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floralpascal · 1 year

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Lines Crossed

Summary: Ghost realizes that he needs you more than he thought and makes a risky trip to your room while trying not to get caught.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.4k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only, mdni!)

Warnings: kissing, unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), secret relationship, Ghost realizing that he's absolutely whipped

A/N: The idea of Ghost being whipped just took over my mind and this is what came out. This was so much fun to write that I'm thinking about making this a mini series looking at various points in their relationship

Illicit Indulgences Series Masterlist

There were lines Ghost didn’t cross.

He didn’t get involved. He didn’t let himself care. And he sure as hell didn’t let himself need someone.

For you, though, he seemed to be willing to cross every single line imaginable whether he liked it or not. He had gotten involved, telling himself then that it was just a one-time thing. He would get his fill of you for a night and he would be done, finally able to get you off of his mind. But that hadn’t been how it had gone down. Having you once only let the hold you had on him dig in deeper, settling in his bones until he found himself in your bed again. And again.

With each secret night spent in your room or his, a shitty hotel or a secluded backroom, whatever this was with you pulled him deeper into the unknown. His thoughts drifted to you even when you weren’t in the room. He found himself being more protective of you in the field. He began to check in on you enough that Soap had finally said, “Styx will be fine, Ghost. She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.” Soon, he had to finally admit that he had crossed the second line. He cared.

The third line…

Ghost groaned in frustration, running a hand down his face. Staring into the darkness of his room for hours with sleep evading his grasp, he was starting to grow both restless and frustrated. Having trained himself to fall asleep under any conditions in order to scrape together any amount of sleep he could while in the field, his newfound difficulties falling asleep were an unwelcome surprise. It had plagued him for the last month, making him markedly more irritable - enough to draw the entire team’s attention. He had blown off Price when he had carefully broached the subject, asserting that there was nothing wrong at all. Lie.

It was your bloody fault. It was your face that kept him up at night in one way or another. It was the way you looked when your head was tipped back, your mouth open in a silent scream as he fucked you. It was the way you looked out in the field, your strong shoulders square and hard eyes trained forward as you held your gun and swept a building. It was your pained grimace as Ghost tried to stop the bleeding from the bullet you had taken to the stomach a year ago.

His head filled with a mix of scenes of bliss and scenes of horror, both of which you were the star of. Either way, it kept his brain whirring enough to ward away sleep. His mind was a whirlwind, fast and screaming and disorienting with the thought of you.

You were barely fifty meters away from him right now, your own room merely on the other side of the corridor. He couldn’t believe he was imagining walking down to your room now, in the middle of the night with everyone else in their own rooms right down the hall. It was dumb and reckless and-

And the thought alone made him feel better.

The thought of your skin on his, your hands buried in his hair, and your mouth on his was like a forbidden salve to his irritation. Having you under him, so vibrant and alive, chased away all the scenes of you in danger that his mind seemed to love to conjure up these days.

Irrational thoughts plagued him now, too. What if something was wrong with you? What if you were hurt? Forget the fact that they were on a secure base or that he had seen you only hours earlier, it didn’t matter to Ghost’s brain in the dark like this. Though he logically knew that his thoughts were irrational figments of his overactive mind, his body didn’t seem to be getting the memo.

It was like he wasn’t convinced you were safe until he saw you himself. Until he felt the plush of your skin under his fingers.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell,” he grumbled, practically dumbfounded by his own decision, as he forcefully flung the covers from his body. He grabbed the balaclava from his nightstand, slipping the soft cloth over his face before throwing a random shirt over his bare torso.

The corridor was empty at this time of night, but Ghost stayed vigilant anyways. He crept toward your door, eyes on the other gray doors that housed the rest of the 141. He had never been this bold, this reckless, as to try to slip into your room when everyone was asleep in their own rooms right beside yours, usually limiting your nights together to when the other guys went out to a pub or split up to go on leave. If anyone caught him - your superior - slipping into your room in the middle of the night, there would surely be hell to pay. Yet, he couldn’t stop.

With one last look at the empty, monochrome hallway, he found the handle to your door and slipped soundlessly into your room.

Despite the fact that he had been quiet, you seemed to sense the intrusion. Your eyes snapping open, you pushed your top half up from the pillow, your body tense like you were ready for a fight. You leaned forward and flicked on the bedside lamp.

Your eyes landed on Ghost and he watched as you relaxed again, your sleep-heavy eyes softening as they held his gaze.

“Ghost…” you whispered, clearly as astounded by his presence in your room as he was.

Everything in him screamed that this was a bad idea. That he should go back to his room before he made any more bad decisions. But then you smiled at him, easy and warm and inviting. No bad decision could look like that.

“You okay?” You asked, voice light and laced with sleep. It was concern, though, that sat behind your words. Concern for him, genuine and raw.

Ghost felt something in him crack at that question. Something he knew he wouldn’t come back from.

With two quick strides across your room, he crossed that third line.

In the pale yellow light of the lamp, he pulled the balaclava from his head, letting the cloth fall to the floor. He was already climbing above you in the bed as your eyes snapped wide and you scanned his face for the first time, taking in his features above you. Him. You finally saw him.

Ghost’s breathing picked up as you lifted a hand to his cheek and ran a thumb over his cheek. He had wondered what you would look like if you ever saw him without the mask. Somehow, he had never never expected that you would look at him so tenderly. It seemed wrong that anyone could look at someone as cold and hardened as Ghost like this. But, fuck, it was doing things to him.

When he couldn’t hold himself back anymore, he slammed his lips into yours. You returned the kiss with a fire that made everything worth it. The blood. The explosions. The secrecy. The sleepless nights.

“Am now,” he mumbled against your lips. He couldn’t say anything else, he could only let the fire he had for you take over and burn everything left in him.

You melted into his affections, immediately grabbing onto his shoulders as he stripped your mouth bare. The little sounds you made spurred him on, making him feel better than he had the entire night. Forget sleep, he could live solely fueled by this.

Then, your hands slid up into his hair, tugging at the mask-flattened strands. A groan fell from Ghost’s lips as he started to fumble for the hem of your shirt, needing you freed from it immediately. He needed to feel you against him, as close as you possibly could be. Needed you wrapped around him in every possible way.

Need. Need. Need. It was a terrifying, unstoppable feeling.

As you both discarded your clothes, your hands desperately searching for skin, Ghost couldn’t help but think of how apt your nickname was. Styx. A mythological river, threatening to pull him under, the waters that he was drowning in also making him damn near invulnerable to all else in the world, save for his one spot of vulnerability. You.

The Styx was believed to be at the edge of the earth and the underworld, you had told him once. Being with you felt kind of like that, he supposed. Like he was at the edge of reality and the mythological. Something he never thought he would have compared to the reality of you underneath him.

Your lips wiped the fucked up worries from his mind, your hands grounding him in the raging current.

You let out a moan as Ghost slipped two fingers into you, trying to get you ready for him as quickly as possible tonight. He clamped a large hand over your mouth as he started to pump his fingers in and out.

“Keep quiet, love,” he purred into your ear, knowing exactly what his low, gravelly voice did to you. Your fingers came to clamp down on his shoulder in your desperation. “We don’t want any interruptions.”

You nodded, your eyes locking with his for a moment before they fluttered closed. He watched you like this, lost in bliss, and tried to commit the image to memory. He would store it away for another cold, lonely night when he couldn’t be here with you, when sleep evaded him.

He so desperately wanted to hear you - to hear the way he could make you scream out his name - but he knew it wasn’t possible right now. Your muffled groans and the way you tipped your head back as he curled his fingers into you would have to suffice.

“So wet for me, love,” he whispered into your ear as he increased his pace, feeling how close you were to the edge as your velvety walls fluttered around him. “Were you thinking about me?”

You jerked your head in a nod, his hand stifling another choked moan from your lips. The sincerity in your movement sent his ego soaring in a way he had never experienced before. Fucking hell, he had never experienced anything like this before. You had a frightening power over him, a grip on his very being that was so deep he didn’t think he could detach it and still survive.

It was terrifying and thrilling and oh-so wonderful.

You shattered under his touch, your pussy clenching around his fingers as you rode out the waves of pleasure he was bringing you. Your hand grasped at his forearm, searching for anything that could steady you.

When you came down and released him from your grip, your eyes fluttered back open. Through your haze, your eyes found his, a want deeper than just lust pouring from your expression. He couldn’t take it anymore. He fucking needed you.

Ghost tore his hand away from your mouth before he crashed his lips to yours again, all heat and fervor. You met him halfway, pushing up to run a hand through his hair. You had done this before in the dark, but it felt even more intense now that you knew what it looked like. What he looked like. You weren’t kissing a faceless man, you were kissing him.

“Simon…” you whined against his lips. “Please.”

Years ago, when you had first met, he wouldn’t have believed that he would ever hear you like this. Usually when you talked, your voice was strong. Unwavering. Fit for a battlefield. To hear you beg for him like this, your words strained, broken, and laced with desire, was something reverent.

He buried his cock in you in one smooth stroke, his lips still on yours. It was still a stretch to fit him, but it was always a stretch. From the very beginning his pace was brutal, his hips slamming into yours over and over. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise so he could hold you in place while he hit the spot deep inside you that always had you breaking for him. He knew he had found it when your legs boxed his hips in and your hips jerked up to meet his thrusts. Your heels rested on his ass, pulling him impossibly deeper into you.

You were squeezing him so tight as he pounded into your sweet cunt that for the first time all night, his head was clear. All that existed was you and the growing heat in his stomach.

Ghost dropped his head down to your neck, his teeth nipping at the soft, delicate flesh at the base of it as one of his hands released its hold on your hip to find your clit. He knew exactly what to do to send you over the edge again, exactly how hard to press, how tight of circles to draw.

“F-fuck, Simon, I’m g-gonna-” you stuttered out, unable to finish your own sentence. But he knew. He could feel how close you were, the tension drawn tight that was about to snap.

His own rhythm was growing sloppy, the pleasure about to take him under. With a few more calculated thrusts, you came once again, your whole body spasming around him. Your hands clawed at his back as your pussy squeezed him so hard it took him with you. A zap of electricity raced down his spine as he released into you, hot and thick. He fucked it into you, so deep he was sure you would still feel him at breakfast tomorrow morning.

He was so fucked. He had crossed every line and now there was no turning back. There was no stopping this anymore. He needed you. Maybe it was wrong to hope that you needed him just as much, but he did.

Ghost panted against your collar, letting the soft, methodical way you drew circles on his scalp pull him back to reality. Back to you.

He pulled out and rolled over onto the bed, pulling you with him. After taking a few minutes to clean you up, he pulled you to lay on top of him. With his arms around you and the feel of your steady breathing against his chest, sleep finally found him and pulled him under.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon riley fanfic #my writing

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elmhat · 4 months

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Dreblr Survey Results!

First of all, thanks to everyone who took part in this survey. There were 152 responses in total! This post just covers the statistical side of things; there will be more posts later for the long response questions.

Most popular places

Arctic Commune (64.9% of voters)

Pandora's Vault (63.6% of voters)

Community House (58.3% of voters)

Listen, you don't have to tell me, I already know I forgot to put Church Prime. I'm very aware of my stupidity. But these results—do you even know how strong you have to be to overpower Pandora's Vault? In dreblr? Damn. That was also a last-minute thing, Pandora's Vault was winning.

Fandom behaviors

I'll admit, I didn't give the best options for this question, so thanks to everyone who wrote their own response. Apparently we're all big readers, so that's nice for us! We're also more likely to be a writer than an artist, but far fewer of us are writing meta. All in all, this looks like a pretty good spread!

Joining the fandom

The most popular time to start watching the dsmp was between New L'Manberg and the Disc War Finale, but honestly, it's split into fairly even quarters between the main "seasons" the server was active. To those who joined after the finale streams, hi! I hope you're enjoying your stay!

Thoughts on the finale streams

I'm actually a little blown away that no one rated the finale streams a 1. Not a single person. There's nothing more I can say other than this response is overwhelmingly positive.

Is the fandom dying?

It looks like the answer is no! 82.9% of us are still moderately interested in the dsmp or more, and for almost a third of us, it's consuming every part of our brain. I don't know about you, but for me, this is actually something I really needed to see.

That's all for this post, but there will be more results soon for the questions with longer responses. I'd strongly recommend sticking around for that, some of them are hilarious. Well done for making it through the stats!

As an aside, well done to the 35 people brave enough to put their name to what they said in this survey. Because some of what they said was *ahem* very interesting.

#long post #dreblr #random elm thoughts #elm polls

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muneca-lemon-steppa · 5 months

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Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 6

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader, 6.2k words

Warnings: Violence, Cursing

A/N: GUYS I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. But it is finally here. After this we only have one more chapter, so y'all I'm just so emotional. Thank you all for your patience and all the love you have shared. I'm so grateful. Special shoutout to @hoodeddreams13 for letting me chat them up to discuss this chapter because I was STRESSED. Anyway, sending all my love to you guys. Enjoy! - Mo

Alfie had convinced himself that he was doomed to hell for all of his evil deeds in life. The lying. The bloodshed. The rage. But perhaps he had done something good in this life. Maybe God finally took pity on Alfie Solomons. Perhaps the Angel Gabriel had put in a good word for him. He must have, because there was no other reason that he got to have the blessing of you nestled in his lap, face buried in his neck, small hand tangled in his unruly beard. He had dreamed of this forever, and now it was finally true. He never thought that he would get to have this. Warmth. Love. Safety. "Alfie? Darling where is your mind at?"

He felt your lips at his neck, and sighed, "Nowhere sweet. Just enjoying your company."

"Hmm… Alfie, I wish every moment could be just like this. I don't want to be anywhere else but here in your arms."

He shifted beneath you, to bring your face to his. Nose to nose, breathing in one breath. "My sweet girl, whatever you wish, you shall have yeah? You can stay here, right next to me. And we'll never leave this spot."

"We'll grow old here in your chair. I on your lap. Till the ages go by. And the vines and trees grow around us. And all of Camden will fall away and here we will be together."

"Exactly right my pet. Exactly right."

As if the Somme had suddenly emerged, Satan's army came hurtling through Alfie's door, with Sabini at the helm. The gun fire lit up the room, and all Alfie could hear was your screams of agony. In his arms you were no longer there. The silken white dressing gown he had just been caressing was stained crimson, and the color in your face had turned to ash. Alfie, who has never been lost for words, who has always had something on the tip of his tongue, had nothing come from his mouth but horrified screams. He kept shaking your shoulders, hoping to God that you would wake up, but your limp limbs gave nothing to life. He screamed and screamed your name, until his lungs gave way.

In a sudden jerk, Alfie sat up in his freezing room, his bare chest covered in sweat. The room was bathed in a light blue from the bright moon outside his window. He was alone, save Cyril on the floor by his bed. The house was quiet, and he was alone. You weren't there. Your lifeless body wasn't there. It wasn't real. None of it was real. The fear that took over his body from the dream shouldn't be so potent anymore. He'd had the same dream every night for the past week. And every night he woke up with his heart coming out of his throat and tears streaming down his face. And every night he would stop by the house you were put up in, patrolling around it with the man stationed there, ensuring that every door was locked.

The plan Tommy and Alfie had concocted had become a bloody mess across the city. Tommy’s men had marked every business and alcove the Sabini’s even had minimal connection to. One by one, they were blown up, burnt to the very foundation. Alfie’s boys had been performing psychological warfare as well. The major Sabini players had been followed by phantoms, never being truly alone, until they were slaughtered in their beds, door frames set ablaze. Everyone in Camden was talking about the horrific curse that befell the Sabinis. How it would soon overtake all of them. The city was simmering, about to burst through and explode. Though the Shelby and Solomons boys were making headway, Alfie couldn’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop.

