#refreshing blue soap

[prismstonearchives]

さわやかブルーシャボン - Refreshing Blue Soap

[illbegottenfaith]

bad day - theo nott x reader

a visit from your boyfriend perks you up even on the most frustrating of days

a/n - my first theo nott fic! I’ve written for other fandom(s) so this was a nice change, hope you enjoy :

tropes/warnings - established relationship, a pet name here or there, nothing overwhelming, fluff, comfort, nothing 18+ but a brief alluding to it

word count - 1k

“Off.”

As a general rule of thumb, you were typically the clingier half of your relationship with Theo. There was something about the feel of his skin against yours and the way his touch grounded you that made you feel safe and cared for in ways you were still too embarrassed to express out loud. Theo was always happy to indulge, casually draping an arm across your shoulders and rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder.

However, like all rules, it came with its exception - particularly, when you were studying. You needed to focus on your work, and that wasn’t exactly possible with the delicious warmth of Theo pressed against your back or hip. For the most part, he stayed well away when you needed him to, but something about the adrenaline of Quidditch practice made him extra excitable. Which was how you found yourself pouring over a hellish Charms essay in the Slytherin common room late one night, when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your middle and a familiar weight rest in the crook of your neck.

“Theo, I mean it,” you whined as he slid into the seat next to yours, refusing to relinquish his hold on you, effortlessly dragging you onto his lap. Your irritation evaporated at the sight of his boyish blue eyes and his sloping smile. It was a problem, really, how you could never stay mad at him. Merlin knows his ego is bad enough as it is.

“Hey, doll.” His nose nudged yours and you finally relented, wrapping an arm around his neck as he kissed you. His face felt cool against your warm forehead, and he smelt pleasantly of some non-descript yet refreshing soap. 

“My neck is killing me,” you mumbled against his lips as you broke apart. Theo leaned back to get a better look at your wan face, distractedly running a hand down your spine.

“Have you had dinner yet?”

“Yes,” you frowned, “with you. Remember?”

Theo stared at you blankly. “Y/N. I’ve been at Quidditch practice for the past four hours.”

“What are you talking about? We had dinner, then we came up to the common room, and it was, y’know, freezing, and I said I needed to buy more fleece-lined tights, and you started saying something about liking me best without any tights, but then those fifth-years started wrestling each other over that game of -“

“- Gobstones?”

“Exactly!”

“Babe, that was last Thursday.”

Your face fell. “…it was. Merlin.” Theo watched, amused, as you let out a string of curses under your breath as you flipped through your planner, scowling. “It’s this stupid Charms essay that’s doing me in. I haven’t had my head on straight all week. Remember when I wore my earmuffs to breakfast on Tuesday?”

“Mhm.”

“Made a proper arse of myself at 8 in the morning. And I genuinely thought I saw you just an hour ago. I don’t know what came over me.” 

“I didn’t know I was so forgettable of a boyfriend,” Theo teased, as you buried your face into your hands. 

“Stop. I feel awful enough already,” came your muffled voice. Laughing, he took your hands in his own, his features softening at the exhausted look on your face.

“Rough day, baby?” You groaned, burying your face into his chest as he wrapped his other arm around you. Before meeting Theo, you took pride in how fiercely independent you were. Even now, you were more than capable of handling your daily stresses just as well as the next guy, but you still had the tendency of being tightly wound more often than not, and sometimes it just felt nice to have someone hold you while you cried about how awful life was. No one could help you or get you to decompress the way Theo did.

“Rough week, more like,” you mumbled into his collarbone. He hummed sympathetically, hand still running up and down your spine.

“You didn’t say a word.”

“It could have been worse. I thought I’d just…you know. Deal.”

You could hear the amused lilt to his voice. “Deal?”

“Deal with it. On my own, I mean.”

His hold on you tightened a fraction. “Have dinner with me.”

“Didn’t you eat before practice?”

“Hm. Have supper with me.”

“Theo.”

“What?”

You sighed. You were never one to turn in an assignment late but, Merlin - he didn’t make things easy for you. 

“I really need to get this essay done.”

“So you’ll get it done. After supper. I could take a look at it for you. Or your neck. Or both.”

You snorted. “Yeah, sure, because a distraction is just what I need now. You don’t even take N.E.W.T level Charms.”

“So you find me distracting?”

You pressed your lips together, biting the inside of your cheek. “Let me put it this way. If I, um, ‘have supper’ with you now, this essay will not reach Flitwick’s desk by 10 am tomorrow.”

Theo didn't look too happy about anything you were saying. “So what do you want me to do?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Like any other guy, Theo could only sympathise for so long before he was bursting with advice or solutions. You glanced at the clock, getting the distinct impression that he was valiantly trying to stifle a yawn. 

“Go, leave, shoo. Get some rest, read a book, start a fight with some fifth-years, I don’t know. I just need to bully myself into finishing this. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“But I don’t want to start a fight with some sticky-fingered Gobstones-playing fifth-years.”

Still, he reluctantly slid you off his lap, pressing a kiss to your forehead before briefly disappearing. He returned with a huge, ancient book whose weathered cover seemed somewhat related to Potions. He arched an eyebrow as you made a face at it.

“What’s that?”

“What’s that?” You shot back, looking greatly repulsed by the gnarly volume.

“Some light bedtime reading material,” he quipped. You watched his face nervously, the tell-tale signs of fatigue knitted into the creases of his achingly beautiful face.

“I mean it, Teddy. You really should go to bed.”

“Can’t. I’ve got a date in an hour.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I’m taking this really pretty girl out for supper.”

You rolled your eyes as Theo settled into his seat, cracking the disfigured tome open.

“Smooth-talker.”

[sugarrrvenomm]

even though the stars are blind // obi-wan x reader

hello h word for obi-wan nation ! yes the title is from the paris hilton song.

word count: 4k

summary: master kenobi lets you use his shower after a mission, among other things

You really think you’re imagining things when Obi-Wan asks you to stay behind after the briefing is over and offers you his personal water sonic to use rather than the communal one used by his men. It’s not the request itself that has you wondering if you’re still sane—you’ve never known him to be anything other than a perfect gentlemen—it’s the look on his face while he says it. Those grey-blue eyes narrow into something darker; moodier, and the corner of his mouth ticks up, so slightly you’d miss it under his beard if you weren’t already glancing down at his lips. 

After you obviously agree (even if you’re hallucinating the look in his eyes, you still want the privacy of his sonic), his com-link chimes, and the last thing he does before he saunters off to whatever part of the ship is calling for him, he stops by your side and tells you the code to his personal quarters, accent lilting while he takes your hand in his own and pretends to punch in the numbers on your palm. 

You wonder what he keeps in his sonic that makes him smell so good. The thought of being amongst his personal things, even mundane ones like soap, curls in your stomach and makes you sweat behind your knees as you walk through the Negotiator’s seemingly endless halls. It takes longer than you expect to find his quarter’s, but that’s most likely because you were too shy to ask a clone for directions to their general’s private rooms. When you finally reach his door, you’re glad no one else is in the corridor to see you walk in—you can can only the hope it’ll be the same when you walk out, with wet hair and fresh clothes. 

Unsurprisingly, Obi-Wan’s quarter’s are nearly spotless. The messiest part is the desk; an obscene amount of data-pads stacked and a few half-empty cups of caf decorating it. Aside from that, the only sign someone lives in here at all is the unmade bed—which just the sight of sends an illicit thrill through you. It’s surely gone cold by now, but you make yourself blush by imagining running your hand along the place where he lies at night, feeling the heated impression of him in the mattress. Obi-Wan is one of, if not the, most stressed Jedi you know. What does he do in this bed to relieve that?

The rush of heat that dives between your legs at the thought has you pressing your thighs together, and you dart to the refresher, not wanting Obi-Wan to return and find you staring at his bed and panting like a hound. 

After turning on the water sonic, you strip, and that feels illicit too. He’s got a basket with worn clothing in it, but after deciding it might be an overstep to toss yours in, you leave your dirty robes on the floor; picking up your tunic with a pointed toe and draping it over your panties so they’re not visible. 

In the sonic, you find out nothing in here is the reason Obi-Wan smells so delicious. Everything on his single shelf is GAR-issued, and smells of nothing. That doesn’t change the fact that washing your hair with his shampoo, and running your hands all over your body with the same soap he touches his own with doesn’t excite you. Just looking down at your feet and knowing he stands in this very spot, naked and wet, is enough to make you pulse between your legs. You spend a little too long massaging your tits, squeezing the flesh between your fingers and making your nipples tighten—but you don’t dare to actually touch yourself. Partly because you don’t want to use all his hot water, partly because you’re not sure you could keep quiet. So, you force yourself to finish up relatively quickly, turning off the water and calling a towel to yourself with the Force so you don’t drip onto the floors. 

You’re sleepwear comprises of shorts and a soft, oversized tunic. Normally, you’d go without underwear underneath, but this time you slide a pair on. Something about being around Obi-Wan makes you want to be proper—good. You don’t dare walk around his ship in your thin, tiny shorts barely concealing your pussy. Though, not even his influence can make you wear a bra. 

The wet ends of your hair soaking the shoulders of your shirt make you rub your towel over your head like a youngling, it’s not the normal way you’d treat your hair, but it’ll have to do. Of course, it tangles the strands something terrible, and you groan when you can’t quite pull your brush through a few stubborn spots. Prepared to give up, you gather your things and palm the ‘fresher door open—and there is Obi-Wan; sitting at his desk, legs spread wildly like the almost always are when he sits. He’s stripped down to his under-tunics, and you feel oddly endeared at the sight of his socked feet. 

“I’ll have to call you back, Anakin,” he says hand reaching for his com-link, eyes on you. 

“When?” The static voice of his former Padawan asks. 

“Later,” is all Obi-Wan says before he hangs up.

“Thank you,” you rush to say after the call disconnects. 

He keeps looking at you, eyes never dipping below your face, a single finger dragging along his bearded jawline. “Of course,” he offers simply, mouth curving up like it did in the briefing. “I hope it was to your liking.”

Even this small talk makes you blush; his presence overwhelms you. Nodding in response, you look down at the brush still in your hand, then back up with him. “Any chance they make GAR-issued detangler?” 

When your attempt at a joke actually lands, and he breaks into a full, chuckling smile, you breathe a sigh of relief and light up inside. You stomp down the urge to climb into his lap and lick his teeth. “I don’t think so,” he says, leaning forward in his chair. “But perhaps I could help—Force knows I’ve tamed the gundark’s nest of Anakin’s hair before. I’m rather handy with a brush.”

“Really?” You try not to squeak it out, but you’re sure it comes out that way regardless. More so, you hope he doesn’t see the way your toes curl in response to his offer. It’s all you can do not to squirm completely. 

Obi-Wan nods, tilting his head and smiling at you. “If you’d like.”

You nod, crossing your arms in front of you—which reminds you of the fact that you’re not wearing a bra. Obi-Wan stands and walks to his bed, sitting back against the headboard and making you lose your breath. Surely he’s not going to—

“Come here, darling,” he beckons, curling two fingers to signal you closer. When you take a step, he spreads his legs and pats the space between them. 

Dropping your bag, you climb onto the bed, mindful of your shorts riding up. One of your calves brushes his when you climb over his leg and that alone makes your breath quicken. When you sit, there’s inches of space between your bodies; of course, you imagine there’s not, though. You imagine you’re pressed as close to him as possible, feeling his strong chest against your shoulder blades. Looking down, your bare feet seem small in-between his. 

“Now, let’s see if we can get you sorted,” Obi-Wan mumbles, so close it almost makes you flinch. As you try to keep your breathing steady, you feel a hand cascade down your hair, and can hear him stroking the brush through the ends of it, working his way up a small section until the brush glides smoothly. It goes on like this for a few moments, him softly touching you without pause—until he reaches one of the knots, and you hear him grumble in response to the brush getting stuck. When he pulls it free, you hiss, and he murmurs back a cooing sound. “Delicate thing.”

You want to protest, but his voice lulls you away from the urge, as does the way he’s working the knot in your hair with his fingers, dragging strands out of the mess until you feel the brush against you again, and this time it runs through easily. 

“There we are,” Obi-Wan murmurs, and he sounds so pleased, like you had done something right; you can’t help but preen a little, smiling to yourself while he keeps brushing until he hits another knot. This time, he wiggles the brush free far gentler, making sure you feel no pain, and then he’s repeating the process from before, meticulously separating your hair until the brush can pass through. You both fall into silence as he works, and despite the heat between your thighs only burning hotter and hotter, his touch calms you until you’re so relaxed it’s almost as if you’re meditating. If you were paying better attention, you might be able to tell that at some point he’s brushed through all the knots, and has started randomly running the brush through your hair while you purr like a loth-cat.

“Feels good,” you murmur.

“Hm?” Obi-Wan hums.

“Haven’t had someone play with my hair in years—since I was a youngling, I think.”

There’s a sound, and you know without looking that it’s Obi-Wan setting your hairbrush on the small table next to his bed. It seems unnervingly loud, for some reason. You shiver when his hand brushes your hair back on one side, moving it to cascade down your back as he leans forward to murmur, “Is there anything else you’d like me to play with?”

All you can do is whisper, “Obi-Wan,” in the neediest voice you’ve ever heard come out of your mouth, and that seems to be all the confirmation he needs. You feel his hand press against your tummy, broad and warm even through your shirt, giving you goosebumps. He uses it to pull you back against him, erasing the space between your bodies just like you’d imagined earlier, but it’s still not enough. You want—need—to feel his skin, so you start to turn in hopes of getting his shirt off, but you’re stopped by an arm across your torso, with a thumb tracing the underside of your breast. 

“Relax. You’ve worked so hard today, done so well. Let me take care of you.” The words are spoken into your neck, and his praise makes you squirm. The arm holding you only tightens, while his other one reaches down and tugs down your shorts, leaving you in your panties that you only wore to be polite for him. His big hand cups your cunt, rubbing lazily with no intent other than to rile you up. It fucking works, and you claw at his wrist and whine. 

“Just—off,” you plead. 

Obi-Wan doesn’t listen, instead nuzzling his thumb against you until he’s putting pressure on your clit. “Or I could keep rubbing you like this; watch you soak the fabric.”

You blush, but let him do as he pleases until you can’t stand it anymore and pull down the underwear yourself. When you do, you can see the wet spot that’s more like a puddle you’ve left in them, making you shyly draw your legs together. Obi-Wan snickering behind you only makes it worse. 

“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed about how needy you are,” he drawls into your ear, rubbing your thigh. “Let me see your cunt, pretty thing.” You let him part your legs, and have to reach down and dig your nails into his thigh when he slides his fingers along you, groaning a low sound as he does it. Even if you hadn’t seen the state of your underwear, you’d be able to tell you’re soaked by how easily he slides one of his large fingers inside of you.

It’s a single finger, but it fills you up so good you moan and writhe on it, rutting forward to try and get friction elsewhere. “My—my clit,” you mumble, eyes closed, head tipping back onto his shoulder.

“Of course, my darling,” Obi-Wan tells you, before slipping his finger our and dragging it up and adding another to swirl around the swollen bud, making you grit your teeth and arch your back. You feel like you’ve been wet since he looked at you in the briefing room—finally getting touched where you longed for it all this time has to careening to the edge startlingly fast, especially since Obi-Wan picks up on what you like easily, spreading your lips with one hand and keeping your clit vulnerable for him to rub steady circles on, every so often catching it between his fingers and squeezing gently. Every touch makes you gush—at least, it feels that way. 

Your legs begin to shake, and that’s when he pulls away. There’s no time to protest before he’s pulling you even closer, to speak hotly against your cheek. “I want your soaked little pussy on my face, darling.”

