the status quo, resetting back to normal, fully intending to do this for Aziraphale before dragging him out to the Ritz, falling back on their typical pattern of going out together for food and drink.
Now in a moment he's going to get interrupted by Nina and Maggie but before we get there I want to take a second to draw attention to the area of the bookshop that Crowley will be operating in for the bulk of this. This space is one we very frequently see Aziraphale in. It's his desk behind the till - a spot linked intrinsically to him, even down to the fact that it's located on the east side of the shop. The windows are throwing beams of light onto Aziraphale's chair and onto the same spot Crowley will stand during The Scene. This lighting choice will not change from now until our last shots in the bookshop and the way the blocking plays around these sunbeams is very aware (as Good Omens nearly always is) of exactly where they will land.
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Nina and Maggie enter the scene to have a chat about boundaries and communication. Maggie, his own mirror, tells him flat out that he can't play with their lives like that. Maggie and Nina then both tell him that he and Aziraphale need to talk. And I don’t think they're wrong, exactly, but I do think that Aziraphale and Crowley are actually a lot better at communicating in general than they are in these following high stakes scenes. But that's some meta for later - for now I want to just focus on the particular way Crowley's been primed for the conversation he and Az are about to have. Nina in particular does something really interesting. She does exactly what we as the audience did when we first saw Nina and Maggie: she mistakenly projects herself onto Crowley. She says he has trust issues because she does and in the process accidentally frames the core of their problem as Crowley needing to allow himself to trust Aziraphale, a thing that he actively already does and has done for quite some time and has been shown to us several times throughout the two seasons.
Now the build up we get for Aziraphale going into this conversation is very small. By which I mean practically non-existent. We start at the end of his conversation with the Metatron who tells him to go tell his friend the good news - which notably does not imply that the news is something that would require Crowley to make a choice - and sends Aziraphale on his way. Now the most crucial thing in this sequence, to me, is the expressions Aziraphale makes when he thinks the Metatron isn't looking at him. While polite and smiley when engaged with him, Az's expression falls as soon as he doesn't have eyes on him. Something is wrong and Aziraphale knows it.
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Aziraphale enters the shop. The doorway is dark and shadowy and he hasn't composed himself yet - though he does give Nina and Maggie a little smile as they leave. Then, as soon as they're not looking at him, but before he approaches Crowley, the tension is back.
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He hesitates, then smiles and approaches Crowley. Crowley, planted dead center in that beam of light from earlier, takes off his glasses and promptly starts nervously rambling. The music cuts off here entirely, giving us nothing to focus on but the noises coming from our lead actors, the background noise from the street, and the ticking of the clock in the background. Aziraphale puts up his hands like he's going to interrupt then lowers them again as Crowley keeps talking, his face shifting into this helpless sort of smitten look.
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Now look at the light and how it hits the bookshelves behind Crowley as he tries to get his confession going. It's in the shape of a wing. Keep an eye on that - when the camera chooses to show us this one wing of light is important.
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Aziraphale then interrupts and there are two things I want to draw attention to here as Aziraphale fumbles for words. First of all is the fact that he glances in the direction of the door (and the Metatron) at least three times as he's struggling to speak.
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Secondly, I want to draw attention to the words Az actually says here. He first echoes the Metatron's earlier statement about good news. He then does not roll into the news itself and instead glances at the door and says the Metatron. He starts rambling about the Metatron to a very confused looking Crowley and evetually talks his way into that the Metatron said something. He then hits a wall again, scrambling to find words and instead of explaining the context of what the Metatron says he lands on Gabriel. His brain latches onto someone obviously on the forefront of both their minds and something vaguely relevant to the news he's about to share. He rambles more about Gabriel's job, glancing once again at the door in the middle of this, still avoiding getting to the actual point or perhaps even synthesizing said point as he goes.
We then cut to what is framed as a flashback. I think it is very notable we only see this as Az is telling it to us. In other words that this is not us witnessing an event happening but us witnessing what Aziraphale is telling Crowley. This sequence is the single scene where the Metatron calls Crowley by name despite actively avoiding it in any real time continuity sequences. He uses it twice here which I think also is the strongest thread in here that tells us that we are seeing what Crowley is being told not necessarily what actually happened.
The instant the idea of restoring Crowley comes up the wing of light behind Crowley loses visibility. Crowley's speechless for a moment so Aziraphale fills the silence, already looking like he wants to cry as he talks about the old days. (I also can't help but to notice that the lights behind Az in this shot look like eyes.) Crowley finally speaks and circles around the beam of light he's been standing in like an object seeking to re-establish a source of gravity. The music cuts back in here with tense drawn out notes.
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Crowley talks about how Hell offered him his place back and he turned them down. Aziraphale in turn presses on ideas that we know he doesn't really believe. It's a echo of the bandstand and uses a lot of the same language of that fight - another fight we know features Aziraphale saying things he knows aren't true. By now, we have seen him multiple times this season express he does not want to go back and make it abundantly clear that the side they have made for themselves is important to him. We see him actively calling angels bad and incompetent, contrary to everything he's telling Crowley here. We see him be the one to repetitively remind Crowley that they are on their side and be the one that always draws attention to that first. Yet here he says Heaven is the side of light to Crowley - who by the way is literally framed in light. The frame is telling us outright that Crowley is already Good as he is, while Az's expressions are telling us he knows Heaven isn't.
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Aziraphale can't tell him that he did not turn down the job and Crowley does another orbit. The music cuts again. This time, he stops with his back to Az, tilts his head upward and decides to ruin me by invoking God.
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Here he is, hearing these awful things that he was sure they had moved on from, hearing these things he has tried for so long and so hard to help them both unlearn. But these sorts of habits and lessons are insidious and he knows that and he himself is even a victim of that himself. I mean, don't get me wrong, he recognizes this is weird, I think, but between his own self worth issues and the stress of the few days they'd had can't work out what exactly is off here. He's confused and lost and just been told, in his mind, that he is not good enough as he is - a thing he has always on some level also believed. Yet he reaches out to the parent that taught him that lesson in the first place for strength and grounds himself with that. He circles back to stand in the beam of light and, with that wing of light finally backlighting him again, he is brave and tries to be enough anyway. He bows his head downward, fully emerging the line of this body in the light and tries again. Because even now, even after that emotional blow, Crowley is an optimist who can't help but to try.
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At first Aziraphale can't figure out quite what is going on here. He squints at Crowley and glances at the door again. Crowley meanwhile keeps continually glancing upward, whether at God or to hold back tears or some combination of both. In most of these shots Crowley bisects the room, creating a dark half to his left and a light half to his right.
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Crowley says he relies on Aziraphale. Even here, even now when he's just hurt him. Because it is the truth. Because Aziraphale makes him feel less alone. Because Aziraphale proves to him that no matter how fucked the system is that there is still good in the world, even if he doesn't always agree with it.
It is only once there is no doubt what Crowley is doing that Aziraphale starts shaking his head in very small quick shakes. He looks panicked even as they both physically draw closer to each other. It's huge not here, not like this energy to me. Aziraphale asks Crowley to come with to help him run Heaven. This is the point where Crowley starts tearing up.
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Crowley then says you can't leave this bookshop, trying to say you can't leave me. Az, nearly in tears himself, says 'oh Crowley. Nothing lasts forever' as a means to convey that the books aren't what is important here. Crowley, naturally, hears 'including us.'
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Crowley looks down again, quietly agrees, and puts on his glasses, covering himself up again. He then wishes Aziraphale good luck and the music starts up again, still tense but sorrowful now. He leaves the light and heads to the door. Az can't help but to call after him. Please wait. And Crowley can't help but to listen. It's worth noting here that even as he rotates toward the north door, the light still gently hits his face. The shots in general are darker though. He's moved away from the light but it still can't help but to touch him.
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"Come with me," says Aziraphale and then after a pause adds "To Heaven." Aziraphale, looking heartbroken, starts one of two 'I' statements he will struggle around in the next few moments. He lands on I need. Which. I want to pause there a moment because holy shit. That is not something they say out loud either. Az looks at him a moment, visibly struggling before he says his dialogue about Crowley not understanding his offer. Like he's said something he didn't mean to and needs to cover it up or like he can't handle the silence after such an honest statement. And on some level he's not wrong there. Because Crowley doesn't understand what Aziraphale is trying to say. But Aziraphale doesn't understand the way Crowley is reading it to course correct either.
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Crowley says that he does understand and that he understands better than Aziraphale does. And he also isn't wrong either, from his perspective. Because he does understand the implications behind the offer theoretically in play here. Because he does know that the position Aziraphale is presenting him is not going to result in the outcome Aziraphale is presenting him with. There are some things you can't undo just like memories slipping through the cracks.
Az says there's nothing more to say, trying to dismiss Crowley despite having been the one to pull him to a stop moments ago. He puts on a fake polite smile for a beat but then his is jaw sets, mouth working as his eyes drop - unable to look Crowley in the eye.
Crowley tells him to listen as the music fades out and points upward. Aziraphale humors this, glancing up a few times before looking frustrated, saying he can't hear anything. The light from the window shines down in his direction without actually touching him. Crowley tells him "That's the point. No nightingales." The shot he's on here is a dark one without even any of the book shops pillars visible in it to brighten the shot.
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Aziraphale looks frozen a moment here and then as Crowley calls him an idiot and says 'we could have been us' his face completely crumbles. He rapidly glances away to hide his face and Crowley moves and reaches to pull him back. They're both distraught. Az is clearly already holding back tears even before Crowley touches him. The angle of this shot frames Aziraphale in the light of the window. For the first time in this whole sequence Aziraphale is in the light, literally being physically pulled into it by Crowley.
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The music swells, playing a similar theme to the one that plays as the Pillars of Creation are formed at the start of the season. They shift back and forth, the camera focusing on Aziraphale's face and hands. His hands move uncertainly, trying to reach out even as he's struggling emotionally. He is visibly shaking but he crucially does not pull away, not even a little.
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His hands settle on Crowley's back, right where his wings would be, and for a brief moment gets taller, like he's allowing himself to lean into the kiss. They press together tightly, their mutual gravity sending them crashing together before they break apart. When they do Aziraphale looks devastated and his eyes move pretty much instantly to look out the window where the Metatron would be.
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Crowley's glasses make him harder to read here, but he looks at Aziraphale like a man awaiting judgement in a trial he knows he's already lost. He's sad too, but as always, is waiting for Aziraphale's reaction. Because he might push continually at he boundaries of them as a unit but he has always let Aziraphale decide where to set them in stone.
