#stumbling falling and tripping to get colours right

[daddyfordaeddy]

Pairing: king! Seonghwa x queen! f! yn

Word Count: 2804

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Fluff, smut, royal au, M for mature audiences

Summary: Your marriage to Seonghwa has been nothing exciting. But things change during his coronation ball.

Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), some praise, slight begging, pretty vanilla if i do say so myself lol

Written for @cultofdionysusnet's permanent event <3 took me a bit to get it down lol, and a big thank you to @arafilez and @sanjoongie for helping me out <3 i really wrote 1.5k prologue before getting to the smut and u can tell it got to me since the smut is very storybook like and not just filth lol

AND yes i know the irony of having a red themed banner when the title is blue blood but hey man i...have no excuse

-

Your palms are sweaty. It’s the first ball the royal family has hosted since your marriage to the then-Crown Prince, Park Seonghwa. And it’s the first social gathering you’ve attended since. You’re pretty sure the maids can see how nervous you are and you’re grateful the wine-red gown you’ve adorned for the occasion will cover any sweat marks or wrinkles you’re sure you will make.

You cannot even politely decline this event—not when it’s marking the start of your husband’s reign as king.

As the maids layer one last necklace, you shiver at the feeling of the cool metal touching your skin. The sparks flickering inside the red jewel catch your eye and you brush your fingers against it with a bittersweet smile. It was a wedding gift from your husband, the Park family blessed with fire magic. You find it ironic that such a cold-faced family can have control over such warm and bright magic, as well as red being their crest colour.

You don’t hate Seonghwa, of course. He’s been respectful to you, only speaking to you when necessary and otherwise leaving you be. The two of you share different, albeit connected, chambers, and he never enters your room without permission on the rare occasion he needs to.

But God, you wish he would at least smile at you so you don’t feel like a piece of furniture in your new home. While high up in nobility as the daughter of an Earl, you were no duchess and you were sure if you attended social teas you would be scrutinised. So you stick with counselling the civilians who cannot win an audience with Seonghwa and managing the household.

With another sigh, you send the servants away to gather your wits before meeting your husband in the foyer. You squeeze your eyes shut, breathing deep, before moving to pour yourself a small glass of wine.

As you down the bitter liquid, a knock sounds at the door. “YN, are you in there?” The honey-deep voice of your husband makes you jump a little.

“Ah, yes, I’m coming,” you call out, setting down the crystal glass and opening the door to see your husband standing just a bit too close to the door. You’re met with a faceful of his chest and you stumble back. “Ah–”

A firm hand wraps around your waist to keep you from tripping on your skirt and you can see the faint amusement on Seonghwa’s face. “Now, now, we can’t have you falling even before the dancing starts,” he chuckles, and you stare at him, unused to such a cheerful demeanour from him. His lips twitch as he holds back his smile. “Are you all right, my wife? You look a little befuddled.”

You blink up at him owlishly before realising how you must look and quickly turning your face away. “I’m all right. Shall we go down, then?”

Seonghwa chuckles low in his throat. His hand reaches up and brushes a few strands of your hair out of your eyes. His touch is soft and you involuntarily find yourself melting just a little. “Yes, let’s go and show off my beautiful wife.”

You laugh at that, pushing him away playfully. “This night isn’t about me, it’s about you…my king.”

Seonghwa coughs when you use his new title and it’s his turn to face away from you, although you can see his ears are red. “Yes, well. Let’s get going then. We can’t keep our guests waiting.” He offers up his arm for you to take, and you gingerly rest your hands on him with a small smile, keeping your eyes lowered.

Thankfully the distance from your rooms to the foyer isn’t far as the walk there is awkwardly silent. But as soon as you enter and all eyes are on you two, it’s like a button is pressed that makes you immediately at ease and you intermingle easily with your guests. Waiters are milling about serving a selection of wines, and you drink just a tad more than you ought.

It’s nice to mingle with the courtesans and landowners like you used to, and you make a mental note to start attending tea again. You were anxious about them for nothing—they’ve known you since before you were the queen so they aren’t forming any new opinions of you.

Giggling, you weave your way around the crowd until you bump into a firm back. “Hello, my wife,” Seonghwa hums, holding you steady with amusement dancing behind his dark eyes. “I see you’re enjoying yourself.”

You blame the lingering burn of alcohol in your veins for the following actions. You lean onto his shoulder, a dazed smile pulling at your lips as you look up at your husband. “I am, Hwa.” The nickname tumbles naturally from your lips without a second thought although Seonghwa’s eyes widen for a split second. “Are you enjoying yourself too?”

