#can you imagine him seeing you drink an energy drink in the morning instead of a coffee like the hot mess you are?

[ofallthingsnasty]

Nasty can I just get Aizawa to snatch me up real quick? Cause I'm reallllly gunna fail my final exam tommorow and tbh I'd rather be a basement wife then face that monster 😅😂

He wouldn't want me so stressed out, and given I'm so distracted with things it'd be super easy to just pop on in. Basement wives to hot af heros don't need to be smart tbh

😭 Oh no anon, I wish you all the best!! I hope you pass. (I know exactly how you feel... 😭 And maybe you'll pass with some luck? Has happened to me before ahdjjsjjs) 🍀🐖🐞 You can tell me how it went if you want! Sometimes it helps me to rant a little and then move on after a hard one....

Honestly, same! Look at us getting an education when we could be sitting pretty in someone's home, voluntary or not :T And I feel like Shouta especially couldn't stand to see you so stressed out - it would genuinely pluck at his heartstrings. He wants you safe and, most importantly, healthy. That can't be happening when you sob yourself to sleep hours after midnight, dreading the next day because you feel utterly unprepared. Stress is pretty bad for your body - if he waits just a little longer, who knows what it'll cause within you. (Not to mention that he can clearly tell you aren't enjoying yourself... and that just won't do). Snatching you up right now is very sensible. Removes you from a bad situation and puts you into a loving, patient home! Isn't that great?

[viranellee]

i know our mornings (were as good as it ever could be)

synopsis: eddie thinks he's doing a pretty good job at hiding his relationship with the youngest dunne sister. until he isn't.

warnings: smut, dirty talk, usage of alcohol & drugs, billy dunne

a/n: thank you so much for the love on the previous eddie post! this is shit but it's eddie smut and that's all that matters

⁠♡

It all happens so fast you think you’ve imagined it - one minute you’re snorting your (fourth, maybe fifth) line of coke and reaching for another glass of beer, and the next you’re being pulled by your hand until you can breathe in the fresh evening air through your slightly powdery nostrils. You’re still looking down at your feet, hands outstretched and trying to regain your balance, which is a surprisingly hard thing to do using a coked-up brain, when the mystery assailant, probably Billy, starts speaking. You sigh and brace yourself for yet another lecture.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Welp, that’s definitely not Billy. You don’t know if you should be happy about it or not.

You look up and meet Eddie’s eyes, his eyebrows so furrowed that the annoyed wrinkle between them is especially pronounced - you want to reach out and smooth it out with your fingers, you want to tell him that as hot as he looks when he’s pissed off, he shouldn’t be getting wrinkles this early on. You don’t do any of that.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You respond instead, putting a hand on your hip with such force that you make yourself stumble a little bit. In the blink of an eye, Eddie is holding you by the waist, concerned, and you pray to every single entity out there to just make the goddamn sequin dress separating your bodies disappear into thin air, simply to feel his large hands against your skin. “I’m having fun.”

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh and tilts your head upward, cleaning up the cocaine residue around your nose. A part of you finds it weirdly cute.

“Too much fun.” He tells you and you shake your head.

“I’ve seen you do, like, six lines one after another. You can’t just lecture me when you do the exact same thi-”

“That’s because I’m used to it, I can handle it.” Eddie interrupts, grabbing you by the chin gently. He’s looking at you right in the eyes, wanting to drive his point home, but all you can focus on is his lips. “You could barely handle a shot of whiskey before and now you’re drinking and doing lines like you’ve done it all your life.”

You roll your eyes, although you understand what he’s trying to say.

“Eds, just leave me alone. I’m not going to die or somethin’. I’m just having fun.” You defend yourself, but the hiccups in-between your words do absolutely nothing to convince the man in front of you.

In fact, something flashes in his eyes. It’s a look you see rarely, but one you recognize as the look he gets when he sets his mind to something. You don’t get to dwell too much on it, because he’s crouching and picking you up, and before you know it, you’re thrown over his shoulder with such ease it makes something at the bottom of your stomach flutter.

“Eddie, put me down, now! What are you doing!?” You protest and hit his back with your fists as hard as you can, waving your legs in the air. He doesn’t even flinch and instead places a hand on your calf and squeezes, a gesture you can only interpret as “calm the fuck down” - and something in you listens, despite the drugs and liquors in your system screaming at you to keep acting bratty.

You vaguely recognize Warren’s wolf-whistling at the pair of you, but you don’t pay him any attention - by the time he’s asked for your room key at the reception desk in that deep voice that drives you crazy and you’re in the luxurious elevator, you’re already half-asleep but still have enough leftover energy to complain.

"Can you put me down now? You’ve proved your point.”

In response, Eddie’s hand moves higher up your leg, slipping underneath your dress. You can feel yourself blushing as he starts drawing circles on your inner thigh.

“Hm, I really don’t think I have, sweetheart.” He tells you and you want to strangle him for knowing exactly what buttons to push to make you speechless.

The rest of the elevator ride is spent in torturous silence, as he absentmindedly drags his fingers across your skin and you stubbornly hold in your whimpers and gasps, because you’d rather die on the spot than have him know how sensitive his touch makes you.

Only he can make me feel like this, you think to yourself in a striking moment of clarity.

After what feels like an eternity, you finally arrive at your floor. Eddie confidently walks towards your room and opens it - as soon as the door closes, he strides over to the bed and gently drops you onto it. You’re looking at the ceiling, thinking about nothing and everything at the same time, as he removes your heels. When he stands up and kisses your forehead, ready to leave so you could get some sleep, you grab him by the collar.

Sleep is the last thing on your mind right now.

You kiss him hard, and he responds immediately - you feel his heart thumping when your chests press against each other, and you’re pretty sure he can feel yours too. He moans into your mouth when you tug on his hair and you feel like you’re on the brink of getting what you want - except, he pulls away from you. You look at him, confused, and when you reach out to try and bring his face towards you, he grabs your wrists in one hand.

“You’re drunk, sweetheart. We can’t.” He explains and you want to cry. Why did he have to be so thoughtful?

“But I want you.” You try and he just smiles at you, wide and toothy, as he stands up. You catch his hand. “Can you…can you at least sleep next to me? We don’t have to do anything, I just..."

He turns to look at you and you see surprise painted across his features. You open your mouth to take it back, tell him you don’t know what you’re talking about, play it off as the drugs talking, but he’s already dropping his jacket on the ground and getting into bed with you before you get the chance to say anything.

He opens his arms, inviting you to come closer and you gladly take the invitation.

"You're cold." You tell him when you lay your head on his chest and feel him wrapping his arms around you. He smells like cigarettes and citrus. It’s your favorite smell in the world.

“You’re hot.” He responds, grinning as he kisses the top of your head, and you giggle.

It’s the last thing you remember before you fall asleep.

—

You wake up horny. Not unusual by any means, considering you fell asleep horny and next to Eddie. Still, you know you can't ignore it for long.

As your eyes adjust to the sunlight pouring in through the windows, you feel Eddie, still asleep, wrapping a long arm around your waist and pulling you towards his chest. His gentle hums do nothing except fuel the growing need in you to have him. You decide to do just that.

Careful not to wake him, you slowly move down his body and when you reach the part you're craving the most, you greedily undo his belt like you're opening a Christmas present. You pull his jeans and boxers down at the same time, impatient, and immediately get to work.

You run your tongue from the tip to the base, savoring the shiver you receive in response. You do that a couple of times but as soon as you take him in your mouth, Eddie gasps and you know you've woken him up, because you feel a hand in your hair.

"Shit, baby, good mornin' to you too." He laughs and the rasp in his voice makes you throb.

You take him in deeper, tracing the vein in his shaft with your tongue and Eddie practically howls. Biting his lip, he buries his other hand in your hair too as the sounds of your gagging and his moaning overlap.

"I love this fucking mouth on my cock." He breathes out. "God, I can't get enough of you. Come 'ere."

You shake your head as you press open-mouthed kisses down the shaft.

"No, I want you to cum in my mouth." You declare stubbornly and he swears out loud at your words.

"I'll cum in that pretty little mouth as much as you want me to, but I need to be inside of you right now, baby, please." He almost begs and you look at him beneath your eyelashes.

He's panting heavily, his bottom lip slightly bloody because he bit it too hard, brown eyes glazed over and hair splayed out on the pillow beneath his head like a halo. He looks like a mess and it's the prettiest thing you've ever seen.

Well, how can you say no to that?

You crawl towards him and he grabs the dress you've slept in from yesterday and pushes it up your body, hastily trying to remove it. You help him and soon, the dress is a mere clothing item on the floor. Left in only your underwear, he licks his lips as his eyes look you over. If it was anyone else, you would have felt like a piece of meat being ogled at, but his look only turns you on even more.

You tug on his shirt, wanting it off, and he complies immediately.

As you climb into his lap and undo your bra, Eddie watches, mesmerized, when you start grinding on his cock like a woman starved, your tits bouncing along with every movement. In an attempt to tease him, you reach out to play with your nipples, but he smacks your hands away, shoves his face in your chest and starts worshiping your tits with such vigor you think you can cum from this alone.

"Eddie! Oh!" You mewl and he groans in response, tugging your underwear down your thighs. He rubs a finger against your folds and your head gently knocks against his when his finger glides right inside of you.

"So fuckin' warm and tight and all for me. Only for me." Eddie whispers, kissing your neck. You nod, burying your fingers in his tangled hair.

"Only for you. Always for you." You whisper in his ear and he exhales sharply, relieved, like he's being told something he never once thought would be true.

You don't even notice when one finger has become two, and two has become three in your haze of pleasure until Eddie pushes you down onto the bed, looking at you like you've hung the moon and stars. You smile at him and pull his face down to kiss him, and you can feel him chuckling against your lips. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you melt in his embrace. In response, Eddie grabs your hips, something you've noticed he really likes doing, and carefully enters you. You open your mouth in a silent scream, and he groans loudly, squeezing you so hard you're sure he'll give you yet another pair of bruises. You don't mind though, not at all.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

"Very much am, Roundtree."

---

"What did you just say?"

Warren laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"Look man, I don't fuckin' know, all I'm saying is that I saw them leaving together."

It's quiet in the breakfast hall as Billy ponders on what to do.

"I get that she's our little sister, but she's grown up now. Even if she is, y'know, sleeping with him, why should that matter? I mean, it's Eddie, do you really think he'd do anything to hurt her?" Graham argues, gesturing with the utensils in his hands as he speaks.

Daisy and Karen nod in agreement.

"He's got a point, you know. I really don't think it's that big of a deal. They've had the hots for each other for a while now, too, it's only natural." Karen adds and Billy's mouth turns into a tight line as he death glares the uneaten toast on his plate.

"Good morning everyone!" Eddie greets his band members when you and him enter, suspiciously cheerful. Billy's glare only becomes more hateful.

"Morning." He greets with gritted teeth, carefully observing the way Eddie gallantly pulls out your chair first, before sitting on his own. Everyone else around him also seems to notice, if Daisy and Karen's quiet giggles and Warren and Graham clearing their throats were any indication.

"Aren't you going to get breakfast?" Graham questions and you smile innocently back at him.

"Nope, I've already eaten." You respond and Eddie adds a "I'm very full, actually."

Awkward silence descends on the table for a moment before Roy arrives as well.

"Hey, Roundtree." He starts, an accusatory finger pointed at the bassist's neck. "What kind of vampire were you fooling around with? Jesus Christ, son, look at the size of that thing."

A beat passes as Graham chokes on his water.

"Roundtree, you fucking son of a bitch, I'll kill you."

---

BILLY DUNNE: The prick was fucking my sister behind my back. Of course I decked him.

KAREN SIRKO: And people call women the emotional ones.

WARREN ROJAS: Dude, I thought I was hallucinating, for real.

DAISY JONES: So overdramatic.

GRAHAM DUNNE: [sighs]

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Worth it. [smiles]

[redvexillum]

Here me out. Vox working on wiring some new monitors and getting tangled in the wires. His lovely little assistant finds her boss stuck, wires pulling his shirt a bit up and... well... Vox is pissy becasue he's being seen stuck but he needs help. And the more he tries to wiggle out of the wires, the tighter they get and oh my, does he like that?

🦊- just a random fox passing through, nothing to see here. Def Not Kit.

Dearest Kit or Def Not Kit, I've been going feral over Vox x Reader and I have no one to blame but you for making me fall deeper in love with the flat screen TV-head demon. Your request has been living rent free in my head since the day I saw your devilish prompt sitting sexily in my inbox. Kit or Def Not Kit. Do you see my request list on my front page? Do you see how long it is? I say this with utmost love and respect for you, but damn you for making me possessed and open my word document at 1 in the morning as the story gets longer and longer. XOXO, RedVexi 💋

SUMMARY: Your boss is a class-A hole, and you had envisioned tormenting him for all the overtime he was forcing you to work. Truly, he was ensuring that your time in Hell was...Hell. Perhaps it was you burning out, but you had a very vivid, steamy dream of your boss.

...At least, you were pretty sure it was a dream.

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, assistant!reader, dom/sub undertone, sub!Vox, dom!reader, hating your boss to confused h*rny, reader has vivid s*xual imagination, reader is extremely sleep deprived and is so done with Vox's shenanigans, Vox is sort-of a jerk, fluff if you squint

At first, the letters on your document seemed to shift ever so slightly, causing you to misread some of the words. You squinted, trying to focus on each letter, but it was no use. The words began to dance and twist, performing their own chaotic ballet at an infuriatingly quick tempo. Your head spun, the floor beneath you tilted slightly at an angle, and a sharp pain pierced behind your eyes.  

“Ah, fuck,” you muttered, pressing your hand against the middle of your throbbing forehead in a futile attempt to alleviate the discomfort. You took a deep, fortifying breath and reached for your energy drink, downing the sickly sweet liquid that had become your elixir of life. You had lost count after the tenth can, and the end of your workload seemed to grow every time you checked your to-do list.  

Everyone else had long since left the office, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence of mandatory overtime, working under the relentless demands of the most unreasonable, Hell-worthy, boss.  

The weight of exhaustion pressed down on you, the muscles in your back and neck ached, and your mind screamed for a moment of reprieve. The flickering fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glare on the endless sea of paperwork before you. Each page mocked your efforts, sadistically laughing at you to try to make sense of the cryptic mess of letters and numbers that the previous assistant had left behind.  

As you took another swig of the energy drink, the taste no longer registered, your tongue felt tingly yet numb. It was just a means to an end, a way to keep pushing forward despite the shroud of fatigue threatening to take away your sight.  

“Just a few more hours,” you whispered to yourself, a mantra of survival in the face of exhaustion. The words offered no comfort, but they were all you had now. Taking another deep breath, you picked up one of the many documents littered across your desk. One look and a wave of frustration crashed into you. What was the previous assistant even trying to achieve? 

Nothing made sense.  

Groaning, you leaned back in your chair, letting your head fall back as you squeezed your eyes shut. How many days had it been since you’d had a full night’s sleep? You’d thought being a personal assistant to the CEO of VoxTek – an Overlord of Hell – would pave your path with literal gold.  

Instead, you were wading through a relentless tide of paperwork, guzzling obscene amounts of energy drinks, and simmering in a pit of sexual frustration. Seriously, when was the last time you got laid? Every single one of your partners had left you, fed up with being forever second to your work.  

This morning, your girlfriend – ah, ex-girlfriend now – had screamed at you to choose between her and your job. Before you could respond, your Vwatch buzzed, reminding you it was time to pick up your boss’ dry cleaning.  

With an apologetic smile, you gave her a quick peck on the cheek and pleaded to postpone the conversation until after work. The last thing you heard before you closed the door was her muttering: “Go fuck yourself.” 

And…fuck yourself indeed because the moment you sat at your desk to slog through another hellish day of ungodly work hours, your phone vibrated with her text message. Her final text message telling you that she was leaving you.  

Sighing deeply, the weight of her words pressed down on you. It was a reminder that you were sacrificing everything for your job once again.  

Slowly, you opened your eyes, the fluorescent lights blinded you temporarily. You had died like this – overworked to death for a massive corporation when you were alive. Was this truly your fate, to repeat your human life in Hell?  

Could you find happiness even in this damned place? 

Your shoulders jolted up, and you scrambled to sit upright as you heard the loud crackle of electricity echoing inside the empty room. The demon responsible for your lack of sleep and failing relationships boldly strolled through your office the moment he materialized out from the security camera.  

The prick, a.k.a. your boss.  

“There you are!” Your boss, with all the glory of a cheap flat-screen TV for a head, loomed over you. With a click of his tongue, he narrowed his red digital eyes. “I asked you to bring me the reports thirty seconds ago!” he pointed at your Vwatch, the manacle chaining you to the company, to him.  

You felt your left eye twitch once, twice.  

Thirty fucking seconds.  

Was this for real? Was he seriously pissed off because you didn’t run to his fucking safety hazard of an office within thirty seconds?  

The rage simmered beneath your exhaustion, a boiling, whistling kettle ready to blow its top. The audacity of this bitch-ass baby, to demand so much for so little recognition. Every muscle in your body begged for rest, for a break from the relentless grind that had followed you from the mortal world to damnation.  

Lord, you hated him. Never mind that he could have picked up the fucking report himself.  He literally had the power to teleport anywhere in the building through the security cameras, which were everywhere.  

A sudden, intrusive thought barged its way through your mind. This was your moment. Your moment to finally release the manacle that had been wrapped around your right wrist for the past nine and a half years. A moment to throw this cheaply made watch at his equally tacky flat-screened face.  

Your left fingers twitched, but you remained still, sitting in the chair with your head bowed.  

Were you being too rash?  

Yes. You were.  

You weren’t thinking clearly, overworked and burnt out as you were. 

You couldn't quit even if you wanted to...at least not right now.

The muscles in your eyes continued to twitch as your ears slowly honed in on the sound of Vox throwing a bitch-fit, comparing you to his last assistant, who was “so” much better. He made sure to stress the word “so,” emphasizing your supposed lack of drive, productivity, and quality of work.  

You weren’t really listening to his words. His voice melded seamlessly with the whirring of the computer fans, a droning background noise to your mounting frustration. Each of his cutting remarks sliced through the restraint that held your volatile anger at bay.  

Vox could leave now that he had his report, but he chose to belittle you instead. Your gaze flickered to your wrist, to the cursed device that had dictated the course of your life. You were sure that if you threw this watch at his face, the look of shock glitching across the screen would be quite hilarious.  

“Are you even listening?” he snapped, his voice pulling you back from the haze of your addicting, intrusive thoughts.  

Your eyes flicked back up, meeting the static-filled screen that served as his face. “Yes, sir,” you lied, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.  

“God, I’m surrounded by imbeciles, you and Val–” Vox continued to rant out into the vast empty office that only housed the two of you.  

Couldn’t he see that everyone else had already left? Couldn’t he appreciate that you were still working after hours every single day for almost a fucking decade just to meet his unreasonable expectations? 

Jaws clenching, you continued to hold back your frustration and ire by the skin of your teeth. Couldn’t he just let you catch a single break? For fuck’s sake, you had just gone through a breakup because, once again, you had chosen work – chosen him – instead of your girlfriend, instead of your happiness.  

The desire to pull on his gaudy red bow tie tight, making sure he felt the constriction around his throat, was overwhelming. You imagined pushing him onto your desk, straddling him. You would make sure to crinkle all his precious reports for good measure too.  

Your gaze landed on the way the light reflected off the flat screen of his face. You would smack him, open-handed, just like you used to do with your grandpa’s old television when it fritzed out.  

You remembered your grandpa’s words: You only need one good smack to get it working right again, dear.  

Maybe all Vox needed was that one good smack to be fucking humble for once. Then your eyes dropped to the front of his pants. He was such a massive dick, probably compensating for the size of his package.  

How you wanted to strangle his limp, tiny dick, to see him helpless and subdued. Maybe you could wrap his dick with the goddamn cables you always tripped over whenever you visit his office.  

A smirk lifted your lips as you envisioned the scene. Vox, strung up by his pathetic, limp dick, his eyes wide with fear and humiliation. He would cry and whine, begging you to stop, but you wouldn’t. After all, this had been a long time coming, a deserved retribution for all the bullshit and verbal abuse he had hurled your way.  

“— and don’t get me started on the fact that you look like a hot mess! Don’t you know that VoxTek has an image to uphold–” 

You imagined forcing him to fold over your desk. You’d make him take his cock into his mouth, the humiliating act of self-servitude making him gag. With one hand, you’d grip the edge of his head, shoving his face down further, and with the other, you’d ram a thick, fat dildo into his tight, unused ass.  