You groan at the thought, but with the way he’s dragged you closer, you can now feel the hard line of his cock digging into you, and you groan even louder when you imagine taking him into your mouth. Right now, there’s nothing you want more than to see what the great, composed, Master Kenobi looks like when he’s getting his cock sucked. You project the thought, and almost expect a remark about inappropriate use of the Force, but Obi-Wan just nips your jaw and asks, “You want that?”

When you turn your head, he finally, finally kisses you. It’s wet, and messy—but his tongue sliding against yours might be the best thing you’ve ever felt. You can tell he knows what he’s doing, and for some reason, that makes your pussy throb. 

“So much,” you answer against his mouth, and he hums a pleased sound before sucking your earlobe into his mouth. 

“I’m sure a clever girl like you can come up with a way for us both to get what we want, can’t you?” 

You feel his smirk against your skin, along with the way your ears burn. Still, you’re determined to please him, so you turn around to sit between his legs facing him. As soon as you make eye contact, he lunges forward to kiss you, but you retreat back out of his reach and pull at his hips until he takes the hint and inches down the bed until he’s laying down. With one more pull, he lifts his hips and you tug down his trousers—he’s not wearing anything underneath.

Spit pools in your mouth at the sight of Obi-Wan’s cock—it’s perfect, you think to yourself. Big enough to make your eyes roll back but not so big that you couldn’t take him without pain. It’s blushing pink at the tip and dribbling pre-come, messy and wet just like your pussy. You want to touch it so badly, to feel the warmth and weight of it, to feel the head of him streak your palm with pre-come, so you do touch him, taking him in hand softly and moaning quietly at how soft his skin is here.

A hand on your face pulls you out of your one-track mind, and you’re tilted up until you see Obi-Wan propped up on one elbow, staring down at you, cheeks pink, mouth smirking, one strand of hair hanging out of place. “Let me eat your cunt, sweetheart,” he rumbles, rubbing his thumb along your lower lip. 

You almost say yes, master—but just barely manage to hold it in. With his guiding hands, you crawl back up his body and try not to burn up in your shyness when he turns you around so you’re sitting on his chest, facing his cock. With a hand sliding up your back, Obi-Wan gently pushes you down until you’re forced to spread your legs and arch your back. You take a moment to gather yourself, puffing out a breath and washing the way the hairs around his cock move with it. 

Obi-Wan, however, needs no breather. He cups your backside and squeezes harshly. “You really should wear more traditional robes. I thought I was going to get myself killed today being distracted by you and your ass.” Language wise, it’s not the crudest thing he’s said to you tonight, but hearing Obi-Wan Kenobi admit he’s not above staring at your ass and getting turned on by it in the field makes you feel dirtier than ever. You spread your legs even further, and then nearly collapse on his chest at the feeling of his tongue licking a hot, wet line up your center before kissing your folds messily, teasing you. 

In response, you drag your tongue up the length of his cock, humming a happy sound when he twitches and pushes his hips up. When you take the head into your mouth, you drool all over it, making it messy immediately, coating it in spit and placing sweet kisses on the leaking slit. Obi-Wan moans against your cunt where he’s switching between dipping his tongue into you and sucking gently on your clit. You sink down, eyes watering the deeper you go. His cock is still perfect—filling up your mouth and tasting so good and being so pretty; taking it is just difficult enough to be a challenge, but not one that you don’t want to take on. Bobbing your head, you hollow your cheeks and hum around him as you press you hips back. You wonder if his face is getting as messy as yours is, dragging your lips off go him to sloppily jerk him off, using you other hand to drag your hair that’s now plastered to your wet cheeks away. 

You stop stroking him, but only to slide your hand down and cup his heavy looking balls, earning you the loudest groan you’ve gotten out of him yet. It’s almost like he’s more sensitive here than his actual cock. On a whim, you spit, foamy and warm, onto his balls before taking them in hand and rolling them in your palm, separating them with a thumb and massaging. An even louder sound is made against your cunt, so loud it vibrates against you and makes you gasp. Then, Obi-Wan closes his lips around your swollen clit and sucks so hard you see stars. It’s so overwhelming your body doesn’t know whether to push into or away from it, and you end up pushing up on Obi-Wan’s stomach, squirming and crying out, mouth hung open. 

He doesn’t let you go anywhere, though. With a durasteel grip on your thighs, Obi-Wan holds you down, keeping his mouth on your cunt, lifting his head when you try to shy away from him. He continues like this, sucking and licking and moaning, until you’re sure you’re about to make a mess and soak his beard entirely—and once again, he stops before you’re pushed over the edge. 

Your head’s still spinning when he gets himself out from under you and turns you around to face him; both of you kneeling on the bed. Obi-Wan brushes back your hair, cups your face in his hands, and pulls you in for a wet kiss, both of of you moaning at the taste of each other. When you reach for his jaw, you feel how wet his beard has become and mewl against his mouth. He tugs you closer, and his big cock rubs up against your shirt that you cannot believe you still have on, and separating from him for the one second you take to rip it off is torture. Now you feel his cock, hard and leaking, pressed against your tummy, making him let out the neediest sounds that go straight to your cunt, and so quickly it becomes not enough—you take him in hand and guide his cock between your legs, not inside of you, just stroking along your folds, soaking him and  grinding your cunt on his length. 

“Don’t tease me,” he gasps. He looks so fucking good like this—sweaty and disheveled with that one fucking hair hanging over his forehead—that you can’t deny him. You push him back on the bed and straddle him once more, but just as the head of his cock presses against you, his strong grip on your hips halts you from sinking down. Blinking, you look down at him and make a questioning noise. 

Obi-Wan looks at you just like he did in the briefing room. “Tell me you want it,” he says. 

“I want it,” you say automatically. 

“More.”

“Obi-Wan,” you whine, “Please, give me your cock. I want it so bad. I need you fuck me full of your cock.”

He lets you go, and your hips meet his with an obscene, wet noise. “Baby,” he groans, and you cry out at both the way he feels stuffing you full and at the new pet-name. You only sit on him like this for a few seconds before he sits up, making you feel even fuller, then he barrels you over so he’s on top, hiking your legs up to hook in the crooks of his elbows, staring down at you and panting. “Tight little pussy,” he groans. “Taking me so well—you look so pretty on my cock, darling. Is this what you wanted?”

You nod deliriously, bucking your hips to tempt him into moving, and he does, sliding out and back in far slower than you need him to. Still, at this angle, you can feel the hair above his cock drag rough and slow against your clit, so you arch you back and rake your nails down his. “Yes, yes,” you chant. “So bad.”

Obi-Wan picks up the pace, but just barely. “Is this what you imagined when I said you could use my sonic?”

Again, you nod, and he picks up speed.

“I could tell,” he murmurs, “You looked so shy, but I knew you’d have bent over the holo-table for me right then if I’d asked. Practically begging me to use your wet little pussy with the looks you were giving me.”

You had been so focused on the way Obi-Wan was looking at you in the briefing room you hadn’t given much thought to how you were looking at him. Perhaps you were giving him that kind of look; the kind that said you wanted him to spank you and come on your face. It wouldn’t have been inaccurate. He must take your lack of response as an admission, because he laughs and fucks you harder, finally pushing into you at the pace you need. You shake and moan, and he coos at you, “I know, baby,” before grabbing your hand and sucking the tips of three fingers in your mouth and then leading them down between your legs. “Touch yourself—give your needy fucking clit some attention. I want to feel your cunt throb on my cock.”

Doing as he says, you stroke and circle your clit the best you can as Obi-Wan fucks into you, slapping your hips together and moaning. With your free hand, you claw at his chest, groping one of his heaving pecs, which makes his hips stutter. The knot in your gut grows tighter and tighter, and the pulse between your legs becomes stronger and stronger until you can barely stand to keep moving your fingers, but you keep going, pushing yourself closer and closer to the edge, tightening your thighs around him, arching your back, chanting his name, “Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan.”

“That’s right, darling, come for me. Come all over this fat fucking cock,” he grits out, and just like the knots in your hair, he loosens the one in your stomach—and you come so hard you feel him wince with how fiercely you’re digging your nails into him. You curse and scream and quake as he doesn’t let up his thrusts, feeling as if he’s making your orgasm never-ending, until he buries himself deep one last time, and lets out the sexiest groan you’ve ever heard as he empties his balls inside of you, pumping you full of come. 

When Obi-Wan tries to slide out eventually, you don’t let him, and he doesn’t fight you. He only props himself up on one elbow and caresses your hair. “I think I’ll have to brush it again.”

---

ps girlies i didn't proofread this so if that shows im so sorry LMFAO

also i prommy ill write the dad thing next ok u have my word

[coltcassidyy]

I know this is probably gonna get annoying, but I can't help it. I'm hyperfiated on invincible atm. But a lapis lazuli inspired male reader.

Mark finds his gem in space or something and frees him, and now he has this strong ass gem alien living with him, trying to learn human customs and stuff.

It’s not annoying my g don’t worry bout it. I like writing for people … but I need to get some non invincible requests soon before I crash out and explode my kitchen

Mark Grayson x Lapis Lazuli/reader

TW: reader is male, No nsfw (I wasn’t sure if you wanted any or not). Non-sexual nudity. Includes romantic HCs.

I’m writing this at fucking 3 am. On the night before Easter. I’m trying to catch the fucking Easter bunny

Mark thinks you’re so fucking cool. You’re a gem? With water powers? And blue skin? Sure you occasionally remind him of the mauler twins but mark is happy to have somebody Oliver can look up to … having … odd skin, and all …

The way you behave is just so silly to him sometimes. This ranges from eating basic foods wrong (eating cake in layers, eating burritos / tacos sideways , etc), behaving so formal in the least formal places possible, saying odd things because you don’t quite understand English yet. ( Ex: “you know what, mark? I could care less.” “Then … care … less?” “… you know what I mean.”)

There’s some behaviors of yours that mark doesn’t find as silly. Like your ptsd. From the war (I think a war happened in Steven universe? I don’t remember). Yeah he hears you murmuring in your sleep.

Being not human and all, you never really understood the idea of being polite. You’re extremely blunt in all situations, and if marks there, he tries to spare you— to explain your situation. But honestly, it just makes things work. Sometimes when you go out in public with mark, he’ll beg you to let him do all the talking.

When mark first saw your powers in combat he was absolutely entranced. It was beautiful— the water itself was already gorgeous, but watching you contort it so elegantly is just the icing on the cake. Watching you maneuver and use the water to the crescendo of its abilities was so satisfying and so breathtaking. Sometimes, he’ll have you play with your powers simply because he likes to watch the water move.

Speaking of water! When you came to earth for the first time, you kind of … smelled. You didn’t stink … but you didn’t necessarily smell good. Mark tried to explain to you in words how to bathe, but it wasn’t really getting through to you. So your first actual bath was with mark.

This is one of those moments where mark had you play with your powers just so he could watch. Sometimes when you shower together or bathe together he’ll have you change the temperature or the water pressure. You didn’t think of using your abilities in such a way before, but now that you’ve discovered it, you never want to stop.

Your first bath together was where mark got to get a really good look at your gem placement, too. Right smack dab in the upper middle of your chest- a little below your collar bones. Mark always liked crystals and gems— he thought they were pretty, and he thought it was interesting how the earth could produce something so aesthetically pleasing just from minerals and dust. He thinks yours is pretty especially, the way the water reflects or the light catches in it sometimes, it’s hard to miss— and hard to ignore.

Mark finds your powers to be incredibly convenient. Taking down low level fire goons, or whenever he needs to wash his hands, get a drink (you thought this was quite nasty, but apparently mark doesn’t mind), or just when he’s hot or dirty and needs a refresher.

Mark had to teach you social interaction. It was insanely embarrassing— but thankfully, he really only used his mom, atom eve, amber, or William to practice. Mark assumes that after spending so much time with William that it gave you a bit of a … sass.

You’ve eaten the soap from marks bathroom before. You coughed up bubbles for weeks. (Smells good ≠ tastes good. He had to teach you that as well.)

Romantic HCs

Sometimes, after a really bad day, mark will ask to lay down with you and he’ll trace his fingers around the gem in your chest. It’s satisfying and smooth against his fingertips, and it’s a nice feeling for you too.

He enjoys having a partner who can fly. Sometimes the both of you will just go on flight trips together, flying over cities or hovering in the night sky to look at the stars. You don’t ever do this without holding hands though. Holding hands makes you feel closer and more connected, and without that simple gesture, sometimes you get quite uncomfortable.

You weren’t necessarily comfortable with PDA at first. To your culture, touch and affection is an incredibly intimate and sacred thing. Though you didn’t necessarily agree with it, you obeyed anyways. So when mark broke the news to you that PDA is actually quite normal, you went a little overboard with it. You love the idea of displaying to others that mark belonged to you and you alone, letting the world know of your love— of your unbreakable bond.

Similar to mark laying you down and tracing over the gem in your chest, after a bad day or a particularly rough fight, sometimes you’ll have mark trace his fingers over your body, just gentle touches to remind you that not all super-abled humans (or viltrumites.) are out to hurt you— to remind you that at the end of the day, mark will always be there to soothe your wounds.

The both of you don’t really kiss mouth-to-mouth a lot. Only on special occasions. You don’t like it— you think it’s nasty. So the both of you opt for kisses to the forehead, the hands, the inner wrist, the cheek, the nose … anywhere but the lips, basically. (Mark believes that kissing each others hands is much nastier than kissing on the lips, but he doesn’t want to confuse you, or make you even more grossed out by humans then you already are. He just keeps his hands washed.)

((This is kinda short but holy fuck Easter bunny give me chocolate))

[reddtulips]

you wanted requests 👀 how about an overworked price being forced gently coaxed by the 141 into taking a day off? all of them or a member of your choosing. he tries to order them to back off as their captain and for the first time gets a sarcastic "yeah right" look in return.

wholesome/domestic/sexual however you wanna take this. go wild

i just think he needs a break

yelling at the top of my lungs for price to go on a vacation and take an 80 hour nap and just eat citrus fruit

Captain John Price x the rest of task force 141 (mostly John “Soap” MacTavish)

Price has just gotten back from a mission, casualties and hostages and yelling until his voice is hoarse and flying bullets whizzing past his head galore, and no matter how much he tries to relax his breathing, he simply can’t.

His chest feels tight, his shoulders ache with every move and the food in the mess hall is actual slop, which just sours his mood even more.

It takes him forever to get through the paperwork for the mission, and the second he writes his last signature of the day, he exhales heavily. Even the squeaky chair he’s sitting on is annoying the living hell out of him. He feels like breaking it with his bare hands.

Exhaustion washes over him. He pushes the papers aside, files and pens and an open notebook with notes as well and rests his arms and head on the table. He just needs five minutes. Five minutes of interrupted down time and he’ll get right back up and phone Laswell and see if there’s any new info from the mission.

The door to his office creaks open. Price raises his head, high on alert, but relaxed a smidge when his eyes meet Johnny’s blue ones. He’s carrying a mandarin; is slowly starting to peel it.

“Been lookin’ fer ye, Price,” Johnny says. There’s no formalities or a sense of authority with them anymore. Price only pulls rank when Johnny’s being bat shit crazy on the field, and does it to save the sergeant’s life.

“You’ve found me,” Price mutters. His body feels too heavy to lift from the table. “Can’t say in what shape, though.”

“Better shape than most of those bastards from today, I’ll say that.”

All of the shadows from the mission were KIA and only three of their own soldiers were wounded and in medical right now.

Johnny grins, approaches the desk and looks like an apex predator under the dim light of Price’s floor lamp. Price gets a whiff of the citrusy mandarin, feels saliva forming in his mouth and swallows. Johnny, ever the observer, offers half to his captain.

Price takes it. Their fingers brush, and Johnny feels the buzz of electricity he can never seem to get used to. Johnny takes in his captain’s appearance. His hair is messy and his eyebags are darker and sit further down his cheeks than usual. There’s a small haziness in his eyes and Johnny thinks he could take on his captain right here and now and win without too much of a fight. That scenario looks very very wrong in his head.