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Az fumbles over words here. He gets stuck on "I" here and lets it hang in the air. He then visibly thinks his words over, his expression slowly filling with resolve as he comes to some sort of conclusion. Then, like it's difficult to say, he falls back into old coded language. "I forgive you." A thing he has always said in response to things that he agrees with but cannot or should not allow himself to have.
Crowley sighs and tells him not to bother, refusing to fall into the old pattern that Aziraphale has. He is setting a boundary, for once, and even if it is one born from misunderstanding I am proud of him for being able to. He turns away and leaves. And this is where Az seems most in danger of falling apart. His lips move as Crowley goes, forming the start of a 'no' after him. He draws back from the door and turns his body away from it, physically distancing himself from anything that would feel like following Crowley. Except he can't help himself. With shaking hands he reaches up to touch his lips. He presses in, like he's trying to recreate the pressure and then his jaw works a moment and his expression sets as resolved.
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The Metatron enters through the front door, which is framed in dark lighting. Aziraphale looks panicked and immediately turns his whole body away from him to hide his face while he collects himself.
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He turns around after a beat and the Metatron asks 'how did he take it?' This is an odd question that only sort of half fits the fact that we are meant to believe at this point - that Aziraphale should be obtaining a yes or no from Crowley. It's not asking Crowley's choice at all. It's like the Metatron assumed a different conversation had happened or perhaps that he already knew the answer.
Aziraphale says he took it badly and the Metatron just takes a moment to direct a few casual digs at Crowley. He references him being stubborn and too curious - all the while avoiding the use of this name. At this point Az's eyes are locked out the window in the direction Crowley vanished to. The Metatron asks if he's ready to start despite originally having promised Az time to think over his answer. Aziraphale keeps glancing out the window.
For a moment he cracks, stepping away from the Metatron and back toward the east side of the bookshop. For the only time in this whole sequence he steps right into the sunbeam Crowley started in. It notably never illuminates his face as he mentions the issue of his bookshop (a statement absolutely not about the bookshop).
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The Metatron explains Muriel will take care of it. Aziraphale looks back out the window with the start of an objection.
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The Metatron interrupts him asking if there's anything he needs to take with him. Az's mouth takes a moment to try and form words. He steps out of the light again, starts to object, and then cuts off, eyes back to the window. Then his expression shifts again, settling in another state of resolve before he puts on his falsely polite face and follows the Metatron out.
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As they leave the shop we cut back to Crowley. Crowley, who could've left to go handle his own emotions, did not leave. Instead he planted himself there, nice and noticeable. Like he wanted Aziraphale to see and know that he still has a choice. Like he needs to see Aziraphale make that choice for himself. Like he can't quite bring himself to be the one to close that last door. He stands there, framed by light, and doesn't move until the doors to the elevator to Heaven close behind Aziraphale. He then glances at Nina and Maggie and then gets in the Bentley, which starts playing the song that we now know he knows is supposed to be theirs. He turns off the music and drives away.
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So there's a lot in these sequences and most of it probably won't help us figure out exactly what comes next, but there are definite signs that all is not as it's being presented to us. Whether he's actively lying or not, something is wrong that Aziraphale either can't or won't talk about frankly with Crowley. I suspect, whether it's under stress from a literal threat or because he believes that it is the safest option for them, that Aziraphale is doing all of this to protect Crowley.
There are also all sorts of signals here, especially in the lights, that gesture at the fact their togetherness is a net good. Together they are balanced and stronger for it and likely more in alignment with the Ineffable Plan. And, more importantly than that, that said togetherness is so clearly what they both want. They have loved each other longer than anything alive has ever loved anyone and none of this changes that. They both are saying that in their own ways here, even if those ways are not ones the other is particularly good at picking up and I for one cannot wait to get to see the payoff of them learning how to.
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months
Text
Little Ghost
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader Drabble
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Thanks so much to @puff0o0 for drawing this and feeding me more ideas for GirlDad!Simon "Ghost" Riley.
(I didn't give the baby a name, I would've opt for Charlotte but idk what y'all want to name your children)
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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Your little toddler asking you, her momma for help. She had several drawings of her dad, you and her. She's been pointing non-stop while babbling at her drawing of her dad, with his mask on.
"Yeah love, that's dada.." You said to her with your head tilted, trying to understand what she was telling you. The little one whined in frustration, she wanted so bad to communicate what she wanted but she was only able to say a few words.
She had to demonstrate to you what she was referring to in the means of actions, she took her baby blanket on the couch and placed it over her head, somewhat resembling a mask.
You further encouraged her later on by giving her one of Simon's older masks and it seemed to have cheered her up, even though her head was too small for it and the mask's eye hole goes through her head perfectly like a shirt.
That's when you had the bright idea to surprise Simon, taking inspiration from the baby carrier you and your husband bought for your baby (he couldn't do anything but grumble about the fact that it was pink), you decided to make her a mask tailored to her.
It wasn't hard finding the materials, you already had a pink stretchy fabric from your old shirt and that plastic skull decoration you got from last Halloween. Oddly enough you got it because it was similar to Ghost's mask, it was time you repurposed it.
• ──── ✦ Time Skip ✦ ──── •
Ghost finally found himself home after being on a mission for almost two months, he opened the door, prying his keys off them and gently nudge it closed.
He looked around throwing his duffle bag on the ground near the shoe rack, he found himself smiling at the two pairs of shoes there. Yours and what he thought was the tiniest pink shoes, a space unoccupied at the right side to be completed by his pair of combat boots.
"Dada!"
Simon turned his head, looking further in towards your shared home to see his little girl stumbling towards him. Only to his amusement, she was wearing a pink version of his mask. Simon let out a chuckle, a proud boisterous one.
"Lovie, did you make that for her..?" Simon asked you after seeing you turn the corner to almost tackle him in a hug, the amusement in his voice still quite clear. You nodded your head before replying "Well I only helped, our mini Ghostie did most of the work". That earned you a forehead kiss from your husband.
He lifted your little one up after she looked at him and said "Up-py dada, uppies please", her tiny arms gripping his shirt while he carried her. The little mask reminded him of the time you surprised him with baby mittens with skeleton hands printed on it.
You kissed both their cheeks sending your little one into a fit of giggles while she tried to kiss her momma back. Simon just stared at the sight, feeling happier that he's home to his family.
Yeah he's definitely going to bring that pink mask along when he takes the little one to see the Taskforce again..
(The Taskforce interacting with little baby Ghost...)
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oepionie · 1 year
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THE WOES OF A JEALOUS FISH. octatrio
Characters: GN! Reader | Azul Ashengrotto x Reader, Jade Leech x Reader, Floyd Leech x Reader
Tags: Octatrio and jealousy, Pure fluff w/ very petty boys, Reader wears makeup in Azul's part, Jade blows a hairdryer in Floyd's face, Malewife Floyd
WordCount: 1.5k+ | 💌Masterlist
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A.A | AZUL ASHENGROTTO :
Azul blinks once, twice as he stares at the merman who was animatedly conversing with you. Rielle, Azul's old schoolmate, a prince of Atlantica, and the owner of this wretched cafe called 'The Secret Grotto'. The same cafe you've been ogling at for the last 20 minutes or so.
"Isn't this place amazing, Azul?! They even have a souvenir shop!" Now, Azul would normally find your eagerness adorable since seeing you happy was oh-so precious and priceless to him. However, this time, your enthusiasm made his heart sink while his mood deteriorated. On the surface, however, he keeps his calm and maintains his professional businessman persona, or at least he tries to.
"Monstro Lounge is far more superior. I mean...th-their cutlery doesn't even match their tablecloths here." Azul blurted out, crossing his arms over his chest and scrutinising the area intently.
"Well, we wanted to add a little bit of uniqueness! My cafe is all about personal touches, we focus more on making things look cozy!" Rielle chimes in, all bright and charming, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Azul narrowed his eyes, his hands itching to sever the prince's arm for touching you. Oblivious to Azul's ire, you stared at the cafe in awe, pointing out the small touches thrown about here and there.
Azul frowns, sulking and wanting to leave. He wanted to leave the moment he stepped into this place but he didn't have the heart to tear you away from the cozy small cafe. Especially since you were looking forward to this date for weeks, you even got Vil to doll you up and do your makeup today.
Deep down inside he felt a tinge of insecurity because he knew you were right. The cafe really was amazing. The grove was lit up with warm lighting, and everywhere you looked was all soft and homely. Unlike Azul's cafe, this place was much less formal making it seem more down to earth.
Perhaps he should make a few tweaks to Monstro Lounge? Just to fit your tastes?
"Angelfish, I'd hate to break it to you but it's getting rather late. I'm sure Jade and Floyd are already waiting for us back at the dorms." Azul cuts in nonchalantly, a cool smile on his face. You turned to gaze out the window, seeing the sunset and the sky darkening. You nod and swiftly seize Azul's gloved hand in your own, bidding Rielle goodbye.
"Ah, I see it really is getting quite late! Feel free to visit soon!" Rielle bids you goodbye with those words, as you and Azul walk out of the quaint little cafe.
Once outside, Azul reflexively rests his hand on the small of your back, and you lean in, your head resting on his chest. It was silent for a while, both of you just enjoying the comfortable silence before Azul pulled you into an alley.
"Azul? Is something wrong-" He abruptly interrupted you and smashed his lips against yours. Azul backed you up against the wall, his hands finding purchase around your waist as you snake your arms around his neck. Minutes pass before he finally draws back and presses his forehead to yours, a heavy flush on his cheeks. You took this time to admire his dishevelled appearance, which was quite a rare sight. His glasses were crooked, the lipstick Vil picked out for you was smeared across his lips, and his vision was dazed.
"Angelfish...wouldn't you rather spend time with me instead...?"
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J.L | JADE LEECH :
He's in absolute denial.
Jealousy. What use would such petty and trivial emotion as jealousy serve? Jade already knew you were bound to him. Despite his distant and cold demeanour, you somehow pushed your way into his heart and fashioned yourself a nice little home.
Furthermore, Jade liked to consider himself as someone who was rational and level-headed. He was always in full command of every situation he was put in. The eel was cruel, merciless, and uncompromising. Him getting jealous? Jade Leech, jealous? It was a laughable thought.
Nonetheless, as he stood behind the lounge's bar, he couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart while he glared holes into the back of Floyd's head. His gloved hands were grasping onto a teacup a little too tightly. He was supposed to serve you tea.
Tea, that he brewed and prepared personally for you, ensuring that each step was meticulous and precise so that the drink was properly suited to your preferences. You, his precious pearl, who was too preoccupied running your fingers through his brother's hair.