His pathetic whimpers would be muffled by the growing hardness in his mouth, a pitiful noise that only drove your desire to dominate him completely.  

You’d thrust into him relentlessly, the dildo filling him over and over. The tight ring of his ass would pucker up, trying to grip the dildo, to keep it shoved up all the way in his ass. Each thrust would be a punishment, a reminder of every insult and degrading comment he had thrown at you.  

“All I’m saying is, I expect better from you–” 

You would fuck him hard and fast with the toy, spurred on by his moans he would desperately want to hold back.  

Vox let out a sardonic laugh. “Then again, maybe that’s asking too much, expecting something incredibly simple from you–” 

You would thrust into him, again.  

“You had one job, and you can’t even–” 

Again.  

“Are you even trying–” 

And again, until you forced him to swallow his own pathetic release. The thought was intoxicating, having Vox submit completely to you. You could see it vividly: his face contorting with a mix of pain and unexpected pleasure. His eyes would squeeze shut, trying to stop the tears forming in his eyes. 

“Sorry, sir,” you blurted out, feeling the heat creeping up to your cheeks and below your gut. Holy shit, were you seriously just thinking of all that? Were you fantasizing about… 

Your boss. 

Your fucking boss.

Shit.  

You were more exhausted than you thought. Clearly, you were horny, tired, and caffeinated to the point of insanity to even entertain the idea of touching your fucking boss.  

Fuck, you desperately needed rest.  

Vox paused, his eyes widened giving you a glimpse of a myriad of emotions you couldn't recognize except one: vulnerability. But that didn't make sense because you meant so little to him – he gave two shits about you.

Before you could scrutinize further, he cleared his throat drawing you away from your circling thoughts. “Yes, well, I expect you to get the reports for the new project organized before tomorrow morning.” 

This time, it was your turn for your eyes to widen. “B-but, sir, th-that's going to take me all night!” You couldn’t stop the whine from spilling out.

His expression remained impassive, the flat screen of his face reflecting your frustration and fatigue back at you. “And?” he said, his tone cold and merciless. “That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” 

The weight of his words doused your initial flare of anger and was now replaced with perpetual exhaustion. Your body screamed for rest, for a break from this endless cycle of work. But as you looked at Vox, you knew there was no escape, at least not tonight.  

You would push through, as you always did, because, like an idiot you had signed a contract with him to work for Voxtek for the next ten years. You couldn't afford to break that contract, as it would be an automatic forfeiture of your soul.

Curling your fingers into a tight fists, you repeated the same words that acted as your only saving grace for the past two years. You counted down the time before you could finally be freed.

Six more months.

Six more months of working under your shitty boss until you could quit and never look back.

The thought of freedom was a fragile hope, barely enough to sustain you through the grinding monotony and constant humiliation. The tension in your body slowly eased as your fists unfurled, letting your hands hang limply by your sides.

Swallowing the bitter taste of frustration, you forced yourself to nod. "Yes, sir, I'll get it–"

Vox walked away before you could finish your sentence, disappearing with a flash of electricity through his security camera.  

Sighing, you looked at the pile of papers haphazardly covering your desk. The faint hum of the overhead lights and the whirring of computer fans were your only companions. You rubbed your temples, feeling the tension in your head intensify.  

You picked up a stack of papers, and your eyes caught sight of your cell phone peeking out from the mound of documents.  

It looked like you had another long night ahead of you.  

Not that it mattered.  

You had no one to come home to anyway.  

NEXT ->

💠 MASTERLIST 💠 © Fanart of Vox by@glitterypeachy

[gremlingottoosilly]

[If you need to be mean] chapter 5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Your date with a new guy isn't good for you. Konig is inclined to show you that. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in her early 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective TW for this chapter: Dub-con touching, stalking

You wake up with a throbbing headache and feeling of something dying in your throat. You roll from your bed, completely naked, like a baby deer on shaky legs doing its first steps. And about to die just like one also. 

König wakes up like he just won a million dollars and got promoted to KorTac CEO. He almost jumps from his bed – comfortable mattress, personal quarters, perks of being a colonel – and presses his hand on his bulge. Yeah, he has a bit of time to indulge in carnal pleasures. Especially when he can think of your trembling body. 

You found a glass of water and a pill – presumably Ibuprofen – on the table. Thank you, drunk me, you want to say – then the vague memories of last night come flooding in, and you run to the bathroom, emptying your already empty stomach once again. Pain won’t stop even after you drink a couple of pills and gulp the whole glass. 

König comes with a soft groan, thinking about your helpless body trapped under him, how your fragile form would bulge on the outline of his dick. Of course, he couldn’t do anything while you were drunk off your mind and barely awake, but he can fantasize about this – perfect morning pill for his depraved mind. 

You look at the clock – it’s 12 in the morning, you are already one and a half hours late for your day shift. You still don’t know what you were thinking while agreeing to cover for the time that won’t bring you more money but drain your energy instead, but you have already missed it. What is weird, however, is that your alarm didn't work – all five of them. And that your work didn’t called either, despite knowing that manager would be fucking mental over missing a day shift. 

König looks at the clock – it’s 5 in the morning and he wakes up a bit earlier than a man of his rank can. One thing about being a commander is that his captains would usually do the drill job for him – he only has to read through various mission reports and see if everything is alright with supplies. Giving orders is one of his least favorite things, but at least he can have another half an hour before turning into a personal devil for his men. 

You don’t even bother to eat – nothing will stay in your stomach anyway. Nothing feels right as you struggle to put on your clothes – your closet looks like it was ravaged by a pack of burglars. Either you went completely wild while searching for a pair of panties at night or…yeah, it probably what happened. You can’t find your nice pairs, so you assume they were lost somewhere in the chaos of your room – honestly, you can’t even bother to search for the ones you were wearing yesterday, assuming they just got lost. 

König plays with the soft fabric of your panties in his pocket, remembering how good it was looking at you – delicate laces feel incredible in his rough, calloused hands, and he can only imagine how sweet your scent would be once he would press it on his face and masturbate. Too exhausted to do it yesterday, he thinks about breaking into your apartment, maybe getting something new – your locks are shitty, perfect for someone like him to get in and steal your adorable sleeping self.

You think about getting something for your aching, empty stomach – maybe a soup or takeout. Your stomach can’t take it right now, but you now that staying empty would only make it worse – then you take one look at the contents of your wallet, that one hundred dollars bill already went to currency exchange and the rent debt – and, well, maybe you can use one day of, how do they say it, controlled hunger. Maybe you’ll get more tips this evening, if you could convince your manager to give you another shift, and you could buy some good snacks on top of your usual bottom-of-the-barrel groceries. König gets breakfast among his fellow officers, a few good mornings and deadly stares at anyone who asks what he was doing last night and what got him returning to base so late. He would just eat in his room like always, but Hutch asked for a personal report on the last mission and he enjoys talking to someone who is almost as nerdy about embarrassingly many stuff as he is – at their grown-up age also. He would look at his tech expert through his mask and would nod to every little bit of intel they got about the terrorists they were fighting for, three weeks of doing nothing but draining government money only to start covering one cell after another almost every day. 

You gag when you think about meeting Tomas at the cafe again – he usually covers daytime shifts, he would definitely be there, oh god, what if he would tell someone about this, what if he really did something to you and you just don’t remember it, what if…he is gone. Dead or missing or whatever, you remember how easily the words slipped from König’s tongue and you ran away to the toilet again, with nothing left in your stomach to vomit – you still cough and gag at the thought. Your memories are weird, shady, maybe it was just a part of the alcohol-fueled dream, but you think about the colonel being here, holding you, undressing you and touching you in all the weird places while taking care of your helpless body and you don’t know what to think. 

König wants to pay you a visit, to make sure that his favorite girl is okay and has everything she needs – he remembers your apartment. Shitty, tiny place, not even a proper bed for you to sleep, only a couch with some cushions thrown over it. He would help you with furniture, maybe even buy and haul something to your place – but it would be much better just to buy you and him a new home entirely. Maybe he’d allow you to choose something small, like a color of curtains or the fabric pattern for your new carpet. You would need something to do once the marriage is sealed, he doesn’t want his little wife to get bored. He wants you to feel complete with you, but he can’t even go to your place right now because too much work is out there, on the base. 

You stare at the sign “Sorry, we’re temporarily closed” at the cafe’s door and stand here, dumbfounded, for a good few minutes. People look at your expression, bags under your eyes – you look like a zombie, maybe you should have putted some makeup just to look less haunted – as you just stand here, thinking what the actual fuck is going on. You try to call your manager, but he ignores your calls – and when he finally answers, you get nothing but angry yells and pleads to never fucking return. 

König thinks about how easy it was to just get your place to close – possible terrorists hiding, a few of his boys going dark at night and scaring the shit out of your manager and whoever was working at that time. He didn’t want it to come to this, you need something to busy yourself with while he’s working – your job is shitty, yes, but he would allow you to work here for a week or so before coercing you into depending on him completely. His wife is a silly little creature who needs some silly little tasks to do – being a waitress works just fine. He could just pay you to allow him between your legs, but you are not some prostitute, you’re his adorable new love, and he would do whatever it takes to prove that he is serious about being with you. He didn’t want it to come to this, but he can’t let you stay at the place where your coworkers can just assault you. Would be nice to just put you into a basement or his room – get you a comfortable collar or tie up your arms and legs so you’d be completely helpless and at his mercy. 

You choke on your tears as you understand that you just lost your job. There aren't many other opportunities in this town, not with terrorist threats and possible dangers left and right, not with how many businesses started catering towards constant military presence. You can’t work like this, soldiers scare you – and their colonel is the worst, scaring you even while saving you from Tomas. You don’t have enough money to just not work for a couple of weeks, and you’re already in debt for your apartment. It feels like your life is crumbling apart in just a week. It feels like you know who is to blame. 

König attents training of the new recruits – some of them did well at the latest mission and he finally starts to see the hope in these soldiers. If they would manage to drive the terrorists away in a few months, he’d get home before Chrtistmas – and would get a nice wifey on top of that. It feels like his life has finally started coming together. He got what he deserved all of this time, with all the years of hard work and relentless committing of war crimes he did in favor of becoming a colonel. 

***

You are counting all of your savings and, yes, you don’t have enough to last even a week without a job that would preferably pay you daily. There isn’t many coffee shops around your town, especially now, when people are too afraid of getting their business blown up or run over for military means – you literally saw a nice bar completely change to cater for soldier’s needs like they intend to be here for long – and you don’t want to have anything to do with the military. If you wanted to get your ass smacked by some entitled assholes who think that if they chose army instead of college, everyone should kiss their boots, you would just call König. 

But, you don’t know his number. 

But, you don’t even remember what happened last night to the full extent – you remember him touching your body, you can presume that he undressed and helped you with getting on the couch, but he never asked for permission to enter your apartment. It’s too big of a coincidence that he was just right in that alley to help you get away from Tomas. Soldiers usually go on their patrols or whatever, but he is a colonel, you don’t think that people like him can just take a stroll here and there, especially at night. Shouldn’t he fight terrorists? 

You try to call some of the coworkers who worked here, with you – and they all politely asked you to go to hell and forget their numbers until you would get your crazy soldier date in place. They were also kind enough to ask for how much you selled your body to the, quote, “Fucking mercenaries who would fuck our country over some money and you are selling yourself to them like a prostitute even if they can just pack their stuff and leave the next months if terrorists are dealed with”. 

They weren’t kind enough to listen to your futile attempts of explaining yourself. Situation isn’t even out of control – it never was under it in the first place, you don’t even know what could happened to the cafe in that 10 hours of sleep that you got, and you are even more helpless when you think about the reputation you got for just hanging out with König for like…a few hours at most? Yes, you spoke to your fellow waiters about him – mostly because they were very interested about the tip he left you, you talked to your friends about a creepy, but cute guy who was talking to you, your family – how you get out after breaking the curfew without getting into the police department for it. 

Almost funny, now one and a half interactions can ruin your life so easily – not just your work, not just the relationships with your coworkers, but everything as a whole. You are still shaking from what happened last night, the understanding that Tomas might be dead, but now it only indicates that König can literally do what he wants. Kind in his very own kingdom. You want to vomit, but that would only hurt you even more, and you don’t have time to rest or be physically unwell. 

He promised you a job, you remember. Working with the military, being their guide to the city. Having connection to many people in this place, maybe you could even help in pointing at the possible threats without looking suspicious – but then again, you would just sell yourself to soldiers who couldn’t care less about your life or the life of your town. They are not some good-hearted UN intervention, they are a bunch of mercenaries who get paid by the president to help with the threats that he himself has fed and raised here. You think about helping them – then you think about how it would only make it worse for you. 

You think about how this man looked at you – how his hands were trembling when he put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed it softly. You can at least hear him out – the worst that could happen is that he says no and you die from hunger, right? 

*** Horangi loves his job. He isn’t at home, which means the debt collector wouldn’t get to him, he has a place in this world, and a shiny new sergeant badge that could very easily become the lieutenant one if he would succeed with this mission and a hard task of deciphering what his colonel might want. König is a great man except for all the times he isn’t, and a perfect soldier – except for all the bloodbath he is causing every time this man is too caught up in his thoughts. He doesn’t talk much, don’t ask him about his past, and the other teammates are great too – it’s not the army where basically no one wanted to serve, it’s a PMC where everyone has their place. Some for the money, some for the honor…and money – but they all know what they are doing. 

Main problem is boredom. 

When you are a soldier deployed in a small country to hide the terrorists, you think that it would be fun. Blood, slaughter, fighting, beautiful ladies and gentlemens jumping on you because you just look so good in uniform. What he didn’t except, however, was how boring it would be, just sitting on the base in the outskirts of the city, listening to his teammates going crazy from having nothing to do, and increasing the violence counters on the missions because they need something to do. 

He would do anything for something to do. 

This is when he exited the main entrance of their base and saw his colonel’s sweetheart. 

Just to be frank – he does not care that his commander, 6 '10 wall of muscles and anxiety, got a little civilian girlfriend. He could have a whole harem of locals and it would only indicate how manly and cool König is. All of his temamates and subordinates would be happy to know that their leader does fuck and has a way of releasing his pent-up frustration not just on the field and very unlucky rookies. He does not have a problem with knowing that, even if his romantic life is long dead and buried among his debts, while an Austrian has no problem getting laid even if the last time he spoke to a person willingly was three months ago. 

Horangi does, however, have a problem with his colonel’s sweetheart because he sees that you are not really responding to his feelings. Would be much easier if you were an easily-swayed somewhat promiscuous little thing that would hapilly jump into his arms and open your legs for whatever fucked-up trauma the man has. 

Horangi does, however, have a problem with his colonel being fucking delusional and stalking a random girl. Not because stalking is bad or whatever, god knows, König deserves some love and if the way he expresses it is enough to be a crime, then so be it – but you are not answering his delusions and this is a problem. He would not deal with his commander being frustrated, blue-balled or unsatisfied – he still wants to live and wants the team to thrive. So, when he sees your face – you really are adorable, commander has a good taste in civilians – looking all anxious and devastated and sad, like a kitten that got run over by a military truck, he does a bee-line right to the blockpost in front of the base. 

— Got a problem, ma’am? 

— I…I just need to talk to König, he was…um, he knows who I am. We talked before.

God, he hates talking to civilians. But you look devastated and the guard at the entrance – sergeant, just like him – told him that this stupid thing just tried to ask for a colonel, like he is a call girl. Guy didn’t get the memo about König’s little fling, as he sees, so Horangi can’t really blame him for being too harsh with you – he also knows that commander would fucking murder him if he won’t know about his love asking for him, and he also knows that even if your thick skull finally admitted to his advances, he need to capture the moment before you ran away. 

— Colonel asked for her. Let her proceed. 

— But…

— Colonel’s orders. You don’t want to be here if he knows that we didn’t let her through. 

You look at the man with shock in your eyes – of course, you have no idea who he is and why he is behaving so warmly. He wears a mask and full armor just like König, but even with him, you at least see his face. The man with a South Korean badge on his chest conceals his gaze with dark sunglasses and tugs on your wrist rather roughly, showing you inside of the building. You would feel scared, but all the anxiety already got to the point of numbness, and the only thing you can feel is slight dread as you proceed deeper in the building. 

You sigh as he drags you with thim, other soldiers looking at you with curiosity in their eyes as you blush. You don’t even know if König would appreciate you coming here, being so needy with him after he saved you and ran – maybe he doesn’t feel anything to you anymore, maybe you are too weak for him, too helpless and fragile, maybe…but then again, his soldier was quite confident in allowing you inside. Military bases are usually a highly secured place, guards at the entrance didn’t even allow you to come here until he came along – making you question what exactly he knows about you. 

König sits in his office, frustrated as he is reading through reports of the intel – Hutch is a great computer expert, he would give the man a medal already if they were in the official military, but they once again don’t have a lead on the terrorists. Too many people covering them, too many groups spread out across the town and even the country – if they won’t make a move first, it could take months of searching for their hide-out. They are soldiers, not detectives – they don’t have enough intelligence agents to infiltrate them from the sideways. More cynical part of his brain tells him to just wait it out, for their next move – maybe a bomb in the public place, maybe a hijacked plane with russian scriptures written all over it. 

They are not here to protect citizens of this country – just to get money and kill terrorists. A few casualties are bound to happen but, oh well, you can’t build a house without killing a bunch of squirrels, right? 

Then he sees you – adorable, helpless, cute, perfect, pretty, absolutely stunning in your oversized hoodie and some old jeans that make his pants tighter. How could anyone be so freaking breath-taking while wearing nothing but some lazy day clothes and messy hair? Even the bags under your eyes are not only making him worry for the quality of your sleep, but also makes him want to protect you even more – he bet you would sleep much better after an intense session with him.

Horangi pushes you into the office and you stumble on your feet, tears already filling your eyes. König steps from his table, not even caring about the documents – they are confidential, so he just pushes it deeper in his desk and smiles under his hood. Horangi just promoted himself in his eyes – god, he has to keep tabs on good soldiers, he might need it in the upcoming operations. 

You look perfect like this – crying, stuttering, whispering something about how scared you were, how terrified after he saved you. But you shouldn’t be like this! Yes, a fair amount of fear is normal, he wants a nice, obedient little wife who would greet him with open legs and smile on your lips as he returns home from deployment, but he isn’t abusive. He won’t treat you like a scumbag, like many of his fellow soldiers are – you are a delicate little creature that needs to be protected, cherished, like a treasure you are. 

But why are you so afraid? You should have thanked him for saving you, fallen on your knees and greeted him properly. Not crying – even though your desperate face is just as adorable, he doesn't want to have a reputation of making women cry in his office. Recruits are already afraid of him. 

— What are you doing here, Mein Schatz? I thought you’d be at home. 

— I…

How can you even start talking about this? You need help? You are not sure if you can keep your apartment if you don't have a job in the next 12 hours? Your life just came crumbling apart in just one night and you don’t know what to do besides hoping that he would accept you as his guide or whatever, hoping that he won’t ask for something else, worse? 

How can he even contain himself when you are biting your lips, cheeks flushed, hands folding your hoodie and you can’t even look at him directly? He is an anxious, nervous man, he doesn’t know what to say half of the time, he is sometimes too scared of saying something that might upset you, but even he feels strong next to you. How you can’t even find your words, forcing him to beckon you closer, as you make a few steps towards him. 

— I lost my job. 

Of course you did. He sent a whole small strike group to check the place for terrorists and find out that your manager, in fact, had a huge document problem – local police thanked them for this, while he couldn’t care less for another abusive asshole getting out of your way. You said that you can’t spend your time on helping him because of your job – so now, when you don’t have to cater to clients, you can finally cater to him. 

— Ja, I know. 

— You…you are? 

— You have free time now. 

It’s so simple – and your face twists in fear when you understand that he really was behind your cafe getting closed. That he saved you from danger while being the one itself – you take a step back, falling almost, this dumb, clumsy part of your body makes you stumble on the clean floor when König covers the distance between you in a second, dragging you closer to him. Sitting on the chair while putting your limp body on his lap, finally enjoying the sensation he craved the most. 

You can’t move from fear – but he soothes you softly, hands on your waist and head buried in the crook of your neck. if you had any doubts about whether he still likes you or not, you don’t have it anymore. — I…I need a job, sir. You asked if I could be your guide and…

They already found enough willing participants who are okay with helping mercenaries. They don’t need more civilians because it can endanger the operation – people tend to run their mouths loose, they are already risking by trusting even one civilian consultant. 

However, he has another job for someone as cute as you. 

— We don’t need a guide anymore. 