“You feelin’ aright?”

“Never felt better, sergeant.” Price lies through his teeth and finishes the rest of his mandarin. The juice is sweet and sour at the same time and refreshes his mind there must be some magic in them. “D’you need anything or do I have to assign you recruit training for the next two months?”

“I’m just lookin’ out for my captain, is all,” Johnny says, raising his arms in defense. “Ye’ve been cooped up 'ere a lot. . . at base. We miss ye at home.”

Ah. Home. Price blinks, then blinks again. He looks up at Soap, sees his lips are pulled into a thin line.

“Soap,” he says, “get the hell out of my office.” the words come out and they sound like a deep sigh from the bottom of his lungs. He can’t deal with this. Not right now. Because he knows. He knows he’s been at base more than home with his boys. And he misses them as well but he has a job to do and he can’t let anyone down. Especially when life or death is at stake.

Price rubs at his eyes, drags his hands down to his beard. It does little to wake him up.

“Ye need a break, sir,” johnny says. “Somewhere on a beach and with 10 ice-cold beers waitin’ in a cooler.”

Price chuckles. “Tempting as that may sound, sergeant, I have too much shit to do here. I'm waiting on Laswell to send me some intel about the mission.”

“I can help.” Soap crosses his arms. Lifts one leg and sits with half of his ass hanging from the edge of Price's desk. Price appreciates the new view of Johnny's bicep, the floor lamp making his tan skin glow.

“I'm listening.” Price raises an eyebrow, sits back in his chair and intertwines his fingers.

“I'll do yer paperwork.”

“No,” Price replies immediately. Beautiful biceps, your charms will not work today.

“I can forge yer signature.” Soap grins and a wolf stares at Price then.

Price huffs a laugh. He’s not surprised to hear that and he fully believes the sergeant’s words.

“Get out, Soap,” Price says, a quirk to his lips. He thinks for a moment when he sees the shaved parts of Johnny's head are sprouting hair again. He needs a trim. "I'll be home tonight. Ask Gaz if he can make that lava cake we all like. The one we ate. . ." It's been so long he can't even remember the last time they ate the dessert.

"A month ago?" Soap supplies, shoving the fact into his captain's face.

Price closes his eyes. Has it really been that long?

At the look on Price's defeated face, Soap leans across the desk, captures his captain's chin between his fingers and presses a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Come home tonight."

Another kiss, slow and deep.

"I said, I will." Price pulls away to murmur. His body burns with guilt and lust. He's made his boys sad and worried and that's the last thing he wants. What he does want is Johnny's pliable body underneath him and Gaz's warm mouth over his cock and Simon's thick thighs underneath his ass.

"Ye've been sayin' that for the past week." Johnny shakes his head. Price can't remember the last time he had a conversation like this with him.

His cock is already half hard from three long kisses and a gentle hand against his cheek and he realizes he can't put his work above his boys any longer.

"I'll be home tonight, love. I promise."

Price pulls Soap down for another kiss that nearly ends up with them tearing each other's clothes off and Price railing Johnny into the desk, and he would give a single fuck about being loud or the rickety old table squeaking and giving them away. Soap is the one who pulls away first, eyes hazy and pupils blown wide and lips soft and puffy. He looks like a fucking dream.

Johnny begrudgingly leaves Price’s office when he’s being practically pushed out the door. He has a hard on in his pants and the peel of the mandarin is held tightly in his gloved hand. I promise, I promise, I promise.

The words are whispered into the crook of his neck that night, Price rocking into him while he’s gasping and moaning over the words sir, yes, fu-ah-fuck, ah, a-ah, ah, missed ye s’much. Ghost and Gaz’s brains are practically melted at this point, but they watch Johnny as his eyes roll back into his head and his cock spurts come in streams all over his toned stomach.

Price cums a few thrusts later, his chest heaving with every breath he takes. His boys are sated, he feels the tension in his shoulders and back slowly leave him in waves as the last of his orgasm washes over him.

They wash up, change the sheets and when they lie back down on the bed, he’s in the center. Soap, Ghost and Gaz curl up together with their captain, and they make Price promise he will take at least a few days off, because the house just doesn’t feel the same without all four members in it.

—————

a/n: I’m so incredibly sorry this took so long but I had so much shit to do last week and I rewrote this twice and I still don’t know if I’m happy with it or not, but nevertheless I hope you enjoy :’)

[heirofazure]

Thrawn’s Musings: 2

A Mother’s Sacrifice

Summary: Sad!Thrawn shower thoughts. I wanted to explore what a Chiss mother’s lullaby would be like considering their culture of rematching to new families. Are they conditioned from childhood that one's birth family may not always be there? Is it taboo to speak of one's past if rematched to a new family? Do Chiss keep in contact with their former/birth relatives if they are rematched? Does a birth family only refer to one by their new name, or a variation of one's core name since it's the one that follows the Chiss for the entirety of their lives? I’d love to see more people exploring this.

Precision, precision, precision was Thrawn’s mantra as beads of sweat streamed down his face and onto the floor of his private sparring gym. Of all the private amenities provided to him as Grand Admiral, this had to be the one he was most thankful for. The vibroblade gripped in his right fist thrummed with energy as he wielded it with brutal efficiency, the blade flashing as it made contact with the Imperial sentry droid’s black plating. He swiftly lifted his left forearm to block a rapid punch from the droid, the vibroblade’s hilt dragging along his chest and plunging forward into the droid’s alloy abdomen. Energy crackled along the plating and caused the droid to seize, granting Thrawn mere seconds to catch his breath. Fatigue was beginning to take over, and when he glanced at the crono on the wall, he realized he had been sparring for over 30 minutes. If he continued, his form would become sloppy.

Absolutely unacceptable. 

“Override...Code Ruhk,” Thawn said between ragged breaths. The droid immediately shifted into attention stance and powered down, Thrawn’s reflection becoming clearer in the sudden darkness now occupying its dimming red eyes. He swallowed as he took in his appearance, noting his own red eyes hooded with exhaustion, and his blue skin a shade paler than usual. 

His reflection was the only Chiss he’d laid eyes upon in the years since he’d entered Imperial service. It had never bothered him before, but for the past few months, it had begun to weigh on his mind. A reunion with Admiral Ar’alani was anticipated in the future due to unusual events occurring within the borders of the Empire, but it had yet to come to fruition. Had he even spoken a word of Cheunh in the past standard year? A hollow feeling began to expand in his chest. His exercising garments, now saturated with perspiration, felt too tight as the sensation spread throughout his entire body.

Melancholy. A feeling he was never fond of but currently permeating every fiber of his being. He shook his head and exited the sparring gym. Light followed his movement as motion sensors tracked his path from the gym to his shower. The thought of warm water and soap washing away the sticky sensation he felt all over brought a smile to his face. Surely that would make him feel better. He strode into his refresher, settling on the fact that of all his private amenities, his spacious shower ranked second. He began humming as he removed his garments and entered the stall, stark white lights illuminating the space. Soaps from distant planets housed in a variety of containers lined the wall, each a unique piece of art that made his cleansing space akin to a private gallery of all his intergalactic travel.

He was still humming a tune as he pressed the buttons to activate the shower, releasing a sigh of satisfaction when steaming water hit his skin from various jets clustered along the ceiling and walls. However, as the realization of what he was humming began to process through his mind, the smile that was plastered across his face slowly shrank. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, tipping his head back as water ran through his hair and cascaded down his back. 

Rentor. His home planet. The melody? His mother’s. He could still hear her voice echoing within his mind as he stood under the jets, his humming increasing in volume as he remembered the words of the old Chiss lullaby.

Deep in the Chaos,

Far, far away. 

Cold unforgiving,

Our Ascendancy brave.

Resilient hearts,

Traditions of old. 

Fortune be with you,

Warrior soul.

Thrawn felt the weight of his sadness from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. He wondered if it was possible that his own reflection made him recall the characteristics he inherited from a woman he never spoke to again after rematching to the Mitth. The woman who gave him life.

Your name may change,

And your life may lead,

Down paths I can’t follow,

To places I won’t be.

He had never reached out to her. Although it was frowned upon, birth family contact had never been explicitly prohibited by the Mitth. As he lathered dzisnir herb soap on a cleansing cloth and began scrubbing his torso, he felt the reason for his choice rise from the depths of his mind. There was no question about the pain this topic held in his birth home. 

Vurika’s disappearance. Being an inquisitive child, a young Vurawn constantly asked about his older sister after she vanished. There were never clear answers from his parents, although he would catch a pained look sweep across his mother’s face if Vurika was so much as mentioned. After countless attempts, he at some point stopped asking. However, he always ruminated on it, hoping to solve the reason for her disappearance as easily as a tactical dilemma.

Oh, how naïve he was.

As the years passed, Thrawn did his best to excel in his studies and remain obedient to his parent’s wishes, if only to not be the next child that disappeared. In hindsight, he realized his parents could have never revealed such sensitive information as to Vurika’s whereabouts, even if they had wanted to. 

Even if the silence hurt them as much as it hurt him. Even if he had vanished as well.

But you, my dear child,

Remember in your heart,

That if I live in your memory,

We’ll never be apart.

As he rinsed off the last of the soap, Thrawn felt his throat tighten with raw emotion. His mother had not lost just one child, but both her children to the needs of the Ascendency. More so, his passion for art stemmed from her influence. The fondest of his childhood memories were those seated next to her easel, watching her blend colors and bring to life the faces of children she would never see again. Had she had more children? Had she sung them that lullaby? Had she seen his successes and failures on her Questis news feeds, reading about a son who no longer acknowledged her existence? Was she still alive? 

There was no way for him to answer these questions now. Unlike everything else in his life, he had never planned for this. 

He had never planned to think of his birth mother, let alone miss her.

He found he couldn’t bring himself to exit the stall as he shut off the water. The light around him seemed too bright, and his breathing was shallow and quick. He closed his eyes for a moment to settle his senses, and was stunned to see his face- her face, peering at him from the earlier reflection in his training droid’s eyes. 

In that moment, a sudden tremor emanating from the core of his being overcame all his logical faculties like a massive explosion; emotions that had been suppressed for survival finally erupting on the surface. He roughly grasped the handlebar along the wall with one hand, and a pitiful whimper escaped his lips. Then another, followed by another. He could feel the tears roll down his face as shudders racked his entire body. He had given everything to the Ascendency, and so had she. 

So had she.

Although I don’t know,

What harms you will face,

My love for you transcends,

Both time and space.

So go far, my child,

And if you seek me,

Within your reflection,

There I will be.

And as Thrawn finally cried for the mother he once had, he allowed himself to wonder if all their sacrifices would be worth it in the end.

Thank you to @stars-n-spice for the Thrawn divider!

[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

so! since once in a blue moon is done, i think im going to take a break from road to hell for a little while. just to refresh myself and try something new. but i need some help. i have no idea which au i should write next. i figured, a poll can help! offload the work of picking to you all XD here are the three im stuck between. very brief summaries of each below

muzzled: werewolf ghost gets nabbed by poachers, who have a mysterious silent man in their clutches. the two of them, both prisoners in their own rights, work together to escape the hell theyve found themselves in.

cracked sea glass: belated mermay fic. after soap's grandparents pass, they leave him their cottage on a cliff above the sea. one stormy night, he rescues a child tangled in a net on the beach below. a child with a fish tail instead of feet. soap finds an unusual family beneath the waves.

king of liars: five times soap lied to save a faerie, and one time he told the truth and condemned himself

reblogs appreciated to help get a bigger sample size! <3

[ryuzakemo128]

The Carina's Heart Galaxy

Chapter Two: What The Fuck?

Pairing: Poly!141 x Female Reader/ You

Content Warning: Sex doll mention, female reader is slight unhinged (Soap's Opinion), Female reader loves explosives (Much to soaps fear and delight imo), possible swearing and cussing?. If I missed something let me know.

Words: 1602

Dividers Credit: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Masterlist

Summary: Who knew I’d meet you again so soon?

Who knew I’d meet you again so soon? Here I thought my day couldn’t get any weirder. I spoke to you last night and now I’m speaking to you again. Except this time, you’re in your space themed pyjamas, galaxy socks with cats prints, shark shaped slippers and a shark beanie. Kate said she was important, or rather her brain is. I didn’t know why until I saw you midway through your laser gun experiment round.

The charcoal grey brunch coat hanging on for dear life on your shoulders while your giant full ball of a cat watched with disdain of the noise you were making. The pink collar with the rose gold name tag with Mr. Whiskers in cursive engraved into the metal tag. The regal behaviour from a cat large enough to be the side of a medium sized dog remained palpable.

“Hey! You. You’re the guy I was talking to yesterday. Or am I just imagining things?” you remarked. “I forgot to ask how you liked dessert last night. The chocolate fudge I mean.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at your question and the amount of high energy you managed to summon at the sight of me, “It was rather sweet and salty. Though I am surprised you remember that.”

You looked at me with puzzlement, “Why wouldn’t I remember? That was a pretty intense chat we had last night. Besides sea salted caramel fudge is the best kind of fudge.”

Soap raised an eyebrow at the mention of your favourite type of fudge, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Sea salted caramel, you say? That’s quite the taste you’ve got there, Doc.”

“Specific, but the diner I usually go to at night sometimes. They make the best kind.” You commented. “Sure, the whole diner is a little suspect on the outside. But man, the fudge is the best.”

Gaz nodded, his eyes lighting up with the same enthusiasm. “I know the one. They’ve got a secret recipe. The owner is an ex-navy chef. He’s got a taste for the sweet and salty combination.”

“Yeah. Not too far off from my father’s taste for dipped buttered toast with his porridge.” You quipped with a smirk.

Gaz looked to be reeling in from the conversation we had last night after I returned to the safe house. Whistling an upbeat tune, it took him by surprise, in fact it took them all by surprise. He never whistled like that. Ever.

“What’s got you so chipper?” Soap asked, his eyes looking at me with suspicion.

Ghost looked at me with equal amount of suspicion, he also questioned, “What has you in such a good mood?”

I smirked from ear to ear, feeling the energy in the room shift slightly. You had a certain charm about you that was infectious, even if you didn’t realize it. The way you spoke about your love for science and the mundane yet delightful things in life was refreshing. It was as if you didn’t have a care in the world, despite the chaos that probably swirled in your mind with your job.

“I met someone at the diner.” I told them. It did nothing to ease their suspicions. “Ah, you should have seen her. Beautiful in her midnight blue dress with silver stars.”

“Talking my ear off about quantum entanglement and how she doesn’t believe ‘fate’ exists.” I continued after a breathy pause. “And her car? A gorgeous vintage.”

“The biggest, largest bonus of the entire night? She grabbed my hand, wrote her number with a pink sharpie and bought me dessert before she left.” I was rambling. I knew that. But how could I not? How could I not ramble about the woman that made a lasting impression on me?

You probably could kick my arse, and I’d thank you for it afterwards. A strong woman like you? Rare. A strong and smart woman like you? Even rarer.

It was when they saw you disintegrate a soda can in your pyjamas while your cat looked on with disinterest. Soap saw you shoot the thing in your makeshift shooting range with your makeshift targets made from a stack of empty soda cans. He only found you there after hearing the evil cackle you made from behind the brick fence.

Things started making far more sense after seeing you in person finally. Though the amount of sense wasn’t all that much. The level of unhinged is only amplified by the fact that you couldn’t be bothered to change out of your pyjamas first.

Soap recognised you from an explosive drill you did to ‘get a better handle on things’. He was far too scared to ask what you meant at the time. The grenade you altered and wanted to test out? How you said it was meant to replicate the effects of outer space in a compact form.