The lounge's air conditioning had broken down, and at some point, Floyd apparently decided that it was far too hot and dumped an entire cold smoothie over his head. Now, you were fussing over the eel's damp hair, trying to get the liquid and chunks of fruit out of his locs.
Crack! Jade looked down to see the cup split in half, the warm tea he prepared for you now spilling onto the floor. Azul would've probably had his hind if he found out the eel broke such an expensive and delicate piece of china. Despite that, he had a much pressing issue to focus on. Jade's inexhaustible patience had finally run out, and he concluded that enough was enough.
He quickly poured you a new cup and walked up to the booth you were sitting in. He held a hair dryer in his left hand and the tea he had carefully made for you in his right. Finally, you had stopped fretting over Floyd and instead focused your attention on him. When you spotted him approaching, your face lit up. A smile grazed his lips for a brief moment. How lovely you were.
"Darling, why don't you take a break. Here, it's your favorite. Let me handle this." Jade murmured, running a gloved hand along your cheek. You leaned towards his touch, smiling, and took the cup from him. "Thank you, Jade. I managed to get most of the fruits out but his hair is still so wet."
"Not to worry my pearl, this isn't the first time this happened." With a chuckle, Jade plugged in the hair dryer and grabbed Floyd's chin, forcing his brother to face him.
"Now...allow let me help you, brother dearest." Jade muttered, the corner of his eyes crinkling as a sharp grin spread across his face. He set the dryer to the highest setting and directed it straight at Floyd's face. When the heavy gust of wind hit Floyd, the eel clamped his eyes tight. He whined and attempted to push Jade away, but the latter just refused to let go.
Yes, Jade is most definitely not a jealous man.
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F.L | FLOYD LEECH :
That should have been him. The eel glared at Grim who was seated in your lap. Your lap that he loved so much. Your lap that he used as a pillow every time he was slacking off at Monstro Lounge. Your lap that was supposed to be for him, not that skrunkly little cat.
To make matters worse, you were currently feeding Grim some tuna you cooked up yourself. Oh, the nightmare.
The reason? Grim had recently scored a perfect score on his exam without cheating this time! and you wanted to reward your companion for his efforts. Still, Floyd couldn't understand why you had to feed him. Isn't the baby seal big enough to feed himself? He was pretty sure he saw Grim inhale an entire tray full of food in seconds!
Growling, Floyd stomped towards your table and plopped down beside you. He huffed and started side-eyeing the cat who was dozing off and slowly chewing the tuna in his mouth. To Floyd's despair, you were much too preoccupied with fawning and cooing at the tiny brat to notice your moody lover. This was absolutely unacceptable. He demanded your attention.
"Shrimppyyy..." Floyd whined, smushing his cheek against yours, basically asking for attention. Taken aback, you jumped and whipped your head around to face him, finally acknowledging his presence.
"Floyd! How are you? How'd that test with Crewel go?" You smiled at him and moved in to peck both of his cheeks. This made him brighten up for a bit before Grim interrupted the moment.
"Oi, henchhuman, I'm out of tuna here." Grim drawled, patting his paws along your arms. Sighing, you picked up your utensil and turned away from Floyd. However, before you could bring the spoon anywhere near the container with Grim's food, Floyd's hand snatched the utensil away from you.
"Floyd, what are you-" You were cut off when he pushed a bento box towards you.
"Shrimpyy~ You gotta eat! I cooked that myself y'know." He beamed at you, draping his long arms over your shoulders. You opened the lid and gasped at contents of the meal inside. Floyd had made a Butter Salmon Bento, and you'd be damned if you didn't think it looked good. "Floyd, this is incredible...thank you very much!"
"Of course~ Here, I'll handle the baby seal for you." Before you could even say anything, he snatched Grim from your lap and tossed the cat onto the table in front of him.
"I'll even feed him for you!" Floyd laughed and took some tuna, pressing it forcefully on Grim's mouth. Grim, understandably, was reluctant to open his mouth. Floyd, on the other hand, was not about to give up so easily.
The eel hummed and leaned forward, gritting his sharp teeth as a deranged smile grew across his face.
"What's wrong baby seal? Eat it." Floyd hissed, malice oozing from his lips. Grim flinched and decided to just bolt, taking the tuna with him. "Like hell I'm doing that!"
Grim scutters away as you watch with a sheepish smile on your face. Floyd laughed contentedly and sprawled across your lap, staring up at you in adoration, his mission finally accomplished.
"Hehe~ Will you feed me next, shrimppy~?"
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Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!
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munson-blurbs · 5 months
Text
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Day 1 of TUI-Mas
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, breeding kink and lots of it, fingering, oral (f! receiving)
WC: 2k
Divider credit to @saradika
October 1998
Your head rests on Eddie’s thigh, cheek pressed against the cotton sweatpants serving as his pajamas. His fingertips dance along your shoulder in comforting circles, the other hand digging into a bag of peanut M&Ms and dropping several into his mouth at once. 
Harris is sleeping in bed, his little eyes having drifted closed halfway through his second bedtime story. You’d laughed softly, kissed his forehead, and closed the door as quietly as you could. 
On the TV screen, Phoebe Buffay prepares to give birth to triplets while Joey’s learned that his sympathy pains are actually kidney stones. 
The candy shell crunching ceases as Eddie speaks over the characters’ dialogue. “You ever think about that?” he asks, jerking his chin towards the monitor. 
“Having three babies at once?” You wrinkle your nose, tugging the fleece blanket up a bit higher. You adjust your position so you can see his chocolate-smudged lips. “Only in my nightmares.”
Eddie laughs, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his doe eyes. “N-No, just, like…having a baby?” His front teeth scrape his lower lip nervously while he awaits your response. 
You shrug. “Yeah, I mean, I definitely want to have kids with you. And I know Harris is dying for a sibling to play with,” you add teasingly, though your words are true. He’d come home from school last week claiming that his friend Joshua’s mommy was having another baby, lamenting that it wasn’t fair because Joshua already had a sister. “I can’t wait to add some more Munsons to our little family.”
“Okay, yeah,” Eddie nods, swallowing thickly. “So, um, what exactly are we waiting for?”
The question makes you sit up, pushing yourself with your palms, so you can look him in the eyes. “We’ve only been married for a few months…” you trail off, unsure what to say next, but it doesn’t matter because Eddie leans in and silences you with his lips on yours. Tiny, passionate kisses, his smile rendering him unable to draw them out longer. 
“I’m ready whenever you are,” he murmurs, nose gently bumping yours. Four fingers are tucked behind your ear, his thumb delicately grazing your cheek. “There’s no rush, ‘kay? No Baby Munsons until you’re totally on board.”
“What if I’m ready, too?” You kiss him, body buzzing with nerves just from having this conversation. An excited giggle slips out, and you drape your arms over his shoulder to straddle his waist. “What if I want to start trying?”
Eddie throws his head back and laughs; he swears he’s hit the jackpot with you. “Then I say…to hell with those pesky birth control pills.” He kisses you again, peppering them all over your face and neck. “C’mon, Sweetheart. Let’s make a baby.”
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It’s a few weeks later when Eddie breezes through the apartment door after work, kicking off his Reeboks in the general direction of the hall closet. His weary expression shifts to a joyous one when he sees you walk out of the bedroom with a knowing grin on your face. 
“What’s that little smirk for, hmm?” he teases, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him. An autumn chill sticks to his leather jacket; you shiver as the cold fabric brushes your bare arms. “And where’s the other troublemaker?”
“Harris is at Wayne’s for the night,” you tell him, stepping back slightly and briefly lacing your fingers with his before grabbing something from the back pocket of the jeans you immediately changed into after work. “This little line means that I’m currently ovulating,” you quickly explain, not wanting him to confuse it with another important test. 
Eddie’s grin could split his cheeks in half. “So…so that means…” his eyes shine bright with anticipation. “It’s baby-making time?”
You giggle at his phrasing. “Yes, Eddie,” you confirm through peals of laughter. “It’s baby-making time.”
Eddie’s lips crash onto yours in an instant. He groans into the kiss, hands instinctively grabbing your ass to pull you closer. Your own fingers grasp his jacket by the zipper teeth, tugging it off of his body and letting it fall to the floor unceremoniously. His hands snake underneath your sweater, eyes widening when he touches supple skin rather than the underwire of a bra.
“Mhm,” you bite your lower lip and nod, gasps of pleasure caught in your throat as his thumbs brush against your nipples, giving them a small tweak. He grins at your reaction, more than satisfied to be catching you off-guard. 
“Y’know,” he muses, not straying from your breasts, “I won’t be able to be so rough with ‘em once I knock you up. They’ll be extra sensitive, and I gotta take care of my girl.” The sweater is a hindrance, burying the treasure he so desperately desires, so you shed it without a second thought.
He stares at your bare torso for a moment, enthralled with your body even after all this time. Like a vampire lusting for blood, his teeth sink just below your areola, nipping and sucking sloppily until the underside of your breast is dripping with his saliva. “C’mere,” he growls, taking a breath and leading you into the bedroom.
You’ve never seen Eddie this hungry for you; his lips and tongue and hands trailing along your curves and leaving goosebumps in their path. It’s as though he can’t decide where to touch you and with what.
All articles of clothing–both yours and his–are long gone by the time your bodies tangle in the bedsheets. The only word you can manage is his name, so you whisper it over and over again. 
Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. 
His body towers over yours, middle finger gliding up and down your folds, gathering your slick and rubbing deliberate circles on your clit. Your trembling legs fuel his own passion, his erection flush against his tummy and leaking pre-cum. 
“You need me inside you, Sweetheart?” Eddie coos, letting his finger drift down towards your wanting hole. When you nod pathetically, unable to string together a sentence, he laughs. “I’d normally make you beg, but seeing as you’re gonna be carrying my baby, I’ll let it slide.” He lays down, hissing at the glorious pressure against his cock. “In fact, I’m gonna make sure my girl gets everything she needs tonight.”
Soft lips wrap around your swollen bud while his middle and ring fingers stretch you deliciously. You buck your hips, using his face to draw you towards what you suspect will be your first of multiple orgasms. 
The only sound lewder than your wanton moans is the schlick of his fingers pulsing in and out, soaked with your arousal. You let yourself float away, relishing in the comfort of his control. 
“F-Fuck, Eddie…” you sputter, arching your back and hooking your grasp into his curls. He smiles against your pussy as you clench around his fingers. 