This war was killing him. The business was killing him. He felt it. And you were seeing it. He was drinking more. Eating less. Even when you tried to touch his cheek, to remind him of the moment you two shared and the fact that you were still here and alive, he huffed and moved away from your caress. Your touch brought back the visions of his nightmares and the smoldering tailor shop. It was killing him. It was killing you.

Alfie had created a moat around you, keeping you at a distance and protecting you from him. You had been relegated to simply his secretary. No more. No less. No longer his confidant. No longer his support. No longer the sweetness or the warmth to his day. And while you knew that he was doing this out of fear and out of wanting to protect you, you couldn't help the feelings of rejection from rising in your stomach. You couldn't shake off the feeling that he saw you as a child. As a small ceramic doll that needed to be shielded and held in a box. He didn't look at the sketches you had drawn up for the club. He wasn't even letting you in on the meetings anymore. It was no longer just hurting you. It was now irritating.

On a cold and wet morning, you had enough. This could not stand. You were more than just a desk girl! You were not a girl who needed to be shielded damnit! During an hour you knew there was not going to be any meetings or meddlings, you knew you had your time. You pulled your sweater tighter around you, and pushed in to Alfie's office. "Alfie, we need to talk."

Alfie didn't even look up from his desk and the accounts he was checking, "Not now Ms. Abraham, I am currently checking your math. Tomorrow yeah?"

You pulled the chair out to sit, "No Alfie we need to speak right now."

His broad shoulders slacked down like weathered masts of a ship, and the breath released from his lungs was low and slow. His eyes pressed together as he scrubbed his face. Looking out the window of his office, rubbing his unkempt beard, "What could possibly need discussing now? You already finished all the work I gave you. And there are no more meetings. You can go home."

You wrapped your arms around yourself, the room freezing but your neck hot, "That's exactly it Alfie. You are treating me like a simple secretary."

"You are a secretary love."

"Let me rephrase for you. You are treating me like an idiot. An idiot secretary. You're treating me like a child."

Alfie just stared at you, eyes smoldering like kindling in the stove. He stayed silent, lips tight, you couldn't even tell if he was breathing. If you didn't know him you would think that he was going to fire you. But this was just Alfie. He was thinking. Plotting his next move in this eternal game of chess. Maybe if you were a more ruthless and emotionless player you would have kept you mouth shut. But who cares about winning a chess game when your heart is being chipped at slowly and painfully.

"Alfie, You shut me out. If... if what happened in the jewelery shop was a mistake -"

"It wasn't a mistake."

You paused, staring into his eyes, but he merely nodded at you to continue. "Alright. Well... if it wasn't a mistake. Why are you shutting me out? Why aren't you... letting me be your secretary like I have been all this time. Who does this benefit Alfie? Because you look even worse every day and... well Alfie I feel alone. I feel alone Alfie. I'm scared. I don't know what is going on. I feel lost. And you aren't sharing with me what I need to know. Do you think i can't do this job anymore?"

Alfie stood up, going to the window, looking out at the rain tapping the window and stones below. Though you were screaming inside for a response, you knew this movement. He was thinking, calculating. Trying to figure out the right thing to say to you in this moment. He turned to you, then walked to the door of his office, "Tea?"

It was so odd watching him make his and your tea. Frankly, you didn't even know that he had remembered how you took your tea. It was perfect. Though it was the perfect cup, and the atmosphere should have made a comfortable and relaxing time, your brow was still furrowed, confused as to what Alfie was playing at. He was drinking his own tea, staring at you in between the breaks of his scribbling in the notebook.

After what seems like hours, he finally paused, "Alright treacle. Let's talk business."

"Business?"

"Yes my dove, because what we have here yeah, is quite a bit of a conundrum so to speak."

He took a long drag of his tea before setting it back down and beginning again, "Now...treacle. Like I said yeah? We have a great conundrum. Because you... my viper... have performed a feat like none other. You yeah, have become two people at the same time."

"What are you talking about?"

“Just listen alright? Now, not only are you a damn good secretary… a very damn good secretary; but you are also someone I have grown rather… fond of.”

"Just fond?"

"Actually a third thing too, a pain in my ass. Damn woman I am trying to talk to you! Shit! Listen! I... may... feel quite fond of you. And in this business.. it is very dangerous to have people who you are fond of. Much more dangerous to have people know about your fondness for others. Now... do you understand what I'm saying treacle?"

Eyes wide, playing with the loose string on your sweater you nod and Alfie grunts in assent. "So you see my dove, I am very very fond of you. In fact it makes me absolutely sick. But... I don't want my fondness for you, to affect your safety. You understand? So that is why I have been... more reclusive."

Alfie watched you nod, your eyes wandering to the corner of the office where some spiders had begun building the foundation of their new home. He watched the quirk of your lips, and waited. You weren't about to agree. "Well... Alfie... what if you weren't the only one who was deeply fond of someone? Hmm? What then?"

"Well that would be a problem right? Because that would be a mutual deep fondness and it would be highly innappropriate."

"Why?"

"Because you are a good girl and I am a bad man."

"I don't care."

"Well you should."

"I don't."

"Well fuck treacle it is entirely out of the fucking question. It doesn't matter who is fond of who it does not matter. What matters right? What really matters, is that I keep you safe, and you get to walk out of this office and find someone your age and who is not damned to the fucking gates of hell!"

"I don't care! I don't fucking care! Because even if you are damned to hell, I have been living in one! You think you keeping me in a box will keep me safe and make me happy? I'm alone! I'm scared! And the one person in this whole fucking world who makes me feel safe is keeping me at a distance!"

Tap

The large drops of soft rain trickle down the steamed up window panes like tears from God. And soft blue light of the covered sun illuminates the storm brewing behind Alfie's eyes and the gale force winds sighing from his lungs. These past few weeks you have felt like one of those palm trees you saw in a painting in your childhood books. Swaying in the wind of Alfie's hurricane. You were in the eye of it. You were the eye. The small bit of calm in the center of the madness. But one move to the left or right would put you in the throws of it, threatening destruction and death. Yet it was suffocating in the center. No where to move. All the oxygen being sucked out.

"Alfie... don't keep me away. I can't stand it."

Alfie never took his eyes off you. In his stomach he felt as if rocks had taken up residence. There were so many things he wanted to say. So many things he wanted to do. He loved you. He loved you and he couldn't say anything about it. He couldn't for a million and one reasons and yet it was cutting him up inside to hold in this declaration. He loved you more than anything in this world, and he would absolutely evaporate if anything happened to you. And that is why he couldn't love you. That is why he couldn't say anything. But God did he want to take your tears. To hold you in his chest, to kiss you and tell you that everything was going to be ok. That he would kill every person who even looked at your house or you. That he could do it. That he could change the tides if it meant you were happy. If he could have you... you would never want for anything again.

But that's not what is best for you is it?

With a grunt Alfie stands up, motioning for the door as the clock struck 2, "Come on darling... let's get you home. "

Alfie's heart cracked into two pieces when he saw that first rivulet fall down your cheek. Silent tears that never ended all the way home. He thanked God that you let him walk you up to the door, but was not shocked when you walked in without another word. As Alfie turned back around to head back to the car, your father stopped him, "Mr. Solomons... won't you come in for something warm?"

Alfie had this house furnished and ready for the family in the wake of the fire. But your family brought another level of color and warmth that could never be bought, and it brought back memories of his mother so vividly in his mind. It was warm and rich, and the tea provided by your father was strong and invigorating, much like him. Alfie hadn't noticed how much Esther favored your father. The crease in the brow was carbon copy, and Alfie had to supress a smile on his lips when he made the realization. After the formalities often afforded to business associates, your father spoke, "Mr. Solomons... I will be candid... I know that my daughter works as your secretary. And I know that Eli works in your shops."

Alfie slowly blinked. Nothing could be said, and he had prepped already for this exact scenario millions of times.

Leaning back, letting his hands rest on his stomach, your father continued with a sigh, "And...man to man... I know that my daughter not only loves her job... but also Mr. Solomons... loves you. And I suspect, that you have loved her and do now. Yes?"

This was not something Alfie had prepared for.

"Please do not deny Mr. Solomons. Though you are a gangster you are a man and I have seen many a man fall over their feet for my eldest but you," pointing his finger at Alfie, "you have done more than trip over feet. You love her. Do you deny it?"

"No Mr. Abraham. I don't."

"You want to ask me for her hand in marriage?"

"Fuck me."

"Please Mr. Solomons, Mrs. Abraham will have a fit if she hears that talk. What do you want with my daughter? She will not be made a fool."

Alfie waved his hands in the air, trying to clear out the fog in his mind, "No Mr. Abraham I- yes. Yes Mr. Abraham, I love your daughter very much. More than I should. More than I deserve. If I were a better man I would... I would have married her weeks ago. Proper marriage. Proper ceremony. Or whatever she wanted it doesn't matter to me. She... she's the best moment of my day and the worst is when she leaves. She gives me a headache every time she argues with me but makes me feel better than I have since I was boy right? But I can't love her proper. I can't give her the life she deserves Mr. Abraham because of the nonsense that I bring. Mr. Abraham I'm man enough to say that I don't deserve her. But I'll protect her and your family until a better man comes along."

Your father hummed, looking into Alfie's eyes, as if reading all the other words that Alfie couldn't say. "You know... Mr. Kahn... he told me when I was a young man... that it is often the people who are most deserving of love who think that they don't deserve it. It is the most bravest people who think they are not brave. And the best people who think they could be better. And I wonder... Mr. Solomons... if you have forgotten that love is not a token something to be earned, but rather a gift which is freely given. It's there whether we think we deserve it or not."

Your father put a finger up to Alfie, and tip toed to the cabinet to pull out a clandestine box of cigarettes and match. Handing one to Alfie he says, "Mrs. Abraham has been trying to get me to quit for 30 years and I can't shake it. Indulge with me won't you?"

Alfie greedily sucked in the smoke, as if sharing a secret with a classmate. After a few moments puffing in silence, your father spoke up again, "My daughter is very stubborn as I'm sure you know. My wife and I know she loves you but she cannot say it to herself. She's never been good with admitting a vulnerability like that. But she will. But she won't if you keep pushing her away Mr. Solomons. And I'm sure the last thing you want is for her to be far from you yes?"

Alfie nodded in assent, reeling from this conversation. Your father's large cheeks raised in a smile, nearly concealing his eyes, "Good then. Now Mr. Solomons. regarding your shirts, Eli will be by your house at 8pm with a pack. And I’ve taken the liberty of adding a more secure button and stitch pattern.”

As he turned away he added, “I think you’re a better man than you give yourself credit for Mr. Solomons. Don’t let fear get in the way of life. We’ll all be ok.”

Alfie nodded once again, placing his fingertips on the ornate mezuzah on the doorframe. Feeling a strange peace wash over him as he touched his fingers to his lips. On the drive back to the office and the drive back home, he thinks about what your father said, the way he was welcomed into the home and table. Maybe this could work. Maybe… maybe this war could end. And he could keep you safe. And he could make you happy. Maybe… maybe it will work.

The next day when you came to work, Alfie was already in, talking to Ollie and Ishmael, maps and ledgers all over the place. The fire in the stove by your desk had already been lit and brought to vibrant life. A small bouquet of lavender and baby's breath was at bright attention in a chipped cup on the desk, right next to a blueberry scone and a little note reading 'Can't do this without you' in large and jagged neat script. "Ah treacle! Shalom. Ollie, Ishmael that will be all, get to it yeah? I want proof of death by this evening. Treacle come in please?"

You walked in tentatively, nodding and saying good morning to Ollie and Ishmael as they left. As you take you seat, Alfie is pouring out your tea and putting out the cigar he had been nursing all morning. "Here you go love, drink that down. Listen... I've been doing some thinking... and as much as it stabs me in my cold rotten heart... I do believe you are right, and I'm in the wrong."

Your tea must have been poisoned, because you spluttered at Alfie's admittance, "Alfie? Are you not well? Are you dying?"

Alfie rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small chuckle that spilled out, "No I'm not dying you vile woman! I'm apologizing! Wipe your mouth darling you'll drip on your nice dress. Like that by the way, is that new? Anyway treacle. I have been keeping you away from things. I am fond of you I worry about keeping you safe and away from the mess. I know you ain't a child, but I can't help but feel rather responsible for you. Especially now that your family knows that you're working for me."

"He told you?"

"Yeah, yeah he did treacle. Real shit espionage on your part dear, you will not be given any jobs that require being discreet love I'm sorry, but frankly you cannot lie worth a damn."

Your nostrils flared at the dig at you, but you couldn't help the smile at the corner of your lip due its' truth. Alfie continued on, "This war love, it ain't nothing new to me. And it is necessary for both me and the Shelbys. The Sabinis are right rats and I'm quite sick of their activities. If I am too... rough in my handling of you I am sorry, I do want you in this, and I can't do it without you. But I need you safe. Understand?"

Your eyes bore into his, and he was teetering on the thin line of relief and vomiting due to his new found vulnerability. "So you won't send me home early anymore? We'll go back to business as usual?"

"Yeah... If you'll have me."

You bit your lip, trying to hide your happiness and relief, "I think that is amendable to me."

You shook hands, and shivered slightly at the renewed contact that you had secretly craved for weeks. With a quick release of breath and a final firm squeeze of your hand, Alfie released reluctantly, "Beautiful. Get your little notebook and get comfortable love. We have a lot of business to attend to."

Did you ever. You had mistakenly thought that though Alfie had been sending you home, he was handling everything swimmingly. However, Alfie was actually about to collapse under the amount of plates he was spinning. You reorganized his calendar. Argued at length about the numbers and the accounts until they were perfectly balanced. You reviewed the designs for the gaming club, now named Crown and Horse, and chastised Alfie for failing to choose the wallpaper despite opening night coming in three weeks. More had been accomplished in a single day than had been done in the past week, and you both were abuzz. Alfie could not deny the fact that he had felt better than he had in weeks having you back in his atmosphere. He felt lighter. He laughed easier even if it was at his own expense. Looking at the way your eyes danced along the pages and listening to the ringing of your voice as you hollered and laughed brought him more bliss than any rum or draught that could be cooked up.

As the weeks went by, more and more Sabini strongholds and hiding spots were blown to pieces. More and more Sabini men and soldiers were driven mad by the dark spectors haunting their steps, until they were quietly taken in the night. You were aware of it all, through the whispers in the street and the information Alfie shared with you. The tailor shop was nearly finished, but business was booming more than it had in years. Whether it was due to people feeling sorry for the fire or due to peoples new found respect in the family's tie to Solomons, you couldn't tell. But your father looked more settled than he had in ages, and that was enough for you.

Opening night of the gaming club was to be a grand affair. The Shelby boys had opted to hire a band to play, and gaming tables were to be pushed to the sides to keep room open for dancing. Despite protestation from you, snow would be available along with good drink, anything to keep the crowd raucous and loose lipped. “The only difference between high brow and low brow people treacle, is how willing they are to get their good clothes dirtied up.”

Alfie had asked to escort you to opening night, you tried to decline, as you had nothing quite so suitable for an event. But Alfie scoffed, suddenly producing a wine red evening dress, with nearly black beads dotting the dress, catching the light to look like the night sky. Of course, you scolded him harshly, it was not in the budget you had set for the opening. Alfie smirked, touching the gold locket,that he refused to take back, on your neck, “There’s always room in the budget. I’ll pick you up in the car. 7. Make sure that locket stays on yeah?”