You are a contradiction of sorts. A living, breathing contradiction, paradox and conundrum altogether. “How did you like that grenade I made?” you asked Soap. “I have made a few upgrades since the last version. I can’t wait to show you the progress I made.”

You brought them up on the digital whiteboard on the wall of your lab. The upgrades were: sticky grip, vanta black coating, heavily reduction in shrapnel, a more concentrated burst of energy, the ability to create a small vacuum around it and, my personal favourite, a self-destruct mechanism that would make Q proud.

Soap looked at you with a mix of awe and fear. “Jesus, Doc. That's... That's some serious shit you're playing with here. How the hell do you even come up with these ideas?”

"Regular grenades, grenade launchers, they're all so... pedestrian." You say with a dismissive wave of your hand, a hint of mischief glinting in your eyes. "But a grenade that can stick to surfaces, reduce collateral damage, and create a temporary vacuum? That's a game-changer. It's like bringing a piece of the cosmos into combat."

The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of your words hanging in the air like the aftermath of a supernova. Then, Soap laughs, a boisterous sound that fills the lab. "You're insane, Doc, you know that? In the best possible way." He says, clapping his hands together with the kind of excitement that only a seasoned soldier could muster for something so potentially destructive.

"I named it after the Fibonacci sequence." you told him.

Soap looked at you with bewilderment. "The Fibonacci sequence? As in, the mathematical sequence that appears in nature?"

"Yes. That one." you were buzzing with so much excitement.

Soap nodded slowly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Alright, Doc. You've officially out-nerded us all. A grenade named after a maths sequence that's supposed to replicate space?"

“Just wait till you see my gaming set up.” You stated. Hinting at one of your hobbies you have.

You showed off your gaming set up in the room beside your lab. The framed posters of movies you enjoyed on the walls. The mouse pad with the Doom Slayer on it and your computer had a Lady Maria from bloodborne animated wallpaper on all three of your computer monitors.

The life-sized statue of The Master Chief from the Halo game series. The rug with the Millennium Falcon printed onto it. Though the sex doll you had in the other corner of the room was rather specific, with the j-cup sized breasts, blonde hair, height of 5 foot 3 and brown eyes.

“Is that...?” Soap’s eyes widened, pointing to the doll.

"A sex doll? Yes." you answered.

Soap looked at the doll again, his expression unreadable. "What's the story behind that?"

"Apart from the outfits I put on her to see if it'll look any good on my own figure?" you asked.

Soap’s face was a picture, a mix of shock and confusion. “You dress her up?”

"Did you expect me to leave her naked?" you questioned.

Ghost smothered a laugh with his hand while Gaz's eyes darted around the room, looking everywhere except at the doll. Soap was the only one who remained unfazed, his gaze lingering on the doll with a sort of detached curiosity.

"Truth be told, I'm surprised you even spotted it." you snickered.

Soap’s curiosity grew, “How’d you get into gaming?”

"Older brother." you answered.

Soap raised an eyebrow, "He sounds like quite the character."

"Yeah, but he wasn't into hentai like I am so there." you quipped.

Soap and Gaz exchanged a look, clearly surprised by your candidness. Ghost remained stoic, his gaze lingering on the doll with an unreadable expression. You didn't miss the glances, but you were used to people's reactions to your unconventional hobbies. You shrugged it off, moving over to your computer.

"You guys play games?" you asked, changing the subject. The room felt awkwardly silent, but you didn't mind. It was your space, your sanctuary, and you felt comfortable with your newfound guests.

"Yeah, we've got our fair share of downtime." Soap admitted, "What's your go-to?"

"Bloodborne, Elden Ring, Doom 2016, Doom Eternal, Halo Reach, and, The Evil Within 2." You replied without a moment's hesitation.

I didn't think I would have liked her this much. Though to be fair I wasn't expecting to bump into her to begin with. Sure, you weren’t what I imagined you to be. But I like it better this way. Soap and Ghost assumed you were socially inept as soon as I told them you were a scientist.

I’m just glad I finally met someone with the right kind of madness inside them.

[spectres-n-soap]

All The Things I've Said PT2 - Ghost x Reader x Soap

Content Warnings - Ghosts past, tragic backstory™️, pregnancy, implied protective Ghost

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N - 2/7 done.

Ghost has found that the times when you are gone from the flat while attending therapy is suffocating. He normally does not mind being alone or the silence that comes with it but after spending the last weeks with you, he finds that he hates it.

He tries to keep busy now instead of sitting around like a dog left at home while the owner goes shopping. Which is what he did the first few times you told him that you would text him when the session was over. He had wandered from the couch, to the dining room chairs and back to the couch so many times in just a few hours that he was sure he was going mad.

It wasn’t until the fourth day of this that something had clicked and he started this routine. You were heavily pregnant now and after the reveal that you’d likely have to get a c-section, he had picked up more chores around the house. He cleans the dishes, takes out the trash, makes your bed and does the laundry. He buys food for the house and keeps everything stocked. Ghost looks at the little sage green onesie in his hands and wonders if the baby will even fit. He saw the size of them, they were going to be a big and fat baby.

Ghost folds the onesie with a skill that had made his hands shake when he first did it. Joseph had been a very fat and happy baby. All smiles and giggles, only crying when hungry or having soiled his nappy. He had big blue eyes that Ghost can still recall with clarity but not without it being soiled with the memory of how those eyes looked when he was dead. Maybe that's why he couldn’t visit Johnny before he was cremated. His and Joseph’s eyes were so similar. He didn’t want the memory of two sets of blue eyes glazed over with the gray of death.

Ghost rubs the soft fabric of the beige pants that went with the white shirt he had just folded. It was soft, non irritating for a baby’s soft and delicate skin. His mind is drawn back to the past, back to when Beth had just finished her own baby shower and there were so many gifts.

Despite Ghost’s family being rather small, Beth’s was not. It had been refreshing and a little overwhelming to have so many people over. But his mum had enjoyed it, she had made so much food that despite the twenty people in that house there were still leftovers.

Beth rested her head against Tommy’s shoulder, tired from all the fuss and talking while Simon gathered up the trash. “You okay love?” Tommy asked softly and cupped Beth’s cheek. Beth smiled up at Simon’s brother and nodded.

“Jus’ tired. That’s all.” Beth yawned and Tommy smiled before he suggested she take a nap while he and Simon cleaned up. Beth didn’t need any convincing and with their mum’s help, waddled up the stairs to their bedroom. Simon kept putting things into the trash bag as Tommy gathered up the collection of blue onesies and outfits. Simon had never imagined Tommy being a father.

He had never envisioned either of them being fathers because of the shit job their father had done. And yet, here was Tommy. Married to a wonderfully kind woman with a baby on the way, clean from drugs and their father left to die from whatever cancers ate away at his body. Good fuckin’ riddiance thought Simon.

“You’re gonna be a good father.” Simon said, not exactly sure where that came from. Tommy smiled at him, brown eyes mirrored each other.

“And you’re gonna be a good uncle.” Tommy said as he folded up another blue onesie. “You’re already a good brother.” Simon shook his head but didn’t argue. He had told the military to fuck off, that he was going on leave to fix up the mess that was his family. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to stay on hardship leave. Hopefully long enough to see baby Joseph.

“I’m doing what I’m meant to do.” Simon said with a shrug as he stuffed one last pile of ripped apart wrapping paper. “I came back for my family.”

“Thank you Simon.” Tommy placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “For making me get better.”

Simon shrugged off his hand, “I only threw the rope, you’re the one who had to climb.”

Ghost rewashes the baby bottles, not interested in the baby drinking from unwashed bottles. He watches the droplets slowly drip from the bottle as he sets them on the drying rack, he swallows as the memories claw up from the depths. He wishes they were happy still and not fucked up with blood and a type of grief that didn’t let go.

He looked down at the baby in his arms. All swaddled in a soft blue blanket with a blue boonie on his head. Baby Joseph. His face was still wrinkled and his eyes were shut, his mouth slightly open as he slept. There were feelings stirring deep within him that he had never felt before. There was this tiny life being held in his hands, hands that had killed and shot off guns that would surely ruin Joseph's hearing. And yet he was the only one holding him as Tommy doted on Beth after some skin to skin contact earlier.

Simon held his breath as Joseph blinked, his little blue eyes unfocused as he stared up at Simon. Joseph squinted and a small toothless smile appeared. “Hi Joseph.” Simon whispered as he looked down at his nephew and he felt tears appear in his eyes. “It's your uncle Simon.” Simon licked his dry lips as Joseph looked up at him, “I’ll protect you. I’ll protect your entire family. Promise.” Simon murmured, so quietly he almost didn’t hear himself say it.

Simon wipes at his eyes as the memory fades and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He checks his phone just as your text message appears, “I’m ready to be picked up.” Simon wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans before he grabs his keys as he stuffs down the emotions those memories conjure. You are not Beth. Johnny was not Tommy. And he was not going to let anything happen to you or that baby.

[as-nodt-ghostwriter]

FT: Shower Sharing — Juvia Lockser / Male Reader

content warning ⚠️ — NSFW oneshot (MUST BE 18+, you’ve been warned)

requested by anonymous — Use Juvia’s water abilities to absorb water and make her breasts grow while giving the reader a paizuri.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

After a long week of non stop missions, you came home to take a nice long shower. It felt good to finally be back home after being away for so long. Taking those wizard missions took a lot out of you.

You could feel the drips of hot water raining down on your back, droplets cascading down your face and hair. You already felt refreshed.

Once your hair was wet enough, you applied your shampoo, your hands massaging your scalp as the soap turned into suds.

Your ears perked as you heard the bathroom door open and close.

“Back home already?” A soft voice echoed the bathroom.

“Juvia? I didn’t think you were home yet.” You continued showering and let the water wash away the sudsy shampoo from your hair.

Your roommate Juvia asked about how the missions went, the usual. After living with her for about four years, you’ve gotten use to her odd quirks. Her coming in the bathroom while you showered was considered your new normal.

You may or may not have a friends with benefits thing with her. It kinda just happened. She’s a pretty woman and you’re just a guy that lives with her, these things happen.

Juvia is still hung up on her guild mate Grey Fullbuster, but she always comes around in having casual sex due to her high libido. Juvia admits that she finds you attractive and wouldn’t mind doing it more often. You obliged and now you have a cute roommate that you stick your dick in sometimes when you’re both home.

“Hey, save some hot water for me!” Juvia pleaded as she pulled down her shorts and underwear.

Because of this, Juvia playfully ruins your private shower time and jumps in with you.

“What? No! I just got back home.” You whined. But Juvia stepped inside the shower, closing the curtain behind you two.

Now your eyes were drawn to a naked Juvia, seeing her bare pussy was a sight to see. She lightly blushed, despite doing this for about a year or two. She was always shy about being sexual and you had no problem always being the dominant one or testing the waters each time.

“I’ll make it worth your while.” She breathed, walking closer to you, her breasts touching your chest as the hot water cascade both of your naked bodies. You gulped and had your hands traveled to her backside, sliding and groping her ass. The blue haired woman gasped and immediately tightly hugged you as your hands touched every curve of her body.

Juvia looked into your eyes, as her hair was wet and damp already. You pulled her face into yours, and kissed her. Juvia moaned as you greedily smashed your lips into hers, so soft, so wet. You wanted more.

Without warning, you turned her body to the wall, pinning her. She gasped as both of your lips separated from each other. Your mouth attacked her wet neck, kissing, licking and sucking that sweet spot on her neck. Juvia loved receiving hickeys! And you were happy to give her that treatment everytime.

Juvia drooled and turned into a blushing mess as she felt your tongue and lips all over her neck. The wetness, the sucking, and attention made her feel oh so good.

You loved feeling her warm skin between your lips no matter what. You could smell her sweet perfume still on her and it drove you wild as you heard her softly moan as you suck-kissed her neck.

You ceased your love bite attack, pulling away and eyeing that sweet red spot on her neck, silently proud that you made your mark on her skin. That would surely turn purple the next morning for sure.

You smiled as you looked back at her eye level. Juvia smiled as looked into your eyes, her arms wrapping around your neck and holding you close. She stared into your eyes as she whispered a thank you. You only grinned.

“Oh we’re not finished just yet, Juvi.” She blushed profusely as you called her by her cute nickname.

She only ever heard that from you whenever you were in a teasing or dominant mood. Her eyes widened as her mind began to wander at what you were going to do with her next. She mentally couldn’t contain her excitement!

“Turn around.” You stated. Juvia didn’t need to be asked twice and had her chest close to the wall, her breasts squished into the wall. She could feel the shower rain down on her backside, as the water traveled down to her ass and pussy. Juvia tried turning her eyes back but was swiftly pinned to the wall by you as you aligned your hard cock between her pussy lips.

She bit her lip, preparing and excited for your cock to thrust into her walls. She could feel the tip kiss her clit.

You pushed your cock slowly into her, she moaned softly and closed her eyes in delight.

Your hands held and spread her ass cheeks as your felt her pussy tighten around your shaft.

Fuck, you definitely missed the warmth of her insides. You could feel yourself pre cumming seeping out. You slapped her ass and she let out a cute yelp. You began thrusting your cock in and out, her cheeks clapped at the friction and the water sprinkled as your skin slapped into her backside. Juvia was moaning deeply as your cock was hitting the right spots. She missed the feeling of your hard cock pounding into her like it was nothing.

God she loved the way you slammed into her and how rough you were. She loved the attention and dominant streak you had when you were really getting into it!

She whined and moaned as your pace quickened and cock was close to cumming. Juvia was close too.

“O-oh! (Y/n)! K-Keep go-going…” Juvia breathed out. You were hitting all her good spots, she doesn’t think she can last too long. She could feel your cock slamming into her walls, her pussy had that tingly feeling and it was close to breaking as your pounding into her in and out.

“I-I’m c-cumming!” She yelped

“Ahhhhh—“ You grabbed her hair, arching her back behind you as she shouted and came all over your cock. Fuck, you could feel her cum oozing already.

You pulled out soon after and grunted. Juvia breathed in and out as she turned her body, facing you again.

“Mmm, that was amazing, (Y/n)!” She praised you, smiling ear to ear after you fucked her brains out and could feel her slick cum seeping from her pussy. She rubbed herself in the shower, absorbing the water raining down her body.

You however, still had a lot more planned for her.

“Glad I could make you feel good, Juvi.” You kissed her again.

“Buuut, how about you do something for me?” You teased, gesturing at your still hard cock. Juvia eyed it up and down.

“O-of course! Anything for you!” Juvia agreed promptly.

You chucked in response. “Good girl, now get on your knees for me.” You ordered.

Juvia obliged. Her knees meeting the shower tub, hard and wet. She was definitely getting more bruises after this.

Your cock was on her eye level now, she looked back at you as she grabbed the shaft. Your hands traveled to her blue hair , clawing her scalp as she jerked you off. You deeply moaned, feeling her hand rubbed the tip of your cock, using the water and pre cum as lubricant to have better friction.

Juvia had a plan up her sleeve, she wanted to whatever she could to please you.

She had the idea of using her water magic to absorb the raining shower into her chest, making her tits bigger and more bustier size.

You were well aware of this neat trick she pulled.

You vaguely remember fucking her near the kitchen sink and her breast size turn from a C to full double Ds. You still never figured how it happened or the magic of it all but you weren’t complaining. Tits are tits. And Juvi was happy to humor you.

Now here Juvia was, absorbing as much appropriate water as she could and making sure the water weight went straight to her breasts. Over doing the absorbtion could result in her body being over whelmed and top heavy.

Juvia gagged on your cock as she fondled her new full breasts, pinching her nipples as you dirty talked to her.

“You’re a little slutty roommate are ya?” You grinned. Juvia hummed as the tip of your cock touch the back of her throat, gargling her spit. You softly groaned, Juvi’s mouth was nice and warm, when her lips tightened around your shaft, it felt just like you were fucking her tight slick pussy all over again. If you didn’t have eyes, you wouldn’t tell the difference!