“Thassit, honey.” He breaks his rhythm for a split second to encourage you, resuming his pace like he’d never stopped. Maybe it stems from his musical prowess, or maybe he simply knows your body that well. You love this man, and you swear you’ll do anything to give him a baby.
You come undone moments later, taking everything you need without hesitation. Eddie lowers you from the high and kisses down your thighs, your arousal smeared on his pursed lips.
“Need you to do me a favor,” he says, shifting his body so his eyes gaze directly into yours, pupils blown out with lust. “Need you to bend your legs and hold onto your knees. Can you do that for me, Sweetheart?”
You nod, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them tight. Eddie’s breath hitches, taking in the view of you, glistening and on display just for him.
“Fuckin’...perfect…” he groans, running his hardened length along you, slowly pushing in. “Gettin’ to watch your pretty pussy cream my cock…shit…’s my favorite fuckin’ sight, I swear.” He grips your hips so tightly that it pinches a bit, pain indistinguishable from pleasure.
He’s entranced in a way you haven’t seen before, despite the multitude of times he’s already had you in this position. Your eyes fill with emotion when the realization hits: you and Eddie could make a baby right now. A little being that’s half-him and half-you. 
“‘S everything okay?” he asks, one hand moving from your waist to gently brush away a rogue tear slipping down your cheek.
“Mhm,” you answer, laughing and crying at the same time. “I’m just really happy that this is for real. No more pretending; we’re actually doing this to expand our family.”
Eddie swoops down to kiss you, a few soft pecks punctuated with a long, intimate embrace. “I love you so much.” He says it as a promise, not a simple statement. “You’re mine and I’m yours, and I never want you to forget that.” He resumes thrusting, pulling almost all the way out and leaving just the tip inside you, before sinking back in. The movement draws a whine from deep within you, and he wears it as a badge of honor. “That’s my girl, my sweet girl, gonna have my baby.”
Sweat trickles down the bridge of his nose and drips onto your chest between your breasts. He bites his lip in determination. “Shit, ‘m close already,” he mumbles, smiling as he adds, “kinda wish I didn’t have to cum so we could stay like this, but, uh, that would defeat the purpose, huh?”
Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you giggle, which only further spurs him on. “You get tighter when you laugh, fuck, babe.” But he’s laughing with you, stopping for a second to get his bearings. “I gotta stay focused! Trying to make a baby over here!” His palms flex on your knees before gripping them again.
“I’m sorry!” You’re not, and neither is he, the two of you soaking in the comfort of being with the person you trust completely and love wholeheartedly. 
“Okay, okay,” he says, wiping perspiration from his brows with the back of his hand. “Let’s get back on track.” His thrusts resume slowly as he once again grows harder within your walls, gradually quickening in pace. 
Everything is overwhelming; the way he feels inside you, the sweetly possessive hold he has on his legs, the unexpected comedic interlude, the potential to create a new life. Passion sweeps you up into its embrace and you come with a strained cry of your husband’s name. 
“Want your baby, Eddie. Please.”
Eddie’s brown eyes shine at your desperate plea. He nears his own climax, hair sticking to his forehead and his guitar pick necklace thumping against his chest. “‘M right there, Sweetheart; you’re milking my cock so good.” His biceps tremble as he gives a final few pistons of his hips, spilling into you harder than he ever has before. “Fuck, gonna give you a baby, take it.” 
You shiver when he growls the last two words, savoring the movements until they abruptly stop. With panting breaths, Eddie slides out of you. 
“Don’t move,” he gently commands, holding up one finger and using the other hand to hold his softening dick. He scrambles for a free pillow and tucks it underneath your hips. “Helps ‘em swim faster,” he sheepishly explains. “Or, like, hit their target a little better.”
“Hit their target?” You ask through a bemused grin. “Is that the proper medical terminology?”
Eddie rolls his eyes playfully, returning to the bed and nuzzling into you. His frizzy curls tickle your chin when he rests his head on top of one breast. You both lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks again. 
“Can’t wait to see if it worked,” he muses while fighting a yawn. “Whatever happens, it felt special, y’know?”
You know. Your hand flutters over your abdomen; Eddie drapes his over yours soon after. The two of you fall asleep wrapped up in one another and an intoxicating blanket of hope. 
--
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Sorry, I meant to send an ask yesterday, but I got carried away 😅
So what about ut, us, uf and ht (you can ignore the last one if you want to don't worry) and how they would be with a reader that hides the fact that they're physically hurt.
Maybe they went hiking with the skellie, and they tripped and pretended that it was only a little scratch when days later they see quite a big wound that's infected.
It's a bit gross, so it's okay if you don't do it, don't worry :)
Have a good day/night and be safe
-💀
UnderTale, UnderSwap, UnderFell, and HorrorTale skellies react to a reader hiding that they're injured
you had gotten in a little tussle with a fallen branch walking home. you were completely oblivious, and tripped right over it. it hurt to walk on, and you soon noticed it swelling. it wasn't... sprained, right? nah, of course not! you brushed it off, thinking that it would be just fine in a day or two.
but until then, you might want to put some ice on that.
and so you did. for three days, with no sign of improvement. you tried keeping it a secret, but then your s/o came home while you were putting ice on it, right on the couch beside the door, and...
UnderTale:
Sans:
-he walks into the house, immediately heading for the couch.
-"hey, y/n, i'm ho- you alright? what happened to you?"
-"oh! sans, hi, i didn't expect you home so early!" you wave frantically to draw his eyes away from your ankle.
-"yeah... work was slow, so i came home. whats going on? you're acting weird."
-"pshh, don't be silly, nothing's wrong! absolutely nothing!"
-he sighs.
-"my whole shtick back in the underground was that i can see peoples stats. your HPs lowered, you're acting really awkward about your leg, and you're trying to hide an ice pack from me. i know, i saw it when i walked in. so, im gonna ask you again. whats going on?"
-you sighed. he caught you, he always did.
-"i dont know what's up. I tripped a few days ago and my ankle just started swelling. I'm gonna give it a few more days before I see a doctor, just to see if it heals on its own."
-"alright then," really? that's it? not going to insist you see someone? well, that's great for you! "I'm going to grillby's. wanna come?"
-you nodded your head.
-"cmon, let's take a shortcut."
-he took you to the fucking ER.
Papyrus:
-you look up after hearing the door open and you heard a crash.
-he had gone grocery shopping, apparently, because his bags were sprawled on either side of him on the floor.
-his jaw was only half hinged, that's how bad you scared him.
-as in it dropped. almost fully.
-he suddenly runs to your side (re-hinging his jaw on the way) and kneels by your side.
-"HUMAN, what ever is the matter? is it serious? does it hurt? will it need stitches? should i take you to-"
-"Paps! i'm okay. i think it's just sprained, i'll be alright," you tries to reassure him.
-"SPRAINED? oh, HEAVENS no, i must take you to the doctor right away!"
-you sigh. "Papyrus, it isn't that big of a deal. i'm sure it'll be alright in a few days."
-"absolutely not! what if it's worse than you think? it could kill you!"
-he really thought a sprained ankle could kill you? he may be clueless about human injuries, but at least he cares!
-you don't have too much time to reply before he picks you up, puts you in the car, buckles you up (because heaven forbid something ELSE happen to you, ESPECIALLY under his watch) and brings you to the ER.
UnderFell:
Sans:
-he literally did not notice.
-he grumbles a quiet, "hey," before trotting upstairs into his room.
-it isn't until several days later when the pain has worsened and you cannot walk on it that he asks what the fuck is going on.
-you explained that you had tripped a few days ago, and it got swollen, and you thought that it would just go away, but it's been getting worse and worse since it happened.
-"fuckin' idiot," he groaned. "i'm dating a goddamn moron! alright, get in the car. i'm takin' you to a hospital."
-he's groaning the entire way.
Papyrus:
-as soon as he lays eyes on you, he sighs.
-"what did you do this time?"
-what the hell did he mean, 'this time'? he CANNOT be holding you accountable for that one time you got a concussion! that was HIS fault!
-"hey! you BETTER not be talking about-"
-"about the concussion," he cut you off. "yes, yes, i'm aware, you believe that incident to be my doing. however, i can GUARANTEE that this is not! now, tell me what happened. i expect a full explanation."
-you rolled you eyes and told him, feeling a little pissed off about his crossed arms and tapping foot, although you couldn't fully blame him. the whole situation WAS a little silly, now that you have to say it out loud.
-he scoffed when you finished talking. such a silly thing! why the HELL didn't you immediately see a doctor? swelling is NEVER normal!
-how did he, a skeleton monster who had gone most of his life without so much as seeing a human, know more about human anatomy than a fully grown human adult?
-and how did he, an esteemed member of the royal guard, end up in a relationship with such a fool?
-"get yourself looking decent. we are visiting the hospital to get you proper treatment."
-'looking decent', you looked fi-! no, you didn't, nevermind.
UnderSwap:
Sans:
-"hey, y/n, Alphys let out training early, so i'm back! what are you doing?"
-you scrambled to hide the ice pack and hike your pants back over your ankle. "oh, uh. . . nothing," you said sheepishly in reply, a fake grin appearing on your face.
-"oohhhh, no no no. i know that look. you're hiding something. best be honest now."
-damn him! how DARE he know you so well!
-"i think i did something to my ankle," you muttered.
-"hmm. . . let me see."
-he walked over and inspected your ankle for a few moments.
-"it looks sprained. when did this start?"
-"a few days ago. i tripped and it started swelling."
-he gave your ankle ankther quick look.
-"and why didn't you tell me?"
-"well, i thought it would go away at first. i was going to tell you, if it didn't. i was just going to wait a few days."
-"well, there's no need! i'm taking you to a doctor."
-he helped you stand and let you use him as something like a crutch, so you wouldn't have to put too much weight on your injured foot.
Papyrus:
-you look up to see him standing, eyebrows furrowed (you know what i mean sans does it in the main game) looking at you.
-"anything you want to tell me?"
-"ah, nothing. . . i'm just gonna go to a doctor if this doesn't start getting better."
-you knew the look he was giving you. he wanted to know what happened.
-"i tripped a few days ago and my ankle started swelling. nothing major. it's just a little sore."
-"mmm. i'm sure. you have five minutes, then i'm taking you to a doctor," he said as he laid on the couch beside you.
-"no, Paps, there's really no need-" you were interupted by snoring. but you knew that didn't mean you were off the hook. he would be awake in five minutes EXACTLY, whether you were ready to go or not.
HorrorTale:
Sans:
-he kinda just stands there for a few moments after he sees you with the ice pack.