The last ‘date’ you had been on was a abject disaster. You were 17, and your date reeked of cigarette smoke and paint thinner. He took you to the pictures, where he proceeded to kiss a girl who sat next to him on the other side. To add insult to injury, Eli sat behind you to see the entire thing, and swiftly began to punch the living daylights out of your date. Eli did win, but did sport a black eye for a good while, and teased you about him for years to come.

Not that this was a date! This was not a date! This was merely a business event. A business event with your very handsome boss in a dress that he bought that just happened to be the perfect fit.

Or so you argued with Eli as he teased you from your doorway watching you pin your hair up. “Uh-huh of course. So do you think that Alfie will propose to you tonight? Or is the little locket the sign you’re using for your betrothal?”

“Get out! God don’t you have anything better to do?!”

“Mmm no Im off today. Watching you put more effort into your appearance then you ever have in your life is amusing to me.”

You spun around, “I look terrible don’t I? I look ridiculous! Oh damnit that’s it when Alfie comes you will have to tell him I caught a pox or something!”

Eli threw his head back hollering in laughing, throwing himself on your bed, “Oh my gosh!! Dear heart you don’t look ridiculous!!! You look nice!! Like a regular star! I’m only teasing you. Please please you must go. I don’t think a pox lie would keep Alfie from pushing his way into the house to get to you anyway.”

Watching him from the mirror you said, “You don’t think so?”

“Alfie? No nothing. And I don’t think it’d keep you from seeing him either. Am I wrong?”

Your head fell on the desk, “Eli… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

“I don’t know if… I’m allowed to feel… the way I do.”

“Well you have to say it in order to know if it’s right.”

You turned to face him, “Eli,.. I feel… home. I feel like I’m right where I need to be when I’m with him. And I want to be next to him all the time. I don’t like not being near him. It feels like… I’m missing my favorite book. I’m still me if I’m not with him. But I’m always searching for him.”

With a soft smile Eli responds, “and why wouldn’t you be allowed to feel like that?”

“Because… well… I don’t want him to feel responsible for me. He has enough to deal with.”

Eli looked around the room, waving his hands, “Well… he did all this… and had only asked that you don’t quit. So… not that I don’t think you’re smart… but I don’t think you’ve really thought it through… it seems… like you’re looking for a reason to not love him so that you don’t feel vulnerable… am I wrong?”

Chewing on the nail of your thumb, a persistent habit you've tried to kill for years, you mumble out, "I hate it when you do that."

Eli merely smirks, mirth glittering in his eyes, "What is a brother for if not to see you past your walls? Now!" Eli stands grandly, as if finishing a fabulous routine for a crowd, "It's nearly seven mouse. Finish up so Mr. Solomons isn't kept hostage by Esther for too long."

You waived him away giggling as the memory of Esther attempting to put fake rouge on Alfie glimmers in your mind. Eli was right. He usually is, as infuriating as it is. While you had lulled yourself to sleep with fantasies of loving Alfie fully and replayed the moment in the jewelry shop every quiet moment you had and felt Alfie's breath on your neck with every whisper of the wind... you never allowed yourself to truly imagine and consider love. Never allowed yourself the pleasure of the thought of him loving you. But.

If he does.

If Eli is right.

If Alfie Solomons loves you.

And you love Alfie Solomons.

Who is to say that you can't be together.

What is to keep you apart?

What is to make love unsafe?

Your reverie and final touches are interrupted by sweet Esther bounding in joyfully, "He's here!! Mr. Alfie is here!"

She pauses at your seat on the vanity, mouth agape, teddy dragging on the floor from where it hung from her grasp, "Wow... you look like a princess..."

You laughed out, gathering Esther in your arms to carry her downstairs, "Well thank you my sweet girl. But surely not as beautiful as you."

She sqeauled and giggled as your pressed kisses to her chubby cheeks, dark red lipstick smudged on. Alfie's eyes were drawn away from Eli's story to land squarely on you and Esther. It was as if everything melted away. You were always beautiful. Always. Not a single moment was different. But in this moment you were otherworldly. Your beauty was only enhanced and amplified with the fine clothes and extra time put into your makeup and hair. The smile you had on your face was radiant and true. The love in your heart shone out adding a glow around you. Alfie wanted to live in that glow forever. Eli stopped talking and smiled at you as he watched Alfie walk towards you like a man in a trance. When you finally set Esther down, you turned in a circle, letting Alfie get a full view, "Is this ok Alfie? You don't think it's too much?'

Alfie shook his head, motioning for you to spin again, "It's absolutely perfect. You look like a right star. Every man will want to dance with you sweet."

You chuckled, "Well they'll be disappointed won't they? I only dance for one man."

For the first time in his life, Alfie felt a blush rise in his cheeks. He had never been flustered before. Silently, he grabbed your hand and pressed a whiskered kiss to your knuckles before leading you out. You waved by to Eli and Esther, excited for the evenings festivities.

You were shocked that the floor hadn't broken underneath you. It was packed. It was alive. It was proving a success. The band John Shelby had booked was relatively new but had shown the crowd the best time they would ever have. The dance floor was vibrant with sequined and bejewled bodies. Gaming tables were sending men to the grave and to Olympus in equal measure. Drinks were flowing like a river, and no one was exempt from its effects. When the Shelby boys whisked Alfie away for drinks and business, you were quickly adopted by Esme, Ada, and Polly. And though you knew that the Shelby - Solomons relationship was at some moments rocky, you felt immediate connection with the women, and knew in your heart that a friendship with them would be more than just business. Your face was hot and your body was buzzing from the energy in the room. You and Ada became fast friends, dancing and twirling like silly girls in the playground. Soon enough you collapsed into barstools laughing and whispering about the scenes surrounding you. But soon enough, your conversation with Ada was cut short by a warm and calloused hand on your shoulder. Looking up you see Alfie's glowing eyes and flushed cheeks. Ada smiled and slipped away as Alfie leaned in to your ear whispering, "Dance for me?"

You nodded, allowing yourself to be pulled from your seat to the center of the dance floor. You felt weightless as you were sucked into Alfie's embrace. A slower number was being played by the band, and though you were surrounded by couples, you would never have known. All you could sense was Alfie around you. In any normal circumstances you would have scolded Alfie for holding you so possesively in a public setting, it was improper. But you couldn't care. How could you, when your body was wrapped in Alfie's strong arms, your fingers raking through his hair, and his beard scratching against your cheek. How could you care when you were living in heaven.

"Are you having a good time my sweet girl?" Alfie husked in your ear.

You smile, bringing his nose to yours to whisper against his face, "Yes, now that you're here. Only one thing could make it better Alfie."

"What's that?"

You force your eyes to meet his storming ones, letting your hand run through his beard, "A kiss."

Alfie's large hand slides to the back of your head, making a mess of the pins holding your hair. His face came to yours, kissing you fiercely, and all the months of waiting, debating, and worrying finally melted away. You let your hands rush into his hair, mussing it as you have longed to do for nights and nights and nights. Sweet and tender and hungry and longing, Alfie's lips against your own was the only thing you could understand in that moment. It was the only thing you could comprehend. Pulling away, Alfie huffed out, "Fuck..."

You laughed at his toussled visage, "Is that all it takes to make you silent Mr. Solomons?"

His eyes grew dark, and you suddenly felt a thrill in your stomach, "Careful treacle might just have to do that again."

Alfie was reaching for you again when a commotion began at the bar.

On top of the crowded bar was Sabini, with a gun pointed directly at you. You could see Tommy pushing people out of the way telling them to get out, trying to get to Alfie. John and Arthur and other Peaky boys were fighting men off, trying to pull down Sabini

"SOLOMONS! You think this is how business is done?" Sabini howled from his place on the bar. "You think you can do this to me? You think this is how you kill a Sabini? You think I'll let a bitch destroy this business? I'll kill you all!"

Bang. Bang.

You fall to the ground. The smell of smoke and iron filled the air. You felt warm liquid on your body, and the sound of people screaming and running fill your ears.

But no pain. No fading and no light coming towards you. A heavy weight is on you groaning out your name. It takes a few moments to understand what was on you.

Alfie.

Your body suddenly awakens. Sabini was on the ground, pale and being carried out by his men leaving a trail dark blood in his wake. Alfie had pushed you to the ground to take the shot meant for you, covering your body with his in his fall. You pushed yourself out from under him, holding his face in your hands, screaming above the crowd, "Alfie! Alfie look at me!"

His eyes were searching for you, "Treacle... treacle you alright love?"

"Alfie you stupid stupid man why did you do that! Alfie please!"

He smiled weakly, "It's alright sweet girl. Old Alfie's alright. Barelt a scratch on me love. Couldn't let my best girl get hurt yeah?"

You looked down at his stomach, a sickly red bloomed on his crisp white shirt. Not a scratch. Not alright. You felt the tears streaming down your cheeks, "Alfie we need to get you to a doctor. We need to go now."

Alfie shook his head, raising his hand to your trembling face, "Nah... I don't think so sweet girl. Just give me a moment. Just let me look at your sweet face for a little. Just give me a moment."

Alfie's eyes fluttered shut as he passed out. Shaking, you began screaming his name, "Alfie... Alfie! Alfie wake up!! Ollie!!! Ollie fuck get over here! Somebody help!!! Somebody please help!!!"

Tag List: @jokersqueenofchaos @hoodeddreams13 @satur9-saturnalia @autumnleaves1991-blog @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @character---obsessed @solomons-finest-rum @cookiez56-blog , @teapartydreams , @sciencewithottsnpotts , @6asm0ne , @purrrrfect, @bluejellyfiish @jassiefayee

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #Interviews for New Beginnings

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justabigassnerd · 2 years

Text

Safe and Sound

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word count - 2,151

Warnings - mentions of death, angst, fluff

Summary - On the uranium mission, two of the people you care most about get shot down

A/N - I had to I'm sorry. I'm on a Rooster kick and I had to write for him. For the sake of this fic, Hangman has a WSO because I said so and reader's callsign is Pegasus. This is probably actual horse shite bc I've never written Top Gun before but you won't learn anything by not doing it so I gave it a go. Anyways, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!

This mission was one no one at Top Gun could stop talking about. Your father, Pete Mitchell, better known as Maverick, had to whittle down a group of twenty of the top graduates from Top Gun down to six. You made him promise to be fair and not just pick you because you were his daughter because the moment you knew you were the WSO for Jake Seresin, you knew you stood no chance. Hangman was a good pilot. A great pilot even. He just had an ego to match your father’s and would leave his wingmen out to dry at any given opportunity.

Your boyfriend, Bradley Bradshaw, had tried to convince you that there was no way your dad wouldn’t pick you. He would constantly praise how you were one of the only teams to make it through the trial run and land the closest hit to the target. Every time he reminded you of that, you just reminded him that the second after that steep climb, Hangman flew off, which would mean leaving your wingman to get blown to smithereens by SAMs in the actual mission. Rooster thought it was unfair, that the daughter of Maverick was stuck as a WSO, but you kept reassuring him that it was your choice. You enjoyed flying but you got nervous sometimes if you were the one piloting the aircraft, so you left it to those who were more comfortable.

When it came time for the mission to be carried out, all candidates were waiting anxiously on the aircraft carrier to find out who Maverick had chosen to fly alongside him in the mission. When Cyclone asked for who would be joining him on the mission he surveyed the pilots, knowing each one of them have trained so hard for this moment.

“Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob.” He announces the Foxtrot teams first, you watch as the four relax and share a smile with their friend. You heard Hangman release a small huff of annoyance, but you ignored him, knowing you’ll get your chance in due time.

“And your wingman.” Cyclone prompts. You cast a glance across the room at Rooster and could see how nervous he was. You knew him and your dad had a rocky history since your dad pulled Bradley’s papers at the naval academy, so you hoped your dad wasn’t going to pick someone else.

“Rooster.” Maverick says, making Bradley straighten up and nod slightly. Maverick then announces that you and Hangman are the standbys in case something goes wrong on the mission. The teams head up to the carrier’s runway and you approach your dad.

“You better not do anything stupid out there.” You say in a weak attempt to be funny, but you couldn’t deny the nerves that were eating away at your stomach because your dad and your boyfriend were risking their lives.

“We’ll be there and back in record time. I’ll bring that boyfriend of yours back safe and sound too.” Maverick replies with a reassuring smile as he brings you into a tight hug before turning to get into his jet. You then turned around to find Bradley and saw Hangman walking away from him, throwing you a smile as he passed.

“You okay?” Bradley asks gently as he rests his hands on your hips, his eyes watching you carefully.

“You better come back alive, Bradshaw.” You say, watching as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile.

“Wow, demoted to last name basis?” He manages to joke, making you roll your eyes.

“I’m serious Bradley. You better come home.” You repeat, making Bradley let go of your hips and cup your face gently in his hands.

“I’m going to do my damn hardest to get home to you.“ He says, rubbing his thumbs across the apple of your cheeks, bringing a smile to your face as you lean into his touch.

“I love you.” You say, both you and Bradley leaning in for a kiss.

“I love you too.” He whispers. Just before you could reply, you hear Fanboy yelling for Rooster to get in his jet and you take a step back.

“I better get going. I’ll be back before you know it.” Bradley says, pressing one last quick kiss to your lips before hurrying over to his jet and climbing into the cockpit, blowing you a kiss before you turn to get into the jet with Hangman. You watch as the four jets take off and fly in the direction of the uranium plant.

“And now we wait.” Hangman says, leaning back in his seat and throwing a glance over his shoulder at you.

“Hopefully we don’t have to do anything.” You reply, watching as the F-18’s quickly become specks in the distance before the missile strike is sent from the carrier to destroy the enemy aircraft’s runway. You could hear what was happening over the radio and you listened intently to what was going on.

“Come on babe.” You whisper to yourself when you hear that Rooster needs to speed up as him and his wingmen are behind schedule. You knew he had a cautious approach to flying and you pegged it to be because he lost his father when he was young and didn’t want to meet the same fate as Goose. Your dad had always told you ‘don’t think, just do’; at that moment, you knew Rooster needed to take your dad’s advice, whether he liked it or not. You and Hangman cheer happily when you hear two confirmed hits, and that the uranium plant is destroyed.

“Now they just have to make it back.” Hangman says with a smile, turning back to you. Both of you are filled with unwavering optimism that this mission is going to be a success. You both knew that there were SAMs so the teams had to fight to make it back, but you had no doubt that they’d be able to make it home.

“Dagger One has been hit. I repeat: Dagger One has been hit.” That one sentence made your heart plummet into your stomach. You could hear Rooster trying to reach Maverick through the radio but was met with no response. You couldn’t believe it. Your dad, one of the Navy’s best pilots was shot down in the blink of an eye.

“Dagger Spare request permission to launch and fly air cover.” You heard Hangman speaking to the radio tower, wanting to get into the air to help with the bandits being so close to the remainder of the team.

“Negative Spare.” The response angers you. The team needed help, and you couldn’t believe they were making you just stay put. You blink away the tears angrily and listen to what was going on. You could hear everyone being told to come to the carrier while Rooster was fighting the idea, wanting to look for your dad despite no one seeing a parachute. The next thing you knew you heard frantic calls and announcements that Dagger Two had also been hit and people trying to get a response. Your heart was now shattered. First your dad and then Bradley. Two of the people you love most in this world are gone within minutes.

“Pegasus, you okay?” You hear Hangman ask, an unusual softness to his voice. You couldn’t find your voice and remained staring blankly at the back of Hangman’s seat.