You hissed in delight as Juiva bobbed her head up and down. “Fuck yes, Juvi!” You praised. “Your tits nice and big yet?” You inquired. Juiva nodded, pulling away as a string of saliva was between her soft plump lips and your tip.

Juvi was excited and giddy as she cupped her huge breasts, pushing them together as they aligned perfectly in front your cock.

Your cock twitched as you saw Juvia’s eyes stare into you with hunger and lust. You both want each other so fucking bad. Your back leaned against the shower wall, you felt the one being pinned this time. With Juvia’s tits the size they are, you would bow down to her if you could. Her lustful stare, her wet skin and hair, beautiful DD tits, nice curves as she kneeled in front of you. Fuck…This was a dream. You don’t wanna wake up at all. You wanna stay and tit fuck Juvia till your balls are drained.

Juvia pushed her wet tits in between your shaft, her breasts were big enough to hold onto with both hands. Juvia looked up at you as you groaned deeply, head rolled back in delight.

Juvi tested her strokes and pushed her breasts up and down slowly. You whispered some encouragement and praised. You breathed that you were close. Juvia smiled as she managed to kiss the tip of your cock as her breasts snugged firmly around your shaft.

The tighter she closed her breasts around you, the closer you were to cumming.

The wetness of her tits and warm skin was a winning combo and felt like heavenly!

Juvia sucked the tip of your cock continually like it was a lollipop. Moving her breasts up and down faster like her life depending on it.

“F-fuck! Juvi!”

Her pace tightened.

“I’m cumming! Oh shit!”

Juvia closed her eyes, lips still wrapped around the tip, preparing for that salty cum.

“Fuuuuc—“

Suddenly, your hand met the back of her head, pushing her further down as your cum bursted into her mouth. Salty and warm coated her throat as she drank up your cum. Juvia pulled away as your came on her tits, coating her with your white paint. Juvia hummed in delight as her eyes softened, seeing her tits drizzled with cum.

You turned off the shower, trying to catch your breath after your roommate sucked you dry.

Juvia sat on the tub as she rested, you joined her.

The blue haired woman giggled and blushed, she can’t believe she pulled that tit job well.

Speaking of that…

“So uh..is that permanent.” You asked, eyeing her new tit size. “Don’t think so, it’ll go away, just need some help pushing the water out.” Juvia vaguely remembered squeezing her tits together till they squirted out water.

“I’ll gladly volunteer sucking and squeezing some tits tonight.” You smirked, teasing to get her reaction. Juvia rolled her eyes and blushed, she couldn’t get enough of you.

The idea of you sucking her tits till water squirted out is a good call though. Maybe her breastfeeding fantasies can be fulfilled tonight!

You guys really are the best roommates for each other and nothing can change that.

[gushhyyy]

“no grave can hold my body down I’ll crawl home to her”

Angst no happy ending

Warnings(death)(just utter sadness)

ꨄ

Everything had gone wrong, wrong wrong wrong. Nobody knew where to start from the bad intel to the breaking news that would rock not only the entire team of 141 as a whole but their families. Simon was a man who didn’t have much of a heart to hear beating but joined the military with sorrow and he would leave with it too.

As he lay there everything falling before him, he’d heard stories of people seeing their lives flash in the face of death as a lookbook of sin and glory.

The smile that spread across his chapped, thin lips, too far gone to see the way prices head bowed as his eyes glazed over.

He remembered the day of glory no day ever would amount in comparison.

The air was peached and refreshing, the men standing behind him that had grown as he had through the parts of his life that mattered now.

The beautiful scenery that surrounds them, the ocean dark blue but shinning as the moon scattered across its horizon, the breeze chilling but not cold the anticipation building in his guts.

The men and everyone outside stood to their feet as the music plays the familiar tune. Here comes the bride. It was amazing the he stood unmasked in the night unfazed and comfortable.

Unmasked he was, he had released himself from the shouldering worry of enemies he had let ghost go this was just Simon Riley. A soft chuckle and a thought…..

His wife, his beautiful beloved wife. The beautiful hibiscus bundled in her hands the lace vail blowing down the front of her face the tears cascading down his face were a sight when the music had ended and he’d had his hands in yours.

The pastors voice drowned out by the captured gaze between him and his bride a warm cough, from said pastor signaling it was time for vows to be exchanged taking the diamond ring that was everything she’d ever want to her finger after repeating the pastors vows he gave some of his own.

“I vow that when death takes my hand

I’ll hold you with the other and promise to find you in every lifetime I breathe in

I vow to never let you fret, cry or be scared as long as I am on earth

I vow to understand, please and thank you for accepting my deepest love till death fights me down

I love you”

He’d done his very best to life up to that, and he had succeeded no matter how far or near he was he made sure to call or send a message in some way to let you know he was still here and loving you.

It wasn’t very long before the weight on his body got a little heavier, he remembered the second greatest day of his life.

“Guess what!” His newlywed wife asked

“Wha’” the gruff man responded a wide smile on his thinner lip, with her simple ask his eyes were closed and his hands were out and open.

A delicate picture frame had appeared in his hands it was there wedding photo blown up and framed in a white wooden frame.

“It gorgeous hon’” was all he could say it took the breath from him. Thinking about that day still felt like a dream but having the proof in his hands was spectacular.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um… I got a call from John there a mission that he wants me on I know that after we got married I said I’d retire and I will be he needs me this will be the last one I promise love”

And He’d later go on to get the photo tattooed on the whole of his back as a mural for you by him.

He knew he was dying not when he heard his yelling caption asking him to hold on just a little longer, soap calling for him to keep his eyes open nor the evac arrive airlifting him to a hospital.

It was when he couldn’t hear your voice anymore, when your face got blurry when he tried his damn hardest to see it he knew it was over.

But he needed to make good on his word, he had to get back to you to say a goodbye weakly raising with wired hands the monitors ringing away.

Not that he could tell the difference between them or the ringing in his ears price jumping up to try and settle him. “Riley lay down you’re going to make it worse.” He firmly but yet scared told him man.

Shaking his had left to right “call er” he rasped out “call er now I need my wife!” Death was going to take him yes but it wasn’t going to take his last moment from his wife.

You don’t know how you got to the hospital but you did just in time charging your way past anything, breathing only with your gotten spotty vision jumping to his side and his arms.

“This isn’t My choice hon but I hope I did well being your love but please find another” it would kill him again to watch you from beyond drowning in sorrow.

“I don’t want them I want you” you tired you hardest to not break down to make him feel like he did anything wrong.

He didn’t this was all out of either of your control.

“You have me you’ll be the only one to have me.”

There it was the weight was much too heavy to fight and he had a light heart hold his loved hands in one death on his chest.

He laughs at the thought he had all those years ago

Banners by @danowh0re and @k1ssyoursister

[brokenpieces-72]

Going Dark

COD Gangster AU

Navigation

Kate had met with her friend, Charlotte at the gathering. Her hope was to exchange what information she could with her while having another ear close by.

When Makarov gave his speech she’d gotten a text from Price.

“141 going Dark.”

Kate didn’t have time to try and help Farah, and there was too much risk in doing so. At least Alex had tried. Her main priority was you and getting you to safety. As soon as Charly noticed the text she left to get the car.

You sat in the backseat furiously texting Kyle and Johnny, praying for a response. You keep trying to refresh the messages, seeing how long it’s been since sending them.

“Ya alright back there love?” Charlotte asks from the front seat. Laswell is staring out the window, lost in thought in between text messages. You look up from your phone, and meet Charlotte’s eyes in the rear view mirror. You nod.

“Y-yeah. Fine.” You say, finally setting your phone screen down. Then you pick it up again and text Graves.

“What happened?! What did you do?!”

He texts back right away.

“Exactly as you told me to. We got em kid.”

You try to ask him what he means but your text won’t go through. He’s blocked your number.

Charlotte pulled into a parking lot and exits the vehicle with Laswell. While Laswell made her way to the old hotel building Charlotte opened the door for you, offering a hand. After everything you welcome the comfort of physical touch. Charlotte escorts you inside and you make your way up a few flights until you reach the honeymoon suite. Laswell knocks on the door.

“Watcher-1.” Laswell says, and the door opens. You go in with them and looks around eyes wide.

Alejandro is pacing, bruises blotting his face and arms. Simon is helping Rudy who is laying on ratty couch, getting makeshift stitches. Kyle and Soap are bandaging themselves, with a nasty wound on Soap’s arm and Kyle’s arm caked in blood. Price closes the door behind you.

“You said Graves would help.” He comments before anyone can say anything else. You go very very quiet. Price is staring you down. His face is blank but one word will change that. You don’t know what to say to him. Graves had fucked them over but surely something else was going on.

“I dont know what happened.” You say quickly.

Price shakes his head and steps further into the room while all you can do is stand there, frozen in place. You shouldn’t have told Graves, you shouldn’t have tried to help. Price doesn’t say anything and yet it feels like he’s saying everything. You just want it out.

“I don’t know what happened!” You repeat turning to look at Price.

“You told Graves. That’s what happened! Graves is not your father, he can’t do what he did!” Price tells you. Laswell tries stepping in and he raises a finger to stop her.

“No. Don’t defend them. They messed up, they take the fall.”

“I was trying to help!” You argue. “That’s all I’ve been doing!”

“You took a risk that was never your decision.”

“I got the cops involved so that something could actually be done, people could be put behind bars!”

“You’re not your father!” Price shouts. The entire room goes silent. You don’t have anything to say to that. The others don’t say anything either. No one defends you. No one argues with Price.

Then you notice red and blue lights. Your eyes widen. How could this get any worse? Graves was about to show you. Price looks at Kate and Charlotte who leave the room. The last thing Price wants is for the two of them to get into shit and lose their positions as high as they are. Alejandro curses in Spanish seeing the place is surrounded. There was no way out, but the cops weren’t looking for Charlotte and Laswell.

“Go with them.” Price orders you.

“I’m staying.” You say. You look at Soap and Gaz who look away to finish up their bandages. You know you’ve screwed up. Time to pay the price. Except you pay for it in a whole new way.

Graves opens the door and sees you. He looks relieved.

“Officer l/n. Well done.” He says approvingly. “You’re all under arrest.”

“Graves what the fuck?!” Soap barks, getting to his feet. You see more cops shuffling in behind Graves. You get between Graves and Soap.

“Soap leave it!” You tell him.

“You have some nerve Graves.” Price says.

Alejandro says something in Spanish again, as an officer approaches each one of your friends. Simon doesn’t put up a fight. He knows there’s risk in fighting back when they’re all injured, and while they had weapons, there didn’t need to be more blood shed.

“You did really good kid. Your dad would be proud.” Graves said patting you on the shoulder, raising his voice a little so everyone in the room can hear.

“What?” You ask.

“Seriously I don’t think even your dad could pull an undercover case like so well. Impressive.” Graves continues.

Soap looks at you with a look of anger and betrayal.

“You little shit.” Johnny says, looking you dead in the eyes. No. There was no way. What the fuck. You don’t know what to say. Before Johnny can do anything, he’s pinned to the closest wall and put in handcuffs. Kyle raises his hands, and Rudolfo is helped up. Alejandro is ignoring the Miranda rights and continuing to tell them off in Spanish. All you can do is stand there with Graves gently nudging you around so everyone can be escorted out. You stare at the ground unable to face anyone. You don’t know how to feel. You’re upset your friends are being arrested, you’re worried about what will happen to them, you’re pissed at Graves for what ever shit he was pulling, and… you were scared. Once everyone is outside, it’s just you and Graves.

He shuts the door instructing his officers to wait downstairs.

“What the fuck.” You say turning and facing him. Graves looks back at you with a stern expression.

“You did it kid good job.” He says.

“I didn’t do shit! You! This was all you!” You shout.

“Listen to m-“

“No! I’m done. I resigned! I left the force because I finally found something worth doing and the one second I trust you, you turn around a pull this shit!”

“I am trying to hel-“

“No! No you didn’t. If anything you’ve done the exact opposite of what I wanted. I’m not a cop, and I’m not my father! You fucked up and now you’ve pinned it on me.” You say and you leave the room slamming the door closed.

Once you get outside you catch sight of Price before the door is closed on him. It’s a look that haunts you, and is unreadable. A couple of officers come over to congratulate you on an excellent con. You shove past them and leave the scene. You don’t want to be there anymore. You just want to go home. Except you can’t go home. Your home just got piled into cars and taken to the police station.

So you return to your old apartment. You sit on the couch after getting yourself a beer. You don’t know what to do now. You’re pissed off and afraid. But you know there isn’t much you can do.

“You’re not your father.” Those words sting all night.

Graves returns to the police station where he sees a pleased Makarov. He gives a smug look to Makarov striding over to stand next to him.

“Officer Graves. Well done.” Makarov says with praise.

“Wish I could take the glory, but not me.” Graves says watching the 141 be taken to the holding cells. Makarov glances at Graves.

“Unfortunately we lost a few good officers thanks to undercover work… but I don’t think I need to tell you that.” Graves says giving Makarov a friendly nudge, before checking his watch.

“I better get going. I haven’t eaten anything all night, need to run a couple errands.”

“Who is responsible for bringing them in?” Makarov asks.

“Heh, believe it or not, the officer who resigned. Kid can do a long con.” Graves says, before leaving the station. Makarov looks toward the holding cells. A bit of time and it would hardly be an issue. This kid would certainly be an issue, but something to worry about later.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @tai-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666

[sufrimientilia]

Harvest

execution | fake execution | begging for mercy @augusnippets Day 10

cw: medical whump, lethal injection, see above

He awoke with all his limbs stretched out over hard cold metal. The air was so cold his breath fogged and melted against the harsh light suspended right above him, and he was entirely naked. Metal clicked and clinked when he started shaking, his wrists and ankles restrained. He tried to turn his head but a leather strap was pinned tight across his brow.

The smell of medical soap was so strong his nostrils might as well have been sterile. His eyes wildly shot around, trying to see everything or anything and only catching harsh fluorescent glares and smooth reflective metal in his periphery. This didn’t look like the usual operating theater, crawling with nurses and researchers and too many monitors tracking every part of him. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

He swallowed against the dryness in his mouth. Panic mounted in his chest. “Wh… where…”

“Subject MH-248.” He jerked at the voice, some whitecoat with a clear plastic face mask moving to loom at his side. He could hear latex squelching around glass. “You’ve been slated for repurposing. The procedure won’t take long; just relax.”

The whitecoat had gloves on, and they were preparing some sort of vial by giving it a gentle shake and wiping an alcohol pad over the top. Over and over again. Milky liquid sloshed around and around, and then the vial slipped easily into the reservoir of some sort of infusion machine hanging right overhead. It had three ports, and the middle one already held a big capsule of what must’ve been saline. The whitecoat moved to grab a third vial.

“Re… purposing?” he asked. Everything was behind a fine mist, even the cold biting at his skin. Numb despite the anxiety coiling deep within him. He weakly pulled at his restraints and felt the two IVs already inserted in each arm.

“It’s a transitionary procedure. Moving on to a new phase as a subject.” Another vial in the corner of his eye, this one filled with an oily blue liquid. The whitecoat carefully inserted a syringe and added a few milliliters of something else. “You have been scheduled for Harvest.”

His eyes widened. He knew what that was; all the subjects knew. The Harvest was the final, inevitable phase of their stay in the facility. “W-… wait…”

The whitecoat wiped the top of the vial with alcohol, again and again, and inserted it into the last reservoir. The infusion machine gave a mechanical click.

“Stop… stop. Please— just wait, wait.”

“Stay still now.” The infusion machine whirred to life at the press of a button. It was like something started spinning on the inside, churning and churning until the milky liquid traveled down the line.