-ice pack means something's wrong, because he doesn't see food around, but his skull injury makes figuring anything else out difficult.
-ice pack. . . on your ankle. . .
-it doesn't matter what's wrong. he just knows something is. so, he comforts you! in the only way he knows how!
-which is a BONE-CRUSHING hug.
-and because you're sitting, and he's standing over you, leaning down to hug you, it's a very awkward angle. leading to a lot of bones jabbing into uncomfortable places.
-you know you can't really do anything to get him off of you, so you just wait it out.
-"i'm alright, Sans. it isn't anything major. i'm about to go to a doctor!"
-he was going to tell you to anyway. you just got that part out of the way.
-his time in the underground under Undyne's rule made him very paranoid about the health of those he loves, so no matter how big the injury, you MUST see a doctor.
-it's not up for debate.
-he drives you because he doesn't want you to have to put any more strain on your ankle.
-(should he even have a drivers license? questionable...)
Papyrus:
-he has a puzzled look on his face.
-that. . . he suspected that wasn't a good sign.
-"y/n. . . i don't suppose you want to tell me what is going on?"
-"oh," you nervously laughed. "no biggie. just tripped a few days ago, it kinds hurts. if it doesn't feel better tomorrow i'm seeing a doctor."
-"hmm. i shall hold you to that."
-you laughed. you bet he would.
-spoiler alert, he did.
(a/n: sorry if this is totally inaccurate to having a sprained ankle, it just seemed like a good scenario, and i was too in the writing groove ((once i actually started)) to do much research)
412 notes · View notes
fanaticsnail · 6 months
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Three, Two, One: Part 1 of 3
Hello beautiful people! I have decided to turn this part one-shot into a two-part series - SPECIFICALLY because I wanted it to be happy and playful, but it is leaning into a super HARD angst and I didn't want to spoil the playful vibe 👌
Word Count: 3,928
Warnings: mentions of tobacco, nicotine and addiction.
Song accompaniment: Know You Girls, Honey, Boy Toy
Fic Request Prompt by: @terarria-sunflower. Masterlist Here.
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“Three, two, one,” you glanced down at your rotund, egg-shaped ticking timer as it began to shake as soon as the final number fled softly from your lips. A small smirk pulled at the corner of your mouth as you gazed at the blonde chef as he placed the relinquished cigarette butt within his ashtray; closing the metal lid to keep the cinders away from tainting the blue ocean with its waste.
“Down to the last second,” you muttered again to yourself, shaking your head while opening your journal and jotting down a new number within the pages. You flipped the yellow ribbon back within the page and shut your book; the several ribbons swaying at the bottom of the journal as you wrapped it around in its bound leather strap to place back atop the table.
As ship’s chronicler, you were tasked with notetaking and scribing the comings and goings aboard the Going Merry; a task which you undertook with complete precision and gusto. You had everything down to a fine craft; from documenting strategic battle maneuvers, to how many engagements in combat Zoro completed before his blades needed repair, down to exactly when the ship would need to pull in to resupply the kitchen with fresh ingredients, and the vessel with fresh medical supplies.
Your attention was being currently drawn to cataloguing the kitchen, searching through the prior menus Sanji had completed to determine which items took priority to resupply. As the kitchen was the blonde chef’s domain, you were spending far more time with him currently than the other members of the crew. You adored how passionate he was about food, and reveled in his eagerness to offer flirtations with you. Originally, you paid his flirtations very little mind; drawing conclusions that his words and gestures was built into his character as his occupation moulded him.
However, as his flirtations became more bold with his subtle smirks and playful words directed towards you; you decided it would be amusing to return his gestures, primarily out of boredom in your travels. Immediately, you found entertainment with how flustered you could make him, how his eyes would twinkle widely and his chin would fall to the ground to have his face shrouded by his blonde hair to shield the rising blush from your view.
Gentle touches of his hands brushing against yours as you passed him your journal to look over your kitchen restock notes, leaning yourself towards him over the kitchen benchtop with a playful bite of your lip while you asked him a mundane question, sitting in silence as he lit a cigarette and gawked at you while you read over your notes; crossing your right leg over your left and absent mindedly brushing your toes against his outer thighs with a light smirk.
It was truly a joy to see him flustered. He knew all of the right words and actions to pose towards others in playful advance, but never quite knew how to process the same unbridled gestures when they were reflected back onto him.
As Sanji walked his away from the wooden frame of the Going Merry’s kitchen bay-window, he turned towards you and smiled his beautiful, cuspid smile as you. Your heart began to swell at his attention, prompting you to look up at him half-lidded and cock your head to the side.
“What are you doing in here, beautiful?” he asked, continuing his approach.
“Oh, just cataloguing in the log book while enjoying the view,” you taunted him back with your playfulness, shamelessly raking your eyes over his torso, down his legs and back up to meet his gaze; “the ocean outside the window is nice to look at, too.”
He paused his movement, a small flustered panic behind his eyes before his smile spread further to his face, “You like what you see, then?” He gestured his hand over his body and arched his eyebrow upwards in question. He was wearing his blue and white-striped shirt with his black tie clasped firmly around his neck; sleeves fastened down at his wrists, secured by black buttoned cuff-links.
Your smirk drew into a broad smile as he continued to step closer to you, you confirming: “yes, chef.”
He allowed a large laugh to escape his parted lips, shaking his head at your brazen sanction.
“You hungry?” he asked once his laughter teetered off.
“Barely,” you shrugged, rising to your feet from your place sitting above deck, “but if it means spending more time with you, I’ll accompany you here the kitchen and aid your preparation for-,” you paused, reopening your journal and skimming it’s pages before locating the correct passage; “-Luffy’s second afternoon tea before dinner?”
He again chuckled at you, beginning to roll up his sleeves by unbuttoning his cuffs; “alright then, come and help me. Keep me company.”
You smiled again at him before reaching down towards the table and retrieving your egg-shaped timer from atop the wooden surface and holding it firmly within your hands. Sanji furrowed his brows, looking at the timer in your hands; “what’s with the timer?”
“Oh,” you shrugged, patting him on the shoulder as you moved past him, “nothing that should concern you.” He cocked his head up at the comment, intrigued by your nonchalant comment. You placed the object back down beside your journal, fixed to remain in its non-ticking nor shaking state for the interim as you readied yourself to begin aiding Sanji with the formulation of the meals.
“Okay then, let’s get started,” he began after rinsing his hands thoroughly, turning to his work station and bringing out several ingredients to ready preparation for Luffy’s snack; a two course meal with several sweet and savoury elements that were not too difficult to execute. You began to lather your hands with soap to wash them before you made your way to aid Sanji with food preparation.
While your back was turned and your egg timer and journal were left unattended; Sanji felt he had no choice but to peruse through the pages, finding your latest entry with the yellow ribbon: the colour he knew represented his entries for your chronicler-duties. Your journal was by no means taboo nor out of bounds for any members of the crew, but as Sanji searched through the pages; he was secretly hoping to find some semblance of minor infatuation towards him.
You both flirted with each other incessantly and constantly aboard the ship, and while travelling from port to port. Sanji couldn’t help but to be wooed by your words and actions, hoping that what began as entertainment from boredom grew as much for you as it did for him; hopefully fanning the flames of a small crush on your crewman into potentially developing into a deeper relationship.
You placed an apron over your head and secured the strap around your waist to stop any food items from falling to your clothes accidentally as he watched you over his shoulder; before hunching back over to find anything of the romantic nature between the pages.
He skimmed over his routine, noting several lines of ingredients he neglected to inform you in need of resupply already added to the journal. He sighed, contented and relieved to see you were effortlessly able to pick up on his subtle substitutions he used to cover the need for the missing ones; grinning at the knowledge of how attuned you were to his actions and efforts as chef aboard the vessel. In his daily schedule, he noticed several small crosses flurrying throughout his comings and goings; numbers written next to each cross.
He furrowed his brows and continued skimming over the pages, passing now onto the green-ribbon section: Zoro’s routine, noting his schedule had no crosses nor numbers. He deepened his frown and looked to the orange, red and blue ribbons for Nami, Luffy and Usopp’s schedules and noticed no crosses on their schedules either. Was this the answer he was looking for? He needed to know, and he needed to know, now.
“Hey, love?” Sanji spoke up, alerting you of his attention. You creased your brows at him, noting he had opened your log-journal and was reading his pages; “what are all these marks?”
Wiping your hands on a hanging blue and white kitchen towel, you turned to approach him; leaning your elbow on his shoulder as he turned his body into you, keeping his sights held to the pages of his schedule. You tilted your head towards your notation and narrowed your eyes before turning away from the pages to look at the blonde chef to your side.
“Those are your cigarette breaks, Sanji,” you smiled at him, reaching up to move his blonde hair away from shielding his eyes from you, “I’ve timed them.”
You turned away from him towards the kitchen counter and began sorting through the stock and comprising them into an order of need: items that needed to be cooked and items that only required assembly.
Sanji turned his eyes back to the page and creased his brows at the notes, looking over and acknowledging truly how many times he sought out the nicotine hit within his day to day activities. Although he didn’t manage to secure what he was hoping for, he remained perplexed by the sheer number and time throughout the day he received his dose of nicotine; almost angry at himself for the total amount.
“I have that many?” he asked, rethreading the ribbon back into the pages and putting the journal back atop the counter next to the egg timer.
“That you do, chef,” you nodded, continuing to sort out the piles of ingredients and readying a knife to begin peeling. Sanji hummed, looking over at you as you began peeling fruit with the edge of your knife. He emptied his pockets, placing his tobacco pouch, ash tray and lighter next to your journal before equipping himself with an apron to join next to you.
You both continued to prepare Luffy’s second afternoon snack together, laughing at something one another said and flirtatiously advancing each other with nothing more than a gentle graze of a shoulder or a brush of a fingertip as you continued working with one another. Once you had completed the task, Sanji removed his apron and began reaching toward his tobacco pouch and ash tray. A sly and mischievous look fell over your features.
“Can I ask you a question, chef?” you asked in a slight hint of mischief in your tone, prompting him to halt his retrieval of the pouch for a moment. You removed your apron and hooked it over a brass kitchen rail.
“Anything for you, love,” he smirked at you, turning around to face you and scrunching up his nose playfully. You tilted your head, walking closer to him and gazing up into his eyes.
“What is it about cigarettes that have such a hold over you?” you asked him curiously, “obviously it is the nicotine addiction, but is there more to it than just that?”
Sanji broke his sights away from you and looked off to the ceiling in thought with a small hum.