“y/n?” Hangman tries again, this time using your name instead of your callsign. You managed to force yourself to react and looked up to where Hangman was looking at you with concern over the top of his seat.

“They’re gone.” You whisper, tears seeping down your cheeks as the other jets land on the carrier, returning to their spots with the pilots climbing out.

“Are you going to be okay if they need us? I can ask someone else to jump in.” Hangman questions, making you shake your head.

“No, I’ll be okay. I just need a second.” You reply quickly, wiping your eyes and steeling your gaze, knowing you need to be strong right now just in case you’re needed. You fought the pit growing in your stomach and tried to stay focused, trying not to think about your dad and your boyfriend lying dead on enemy territory somewhere. You knew that you and Hangman had to be standing by just in case the bandits followed the others back to the carrier.

“Dagger Spare stand by. We have spotted Rooster on our radar in an F-14 and suspect Maverick is with him too.” You hear someone over the radio say and both you and Hangman leap into action, prepping the jet for take-off. Your heart was pounding, threatening to break your ribs, and burst out of your chest from how hard it was beating. They were alive, and you needed to help them get home.

“Dagger Spare standing by. Ready to take off when needed.” You say, flipping the switches to activate your radar while Hangman moves the jet into position to take off. When you’re cleared for take-off, it only takes a matter of seconds for the jet to get airborne.

“Pegasus, keep an eye out for any bandits, okay?” Hangman says and you nod in acknowledgment, glancing at your radar and at your surroundings. You fly in the direction of where the radio tower told you Rooster was coming from. As you travel you spot an F-14 being trailed by another more advanced jet.

“Hangman, that has to be them!” You say, pointing the jets out to him.

“Target the jet.” Hangman orders which you listen to, targeting the enemy jet easily.

“You’re clear to fire.” You say once you’re locked on target and Hangman doesn’t waste a second firing the missile and blowing up the bandit as you connect your radio to the F-14s.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your saviour speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions. And prepare for landing.” You roll your eyes and laugh at Hangman’s words but couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief as you look over to the other jet and see your dad and boyfriend.

“Hey, Hangman, you look good.” Rooster says.

“I am good Rooster. I’m very good.” Hangman replies with a cocky smile.

“Way to ignore your girlfriend Bradshaw.” You say with a laugh.

“You look amazing, baby. You always do.” Rooster says with a smile.

“Keep your flirting off the channel. We can talk back on the carrier.” Your dad’s teasing tone comes over the radio, bringing a slight blush to your cheeks as you fly back to the carrier. You and Hangman land first just before the crew prepare for your dad to land the F-14 with no front landing gear. You wait and watch anxiously as they land and the second you see them emerge from the cockpit, you’re leaping out of your jet and bolting towards them. You grab your dad in a hug first, hugging him so tight he was convinced you were going to snap him in half.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.” He whispers reassuringly, hugging you equally as tight to comfort you. You remain in your dad’s hold for a couple of minutes before Maverick looks up to see Rooster watching with a small smile on his face.

“I believe someone is waiting to say hi to you.” Maverick says with a smile before releasing you from his hug and turning you around, so you were face to face with your boyfriend. You wasted no time in bringing him in for a kiss, it was messy but helped reassure you that he was here in front of you and that he made it home to you.

“You are an idiot, Bradley Bradshaw. You scared me to death. I thought I lost both you and dad.” You say the moment you part for air. You were beyond grateful he made it back with your dad, but you couldn’t help but be a little angry that he went against orders to do it.

“I’m sorry babe. I just had a gut feeling that Mav was still alive and I couldn’t just leave him to die.” Bradley defends himself apologetically, bringing you into his arms and resting his chin atop your head as he runs a gentle hand up and down your back.

“I’m just so glad you both made it home.” You whisper against his shoulder, hugging him slightly tighter as you speak.

“Safe and sound. Just like we promised.” He replies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you nod.

“Hey, lovebirds, break it up! Celebratory drinks, let’s go!” You hear Payback yell, making the two of you pull apart but not before pressing another kiss to each other’s lips.

“Shall we?” Bradley asks, offering you his arm.

“We shall.”

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun maverick #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x mitchell!reader #pete maverick mitchell #maverick x reader #maverick x daughter!reader #pete mitchell x daughter reader

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hoeforhao · 6 months

Text

Rusted Away 🍂|| Kwon Soonyoung ||

🍁pairing : ex!soonyoung × fem!reader

🍁genre : exes to lovers, bakery shop au sort of, mostly angst, fluff towards the end, mild smut, mutual pining, slow build up.

🍁warnings : none for this part. will be added in the later ones!

🍁summary : you and soonyoung broke up almost two years ago because according to him sharing a common interest point with each other, to talk about at the end of the day was a necessity. How will things turn out for the spiriting away lovers now that their friend group has assigned them both the common job of baking muffins for the fall party!

🍁part : 1/3 [for fall-ing for u collab ]

🍁word count : 0.8k

🍁author's note : this is my first ever collab and am so excited!!! also i'm posting a full blown fic after a long break for writer's block and i don't know how this has turned out. please let me know your views ♡ last but not the least thanks to @playmetheclassics for beta-reading this for me! ily <3

"Y'all can't be serious right now" you sounded quite disgruntled with your two minions on other side of the conference call, plotting against your sanity, for universe knows how long!

"Well I mean you two quite literally run the two most loved bakeries of our neighborhood. It shouldn't come as a surprise that we will team you up." Steph's plain and unbothered voice echoes right into your ears, specially the 'team up part'.

"Yeah it shouldn't have been surprising or disappointing if it was someone else Steph. But it's with him. With Soonyoung. The Kwon Soonyoung. Out of all the people out there, you two would at least know best about what he did" your voice started shaking with each word it got closer to mentioning his name ; again ; after 2 whole years.

You still were in disbelief that your two most close ones did this to you. After being with you all those nights you cried till you couldn't breathe anymore, holding your trembling body whenever you had the worst breakdowns to seeing you slowly heal from the scabs and stabs left by him, Steph and Niall were with you the whole time. Them now setting you up with him again, for a silly little fall party felt nothing but seriously insensitive to you.

Pressing down on the side button of the phone, you were now sitting on the bed, all covered up in your comfort blankie with a blacked out screen laying on your lap ; the glass of which reflected the browns and caramels of the backdrop outside the misty windows, onto your own ones.

Fall was finally around the corner, which meant that the roads will now be iced all rusty, drizzled with honey leaves and sprinkled on by dark wine twigs. Fall also meant one more thing...the one very thing that was like the warm covering on your wounds, that meant the most to you above anyone and everyone. Your sycamore tree!

Pushing away the fluffy blanket on your legs, you quickly pulled down your pyajams to get dressed into something more appropriate for the weather outside, something more comfy and something that made you feel like you're back home once again a.k.a soonyoung's brown hoodie. While havocing through your entire wardrobe to take out all his belongings and leave back not a single essence of him around you and on you, the idiot missed out on that one brown hoodie he owned...rather the one he loved the most and the one he gave to you on your first date - under the sycamore tree.

You knew that the only thing, the only friend that could soothe the burns on you right now was that tree, the one true buddy that has stood by your side through the pains even your best friends couldn't heal, the big brother that shadowed you whenever the world's bright rays tried to scorch on your skin. So without wasting any more seconds, you hurriedly ran down the stairs leading to the hall. Upon reaching the main door of your small apartment you twist on the knob to pull open the door, and quite instantly a gust of cinnamon flavored wind engulfs all your senses.

Fall was truly your soul season. No matter how much turmoil your life was going through, or how much clogged your brain was to come up with new ideas, a walk down the leaf stained path of your favorite garden while the season's cool breeze flowed through your hair, definitely helped the caged Robin in you fly free finally.

Since the day Soonyoung broke your heart and left you all alone amidst the rusted haze, you've been visiting this sycamore tree every fall, to reminisce all the warm happy moment spent under its shade. To feel the same happiness as the day you planted the tree with your best friend, when you both were only 8 year olds, with the person who held you like the softest cotton bud dispersing away in the breeze all these years only to tear you off the stem at one go now.

You were consumed in your thoughts about how crazy love was, about how the twigs that have seen two people be in love for so long, hang around it for years, the branches that have been painted with countless giggles and soft kisses, now had its leaves shedding themselves from the agony of seeing its spiriting away child standing beneath it to shelter herself from the bleeding marks left by its other child.

Just as you were about to sit down on the dewy grass covering the entire ground below, your phone notification sound blew up suddenly. Drawing the device out from your tote, your eyes fell onto the lit up screen to see the name you've been running away from all this time.

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twsted-kinks · 8 months

Text

👀 Was That a Kiss? (Malleus x Reader)

Fluff and angst with a happy ending, reader is Yuu (gender neutral), reader is fat but it's only one of their insecurities, also reader is very hairy and lgbt+ because I'm projecting

Content Warning: misunderstandings, Yuu being confident but then boom insecurity, nonconsensual kiss but everyone participating likes it, self blame and hate (Yuu), Yuu freaking out about upsetting Malleus, Malleus kisses with his eyes open

"You know, Malleus likes you, right?" Lilia's face suddenly appears, floating in front of the human.

Yuu stops walking and stares at Lilia for a beat before replying. "Uh, first of all good morning. Secondly, what?"

Lilia chuckles before shifting upright. "Malleus Draconia, heir to the throne of Briar Valley, one of the most powerful mages in all of Twisted Wonderland, likes you."

Yuu blinks. "He... likes me?"

"Very much, and it's very obvious."

"Oh."

Lilia laughs. "Now run along, we don't want our dear prefect to be late for class, do we?"

"Ah- right!" Yuu looks to their watch then starts speed walking down the hallway. "Thank you!"

-----------

Malleus likes them. Malleus likes them. This replays in Yuu's mind again and again as Yuu tries to make sense of it. Look at them, on their best days they're lucky to be mediocre. They're fat but in all the wrong places and covered in hair from head to toe. But, Yuu tries to remember that they may not find themselves attractive, but that doesn't mean others don't. And this is a different world! Standards have to be at least a little bit different here. Plus, Yuu has lots of good qualities outside of looks! At least, they think they're good qualities. And Malleus visits them at night regularly, so he must enjoy their company at least somewhat. He has to. So, yeah, is it highly improbable for Malleus to like them? Absolutely! But that doesn't mean impossible. Yuu looks down at the book they're supposed to be paying attention to during the lecture, but the only thing that catches their eye is a photo of the ruins of an old building with a statue that looks like a gargoyle.

Yuu walks into the cafeteria with Grim tailing behind them. Usually, they'd sit with Ace and Deuce, but apparently they did something stupid again and Riddle had them doing some kind of chore as punishment. Yuu looks over the dining hall, plate in hand, until they spot a familiar quartet of Diasomnia students.

"Hey, can I sit with y'all today?" Yuu walks up and asks.

"Ah, child of man." Malleus gestures to the spot next to him. "It would be our pleasure for you to join us."

(Seating: Yuu, Malleus, Sebek on one side, and Grim, Lilia, and Silver on the other)

The lunch seems fine with Lilia keeping Silver from falling asleep in his food and Yuu keeping Grim from stealing food from plates. Everything is fine, until Malleus offers a bite of his food, holding the fork up for Yuu. Yuu gladly takes a bite and offers some of their own. When Malleus goes to take a bite, Yuu pulls the fork away with a giggle. Malleus chuckles as well and leans down further. Yuu is going to go for it. Don't think. Do it. Yuu leans in and plants a kiss on Malleus's cheek, right on the corner of his lips.

They giggle as they pull away but then go silent as they hear a scream from the other side of Malleus. "YOU FOUL HUMAN!" Sebek stands. "HOW DARE YOU PLACE YOUR LIPS ON THE YOUNG MASTER!" Yuu looks with a raised eyebrow to Sebek then looks to Malleus. The dragon fae's eyes are blown wide as he stares off into nothing. He touches his cheek and shifts his gaze to Yuu. Shock? Confusion? Disgust? Yuu can't place the look on Malleus's face, but he doesn't look happy.

"Oh, I thought you- I- I'm sorry." Yuu's face drops as they scramble to their feet. "I'm so sorry."

Before anyone else can react, Yuu runs out of the cafeteria. They're so stupid. Yuu stepped over so many boundaries, but Lilia said Malleus likes them! How could... Yuu runs faster. They're so FUCKING STUPID! Lilia said "like" and nothing else. They're fae, not human. They have a completely different culture. Of course words have different connotations! Someone like Malleus would never like them like that. Malleus is so intelligent, so skilled, so beautiful. They never had a chance. And now they fucked everything up. Yuu was fine just being friends with Malleus. Yes, their heart would ache, but that's nothing new. And now they'll lose one of the closest friends because they were an idiot that actually thought he liked them.

Doors slam open as Yuu runs into the onslaught of rain. They stop on the cobblestone, tears falling alongside the rainfall. Thunder claps. Malleus will never want to see them again. They continue walking as they take their time to steady their breathing. Yuu left Grim in that mess. They're really a shit friend, aren't they? At least Grim will enjoy the remnants of their lunch, and the little furball is strong enough to carry their bag to the next class. Yuu looks to their watch. They got time to get back to Ramshackle, change into their only other uniform, grab an umbrella, and meet Grim at their next class. They just gotta keep it together.

"HUMAN! HALT!" Yuu turns around to see Sebek running up to them with an open umbrella, trying to shield the the human from the rain.

"Oh uh, thank you, but I'm already soaked." Yuu holds up their hand and pushes the umbrella to Sebek. "It'd be better used by you, and don't worry. I'm going to apologize to Malleus. Well, if he still even willing to see me."

"Wh- Yes, your actions were inappropriate- I mean- AGH! I am here to APOLOGIZE to YOU!" Sebek pushes the umbrella back to cover Yuu again.

Yuu sighs and keeps walking. "Why? You had every right to call me out. Just look-" They gesture to the thunderstorm. "I did something stupid and hurt Malleus. Now he's pissed and will never want to talk to me again, and he has every right to. I actually thought- When Lilia said Malleus liked me, I actually believed he meant romantically. How can I be so stupid."

"Many humans are stupid, but you are not." Sebek tries to explain. "The Young Master-"

"Has every right to hate me!" Yuu shouts as they enter the Ramshackle Dorm's yard. Their tears refuse to stop flowing. "I crossed a boundary and betrayed his trust. I kissed him without his consent because I was dumb enough to think he'd actually liked me. Out of all the people I know, I'm surprised you aren't beating me to a pulp. Did you see his face? The way looked at me? I'm used to surprising him, but that- I've never seen him look at me like that before. So go ahead and just hit me already. I deserve it."

Sebek gasps. "I WILL NOT HIT YOU! And the benevolent Young Master is not angry with you."

Yuu turns to face Sebek and gestures to the rain again. Thunder claps in the distance. "I'm just- I'm gonna go to my room and dry off. If Malleus is willing to see me still, I'll apologize tomorrow. I don't think I can actually talk to him right now without crying, and I shouldn't be the one crying. He must hate me now. I betrayed his trust. I hurt him."

"Is that what you think, Child of Man?"

Yuu spins around, seeing Malleus at Ramshackle's doorstep.

"Is that the reason you ran away?" Malleus asks.

"Mal- Fuck." Yuu tries to wipe the tears from their face. "I'm so sorry. I thought- I was dumb. I misunderstood what Lilia told me. I'm so sorry."

Malleus steps towards the human, and, with a flick of his wrist, the rain is blocked by an invisible force above them. "What did he tell you?"