Down the line, through two tubes, and into each arm.

“Please, please stop! I’m a good subject, I’m still useful, I'll behave—” He jerked at the crash of warmth, a sickly feeling through his veins. Like the liquid was molasses and just too thick to mix with his blood. Too thick and heavy, numbing and tingling under his skin, flooding through him all at once. “I’ll be… I’ll be better, ‘m… I’m still…”

“You’ll still be useful, yes,” the whitecoat assured him. “You're a good subject, and the Harvest fulfills many uses here at the Facility. But your last wishes are noted. Thank you for your willing contribution.”

“N-Nnno…” He lost control of his tongue, slipping uselessly behind dumb lips and a thick pool of saliva. Heavy, heavy, heavy, like everything else that sunk and throbbed under the same syrup haze. “Pl’sss.”

The infusion machine clicked and whirred again. The lines cleared with saline, cool and refreshing, but it just made the world blur and blur even more. The molasses pushed through his core.

“Mm… nnngghh…” He was so scared he must’ve pissed himself. Or maybe it was just the drug, paralyzing all of him piece by piece. It didn’t seem to matter, because there was a drain somewhere at his feet and he was lying naked on the perfect kind of table for all sorts of leaking fluids.

Fuck.

“The exit dose is quite relaxing, I’d like to imagine,” the whitecoat was saying, but even that became harder and harder to hear. “Most subjects don’t even seem to notice.”

The infusion machine gave another click, a gentle hum. Blue slowly overtook the line, traveled down and down, and slipped gently into each arm. And that gentle hum stretched out into one long, long string of sound. Indeterminable and hard to reach.

Fading, fading, fading.

[luimagines]

I actually got one of your Bath day packages on your shop (10/10 would recommend) and I love it it! I think I accidentally bit into soap thinking it was candy, or it might’ve been candy and perhaps it wasn’t to my flavor but either way at that moment I was rethinking my life choices lolol. Anyway it gave me an idea, how would the Chain react to reader eating something that they shouldn’t because unbeknownst to the reader it might’ve been poisonous.

Oh! Well thank you so much! <3

I hope you didn't eat one of the bath bombs by mistake ^.^*

I'll see what I can come up with :D

Masterlist

Immediate Reader!

Boys under the cut!

You didn't quite know what you were looking at.

It was a small red berry that you had seen a few birds and a squirrels pick off of the bush. You plucked a few for yourself and held in the palm of your hand.

Your stomach growled in protest.

You knew you shouldn't eat anything you didn't recognize, but realistically you weren't home. You didn't recognize anything.

But if the animals could eat it, that means it was more of less safe, right? At best you'd just have to wash it before you decided to eat any.

There's a stream nearby now that you think about it.

You make your way over to it, feeling a tad regretful and suspicious. You're not doing anything wrong, per say. But you still have the lingering feeling that you shouldn't be doing what you're doing.

It's quiet when you get to the side of the stream. There doesn't seem to be a lot of other animals around you, but they have proven to be in the area as it is.

You dip your hand in the freezing water, letting it run over the berries. There was a stinging sensation as the water collides with your skin but it was quickly ignored in favor of the juicy fruit in your hands.

You pulled your hand away and began to dry them off. Was the water clean? You hoped so.

It was only a few berries after all. Maybe you just try one and then let the others know that there was food in the area. …and poison yourself in the process? Seems dumb.

But what if it's harmless and you're making a big fuss over nothing. They're hardly the size of your fingernail. Just one berry? For science?

You plop one in your mouth and let it roll over your tongue for a minute.

There's no strange taste on the skin of the fruit. It's smooth and chilled from the water.

You bite into it.

The juices that spill forth is sweet and mildly salty. It's a strange combination but an inherently pleasant one. It would make a great refreshment in the summer time and it would be great on a jam. No wonder the squirrels were trying to stash as many as they could.

A small hum leaves your lips as you reach to plop another one in your mouth. "They're not half bad."

Someone says your name with poorly disguised horror. "What are you chewing?"

***

Sky

You snapped your head in the direction of the voice with wide eyes, freezing in place like a dear in headlights.

Sky sprints in our direction, slapping your hand and scattering the berries all over the forest floor. "Are you crazy?!"

"Sky?"

"Do you even know what kind of berries those are? What if they're poisonous?! You don't just eat things you find growing around you!" He's panicking.

Sky paces the space you. His hands flutter all around you, touching you gently but thoughtfully. He checks your pulse, your temperature, your reaction time- he checks if you're swelling or not.

"Sky, I'm ok." You say after a choked minute.

"Are you?" He checks your forehead again, resting he back of his hand against your cheek. "Are you sure?"

You hesitate to respond. He is very close right now. His nose is only inches away from yours. And his eyes- were they always that blue?

You take a step back.

Sky seems to catch on and gasps. "Sorry. Sorry. I wasn't paying attention. Are you feeling ok?"

Truthfully, you're not but you can't let him know that. You nod. "I'm fine. I already ate one. So I think they're fine to eat. Otherwise, I might be dealing with food poisoning-"

He opens his mouth to interject but you hold your hand up, stopping him.

"-later. I feel perfectly fine right now."

He frowns. "I don't trust it."

"We can bring back a twig for one of the others to try and identify it." You offer, pointing in the direction of the little bush. "I think Wild's Sheikah Slate would be able to figure something out. I saw him use it to name a few animals a while ago. Maybe it can do the same with plants."

Sky doesn't seem to convinced but he can't find an argument fast enough. "...Alright. But I don't trust it. The second you start feeling well, you have to tell someone, ok?"

That actually doesn't sound too appealing to you. "...Why?" You chuckle nervously. "No one has to know-"

"Yes, we do." Sky presses. "Otherwise no one is going to know how to properly treat you just cause you're embarrassed to be just as bad as the Champion."

"In his defense, he's not that bad." You roll your eyes.

"Then tell Twilight what you did."

"Hell no."

Four

You straighten up entirely. Your back and neck go rigid and some berries fall from your hand.

You cough. You gasped when you heard his voice and sent the piece of fruit all the way to the back of your throat. It nearly choked you.

"F-four- ahahack!" You gasp for breath. "Don't scare me like that."

Four jogs forward. "Sorry."

He doesn't sound apologetic.

While you're still trying to get the air back into your lung the proper way, Four takes your hand and grabs the berries from them. He inspects them thouroughly and begins to look around the surrounding flora to find where you might have taken them from.

"Ca-can I help you?" You keep coughing. A part of you is a little annoyed about the attempt on your life and the little care he seems to have for it, but you're also a little concerned by said lack of care. Were you in any danger?

"Where did you find theses?" Four holds the berries in his own hand out to you.

Your eyebrows scrunch and you point just beyond a small thicket. "I got them from the bush over there. I saw a few animals eat them and I-"

"Did you eat it?!" He pales and makes a dash towards you.

You feel fine, if a bit winded so his reaction startles you. "No?? You freaked me out and I coughed it up."

Four waits for a moment as if expecting a reaction out of you before he turns around and rushes to the bush your pointed to earlier.

You follow him, feeling ice cold terror slowly fill your veins. "Is it bad? Is it poisonous?"

Four starts looking at the leaves and stems of the plants before he groans loudly. You're aback again but if he's annoyed then maybe you're not in as much danger as he may have thought.

"No, these are fine." He says at last, plucking a few more for good measure. "You're almost as bad as Wild. Putting things in your mouth that you don't recognize-"

"Hey!" You pout. You had thought about it!....You did it anyway, but it crossed your mind! "I was checking on it!"

"Don't scare me again." He grins, tossing a berry in your face. "Just because animal can eat it, doesn't mean that people can. Be careful."

As if to tease you, he puts a few in his mouth and chews them. "Hhmm... We should take a few back for the others, what do you think?"

You huff and sag your shoulders. "I think it's a great idea."

"You can take the credit for finding the bush."

"I think it's the best idea today!"

Hyrule

"....A berry...." You trail off. Something about this makes you feel uneasy. You didn't think you'd be caught by Hyrule of all people and the energy he's giving off leaves you with little room to doubt that you're in trouble.

He meets your eyes with a flat look. His hands land on his hips and his eyebrow goes up. "Oh really? And where did you find it?"

Whoever taught him this is going to hear form your lawyers.

"I found a bush." You say sheepishly, picking a single berry from your small hoard. "I saw animals eating and then I washed them..."

"Uh-huh." Hyrule takes a few steps forward and plucks the berry from your fingers. He looks over it for a minute before bravely putting it in his mouth. "And then what?"

"Wha- Hey!" You panic and drop the berries in the process. "Hyru- Link! You can't just-!"

"Oh these are fine." He says after he swallows. "For a second I thought that they were Thornbull Berries. But the little stem would have a thorn at the top of the fruit and it would taste metallic."

You stare at him unblinkingly until he bends down, picking up the little berries that you dropped. "...What berries are these then?"

"Sweet Tarts." He grins, putting the berries back in the palm of your hand. "They're safe to eat."

You cough and clear your throat. "Oh... Good. Good. Um... I'm guessing the other one you mentioned isn't?"

"Nope. They'll poison you for sure." He says, all chipper and not at all bothered by the information. "Ask me how I know."

Well now you have to. "How do you know?"

"I ate some." He looks back to you with a grin. "Enough so that I've built up a tolerance to the effects of them. So I can eat a few of them safely. You, however, cannot. So don't eat things you don't know, ok?"

You looks away in embarrassment and tapping your toe on the ground. "...Someone had to."

"We have food back at the camp." He laughs. "Where'd you find these anyway? I want more. Do you think Wild can make a pie while we're out here."

You feel like you've been given whiplash. You lead him to where you found the berry bush and he starts happily picking the berries. Now you're a little put off the innocent berries but if Hyrule gave them the all clear then you've got no problem eating them, right?

You sigh and start to help picking them off of the small bush. "If he manages to make it, I would be very impressed."

Hyrule giggles, unaware of the inner turmoil he sent you in. "I'm sure we can ask. If not, then maybe he can make a dessert instead."

You nod and take out a small bag to put them in. Hopefully there's enough for everyone to enjoy.

Wind

Wind gasps and takes a step back. The look of horror on his face is unmistakable. "Is that blood?"

"What?" You nearly choke on the berry when you speak. The juice runs down your chin and the flesh of the fruit hangs at the back of your throat.

Wind runs to you, hitting your back as hard as he can to "help".

"Wind." Your voice comes out strained. "Wind, please."

He doesn't stop.

You have to swat him away. "Link, I'm fine!"

You certainly don't sound fine. Wind frowns and hovers around you, waiting for any sign to show that you're getting worse.

"Are you ok?" He asks at last.

You have to restrain yourself from glaring at the young boy. "I'm fine. I was eating some berries I found. Do you-" You have to clear your throat again. "Do you need something?"

Wind makes a small humming noise. "I was looking for you. Legend wanted your help with getting Four to agree with him on blacksmithing techniques."

You make a face. "Why on earth does he think I have anything to say about that?"

Wind shrugs.

You cough again and use your sleeve to clean up the remains of the berry, both from your face and your shirt. "I hope the stains come out."

Wind and clears his throat. "What were you eating?"

"Berry." You spit the remains of it out. "I was checking if they were safe to eat."

"By eating them?" Wind tilts his head.

"...." You raise and eyebrow. "Is there any other way?"

Wind opens his mouth to argue but he can't think of an answer fast enough. Knowing that you're more or less saved by the bell, you ruffle his hair and drop the rest of the berries on the ground. Even if they were safe to eat in the end, you don't want to risk your reputation on that.

"Did the Champion say that lunch was going to be ready yet?" You sling your arm around his shoulders. You're quick to change directions, distracting the young hero from the mess you may or may not have made.

"Not yet." Wind says, quickly letting himself be guided away.

You let out a small breath. Oh well, those berries weren't worth it.

Wild

"Wild!" You cry, the half chewed berry spits out of your lips. "Don't scare me like that!"

He snaps a picture.

"Hey!" You swallow the other berry and glare at him. "Get rid of that! I probably look like a chipmunk!"

"A human. A bipedal creature with three dimensional vision, surround sound hearing and technicolor sense of smell." The sheikah slate speaks.

You both freeze and whatever you were about to say get lodged in your throat. "...I didn't know it could do that."

"It's the first time it's happened." Wild chuckles nervously, snapping another picture.

"Wild!" You pout harder. "A warning! Is that too much to ask for!"

"Sweet Tart Berries." The sheikah slate speaks again. "Not to be confused for Thronbull Berries. These berries are sweet and tangy to eat and are known to make delicious pastries, a royal family favorite."

Wild points to your hand that holds the berries. "I'm getting them. Where did you find them?"

"I-in the bush?" You point your finger in the direction they came from. Wild all but dives in that direction as he started to harvest the little berries. "Are we not going t question that your thingy just spoke?"

"Nope." Wild grins, putting the berries in said thingy. "I was just checking to see if my slate to recognize and categorize whatever it was you were eating. the first picture was just a bonus."

You deadpan. "A bonus?"

Wild pauses and his ears flick. "Ok, fine. I actually missed it but I got it the second time. Good find! These are pretty good!"

You feel light headed. enough so that you bring yourself to the ground to sit. "Right...what are Thornbull Berries?"

"I... don't know." Wild moves away from the bush, picking as much as he needed. The taps a few times on the sheikah slate and the voice picks up one moce.

"Thornbull Berries. Typically confused for Sweet Tart Berries, but are poisonous in nature. Known to create a burning sensation in the first thirty minutes of consumption before moving to lose of motor control and eyesight. Victims of the berry can be classified as dead three hours afterwards."

You and Wild slowly turn your head to the bush. "We're not telling anyone else."

"Agreed."

Time

"Spit it out. Right now." Time charges over to you, taking you by the shoulders.

You swallow it.

Time only seems to pale. "What on earth?" He says you're name as if he was scolding a child. "What do you think you're doing?"

"E-eating a berry." You hold out the small bundle in your palm, hoping that he's going to go easy on you. "I found them in the bush-"

"Those are poisonous!" He smacks them out of your hand, instantly checking your pulse and your forehead and your palms.

You're thrown for a loop. You didn't think they were that bad. If anything they were delicious. So it's hard to equate something that tasty into something that's going to kill you.

"But..." You squeak, unable to stay confident in his panic. It was incredibly unnerving to see him in such a state "I already ate one. And I feel fine."

Time pauses, letting your words bounce around in his skull. He checks your face again, looking into your eyes and double checking your temperature. "Are you sure?"

You nod.

"Any nausea? Burning? Pain? Disinterest in fate?"

You start giggling and shake your head. "I'm fine!"

Time doesn't seem to convinced. "Are you sure?"

"If I was in pain or feeling like I was being burned alive, I would say so. I doubt I would be able to hide that kind of thins anyway." You shrugs. "I'm not like Warrior or Legend. those two can fake a broken bone and get away with it. I cry with a paper cut."

He seems to calm down with your words, although he remains suspicious. He keeps an raised eyebrow in your direction as he watches for any change in your reaction.

You calm down as well. Maybe he misread the situation? Sure, he scared the heck out of you the first go around, but now that he's still suspicious despite the lack of results, you feel silly in his behalf. You start to giggle again at the thought.

"What?" Time despairs. "Don't tell me you're feeling dizzy."

You shake your head and instead poke Time. "You're too serious, Old Man. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

You brush him off and start to pick up the berries that fell on the ground. "I'm going to wash these and eat more. You are welcome to join me."

Time runs his hand down his face. "You're joking. Tell me you're joking."

"Nope! They're deliciously tart and I'm going to eat as many as I can!" Are you being cheeky? Maybe. But it seems worth it given his reaction.

Time sighs, looking ten years older already. However, you don't feel remotely apologetic. He should learn to live a little, honestly.