“You know,” he began with a nod, turning his eyes back down to meet your gaze, “I hadn’t given it much thought until now, truthfully. Maybe the rush? Taking a moment to myself? Could just be the chemical endorphins or the adrenaline, really.”
You nodded and downturned your lips in thought with a shrug. Sanji smirked at you, half-lidding his eyes mischievously before asking; “Why? You got a theory?”
“Frankly, I think it’s primarily about the nicotine,” you nodded, a wince of a smile falling to your face, “you should really think about breaking the habit, it’ll shorten your life and ruin your palate in the long run.”
You flicked your index finger over his chin playfully, a flirtatious grin rising again to your lips; “gotta keep that talented tongue in peak shape for when we get to the All-Blue. Can’t have everything tasting like ash now, can we?”
A small pink hue rose to his cheeks as you allowed a small giggle to escape your lips. You turned away from him to collect your journal, revelling at how flustered you made the flirtatious chef.
“You make a fine point, beautiful,” he broke his face back into a smile, “how do you suggest I get my fix? Save my palate,” he added with a small chuckle.  
You halted your step and quirked your head to the side before turning back to face him again.
“Let’s look at natural remedies,” you pondered, looking upwards at the ceiling, a list forming in your mind; “for adrenaline, why not spar with Zoro? He’d likely appreciate the amount of practice he could get in.”
Sanji hummed, stepping his body closer to you, “doesn’t really serve the endorphin release now, does it, love?”
You giggled in response, again looking towards the chef in thought, “you could go for a quick dip in the ocean? Breath control and adrenaline with that one.”
“And strip off my clothes multiple times a day?” he shook his head with a large grin forming, “I hardly see that as a helpful alternative. Again, it misses the endorphin release and doesn’t meet the accessibility criteria.”
You furrowed your brows and pursed your lips in thought. He chuckled again, turning back to face the table to retrieve his tobacco pouch and lighter, beginning to assemble a cigarette; rolling the tobacco within wafer-thin paper and adding a thin filter port to the end of it. He leant against the table, hips aligning with the height as he reclined back into it. As he brought the filter end to his lips, a stroke of genius struck you. He rose his lighter towards his lips and made to cradle the flame to ignite the end, halting at your next words.
“Kiss me,” you uttered softly with your head swaying as you held a small shyness to your voice, a tone Sanji almost missed. His eyes widened, mouth falling slightly ajar as his cigarette clung to his bottom lip.
“What was that-?” he asked in an utterance slightly more elevated than your own. You looked up at him with a small playful grin as you took your bottom lip once again within your teeth to bite it.
“Breath control,” you said more confidently, beginning to step closer towards him, “adrenaline release,” you raked your eyes over his body before settling on holding his eyes firm to you, “endorphin rush? I’d say a simple kiss would meet the criteria.”
His breath hitched within his throat at the suggestion, prompting him to reach up and remove the cigarette from between his lips and place it on the table behind him.
“You’re saying I can kiss you-,” he confirmed with a small hint of both delight and apprehension, “-for as long as I want?”
You giggled, reaching past him to retrieve your egg timer, “I’ll allow you to kiss me for as long as you need to.”
Sanji quirked his head at your actions, widening his eyes at the egg timer in your hands before a small chuckle fell from his lips. You stepped within his personal proximity after searching his eyes for any apprehension to do so. Meeting none, you settled comfortably in the space between his legs as he remained reclined against the table.
“And judging from your routine: with your mornings, you take about two minutes per cigarette,” you nod your head, rolling the timer within your hands, “your afternoon ones are down to a solid three and a half to four,” he nodded, taking your wrists within his hands and looking down still at the timer, “your before dinner cigarette is about one and a half, because you’re desperate at that stage,” he snickered at your comment, you giggling again in tow.
“And my after dinner one?” he asked you in a breathy, almost frantic voice, “surely I take my time with that one-.”
“-The after dinner one, you usually take around three,” you cut him off with a small giggle, “but your before bed one,” you nudged your nose under his chin to bring his gaze up to meet you once more, “that’s where you take your time with a solid five,” you whispered suggestively close to his jaw.
A small whined-groan escaped from him as he began to chase your face to seek to capture your lips in a kiss, meeting only the tips of your fingers pressed against his lips in response. He furrowed his brows and flittered his eyes down towards your hand and back to gazing intensely into your eyes.
“Hold on, big boy,” you warned him, scrunching up your nose playfully, “I have to set the timer first, or it’s all for naught.”
He nudged your hand away with his chin and a small growl escaping his lips in displeasure at your apprehension. You chuckled at his eagerness, allowing your hand to fall onto his cheek in a gentle caress.
“Surely not for the first one,” he commented hoarsely, desperately as he began reaching down to take the timer from your hands; only to be met with your hands closing over the egg-timer and holding it firmer, “just a taste-.”
“-It’s part of the fun,” you smile at him, floating your gaze over his face; falling on his lips before rising up again to meet with his eyes, “otherwise it won’t work and you’ll be back to square one."
He hummed in response, almost in a low whine as he pressed his forehead against you and grazing his hands down your ribcage to settle against your hips; “and what do you get out of aiding me with my fix?”
“I get the knowledge,” you whisper against his jaw, grazing your lips along his skin slowly, “that I’m the one bringing the rush to you, Sanji. I’m the one making you feel good.”
“Set the timer,” he growled firmly, eyes darkening with his pupils blown out and intense with desire, “four minutes.”
“Oui, chef,” you whispered with a small giggle in anxious anticipation, pulling your lips away from his jaw and turning towards your egg timer; winding it to the appropriate duration.
“Okay Sanji, the time starts: n-,” your words are halted by his the soft but intense collision of Sanji’s lips overzealously engaging in entanglement against your own. You squealed slightly at the immediacy of his reaction, your eyes wide as you stared at his closed eyes as his brows creased in intensity with your cheeks held firmly within his hands.
You reached slowly behind him to place the timer down on the table and raked your hands over his back and slid your fingertips against his flesh and holding his hips firmly while closing your eyes. You shifted your lips against his, opening them to deepen the kiss and allow him to glide his tongue behind your entrance to dance with your tongue. You gasped as soon as the contact was made, feeling a sharp piece of metal beneath the muscle, attached firmly to his frenulum. A piercing? Sanji has a tongue piercing?
He smiled into the kiss, feeling your shock as you brushed your tongue with his. He retracted the muscle from your mouth and began to place rougher kisses, assaulting your lips while raking his fingers through your hair and cradle your head further against his own. He rotated his head to continue the deep and rough engagement, prompting a whimper-like moan to fall from your lips in response.
As he remained reclined against the table, you wavered in your mind how much more adrenaline you could spike into his bloodstream to elevate his heartbeat further. Deciding to not withhold your ministrations; you pulled yourself further against his hips and hooked your right leg over his left and guide his left hand from your hair to wrap around your thigh. A groan fell from his lips as he reclined against the table further, unbreaking the kiss from your lips as he eagerly began to support your weight against him with fervour.
He pulled his other hand from your hair as you laced your hands behind his neck to hold him further into yourself. Just as you tilted your head and made to rake your fingers into his hair while he reached down to grip the back of your other thigh to hoist you up against himself fully; the egg-timer began to rattle and shake, alerting you the duration of the kiss was to be drawn to a close.
The low groan released from Sanji’s lips followed by a whimper as you began to pull yourself away from him was as delicious as the meals he would readily present to you, filling you completely with his unbridled need being absolutely met by your body.
“Please-,” he cried his protestation and need for you softly as you made to break from his lips, “please I need more.”
You smiled while he chased you with his lips as you pulled away from him, unlacing your leg from circling his hip and pulled your arms around his shoulders. You pressed your hand to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid pace pummelling harshly at his breastbone, pushing him away with a gentle but firm touch.
“You can have more,” you cooed at him, looking down through your eyelashes to see his desperation on full display over his face; his breath unevenly falling from his mouth, “in an hour and twenty minutes, before dinner.”
“For how long, then?” He gasped, moving his hands from your hips to lace his fingertips within your own, “surely not just for one and a half minutes.”
You giggled at him, looking at the beautiful picture you had painted on the man of a canvas before you: his eyes blown out with lust and desire, his heart beating with the rapidity of an over-excited puppy anticipating its first treat, his lips bruised from the prior collision against your own.
“You are out of breath,” you nodded to him, gesturing to his lips with your chin, “you have a spike of adrenaline, gathered by how rapid your heart was beating just now,” you rubbed your thumb to circle over his own, “and hopefully the kiss gave you as much of a rush of endorphins as it did me,” you giggled with a nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.
He nodded, looking down at the ground with a small smile tugging at his slightly swollen lips.
“Thank you for helping me with breaking my addiction, and,” he murmured, bringing your hands upwards to brush his lips against every digit; paying them all as much attention as the other with his lips, breaking only to utter; “for helping me restore my palate. I’m going to look forward to receiving my next hit from you.”
You felt a small rush of butterflies falling over your chest as he bore a wide grin against your knuckles.
“Okay, chef,” you said, releasing your hands from his and bringing your right hand up to caress his cheek, brushing your thumb over his lips to tenderly sooth them, “let’s go bring the captain his second afternoon tea.”
“Oui, mademoiselle,” he groaned, pressing a small and playful kiss against the pad of your thumb, prompting a small whimper to fall from your own lips this time; a smirk readily rising to his cheeks as he took the balled piercing from beneath his tongue and twirled it against his teeth absent mindedly.