"He..." Yuu hesitates and looks tonthe ground. "He said you liked me, but I thought- Where I'm from, that usually means romantically. I thought- I'm so stupid. Kissing someone without asking first is so wrong. I'm so sorry.

"Sebek."

Sebek's posture straightens. "Yes, Young Master?"

"Leave us." Malleus reaches his hand forward, placing the knuckle of his index finger under Yuu's chin. "I wish to speak with them alone."

"Yes, Young Master!" Sebek quickly rushes away.

"If you never want to see me, I completely understand."

"You think what you've done has made me hate you?" Malleus steps closer.

"I- If you don't then-" Yuu pauses. "If you're still willing to hang out with me, I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. But, if you don't, I'll... I'll leave you alone."

"You truly think you have wronged me, and I am afraid I cannot persuade you otherwise." Malleus rests his hand under Yuu's chin, tilting it up to look at him.

"What I did isn't okay." Yuu tries wiping the tears from their eyes.

"If wronged you, would you consider our circumstances even?"

"Wha- But you haven't wro-" Yuu freezes, eyes wide, as they feel soft lips against their own. Malleus's eyes stare into human's, waiting to see them react. Yuu closes their eyes, tears falling faster as they wrap their arms around Malleus's neck. In turn, Malleus deepens the kiss and wraps his arms around their waist. When Yuu pulls away to breathe, Malleus catches their lips again. It takes a while until finally they pull away from each other.

"Engaging in a kiss without permission. That is how you wronged me, correct?" Malleus hums.

"Y-yes."

"And now I have done the same for you." Malleus kisses them. "And now I've done it again. It seems you must wrong me again to make things fair between us."

Yuu chuckles, smiling as they wipe away their tears one more time. "You're such a dork."

"But now you are smiling."

"I- Yeah, I am." Yuu kisses Malleus again. "Thank you."

#malleus x yuu #malleus x reader #twst malleus #twst fluff #twst angst #twst x reader #malleus draconia

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hyunsvngs · 3 months

Note

This is literally a whole essay y'all, I'm not sorry xD

My last Channie ask was such a simp daddy Channie ask but what about good boy Channie who just want his lovers strap-on??

He's been fidgeting all day with your strap-on on his mind. He knew you had it tucked away in your closet somewhere cuz you're pan and your previous partner (ended on good terms and are friends still) also had a vagina but who would throw away a perfectly good strap after that?

Exactly

No one would

You were hanging out with your ex and Channie in the kitchen when you asked him to go find your old baby-photo album buried in your closet so you can show your ex some funny baby pics you had. So he went to your shared room and went to the closet. he thought it was in that little black box buried under everything else.

He pulls it out of the closet and his pupils blow up the size of softballs once he sees what's inside. He got this curiosity from all the stories you'd tell him of how fun it was to use the strap with your ex but he'd just shake off the curiosity as something that would just pass because he'd never used one so of course he'd be curious.

Then he quickly hides it away again in your closet perfectly back where he found it so you wouldn't bat an eye. He quickly spots the photo album sitting up top on the shelf, covered in a layer of dust, and he runs it out to you and quickly retreats to the living room to get away from you two.

The day passes by quickly for you but it drug on for years for him.

You two are just cuddling on the couch watching Salt Burn (i haven't watched it yet LMAO whoops) and he abruptly sits up at one of the scenes. You pay no mind to it because you figured he was just getting a boner and was embarrassed for some reason (and let's be real, you're probably soaked by now too) but the movie wasn't exactly the reason why he got a boner.

He keeps subtly looking over at you occasionally, eyes darting everywhere if you catch him (which you can always see him in your peripheral, he just doesn't realize that) so you pause the movie and ask him "baby, what's going on? Are you okay? You wanna stop watching the movie and just get some sleep?" But of course he says he's fine.

15 minutes later and he's rocking back and forth trying to distract himself but he didn't realize it was also distracting you.

"Okay clearly you're not fine, tell me what's going on."

"No, it's nothing. The movie is almost over. Let's ju-"

"Chris."

And my god he looks at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes before dropping his head and saying "I.. I found your strap today.. looking through our closet.. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have looked in the box"

And you just start laughing at him. He's just so cute and embarrassed and he's just your little baby : ( your Channie : (

"Baby it's fine. But why are you so worried about it? You knew I had it, I don't mind."

"It's not that. I know you won't care if I seen it.. I was just thinking.." and he looks up at you, pupil blown out and slightly glossed over "... What if *we* used it..?"

"Baby, I can just use you anyways, you're so much better than some piece of rubber"

He looks down again with his ears turning bright red-

"I didn't mean use it on you.."

Oh.... OHHHH..... oh what a dirty boy.

A crazy smile is spread across your face from one ear to the other and you pick his head up and hold it in your hands

"Of course we can! Why don't you go pick out your favorite dildo of mine while I go grab the strap?" You say as you give him a little kiss on his pouty lips.

In a matter of seconds, his head shoots up and out of your hands and he's completely surprised at your response

"Wait.. what??? You.. you'd wanna do that?? Isn't that a little.. I don't know.. weird??" He says scratching the back of his head

You laugh at him again while shaking your head.

"Baby, I've wanted to peg your pretty ass from day one. Remember how you fucked me on my bed with my standing mirror at the end of the bed? Well I was watching your ass the whole time. Who said I don't wanna turn you into a subby mess while you're desperately fucking yourself on my cock"

And the way his cock twitches in his pants while his eyes roll back in his head 🥴

"Now are you gonna go pick out my cock to use on you or are we gonna finish the movie"

and he RUNS to the room leaving you giggling on the couch.

GOOOOOOOOOOOOD I'm a mess at work over this 🥴

SUBBY CHANNIE IS SOOOO REAL TO ME IM SERIOUS

i have nothing to add HES JUST DELICJOUS

#juno’s asks ♡#user: ardef38 #asks: channie

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matchingbatbites · 1 year

Text

Love Grows - Part 3

Y'all, this chapter fought with me so hard. It took a while to get something I'm actually happy with, but I got there eventually. This part is 2.4k of fluff to make up for the wait <3

Ao3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

May '85

After that first time, Rosie becomes a regular attendee of Hellfire nights, and Andy even apologizes his way back into Eddie's good graces and earns a spot in the "Rosie Rotation". Once basketball season ends and there’s no need for Eddie to watch Rosie during games anymore, the group of boys only make it three weeks before they start complaining about the baby’s absence, and Eddie just rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.

He tells Steve about it, half-expecting the younger to just find it amusing, and he’s surprised when Steve actually starts bringing her by to visit. It’s not every week, more like every second or third, but it’s enough to keep the club members from complaining, and Eddie finds he enjoys getting to sequester Steve away behind the DM screen, letting him take a peek behind the curtain that no one else is allowed to breach.

By the end of the school year, Steve and Eddie have a decent friendship, or so Eddie hopes. With graduation behind them, they've bonded over Steve's college denials, and Eddie's failing senior year again , and it's been nice having someone outside his normal friend group to talk to about it, someone who understands what it feels like to fall short of success.

Steve’s dad officially cuts him off, and Eddie has a brief moment of panic before Steve reassures him that no , he’s not being kicked out, they’re letting him and Rosie stay at the house. (“They’d rather make sure the house is taken care of than kick me out.”) But Steve needs a job, and after applying to a few places at Starcourt, he gets a spot working at Scoops Ahoy.

He's meeting Steve at the mall so he can take Rosie while the younger is at work, and though Steve had complained to him about the required uniform, Eddie is sorely unprepared to see it in person. When Steve steps out of his car wearing that fucking sailor outfit, Eddie almost has to sit down from the wave of solid need that hits him as his little crush flares into full-blown desire.

He takes a steadying breath and puts on a grin, gives a joking "Well, ahoy sailor!" and Steve rolls his eyes.

"I know, it's fucking awful, but I needed a job fast and they were hiring."

Eddie laughs and follows Steve to the backseat, can’t help glancing down to see the way the blue shorts stretch over his ass when the younger leans in to grab Rosie’s carrier. “I dunno, Stevie. If anyone can make this work, it’s definitely you.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Steve says, and Eddie’s eyes snap back to appropriate areas when Steve straightens and offers the baby to him. “Though I’d feel better about it if I wasn’t dressed like fucking Donald Duck.”

Eddie snickers at the idea and Steve gives him a very unamused look. “Sorry, sorry. Seriously though, you look fine,” he says, taking Rosie’s carrier and bringing it over to his car. He takes a second to buckle the girl into his passenger seat - not the safest, he knows, but he always drives extra careful when he has her. “Besides, at least you won’t be the only person there wearing a dorky sailor outfit. You have a coworker, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m still gonna complain about it though.” Eddie turns to find Steve behind him, diaper bag in hand and seemingly resigned to his fate. “Do you have any plans for today?

Eddie shakes his head and takes the bag from him. “Nah, just watching nugget. Probably gonna take her back to the trailer, if that’s okay?”

“Of course it is. You know I trust you with her,” Steve says with a smile, and fuck , the guy really doesn’t know what that one sentence does to Eddie. The fact that Steve trusts him with something as precious as his daughter is worth more to Eddie than anything else in the world. The sudden swell of emotion is too much, and Eddie needs to leave before he makes a fool of himself.

“Thanks, Stevie,” he says, and he can’t resist reaching out and tugging on that dumb little tie on Steve’s shirt. “Well, have fun at work, sailor. Don’t let anyone throw you overboard.”

Steve gently smacks his hand away and rolls his eyes again. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get into too much trouble with my kid, Eds.”

Eddie grins as he heads to his driver seat, calling out a final “Wouldn’t dream of it!”

He does bring Rosie back to the trailer, since he really doesn’t have anything else to do that day but watch her. When he walks through the door, he sees Wayne sitting on the couch, newspaper in hand, and the man looks up as Eddie enters. His eyes snap to the carrier in Eddie’s hand and he sets the paper down.

"Should I be concerned?"

Eddie shakes his head and sets down the diaper bag. "Don't worry, old man, Rosie isn't mine. She belongs to a friend."

"A friend?" Wayne stands and walks over so he can peek inside the carrier, and Rosie looks up at him with her big hazel eyes.

"Yeah. Her mama didn't want her, and her dad is pulling double time as a single parent and a teen dad, so I'm gonna watch her a few days a week while he's at work."

Wayne instantly softens and gives him a small smile as he reaches out, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. "That's really nice of you, Ed. I’m proud of you.”

Eddie shrugs a little, suddenly feeling bashful under his uncle’s approval. “Yeah, well- Hey!” He says as Wayne takes the carrier from his hands.

“I’ll keep an eye on her while you wash those dishes you were supposed to do last night,” Wayne says, setting down the carrier before pulling Rosie out of it. Eddie rolls his eyes even as he smiles, and he takes off his jacket and heads over to the sink.

He gets distracted often as he does the dishes, he can’t stop himself from glancing over to watch Wayne and Rosie. They’re on the nearby couch, and his uncle has the baby sat on his leg, facing him as he talks to her softly. Eddie’s heart aches as he sees Wayne’s big, work-worn hands holding her so carefully, his rough appearance juxtaposed against Rosie’s fragile softness.

The dishes get done pretty quickly, and once Eddie dries his hands he makes his way over to sit next to Wayne. Rosie looks up at him and smiles so wide her pacifier falls from her mouth, and Eddie chuckles as he grabs it before it can hit the floor.

“She’s a sweet baby,” Wayne says, smiling down at the girl, and Eddie nods in agreement. There's a moment of silence before Eddie looks at his uncle.

“You know, grandpa Wayne has a nice ring to it.”

Wayne scoffs a little, but Eddie can see the way his eyes shine at the idea. “I’m sure she already has enough grandparents spoiling her. No need for me to get in the way.”

Eddie hums and reaches over, takes one of Rosie’s tiny hands in his own and just cradles it between his thumb and forefinger. “Actually, not really. Her mom’s family is totally out of the picture, and Steve’s parents are pretty shitty. He said they didn’t even acknowledge her the last time they came home.”

The older man frowns, looks between his nephew and the baby. “Are you serious? They just ignored their own grandbaby?” he asks, watching as Rosie brings Eddie’s hand to her mouth so she can gnaw on one of his fingers.

“Like I said, they’re pretty shitty. She deserves to have at least one grandparent who cares about her, even if they’re not blood.”

Wayne stays silent and Eddie glances at him. “I’ll double check with Steve, if it’ll make you feel better, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“As long as you ask first,” the man says after a moment, and Eddie just beams.

June 85’

Eddie finds a new delight, and that's bringing Rosie to visit Steve at work. It's definitely because he doesn’t want to keep Rosie cooped up in the trailer all the time, and not because he has a chronic need to see Steve in those sailor shorts as often as possible.

Today he actually has a proper reason to go to the mall, because he wants to grab a few miniatures from the gaming shop that just opened not too far from the food court. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he pulls Rosie from the van, making a mental note that she’s going to outgrow her carseat soon. He leaves the carrier behind as he totes her inside, glances briefly into the gaming shop as he passes before heading on to Scoops Ahoy.

As Eddie approaches the counter, he bites back his usual, cheery greeting when he sees Steve standing there, hands and jaw both clenched as he stares at the sticky plastic. If Eddie knew him any less, he wouldn't notice the tears welling in his eyes, the tremble in his lower lip. Before he can ask, he hears whispers coming from a nearby table, just loud enough that Eddie knows the three teenage girls sitting there don't care about actually being heard.

"I heard that he was probably cheating on Nancy Wheeler with the baby's mother, it's the only way it makes sense."

"You’re so right. I mean, he's always been a playboy, so I'm not surprised that he was two-timing a couple of poor, unsuspecting girls."

Eddie sees red at the biting words. These girls have no idea what they're talking about, they don't know that Steve wouldn't even dream of doing something like that. He leans over the counter and presses Rosie into Steve’s hands, startling the younger out of his stupor, and drops the diaper bag onto the floor.

"I’ll be right back," Eddie says before heading out of the shop. He goes to a nearby food stand and buys the largest cup of Hawaiian Punch they have, then carries it back to Scoops Ahoy. He takes off the lid as he approaches the girls, and they don’t pay him any attention at all - until he upturns the cup onto the table and sends a flood of Red 40 spilling across the surface and down onto their laps. All three girls scream and jump up, trying to minimize the damage done to their clothes, and Eddie feels so smug.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he says, keeping his tone even and clearly unapologetic, and one of the girls turns to look at him, eyes blazing with fury.

“What the fuck! What’s your fucking problem?!”

“Right now? You three shit-talking, pep-rally posers are my fucking problem. Just be happy it wasn’t a slushie.”

A different girl lets out a cry of anger as she grabs her ice cream and throws it at Eddie, hitting him square in the chest with it. He levels an unimpressed look at her and wipes the dessert off with his hand. “You ladies should probably get going before your clothes are stained beyond saving.”

As furious as they are, the three seem to agree as they quickly leave, but not without throwing a few more insults his way. He waves them off with a “Have a nice day!” then turns to see Robin now behind the counter instead of Steve, Rosie propped on her hip and a beaming smile on her face.

“I’ll clean it up, I promise,” Eddie says as he makes his way back to the counter.

"That was so awesome! I fucking hate those girls, they're always awful to Steve and they never tip," she says, and Eddie frowns.

"Birdie, how long has this been going on?”

Before Robin can answer, Steve appears from the back area with a bucket and mop, as well as a few hand towels, and Eddie rushes over to help him. They carry the supplies to the table, and Eddie wipes the juice onto the floor as Steve mops it up, the two working in tandem to clean up Eddie’s mess as Robin keeps an eye on Rosie.