— You don’t? I…I’m sorry for wasting your time, sir, I will go as…

He pushes you deeper into his body, hands already roaming under your loose hoodie and fondling your skin. You are shaking in his grasp, tears streaming down your face as you go through your short breakdown. König knows how to break people – he didn’t want to do this with you, but he hates himself enough to understand that not a lot of people would be with him willingly. 

— We might get to know each other closer. 

You cry in his shirt, grasping on the dark fabric as you whimper – finally letting go of your emotions ever since the night. It feels like you were holding those tears your whole life – and he gently pats your back and plays with the lining of your bra under your clothes, making you shudder. 

— I’m not…not like this. Sorry. 

— I know you’re not like this, Meine Liebe. But I don’t want my dear girlfriend to waste her energy on some cafe. 

— Girlfriend? I’m not sure what we are talking about, sir. 

— Am I moving too fast? 

— Yes. 

— Good. Not sure how much time I have in this country. 

He moves your head up, gently handing your face so he can smother your lips with a hungry, devouring kiss. He is desperate, deranged, he bites on the softness of your mouth and smiles when you are trying to push him away. Your fight is meaningless and soon enough, your hands fall to your sides, not trying to resist anymore. 

— You’re scared, I know. But you don’t have to be. 

— I can’t be with you. 

— You can. I’ll protect you from everything, I will pay for whatever your little heart desires. 

— You don’t even know me. 

— Maybe. But we’ll spend time together, ja? 

— You’ll have to leave eventually. Not the…not the best relationships base. 

— I’ll take you with me. 

— And if I don’t want to? 

— I can get away with many things. You’ll like living in a big house. 

You are adorable like this – eyes big and watery, lips trembling as he proceeds to kiss you, hold your body close. He still needs to finish those documents and he can’t just have a normal civilian hanging around the base – he can have a spouse though. 

Thinking about you with a ring on your finger is too much for him. And you, feeling the way his enormous bulge is throbbing on your ass through his pants, shivering with dread. Anticipation too – even for just a little bit, 

— I still need a job. We don’t have many options here. 

— I’ll pay you for whatever you need. 

— What do you want in exchange? 

He licks his lips before kissing you again. You both know the answer – even if you are too afraid to say it, and he is too excited. 

— You. 

— I…can we take it slow? 

— But we’ll be together. 

You are scared of him. You don’t want to be with someone from the military, soldiers are scaring you, big muscular men are scaring you, his whole existence with this terrified hood and concealed face is scaring you – then you look at your life again. Think about empty pockets and constant living in fear of either poverty, someone else hurting you, or terrorist attack – and then you look at König. 

Money, power, influence. He promised to give you a big house, no? 

You could at least try. Not like you have many other options. 

— We…we will be. But with some boundaries, okay? 

He chuckles, slowly starting to kiss your neck. 

— Meine Liebe, do you really think you’re in position for this? 

— Please? 

— I’ll think about it. 

You squirm under him as he gently pushed you on his table and slowly starts lifting your hoodie.

---------------------------- TAG LIST @shigbby @honeeybeezzz @herefornanami-s-cake @pendalikespasta @lucylou302 @yxllowtxpe @sunbathed-sweetgrass @sarah-ardini @teenagegever2k22 @lastwordsofadyingstar @lavenderskye29 @karrotsforyou @inlovewithcodmen @onegami @keithehe @lilahbunny @ameneminimo @beepyboopbop @ms-munchkin @dinonacho @undeadgod @dizeesstuff @mingkiiii @midwesternwitchery @yxllowtxpe @flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund @keithehe @iytatsworld @r02eg0ld @cumikering @ysljoon @m1ndbrand @captain-heebie-jeebie @bluenredndeath @elichisstuff @milenko115

[nnnneeev]

(all) obey me characters with gn!mc who gets immersed in doing something that they forgot to eat their meal

Lucifer

"...good grief”

will constantly remind you to eat your meals. have you forgotten that you’re human?

gives you a stern lecture about the bad effects of skipping meals. i hope you learned your lesson now

if you still forget, he might just have to use his last resort..

that’s right, he’ll prepare you your meal himself. no you cannot reject it. he needs to witness you eating it with his own two eyes

Mammon

"what do you mean you forgot?”

a bit clueless but then he remembered that constantly skipping meals are bad for humans

what if you passed out from hunger??!

gives you cup noodles. well, it’s better than nothing!

you’re not allowed to complain. that’s all he's got right now. promises to treat you something better next time

Levi

"Well I haven’t eaten anything since morning.”

he knows the feeling. he’d also get immersed in gaming that he constantly loose track of the time

even though there’s snacks lying around his room..

maybe you can both share these rainbow pizza together?

cheers to the team ‘woops i forgot to eat again’

Satan

“Eating proper meals are vital for a human to survive.”

invites you to a cafe. you need to wind down for a bit and eat something

better late than eat nothing at all

suggests you to try the pomodoro method

makes you something to drink as well. it’s not much but aside from eating, you also need to stay hydrated

Asmo

"WHAT?! Oh no, hon. We’re going to hell’s kitchen RIGHT NOW!”

seriously? how could you forget? you’re not on a diet, are you?

nuh-uh. you’re not going to skip your meal. not on his watch

oh you often lose track of the time? how about he spoon feeds you instead? <3

skipping meals is bad for your skin, darling. make sure you don’t forget now, okay?

Beel

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

boy will make it his sworn duty to always remind you to eat

worries about you. he can’t even imagine what would it feel like to skip meals

will pick you up in your room every dinner time

he knows what you’re doing right now is important, but eating to replenish your strength is also important, y’know?

Belphie

“..is that so?”

will order something if you like. cooking is too bothersome

lets you do your own thing

but if you’re still constantly forgetting it, he’s gonna pull his youngest brother card on you

tries to catch your attention/clings on you like a koala. will not let you go until you come down to the dining hall with him

Diavolo

“Aren’t humans supposed to eat at least three times a day?”

ohhh so humans tend to forget something important like this, i see i see

Will ask barbatos to prepare you something. eat up!

proposes to do your works together. in that way, missing your meals would be impossible

reviews what the stuff you’re working on is all about (despite his tight schedule). maybe he can do something to lessen your workload

Barbatos

"Oh dear, that’s no good. You should take care of yourself more often.”

will cook for you, that’s a given

the food he made is nutritionally balanced; calculated to perfection to make up with the energy you lost

pairs it with tea. it will help you relax

keeps a mental note to himself about this habit of yours

Luke

"You should at least eat something, you know?!”

scolds you for not taking care of yourself

will deliver you cookies to snack on after you ate your meal

‘Solomon said that eating sugar gives you energy... so i prepared this for you!’

will also leave some cute motivational notes together with the sweets

Simeon

"You forgot...? I see. I’ll bring you something so stay put, okay?”

makes you his signature BLT sandwich

sandwiches are great snack when working on something that requires a lot of focus

he’s made sure to add extra servings of your favorite sides

leaves it on your table and will check on you from time to time 

Solomon

"Stay right there. I’ll whip something up for you real quick.” “Solomon, you really don’t have to...” “No, I insist. I promise you’re gonna like this.”

it’s a great opportunity for him to try this new and improved recipe of his

sorry it’s too late to stop him now. you’ll just have to prepare for the worst..

got too enthusiastic in cooking that he already blew the kitchen up three times

just.. ignore those explosions and focus on what you’re doing

Thirteen

"I have some leftovers here. Not sure if you’ll like it, but it’s still better than whatever that damned sorcerer has to offer”

your name’s not on the list so she’s not that worried that you’ll die from hunger

but you’re still human. aren’t you supposed to eat something at least?

there’s a shop that just opened recently. wanna go check it out? yea just forget whatever you were doing earlier. let’s have fun instead!

her treat since she’s the one who invited you to go with her

Raphael

"We have plenty of leftovers from last night. Solomon made it so I’m sure it tastes amazing.”

no? well, how about an apple?

will keep an eye on you from a distance

you were too focused that you didn’t even notice someone leaving snacks on your desk (or maybe it’s just because he’s too stealthy)

sometimes it’s a cupcake, oftentimes it’s an unidentified matter

Mephisto

“Are humans really this careless? Just what will Lord Diavolo say I let a human like you collapse from hunger?

mc think of what will happen to diavolo’s reputation if a human got sick because they’re not eating well

you’re not doing this on purpose, are you? ..no? are humans really like this?

brace yourself because you’re about to get the fanciest, most expensive-looking full-course meal you’ll ever get

prepared by his personal chef ofc. consider yourself lucky

[tired-biscuit]

stepdad!kirishima who’s so cuddly and sweet <33

fat breeding kink too ofc :p

18+ fem!reader // cw: stepcest, infidelity

oh, goodness; now i’m just imagining him taking you on little ‘daddy-daughter’ dates even if you’re over twenty and he’s nowhere near at being your real dad.

he wakes you up early in the morning, only mere minutes after your mom leaves for work, and tells you to get dressed so that you can start your day together by what he calls the ‘right’ way. breakfast awaits you when you finally sort yourself out and go trudging down the stairs, still so sleepy and with your mind terribly hazy from said slumber.

the second you enter the kitchen, kirishima works hard to impress you, the vast variety of exceptionally-prepared breakfast foods that sits on the kitchen counter makes that evidently clear for you. unlike yourself, he’s chatty and bubbly even if the hour is early; he’s just so nice. he talks to you with a subtle, albeit genuine, smile plastered on his handsome face as you indulge in the perfect little stack of pancakes he’s whipped up for you, and keeps grinning even as you finish drinking the homemade orange juice that he’s also prepared all by himself.

he’s definitely a morning person.

amongst other things.

wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you realize you’re not all that used to being alone in the house with another person, let alone him. back in the day, every morning used to be just you and your mom or just you whilst she was away at work, so this entire thing is just so new; the terrain is left untrekked. so it’s no wonder why your eyelids, despite the fact that they still feel so very heavy, blink profusely each time he establishes eye contact with you and keeps it there. why your pulse sort of speeds up when he leans in to take away your plate and utensils and you can smell just the faintest hint of his bodywash.

inhaling the slightly piney smell, you try not to pay any mind to either of those things because the thoughts to riddle you at the whiff of the scent are stupid anyway, they’re as silly as the girl he probably sees you as. but goddammit; as he turns away from you to face the sink so that he can quickly wash the dishes and leave them out to dry, his back muscles turn prominent underneath the thin white t-shirt he wears, and you can’t help but feel just the tiniest amount of jealousy for your own mother start to plague your mind.

after all, her new husband — your new stepdad, remember that — is just so dreamy. his shoulders are broad, his smile is big and kind. you already know how strong he is, you’ve seen him work out in the basement and come home all sweaty and buzzing with energy after the longest run you’d personally never be able to finish. the life that burns in his eyes makes him look so young, and when he leaves his hair down like this… good lord.

you try to push away the filth that continues to swirl in your head even as you finish up with breakfast and he leads you to his car. the drive is nice, he lets you pick the music and even compliments your taste. you try not to stare at him too much but you simply can’t resist a couple of glances here and there.

he’s a good driver, he knows his road manners well. the third time you look at him from the corner of your eye, he catches you but says nothing. instead, all he does is tap his fingers against the steering wheel in a way you’d almost call impatient. the corner of his mouth keeps kicking upwards. who knows what he’s thinking about.

when you arrive to your first destination, he takes you shopping and lets you buy whatever you want just so that he can make a good, hopefully lasting, impression on you that will make you like him even more than you secretly already do. he’s your new stepdad — your attractive, buff, so big that he could probably toss you over his shoulder with absolutely no trouble — stepdad. you’re still a bit wary around him; eyeing him from the side and acting so adorably bashful as you ask him if it’s all right to buy a new skirt you particularly like.

and oddly enough, he tells you that he likes it as well.

you spend the entire day together by going out and about in the city, not just the mall. he buys you both ice cream and doesn’t mind at all when you ask if you can try the flavour he picked, too. with each hour that you pass in each other’s company, you grow closer. you realize that you get along super well, but it doesn’t come as a surprise because he truly is a people kind of person. so charming.

by the time it gets dark out, he drags you to a diner that’s situated close to the highway that will otherwise take you to your new home. it’s almost along the way, he reassures you. the food is so good apparently — him and his best friend bakugou always grab a bite there. you believe him, of course.

the place is nearly deserted, it’s a monday evening and he’s only off work because he made arrangements specifically to spend it with you, but the food indeed is insanely good; just like he’d promised. you keep chatting as you eat in your secluded booth, still having so many subjects to cover; you never seem to run out of them when you’re with him. he listens intently to whatever you have to say, about how it feels somewhat bitter-sweet that you’ll be finishing your last year of college soon, how you’ll miss your roommates, how you need to start job hunting soon.

his foot keeps bumping against your own underneath the table as you talk, talk, talk, and you try to pretend that the — probably accidental — touch doesn’t faze you, but the icy coke you drink certainly becomes extremely helpful when it comes to cooling down the heat that kindles within you all of a sudden. the ice melts on the flat of your tongue so fast.

what it doesn’t help you with, however, is when it comes to enduring the burn of the stretch that his cock provokes inside your pussy the moment he persuades you to join him in the backseat of his car as soon as you exit the diner. but it’s not like it took much persuading to begin with.

the parking lot is abandoned, dark, sketchy. there are no people nearby besides you and him, but there are shadows that twist and dance all over the concrete. it’s nothing like the radiant, sweet man, who you now clumsily exchange kisses with as a means to quiet down the moan that bubbles up your throat as soon as you start to rock your hips against his own whilst sitting on his lap.

his hands are rough to the touch, calloused from years of hard work, as he grabs handfuls of your ass and pushes you further down so that you can at least try and take him entirely. his cock is as big as the rest of him is and once more you’re not surprised by it, even if you are baffled by the fact that he actually enabled you to learn that particular piece of information in the first place.

so yes, you’re fucking your new stepfather. he’s all deep groans and softly-whispered praises as he fills your belly with not just food, but the girth of his dick as well. you try and ride him just like you rode all your previous boyfriends, but it proves to be unsatisfactory because he’s not your boyfriend, is he? he’s your daddy.

and your daddy reminds you of his role when your mother calls, asking him where you’re at, that it’s getting late. biting back a grunt, he has to pretend that he’s driving you both home instead of watching his stepdaughter ride his cock in the backseat of his SUV. that he’s not listening to the quiet little gasps that you keep letting out as he smears your slick and circles your clit with his thumb. that he’s not making you cum just by bucking his hips upward every so often and kissing you so deep that you’re pretty sure you’ll taste him inside your mouth for ages to come.

and he seems to be a nasty motherfucker just like you are, because the moment he hangs up, he makes you quicken your pace and ride him even harder. you need to get home, both of you do, so he tells you he’ll breed you real quick, that he’ll fill you up just because it’ll make you feel so good. that you’ll feel so complete when a part of him reaches so deep into you that you’ll be branded by him forever.

and he’s right, he makes you gush and tighten around him one last time with that promise before he grabs you by the hips and fills you up to the fucking brim. the ropes of white that paint your velvety walls after a couple more of deep, satisfying thrusts feel so warm; they make his cock twitch and his lips quiver before they spill all the praise you’re hastily growing addicted to hearing again and again and again.

“good lil’ girl… fuck, you’re such a good girl for daddy.”

and that’s that and it’s more than enough. by the time you finally arrive home, most of his cum is leaking from your abused hole; dribbling right down the inner side of your thigh. he can see the droplet of milky white glimmering on your skin when he bends down to take his shoes off in the hallway. it makes him smile so sweetly up at you that it causes you to start thinking that you might have just imagined the entire thing.

nonetheless, you can barely wait for your next daddy-daughter date.

who knows what he’ll come up with next time?

[dolls-self-ships]

How I think the HH crew takes their coffee

Lucifer orders the most complicated, sugary, step specific drink you could imagine. He is hated by baristas everywhere. Also gets so excited when ordering he changes it at least 3 times halfway through explaining it. Probably gets something different everytime too. He is a regular with no usual. Charlie canonically likes frappaccinos! Like her dad, I can see her having similar tastes, sugar, but also wanting to keep it simple so that she doesn't overwhelm the employees (she's too considerate for her own good). Orders straight from the menu exactly how it is with no alterations, is also the one who probably walks in with a list of orders for her friends, goes as slow as possible for the cashiers sake. Angeldust rolls up to the drivethrough hung over and orders something iced- probably a caramel drink and he asks for it to specifically be drowned in caramel, and an extra shot. Either that or a vanilla iced latte. Vaggie is not a huge fan of coffee, she gets a tea or tea latte instead. Earl grey is her favourite and she likes a lot of milk. Alastor loves a nice extra hot black coffee. He wants that bitch scolding and bitter. Doesn't even drink it, just splashes it in his face. Where that would normally give someone 3rd degree burns, it gives him some 'extra pep' in the morning, as he puts it (god he's a fucking freak) Husk takes his coffee black also, but instead will spike it with his own bourbon he keeps in a flask. Will sometimes get cream and sugar if he's feeling, as he puts it , 'fancy' (bro is so low maintenance) Nifty isn't allowed to have caffeine for obvious reasons Sir Pentious is another non-coffee drinker but drinks exclusively tea. Is a bit of a snob about it too. Needs the leaves to be fresh or he WILL be able to taste the burntness. His favourite is peppermint. Would rather die than bother the barista to remake it though so he normally brews his own with his own needlessly complicated tea making invention of course.  Cherri bomb loooooves caffine, but isn't much of a coffee drinker. More of a monster energy and redbull kinda gal. She needs something she can drink fast and hard. Don't even get me started on those 5 hour energy drinks. Oh boy. Don't let her near them (she will kill u for one) Vox is an avid coffee drinker. Practically lives off of it and can't get through the day without (it's a problem). Definately has one of those 'don't talk to me before I've had my coffee' mugs bc he's an asshole. Drinks like 5-6 cups in a single day. Send help. Velvette gets a coffee once in the morning and then one in the afternoon. Pulls up to the cash register with her sunglasses on and outfit for the day put together, intimidating buisness lady vibes off the charts while she orders between phone calls. Also definately shushes the barista of they try to ask her any questions, can't you see she's on the phone? Her order is LONG and COMPLICATED and she needs it made the way she likes to a T, she also talks fast and no she will NOT repeat herself so you better be a fast writer. Probably gets something vanilla flavoured with 3 shots of espresso in it. Valentino isn't a coffee guy but if he needs it for a long shoot or late night he gets either an Americano or pure espresso shots. No time to waste with the frills and fancy stuff despite the look of him. Also will throw the cup at the barista if the shots come out burnt or expired.

[octuscle]

Aye Chronivac? I’m glad I found you. See, I have a bit of a soft spot for rugby, despite being a scrawny nerd, so I was at a game for my local team. It’s not great rugby, they’re kind of just a bunch of chavs getting out some energy haha. Well one of their props got injured today and the coach looked through the spectators and then came up to me saying meet him in the club after the match. I did and saw your guys’ logo on his phone before he played with it for a while, and then said we’re done and to call him in 2 days giving his number. Do you have any idea what happened?

That was really a bit crazy now wasn't it? You leave the clubhouse. And even though you're not really a pub-goer, now you feel like a Coke…. But as you stand between the Chavs, still wearing their sweaty jerseys, you prefer to have a beer like them. You don't know the guys, but you can still drink with them… And after two or three beers you know Michael, Wayne Gaz, Mike, Darren, Tom, Luke, Liam, Adam and Tom as if you were in kindergarten together.

It's pretty late when you stagger out of the pub together…. And it takes you some effort to unlock the lock. Fuck, these guys are really hard drinkers. With effort and difficulty you make it to the bathroom and vomit a whole row of pints into the toilet. Nevertheless, you feel surprisingly well the next morning. So well, in fact, that you go for a run before work. Amazingly, your running shoes are in the hallway and your running clothes are hanging over the chair. You didn't even know you owned such a thing….

At work today, you're not quite on top of things. You surf through the sports pages on the Internet. Reading the news about your team's opponents in the next games. Discussing the last games in internet forums. Chatting with the guys on WhatsApp. At the end of the day you really have a guilty conscience. When your boss asks you when you leave the office what you thought of yesterday's game, you feel caught. But obviously your boss really just wants to talk about rugby. He's never done that before.

After work, you go straight to the pub. A few of the guys are there, too. Someone says that your team played like shit yesterday. Without thinking, you hit them. Nobody insults your team. And the first bar fight of your life begins.

The next morning, after running outside the office, you just jump in the shower. Instead of your usual white shirt, you're wearing a rugby jersey. But that's okay, you're not doing an accountant's apprenticeship anymore. You work in the warehouse. You are certainly not an idiot. But you prefer to work with your body. That's why you're so grateful that Coach wants you on the team.