Twilight

You instantly feel your heart pause and skip a beat. You swallow the berry instinctively before speaking. "...I found a berry bush."

Part of you wonders what's going through his head. He looks concerned and panicked but not enough to do anything about it, you guess.

"Do you want some?" You try to sweeten the deal. Something about Twilight gives off disappointed mother energy and you don't care for that at all. Is this what Wild has to deal with almost on the daily? How does he not go crazy?

He stares you down and then does something weird. He leans in close to your face and starts to sniff.

"Twilight...What are you doing?" You try to lean away but he only follows you. He sniffs close to your neck and your lip before he reaches down to your hand, taking a berry and sniffs that too.

"Smells alright..." He mutters to himself before he gives a little lick to the berry.

You feel instant shame blast onto your face and you force yourself to look away. "Link please."

"No toxins."

You stop dead in your mental train of thought. "Come again?"

"Where did you find these?" He's ignoring your questions.

You blankly point to where you found the berry bush. He stars heading in that direction without a second thought, sniffing the air still.

You feel weirder now that he's no longer in your direct line of sight. You thought the fur pelt was just for aesthetic of warmth... what's with the dog attempts?

You follow him, unable to think of doing anything other than that. He still hasn't told what he's doing and you feel like you've been slapped in the face with a fish. You need answers now.

"Twilight?" You call out to him and find him crouched next to the bush. He's sniffing that too. You're even more confused. You're almost certain Wild doesn't have to go through this. "Why are you being weird today?"

Twilight opens his eyes and picks a small berry off the bush. He takes the tiniest of bites out of it, keeping another berry (probably the one you gave him) up so he can continue examining it.

"These are safe to eat." He beams at you, waving the small berry in between his fingers. "Good find! I'm sure we can have a few."

"You- that- what-" You're left scrambling. Well considering you feel completely fine, you would assume that they're safe. "Was that what this was all about?"

Twilight tilts his head and pops another berry into his mouth. "What what was about?"

You gape. He can't be serious. Is he gas lighting you right now? "The whole sniffing thing!"

"The nose knows. What can I say?" He shrugs, eating more berries.

You flops your arm uselessly. That tells you nothing. You eat another berry out of spite. You're asking Wild if Twilight has done that before. It's absurd.

Warrior

You start coughing, not expecting to have been caught and by him of all people. You choke on the berry mush within your mouth and are forced to spit it out.

"Captain!" You shout. "Don't scare me like that!"

"I scared you?" He glares. "What about you? Putting things in your mouth without even know what they are!"

"I know what they are!" You shout back indignantly.

Warrior crosses his arms and crosses the distance between you both. "Then what are they?"

"Berries." You pop another one in your mouth to prove a point. "And they're delicious."

Warrior frowns and takes a berry out of your hand. He turns it over once, ignoring the way you glare at him for the near death experience before he also tosses it into his mouth. He looks just as annoyed as you feel before he softens entirely. "Oh."

"Yes." You toss your hair back. "Oh. Hey. The not-hero was right. Go figure. Who knew it was possible? You should listen to me more often."

"Ok, ok." Warrior puts his hands up in surrender. "Point made."

You take another one from your palm and wave it in his face. "They're tasty. I told you so."

"You did." Warrior shakes his head. "You win. What are they called?"

"I have no idea."

"..."

"..."

"So let me get this straight." Warrior is back in his serious mode. "You saw berries."

"Yes."

"You didn't recognize them."

"Yes."

"And ate them anyway?"

"Nice summary of the last fifteen minutes of my life." You eat another berry, making sure to chew it slowly.

You can see Warrior bite the inside of his cheek. It's almost funny, watching him trying to keep his cool around you.

"You're impossible."

"You love me." You flick his forehead. "What's the worse that can happen?"

"They're poisonous.'" He answers without missing a beat. "Which is what I thought at first. They look a lot like Thornbull berries. Smell different though."

"I have no idea what those are."

"....Yeah that checks out."

Legend

You freeze and try to keep your back turned to the hero who's caught you.

Legend says your name again. He's even more stern. "What are you eating?"

You swallow it and turn around. Why do you feel like you're in trouble? It's not like you're doing anything wrong. "I found some berries. they seemed safe to eat so I was just-"

"Seemed?" He stressed the word in a way that doesn't feel right. "They seemed safe to eat?!"

Now you feel indignant. You pluck another berry from the small pie in your palm to show him. "Yes. They did. And frankly, they're delicious."

Then you plop the next one into your mouth.

Legend's jaw drops. "I can't believe you."

"Start believing." You pop two more into your mouth. "They're interesting and I like them."

You wave the last one in his face before holding out to him. "Want to try it?"

Legend frowns, looking at the berry in your hand. He makes no move to take it at first and instead focuses on your face. "How do you it's edible?"

"I saw some other animals eat it." You shrugs, keeping your hand out. "Had to admit, it made me curious."

You wave the berry in his face. "You know you want to~~"

Legend makes another face before tentatively reaching for the berry. The action makes you feel victorious, like you've won some silent challege.

"The Traveler would know if this is safe to eat or not." He speaks quietly, turning the innocent berry over in his fingers.

"But he's not here right now." You press. "Come on!! Don't be a scardey cat. Live a little. If it was bad to eat, I would probably be showing signs of it already."

That seems to win him over. Legend brings the berry to his lip and bites half of it. His eyes light up and his ear move a little bit higher. "Hm!"

"Right? They're good!" You clap his shoulder. "Should be bring some for the the others?"

"Do you think the Champion would be able to do something with this?" Legend bites the other half.

"No clue. But we can always ask."

Legend wipes his fingers on his tunic. "Where'd you get them?"

"They're growing on a bush over there." You grin. "Come on I'll show you."

[bromcommie]

CATCH UP TAG (BRING IT BACK NOW) (combo edition?)

tagged by @mandyyvibes @somanywords and @thankssaragorn thank you <333

Favorite color: still firmly in camp green. Specifically whatever the fuck it is nature puts in late spring leaves with all that sunlight backlighting them that makes me lose my marbles and just. sit there losing time for hours.

Last song: not a hundred percent sure? Because it was over on YouTube and I have history off but it was probably this guy, which! Sorry, yikes. (I mean that as in: this is deeply heartfelt, but also possibly not entirely translatable nor my brightest musical moment.)

or,

their lyrics are very: was this guy onto something big or was he just onto a realization about empathy most people've already figured out by 14 or was he just very, very high (or am I?) but god, I have an incredible (and incredibly nostalgic) soft spot for The War on Drugs. And also their instrumentals being somehow very melancholy and hopeful at the same time gets me every time. (There's a whole playlist involved, I'm afraid. Some of it blorbo-ified.)

Last book: The Most Secret Memory of Men by Mohamed Mbougar Sarr. I’m only about a quarter in so I’ll abstain from any decisive commentary, but so far I’m mostly enjoying it.

Last movie: The Sound of Music. My grandma had it on the TV last week and was singing along incredibly loudly. We had a blast.

Last TV show: Ugh…season 5 of You. And I hated it profoundly even as an ugh fine play in the background while I make dinner because there's nothing better on Netflix soap opera. It was just...really not very enjoyable to me even within its own established genre. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Immediately before that, season 3 of White Lotus, which I actually have a surprising number of opinions on, but they still for the most part all boil down to: ugh. I guess, fine? Which is not necessarily the sentiment you want to get from your polished, rich people doing wildly entertaining shit HBO drama.

Sweet/savory/spicy: still a sodium freak with a strong spicy streak. But also I’ve had this question a bunch of times in a row now and it’s not all that fun nor revealing (without getting personal), so let me propose either: what's your favorite season (and why)? and/or, do you like golden hour or “blue” hour better (and why)? for anyone else doing this after me. Only if you want, of course.

Last thing I googled, or duckduckgo’d—duckduckwent?—looked up: Franco Citti Accattone. Again. For recreational/R&D purposes, meaning I've made up a blorbo all for myself and assigned him a face and now I have to refer to it for the rest of my life, apparently.

Looking forward to: hanging out with my cousin from out of town this week! Yay! (Also hopefully getting a decent examiner and fucking passing my driver's test in May lol but like. knock on wood, spit on anything within reach, make the sign of the cross three times, or whatever you guys might have to offer. Please.)

Current obsessions: well :) I suppose besides the obvious: my Duolingo streaks that I've recently resuscitated. It's frankly a kind of meh (and aggressive, holy shit) language learning software, esp if you've got multiple languages at different lvls of development, so I'm always looking for better alternatives (please help, again?). But it's a nice compulsion to have as opposed to just refreshing other apps obssessively and if you're really meticulous with it you might even get to write down some word definitions.

Favourite crisp: gonna do the same thing as with the sweet/savoury/spicy thing, and answer—anything very, very salty! And also add: What’s your go-to comfort music/song/playlist? and/or, what’s your creative outlet (even if you don’t consider yourself a “creative” person?)

Last song you sang out loud: honestly no clue. It might be either Somebody Told Me by The Killers or I've Heard That Song Before by Harry James & Helen Forrest. I've been on a weird kick lately

The last book I opened: Nature Is A Human Right ed. Ellen Miles, in trying to find a quote and make someone see a very blatant point. And it didn't work, unfortunately :|

Earbuds, headphones, or nothing? Headphones when on my computer, earbuds on the street and nothing at home. But let me once again be too nosy and offer a replacement ask: Do you get more caught up listening to music by yourself, with friends, or in a crowd?

Last place I went to other than home: driving exam :|||| It went well, until it didn't.

A colour that looks good on you: eh blue or green or black. But who am I to say.

Last trailer you saw: Um, I think Together? Or possibly Bring Her Back? I'm a big trailer person, I watch a lot of them. This month was apparently the psychological horror special. Either way, that's more or less what I want most psychological horror trailers to show me. Yes, girl. Give me a lot of mundane everday acts painted sinister! And possibly a child acting weird! Yes, give me nothing in terms of plot!

I feel like this has been around x500 times but no pressure tagging @helly-ena @emjee @village-skeptic @snowangeldotmp3 @hardtobeasaintdotmp3 @gyokujyn @one-eyed-bossman. And please, anyone else that feels like doing it: do it! <3

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: I wanna take this time to thank everyone for continuing to read & support this story. I can't begin to express my gratitude & love for all of you! I feel like the updates for his story have been lacking a bit since I've been in school. Now I'm starting work this week, I'm afraid I'll become slower w/ updates, but I won't give up on his story. I love it so much. Even if it takes me till December to finish it, I WILL. I hope y'all enjoy! -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen PT I & II. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Epilogue + Soundtrack.

********

FOURTEEN: SWEET MEDICINE.

You wake up the next morning to a blinding light. 

At first, you think the snake bite got you and you’ve officially entered the afterlife, but then you hear Gojo’s voice. He is laughing and singing, his voice loud and off-key. You also hear the sound of running water. 

Once your eyes adjust, you find yourself lying beneath the trees in the same spot you feel asleep in. You slowly sit up, naked underneath your blanket and your foot elevated. You’re not in any kind of pain from the bite. Surprisingly enough, you don’t feel anything, but that doesn’t scare you like it should. 

Instead, you feel thirsty. You have a burning in your throat that can only be quenched with water. Any normal human being would simply go get water, so you do just that, not even paying any mind to the fact that you’re completely buttnaked. The early morning summer breeze cools your balmy skin as you walk through the forest, following the sound of the running water and Gojo’s awful singing. 

When you finally make it to your destination, all thoughts of water suddenly leave you at the sight of your partners in crime soaking in the water. The trees have given away to a beautiful creek and waterfall where cool, refreshing-looking water rushes freely down into the creek Geto and Gojo occupy. The water luckily hits their waist, so you don’t see anything below. 

You stand behind a tree with a thick tree trunk, shamelessly watching the outlaws scrub their arms and legs, sinewy with muscles and fine hair, with handmade soap and fern from pine leaves. Gojo faces you, his pecs and stomach glistening with water, while Geto has his big, muscular back to you.

“Would you please stop singin’ that song?” he groans, exasperated. “Other songs other than “Texas Hold ‘Em” exist, Satoru.” 

Gojo laughs, his blue eyes glistening in the sunlight. “But it’s the only song that matters right now!” he protests. “Don’t act like it ain’t catchy!” He continues to sing, his voice echoing among the empty forest, as loud as the rushing water. 

Geto shushes him, splashing him. “Keep your voice down! She’s probably still…” Gojo suddenly goes quiet, his eyes meeting yours across the way from where you stand. Geto turns around, his eyes aglow at the sight of you. “Oh, never mind.” 

“Hey, you!” Gojo cheerily says, breaking out into a smile. “You woke up just in time! We’re almost done if you want a dip. How’s that foot doin’?” You don’t answer, instead silently staring at them. You greedily drink in their bodies, hardened and scarred by years of their outlaw lifestyle. 

“Y/N?” Geto blinks at you, confused and worried about you not talking. Holding his beautiful, mahogany eyes with yours, you slowly reveal yourself to him and Gojo, stepping into the sunlight. Their lips part and their eyes widen at the sight of your naked body. 

Slowly, you stumble towards them, but Geto quickly reaches over and stops you, his arms blocking you from walking any further into the creek. “Whoa, whoa, wait,” he protests. “What are you doin’, little miss?” 

You twist toward him in his arms, smiling at the way the sunlight sparkles in his eyes. He’s so handsome. “You look so good,” you sigh. “I want you…want you to fuck me now.” Your hands trail down his chiseled chest, down his stomach, and farther down, down down— 

Geto quickly grabs your wandering hands, stopping you from moving down any further. “Hold on just a sec,” he says. “W-We can’t–” 

“He can join too,” you add, nodding at a shocked Gojo watching from afar. “I can handle two of y’all. Just let me show you…” You lean in towards the black-haired outlaw, your eyes trained on the same lips you felt on your body last night. 

“Wait, Y/N, stop,” he firmly says. His expression is hard, but worried. “Don’t do this.” You take that as a sign of rejection. He doesn’t want you. Suddenly, you feel burned and your lip wobbles as a random rush of tears begins to break. “Don’t you want me?” you sniffle. “Don’t you…” 

A sudden wave of nausea stops you from talking and you press a hand to your forehead, suddenly light-headed. Geto presses a hand to your back, rubbing it gently. 

“Y/N?” he questions. 

You open your eyes to look at two of them, but find there to be four, spinning and whirling and mixing into one another. “There’s four of you,” you giggle, gripping Geto’s forearms. “I-I feel funny.” 

That’s the last thing you say before you feel yourself lose your head and fatigue fall over you. Your knees crumble and you go limp in Geto’s arms. “Y/N!” Geto shouts, that being the last thing you hear as darkness overtakes you. 

*********

The next time you wake up, you see another blinding light. Now you really think you’re dead. 

“Oh, good,” an unfamiliar, deep voice says. “You’re awake. I was so sure you wouldn’t wake up at all.” 

When your eyesight adjusts, you turn your head to your head to find a handsome blonde man sitting in an armchair reading a book and drinking coffee. A white lab coat drapes over his blue button-up and slacks underneath, glasses perched on his nose. You squint at him, unsure of why he seems so familiar to you. 

When you see his eyes, that night at the train tracks comes rushing back to you. You sit up immediately. “It’s you!” you exclaim. “What are you doin’ here?” Once you do sit up, you regret it and press a hand to your pounding head. 

Nanami smiles at you, closing his book. ‘Well, you’re in my infirmary,” he chuckles. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Ms. Y/N.” 

Infirmary? Now that your vision has cleared more, you take a look around the strange room: polished wooden floorboards, butter yellow walls, and a wooden nightstand where a covered bowl of fruit and a glass of water sit. You sit in a comfortable bed surrounded by machines, including an IV in your wrist. These machines and the paper gown you wear prove Nanami’s words correct. 