“I’m sorry about this,” Eddie says after a few minutes of silence. “I was just… pissed off, and I wasn’t thinking, and this is the only thing I could think of to do that didn’t involve me throwing punches at girls.”

Steve hums softly, waits a moment before saying “I’m not upset. I just… You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Eddie steps over, wrings out the rag into the mop bucket. “I wasn’t going to let them sit there and talk shit about you Steve. You’re stepping up and raising Rosie by yourself, and… You don’t deserve that.

“Well, not all by myself.” Steve has a soft smile as he leans over and nudges his shoulder against Eddie’s. “You’ve done more than your fair share, I think.”

The blush that floods Eddie’s face matches the red still covering the floor and he quickly turns, almost trips as he goes back to the booth, and he hears Steve chuckle behind him. By the time the mess is completely cleaned up, Eddie’s hands are stained a soft pink even after a few washes in the employee sink.

“I should probably go before I cause any more damage to your place of employment.” he says, slinging Rosie’s bag over his shoulder.

“I dunno, I kind of enjoy the free entertainment,” Robin chimes in, and Steve rolls his eyes as he takes Rosie from her. “Okay, next time you can spend ten minutes cleaning up Hawaiian Punch.”

Eddie groans and scrubs his stained hands over his face. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?” he asks, and Robin grins. “Definitely not.”

He groans again, definitely over-exaggerating at this point just to make Robin laugh, and glances over to see Steve place a kiss to Rosie’s chubby cheek. “Alright, nugget, we gotta get back to work,” Steve says, and like a sixth sense, a group of four teens walk into the shop. Robin greets them as Steve hands Rosie over with a final peck.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly as he takes the baby and props her on his hip. “Call me before you leave and I’ll order us a pizza or something. Consider it an apology for my 'Shining' moment.”

And his knees go weak when Steve gives him that soft smile and nods. “I think I could accept that apology.”

Tag list:

@luciana-rowan @bidisastersworld @little-gae-shit @thehumblefigtree @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcarin @estrellami-1 @shrimply-a-menace @anaibis @livelaughlexa @vampireinthesun @zerokrox-blog @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @idea-less-author @thegingerrapunzel @fantasyfr3ak @stevesbipanic @electrick-marionnett @tuesdaycats @seths-rogens @flustratedcas @qomrades @artiststarme @death-the-elf @itsanarrum @linkydinky06 @jaywhohasthegay @aboredowl @maya-custodios-dionach @swimmingbirdrunningrock @awkotaco24 @themardlonk @messrs-weasley @sly-bananabread @panicatthediaz @justforthedead89 @whalesharksart @eerielake @smolbasilboy @freyaforestafay @gleek4twd @gayngerthings @newtstabber @lucasrightarm @huskysarelife @i-must-potato @thegingervulcan @novelnovella @ryebread375 @stardustonpages

#please take this so i don't have to look at it anymore #on the upside i wrote part 4 while avoiding this part so its already finished lmao #teen dad steve #love grows #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #joey writes #low-key shoutout to withacapitalp who said 'steve dealing with small town mindsets'#and my brain immediately interpreted that as 'eddie being a menace to bigots on steve's behalf'

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hyunsuks-beanie · 2 years

Text

Not a Man of Patience

Pairing: Yeonjun x afab! reader

Genre: Smut

Content Warnings: Smut; dirty talk; pussy eating; piv; unprotected sex; overstimulation

Word Count: 2k words

Mellow speaks: Okay so I'm asking y'all this. Why the fuck is it always this bitch? Why is it always Choi Yeonjun who leaves me this hot and this bothered? At first I thought I was gonna get stuck at a little over 600 words, and a few hours later, here we are at 2k lol.

Tagging: @sweethyuka @yedammi @enhacolor @axartia @hyunsuksmygod @duolingofanaccount @zurimochi

You had it coming, honestly. It was something you could tell the moment he had gazed at you in the crowd, his eyes lingering on you just a second longer than needed. Even then, when the concert had only barely started, those eyes still held a mischief that you could have seen from miles away. Yeah, it was coming, and you knew it.

Even when he had stepped of the stage at long last, body covered in a sheen of sweat and chest heaving proudly at a job done well, the smirk on his face was enough to tell you he had still got plenty of tricks up his sleeve, and when he had met you backstage, lips reaching down to catch your own in a kiss that had started gentle but turned heated right there, in public, you knew you were on the right track.

Choi Yeonjun had never been a man known for being one with much patience. Nope, he believed in living hard and living fast, there was no time for dilly-dallying. His motto? You want it, you take it. It was especially true when it came to things like the joys and pleasures of life. Pleasures, like the thrill he felt while performing, screaming his lungs out into that mic labeled 'YJ.' Pleasures, the kind he planned on seeking tonight, with you in his arms, pressed against him.

The car ride back home was.....difficult to say the least. Because how else would you describe it when you could feel wetness growing between your thighs at the way he kept stroking your leg, his hand occasionally dipping under the short hem of your skirt, inching dangerously close to where you needed him the most. The tension was thick, so thick you could cut it with a knife, and the stolen glances and conspicuous lip bites threatened to make you moan.

After what truly was an eternity, the familiar building of where your shared apartment resided came into view, and the moments leading up to your entry past the equally familiar front door and into your living room went by in nothing less than a blur. Yeonjun was quick with his moves and firm in his intentions, his fingers getting wrapped around your wrist the moment you were done taking your heels off, his touch hot against your skin as he slammed you against the wood of that very door.

And that brings you to now, your lips getting swollen by the second and your breathing becoming ragged just as fast as he kisses you like his life depends on it. Because tonight, it probably does. He seems.....different, and it's a different that leaves you begging for more. He's not nearly as playful as he usually is, and his teasing ways have been replaced by a more aggressive stance as he grips your chin with one hand, his other digging into your hips as he parts your lips expertly.

His tongue is quick to flick into your mouth, exploring every inch as his chest presses flat against yours, his heart beating next to your own as his knee forces your thighs apart, getting wedged between them. He barely gives you time to adjust, gasps and moans being the only sounds you can manage as his hands grope at every inch of skin they can find. And lucky for him, there's quite a few inches to find.

You can tell he's still reeling from the adrenaline rush, the cheers and the music still echoing in his ears, and it's up to you now to moan even louder than those sounds, and become the only thing he can hear. His fingers are nimble but assertive as they tear away at the fabric of your outfit, wanting to feel as close to you as he can. As close as you'll have him. Eyes blown out, hair disheveled, and lips smeared with the gloss that belongs to you, he's the hottest mess you've seen, and it takes everything in you to keep the wetness at bay.

Not for long, of course, because once again, Choi Yeonjun is not a patient man. Your skirt and that flimsy little top are nothing but a pathetic excuse at keeping you covered up, and he decides he wants to make things easy for you and take away your reason for keeping them on your body. "Such a tease, hoping I'd bang you inside the changing room, huh?," he growls in your ear, one hand inching towards the waistband of your panties while the other pulls your bra down, his lips getting wrapped around your bud as he begins sucking. Maybe it's his words or maybe it's the way he runs a stripe up your clothed heat. Whatever it is, it leaves you breathless, your back arching against the door as you silently plead for more.

And it makes him chuckle darkly, his teeth digging into your nipple before he's pulling away with a pop, a "So damn needy" escaping him as he pushes the fabric to the side, stroking your pussy softly to prep you up. But he doesn't have to do that for long, because with the way that tank top sticks to his figure, and the way his leather pants seem too tight all of a sudden already has you soaking and sopping, causing him to quirk an eyebrow.

He doesn't really say anything, choosing to simply smirk as he rolls his eyes at you, making it seem as if you're the needy one. Quick to drop to his knees, you get to know just how different he is tonight when he can't even seem to wait long enough for you to take your underwear off. No, he's much too eager to devour you, and it's evident from how quickly he tears the fabric off, leaving you exposed enough for his mouth to latch onto.

So that's what he does, his tongue pushing through your puffy lips as he makes out with your folds, arms wrapping around your hips and nails digging into the flesh of your butt. It's like he's afraid to let go, wanting to commit every single contour of your cunt to memory as he moans against you, feeling himself grow weak at how good you taste. He's eaten you out more times than he can count, but even now, he can't help being surprised at how sweet you are. Or maybe it's just that he's addicted, aware of the fact that you're the most sinful pleasure he's ever indulged in.

He's slow at first, but it doesn't really take him long to pick the pace up, his teeth grazing across your bundle of nerves and making you whimper in response. He knows every inch of you like the back of his hand, so it's really no surprise that within mere moments, all you're reduced to is a whining mess, legs shaking and eyes rolled to the back of your head as you yank at his silky hair.

You don't know how long he continues to indulge in his carnal desires. It could have been barely a minute of him ruining your pussy, or it could have been hours of slow, almost lazy teasing. Whatever it is, the end result is the same, with your knees buckling under you and and a scream emanating from inside your chest. White hot pleasure is all you can feel, your dam breaking as you spurt your juices right into his mouth, and he eats you up like a man starved, lapping up every drop before pulling away and wiping his lips, clearly drunk off you.

You're at your limit, all you mind is screaming at you to do is curl up against him and go to dreamland. But you know he has other things on his mind, and you'd be lying if you said your body isn't screaming even louder for him to put those things to practical use. Yeah, you want him to use you for letting his own nerves loose, you want to be of use to him.

And it seems like you're in luck, because as always, he somehow knows just want you want, just what you need. "You want me to fuck you stupid, huh?," he giggles, almost childishly, enjoying having the upper hand as he takes in the way you moan and tug at his hand. He doesn't even wait long enough to take his pants off, choosing to simply roll them down his thighs enough to make his cock spring out, and you can only thank the heavens he wasn't wearing a pair of boxers.

His tip slaps against the vest which now clings to him thanks to all the sweat, and it takes everything in you not to swoon at the sight. Though of course, the way you gulp doesn't go unnoticed by him, and the way he quirks his eyebrow again leaves you nervous for no more than ten seconds, because by the tenth second, he's got your leg wrapped around his waist, his tip teasing your folds as he digs his teeth into your neck, sucking on your skin. "Mine," he mumbles, and the next thing you know, he's pushing all the way into you, driving himself in to the hilt.

You hiss softly at the suddenness, but the transient pain soon gives way to a lasting throb of pleasure as he bottoms out. "So....tight," he grunts, rolling his hips against yours, rutting into you as he begins setting up a pace. His moves are urgent, his thrusts needy as he fills you up with himself, groaning and moaning in time with you. The adrenaline is what keeps him going, telling him to absolutely wreck that pretty little pussy and claim that pretty little body. Because it's his to play with anyway, right?

Your walls clench around his thickness, his girth being something you'll never quite get used to. Your nails claw into his arms, your moans carrying through the air as you whimper for him to move faster. And he complies, because who is he to deny you the pleasure you seek? His pumps grow more desperate his hickies pierce deeper, his needs getting the better of him as he keeps thrusting, wanting to see you crumble before his eyes.

He's so fast it almost feels like he's going to tear your insides apart, and all you can think of is to thank him for it. Actually, scratch that. Thanking him is the only thing you know, because you seem to have lost all ability to think otherwise. You cum all over his length, but you can't tell if it's your second climax of the night or your tenth. Maybe it's somewhere in between, but you can't be bothered enough to ask. All you can focus on is the addictive pleasure coursing through your veins and overwhelming your senses. Somewhere through the night, you're begging him to fill you up with his seed, to let you take every drop in before you almost collapse. He tries to resist, tries to last even longer, but in the end, you're far too warm to not shoot white ropes of his cum into.

It takes you a moment to realize he's finally reached his limit too, and it takes even longer for him to stop thrusting, that's how focused he's been on the task at hand. That's part of the reason you love him so much, because he gives it his all, even if all he's doing is fucking you senseless. It just makes him all the more hot, and you? All the more wet.

His chest heaving as he comes down from his high, he gives you one of the best kisses he ever has, telling you how much he loves you and thanking you for calming his bubbling energy down. But if you thought he was done, I'm sorry to say you're in for a ride. Because if Choi Yeonjun isn't known for being a man of patience, one thing he is known for being is never backing down from a challenge.

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akookminsupporter · 1 year

Note

Personally I didn't liked concert

BTS concerts used to have a decorum. The work ethic they kept were so high. Any age can easily attend their concert But now many of them are 'trying' to be cool. Thinking swearing a 100 times, drinking on stage which is so unprofessional and including smoking scenes will make them cool adult?

His dad is literally a Liver cancer patient and the reason is easy to guess. Now Yoongi is doing down same way. Y'all like to preach adults can do whatever they want and they know what they are doing when it reality many of them are so dangerous for your own life and people won't even understand because 1)they are addicted 2)they think they are so coolLike BTS complains that we changed, they changed 10001% and I don't like it at all. But as long as he's doing some 'cool' acts it's top tier for yall I guess.

One thing I will always criticize BTS for is that they promoted an almost perfect public life for so long that now in this second chapter when they are showing their fans that they are normal people like us, many are shocked. They are shocked because they are doing things that many in their 20s have done or are doing.

They weren't like that before, they've changed!" No Veronica, they just stopped pretending to be perfect.

I want to believe that you are an older person but I know that there are "young" people who pretend to have the moral high ground, like you.

What people like you always fail to understand is that these people are adults who are responsible for themselves. They have to take responsibility for their actions, not you.

You talk about drinking alcohol and smoking as if it is a sin. It may be bad for a person's health in the long run but many say the same thing about sugar and people consume it every day. You sound like a person whose idealised image of these men is slowly falling away.

The concert was fun, it was very good. It was exactly what everyone expects an Agust D concert to sound like. Because I don't know if you heard but, the concert was not a BTS concert but an Agust D concert.

Have you ever listened to any of this man's songs? I'm going to assume you haven't because that's the only reason you would expect a blown-up castle in the middle of the stage and not Yoongi drinking alcohol.

Before you or anyone else comes and says that they are the role model for too many people and blah blah, I hope those people don't do what others do for the sake of doing it or because they "love them" so much, let alone if it's something bad, controversial or unhealthy. Critical thinking, personal opinion, concepts so easy but so many make them complicated.

Yes, anon, they can do what they want and so can you. If you don't like it, don't watch it. Unfollow them. Believe me, it's not an obligation. I hate prejudiced people who love to beat their chests pretending to have the moral high ground among others.

It's funny how you proved Yoongi's point.

#agust d tour #agust d #bts #suga #bts fan opinions

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wolfmoonmusic · 1 year

Text

Calloused Hearts - 4

Summary: Trouble stirs, but maybe it was for the better. Or for the worse.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Tidemaker!reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Kaz’s touch aversion

w/c: 1.5k+

A/N: I'M BACK! And in view of sab ss2 I thought "what better way to start of than by continuing this beautiful fic?" so here I am.

I'm a tad bit rusty, so please sympathize. But here y'all go.

<<prev chapter

Chapter 4:

A week.

You’d spent a week getting better, gambling, teasing Jesper and hanging out with the crows.

But most of all, you’d spent a week avoiding Kaz.

Although at this point you couldn’t tell if you were avoiding him or if he was avoiding you. But, it seemed like a mix of the two.

You watched as he made his way down the stairs, your eyes temporarily diverting from the drink in front of you. Jesper cleared his throat next to you, earning a jab in his side from Wylan. “What?! It’s like a full blown romance novel!” Your head spun around, wide eyes landing on your friend. “Cut that out will you? He could hear you!” you whispered. “Well he already knows. ‘Till the tide goes sti-” you clapped your hand over his mouth, sending him a warning look.

Yes.