Part 2
446 notes · View notes
ylmla · 11 months
Text
⁠!! ☆ ghost, soap, price, gaz and könig being a father (gn reader, platonic hc, reader is a child, separate).
ghost
relaxed dad
you are literally a mini copy of him, like you both are when you are anywhere: 🕴️🕴️
he's also an angry and quite protective father, but, he doesn't get angry when it comes to you messing something up, he only becomes a beast if he knows some classmate of yours is bothering you or teasing you 😡😡
in general Simon is an amazing father, although he is a very busy man he tries his best to be present in your life, giving you paternal love and giving you a healthy education different from the one he had in childhood, he strives for you to have a healthy childhood <3
soap
playful father 😬😬
he keeps telling you jokes all the time and you're like: I'm trying to finish my homework now 🙄 (although most of the time you join him in the jokes
if you are introduced to 141, ghost will become your other dad, soap teaching you the pranks, Simon is there lecturing jhonny saying: "(y/n) are a just a kid, they will get hurt 🤦🏼‍♂️🤦🏼‍♂️"
ghost teaching you that you can't do such a thing because you might get hurt while soap tells you to do it cause it will be fun 🤪
soap: leave (y/n), life is only lived once!!!
ghost: THEY'RE GONNA FALL, JOHNNY 👿👿
price
hardworking dad.
he never thought about having children because of his work, it is difficult to balance personal life and work — until you're born and he forgets that.
you are definitely his world and he protects you from everything!!!
tells you bedtime stories
bad grades at school???? no problem! he pats you on the shoulder saying it's ok and you don't have to worry because you can make up the grade, and he helps you study, and when you make up the grade he praises you all proud of you <3
gaz
proud dad
you are best friends you always play video games together, watch movies, gaz literally turns into a child when he is with you.
usually draw, and you give him several drawings as gifts, but there's one in particular that is his favourite: a drawing that you and him drew together, he takes it everywhere, when gaz is on a mission he always checks to see if the drawing is still with him.
bro secret handshake 🤛😎
könig
doting dad
HE LITERALLY PRAISES YOU FOR ANY RIGHT THING YOU DO !!!!!!!!
you scored high on your exam? he's the happiest dad in the world
at first he was scared of you being scared of him, but even when he was wearing his army gear and mask he thought you would be scared, but you looked at him and said "why didn't you tell me you were a hero??😮"
he was more surprised than you by your unexpected reaction, so he just fed his big imagination (because he knows that a child's mind is very different from an adult's mind)
könig almost crying with emotion when you say you want to be a hero like him when you grow up 🤧
very short, if you want me to add anyone else ask me and I will do it.
922 notes · View notes
moriahwritez · 3 months
Text
Mizu saves you
(Mizu x Fem Reader)
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₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
Summary: Your a princess that were chased by men from your home town. As you were seeking for help, a samurai twice as tall as you came to the rescue. 🤭💕
Warning: (Bit dark content)
How’s everyone day doing? I’m sure it’s doing well💜Tonight I will like to give out another story to read through and enjoy. Pls let me know for Mizu or upcoming characters which are my crushes such as Abby, Kuvira, Revy or so and so fanfics. I have to figure out a story for Abby still, but since I got requests from others, I’ll try to get those started without waiting too long . Besides that, please support my stories. Tysm☺️
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A samurai stayed in a brothel at the city for quite some time. But this time it was for the night. She didn't want anyone to come towards as she was in her own time thinking. She never let anyone allowed no company to start causing a problem. Whatever she was doing, you were off to leave her alone til she was done. In the meantime she heard footsteps along the way, trying to ignore. "I said no company please," she says sternly. There was a princess from the main town that have been in some sort of trouble. After all it was you who was in a dangerous situation. "Please sir…” You stutter at your words. Then start freaking out immediately. “I really need your help!" You grab them by the arm. At first you thought it was a man because how well they dressed in a masculine-samurai way, but from the voice, it was sure a woman. “I've been chased by several of men. Please if you can help me before they take me away!" You cried out, tugging piece of cloth that was from the samurai's outfit.
The samurai, known as Mizu, her tone soften quickly when she heard it was a cry for help and that it was literally serious. She turn to face you below, adjusting her glasses. "Stay calm dear. Who's after you actually?" She tried her best to calm you down, but the look on your face tells her that this wasn't the right time to start explaining literally everything and get right to the point. "Look, I'm not sure about their names. They just started attacking few of my bodyguards while I was in my room. I'm a princess coming from this town. And I need someone's help!" You start tearing up, releasing emotions out of your body. Mizu takes note that something was up and that she was willing to gain trust in you.
"Alright. You stay behind me from now on." She says like this type of behavior wasn’t so serious XD. She brings your wrist, turning you around to get behind her back as Mizu takes out her sword slowly, ready to take off. She lead you out of the brothel, walking down to a staircase from outside, seeing if the men were ever gonna approach. You hold onto the back of her arm as you slowly followed her without making a sound. Once you two look around the city in night, few shadows comes from a block away. "There! Right there!" You yell pointing at them. In a quick swift, Mizu drag you to a nearby wall bit far from the men, as she covers your mouth, leaning closer to your height. She didn't want you to make such noise to ruin the time where you two can easily get killed by several of men in groups. From the way Mizu shuts you down, she was literally pinning you to the wall by grabbing your wrist up on the wall with one of her hand as the other on your mouth, keeping you still and steady as possible. She slowly peak out to see if they were coming at her. Few of the guys notice, not realizing it was you two at first, til they start walking by.
You mumble, freaking out when you heard further footsteps. "Stay here. Remain quiet." Mizu says, drawing her sword steadly as few of the guys saw her. She was not having you take your life away from the night. So thankfully, she was that person, the only samurai to save you. (Give you at least another life). The fighting begun when the first men comes running at Mizu with his dagger. She didn't hesitate but to duck under him and slash him from behind. He fall on the ground, done. You didn't notice another guy came as bunch of them runs towards Mizu. She did whatever she can to attack each of them. And one of the men went towards you, trying to kill you. You did your best to throw rocks at him, a way to protect yourself. The guy had his dagger ready to jab in you as he slash you. Your arm was blocked from the dagger and felt the pain of the blood spilling bit. You scream in horror. Right away, Mizu strike the men through the heart, letting him fall on the ground as she bend down to take your hand.
Your face turn pale as you saw all the blood everywhere from every men Mizu attacked. You was so focus on that more than what Mizu was trying to say. A bit blur on your mind, you tried hard not to faint. "Are you hurt, dear?" Mizu asks, still trying to held up her hand at you. You were so speechless, you couldn't think what else to say. "Um..." reaches slowly at her arm. Mizu pulled you up holding you still. Your knees were buckled, as you slowly fainted to the ground. But Mizu catches you before you ever landed straight down.
Few hours later, back in the brothel, you were slightly awake, laying down on a purple mat. Looking around, you can see Mizu carefully pulling up her sleeves to see your wound from the arm. She slowly takes your own sleeve away from this deep scar. Felt like your arm was close to get slice up. Before Mizu was able to open the med kit, she sees your eyes watching her. "...you again..." you said quietly.
You've been unconscious for a little while now since the crazy incident happened earlier. Luckily, Mizu kept calming you down, looking at you; with nothing but a soft expression. "I'll take care of your arm. Must stay still and rest. I got you covered." She says, gently taking her time to stitch your arm, which you wince from the pain. You were able to see her for a quite a few seconds before falling back to a deep sleep.
You thought to yourself: (Who was this…this samurai that…saved my life?)
*Aaaha so glad I figure what to write for tonight :D I was so lazy not writing more stories as I'm suppose to. Been having a passion on writing stories for idk how long. So, enjoy this welcoming fanfic of my beloved, Mizu)
Please reblog would be appreciated!
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seravphs · 10 months
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA ATSUMU x FEM READER
When you started dating Atsumu, you swore to never be the annoying gym couple, and yet here you are. 
wc — 700
tags — fluff, most unserious relationship ever 
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The soft grunts from the other side of the gym were really getting to you. Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, you repeat to yourself - until another bitten off curse draws your attention to the man determined to be the death of you. 
Across the row of barbells, Miya Atsumu brings the hem of his shirt to his face to swipe off the drop of sweat clinging to his chin. In the mirror behind him, the muscles of his back ripple with each movement, causing your throat dry up.
As soon as you register what you’re doing, your brain stutters and you immediately whip around, trying to ignore the low chuckle behind you. 
Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing and he was enjoying it, eating up every second of attention you were giving him. 
Gritting your teeth, you focus on another set of push ups, keeping your core tight. It’s working, for a bit, your mind clearing as all your energy goes to keeping you in the proper form. All of that effort goes to shit when he walks past you. 
Legs.
That’s the first, and for several minutes, only thought in your head.
Thighs.
You want him to crush you between them.
His muscles could have been sculpted by the gods, and the effect it has on you - well. You had to check if you were still breathing.  He laughs again, and you try to discreetly draw the back of your hand against your face in case you were drooling. 
In front of you, Atsumu, the bastard, purposefully lowers himself to the floor in an effortless split.
Oh, god.
He was flexible. You tear your eyes away from his broad chest, ignoring his Cheshire cat smirk. He got you again, but you were determined not to let it happen a third time. 
This was a competition, and you were going to win. Two could play at that game.  
Running sucks. It gets you sweaty and hot and tired faster than any other exercise, and you swear the treadmill has it out for you. It never works quite right when you’re on it, but damn if you don’t look good with your hair bouncing. You’re well aware of how amazing you look in the glow of runner’s high. 
Someone else is, too. Behind you, Atsumu trips over his own feet and crashes into the rack of barbells, earning him the ire of multiple frat boys. Even as he’s being scolded, he looks love struck and dazed, eyes only for you.
It’s incredibly gratifying. You waste the entire session flirting with Atsumu while he continues to be horrifying, distractingly hot in your general direction.
The audacity of him.
 Of course, someone has to ruin it. Atsumu isn’t the only one noticing how good you look running. 
As you’re checking the miles, a hand shoots out to hit the off button. At first, you turn with a smile, expecting it to be a mistake, but it slides off your face instantly at the condescending next words. You slow to a stop with the treadmill. 
“Hey, sweetheart. Need a few tips?” 
“No, thank you.” 
“Come on, babe-“ 
“Not your babe.” 
“Don’t be like that. Why don’t you give me your number?” 
“She said no, dude.” Atsumu comes up behind you, heat radiating off him. He’s not close enough to touch, and yet, his solid presence is more than enough to make you feel more secure. 
“I didn’t ask you,” the random gym rat snaps.
Atsumu rolls his eyes. “She wouldn’t be interested in ya anyway. Word of advice, buddy? Ya should just give up now.” 
“How do you know that?” 
“Because-“ He yells in surprise as you, sick of this conversation, pull him down for a kiss. Initially shocked, he melts into you as he always does, bringing his hands up to your face to cradle your cheeks tenderly. For a minute after you break away, you just lean your foreheads together, staring into his eyes. 
Then you wrinkle your nose. “Ugh, you’re sweaty.” 
“Babe!” 
You turn back to the man with a grin. “I’m not interested because he’s my boyfriend.” 
Atsumu smirks behind you, arms crossed.
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wannabespacesmuggler · 5 months
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D.D. | Shane's Girl
Part Three | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee
Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks
Word Count: 1.5K
Author’s Note: It has once again been a hot second. I love this idea so much and want to continue it. I'm really glad that all of you seem to enjoy this little fic as well. Did anyone else watch the new Daryl Dixon show? I liked it a lot more than Dead City; however, the final episode felt super lackluster, especially with all of the build-up. Maybe that's just me. Anyway, let me know what you guys think of this one, if you want to be added to the taglist, or just want to ask me a question.