During the lunch break you call Coach. He says that you are welcome to join the training today, he could imagine you in the team.

Rugby has always been your sport. You are very proud to be a real team with the others, not just drinking buddies. And tomorrow you will crush the opposing team!

[fic-heaven]

Pretty lies. (John Price x reader)

Nsfw / heavy angst/ cheating/ questioning one's sexuality/ friends to lovers/ alcohol/ mentions of abuse.

-Imagine having so much chemistry with one person... But he has a girlfriend and you are a lesbian woman. Life had given you plenty of chances to take one more step on your friendship with John Price and you two seemed to enjoy toying between the line of friendship and what seemed to be unreachable. Will you succumb yourselves to the desire you clearly harbour for each other breaking the limitations of your sexuality and his relationship with none other than one of your friends? Let's find out uwu

🐥 Finally: Price 🎉

.

The day your friend's friend Martha told you to unwind after breaking up with your girl, you reluctantly decided to follow her advice.

Martha Swanson was this loud, nosey girl that one of your friends presented as a new addition to your large group and hit it off with all the boys suspiciously fast. Easing up to her was hard, as much as your friends used to brag about you being the chillest, most patient and easy going out the whole pack of you, Martha tested your reputation and this breakup with your girlfriend was making you more irritable with any witty line she shot your way, so instead of hanging out with your group you decided to avoid them all for a while needing some time for yourself. But as soon as Martha caught wind of this, she wouldn't leave you alone sending you multiple dating apps and offering you to hook up with her girl friends as if being single was worse than a death sentence and her kind soul wanted to spare you from it. Ridiculous.

Fast-forward to this morning, Martha had sent you this long-ass text you actually appreciated. And it was this particular motivational text that made you leave your bed, take a quick shower, dress like a porn star and leave your cave of an apartment after kissing your ex's cat goodbye. (who she left for you to care since she didn't want him anymore.) the old orange cat growled in discomfort and it only urged you to kiss his fluffy forehead further leaving a red lipstick stain.

The loud music inside every local you passed by made you flex your fingers around the strap of your handbag in anticipation. A little while later, your eyes landed on a small pub in between two larger ones with neon lights adorning it's name "Puss n' boots." Your heels carried you inside mindlessly.

"Yeah, there's gotta be lesbians in 'ere." You instantly thought. So why not listen to bitchy Martha for once and see if we can fish some pussy? You were tired of crying yourself to sleep because of your cold-hearted ex... It's time to move on.

At least that was the main idea, there were lots of beauties in this pub and you already caught some eyes, sadly they were all men's or some jealous hag's. By your lack of taste and terrible luck with men you weren't going to indulge none of them and the old hags weren't your thing either. You waited for half an hour to see if you had any luck catching any girl's attention, sadly the more glasses you drank the clearer it was that tonight wasn't going to be your night and you didn't have the energy to leave as the pretty ladies that matched your taste were either entertaining some men or invested in whatever conversation they were having with their groups. Maybe you should have stayed home or searched for actual gay bars... You're sure you look fucking pathetic drinking sad and lonely, and more painted than a bloody door.

Fuck, you wouldn't have been doing this if Lisa (you ex) stayed faithful instead of fucking that new secretary of hers and being dumb enough to show off her affair to your mutual friends.

Were you really that easy to replace? Great. Now you are feeling unattractive in your most attractive outfit just thinking about all this mess.

With a huff you crossed your legs on the stool, practically giving up with a sigh, one hand massaged your temple and the other lift to order one more glass of whiskey. To your dismay, it was a raspy, tabaco-burned voice who ordered it for you.

"Leave the bottle. Missy's got a rough night."

"What's got you laughing, bitch?" He spat taking a step back and sparing you from having to smell him further.

You blinked your tears away before turning around and seeing this good-for-nothing bald guy with a few missing teeth and a sinister aura. You couldn't help but chuckle and your chuckle soon turned into a loud crackle until you were covering your mouth and letting out a few tears feeling nothing but amusement and frustration that you went from having this beautiful goddess of a girlfriend to attracting a bald, smelly man clearly wanting to fuck you and probably rob you afterwards, you no longer gave a fuck that you looked absolutely nuts laughing on his face for no apparent reason. But fuck. How fast can your life turn around and leave you drunk on your sexiest outfit, single because you got cheated on, and the only person who wanted to fuck you was this stupid man with nothing but bad intentions and a terrible case of halitosis?

"For a man so full of yourself who claims to see through me so easily... You are quite jumpy."

The bartender came back with the bottle carrying an uneasy look, you swiftly took the bill the drunken trashcan of a man had readied, paid for the bottle and shot a wink to the nervous barman. "Keep the change, luv."

"Aye, Price! Kick the bastard out, he gave us enough headaches for a lifetime..." Ordered the bartender, lanky legs carried him elsewhere to open the back door that led to an alley behind the pub.

"You bitch-" Just as you moved from the stool the bald guy launched your way and the barman rushed to aid you, but another man jumped in ready to save you from the hairy arms of the goblin. This guy seemed cleaner and more sober, with much more hair on his head and a stunning beard with the most beautiful cristal blue eyes you have ever seen. They did remind you of your ex girlfriend's and suddenly the scare of the guy jumping to you lessened as the painful memory of your break-up clouded your turbulent mind once again.

Mr. Stunning Beard tackled the cursing baldie with his strong arms, you didn't waste a second delivering him a harsh punch to the mouth that surely broke some of the few teeth he had left. Your reflexes were still intact as you snatched the whiskey bottle from the counter before the now bleeding asshole could break it with the useless kicks he was giving to every piece of furniture he reached.

"No need to ask, Hugh." Replied the pretty guy whose name was Price. "I'll be right back." He grunted your way trying to keep still the scum he had trapped, you shrugged indifferent.

The people from the pub didn't seem scandalized at all, they actually seemed relieved. Apparently from what you heard from the cute girls near the table you had picked, this guy was a homeless man who came to this pub every time he had enough cash to do exactly what you already knew he'd do to you. Pick a sad girl, fuck and rob her and return a few weeks later. This was one of the few pubs that still allowed him the entry, and I say was because as soon as you served yourself another glass from the bottle the guy practically gifted you, the barman walked to your booth, told you to pick whatever you wanted on the house and assured you that the bald asshole was banned for life. You politely smiled and thanked him with a sickenly sweet smile assuring him you were used to this and thanked him for everything.

Truth is, you weren't used to this at all. You were never a pub girl, your girl didn't like pubs so you never had the chance to indulge in... Drinks, sweat, loud crappy music and drunken guys trying to hit on you when you were just trying to hit on their girlfriends. So you were slightly shaken, but it was nothing alcohol couldn't fix.

Baffled, you laughed to yourself seeing how your manicured hand remained intact even after the harsh punch you delivered earlier, though your laughter died as soon as Price came back cleaning the invisible dust from his casual wear. His blue eyes scanned the whole place until they landed on your spot near one of the front windows. You gave him a lazy drunken smile and a small wave he returned with a smirk walking closer, he sat on the opposite booth and frankly you thanked him for it. You could use the stranger's company so long as it wasn't for something sexual. You were no longer in the mood.

"Nice save, Price guy." You purred when he sat down with a huff.

"Nice punch, eh..." He replied squinting.

"(Y/n). I don't know what you were aiming to do here but I'm not interested in-"

"No worries." He quickly said picking up on what you meant "Actually, I came here because I was wondering if you were kind enough to split the bottle." Price said pointing at the whiskey bottle with a meaty finger, that earned him your first sincere smile.

"Fuck It, why not? It'd be fair after you kicked sir Alitosis' ass in my name." You chirped calling the bartender to bring another glass.

In your opinion, there were three types of drunks: angry drunks, sad drunks and fun drunks. You didn't want to be a sad drunk and make a fool of yourself in front of your new buddy, so you decided to let go of your troubles and simply try to enjoy the rest of the night with new friendly company. Besides, this man seems... Oddly polite.

"I did everyone a favour. Bastard scared away enough girls t'night." Price grunted waving a hand lazily as if speaking about the weather.

"Did he mess up your hunt, big guy? Were you craving to take anyone home tonight?" You asked as a final clarification because honestly, when did a guy, who clearly didn't know you were into girls, sit with you when you were at your most miserable and sexiest without holding any weird intentions?

"Girl trouble?"

Price gave you this tight smile and a quick shake taking you by surprise "Nah I honestly just wanted a drink." He said it so tiredly, like he had a long week, maybe he had problems at home or simply hated his job and wanted to drown the discomfort with alcohol or perhaps he had the same issue as you. Romance trouble. He is handsome to be single.

With all the courage alcohol gave you, your mouth spoke before you could even process it.

"Mm. One of many troubles, I'm afraid."

It's as if you drunken minds had synchronized. Promptly, the desire to hit it off with any women here or spend a second alone reminiscing on a time when things felt "right" died in both your minds, suddenly finding peace and contentment on each other's presence deciding that maybe, this wasn't going to be another shitty night after all, as some friendship could be born from this unfortunate encounter with that scum.

As if nothing had happened, you two begun bantering about anything and everything until the pub closed, exchanged numbers and after four more outings together on that same pub, sleepless nights talking from the phone and random nightly adventures without alcohol in your systems in the quiet streets of London, you two became very good friends, best friends, you dare say.

So it didn't come as a surprise when in one particular outing, Price no longer allowed you to call him by his last name but you were so used to doing so you kept calling him that way and it became fun tease.

"It's John, sweetheart. How many times do I have t' remind ya?"

"I'm sorry it's just weird for me to call ya John when I've known you as Price for a whole month!" You wined, opening the Malboro cigarettes you just bought.

"I'll forgive you, but just this once." John chuckled lighting up your cigar and covering the amber with his palm so the chilly air of the night wouldn't extinguish the flame. You two were leaning very close but with all the trust you both shared in you friendship didn't make it feel awkward or heated. At the eyes of any passer-by, you two were very close friends who tiptoed between the line of friendship and romance, an "obvious" sexual tension radiated from you as Price's heavy arm surrounded your waist pressing your side against his sharing heat and casually glancing at each other's mouths when one of you breathed out the smoke of your cigs during playful, quiet conversations. But the truth was that you two were simply a high ranked officer sharing smoke with his lesbian buddy before you entered your favorite pub for the night. Nothing deeper, nothing intimate. Just two buddies spending quality time with each other.

An yet, he did feel the situation deeper than you. It was the quiet moments you two spent together what made Price sleep better at night. He never straight up told you how much he appreciated having a girl friend other than Laswell and whatever the hell his three-month girlfriend pretended to be at times. Your company always felt refreshing, even if you two had known each other for one single month it felt like you had brought him whatever that was missing on his life, company, a stable friendship without sex in between, self confidence and a break from his mind troubles. With you, John felt wanted, but not in the same way many women had made him feel in the past (including his girlfriend), more like you reciprocated the comfort of his company, deeply content with it even though you haven't seen him naked. As many encounters and other past friendships with women he had in the past, he dreaded the time you'd try to jump on him and he would have to explain to you that he has a girlfriend, but you didn't, and somehow it made John feel... Disappointed?

Os course, don't mistake such disappointment for

The captain found a friend in you he deeply cherished, someone he could have at his doorstep in one single phonecall If he needed a drink or a distraction, someone he could count on every time he wanted to feel a different type of thrill that didn't imply sex or war. More like robbing a bunch of gnomes from a random front yard at two in the fucking morning and running for your lives after getting caught doing it, or like that one time when you two joined a random Batchkorette party in the Puss n' Boots and competed on how many thongs you managed to steal before the night ended, he ended up losing the bet and had to invite you for takeout afterwards. Frankly he'd have done it either way thankful of how hard you made him laugh that night.

This time though, it was Price who wanted to open up a bit as you both enjoyed ruining your lungs together before getting wasted and leaving to his friend's house, "Kyle Garrick". John has been planning the perfect outing for a while, and when Gaz mentioned the meteor shower this morning he knew this had to be his chance to take the next step, he only knew you for a month and you two have behaved yourselves well, but there was something at the back of his mind that irked him to nudge your waist with his and give you this mischievous look that made you arch a brow and return it thinking he had something devilish on his mind that you were instantly interested in joining.

Price felt so young and energetic with you, the strict, bloodthirsty captain he thought he was fell dormant in your presence. It was something that thrilled but frightened him as his very own girlfriend, his team and many exes before her, never managed to make him feel such thing. He really felt like he had to thank you, since the night he met you, Price noted an improvement in how his relationship with Martha Swanson affected him. Every little thing she wanted to bicker about he endured better, every time she spent trying to dry his wallet or flirt with his men he simply stopped caring as he felt all the more eager to hang out with you and forget about his tedious job and awful girlfriend, at the same time, Martha noted his nonchalance and to his surprise, she begun slightly behaving better.

But going back to you two, how could he express his gratitude? Would words work? You never really shared very deep conversations other than one time when you were so drunk out your mind you told Price about your last break-up (without specifying the gender of your partner.) he comforted you however he could afterwards, but because he was also so drunk after the drinking competition you two had, the captain could do nothing but pat your back and gargle out soft-spoken comforts while throwing up in a dumpster near a bus stop when you two were retiring for the night. What a sight you two made. One puking his soul out while comforting the other with tears ruining your mascara.

"Wanna do somethin' different t'night?" He asked with a boyish eagerness written all over his face at the way you contorted your face.

"Come on, man... You have been bugging me for WEEKS with this plan! Don't ya want me to meet this friend of yours so bad?"

Price steals your cigar quickly before you can protest, places it in between his lips with his own and takes a looooong deep inhale that devours half of the two cigars quickly to your horror. You swiftly take off one heel and threaten to beat him with it as he laughs jogging and dodging your attacks with both cigs still on his mouth running behind a pole teasing you to try and catch him.

"Come on! this will be much more fun! I'll tell Kyle a lie, that your cat died or somethin' and that you chickened at the last minute..."

"Don't you dare fake Raspberry's death for your silly spontaneous plans, Big Price!" Your tongue rolls the sweet nickname you gifted him weeks ago making his chest fill with warmth. Your big Price.

He laughs and spits out both cigs nodding his head to the side as to guide you along taking long strides that forced you to hurry in order not to loose him in the mist of the night.

"Fine, alright... But if you wanna skip the plan tell Kyle now or he'll have your ass later." You sigh nudging his arm to which he chuckled lowly in agreement quickly fishing out his phone to send Gaz a poor, brief excuse to move the plan for the next week.

Price took you further from the park behind your block, bought you some snacks in the nearest gas station before crossing the bridge that led you closer to the city frontiers until you two reached a pitch black part in the middle of a gigantic clearing with a more natural terrain and a bunch of dead trees and bushes, it was hard to see when the only source of light were your phones' flashlights.

"Where the hell are you taking me? Price, I swear if you are up to something-"

He rolls his shoulders trying not to complain about you still calling him by his last name "Come on, who do you think I am? After all the trouble we've been through... Do you really think I'd mess with our friendship, doll?"

Just when you were about to complain about your poor choice of shoe wear for this unexpected expedition to the unknown, a massive brick wall came to view and the moment Price got in one knee and offered you a lift you bursted out laughing nervously.

The soft, playful reassurance comforted you instantly, but you went puzzled at the light disappointment you felt when he mentioned not messing with you friendship. It was a very strange feeling, as Price's friendship has always felt the the most stable thing in your life even if you've only known each other for a month. So why would you be slightly upset that he was just as pleased with your friendship as you were? You couldn't want more out of him right? And if that was the case... What exactly would it mean to want more? What did "more" imply if you were gay?

"What!? Listen, listen, listen, listen-"

"Shoot it, doll."

"One thing, okay? One thing is steal gnomes and thongs and cover my sexist neighbor's car with a thousand pink post-it... But we are not breaking into anyone's property, big P!"

"Exactly. Because this doesn't belong to anyone, it's abandoned. Now quit crying and jump, I promise I'll cover my eyes." He said covering his eyes with his palm referring to the very short dress you were wearing.

Price gave you an amused smirk at your dramatism when he joined you up the wall to directly launch himself downwards to the other side and help you down. "I'd beat the crap out of whoever had the balls to do that, but I'm sure I wouldn't have to. You are one tough cookie, (Y/n). Haven't met many ladies who can punch the way you do and climb walls wearing high heels." Your soft laughter and thanks hit his heart harder than what was right from a man in a relationship.

You obeyed with a sigh and accepted his lift as you climbed through the brick wall to then sit on the top edge. "For your information, I'm wearing shorts underneath this rags. I may be dumb but I'm not stupid~ I mean, what If someone lifts my dress all of a sudden? Or if I climb a ten foot wall"

The captain instantly thought "You'd give everyone a good view for sure..."

Before you two stood an abandoned plaza that seemed to have been used for past music festivals and other kinds of events. It was mostly a big secluded space with a huge stone platform and some furniture and junk laying here and there, multiple graffiti adorned the dull walls, structures and even some areas in the stoney floor, the sea of bright colors made a lot of contrast with the weak reds from the bricks and the greys from the stone and cement.

Price took you to the rocky platform where he lit up a bunch of candles he took from his pocket, a bottle of whiskey sat beautifully illuminated by their soft lights. He wordlessly rushed to place a long towel from his backpack on the floor and you tried your hardest not to cringe and run from how romantic this was looking. You were internally screaming at this whole situation. Please let it NOT be a confession. God this is why you can't have any straight male friends...

Price knew you well and could read your discomfort about how all of this looked. "I heard the meteor shower was t'night, don't get your hopes up, doll." He teased and you almost fainted in relief.

Of course he wasn't going to confess anything! He had a girlfriend for fuck's sake! Not like you knew he was taken... But did you really have to act so relieved? Was he really that unattractive to you?'

"Oh god-..." You sighed fisting the hem of your dress dramatically flopping to the ground confident that the towel would shield your clean hair and favorite dress from the dusty floor. "Oh fuck! That's right, the meteor shower!" That made you sit quickly assessing how Price had decorated your spot. "And you brought Whiskey?" You smirked.

"For the occasion-" He muttered checking the time on his phone. "Only a few minutes left, it's a good thing you know how to walk fast with heels or else we'd have missed it." John really hoped you didn't hear the bitterness of his tone.

"Challenge accepted. Remind me in the next outing we plan." His rough hand took the bottle. He fisted the towel below intending to shake off the shiver that ran across his spine when his fingers brushed yours as you handed him the whiskey, you didn't have much luck as you actually did shiver at the contact, which was stupid because... Well you hugged and innocently touched each other before, but it felt different this time... Somehow. A strange wave of uncertainty washed over both of you on your little spot. You blamed your thin clothes for your shiver and he grunted back telling you you should have brought a jacket instead of offering you his, to which you playfully shoved his shoulder and he relented taking another blanket from his bag and shielding both of you from the chilly air.

You chuckled "Oh fuck you, big Price. You wouldn't stand a minute with these!" You said opening the bottle and giving it a good sip before offering it to John. (You two didn't care about sucking the same bottle)

"Ah shut up! There it is!" You gasped pointing at the sky after giving another long sip to the bottle.

And there it was~

The beautiful night sky erupted in a thousand lights, now more clearer as you two laid down away from the luminosity of the city. Price was quick to blow off the candles to make it better for you to see the beautiful natural display of lights. But just as he lifted his head from the candles he saw the way your face lit in wonder, your marvelled eyes reflecting the meteor shower In such an enchanting way John remained on his sitting position watching the spectacle from the windows of your eyes. He thanked the stars above that you didn't notice him staring, his cheeks were already burning red and he'd be too embarrassed to pretend he wasn't looking. After a few seconds and a long-ass sip Price mirrored your position looking up at the sky with his arms behind his head to accommodate better in the hard surface of the stone floor.

"You are amazing." You breathed and John fluttered his lashes in surprise but remained silent looking up at the million tiny lights across the sky with a small smile he could not contain.

"It's... Cool that you planned all this. You should have told me we were gonna climb a fucking wall, I would have brought my sketchers. Fucking fool." You bit amused.

"Didn't know we'd cancel on Gaz and that you'd show up dressing like Emma Stone in Poor things. It was supposed t'be a surprise, twat." John bit back with the same amusement.

"Thank you, Knob head."

"Y' welcome. Muppet."

You both chuckled like two teenagers at the random curses you exchanged before you continued. "No, but really... Thanks. I've been kinda broody for a long time after my break-up with..." You sighed. Why the hell were you feeling so reluctant on telling Price the name of your ex girlfriend? Why were you so hesitant on telling him you were into women? "With that... Cheater."