You’d told him. He’d found it rather amusing. However he didn't seem to understand the fact that it had to remain a secret. You pulled away, still watching him carefully as he held up his hands. “Sorry,” he muttered.

You turned back around to face Kaz, the familiar hollow feeling settling in your chest. He was talking to Inej now, the girl’s body language, a hand on her knives, worrying you.

“Something’s wrong,” you say, watching Kaz’s expression harden even from this distance.

And then his eyes are on yours.

Piercing. Hard. And yet again, unreadable.

His head tilted to the left slightly, the age old gesture causing you to spring to your feet. You pull at Jesper’s hand dragging him along, ignoring his protests about a drink going to waste.

It was weird. No matter how long you’d spent apart, the signal never changed. Your understanding of each other was still rather perfect. You followed Kaz and Inej up the stairs, the other crows following behind.

You couldn’t imagine what it was. What made Kaz call you up here along with the others? If he had to contact you all, why tell you directly? Why hadn’t he told anyone else?

Maybe. Just maybe…you were regaining his trust.

You all piled into his office, Inej sending a worried look your way.

Maybe not.

“Inej picked up on intel. Pekka Rollins is working with the stadwatch and Grisha now.” Kaz said, placing his hands on his desk and leaning over it.

“Why would he do that?” Jesper asked from next to you.

“Because then he hits two birds with one stone.”

What did he mean?

“I don’t get it,” Wylan responded, “ am I the only one that doesn’t get it?”

“No. I’m confused as well,” Nina added.

“He’s heard we’re harboring a Grisha that’s supposed to reward him with nearly 3 million kruge. And with the stadwatch’s help. He’ll take us down too.”

“3 million?” Jesper gawked.

Kaz wasn’t only keeping you away from Pekka. He was protecting you from the Grisha as well.

But he chose to not hand you over? Even if that meant losing 3 million kruge? And Pekka coming after him again?

“I’m sorry, Let me get this straight,” Inej started, “ You’re protecting her,” she said pointing to you, “even with a bounty of 3 million kruge over her head?”

You cowered away. 3 million could help them. Set them straight. Kaz didn’t even know the full story of what had happened to you. According to what he knew, you lived a luxurious life at the Little Palace. So why not get rid of you?

But what Kaz did next sent shivers down your spine.

“And what if I am Inej?” he asked, his tone menacing low.

The 7 of you stood there awkwardly, as you tried to stop your mind from racing.

What was Kaz thinking?

You felt an arm around your shoulders, and you did your best to stay still and not flinch at the sudden contact.

“Even if you’d decided to trade her off. I wouldn’t let you,” Jesper remarked, squeezing your shoulder lightly. He shrugged, “She’s the only fun one around here.”

You smiled at Jesper, catching the others nod from the corner of your eye.

“I don’t mean that you’re not fun to be around,” Inej smiled slightly. She turned to Kaz, “I just don’t understand him sometimes.”

Kaz’s eyes were on yours. His face was blank. His eyes, however, were swarming with all sorts of emotion. He seemed angry, confused, a little relieved and …jealous?

“If you understood him there’d be no point in his existence,” Nina chimed in.

His eyes landed on Nina, sending a glare her way, “I wanted to tell you all to be alert. Nina, see what you can find out from the stadwatch, and Inej, stick to the shadows.”

Both girls gave him quick nods, before leaving. “The rest of you, do your best to act normal,” he said, sorting through stuff on his desk.

“That’s our cue,” Jesper said, using his arm around you to guide you out, your head swarming with the information that had been laid out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night as you made your way to Kaz’s room, you had to remind yourself that there was no other logical explanation.

It had to be done.

Just as you were about to knock on the door, Kaz’s voice sounded from the room, “Come in.”

You closed the door behind you, walking in hesitantly, unsure of how you were going to tell him, and how he would take it.

But you didn’t have to.

“I won’t let you do it,” he said.

He was sitting on a chair, only one lantern illuminating the room, as shadows danced around.

You thought it depicted your heart quite well.

The light was in front of you. Disheveled hair, tired features, and an outstretched leg.

And the shadows were everything that had ever gone wrong in your life.

How much longer ‘till the light decided he was done glowing for you?

“Let me do what?” you asked, voice trembling slightly. You knew what he meant. But you couldn’t believe that he said it.

“I won’t let you turn yourself in.”

There it was.

“It’s 3 million kruge Kaz. That could get you all settled for life.”

“So what?” he asked, leaning forward. He was scarily calm, his face illuminated ever so slightly.

“So what?! So I’m saying that I should go. That I need to go. That it would keep Pekka off of you for a little while longer. Tha-”

“They’re all happy with you here.”

“Kaz-”

“They’ve warmed up to you quite fast. I’m not going to take that away from them.”

You shook your head. “3 million kruge is a lot. Imagine the wonders it would do for all of you.”

“And what about the wonders you do by being here?”

You froze.

“Nina finally has someone that gets her humor. Wylan sees you as an older sister. Jesper thinks of you as a platonic soulmate. You’re the only one Matthias doesn’t want to be all over and can tolerate. And Inej-”

“Doesn’t like me” you cut him off.

He tilted his head to the side. “You’re wrong. Yet again. She admires you.”

You shook your head. “She doesn’t trust me. She admires the fact that you haven’t kicked me out yet, there’s a difference.”

Kaz just watched you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Which I’m curious to know as well. 3 million kruge. PR, the stadwatch and grisha off of your back. What am I still doing here?” you ask, the words finally falling out of your mouth.

Kaz stilled. He looked away from you for a moment, before standing up and walking over to you.

You weren’t short, but Kaz had quite a few inches on you, and as he stood in front of you, eyes boring into yours, you felt your stomach do multiple flips.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered.

Your heart raced. “Why?” you asked, your eyes searching his.

He closed his eyes, and you felt his gloved hand over yours. Not holding your hand, not moving, just there. Your breath hitched, as his eyes opened again.

“Because, you said,” he paused, swallowing thickly as he visibly struggled to keep his eyes on yours, “you said - ‘till the tide goes still,” he looked away, unable to maintain eye contact any longer. Your eyes widened in shock. You didn’t think he’d remember.

“Yes. I did. Why are you bringing that up now?” you whispered.

He looked at you again, his eyes fierce. “You didn’t hear me say it back that night.”

You couldn’t think. It seemed as though, just for a moment, the light in the room was a little brighter. Just for a moment. Because, he couldn’t have meant in the way you had. Could he?

But before you could ask, the door swung open. You spun around as Kaz stepped away from you, both in shock.

A confused, and worried looking Jesper stood in the doorway.

“I’m sorry for ruining,” he waved his arms around, “whatever this was. But, I can’t find Wylan.”

next chapter>>

Tags: @ancientbeing10 @lila-kille @emmnf1 @gabby10100 @foulkryptonitepeanut @pinchofhoney @peaches1958 @lyria-skyfall @sabii5

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colecassidys-wife · 1 year

Note

Okay hear me out (this can be with any overwatch hero) having a s/o that is an artist and they painted them?

☁︎ — rain's notes: OUGH I saw this and that was the more aggressive clutch on my brain. I don't paint but I am a pitiful artist so this is such a good ass request... I'm gonna attempt a duo on this one because... deserved. Also to the mfs seeing the Mercy x reader tag and think it's for Angela, it's not, I'm giving you the heads up now

"I just like capturing beauty, is all."

Lúcio Correia dos Santos with an artist s/o + little bonuses ♪

Notes: GN!Reader, HE'S SO SUPPORTIVE, Lúcio is just in awe over your talents, We love short men in this house

Holy moly, you're an artist? Now that's dope as fuck to Lúcio! Granted, y'all are both artists, just in different fonts— a musician and a studio/digital artist, truly a duo! Lúcio always happens to be in awe by anything you happen to create; while he seems to only have keen ears, it becomes apparent that he has keen eyes as well. It's evident in the way he's able to admire the smallest details you know will always go overlooked by anyone else. Lúcio's adoring smile never fails to make you feel so...accomplished, if you will!

Lúcio is no stranger to dissatisfaction either— with you both being artists in two different realms, sometimes you both spend so long on something only for it to look so...wrong, for lack of a better term, in y'all's eyes. When that strikes you, Lúcio understands your disapproving frown at the piece, but he also points out everything he adores in your artwork. You appreciate he was able to find things he loves in your dissatisfactory piece, and because of that, you choose not to discard it.

Being an artist, you have muses. Sometimes they're your own thoughts, sometimes it's something you happen to see. Most of the time, though, it's quite literally Lúcio in some way. His overall demeanor is easy to knock you with some sort of inspiration— be it his smile, his music, or just something random he's doing. His personality just has this feeling you so dearly wish to capture in your art, and more often than not, you find little sketches of the upbeat frog in your sketchbook.

As you finish dragging your artistic tool across your preferred medium, you chuckle to yourself fondly as you pull back and stretch. You've done another sketch page, one simply out of boredom but with a motivation to create, and it just so happens to be random bits of Lúcio and a random few things he's done that day, along with random pictures of him on your phone that you attempted to redraw. Your favorite sketch has to be the one of your lockscreen, which was of him holding a frog. You pick up your tool again, ready to sketch again.

Lúcio looked up at you, an adoring smile on his face as he watched you concentrate on sketching once again. The way your eyebrow arched in focus made him chuckle to himself— you're so cute when you're concentrated. Your eyes look up to observe him again, and meet his eyes. You give him a warm smile along with a wave as you take in his gentle smile, his relaxed eyes, and now returned candid focus to listening to music. He's so beautiful, and you look back down at your sketch— just how can you capture your boyfriend just as how he is now? You still carry on— Lúcio never fails to make sketching entertaining for you.

Lúcio's in awe over whatever medium you happen to use to draw— this bullet point is aimed at people who paint. No matter what style you have or what types of paints you use, Lúcio will always be blown away. Mixing paints to get the colors just right, using colors to make the shading and lighting as accurate as possible— Lúcio's amazed by it! It's no surprise when you finally let him see this "secret painting" that he's over the moon. You painted him?? On this huge ass canvas?? You used various paints to...Lúcio was rendered speechless. Every little detail was something extraordinary to his eyes, and honestly? He feels like he doesn't deserve it. You just smile and reassure him that you love painting him, that he's inspiration on legs— that and he's very much your boyfriend and you find excessive joy in painting your lover. Lúcio just about picks you up(or hugs you if he cannot lift you) and maybe cries a little. Just a pinch.

For my people who draw traditionally, it's no surprise to Lúcio that you have such an incredible talent— being able to turn such a simple sketch into such a an eloquent piece using only various pens, a buncha nifty brands for coloring, and various shading and lighting techniques. When you greet Lúcio with an excited and somewhat nervous smile, showing him your latest piece, Lúcio is...??? He can't process his emotions for a moment, because you drew him in high class detail and?? He's speechless?? The amount of detail you put into this artwork, and it all being for him?? Lúcio just sits there, holding the drawing in your sketchbook and staring with absolute awe. By the way he's rendered speechless and holds the drawing so close to his face to observe every little detail informs you that he very much loves this little(big) thing you've done for him. After a moment, Lúcio pulls you into a tight hug, peppering kisses all over your face and giving you a loving "Thank you."

And for my silly little digital artists(fist bumps you all), I'm more than certain Lúcio is blown away by your talents! Digital art gets a lot of flack and getting has been called "not real art", yet Lúcio has never seen it that way, and your talents just prove that. The moments where you pull away from your device to stretch and he catches a glimpse of what you've been digitally doodling manages to steal Lúcio's breath away every time. This is further stated when you forward a specific piece of work to your frog of a boyfriend and like. Halfway across y'all's shared living space you hear a loud "Y/N WHAT??" before he darts over to you and nearly trips over his own two feet. You've sent him the finished work, all digital and a beautiful mix of colors and techniques to make some fanart of your boyfriend really pop out! And Lúcio simply asks to see the work on the device you drew it on and the details up close just make his eyes shine. You can't help the flustered feeling in your cheeks as Lúcio expresses how much he loves your work of him. Expect a mass ton of kisses and appreciative words— and maybe him asking to use it as his next album cover, so long as you are completely okay with it!

☕︎☂︎

☁︎ — bonus rain note: I'm aware Angelo isn't a main cast character yet I am in love with him anyways. Which is why he's on the list. He's an adorable himbo in my eyes. He gets a custom banner!

"It's all just practice for anatomy...it's a free lesson for myself, and I get to use my precious man as my muse!"

Angelo with an artist s/o + little bonuses ♪

Notes: GN!Reader, I love writing for concept mercy, Angelo fawning over your talents, do you like angels because goddamn have you found one

Being an artist who just so happens to be dating a doctor is like getting the biggest lift of your life. I don't say that jokingly, but dating Angelo is like having an encyclopedia of the human anatomy to help better understand how to make it all come together and look natural! Oh, you're struggling on how to angle things properly on a face? Angelo's explaining how everything works at different head tilts and such. Can't get the hips to look right? Angelo's there with an anatomy lesson at the ready. Angelo's not one to boast about being someone's main cause of being helped, but he has to admit, whenever you came to him for anatomical insight, your art seems to improve a lot more.

Reflecting on my last bullet point, that isn't to say Angelo never loved your art beforehand, because my god does he absolutely love it! If you step away from your artwork for a while, expect Angelo to act like he's mindlessly wandering around, when in reality he's making a stop to admire just how talented you are! Whether you're doing a simple sketch of a full blown piece, Angelo continues to be in awe over just how amazingly your talent comes out. Your use of colors and how you're able to do various lighting and shading techniques continue to stun the man!

Much like Lúcio, you tend to use Angelo as a muse for your works! The man is exceptionally beautiful, he has such a lovely personality accompanied with that flattering smile of his— it's hard for Angelo to not be a sense of inspiration for you. Something in his kind and caring personality, how he's a goofy and such a wonderful joy to be around...you can't help but always want to capture that! And Angelo finds that truly adorable about you. He's offered to model for you if you ever wanted, as well.

"Hope this isn't too taxing on your body, Angel. You sure you don't mind this?" You look up from your sketch to make sure he's alright. Angelo sat on a stool, his feet resting on a bar, an elbow on one of his knees as his chin rested on said elbow's hand. The other arm was simply crossed over the preoccupied arm's tricep. Angelo kept his eyes closed as he smiled in content. "Not at all. It's nice being your little model, if I may say, I'm lucky to be the subject of your amazing talent."

You feel your face warm a little at the compliment as you chuckle. Angelo's eyes flutter open at the soft noise from you, and he can't stop himself from smiling harder. He resumes to his former expression, one of relaxation, just so you can concentrate on your next piece. Angelo knows he'll undoubtedly be impressed with how you manage to capture him in your work— you always make him look more stunning than he was told he was. His eyes open again as he side eyes you to look at you. "You look very beautiful when you're concentrated."

You can't hear him, you've got music blasting into your ears again. Angelo sighs dreamily at the sight.

Much like Lúcio, Angelo has a deep love for any way you do your art, though, I'm willing to bet his compliments are a little more thought out. If you paint, Angelo might often stand in the doorway of where you paint— whether it's a studio or a just a spare room or something, Angelo stands there and watches with a big smile. You're aware of this, so it's a surprise to Angelo when you ask him to not come near your place of work for a while. Angelo's curiosity is later solved when you beckon him to follow you, and you show him what you just finished painting. Angelo's words are caught in his throat as he admires the fact that you painted him— like you spent time and and dedication and your materials to?? Paint him?? Angelo just stares at you and says you turned him into a renaissance painting. And then he has the giddiest damn smile. Ohh, to say Angelo is stunned is a thorough understatement.