Nanami rises from his seat, places his book on his chair, and walks to the window. “Where am I?” you ask. “I mean, other than in your infirmary.” He twists the blinds open, hitting you with rays of sun and a sight of apple trees blossoming with pink flowers outside your window. “Willow Springs,” he answers. “Your friends brought you here about three days ago. They rode like hell to get you here after you–” 

“Wait, wait,” you cut in, your eyes widening at the newfound information. “I’ve been here for three days?” Nanami nods, closing the blinds the minute you begin to rub your temples. 

You try to backtrack your steps and remember the last time you were conscious. You see flashes of the Devil’s Trail and its hot, sandy trails; the snake lashing at your ankle; the starry night sky; Gojo and Geto’s eyes. They’re all just flashes. No clear, cut memories you can focus on. “Why the hell can’t I remember nothin’?!” you exclaim. “Why can I–oh, my head hurts.” 

Your head feels like it’s about to explode with how hard it’s pounding. Not to mention how parched you are. As if reading your mind, Nanami passes you the glass of water along with the bowl of fruit. “Relax, eat and take a sip.” 

You do as he says and take a long sip of the water before taking off the lid on the bowl and popping a strawberry into your mouth. The sweet, juicy, tarty taste of the berry explodes onto your tongue and you tingle with pleasure. Nanami watches you from afar, arms crossed. 

Then he begins to relay more information to you: “After you were bit by that snake, the venom had a prolonged spread, meanin’ that it didn’t spread as quickly in the first few hours after you got bit. But after some time, probably during the night into the next morning, it slowly spread throughout your veins. Your immune system couldn’t fight the toxins, so that’s why you fainted at some point and were unconscious for so long.” 

He comes over to the end of the bed and takes hold of the warm cotton blanket covering you. “Brace yourself,” he says before peeling back the blanket to reveal your foot. 

You gape in horror at your foot tightly wrapped in bandages, your toes slightly red and peeking out of the handmade boot. “Oh, my God,” you gasp. “Look at my toenails!” They are black as if some kind of fungus has formed underneath them. 

“Those will clear up with the antibiotics I’ve been givin’ you,” Nanami explains. “As I said before, the Gunslingers rode like hell to get you here and immediately made a call to me to ask for help. Since you’ve been out, I’ve been takin’ care of you.” 

You blink up at the doctor, your heart fluttering at the mention of the Gunslingers. They brought you here? “They thought you were dead when they brought you in,” Nanami solemnly continues. “If they would’ve waited a day longer to bring you here, you would’ve been.” 

You don’t even want to think about that. “Where are they?” you ask. “Where’s my horse?” 

“All stayin’ at a bed and breakfast ten minutes away for the time being while you recover,” the doctor replies. “They’ve been visitin’ you daily, so they’ll be happy to know that you’ve awakened.” 

Once again, your stomach flaps and flutters like a jar full of butterflies at the mention of the gunslinging duo. Not only did they rush to bring you here while you were on the brink of death, but they also have been visiting you. You sip your water to hide how much this affects you. “Well, thank you for the help, Kento,” you say, “but I need to–” 

“I’m sorry, but you can’t go anywhere just yet,” Nanami interrupts, his tone soft but firm. You blink at him, confused. “You’ll have to rest at least for another week and gradually move on to walkin’ again. But you will walk.” 

You gape at him, wondering if he’s deadass. A week?! You can’t afford to lose a week of lying about when your target is out there somewhere…and probably looking for you. “Listen, I can’t be here right now,” you sternly argue, peeling back the blanket. “I have someone after me. Benji the Bandit–” 

“Doesn’t know you’re here,” Nanami says, putting the blanket back on you. “And before you ask, yes, our sheriff knows you and the Gunslingers are here, but he agreed to keep you here until you’ve recovered and as long as you don’t cause trouble. I doubt you’ll do much of that on that foot.” 

He nods down at your tightly wrapped foot that could scare even the hardest man alive. You sigh, realizing he’s right. You can’t do anything right now. “Thank you,” you say. “I mean it and…I’m sorry I’m so paranoid.” 

You feel embarrassed for acting the way that you do. Suddenly, you remember Geto’s words that he said to you on the Devil’s Trail: “You’re too hellbent…too reckless…” 

You wither with shame, realizing that he’s right. The reason you were put on those train tracks and bitten by that snake is all because of you and your stupid decisions. Maybe a week stuck in a bed is exactly what you need. Maybe it’s God’s way of telling you, “Slow the fuck down, my child!” 

Nanami shrugs, looking like it couldn’t bother him less. “Don’t mention it. I told you already that this town respects what you and the Gunslingers do for those who’ve been victimized by troubled folk.” You smile, feeling good about that. You didn’t realize so many people respected you other than feared you. 

The door suddenly creaks open and a young man with fluffy, pink hair and a bright smile pokes his head in. “Oh, she’s awake!” he says. “Mr. Nanamin, there’s an old couple downstairs who wants to see you, sir!” 

Nanami nods, already walking to the door. “Thank you, Itadori.” The pink-haired boy’s smile grows wider and he pops out of frame. “Excuse me for a moment,” Nanami says, taking his glasses off and placing them in his coat pocket. “Help yourself to the rest of the fruit.” 

He then closes the door and leaves you alone to your own devices. You sit there and chomp on the sliced apples, oranges, and strawberries before you hear the door creak open once more. “She’s right in here,” Nanami whispers. “Just please be gentle with her. She looks like she’s had a rough journey.” 

Your heart leaps, thinking that it’s the Gunslingers coming to see you. Though these visitors aren’t, your heart still pounds as fast as a hummingbird’s wings at the sight of the old couple standing before you. 

The woman wears a floral blue dress and matching flats, her silver hair that you remember always playing with when you were younger tied into a long braid going down her back. Her face has more lines than before, aged with time, but she still has those loving brown eyes that remind you of those chocolate chip cookies she used to bake you, warm and sweet. 

She covers her mouth at the sight of you, her eyes glassy and the gold band on her ring finger gleaming. It’s nice to know that after all this time, they are still together. “Y/N,” she tearfully sobs. “Oh, my darlin’, it’s really you!” 

You feel tears begin to push past your eyes too when you recognize them. “Mama,” you whisper. “Papa.” 

Her husband, who has more prominent lines and wrinkles in his face, takes his cowboy hat off of his head, showing off the same salt-and-pepper hair that he has on his chin. He wears a flannel and slacks with a corduroy jacket that you remember him always wearing. 

“Sweetheart,” he gasps. “Thank God, you’re okay! We’ve been worried sick about you, my love!” 

Mr. Eren and Mrs. Yuri Tokyoami immediately rush to your bed and stand on either side of it. They don’t touch you immediately, too afraid of startling you or possibly accidentally ripping out a wire, but they still take your hands in either of yours, gripping them tightly. 

You can’t believe it. You can’t believe your parents are here after all this time. “How’d you find me?” you ask, shocked. 

“We’re year-long patients of Dr. Nanami,” Yuri explains. “Your father needed his knee fixed years ago and we mentioned him to you.” You look at Nanami who only smiles, silently watching by the door. 

“Minus the outlaw part,” Eren chuckles, placing his hat at the foot of the bed. “I guess he put the pieces together once you were here and he called us immediately. We moved here three years after you left ‘cause the taxes got too high. After I sold the old farm and Yuri’s apprentice took over the bakery, we bought a much bigger farm here a couple of miles down the road.” 

The gears in your head turn slowly, processing all of this newfound information, but when your dad tells you that they moved to Willow Springs three years after you left home, you pause. “Y-You’ve been livin’ here this whole time?” you shakily ask. 

He nods, his expression confused. He doesn’t understand. He can’t understand. Neither one of them could ever. 

For so long, you’ve been wondering where they are and if they still lived in Elden’s Valley. You resisted the urge to go home, to call, or to even write a letter. You wondered if they still missed you or if they were still looking for you…if they even remembered you. 

And here they are now, aged with time and yet still so full of the same love they had for you years ago when they found you in that cart of flowers. 

You burst into tears again, covering your face. Yuri places a hand on your back, comforting you. Then you feel both of their arms around you, finally being embraced by the people you love most. “I’m sorry,” you sob. “I would’ve sent a letter or called if I knew, but I couldn’t–” 

“Honey, we know,” Yuri coos, caressing your hair. “We’ve seen you in newspapers and on those ‘Wanted’ posters. All we could do was pray for you to be safe and to one day come back to us.” 

To hear that be made perfectly clear to you—that they never forgot you—makes you cry even harder. “I’ve done so many things!” you cry. “Papa, I-I’ve–” 

“Hush now, darlin’,” he shushes you, pressing your head into his chest. He smells of tobacco and mint like he always has. “You’re still our little girl. Our flower, no matter what you’ve done in life. We could never be disappointed in you, my love.” 

You clutch his jacket and cry, cry, cry, letting all of your pain and longing come up to the surface. And at some point, Nanami leaves the room to give you time alone with your family who cry with you. 

*******

 That night, after your parents leave you to head back home, you spend the night in Nanami’s infirmary where you’re visited by two ghosts of your very recent past. 

Those ghosts being Geto and Gojo the Gunslingers. You’re chomping down on your dinner of assorted fruits, a spring salad, and green tea (Nanami insisted you eat light for now) when you hear a sudden knock at the door. Nanami has retired to his home, leaving the overnight staff to watch over you. 

You turn, expecting to see one of his aids or nurses there, but your stomach flips when you see Gojo standing there in his cowboy attire, hat and boots included. He only thing different with him are the sunglasses he has on instead of his blindfold. He looks like the fourth blind mouse with them on, but you also find them endearing. 

“Well, look who decided to join the land of the livin’ again,” he jokes. He takes the glasses down, giving you a peak of his blue eyes. “Did a bad dream wake ya, little miss?” 

Geto slides through behind him, taking his black cowboy hat off while Geto keeps his on. His hair is tied into a ponytail, the simple yet sexy hairstyle accentuating his handsome face. “It’s good to see you up, Y/N,” he sighs, sounding relieved. “We were worried.” 

They walk farther into the room, Geto taking a seat in the chair beside your bed while Gojo leans against the wall near the window. You sit up in the bed, feeling slightly embarrassed for them to see you in such a state. You can tell that Geto is genuine too when he says they were worried and you think back to Nanami telling you how hard they rode to get you here. 

“Thank you,” you softly say. Gojo smiles, happy to hear you talking. “We’ve got another visitor here to see ya.” He peels back the curtains to the window and raps lightly on the glass. 

A familiar, long face with big, black eyes and a silky fur appears behind the glass, staring at you. “Reneigh, darlin’!” you joyfully shout. As if hearing you, her ears wiggle.  “We’ve been takin’ care of her while you recovered,” Gojo explains. “Just brushin’ her and braidin’ her hair. She’s a sweetheart.” 

Hearing that they’ve been caring for your horse while you were unconscious makes your heart flutter. You pass it off as being grateful for their generosity. You take. sip of your tea, breathing in the steam, herbs, and lemon. “Nanami told me y’all visited me while I was out.” 

Gojo nods, moving to pick an orange slice out of your fruit bowl without asking. You let him do it. “Had to make sure you were okay,” he says like it’s so obvious. “Y’know, we thought you were already dead when we brought ya here. You felt like a limb noodle.” 

“Well, snake venom will do that to ya,” you chuckle. The duo laughs along with you. “Y’all met my parents too, apparently.” Geto’s eyes light up with recognition. “Oh, the farmer and his sweet wife?” he asks. You nod, inwardly cringing as you remember your parents mentioning the two while they were here. 

While Yuri was rather happy about the idea of the two being your friends, Eren was less than approving. “You’re friends with the Gunslingers?” he asked, sounding extremely perturbed by the idea. Yuri laid a hand on his arm, calming him. “Eren, honey, they saved her life,” she argued. “And they were so nice to us!” 

You gaped up at them, almost dropping your glass of water. “Y’all met them?” you gasped. 

Yuri nodded, smiling fondly. “Oh, they’re such gentlemen,” she gushed. “They came here to visit you at the same time as us one day and we learned that they rode ya in here. Such sweet men, they are.” You still gape at her starry-eyed expression, the gears in your head slowly turning. Geto and Gojo met your parents? 

Eren grunts indifferently. “They may be sweet, but they’re still wanted outlaws.” 

In that moment, you see yourself in him like you’re looking in a mirror. You would have said this same thing months ago before you met Geto and Gojo. All outlaws were the same to you…until them. And you need to defend them. “And so am I, Papa,” you argued, placing your hand on his bigger, wrinkled one. “They don’t kill innocents. They go after evil people, just like me!” 

“And they saved her life,” Yuri added, her eyes loving yet firm as they stared into her husband’s. “Just give ‘em a chance, dear. Y/N did and they seem very happy together.” She turned to you, still starry-eyed and excited. “So how long have you known ‘em? When’s the wedding?” 

You blinked at her, confused. And then you went hot with humiliation. “H-Huh?!” you stammered. “No, Mama, you’ve got it wrong! We’re just friends!” 

Eren looked relieved while Yuri looked like you just shot her. “See, Yuri?” he sighed. “Always jumpin’ to conclusions. She’ll get married when she gets married!” You didn’t ask why your mom seemed so overjoyed about you marrying two of the most notorious outlaws in the Wild West, but you didn’t want to know. 

You flush as you look at the two now, Yuri’s question about marriage still bothering you like a pesty fly. “So how were you two handlin’ things?” You ask, wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible. 

Gojo points at the fruit bowl questionably and you nod, rolling your eyes. Now he decides to ask? He plucks a strawberry out of the bunch this time. “Eh, it’s kinda weird bein’ in one place for so long, but we’ve gotten used to it. It’s pretty nice to sleep in a clean bed and take a shower every mornin’.” 

“We’re stayin’ at a bed an’ breakfast for now,” Geto explains. “Just until you’re healed up, but we don’t really have a timestamp on how long we’ll be stayin’ there for.” 

“And it’s for free!” Gojo happily announces, his joy over such a thing endearing to you. “The old lady who runs the place told us she loves us for our work, so she gave us the room free of charge.” He smirks at you. “To tell ya the truth, I think she just wants to fuck us.” 

Suddenly, a series of memories come flooding back to you: the starry Western skies; the moonlight turning the tips of the trees silver; the softness of Geto and Gojo’s hair between your fingers; their calloused hands; their wet tongues and soft mouths; Gojo’s piano fingers sliding inside of you while Geto plays with your— 

You press a hand to your head, wincing at the embarrassing memories. Now they decide to come back to you of all times?! Geto notices your discomfort and places a gentle hand on your knee. “You alright?” he asks, concerned. 

When you flinch at his touch, he notices and quickly backs off, afraid that he hurt you. “Y-Yeah,” you reply a little too quickly. “M’fine.” You cough into your hand, attempting to recover. “So when are we thinkin’ of gettin’ back on the road to find Benji?” you ask, changing the subject. 

The duo look at each other, silently speaking to one another, and you can see that you said the wrong thing. Gojo quickly sprinkles some sugar on the awkward moment though. “Whoa there, girl,” he chuckles. “Relax! You just woke up from a venom-indunced coma. Can’t the Bandit wait till you’re better?” 

“But I am better!” you protest despite your black toenails and throbbing foot. “Nanami said I should be good in a week, so we can leave then.”

Geto becomes the voice of reason despite your disagreement with him. “You need rest,” he soothingly says. “We’ll have plenty of time to go after Benji once you’re 100%, but for now, just take this time to recuperate.” You think about his and Gojo’s reactions to holding you almost-lifeless body and give in to the duo’s “suggestion”. And just like that, it’s settled. 

“So what’s this about us gettin’ married?” Gojo asks, plucking another orange slice from your fruit bowl. “Your mama seemed pretty animate about that.” He gives you a smirk as he goes to peel the slice, but you snatch it back before he can. 

“Please shut up,” you sigh while Geto laughs.