John rolled his head a bit to face your profile, eyes fixed on yours. You weren't going to confess right? He wasn't sure why, but he felt unprepared to tell you he had a girlfriend. Specially now with how peaceful, romantic and unforgettable this night was getting.

"You are the best friend I've never had. And every day I feel grateful that I had left my apartment that night and chose that shitty rathole of Puss n' Boots to burn my burdens. Because you were there, big P." Your voice wavered a bit and you hated how utterly fragile you sounded. "You were there and you have remained here, by my side."

Price's ocean eyes were slightly glossy at the sight of you opening up before him. It warmed his heart that you were comfortable enough to speak this way around him not hiding your vulnerability.

"I trust you, John." The words scaped your lips and suddenly you went mute, your eyes roled to his side to meet his intense stare, Price felt mute as well as your throats constricted and your eyes welded tears that ran free soon when you both nervously laughed together.

"You called me John..." He hummed pleased before continuing. "That means the world to me. You know I trust you too, right doll? There's nothing bad, I mean nothing, that I'd ever wish upon you, love. I'm very happy I got to meet you as well..."

Your soft, sincere smile lit his world as you replied curling to his side. "That's why I trust you. And I know you will never break that trust, John."

Out of nowhere you felt a strange wave of anxiety overwhelming you, this was too deep, you couldn't... This wasn't right. You didn't know what triggered such anxiety. The delicious smell of Price's expensive cologne, his body heat, his warm eyes looking at you with so much affection or... The fact that he was a man. Shit.

John felt the need to open up as well, encouraged by the emotional moment. It was his main plan anyways "(Y/n), I..."

"Johnathan-...I'm a lesbian." You abruptly interrupted.

His face went blank, like a husk of the friend you knew, crescent eyes widening slightly. John's words died on his mouth when you revealed your sexuality with a fearful face and after the longest most agonizing pause, he muttered in denial under his breath.

"No, you are not."

______

It's been a week and a half, and his words played in your mind like a broken record. Just what the hell did he mean by that?

You went from mourning you cheating partner to mourning a friendship that lasted one single sad month. That, if your friendship was over which you were seriously considering ending if it wasn't. You never spoke about it with Price. Never had the courage to bring up the topic after that awkward night.

The memory became a constant in your mind, when you showered, when you worked, when you tried to sleep... Price had consumed your thoughts in an unhealthy way.

You could remember it like it was yesterday. How after he said that, you two sat up facing opposite directions with eyes lost. The spectacle above long forgotten. How the only thing you acknowledged from one another was the alcohol being nudged your way. One took a long chug from the bottle and passed it to the other until you finally finished it. Once done, you stood up on wobbly feet stubbornly refusing John's hand. He took the bottle and threw it across the brick wall, the distant crash of the fall (probably against a rock) marked the rupture of your bond.

You both left the place wordlessly when you undid the improvised comfy spot. Price accompanied you to your bus stop even when you told him he didn't have to, he just pursed his lower lip and shrugged hiding his hands on his pockets instead of touching you in any way like he used to.

You felt bitter and confused, sad and frustrated and so did he.

There were many feelings tormenting you during your departure that only seemed to grow louder as Price saw you getting on the bus, checking on your figure when you sat next to a stranger further from the window before he left home lighting a cigar.

You cried in bed that night, and you hated it because it hurted more than when you cried about your ex Lisa. Price on the other hand, invited Martha over to his apartment at three in the morning, fucked her until the memory of your last encounter was slightly fogged by the pleasure of his girlfriend's walls squeezing him just right and collapsed in bed ignoring the hickies she had on her left shoulder, hickies he had never given her.

Martha snored soundly tucked by his side, your beautiful face shone from his phone when Price, for the very first time since he had known you, decided to stalk your Instagram account. Yes, you were into girls, that much was clear as the old captain scrolled through your publications and saw plenty of pictures of you with your friends and who he assumed was your ex girlfriend Lisa. There was one particular selfie that made his numb body feel a pang of ache on his chest, it was of you a few months back hugging your girlfriend's waist with this beautiful smile that momentarily dulled his heartbreak until he saw the short caption underneath the selfie: "Today we make two years together! My best friend, my muse, my goddess, my beautiful girlfriend. No one will ever make me feel as whole as you had made me feel all this time. Forever yours, (Y/n) <3"

Just before turning his phone off, he swiped down to read your bio. Price's brows rose up at the sight of his girlfriend's Instagram on your list of followers.

"Shit..."

______

"What's got you low, bee?" Your friend asked entering the shop where you worked at.

It was almost nine and your boss had given you the thumbs up to leave half an hour earlier because you were feeling like total shit and the night went slow anyway, so your friend Alan took it upon himself to try and drag you out of the shop for a night out with your mutual friends and you didn't have the heart to tell them no because of all the time you spent apart.

"Look at him! You can be sooo puntual when it comes to hangouts, Alan-boo." You replied ignoring the question with a purr turning off the lights and locking the door with Alan following you around like a lost duckling.

"It's been so fucking long, (Y/n)! We miss you! When Martha told us that you went clubbing alone all this time to forget about Lis-"

"Clubbing?" You interrupted the redhead with a calm voice as if to not pay much mind to their worry. "You guys can be so dramatic... I just went to a few bars to fish up some gals~!" You said in a sing-song tone.

"Any luck?" Alan pushed guiding you to his car. You gave him a dramatic huff of fake (or not so fake) frustration in replay and he laughed.

Thankfully, during the ride to the bar where they had chosen to meet up, you both didn't comment much more about your nocturnal whereabouts during your "self exile" from the group. The memory of Price was like a punch to the gut you were not in the mood to suffer. At least not for tonight.

The Goblin King was a bar some of your friends frequented every Wednesday night to play Dungeons and Dragons in their basement since the owner was one of your friends' dad, it was funny how no matter how old they've gotten, they still held such deep love for a game they played together as teenagers. Though, tonight was different because most of the people from your group didn't like it, so they agreed to leave table games behind and enjoy drinks with Martha's new boyfriend. You laughed when Alan deflated saying she had organized this meeting only to try and incorporate her new love interest to the group even when she was giving him and (apparently) other male friends mixed signals. You couldn't deny you were feeling curious about who in their right mind would seriously date this woman.

Imagine your surprise when you approached the crowdy wooden table, while your friends greeted and playfully picked on you for disappearing all this time, and you found a pair of tired blue eyes above a magnificent beard staring at you from the other side of the table. Price and you locked gazes, hiding the shock and trying to play it off stretching hands with a quick greet. He was dressed casually and yet it didn't dull his handsomeness one bit.

So she's Martha's so called "rainbow friend"...

So he's Martha's new boyfriend...

"Oh my god (Y/n). You wench!" Martha's sudden call from the bar startled you and you swore you'd vomit from the sudden scare she gave you mixed with the anxiety of having Price looking at you with those baby blue puppy eyes again. Does she know what happened? Did Price mention something about...

"If only I've known you'd be pulling that killer outfit I would have hidden my boyfriend, haha!" She joked sitting on Price's lap making the guys (and you) look away uncomfortable. Price noticed this and tensed up, blinking rapidly for a second parting his lips ready to change the subject. You were still wearing your work uniform which the only thing that could kill was a boner, and suddenly you were feeling insecure. Fucking awesome, thanks Martha.

"First of all don't call me wench, dear. We haven't reached that phase yet." You said amusedly but clearly stating boundaries, she laughed nodding without apologizing. "And second of all... You look like a snack! I'm jealous! Of Price, obviously. He hit the jackpot on ya." You said placing your backpack on the back of the chair before sitting swiftly next to Alan and other girl friend of yours, Malory.

Some of them rose their brows and Martha squinted curious. "How come you know his name? Do you know each other?"

Shit.

"I'm a regular at her shop." Price said casually squeezing Martha's thigh with a tight-lipped smile. You missed his dumb smiles.

"At the tea shop?" Martha questioned suddenly all suspicious while scratching Price's gigantic shoulder with her sinfully long pink nails.

"Babe, I'm British." The way Price said that made the table erupt in chuckles quickly lightening up the mood. Everyone laughed but you who just smiled amused by the comment and quickly excused yourself walking off to order something at the bar with Price's eyes following your every move, the table soon recovered their previous conversations.

What's up with her? This woman has been sexting all your male friends ever since she joined the group, and she was well aware of your sexuality so why act jealous? Oh, and what the hell was with Price dating none other than MARTHA SWANSON? You thought he could do better than that... Come on, John. And since when did he have a girlfriend anyway!? Why didn't he tell you before making that weird (and cute) date thing in that abandoned place? Shit, what if... What if that wasn't a date at all and you were looking too deep into things?

Somehow that thought hurted more than you'd like to admit. But you can't just assume someone's into you just because you are cute and single.

Fuck... Perhaps you were bisexual after all. Or at least just for Price, which isn't fair because he has a girlfriend and your past experiences with men were the reason why you left the closet. You can't simply start experimenting on him to see if you aren't fully lesbian when you still have some issues with men to work on and he has a girlfriend (as bitchy as she is).

The moment you ordered a "Whiskey on the rocks." a male voice echoed your order mockingly at the same time. You rose your brow looking over your shoulder where Price was slowly walking to your side with a small smile looking everywhere but you rocking his weight on the spot he stopped at. You knew when Price did this hip thrust thingy was either because he was happy or he was nervous. And judging by the way he didn't hold your gaze for long, he was most definitely nervous.

Big hairy arms crossed on his chest leaning on the counter, both of you were quiet as the barman quickly handed your glass and went to take your cash until Price rose his hand to halt him handing him his own bill discreetly, surely praying that Martha didn't see him inviting you for a drink after acting so suspicious and jealous in the table.

"Can't say I'm surprised you'd order the same shit as always even when they've got awesome pints in 'ere." He delivered in a soft hum. His voice, ever so manly and calming, made your hard shoulders shag slightly relaxing your stance, Price's gaze was lost in the bottles displayed behind the busy barman who was drying some glasses trying to ignore the satisfaction he felt noting the effect he had on you. Then, you decided to replay but in a way that held a double meaning, you could only hope he understood.

"I'm a gal or habits. But I must say there are things I wouldn't mind trying."

He was taken aback never imagining you'd say such thing. As you took your whiskey and walked one single step further from the bar trying to scape the scene to leave him some space to swallow what you said, Price's hand on your waist halted you instantly. You choke on your breath at the feeling of his giant hand delicately squeeze the plushness of you waist through your uniform like this. He was quiet, a tight smile pushing up his facial hair and cheeks crinkling his eyes further in an expression you had never seen him put and could only be described as want and worry all mixed together.

"(Y/n)." Price begun retreating his hand from your waist.

"I'm sorry." You said, not needing to hear anything else. "I misunderstood the situation when we were stargazing..."

John didn't have the heart to tell you that you didn't misunderstand anything keeping in mind that you two were still coming to terms with what happend that night and the impact it had on your friendship forever changing the view you had of one another. Truth is, (for both of you) that he was afraid of spending another week not talking to you even though the distance was needed. As adults, the stress or work, family and new relationships can make one's emotions unstable and unclear for one's self and therefore for others around them. His aunt often said that as an adult he must figure his shit out, but for Price it was different considering his whole life was his job and he has only begun living it recently. In desperation at the realization that he was no longer a boy but a middle-aged man whose life was running before his eyes faster than he wanted to admit, John suddenly found himself begining a romantic relationship with a woman who was only in for sex and appearances to later finding in her nothing but numbness and headaches, that until he found someone better for him who brought so many feelings and experiences in such little time you've known each other, that filled him with wonder for the future but couldn't persue anything further than friendship reaching his predicament since you were not attracted to him sexually and he was already committed to someone else. What a mess.

"Me too. I'm sorry for..." Price shook his head forcing his eyes to remain in your face with a long sigh. "For acting like that. I know i made things awkward pretty quickly, I didn't mean t' sound hateful or childish, and that plus the week of zero contact surely made me look like an asshole." You nod In agreement with an humorous smile that turned into a chuckle he mirrored. "Our friendship is very important to me, (Y/n). You just-..." He paused staring at the depths of your pupils intensively making you blush feeling slightly exposed. "You are important to me. You just give sense to everything..."

Your smile widened, your right hand swirled the whiskey glass making the ice cubes clank satisfactorily when you took one step closer to Price. "I don't make sense to shit, big Price. It's the alcohol in our systems what gives it to anything in our shitty lives."

Is it though? Is the whiskey in your hand the elixir you both need to feel such connection? Suddenly everything around you disappears, it's only John and you in that bar closer than before.

"Then maybe we should stop involving alcohol every time we see each other." He speaks lowly, his voice and cologne intoxicating your senses. You lips part, the dreamy look in your face making him exhale in delight. "If you're right and any booze we take makes sense to... This." He moves a finger between you and him "Then I wanna stop drinking and be lost in you, (Y/n)."

"J-John..." You would have loved to continue this conversation but having Martha whine Price's name from the table like a desperate cat in heat made you two step away awkwardly and turn to reality going back to the table.

Oh to spend half an hour between laughs and jokes with your friends. How you missed this, you missed them. But as mentioned, it lasted half an hour until all of you all grew slightly tense when you begun taking notice of some heated looks shared between Alan and Martha the more they drank, and the way every time it happend, Price sent you this knowing look that stirred something within you. It wasn't desire, it wasn't amusement, it was something ugly that started eating up your insides until you were so irritated that once Martha and Alan left to the bathroom to do what you all knew they'd do, you took your chance to leave for a quick smoke along some of your friends who left the table sending Price looks filled with pitty. Price didn't mind them and stood up taking his coat to follow your smaller group, hopefully to continue the conversation you two were having.

You were a mess once you left the bar and walked to the nearest alley claiming you needed to be alone for some time, your friends brushed it off as they thought that any mention or hint of an affair would trigger the memory of Lisa.

Price didn't act surprised or hurt when Martha's affair was evident. That was either because he was dumb and haven't realized yet or he simply didn't care, but you knew how sharp big Price was. He wasn't a captain for nothing. You knew how attentive he is about anything and anyone around him, so you guessed he knew. And that started eating up your head with questions fueled by the alcohol in your system: Were you a part of his plan to get back at Martha for her cheating? Was this deep connection between you two something made up by Price to hopefully seduce you despite your sexuality only to shove the emotional affair to his girlfriend's face?

Fuck, you were so stupid. So fucking stupid. First it was your ex Lisa Higgins cheating on you after two years together apparently because you weren't as bold and wild as you used to be when she met you. Now it was John Price, who not only tried and succeed to make you forget about your ex and begin feeling more confident about yourself, but also made you question your sexuality and almost got you compleatly falling for him only to use this to get back at his cheating girlfriend.

You were done feeling heartbroken and used. You were done with romance, it simply wasn't for you. It only brought pain and misery.

"Hey, sweetheart?" You heard near the alleyway until John's face peeked from the brick wall looking at you worriedly. "What's happened? You alright...?" Was he following you again? Come on.

Without a thought you turned to him, your face showing nothing but hurt and vulnerability and Price couldn't contain himself so he quickly approached you wrapping you on your coat that you had forgotten inside and cooed at you as his arms wrapped around you trapping you on a suffocating hug. You whimpered on his chest and spoke up "When I was fresh out of college, I was invited to a party some of my old classmates were throwing." Price looked downwards a little confused until your teary eyes met his again. "No one told me I was the only girl coming or that the game they invented and insisted on me playing was only for them to enjoy... Or that the video they filmed about us playing said game would go viral on Twitter."

There was a pause then and realization hit Price quicker than you thought it would. "Jesus-"

"It obviously didn't turn well for them. But the damage was done. Some time later, the video was deleted, most of them are in jail now and I changed cities years before I met Lisa, but... Well. Since then I leaned more towards women, as you can imagine..."John crouched a bit to your level brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb, his hand was so warm it quickly comforted you. You looked up at him, both of you sharing an intense look that showed that the connection shared you thought lost wasn't so lost after all.

He whispered then "You are the strongest woman I know, (Y/n). I'm so sorry that happened to you..." Which got you sniffing so you could reply quickly reminding yourself of the previous negative thoughts you had about the captain.

"I'm not sorry. I'm much stronger now than I was then, so with that... I can tell you confidently that I'm a lesbian, John..." The way you said it sounded like you were chastising him.

"Are you?" Price asked arching a brow tilting your chin up. He was so close your hands pressed against his chest afraid he'd kiss you and make a fool out of yourself because you weren't sure you'd resist his charms any longer, all against your confidence of liking the opposite sex.

"You know the answer." You felt proud for saying it without a stutter. "Listen, if you are just doing this to use me for your vendetta against you cheater girlfriend, I can't help you. You-... Can't just ask me to like men!" You barked perplexed. Price on the other hand didn't blink, he just looked at you with half-lid eyes lost on every faction of your face making you think he truly hadn't paid attention to anything you just said.

"I don't give a rat's ass about Martha at this point, (Y/n)." Your eyes widened when he said that so plainly, your hands going slack on his chest until his other hand held them tight to his pectorals. "I'm not asking you to like men, only to like me." John grunted out in frustration, and your heart begun beating faster.

What is gender when it comes to love. What is your sexual orientation when you have someone you love and cherish so deeply at the palms of your hands, kissing your feet and loving you unconditionally wanting nothing but to pleasure you in any way they can, to make you feel special and more importantly, loved. Is John Price worth your heart?

"I'm leaving for approximately three months. It's work related and strictly confidential." He continues after giving you some seconds to digest what he said "I don't want you to pity me and force yourself to love me when we are fine just as we are, love. But I want to tell you that the only person that I'll have in my head when I leave England will be you, (Y/n). Not Martha, not our friend group, not my piers or any other bloody person in this country but you."

The sob that scaped your mouth made you feel a pang of embarrassment that forced you to quickly look away until Price turned desperate gently turning your face his way with both hands on your cheeks. "Lie to me... Tell me that you love me, (Y/n). Just once before I leave."

Why is he so dramatic? Is this for real? Could it be that this mission was mortal? He was in the military, this wasn't some stupid work trip where he'd have to talk to some higher-ups and after a week or two he'd come back like nothing happenend. He'd be handling guns and getting fired at. He'd have more wounds and scars to show you followed by countless stories about how he dodged death only to make you realize that his job was indeed dangerous and he wasn't inmortal.

"...I can't..." You sobbed.

"...Why?" He asked, his voice sounding broken contradicting the confident and strong aura he always radiated.

"Why? I'd never lie to you... You dimwit." That earned a loud chuckle from him that sounded painful, like he was forcing himself to laugh instead of crying right then and there. "I'm not ready to say it... Not yet." You whispered, and Price exhaled.

After that, he kissed your hairline, both hands still holding your cheeks up applying more pressure into the kiss before he turned away with a rushed "Goodnight, love." Leaving you there dumbfounded with the realization that, despite claiming that you'd never lie to him, you already did when you told him of your sexuality. At this point you'd consider yourself Price-sexual if that was even a thing, which you were sure it was with the way all your lady friends looked at Price back in the bar.

You needed some time alone in the alley when Price left, feeling an upcoming headache with all the things you felt tonight. When you went back to the bar everyone was there but Price who had left leaving no excuse, but everyone thought he did because of Martha's stunt so they didn't fault him.

______

Two months without seeing or hearing nothing from Price. You felt like you'd go mad.

The countless texts and calls you sent went ignored. You cursed him for leaving you like that, you begged him to call you whenever he could, you reminded him of the silly nightly scapades you made and how fun it was to do literally anything with him, sent pictures of your cat who he always wanted to meet yet you claimed he had to organize a plan with you and his team first, told him how shitty his music taste was and yet how fitting once you investigated the bands he recommend to you when you met. Lastly, you also apologized again and explained all of this was too confusing for you when you were still trying to move on from Lisa and past trauma.

And on the third month, nothing.

Your life felt oddly normal, like Price never existed. Like you never left the group at all. It wasn't a surprise when Alan and Martha openly announced their friends with benefits' relationship out of the blue, most of your friends actually left the group after that because they felt she had messed up the whole dynamic by sleeping with half of the guys when she was in a relationship. Alan didn't keep quiet as he should have and defended her with stupid excuses that pissed all of you off. And yet, after some time, things kind of went back to normal when Martha suddenly disappeared. Alan said she was tired of all the drama and blamed you all for the group's decay deciding she'd focus more on Price and Price alone.

None of you believed her bullshit, specially you who knew Price was still on duty, but otherwise kept quiet on the matter because finally without Alan and Martha, the group recovered itself quickly and you all swore you would never sleep with each other so this types of dramas wouldn't happen again.