If you draw traditionally, one of Angelo's favorite things is to sit next to while you draw. Whether you sketch or work on a full piece, he finds it nice to watch you practice your skill while he's next to you— perhaps while listening to music together. In such a scenario, Angelo might have fallen asleep next to you, and whiler he does, you begin to finish up a piece of artwork you kept secret from him— a full drawing of him in your sketchbook. Just a few more details to be added, and you found yourself done! Angelo awoke to the piece on the coffee table— and his eyes just sparkled. He was about to verbally praise you, only for Angelo to turn his head and see you asleep. Angelo admires every detail and aspect of this piece, how every color used comes together to give such a beautiful atmosphere in this portrait you've made for him. To say Angelo was overjoyed to receive such beauty. As soon as you wake, you find yourself on top of him— he smiles, giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead and a lovely "Thank you, my dear." gracing your ears.

BACK TO MY DIGITAL ARTISTS, just as the previous two, Angelo finds your talents incredible! Just as any art style does, yours is one that matches you perfectly— that's what he says anyways. There are times where Angelo will wake up in the middle of the night to find you working on your latest digital piece— and while he admires your dedication, Angelo will beckon(whine) you to come lay down/turn your device off so you can sleep. However, one night where Angelo is a little more tired and worn out than normal, Angelo seeks your comfort. Once again, you're drawing away, and so he asks for a simple hug. You finish up a few details on the piece as you walk over and embrace him tightly. "Welcome home, Angel." You say, showing him the little gift you've made for him, that you've worked on for a few weeks. Angelo's breath is stolen away as I takes a moment to examine your artwork— a fine capture of him, of how beautiful you saw him as(is what you said). Angelo, in a mix of exhaustion and awe, holds you tightly, a kiss to your forehead following suit. "This is...more than I can describe with words. My love, your skills have never failed to impress me, and now you've..." Angelo can't think of the words other than kissing you again, and saying thank you.

#🌧️requested #overwatch x reader #overwatch #lucio correia dos santos #lucio correia dos santos x reader #lucio x reader #overwatch lucio x reader #overwatch lucio #angelo x reader #concept mercy x reader #concept mercy #<- do i tag this as mercy x reader??#fuck it #mercy x reader #overwatch mercy x reader #<- head tags and note #this not for angela

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bathsaltsmcgee · 2 months

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My thoughts on HH and some other stuff, too

Wow, y'all. Just... just Wow.

Okay, first off, I just wanted to say that I am absolutely blown away by the sheer amount and scope of all the attention that I've gotten this past week or so regarding my story BtM. I was truly not expecting that, and for my readership to explode exponentially since the last time I posted, it's amazing to me the number of followers I've gained, the people who've stopped by to say hello, the messages, the comments, the subscriptions and favorites, the everything else, and I just wanted to say thank you.

Reading everyone's reactions and seeing them get so excited and hyped up about something that I truly care about really makes writing worth it.

So, I'm thrilled that everyone's having so much fun. :D I know I am!

Anyway, I've had a couple people reach out to me, requesting my thoughts regarding the first season of Hazbin Hotel, and I thought to myself, 'Oh, why not?'

So, here we are.

Overall, I greatly enjoyed it. The animation was crisp and pretty to look at, the songs were absolute bops, as was the background soundtrack, the overarching narrative was interesting, and the characters, barring a few notable exceptions here and there- *cough* icky moth man who needs squished flat with a metal cleat and the world's first grandiose malignant narcissist- were quite enjoyable.

They were all well written, of course, but, good Lord, some of them were just truly heinous people.

I think, out of that of all of the new characters to which we were introduced in the series that didn't hold speaking roles in the pilot, I think my favorite was a tie between Rosie and Emily. Rosie was exactly who I hoped she'd be, Dolly Levi with a dash of Mary Poppins- she even gave out her business card to that one cannibal lady like Dolly did all the time in 'Hello Dolly'- and Emily was such an adorable little bean. We need more of both those ladies in the future.

The biggest surprise out of the whole show for me, though, was finding out that the hotel actually worked. I genuinely was not expecting that, and I suspect that the exercises that Charlie was making everyone do didn't really do that much, but the situations in which the characters found themselves and how they chose to react to those situations because of their experiences at the hotel were what really clinched it in the end.

I'm very proud of Pen, though. Good for you, man. Goin' out like a champ and getting into Heaven by total accident. Well done.

Mind you, I did have a few gripes here and there, such as the rushed nature of the pacing, but I doubt that I'm alone in that particular camp. The pacing of the overarching narrative was a bit rushed for my taste, and when I'm watching a show, I would prefer not to feel at the end of it like I was in the middle of a caffeine bender.

If I'm going to do that, I'll drink two pots of coffee, follow it up with a latte, and see where it goes from there.

It was almost like deciding to make soup, but not adding any water to the condensed can, so it ended up way too thick and not nearly as smooth as it could've been, had the water been included.

Had they taken the same amount of plot and spread it out over twelve episodes, instead of just eight, it would've been a bit more evenly balanced, and we might have gotten more character moments and interactions to really sell the growing bonds between the main cast, which would've made the other narrative points that much more powerful, such as Pen's noble sacrifice.

However, the number of episodes was probably down to studio constraints and the bigwigs decision to keep the series compressed because money, so I won't hold that against the production team.

That's just business. It happens. No big deal.

So, all in all, it was a fun little romp. Alastor is still my favorite character, because he's just so interesting and multifaceted, and by the end of the season, I had far more questions about him than I did answers.

This is a good thing, though.

I'd be disappointed if he were too easy a character to read.

There's a lot going on there with him, and his morality is too grey and muddled with far too many unknown factors to make a definitive take on him just yet. I still think that my initial understanding of him is on the right track, such as his MO, but I am curious to see where this goes in the official narrative.

So, yes, I will be staying tuned for the next season.

However... just curious here.

Are we really going to have to wait another two years for the next season?!

Because I heard a rumor circulating that that was the case, and I'm kind of hoping that's not accurate.

#bathsaltsmcgee #B answers stuff #Hazbin hotel #q and a session #B's bad opinion corner #I still don't know what to call this

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raveneira · 8 months

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Anti ksu post, don't like don't read.

Pfffffft my recent post aged beautifully, everybody talking bout how Sumire is gonna pretend to like Kawaki and end up actually falling for him are in the mud cuz neither she nor Sarada even bothered to hide that they were unaffected from Ada or anyone else for that matter 😭 can't believe anybody had the gall to call ksa dead but still believed ksu was alive, talk about delusional.

How many times do ppl gotta tell y'all that in the Naruto verse, when a girl falls in love she never moves on whether their feelings are reciprocated or not, they stay in love for life, hence why ino was the only one who moved on because her feelings for Sasuke were shown not to be that deep when she dreamed of him and Sai fighting over her, meaning she was open to being with either one.

You never saw any hint of interest for anyone else from Konan, Tsunade, Sakura, Hinata, Karin, Kurenai, Mito, Yugao, or any other girl who lost their loves, they were all devoted to who they loved and refused to accept anyone else, it was them or nobody.

So HOW y'all thought Sumire was actually gonna fall for Kawaki and move on from Boruto when she's shown being just as devoted to him and him alone I will never know, but unlike y'all try to paint ksa, ksu actually IS dead and it's time to let it go.

It was a crack ship fueled by nothing but headcanon and keeping borusara safe from the start, and it's a crack ship fueled by nothing but headcanon in the end.

Congratulations, Y'all played y'all selves, that's yet another one of your desperate keep away ships blown out of the water right next to kawahima, can't wait till kawaada gets shot down too cuz don't none of y'all keep away ships ever last long after yall start em, they always flop.

Not to be petty but y'all were way too overconfident for something that had zero basis in canon, so much so the anime had to throw y'all some bones just to make her seem relevant in Kawakis circle only to be shown she's not even considered one of his bonds by him, plus the manga completely disregarded what little bones they were thrown by the anime and pushed her feelings and bond with Boruto even harder. But y'all kept ignoring all that and kept fixating on your head canons treating them as canon only for the ACTUAL canon to slap you in the face, so I feel zero sympathy for this ships demise, I really don't, it was never genuine in the first place and always came at the expense of Sumire and Kawakis own feelings so yea, I don't respect it or it's shippers because it was all fake forced bs.

As for the maybe 2 ppl who genuinely did like this garbage I'm not referring to you, I'm referring to the fakes who tried to pretend like they were on your side but really weren't.

Disclaimer: I am in no way telling ppl they have to stop shipping ksu now cuz it's dead, zutara and makkora are both dead ships and ppl still ship them because who gives af? Ppl ignore canon all the time. All IM saying is since the ship has sunk you should probably get off your high horse now cuz your in no position to talk about any other ships status or probability cuz yours is gone now, I'm not telling you to stop shipping, I'm just saying it's time to be humble.

#boruto manga #manga spoilers #anti-bsa #pro borusumi #anti ksu #anti-ksu

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azurdlywisterious · 1 month

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The Brainless Ones (part 2)

AN: I'm back with more of Sir’s adventures! I wanted more Sir so now y'all get more Sir.

Word count: 1.3k

CW: body horror played for comedy (idk how else to describe sir’s empty head), very unethical scientific practices, body horror not played for comedy (if the centaurs count as body horror but I think they do)

“Where are we heading, Beagle?”

He runs his fingers through his silver hair. “End goal, New Vegas. But right now, we’re going towards a little town called Novac.”

“I’ve walked this way before,” I observe. “Where is Novac on this map?”

I show him the screen built into my arm, which currently has a map of the area pulled up.

“I’m never gonna get used to this,” he mutters under his breath as he examines the map. "Uh, I think it's around here?"

He taps a spot on the map and a waypoint appears on the map. There's a small ping! noise, which causes Beagle to jump.

"You're very nervous," I observe.

"I still haven't fully grasped that this is my new reality," he retorts. "I've heard of lots of terrifying things out here in these sandy wastes."

"My interest has been piqued. What kind of things?"

"Radscorpions, geckos, the Powder Gangers out by the NCRCF..."

His voice trails off at that last one. His eyes lose focus, like he's seeing something playing out miles in front of us. I put my head as close to his as possible and zoom my eyes in as much as they can.

"What are you looking at?"

He jolts and does a small hop away from me. I can feel warm air on my skin. Is that his breathing? Dr. Dala told me about breathing, what it looked like, what it felt like. I don’t fully understand her obsession with it, but I am starting to gain my own appreciation for the habit.

“I was just… remembering something,” he says to me after he’s regained his bearings. “Nothing that a pretty lady like you should worry her pretty little head about.”

“Right,” I respond, disinterested in whatever it is he’s hiding. I continue to walk since he spotted nothing.

“Wait!” He half jogs to catch up to me. “Don’t you want to know what I was thinking of?”

“You can tell me if you want,” I reply, “but right now our main goal is Novac; and all this sand being blown by the wind is getting in my eyes.”

He doesn’t respond, instead lighting up another cigarette as we walk.

"We aren't walking on a road," I state. "Is there any reason for this?"

"Well, according to the maps, this is the fastest way to Novac," he tells me. "There is a longer route following the main road that crosses through a town called Nipton, but that place gives me the creeps.”

“Elaborate.”

“It's been radio silent for weeks. If anything happened down there, i doubt that it would be anything good.”

“You imply that Nipton is south?”

“Weird way of phrasin’ it,” Beagle remarks, “but yeah, I suppose so.”

I stop to show him a point on the map in my arm. “Is this Nipton?”

“Probably.”

“Then I’ve been there,” I inform him. “Boring place. Just a bunch of dead lobotomites everywhere.”

All he says in response to that is, “Oh,” before holding his cigarette in place with his teeth and shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

I continue to walk and he follows suit.

After a long while of silence, Beagle plucks the remains of his cigarette from his teeth, flicks it away, and asks me, “So what is a pretty lady like you doing wandering the desert all by her lonesome?”

“The great minds of the Think Tank made me to explore the new world beyond Big MT in their stead so that they may study it from the safety of their labs.”

“Wait…” He starts counting on his fingers before giving up entirely. “How old are you?”

“Depends,” I reply.

“Depends?”

“The body is roughly 26 years old, the computer parts that keep the body functioning are a few days old, and the data programmed onto my hard drives encompasses all of scientific knowledge that humanity has ever recorded and the Think Tank had ever saved to their computers. Though all of the components have been together for 32 days.”

“So you're 32 days old?”

“It appears so. Like Athena from the myths of the Old World, I emerged from the Think Tank fully formed.”

“Who’s Athena?”

I start to reply, but a flicker of movement from the neighboring hill catches my attention. I place a finger to my lips and crouch down. I zoom my sight in and study the creatures that caught my attention. The top half is a lobotomite torso and head, but the bottom half is a mass of tissue and extra arms acting as legs. Three tendrils hang out of its mouth like long tongues and it has no true arms.

Beagle notices what I’m looking at and grabs his gun. He’s aiming it wildly due to his shaking hands, a phenomena caused by the sudden influx of adrenaline in his body.

I gently lower the gun for him and start to quietly move closer, calibrating my long distance lasers as I move. The LRADs are already primed.

Using the pointed tip of my thumbnail as a scope, I aim a laser right between the thing’s eyes.

“Fascinating,” I remark as I see it spit sludge in our direction, taking plenty of photos as it does so. “One shot isn't enough to kill it.”

“What?” Beagle squeaks and pulls out a voice recorder. I gently lower that too before he starts talking into it.

The creature’s aim is not good enough to hit us with the sludge. That doesn't stop it from setting off my internal Geiger counter. My skin feels crackly. I need to end this quick.

The thing is charging at me and Beagle is starting to try and take voice memos again. I roll my eyes and let him. I just turn my ears off and fire enough shots to fell the beast.

I blow on my index finger to cool it off before extending the opposite hand to Beagle. I feel his hand vibrating on contact, so I grip it tightly to get it to stop shaking.

I lead him over to the corpse, the whole time him describing the encounter into his voice recorder in strikingly accurate detail. Despite his trembling hands, his voice is rather level, and nice to listen to. It’s soft and smooth, like the half melted butter on top of the waffles in those commercial breaks that Dr. 0 accidentally recorded along with his movies.

I turn my ears back off to remember to take more photos of the thing before teleporting it off to the Think Tank. I wince a bit as my still hot index finger lightly burns my temple.

I turn my ears back on, ready to listen to him talk; but all I hear is unvoiced gasping. I’m on alert.

“What is it?” I whisper urgently.

“The thing,” he points to where the creature once was. “It’s gone!”

“I teleported the cadaver back to Big MT,” I tell him, hovering my fingers by my temple. “Remember, if something bad happens to me while we’re out here, press on my temples and we’ll be teleported back to safety.”

He nods solemnly, processing the information as clear as day behind his eyes. As my science deputy, he deserves to know how to activate the teleported in case of an emergency.

He takes my arm, studies it, and places a new waypoint, saying, “I don’t wanna run into another one of those things. If we go up from here and then start cutting across, we should be fine.”

“Why not just go south to Nipton?”

He stares off into the distance and lights up another smoke. “There’s something that needs to be done up there anyways. And you’re just the person to help me.”

“Then why not just go directly to New Vegas?”

“Deathclaws,” Beagle replies coolly, taking another well timed drag of his cigarette.

“What are deathclaws?” I ask him.

“Nothing good,” he responds, gently lowering my arm for me; as if wanting to reach for my hand but not having enough courage to do so. “I’ll tell ya later.”

"When?"

"After you help me clean out the NCRCF."

#fallout new vegas #old world blues #fallout fic #sir of big mt #the brainless ones

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