Extras: Playlist
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“Like this?”
Your voice pulls Daryl out of his quiet concentration. He’d been so busy at work, sharpening the tip of the crossbow bolt in his hands, that he’d almost forgotten that you were sitting with him. Daryl’s gotten used to being alone. Hell, most of the time, being alone is better than the alternative -- being in the company of Merle Dixon. However, you are certainly nothing like Merle Dixon. 
Daryl coughs awkwardly -- trying to ground himself back in reality. It was early evening when you wandered into the Dixons’ makeshift camp. You’d finished all of your chores relatively early for the day and desperately wanted to do something instead of sitting down by the lake and gossiping with Andrea and Amy. You had attempted to find Shane, in the hope that maybe the two of you could take watch together. Since the world fell apart, you haven’t really had any time to actually talk with Shane. You can’t blame him though, his concern for Carl and Lori is admirable. And you know that if the situation were reversed, Rick would do the same and would make it his life’s mission to look out for you. You just wish your boyfriend could extend some of that comfort to you. 
That’s how you find yourself across the fire from Daryl, sharpening the crossbow bolt you made together. Daryl’s eyes shift from your face to your hands, to assess your progress. His eyes widen slightly once he notices how you’re holding the knife in your hands. You stop moving once notice the change in Daryl’s features.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Daryl watches as you physically shut down-- as if you’re preparing for him to be angry over a simple crossbow bolt. His jaw clenches at your reaction. He is angry, but not at you. No, he’s angry because he understands. He resists the urge to ask you who it was that has managed to make you feel so small and, instead, moves to the other side of the fire so that he can sit beside you.
“Nah, you didn’t do anything wrong. Just hold the knife like this, ‘lright?”
Daryl physically shows you how to hold the knife away from your body while you’re sharpening the bolt. Your eyes follow his movements for several moments before replicating them. Daryl watches you intently, nodding whenever you look over for his approval.
“Yeah, jus’ like that.”
A small smile plays at the corners of your lips at the sudden softness in Daryl’s voice. You distract yourself by watching Daryl’s careful work with the crossbow bolt in front of him. It’s obvious how much the craft means to him -- it’s quite mesmerizing to watch.
“You’re really good at this. Did your dad teach you?”
Daryl stops for just a split second and draws in a breath. He rolls his shoulders back, trying to rid himself of the thoughts that come to mind at the mention of his father. His first instinct is to lash out and shut down -- and he probably would if it were anyone else; however, you have been nothing but kind to Daryl since he and Merle arrived at the makeshift camp. The idea of chastising you for your harmless curiosity makes his stomach turn. 
Daryl clears his throat and finally releases the breath he was holding. He resumes carefully sharpening the bolt in his hands.
“I taught myself.”
You nod at his explanation, trying to ignore his change in demeanor. Just as sudden as the softness in Daryl’s features came, it is replaced by his usual indifference. It’s as if for just a split second you were able to see through the brick wall that Daryl has erected around himself. He lets his defenses down just long enough for you to see that there is warmth behind the cold front. 
“Well, it’s really impressive. I don’t know anyone else who can use a crossbow or make their own arrows.”
Daryl nods and attempts to keep a straight face, fighting off a small smile.
“It’s really not that hard. My daddy had a load of hunting gear in our garage and with Merle always getting locked up, I had a lot of time to practice.”
You resist the urge to ask him more about his past. Based on his previous reaction, you can tell that it’s not a topic he’s comfortable with. Before you can change the subject, a rustling in the surrounding woods grabs both of your attention. You freeze in place, expecting the worst; however, Daryl springs into action. He grabs his crossbow and places his body in front of yours -- in this position, he’s managed to shield you from the source of the noise.
Daryl readies his aim and you brace yourself for a potential fight; however, before he can release the trigger, you grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks. Instead of a walker, Shane and Lori emerge from the woods. The smile on Shane’s face fades into a deep scowl as he takes in the scene before him. 
“What the hell is going on here?”
His words are laced with venom as his eyes narrow at Daryl, who still hasn’t lowered the crossbow. You give Daryl’s arm a gentle squeeze, silently pleading with him to not escalate the situation. He shakes off your touch but lowers the crossbow. You move in front of Daryl, hoping to diffuse the situation.
“Relax Shane, Daryl was just showing me how to make some arrows.”
Shane ignores you completely. His eyes don’t even leave Daryl as you speak.
“I told you to stay the fuck away from her.”
His voice raises and Daryl notices how you shrink away from Shane as he takes an aggressive step forward. His eyes narrow at Shane, who continues to dismiss you. Now he knows who made you feel so small. A surge of anger rises within Daryl, along with the need to protect you -- which is quickly becoming a common feeling for him nowadays. Daryl mimics Shane’s actions, taking a step forward and sizing up the man in front of him. 
You watch the scene play out before you and before either of them can throw the first blow, you place yourself in between the two seething men. 
“I approached him. I couldn’t find you so I asked him for help, okay? Where did you go?”
Shane finally turns his attention away from Daryl and focuses on you. He places his hands on his hips as he looks down at you. Daryl’s brow furrows at the sight -- this isn’t the posture of a loving boyfriend. No, right now Shane looks like a parent scolding a child. He lets you take control of the situation; however, he anxiously observes your interaction with Shane, ready to jump in if Shane’s anger gets the better of him. 
“I was helping Lori look for Carl.”
Anger is still evident in his voice, but he seems to have settled down to a simmering rage. Daryl raises a brow at his explanation. He doesn’t say anything, but he finds it very unlikely that there would be anything less than a full search party if any of the children in camp actually went missing. Daryl shifts his gaze to Lori who is still standing on the edge of the woods. Her face is flushed, her hair is disheveled, and her clothing seems to be thrown on haphazardly. It seemed like she and Shane had gotten into some trouble out there, but neither of them have any blood on them. They both, however, are covered in dirt -- hell, Shane looks like he just rolled around the forest floor.
Oh. Oh.
Daryl looks at you, hoping you just came to the same conclusion. You know Shane is lying. In your search to find him earlier today, you noticed that Carol was watching Carl and Sophia play down by the lake. And as much as you want to call out his deception, you also don’t want to start yet another fight. 
You let out a sigh and give Shane a solemn nod. Lori uses this moment to excuse herself from the conversation -- muttering something about finishing the laundry. Shane shoots Daryl a final glare before grabbing your shoulder and pulling you away from the archer. Daryl watches you both walk away. Eventually, Shane releases his hold, leans his head down, and whispers something in your ear. You nod at whatever he says before casting your eyes toward the ground. Shane, on the other hand, stands up a bit taller at your reaction and walks off confidently. 
Daryl clenches his fists as you look in his direction. Embarrassment washes over your features once you notice that he is still watching you. Daryl frowns as you drop your head and walk off in the direction of your tent. You shouldn’t be embarrassed -- Shane should. He may have promised Shane that he’d stay away from you, but Daryl decides, at this moment, that he doesn’t give a damn. Nobody gets to treat you like that.
Taglist: @darylsl0ver@minervadashwood@hotgirlsshareaccounts@taterbbbug@dreamtofus@youcantstandit @ajlovesdilfs @prettywhenibleed @luvsvnlqt-things @evie-beanie @strnqer@marina-isabella@lissanovak@elissanatok@1tsk1tty@moejoeflow@ceoofdisappointment@jewellthebooknerd @callsignwidow @genderless-ghosty-boi
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itsthatmff · 4 months
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Request for metal bat/garou / flashy flash reaction after he made s/o cry with their word. Like really rude or angry that hurt s/o feeling
Oop- so a part two on the making reader cry series 🥱
Ik I took my time..was quite busy. BUT I HOPE Y’ALL HAD A NICE NEW YEARS EVE!!
When they make you cry Pt. 2
Included: Metal bat, Garou, flashy flash
Gn!reader
Requests are open!!
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Metal bat
I Can’t imagine this guy ever being rude to you
Like he treats his little sister like royalty so I believe he’d be no less with you
But let’s say he had a REALLY REALLY bad day
And you just happen to want to tell him about your day because you saw something really funny
“Could you just shut up for once. Seriously.”
You try asking him what’s wrong but he keeps dismissing you and it makes you mad. Mad to the point where you’re crying from frustration.
He doesn’t notice your tears at first but once he does he immediately regrets it. 
He’d look at you all worried and wouldn’t know how to stop making you cry so he stands there next to you not knowing what to do with his hands. Should he wipe your tears? Pull you into a hug? Damn zenko never taught him this stuff.
“Please don’t cry- I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry!”
Thinks he’s the biggest jerk and asshole for making you cry and won’t forgive himself.
Will explain to you that he had a bad day and apologize for lashing out on you.
Will give you the best treatment afterwards and spoil you rotten to make you feel better
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Garou
Getting into feisty arguments and fights with this guy was not rare in your relationship. You’d sometimes even go days without speaking.
But this time was different. You both got into a fight which escalated a LOT. Garou’s self control got out of hand and he said some things that hurt you like nothing ever did. It felt like he stabbed right into your heart.
Of course you started to cry. Was that really the way he thought about you?
He realized himself that what he said was a bit too much when massaging his temples out of frustration, “ah shit..look Y/N forget what I said.”
But that would just make you more upset. How could he simply take back something this severe?
He couldn’t stand seeing you cry in front of him. You really were one of his only weaknesses.
He’d pull you into a tight hug and wouldn’t let go even if you demanded to.
“Not letting ya go..y’know I love you right?”
You both are too stubborn to admit one of you was in the wrong but he still apologizes in his own way.
Lots of physical affection. He will make sure not to lash out on you like that again
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Flashy flash
While he tends to avoid unnecessary conflict especially with his lover, he simply won’t stand still if something bothers him - even if it’s you.
Sometimes you could just be a little too much for him, a little too overbearing.
And Flashy flash was one to bluntly say what was on his mind. There was no need for sugar coating.
So when he said that you were being too much on him, it came off harsher than intended.
You were immediately drawing to conclusions, thinking that he wanted to break up with you. It was only natural for tears to fall down your cheeks.
Flashy flash certainly got surprised. This was the first time he’s ever seen you in such a vulnerable state. The first time he’s seen you cry.
Without a word he’d immediately wrap his arms around you, something rather unusual for him to do even as your boyfriend.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
He’d mutter a little apology and let you cry yourself out.
Little words would be spoken to eachother but you’d both understand what the other felt. And you’d both try to better yourselves for the other.
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