Your job was... Boring. Like always. But the routine and your friends helped you heal from Lisa and distracted you from your unfinished business with Price. On this third month without him, you begun going to therapy and it's the best thing you could have done. You had to carry multiple tissues in the first few sessions, and that's when you realized just how many feelings you had suppressed all this years. By the end of the month you realized (if it wasn't clear enough with Price's charms) that you were indeed bisexual, but all the pent up trauma formed a giant wall between you and the opposite sex that made you believe you had lost all attraction you held for men, but Price was the awakening, or so the therapist said. And you couldn't deny it, but you also agreed that it was best to remain single and focus on yourself in order to heal and form healthier friendships and even romantic relationships with other people.

Texting Price was no longer in your routine. Every time you felt the urge to do so, you'd watch a random episode from your favorite series, read a book or take Raspberry for a walk on the park with the new leash you had purchased from Amazon for the orange cat's fourth birthday.

Out of England, John was a mess and was only doing a little worse each day away from home. He'd focus on the mission and would never waver from it, even when his unit tried to take some breaks so they could catch air and relax from work, such thing never crossed Price's mind as he was eager to finish quickly so he'd go back to you. They were all worried, even Ghost, being the quietest, expressed his concerns about Price's change of personality. How he was more snappy than usual, always seemed to sulk, being overly reactive to the enemy's counterattacks just as he was with Laswell when she claimed they'd probably spend another few weeks if not another month stuck in there. Once he almost reached the fourth month away from you, he finally, oh finally, accomplished his duty and was granted permission to leave home earlier than anyone had liked. Frankly he didn't give a fuck about how badly it looked from him (as a captain) to leave "early", as this mission got on his nerves and he was worried sick about your view of him after he left the way he did to then throw a killing blow by ignoring your texts since he was not allowed to contact anyone at that time. But you didn't know that.

When he returned to his apartment, Price went directly to charge his phone and threw himself to the bathroom eager to enjoy a long, well-deserved shower followed by a wank. Watching the grime wash from his body being carried by the steaming water was something John didn't think he'd watch ever again. This mission was hellish to say the least, too many close calls, many fellow soldiers lost in enemy territory, many new scars to "brag" about... And he was fucking exhausted, so at the last minute he decided to skip the wank and read your messages.

This mission shouldn't have tired him the way it did. After all, he IS a captain. He is in the military. This should have been a walk in the park for him but... But where was his heart and head if not in the field of battle? He was too worried over losing you all over again due to his absence that it tired him mentally, so much so that instead of worrying for his life, Price only feared he'd never see you again, that he'd die without hearing you say that you reciprocated his feelings.

Honestly, you did imply that you do, but you never properly said "I love you." It's scary how much power that one sentence held over Price. How he felt like he could die in peace if only you said such thing. It was stupid, childish, even. But he couldn't help but feel weak over you.

Price didn't know you for a full year and he felt like he'd loose himself if he never got to see you again. Just like young lovers feeling so much intensity in their first relationship they'd be planning their future together even though they wouldn't last long. Maybe's because you were best friends, maybe's because of the limitations in your relationship due to your sexuality and his girlfriend... His obsession could be caused by many factors. But the easiest answer was simply because you were you. Because he never craved anything or anyone the way he craved you. Because you brought that spark to his life he never thought he needed until he begun feeling it in your company.

Because you were his everything.

Finding thousands upon thousands of texts an calls from you stirred something primal in Price. A need of returning to you, of feeling a loving touch after all these months of blood and carnage, to receive a sassy remark or literally anything you wanted to throw at him to comfort his old tired body, to make him feel like he was safe away from danger. The captain needed to return to his home, and his home was his woman.

Lover or friend, no matter what you chose, you were his. He'd be damned if he never got to tell you this.

______

On your way home from work, you felt a strange feeling of anticipation. You wanted to excuse it telling yourself it was because you were craving to get out of the rain and snuggle with your cat, much to his distaste.

Your eyes widen when you spotted a hooded figure sitting in your porch. The man is tall, the hoodie is old and from a certain someone's favorite football team. The hooded person lifted his head and you stood there frozen, a few steps away from where he was sat.

"John...?" Price felt like he'd die right there when you weakly called his name.

The months apart messed with his head and right now he could only feel... Yearning. He yearned for this.

His giant body propelled itself from the steps like an invisible force was pushing him to touch you. Your drenched body cried at the contact of his warmth and the smell of blue lavender Axe, his favorite deodorant. His arms wrapped around your middle and yours hugged his neck while Price buried his face on you wet locks with a needy sound you could only describe as a whine, you did the same with his neck lowering his hood that now uncovered his oak hair. No longer wet under the rain, your porch secured you from the shitty weather. You both panted at the contact as if during all these months you couldn't properly breath until you were holding one another.

Fuck the invisible chastity belt, fuck your doubts about your sexuality. Your John is back home, and you are one hundred percent willing to give him a very warm and wet welcome.

"Hello, dolly..." John gasped and you chuckled emotional, your shaky hand struggled to fish your keys from your coat's pocket eager to get the wet captain out of the cold.

"Hello to you too, big Price-..." You made a quick move to scape his bear hug and he didn't fight, afraid of crossing your boundaries until your hand took his tightly while you made quick work on opening your front door to drag the tired man inside your home until.

"SLAAAAG!" Your neighbor yelled from across the street.

John and you froze, shared a confused look then turned back to face your annoying neighbor.

"FUCK YOU, RONALD!" You screamed and Price followed back with a "GET YER FUCKING ASS HOME, RONALD!" Yeah. That's the same sexist neighbor you two tormented one drunken night by covering his entire work van with pink post-its.

"FUCK THE PAIR OF YA!" He wishes. "I SPENT MY WHOLE SATURDAY MORNING GETTIN' RID OF 'EM GIRLY PINK POST-ITS FROM MA' VAN! YA WANKERS! I KNOW IT WAS YOU! I'LL SUE YA!" The old man threatened trying to open his front door to secure the grocery bags from the rain. He looked clownish as hell, the insults and threats never affected you guys only causing a fit of low laughter to scape your grinning mouths.

"Ow fuck off you fucking dinosaur! Get the fuck back inside before I demolish ya!" Price said back with laughter on his tone rising a fist to your neighbor's way, that earned him a smack on the chest from you compleatly amused by his empty threat. Price tilted his head to your door silently begging you to hurry and you complied.

You two rushed inside leaving the old man baffled taking a second before he resumed his list of insults lovingly dedicated to the both of you. Ronald probably thought he won the fight so soon you'll have to put him on his place with one of you pranks. But now you MUST focus on Price.

After you closed the door and dropped your wet coat to the previously dry floor so carelessly, you jumped on Price shoving him against the wall with the force of the impact, your arms and legs wrapped around him like a monkey while he held you up tightly laughing endeared.

"Where the heck were you!? I told you to call me!" You exclaimed nuzzling your cheek against his loving the way he practically melted at this gesture, his beard scratched your skin as he pressed closer letting out an exhale that seemed to rob him of all the air from his lungs. You weren't mad at him after all. God, the relief. And this new cuddly side of you? He couldn't believe this was real. Weren't you resentful? Your loving nuzzles don't express so.

John's shoulders shook with the small enamoured chuckle he let out, then, he leaned close to whisper in your ear making you shiver lightly "I told you it was classified, love. Besides, I wanted to surprise you." He gave you a small pat on the bum. "Did I succeed?" He purred lastly, voice liquid honey.

You felt-... You felt warm all over. And you were sure he knew it by the way he was pressing yourself closer and closer, and fuck. There was no doubt the gigantic tent on his pants wasn't any of those big guns they carried on the military. Just when the realization hit you that you had John breathing heavily in your ear, your body compleatly wrapped around his while his erection was pressing hardly and JUST right against your clothed cunt, you whimpered.

"Fuck." You hummed. Weren't you supposed to avoid this? You should talk to your therapist about it next monday...

"What do we..." John breathed out, still afraid he was surpassing your boundaries.

Your eyes met his, noses gracing due to being in such close distance. He was immobile, his hands still supporting your weight by your bum and his boner pretty evident as it stabbed your jeans over your wet panties.

"You a virgin?" You joked, he tilted his head slightly back to fix you a confused but amused look with a small squint.

"Is there a right answer...?" Price mustered sounding uncharacteristically flustered and nervous.

"You act like one, big P." You grinned and his eyes darkened.

"God, I fucking missed you."

Your lips clashed in a heated kiss that felt fucking perfect even if it was a blur between lips, teeth and tongue. Gosh he had so much hair on his face, and yet it fit perfectly. His hands were massaging and squeezing your ass, now blindly walking to your living room until you both reached the couch where he flopped you on your back making Raspberry yelp in surprise, the poor cat hurried to get the fuck out of the room before Price begun taking his clothes off laughing in eagerness with you as you did the same. Like two young lovers, as mentioned. In a blink, your clothes were all across the carpet. With matching eagerness you made a quick move to straddle the aroused captain who whistled at how fast you moved to top him.

How proud he momentarily looked. Price's sure you'd be quick learning self-defense technics if he were to teach you. Maybe the reward of sex could be a motivator judging by how lightheaded and hungry you seemed on top. Of course he was only letting you on top because he fucking missed you and felt like he owed you.

His heaving hairy chest tickled your breasts once you fully sat on his lap with his erection pressing against his toned abdomen, your eagerness seeming to tone down feeling slightly intimidated by the sight of the giant captain being used as a human chair, cock standing proudly between you.

"W-well..." You stuttered. But who could fault you? Imagine being a lesbian for years and finding yourself straddling a guy with a cock the size of a monster can, and fat as one too. It was meaty all over, cut, with a big pink tip. His big thighs shifted a little impatiently from time to time because of the arousal. Even his nipples under the small mat of hair on his chest had gone hard as peebles. You felt... Aroused but intimidated, and Price could tell, his voice coming low and comforting but teasing nonetheless.

"Now who's acting like a virg-"

You shut him up by robing him a kiss, he hummed in delight. The kiss was brief but deep, soon reviving the fire in your cunt. His sky eyes shut as you moved back again to assess the issue staring down his huge dick with a determinated look.

"If I only knew you'd be shutting me up with kisses... I would have turned the most talkative mother fucker in all London." His awful flirting worked dissipating your nerves further, yet after a little pause feeling the little hesitation you had left, he wanted to make sure.

"We don't have ta' do this." Prices' tone was soft and assuring, but you already made up your mind and you were one hundred percent sure you could do this.

"You are such a sweet talker, love..." Price tried to fight the huge grin on his face when you called him that, but just like a happy dog moving it's tail, his cock twitched in between your folds, reannouncing his arousal. You grinned delighted at this leaning to his ear, his eyes entranced at the sight of your bare tits pressing up against his chest.

"You do like it when I praise ya, huh?" You whispered on his ear, he agreed in a light "uh huh..." Both hands massaging your thighs impatient, his breathing going raspy, but he was clearly holding himself back. "I'm okay with this... No need to be so cautious when you've got me naked n' wet all over you, John." You purred nibbling on his earlobe. To such sentence, his body begun reacting accordingly to how he was feeling, his tip leaked, his hands grew sweaty and his breathing heaved deeper, his thighs shifted more and more under you suffering from the strong desire to thrust up.

His lips found yours, one of his hands cupped your right ass cheek as the other guided your hand towards his leaking cock delivering your lower lip a bite as your small hand grabbed his heating cock firmly. Then, John asked. "Can I speak bluntly...?" You whined a "sure... Stop usin' filters... Just fucking tell me what you think, big P." He was so sweet for asking though.

"Right then..." The way his eyes darked and the strong painful squeeze on your buttocks made you shift on the spot. "I'm gonna fuck you so fucking hard, luv... You've got no idea how long I wanted to do this..."

But it was your response what got Price feeling like this whole ordeal was just one of his deepest darkest fantasies about you being manifested by his tired brain. "Fuck me, huh? I think I'll be the one fucking you, big P. Look at us. The big scary captain Price just returning home to be riden to death, pussydrunk and victorious."

The following growl he let out was nothing but sinful, the sweet result of your eager hand moving his cock fixing the tip in between your folds drenching it with your arousal, the perfect natural lubricant. "I've brought condoms." Price said stopping you from sinking down his member any further. Your eyes met his once again, pupils so dilated he could see his own reflection in them.

"We'll deal with the consequences later. Buy a pill or something, I don't care..."

Price was weak man. He was so fucking weak for you.

"How irresponsible~..." He was so quick to shut up with a loud grunt that sounded like old guy getting kicked on the balls once your ass was fully seated on his lap. His cock slid directly inside with zero effort, punching your womb with the force of your abrupt jump downwards practically impaling your small body. He'd have to reward you somehow by how nice and quiet you tried to be once the whole monster entered your small, flushed pussy.

Price had this shit-eating grin staring up at your fucked out face. You shifted on the spot with his cock still inside molding your walls, soon adjusting your legs planting the heels of your feet on the the couch on each side of his wide legs. John picked up on this and held your ass more firmly, both hands enjoying the way your ass cheeks melted to his palm. Then you grinned back with this challenging look, and Price was in.

Your ass sunk aggressively hard, instantly with a very desperate pace colliding against his thighs and big, hairy, pulsating balls. John sat there with his mouth watering and eyes widening at the sight of your blissed out face, the loud moans you let out were Price's new favorite sound. Your moans, and how awfully dirty you begun to talk.

"F-fucking perfect..." You let out, eyes hypnotized by the way his pecs begun lightly jiggling like jello at the pace and force of your hips. "I needed this cock, John. Fuck-fuck- I... I needed you to fucking impale me with this fucking thing." Jesus.

Your higher body leaned back arching like a cat, with one hand using his left shoulder as leverage and the other supporting your weight on his knee. His own helped you guiding your pace by your hips, big calloused palms nuzzling and squeezing your tender skin. "Y' like ma' cock so much you'll end up- ..." He growled deeply at the realization of what he was about to say. "... fucken' knocking yourself up with my babies..."

Oh it shouldn't make you this desperate to hear such thing. The topic of kids was always something you avoided. But can you avoid it now with the way your body shivered, your pace turning sloppier and aggressive and your moans turning louder? "Y-YEAH! SHIT!"

Price felt like fainting right then and there, your whole body went forwards once more digging one of your nipples on his watering mouth. You both cried out loud when he met your eager jumps with thrusts of his own, balls hitting your ass so fucking hard, the clapping sounds could almost match in height your screans of bliss. How could a small doll like you NOT break with the way his cock bullied your insides like a horse in heat? How he felt the small tip of your cervix kiss his cock head, your painfully tight walls strangling his giant cock.

Your screams of pleasure will most definitely be the topic of the next meeting between your neighbors by the end of the week, and honestly? You were happy about letting them know that all the effort and training you had spent fucking dragon dildos up until now had been rewarded with the giant cock of your best friend testing the flexibility of your cunt.

"H-have no idea- AH! F-ffff....of how- of how long I've spent fucking touching myself thinking about this monster cock...H-How it bulged-" You whined reaching a second orgasm, Price's thumb didn't help one bit as it rubbed harshly on your small puffy clit.

"Y-yeah? Tell me about it, sweetheart..." He begged, body all shiny with sweat biting his lower lip at the small building pain from his spine by the way he was thrusting up so hard.

"Y-" A scream interrumped you, pace slowing down. Your whole body shivered and the urge to pee was so overwhelming you simply let go, your ears rang missing the way Price moaned out when his cock was being strangled harder than before and he could feel the waves of pleasure from your cunt. A big shot of squirt drenched his whole abdomen, his thumb aggressively played with your clit in order to prolong the orgasm. Prices' eyes went so wide it was almost comical, your body was shaking as if you got electro shocked, one hand weakly punching his chest so he'd stop and the other squeezed his knee painfully, your mouth open and whaling in pleasure followed by fat tears at how fucking blissful it felt to squirt so much and so hard all over your sweet captain. Price couldn't hold himself still, and against your wishes, (he'll apologize later) he flipped you over wrapping his arms around your body. He laid you down with your head almost handging off the armrest of your ruined couch, your knees were pushed to your ears' level and the enormous figure of Price engulfed your form when he lowered his body to hold your position still by tightly gripping at your ankles, pistoning his cock in and out of your puffy, squirt-drenched pussy. He applied all the force his sore body allowed him by using his toes by the end of the couch as support instead of his knees.

Imagine the bliss of an eighty four kilogram mountain of muscle dropping his whole weight at a quick pace against your crying sex. You were screaming before but now you were in a deep coma and he was the one screaming feeling his cock get milked in a way he has never experienced in his forty years of life on this earth. "F-FUUUUUCK... YES! FUCKING KEEP SQUEEZIN' ON MY DICK, BABY!" Price was shooting prayers at the sky, but the only goddess they were directed to was you and your enchanting, addicting pussy. "Y-YEAH... SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, SHIT..." When was the last time he felt like this in bed? Fuck, you truly were the one and only for him.

And it was one particular stab of his cock what seemed to bring you back to life, eyes going white rolling back. You moved your head forwards slowly, your chin pressing on your chest to properly look at the relentless attack of Price's cock, thrust going sloppy and uneven. There's no words that could describe the love you two felt at that moment, when your eyes met, mouth drooling with the purest of pleasure before you lowly growled. "Give me your seed, John..."

Price didn't ask where, he just let go inside of you. His feet were in the air when he delivered one final thrust, his waist was pressing hard against yours with the weight of his lower half, his hands still used your ankles as leverage to not fall on top of you. Price roared out his orgasm at the incredible and indescribable feeling of his balls emptying somewhere VERY deep inside your pussy, so fucking deep you could imagine the fountain of semen reaching even your throat (though anatomically incorrect). You two panted like dogs, still unmoving but not for now with the way your bodies seemed to give up on both of you.

Price held your expent body close, you two cuddled on the small space of your couch bathed in various different fluids.

Counting two minutes laying there in silence with your eyes closed, head pressed against his hairy chest, Price's soft feather touch along your waist stirred you up to reality. The feeling of your pussy crying rivers of cum made you round the Captain's waist with your leg followed by a long exhausted hum.

"Jesus..." You have no idea who out the two of you said that. But mood. That was the most intense sex you've ever had.

"Uff... That felt like three rounds in one go if you have any left..." You exhaled with a soft smile looking up at John who lazily blinked at you with a small smile of his own.

"Aha... Might wanna give me some time to recover, firecracker. Fuck, not even my job gets me this sweaty..." The captain jested earning a little kiss on the tip of his nose. "I wanna... I wanna melt right here for now. With you."

Your tired smile softened making Price lean impossibly closer to you. Curling against your sweaty body felt like heaven after the hell he had gone to all these months. Like you could read his mind, you asked.

"What's it like out there? Being a captain n' all?" You had never asked him many questions about his role in the military because the mere mention of his job brought a somber look on his half-lid eyes. You knew it was a heavy topic for Price, he stood proudly on his occupation but you could read the pain he felt when he recalled the things he did and people he had lost to get to where he was right now.

John spoke lowly, tiredness making his foggy brain answer with sincerity. "No body ever told me being a captain could be this... Suffocating. I just knew when I was promoted. Everyone keeps askin' me what I wanna do durin' missions... And I just look at 'em and say what they want and need ta' hear. But you know what I really wanna do?" He took a pause then, eating up the sight of you naked on his chest with this comforting look on your face. "I wanna go home, hug you even if I never was a hugger... I wanna get the clean cups outta the dishwasher and put 'em in the cupboard to make some tea for us in the morning. I wanna watch you drinking it peacefully as you rant to me about this new book you've read or show you've seen, tell me of the new plans you've made for us in the night, who'd be pranking and what we'd be drinking while doing so. I wanna make you feel good, so good, wanna make ya orgasm as many times as I can to pay for all the time I'm gone for work. Truly. I just..." John sighed. And after a small pause he gave you the word to speak.

"I wanna sleep. All the time. Sometimes it feels like, when I have my eyes closed I can somehow travel to a dream where I don't feel shitty or useless or unloved constantly. And then I wake up and you are missing and I'm back to that crappy reality where I can only feel like shit." Your confession squeezed his chest so hard, the exhausted brit felt tears gathering on his eyes.

"No longer." Price promised.

"No longer." You echoed mimicking his manly voice breaking the soft moment causing John to giggle like a kid at your clownery. Such a funny and strange sound coming from him, but at the same time so fitting with that sweet stupid smile he was gracing you with.

"Fuck, you are beautiful." He said.

"I love you." You replied.

.

[silamander]

hello!!!!1!

This is a free pass for you to talk about anything you want, as much as you want! Exposit! Lore dump! Rant about your interests, or something that irks you! Whatever it is, use this as an excuse! Someone out there is interested in what you have to say (it's us. We're the someone)

...you know what that means gang.

More random Hatchetfield headcanons

- Ted spends a lot of time emailing Pete instead of working because a part of him is paranoid Pete might get hurt at high school.

- Miss Holloway spends a lot of time birdwatching in the mornings.

- Max failed his driver's test twice so he just drives without a license.

- Grace sleeps with a stuffed pink bunny.

- Tom was on the football team with Max’s dad. He was scum and Tom never liked him, he could never explain why but he just rubbed him the wrong way.

- Paul likes iced caramel frappes. He just orders black coffee because it’s easier for Emma.

- Richie is an energy drink junkie.

- Charlotte does yarn crafts (like knitting and crochet and cross stitch and shit) to get her anger out because stabby stabby.

- Barry Swift has ADHD and OCD.

- Gary Goldstein decorates his house like a suburban white mom, those rustic white letters in the kitchen, everything labeled in slightly stretched text, that type of thing.

- Stacy is Becky's niece, and Stacy looks up to her a lot so she became a cheerleader to follow in her aunt's footsteps.

- Ethan actually believes the hat works because he was wearing it the day he met Lex and since then nothing had has happened to him when he wore it

- The people of Hatchetfield hate Clivesdale because Mayor Lauter was born and raised there, and hated it there so much that he convinced the whole town to hate it as well.

- Hailey spends a lot of time watching animal and dinosaur documentaries. She gets attached to the animals quickly and gets really upset when they die. (No this is not me self projecting).

- In human form, Wiggly’s nose scrunches up when he’s angry.

- Ruth as a Sophmore hit on Senior Alice a lot. Alice thought it was funny and she and Deb “adopted” her.

- Hailey and Trevor (Jon’s barbecue monologue’s character from Nerdy Prudes) are cousins. Very random but I think it fits.

- Hailey admires Trevor and his natural talent for performing. In a way, it makes her feel more insecure of herself, seeing her younger cousin be so good at performing, and she sees it as her still not being good enough.

- Wiggly sleeps in sand like a squid. Like literally just buries himself in there, completely submerged.

- Richie can and will ramble about Naruto to some random person on the street if they're willing to listen.

- Grace is secretly a hazbin hotel/helluva boss junkie, she only watches it on library computers though because she wouldn’t be caught dead watching it at home. (Pete caught her watching it once and he had to pinky promise to never tell anyone. They're siblings, your honor).

- No one in Hatchetfield ever said anything about the workin boys being in a gay interracial polycule, not because it was a secret, but because they were football players, and hatred for clivesdale is exponentially more powerful than homophobia.

- Since Lex and Ethan also went to Hatchetfield High, Max would have definitely tried to get it on with Lex, mirroring his thing with Grace but this time the forbidden fruit is that she's a senior and she genuinely doesn't give a flying fuck about him. Imagine a younger, less jacked Max Jägerman in his sophomore year constantly getting his shit rocked by Lex and Ethan every time he tried to shoot his shot.

- Karen Chasity was secretly the most rebellious and incorrigible party girl on the planet. She started dating Mark and her viewpoint changed. She now denies everything she did in highschool.

- Paul and Ted once accidentally kissed at an office party after getting a slight bit too drunk. They have both agreed never to speak of the incident ever again (the one thing they ever agreed on).

- Pete loves horror movies because he’s a special effects geek and Steph lies and says she likes horror movies so she still looks cool but is actually not a fan and the scares almost always get her.

- If the Green-Foster family ever did get to move to California and Lex got to be an actress, her interview attitude would be a lot like Reneé Rapp, in that she barely has a filter. If she ever got asked about why she’ll openly shit talk people in an interview, she’s like “I used to work retail I learned pretty fast that nothing gets done if you keep your mouth shut.”

- No one at CCRP ever knows what to get Paul for work holiday parties so now he owns a bunch of gifted mugs and he's starting to run out of cabinet space because he doesn't want to get rid of anything that was gifted to him.

- Gary unironically refers to Facebook as "the book of faces”

[nervousloveheart]

Chris: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Martin: Several traffic violations. Aviva: Three counts of resisting arrest. Koki: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Jimmy: Also, that’s not our car.

-------------- Chris: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me? Koki: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it. Martin: Four of us saw it, Koki. How do you explain that? Koki: *points at Jimmy* Sleep deprivation. *points at Chris* Paranoia. *points at Martin* Delusional personality disorder. *points at Aviva* caffeine induced hallucinations.

---------------

Martin: I'm an idiot Koki: Chris: Jimmy: Aviva: Martin Koki: If you're waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.

---------------

Koki: We've been conducting an ongoing study to see what Martin will and will not eat. Chris: Grass? Yes! Koki: Moss? Yes!! Chris: Leaves? Ohh, yes! Koki: Shoelaces? Strange but true! Chris: Worms? Sometimes! Koki: Rocks? Usually nah. Chris: Twigs? Usually! Koki: Jimmy's cooking? Inconclusive! jimmy: How did you… test this? Chris: You just hand him stuff and say "eat this" and if he eat it, he eat it. jimmy: ...I don't know how to feel about this. Aviva: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?

-----------------

Chris: Jimmy is late again. Martin: How did this happen? I called him at 8 o'clock this morning and pretended it was 11. Koki: I printed up a fake schedule for him saying we were starting at 9 instead of noon. Aviva: I set his clock to say PM when it's really AM. Chris: Oh boy. We may have overdone it. *Jimmy bursts through the door* Jimmy: WHAT TIME IS IT?

-------------------------

Aviva: I swear to everything good on this earth that I'm the only one here with a braincell. Martin, Chris, Koki, and Jimmy: ALL HAIL the keeper of the sacred braincell!

------------------------

Martin: What makes you all smile? Chris: Friends and Family. Jimmy: Snakes. Aviva: Victory and success. Koki: Face muscles.

[tehb3stsk4t3revr]

Got inspired by a post I saw this morning so here's literally 2 entire pages of headcanons comparing Infected and Kasper. Fair warning: It dips into talk of symptoms I imagine he'd have and the whole Poptart situation.

[A lot of which assume he'd have like. Actual biological needs instead of being Video Game-y, which seems to be sort of a grey area in-game anyway...]

Kasper was already kind of stupid so honestly not much is different on that front. Average 2010s gamer dudebro sort of deal. Although Infected has a bit more 'what kind of animal is the pink panther?' in him than Kasper.

Infected has next to no impulse control, leading to him doing things he shouldn't and speaking without thinking pretty much constantly.

Infected has balance issues that Kasper didn’t due to inner ear inflammation from the infection. He can’t really do anything on a skateboard anymore besides just stand there or go in a straight line. He can and will find a way to trip on flat ground.

He's convinced he still rules at it, though.

The inflammation has also made his hearing kind of shit. (The only person he can hear with perfect clarity is Folly, as she probably speaks directly into people’s minds or something lol.)

Infected loves soda and drinks basically only that. Boy who was born with kidney stones <3

The neurotoxin in his favorite soda was a deeply unreasonable amount of aspartame (and other chemicals. For fun! <3). Not being able to drink it anymore has somewhat improved his balance issues and memory, but he still misses how it tasted (it probably tasted like what you'd get if you boiled down an entire 2 liter of diet coke until it's barely a liquid then filled an 8 ounce soda can with that. Dude’s tastebuds and liver are Fucked).

Kasper had a fairly similar way of talking to Infected, minus the 1337. ("Sweet parteh trickz dud!11")

Infected is in constant pain. Headaches, body aches, sore throat, can't breathe well, burning skin, heavy eyes, nausea that won't go away, sniffles, random nerve pain, probably other shit. He barely notices it anymore unless someone asks how he's feeling. He doesn't have much energy to spare. He would come across as significantly more hyper/manic than how Kasper used to be if not for this.

He doesn't put any of the energy he has left towards cleaning. Kasper could deal with a little mess, but still picked stuff up when it got ugly. Lampert was also willing to help when he visited. Now Infected is too tired and unfocused to pick anything up most of the time, and Lampert refuses to set foot in the apartment complex until Kasper is better. Infected has started throwing garbage off the balcony when it gets in the way too much. It's kinda fun!

Infected occasionally dissociates. Finds later that he's already talked to someone about something and just repeated himself, bought something already and now he has two, spent hours on his computer without remembering a single thing he looked at, or already met someone he thought he hadn't seen before.

It has actually been explained to Infected before that Kasper is his name. This just started an argument and the topic was dropped forever from that point forward.

Infected is deeply stressed out by seeing his own face for reasons he can't communicate, so he avoids looking at it as much as possible. He used to have a mirror in his apartment but he threw it off the balcony in a fit of rage one night, then covered the blank space where it used to be with a poster. Same thing with ripping Kasper’s face off of the picture on his desk. Any photos of him that are on his PC have either been sent to the recycle bin or cropped so that his face isn’t in them. He's completely fine looking at drawings of himself though. That's definitely him.

When left to his own devices, Infected's diet is… Inconsistent. He will forget to eat for long periods of time then binge when the hunger pangs finally get so annoying that he can't ignore them anymore. He's at least sort of hydrated because there's usually a six pack of soda on his desk or by the couch, but unless someone on the elevator is feeling generous he doesn't remember on his own very often.

Kasper was very comfortable being physically affectionate with people and would be happy to cuddle or lay on a friend's lap if they were cool with that. Infected is even more touchy and would be clingy if he had chances to be, but due to his extremely obvious contagious disease nobody lets him get close. He is incredibly touch-starved and would probably get emotional if someone hugged him or even just sympathetically rubbed his back now.

 Kasper was alright at resisting the urge, but Infected has picked at every scab he's ever gotten, and he ends up with a Lot. He will pick at them until the damage is worse than the initial injury unless someone stops him/tells him to put a bandage over it.

Kasper would bite his nails to keep them short and pick his nose sometimes but Infected's nails are completely trashed. Some of them have scabbed over or still-bleeding cuticles and hangnails because he chews and picks at those too.

All of the contact with his spit has caused his fingernail textures to semi-permanently unload. You'd think they were painted if you didn't know why they looked like that.

Nosebleeds from his nasal cavity getting torn up from all the fussing are not unheard of and yet he's gonna keep doing it.

Constantly drooling when he's not talking. Some of it is post-nasal drip. Sometimes he remembers to wipe it off on his arm, but most of the time it just ends up on the floor/running down his face and soaking into the neckline of his shirt. Or sprayed all over the walls/someone's face when he sneezes.

Kasper used to keep a bottle of hand sanitizer in his pocket to help Lampert feel more comfortable. He stopped doing that forever ago after he got sick. (You know how rabies does a bunch of shit to animals to make them better disease vectors, including to their brains? Yeah, something like that).

On some level he knows he's sick. Would be more stressed out about it but the infection has repressed his ability to care (and the part of him that’s still aware of it is probably also heavily in denial). This has affected other aspects of his emotional range, causing it to come across as unusually flat, especially to those who knew Kasper.

Infected is scared that if he’s taken to a doctor’s office they’ll hurt him, so on top of genuinely not being able to recognize that he's sick he will deny all accusations regardless out of this fear. He’s technically not wrong, since trying to purge the disease to save Kasper would be extremely painful for him, but this thought mostly comes from his illness trying to preserve itself.

The last time someone tried to lead Infected to DrRETRO’s office for an intensive care stay he panicked upon realizing what was going on and fought back until they let him leave (fucked them up pretty badly), so now everyone keeps their distance and kinda uselessly tries to convince him to go voluntarily with their words.

Infected is incapable of maintaining strong negative emotions if pushed into being that upset. He'll be mad or sad for maybe a minute and then something else will get his attention or he’ll get too tired to think and he'll forget whatever was bugging him.

Every so often he will lose hope about finding Poptart and then abruptly ‘reset’ a minute or two into sobbing his eyes out, completely confident that any day now the little guy will come back safe and sound.

Despite this it is still really easy to get him Gamer Raging. Way easier than it ever was with Kasper, who was a pretty good sport in most cases.

Infected's particular brand of Gamer Rage is ‘Heckling people until they shut up/go away’, or until it's out of his system. This is the most typical way he processes anger. The impulse control is Seriously out the window when he gets like this.

Kasper knew a lot of stuff about the games he liked offhandedly (mostly competitive co-op FPS games like counterstrike, tf2, l4d2, etc) and could tell you so much esoteric bullshit about them, but if you tried to ask Infected he would get too excited trying to think of something he could share that would be really cool and then not actually be able to remember anything.

The only context in which Infected's reaction time isn't ass is video games. Something about muscle memory. In any other situations he is usually pretty slow to react. This does not mean he's slow to do things, though. When he's acting on a dumbass impulse thought he's probably halfway done doing it before anyone can stop him.

It is possible to get Infected to acknowledge that his situation is Fucked for a moment or two if you press him on the most obvious evidence that he's sick (his headaches, the fact his allergies haven't cleared up in years, the snot on his face, etc), and if you pressed hard enough you'd start to see him get scared. He knows you're right, but there's nothing he can do about it. And then the recognition would be gone again as soon as you stopped talking.

This doesn't work when you bring up his name (Who's Kasper? Never met the guy.) or objects in his surroundings, only symptoms of illness directly observable on/in his body.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Whenever Feminist Mikasa pictured herself falling in love, she always imagined she would fall for a nice, respectful guy who's a feminist just like herself. Instead, here she is, on a Wednesday night, anxiously looking at her phone waiting for a 'u up?' text from this asshole she can't get out of her mind💀💀

isn't that how it is FOR SO MANY WOMEN!!! LMFAO UR DESCRIBING LIFE AND THAT'S WHAT'S ROUGH BUT IT'S EREN SO WE'LL ACCEPT IT !!

She hates it, she can't stand it at all, actually just contemplates throwing her phone against the wall.

Because why the fuck is she still awake, it's 1 am, she has class tomorrow at noon, with the very object of her ire actually. And because as of right now he hasn't texted her, she should really be going to sleep, because the very fact that he hasn't texted her means that tomorrow she'll be taking the bus to class, which means she'll have to leave at 9 am, at the earliest, instead of rolling out of Eren's bed at 11:30 and rushing to wake him up in time for class.

She should be happy, she'll go to class refreshed, if not a little windblown from the air outside and switching buses twice, but she'll be wearing clean clothes, freshly showered, and smell like lavender and not Eren's body wash.

It'll be nice. So why the fuck can't she fall asleep, pacing around her room irritably, glancing at her phone every few seconds, her watch to see if a delayed notification has come in. This has been their routine for weeks now, text her at an unseasonably late hour of night, order her an uber to his place, they fuck, too loudly and for far too long, but god is it ever good, and then the next morning, she wakes up at 11:00 on the dot, freaks out, tries to get herself ready and when she inevitably realizes it's 11:45 and Eren is her ride, she wakes him up too. And they both arrive to their gender women's studies class in a haphazard heap of unwashed clothes, smelling vaguely of sex and body wash, and they both go their seperate ways down the aisle of the lecture hall, Mikasa to Sasha and Eren to Jean.

Where the awkward conversations will progress, and Mikasa will lie through her teeth and say she just had a 'rough morning', that her alarm clock didn't go off, and she'll vaguely overhear Eren touting some similar bullshit, but with a lot more chuckles, and suggestive remarks about 'the babe' he'd had over last night. It's an exhausting practice, so why does she want it to continue ?

And yet, even as she falls into bed, teeth brushed, hair combed, skin care complete she can't sleep. It's like she's had an energy drink, a shot of caffeine, 150 mg at 1 am, and she's revving to go with energy.

At 2 am, just as she's about to slip up and take a melatonin she is rewarded for her hard work. It's embarassing how fast she snatches her phone.

Eren Yeager, 2:05 am

u up?

She has never been more relieved in her life. She resists the urge to text back right away, she can't let him know she was waiting, physically aches, pouring over with affection for those two little words. It's a game, how long can she wait before she replies, and how long until he falls asleep, too tired to stay up for her response. Mikasa makes it a whopping five minutes.

Mikasa, 2:10 am

no.

Eren Yeager, 2:11 am

i'm sending ur uber, be ready, i'm fucking tired.

Mikasa, 2:12 am

I hate you.

Eren Yeager, 2:13

👅👅🍆🍆

God why does even his pathetic string of emojis give her the shivers, she's so fucking frat-boy coded now it's ridiculous.

Nonetheless, she gets in the uber anyway.

[fox-daddy]

Mc x non main Li;

I have no idea if I'm allowed to post twice but I wanted to make sure it got posted on time so I did them with their main Li first instead of putting them all together. This is them with their non main Li's. So the ones I ship them with but not as much as their 'main' routes. Only two are missing and that's because for one reason or another I don't ship them. Anyway enjoy.

Kyle;

Portia;

(Kyle:4'4/Portia:5'1)

Meeting would be fun as Kyle is one of the few people who is not just shorter than Portia just above her shoulder. They would've quickly gotten along with Portia's high energy but friendly nature and Kyle's friendly nature and equally high energy.

Their relationship would be double trouble. Both of them getting into trouble both magical and not. Especially during Portia's upright with Kyle having experience even if forgotten from working on pirate ships so their relationship having a lot of travel would be nothing but positive for Kyle as he and Portia spend a lot of their time together joking and having fun. While also knowing when things get serious they can both focus and rely on eachother.

Muriel;

(Kyle;4'4/Muriel;6'10)

If Muriel is scared to hurt 'normal' sized person you can imagine how he feels meeting someone as small as Kyle. Kyle however is quick to pick up on the fact Muriel won't hurt him from the way Muriel holds himself to hide some of his height.

They would probably have a funny relationship, small more hyper one and the big monotone one. Their relationship would be quiet sweet with Kyle doing his best to show Muriel the fact he's allowed to want things and to enjoy things. Trying to show Muriel the nicer things to life without pressuring him to enjoy everything. As he just enjoys having Muriel around and doing stuff with him. For Muriel having someone sweet who doesn't mind quietness is nice even if Kyle's small height scares him.

Lucio;

(Kyle;4'4/Lucio;5'10)

I would not be surprised if Lucio's first reaction to Kyle is to try manipulate before quickly realizing that isn't going to work. Kyle would probably see Lucio as someone to be weary of but also curios in.

Overall their relationship would be more interesting with Kyle definitely being the moral compass and Lucio being the muscle. With that said Kyle would definitely also party with Lucio between jobs making sure not to spend all their money of course. Between jobs and travel is parties and not destructive fun.

Hunter;

Asra;

(Hunter;5'4/Asra;5'8)

I'm going to assume Hunter is the Mc for Asra. Meeting Asra would be able to see through Hunter as being more similar to the moon, using their loud party energy to hide something. Hunter would see Asra as almost proof for what their adoptive aunt was trying to teach them.

Their relationship is pretty calm, while at first Hunter isn't thrilled with physical affection over time and gentle touches they start to really enjoy soft cuddles in the morning and while drinking tea. Along with Asra helping them with their shorter temper, not that it stops them from playfully playing along with any flirt off or silly game Asra comes up. Especially having grown up around Muriel Asra knows just because they have a more stirn exterior it doesn't mean their above playing along occasionally, although it is much easier to get Hunter to play along then Muriel.

Lucio;

(Hunter;5'4/Lucio;5'10)

uh no, Lucio would've liked Hunter right away because assertive and loud remind you of someone? Hunter would've thought Lucio was slightly annoying due to his whining but intresting.

While Hunter has a better moral compass than Lucio they would still get into a lot of trouble together. Hunter not afraid of bar fights and letting Lucio beat up an asshole or two if they encounter any. Although Hunter usually tries to make sure Lucio is in the right so they don't get thrown out, might even get a free drink depending on what's happening and who their beating up. For the most part they take bounties and roam around. Similar to Hunter's entire teenager phase but this time with a lover.

Bluebell;

Nadia;

(Bluebell; 6'4/Nadia:5'10)

First meeting would be fun since Bluebell would be immediately intimidated by Nadia and reflectively try and avoid being her main focus. Nadia would probably pick up on that quickly seeing Bluebell as soft spoken and skittish. (lowkey have no idea how they would get into a relationship but if they did.)

Where with Kyle and Nadia it's easy to assume Nadia is taking full charge while Kyle is actually keeping close notes. With Bluebell and Nadia this is true. Bluebell is there to support Nadia and while having her there helps give them enough courage to be on stage their not about to say anything during debates and is more than happy to let Nadia look after that. However, that isn't to say that Bluebell let's Nadia do everything that isn't true while in public eye they don't say much in private they act both as a good ear for Nadia to bounce ideas with but also at reminding Nadia that she can't do everything alone and should ask people if she needs something. Also acts as a good reminder to take breaks since given the chance Bluebell would also work themselves into the gave trying to do everything. (less out of the need to do everything themselves and more out of the need to get everything done.)

Asra;

(Bluebell; 6'4/Asra; 5'8)

pretending either cannon is different or Bluebell isn't Mc they would probably meet Asra while borrowing (stealing) one of Lucio's animals to give it proper medical attention. Asra would probably think Bluebell is interesting and Bluebell would probably be scared Asra is actually a guard or worse someone in standing with Nadia/Lucio.

Cuddles, so many cuddles. With Asra being more introverted and Bluebell being shy I could see them traveling a fair bit even as the Mc it wouldn't take much to convince Bluebell to join them on a trip. Especially if it's somewhere with mythical animals, as Bluebell has a way with animals and Asra has a way with magic and animals. Overall their relationship would be gentle and sweet.

Julian;

(Bluebell; 6'4/Julian;6'4)

First meeting depending on if Bluebell was Mc or not. If Mc it would be them freaked out by Julian having broken in and Julian being too focused on finding Asra/getting answers/being dramatic to realize. Bluebell seeing him as loud and dramatic. If not Mc their first meeting would probably be Julian catching Bluebell borrowing (stealing) one of Lucio's animals so they can give it medical treatment. Having the exchange of 'I never saw you if you never saw me'

Relationship wise they're both workaholics by nature so they'd probably have to force eachother to take a break and sleep. With Julian being a dr and Bluebell having trained as a dr but now working as a vet they understand medical stuff a lot more than the average Mc. Julian is able to push Bluebell to be more sociable without the expectation for them to become extroverted like him and Bluebell reminds Julian that he's worth taking care of, even when he feels like he isn't. Aside from with Portia I could see them having one of the most domestic lifestyles. Bluebell getting home before Julian and making dinner, them cuddling and eating, them both doing some late work together and then each of them forcing the other to go to bed so they can wake up early the next day, have breakfast and go to work. With their days off being a mix of going to the rowdy raven and running around the streets having fun with each-other.

Portia;

(Bluebell; 6'4/Portia;5'1)

Their first meeting would be interesting with how shy Bluebell is in general. So I could see it going with Portia chatting with Bluebell and them listening closely and only occasionally replying. With Bluebell being amazed at how positive and bubble Portia is and Portia curious about what secrets they're hiding behind their quiet exterior.

They would actually have an interesting dynamic someone who sees themselves as the secondary character and someone who would love nothing else than to be the background character. Bluebell showing Portia that she is the main character in their mind brave, smart and kind and Portia showing Bluebell that even if they don't think their brave, bravery is different things to different people and just being there is brave.

Muriel;

(Bluebell;6'4/Muriel;6'10)

I actually have a meeting for them where Bluebell would be doing checks on the wildlife species, making sure local species are thriving. When Bluebell runs into Muriel while in the woods would notice Muriel's connection to nature and ask for help with it explain it's to help the forest. While sceptical Muriel would help and slowly realize that their just keeping numbers for local species and them explaining they do it twice every year to track them and eventually showing Muriel the data on how some species numbers were going down with migrations then up and how others stay stable year round.

Their relationship would slowly grow with Bluebell spending more time around the woods and Muriel slowly growing used to having Bluebell around. With Bluebell's and Muriel's quiet nature they wouldn't speak a lot but would grow more comfortable around each-other. With Bluebells magic being focused around healing would help Muriel relax a bit as it becomes clear Bluebell really isn't a fighter and can't fight, seeing their connection to animals and determination to help them as sweet. While Bluebell would try and show Muriel they deserve more while also letting him do what he wants with no expectation for him to become comfortable with humans. Rather showing their care through making him food and small items. A chunk of their relationship would be giving small gifts like food and small carvings and quiet time together sharing a deep interest in nature and protecting the forest.

[senditcolton]

As It Was

a/n: still a little angsty. but this one has a much more hopeful ending than the last, i feel.  word count: 1.1k warnings: none! gender neutral reader!

Whatever here that’s left of me is yours just as it was.

The first succession of knocks woke you up.

The second got you out of bed.

The third had you silent cursing whoever was on the other side of the door for being so goddamn persistent. Who had this much energy at two in the morning? What was so important that if couldn’t wait until the sun was in the sky?

You don’t get any answers when you look through the peephole and see the frame of the person standing on the doorstep, baseball cap pulled low over his pale blonde hair, the brim hiding his blue eyes. You quickly unlock the door, swinging it open, half expecting to be greeted with an empty hallway, like you imagined him.

But he’s still standing there.

“Elias.”

Your voice comes out as a whisper, filled with… disbelief? Hope? Melancholy? You weren’t quite sure. And from the look on his face as his eyes darted to meet yours, it was clear he wasn’t sure of the feelings twinging on the edge of your voice either.

You didn’t blame him for his uncertainty. After all, you had done many things that even you couldn’t understand. Such as making the decision to remove yourself from his life. For reasons that seemed so inconsequential now. Reasons that were so important to you back then.

“Can I come in?” he asks and it’s that gently accented voice that calls you back to reality, where you are still in your pajamas, blocking the doorway as Elias stands there, hands buried in his hoodie, the cool Vancouver night air blowing through the threshold.

You step aside, silently beckoning him into the apartment he had entered many times before. The door is closed shortly after, the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place echoing around the room before you turn back to him.

The silence that fills the space between you is heavy. You aren’t sure why he’s here. You aren’t sure if you are in the position to ask. So, instead, you ask a different question.

“How’d you know I was here?”

“Brock told me that you were crashing with him and Annie after… well, you know. And I know that they’re on their honeymoon right now so…” His voice trails off, head ducking back down to stare at his shoes. You can’t stop the small smile that tugs at the corner of your lips at his shyness, something that pulled you to him in the first place.

“Do you want some tea? Or coffee?” you ask, calling him back to you. A task that you were familiar with doing; bringing him out of his head.

One that you hadn’t been successful in for what felt like a long time. The failures of which were part of the reason the two of you found yourselves in the current situation.

“Tea would be nice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you murmur, moving to the kitchen to put the kettle on, grabbing mugs from the cabinet. You let yourself get lost in the motions, although you are still cognizant of Elias entering the kitchen behind you, settling down into one of the high-top chairs that line the island.

The steam coming off the top of the mugs is still strong as you set one down in front of Elias before grabbing the milk, honey, and sugar from their homes and returning to him. You watch as his elegant hands grab the ingredients he wants, taking a hold of the spoon and creating the drink to whose recipe you still had imprinted in the back of your mind.

You didn’t make it for him tonight though. Perhaps because you didn’t want him to know how much of you were made up of parts of him.

“Where are Coolie and Milo?” Elias asks after taking a sip of his tea.

“In their crates. We were all sleeping, y’know,” you gently tease him.

“Right,” he laughs lightly. “Sorry about that.”

There is another silence, one that is once again only filled with the sound ceramic against marble as you both sip your drinks.

“Are Brock and Annie treating you well?”

“What are you doing here, Elias?” you ask, refusing to further participate in this stumbling dance of small talk. Elias ducks his head again, taking another drink.

It was as if he didn’t think this through. There he was, waiting for the apartment to be empty of everyone except you before showing up to where you were currently living late at night. And now here he is, unsure and uncertain. Like he didn’t think you would let him in. Like he didn’t believe he would get this far.

“I just wanted to apologize,” he finally says, eyes darting to look at you and you can see the sincerity shining in his pupils. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, when you left.”

“I said a lot things,” you murmur, your head now ducking down. “Not all of them fair.”

“Maybe,” his whisper gentle and assuring. “But you were right. These past few months, I neglected you. Put too much focus on my career, on winning, on leading even if no one was looking at me to lead. I was so worried about not being good enough for all of them, that I forgot to be good enough for you. I became a different person. And I can understand why you left. I wasn’t the man you fell in love with anymore.”

Every word he speaks lands heavily on you. Every word he speaks ignites that fire in you that always burned so brightly when it came to him.

“I guess,” Elias continues, “I just came back here to ask if it was possible for us to go back to how we used to be. Before all this. Before I drifted away. Before you left. I just wanted to see if you still wanted me. Despite everything I’ve done.”

“I will always want you, Elias. It was wrong of me to leave like that. You will always be the man I fell in love with. And I vowed to love you for better or for worse. I didn’t.”

“I vowed to love and cherish you always. And I didn’t.”

“I guess we both have some work to do,” you breathlessly laugh, causing that small smile to appear on Elias’ face. “But one thing’s for certain; I love you. Nothing is going to change that.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. I’m yours, just like I always have been.”

There aren’t any more words to say. And so, neither of you speak. Elias simply reaches his hand across the cool marble, sliding underneath your left hand and taking it in his own. You can’t surpress the shiver that runs through you as his calloused fingertips brush against your knuckles. And you don’t even attempt to stop the smile that appears on your lips when his thumb caresses the smooth metal band on your ring finger.

The one that he placed there a year ago.

A promise. Unmoved and everlasting.

[daimonclub]

Quotes and aphorisms on food

Quotes on food Quotes and aphorisms on food by various and famous authors and writers, ideas and thoughts to a well balanced diet and food philosophy to eat and live better. I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead - not sick, not wounded - dead. Woody Allen We live in an age when pizza gets to your home before the police. Jeff Arder A gourmet who thinks of calories is like a tart, who looks at her watch. James Beard Unbought feasts.  (Lat., Dapes inemptae.) Latin Proverb An anonymous man from the 16th century always used to say: "There are many important things in life, the first is eating, I don't know the others." Carl William Brown Hunger is a good cook. Author Unknown Tomatoes and oregano make it Italian; wine and tarragon make it French. Sour cream makes it Russian; lemon and cinnamon make it Greek. Soy sauce makes it Chinese; garlic makes it good. Alice May Brock Eating is touch carried to the bitter end. Samuel Butler One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well. Virginia Woolf I would like to find a stew that will give me heartburn immediately, instead of at three o clock in the morning. John Barrymore Only the pure in heart can make a good soup. Ludwig Van Beethoven

Aphorisms on food Yogi ordered a pizza. The waitress asked How many pieces do you want your pie cut? Yogi responded, Four. I don't think I could eat eight. Yogi Berra Edible. Good to eat and wholesome to digest, as a worm to a toad, a toad to a snake, a snake to a pig, a pig to a man, and a man to a worm. Ambrose Bierce The discovery of a new dish does more for human happiness than the discovery of a new star. Anthelme Brillat-Savarin I do not like broccoli. And I haven't liked it since I was a little kid, and my mother made me eat it. I am President of the United States, and I'm not going to eat any more broccoli. George H. Bush The healthy stomach is nothing if it is not conservative. Few radicals have good digestions. Samuel Butler I am not a vegetarian because I love animals; I am a vegetarian because I hate plants. A. Whitney Brown What most moved him was a certain meal on beans. Robert Browning I just hate health food. Julia Child Life is too short to stuff a mushroom. Shirley Conran Anybody who believes that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach flunked geography. Robert Byrne A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine and becoming viands. Lord Byron The right diet directs sexual energy into the parts that matter. Barbara Cartland

Aphorisms and quotes on food It is a difficult matter to argue with the belly since it has no ears. Cato The Elder For its merit I will knight it, and then it will be Sir-Loin. Charles II Thou shouldst eat to live; not live to eat. Marcus T. Cicero Although there is a great deal of controversy among scientists about the effects of ingested food on the brain, no one denies that you can change your cognition and mood by what you eat. Arthur Winter Food = joy ... guilt ... anger ... pain ... nurturing ... friendship ... hatred ... the way you look and feel.... Food = everything you can imagine. Susan Powter Bread that must be sliced with an axe is bread that is too nourishing. Fran Lebowitz Food is an important part of a balanced diet. Fran Lebowitz Inhabitants of underdeveloped nations and victims of natural disasters are the only people who have ever been happy to see soy beans. Fran Lebowitz More die in the United States of too much food than of too little. John Kenneth Galbraith Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly. M.F.K. Fisher Food was always a conduit in our family for storytelling, and it was a way for us to keep in touch and remember things. We're people that use food to keep each other together and to always cheer us up and make all of our days better. Rachel ray My favorite food city is wherever I happen to be eating. You know what they say, love the one you’re with! Pamela Anderson A crust eaten in peace is better than a banquet partaken in anxiety. Aesop The soup is never hot enough if the waiter can keep his thumb in it. William Collier The one way to get thin is to re-establish a purpose in life. Cyril Connolly

Salami Italian typical food To eat is human, to digest divine. Charles T. Copeland Square meals often make round people. Joseph E. Cossman I found there was only one way to look thin: hang out with fat people. Rodney Dangerfield Let the stoics say what they please, we do not eat for the good of living, but because the meat is savory and the appetite is keen. Ralph Waldo Emerson When a man's stomach is full it makes no difference whether he is rich or poor. Euripides Cheese is milk's leap toward immortality. Cliff Fadiman Roast Beef, medium, is not only a food. It is a philosophy. Seated at Life's Dining Table, with the menu of Morals before you, your eye wanders a bit over the entrees, the hors d'oeuvres, and the things a la though you know that Roast Beef, medium, is safe and sane, and sure. Edna Ferber I've been on a diet for two weeks and all I've lost is two weeks. Totie Fields Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly. M. F. K. Fisher Food has it over sex for variety. Hedonistically, gustatory possibilities are much broader than copulatory ones. Joseph Epstein I am not a glutton - I am an explorer of food. Erma Bombeck Food ... is the topmost taper on the golden candelabrum of existence. Donald Barthelme He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth; And wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart. Bible, Psalms The food here is so tasteless you could eat a meal of it and belch and it wouldn't remind you of anything. Redd Foxx One should eat to live, not live to eat. Benjamin Franklin More die in the United States from too much food that from too little. John Kenneth Galbraith God comes to the hungry in the form of food. Mahatma Gandhi It isn't so much what's on the table that matters, as what's on the chairs. W. S. Gilbert Meat eaten without either mirth or music is ill of digestion. Sir Walter Scott Mellow nuts have the hardest rind. Sir Walter Scott

Thoughts on the art of food Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast. Oscar Wilde We ought to know about our culinary past. Food and identity is terribly important ... I don't mean we should go out and eat historic dishes, but we should know what makes us different ... self-confident nations have that sense of where they come from. Tom Jaine What is food to one, is to others bitter poison. Lucretius Food is much better off the hand than the fork. Mario Batali You can't just eat good food. You've got to talk about it too. And you've got to talk about it to somebody who understands that kind of food. Kurt Vonnegut We need a quarter of the food we eat to live, the rest is used to fatten industrialists, advertisers, doctors and undertakers. (obviously for those dying of hunger the situation changes.) Carl William Brown Food - what is chosen from the possibilities available, how it is presented, how it is eaten, with whom and when, and how much time is allotted to cooking and eating it - is one of the means by which a society creates itself and acts out its aims and fantasies. Margaret Visser There is such a thing as food and such a thing as poison. But the damage done by those who pass off poison as food is far less than that done by those who generation after generation convince people that food is poison. Paul Goodman A gourmet is just a glutton with brains. Phillip H. Haberman Jr. As a child my family's menu consisted of two choices: take it, or leave it. Buddy Hackett A store of grain, Oh king is the best of treasures. A gem put in your mouth will not support life. Hitopadesa First rule of Economics 101: our desires are insatiable. Second rule: we can stomach only three Big Macs at a time. Doug Horton Most of us are either too thin to enjoy eating, or too fat to enjoy walking. Edgar Watson Howe A lot of Thanksgiving days have been ruined by not carving the turkey in the kitchen. Kin Hubbard A man seldom thinks with more earnestness of anything than he does of his dinner. Samuel Johnson He who does not mind his belly, will hardly mind anything else. Samuel Johnson He who cannot eat horsemeat need not do so. Let him eat pork. But he who cannot eat pork, let him eat horsemeat. It's simply a question of taste. Nikita S. Khrushchev Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may diet. Harry Kurnitz I judge a restaurant by the bread and by the coffee. Burt Lancaster The most dangerous food to eat is a wedding cake. Author Unknown

Quotes on food and wine Food is our common ground, a universal experience. James Beard The fact is that this generation - yours, my generation ... we're the first generation that can look at poverty and disease, look across the ocean to Africa and say with a straight face, we can be the first to end this sort of stupid extreme poverty, where in the world of plenty, a child can die for lack of food in it's belly. Bono The act of putting into your mouth what the earth has grown is perhaps your most direct interaction with the earth. Frances Moore Lappe Ask your child what he wants for dinner only if he's buying. Fran Lebowitz Food is an important part of a balanced diet. Fran Lebowitz If you're going to America, bring your own food. Fran Lebowitz Vegetables are interesting but lack a sense of purpose when unaccompanied by a good cut of meat. Fran Lebowitz I told my doctor I get very tired when I go on a diet, so he gave me pep pills. Know what happened? I ate faster. Joe E. Lewis If there were only turnips and potatoes in the world, someone would complain that plants grow the wrong way. Georg C. Lichtenberg Everything you see I owe to spaghetti. Sophia Loren Choose rather to punish your appetites than be punished by them. Tyrius Maximus It ain't what you eat, but the way how you chew it. Delbert McClinton You can travel fifty thousand miles in America without once tasting a piece of good bread. Henry Miller Never eat more than you can lift. Miss Piggy We are digging our graves with our teeth. Thomas Moffett Lunch kills half of Paris, supper the other half. Charles De Montesquieu No man is lonely while eating spaghetti; it requires so much attention. Christopher Morley You needn't tell me that a man who doesn't love oysters and asparagus and good wines has got a soul, or a stomach either. He's simply got the instinct for being unhappy highly developed. Hector Hugh Munro He that eats till he is sick must fast till he is well. Hebrew Proverb There is only one thing harder than looking for a dewdrop in the dew, and that is fishing for a clam in the clam chowder. New England Proverb

Vegetarian food pyramid Want to learn to eat a lot? Here it is: Eat a little. That way, you will be around long enough to eat a lot. Anthony Robbins We know that ever woman wants to be thin. Our images of womanhood are almost synonymous with thinness. Susie Orbach We may find in the long run that tinned food is a deadlier weapon than the machine-gun. George Orwell Strange to see how a good dinner and feasting reconciles everybody. Samuel Pepys Make food a very incidental part of your life by filling your life so full of meaningful things that you'll hardly have time to think about food. Peace Pilgrim He who eats alone chokes alone. Arabian Proverb It's better that it should make you sick than that you don't eat it at all. Catalan Proverb Don't dig your grave with your knife and fork. English Proverb A good meal ought to begin with hunger. French Proverb Appetite comes with eating; the more one has, the more one would have. French Proverb There is no such thing as a pretty good omelette. French Proverb Coffee should be black as Hell, strong as death, and sweet as love. Turkish Proverb When one has tasted it he knows what the angels eat. Mark Twain He who is a slave to his stomach seldom worships God. Saadi I have found it to be the most serious objection to coarse labors long continued, that they compelled me to eat and drink coarsely also. Henry David Thoreau There is nothing to which men, while they have food and drink, cannot reconcile themselves. George Santayana To eat is to appropriate by destruction. Jean-Paul Sartre Eating is not merely a material pleasure. Eating well gives a spectacular joy to life and contributes immensely to goodwill and happy companionship. It is of great importance to the morale. Elsa Schiaparelli He jests at scars that never felt a wound. William Shakespeare There is no love sincerer than the love of food. George Bernard Shaw

Ideas and quotes on food Seven's a banquet nine a brawl. Author Unknown Worthless people love only to eat and drink; people of worth eat and drink only to live. Socrates For much of the female half of the world, food is the first signal of our inferiority. It lets us know that our own families may consider female bodies to be less deserving, less needy, less valuable. Gloria Steinem Lunch is for wimps. Oliver Stone Man shall not live by bread alone. The Holy Bible Put a knife to thy throat, if you're a man given to appetite. The Holy Bible Much meat, much disease. Author Unknown Fang drops so much food on his ties we keep them in the refrigerator. Phyllis Diller Do not arouse disdainful mind when you prepare a broth of wild grasses; do not arouse joyful mind when you prepare a fine cream soup. Dogen A good, honest, wholesome, hungry breakfast. Izaak Walton Our lives are not in the lap of the gods, but in the lap of our cooks. Lin Yutang Find out more visiting these links: Good food for your diet (With Videos) Vegetarian food diets (With Videos) Thoughts and reflections on food Aforismi e citazioni sul cibo International and Italian recipes Enogastronomia e turismo Italian recipes, fashion and travels https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/collection/easy https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes http://allrecipes.com/recipes/1947/everyday-cooking/quick-and-easy/ http://www.sjana.com/blogs/lifestyle/food-for-the-soul Cooking traditions in Lombardy, Italy Read the full article