“I’ll excuse myself, you spend time with your wife.” You hardly even register the minister of defence’s words as you wrap an arm around Seonghwa’s waist and press a kiss to the shoulder of his uniform. “Congratulations on your ascent to the throne, your majesty.”

Seonghwa bows as best he can with you attached to him before turning to you to place both his hands on your shoulders. “Do you need to go to bed? The party is slowing down a bit so you can if you’d like.”

You shake your head, subconsciously pouting. “No, I wanna wait for you first.” Your head leans against his chest and you can hear his heartbeat pick up slightly.

“...Alright. Let’s close this up nicely, YN.”

You don’t really know what’s happening, but you smile and farewell the last stragglers as the time passes. The alcohol is almost out of your system, but you stay close to Seonghwa, not ready to let him go quite yet. His arm around your waist makes your heart flutter and you look up at him as he waves away the last guest.

“Why are you staring at me?” he murmurs without even looking down and you chuckle to yourself, gaze unwavering.

“I like you, Hwa.”

It feels like time stands still as soon as the words fall from your mouth. Seonghwa’s eyes find your own and neither of you move for a long second. “...Are you still drunk?” You would find his question offensive, but his tone is hopeful so you can’t find it in your heart to.

“No, not for this,” you shake your hair and before he can stop himself, Seonghwa brushes your hair out of your face again. “I’m not in love, not yet. But I can safely say I like you. Especially if you keep touching me like this.”

Something must have overcome Seonghwa in that moment because he leans in and his grip on your waist tightens almost imperceptibly. “Well, in that case. I like you too. And I could touch you a lot more if you’d let me.” He practically whispers the last sentence, his lips almost ghosting over yours.

You blink at him, a mirror to just before the party, and a smile grows on your face. “I’d let you.”

Seonghwa straightens up immediately, a light blush dusting his cheeks and he calls over one of the servants and whispers something to them. When the servant nods and hurries off, Seonghwa turns back to you, a wolfish grin growing on his face. “Shall we head back to our chambers, my wife?”

Heat slowly crawls over your face as you nod eagerly and Seonghwa chuckles and cups your face tenderly, placing a kiss on your forehead before taking your wrist and leading you up the flights of stairs in the next breath.

The two of you burst into his room giggling and hands clasped. Seonghwa kicks the door closed and pulls you into his arms, his face buried in your hair as he breathes in your scent. “...You’re sure you’re not drunk?”

His voice is small, and you smile to yourself at the sound of it. Wriggling your way out of his grasp, you bring his slender hands to your lips and press a light kiss to the tips of his fingers. “I’m absolutely sure, my king.”

Seonghwa lets out another deep breath, stepping closer and leaning down to gently press his lips against yours. You taste of bitter wine, but he seems to enjoy it, brushing his tongue over the seam of your lips and you eagerly grant access. The two of you deepen the kiss as he slowly backs you to his bed. When your knees touch the mattress Seonghwa breaks away, his lips swollen and spit slicked.

“Strip?” he asks, his voice gravelly and your thighs clench at the sound of it. You reach behind you, attempting to reach the fasteners but failing. Seonghwa chuckles, spinning you around. “You’re so pretty, YN. I’m glad I get to share my life with you.” His hand rests on your shoulder blade as he undoes each clasp with his other hand.

Suddenly, his lips touch your shoulder bone and you gasp at the soft feeling. “Hwa–”

“I’d like to bend you over right now, but you’re too precious to be taken so roughly on our first time. I want to cherish you like the queen you are.” Seonghwa mouths at your hot skin, his hands moving up and down your sides as your dress falls to the floor, leaving you in your undergarments.

Your hands instinctively come up to cover yourself but Seonghwa’s reflexes are faster than yours and he grabs your wrists, holding you in place. “Don’t cover up, my wife,” he whispers, leaning up to kiss you sweetly. “Let me love you like you deserve.”

You look at him with wide eyes, before nodding the tiniest bit. Seonghwa isn’t satisfied, an eyebrow raising, and you squeak out a quiet “yes”. As soon as the word leaves your mouth, his mouth is reattached to your neck and his hips grind down onto your hip and you can feel his hard-on pressing into your thigh.

“Hwa, please,” you whine, feeling a burning in your core.

“Mmh, love it when you call me that,” Seonghwa murmurs, his hand coming down to unfasten his pants and shoving them down enough to free his cock. “There’s something about you that’s so fucking alluring. All I can think about is fucking you so well all you can do is think about me just as much as I do with you.”

He shifts, adjusting himself so he can grind his cock against your dripping folds and kiss you at the same time. The softness of his lips makes you smile and you throw your arms around him to bring him closer to you. For a moment, both of you are too caught up in your kiss, but then the tip of his dick gets caught in your fluttering hole and you moan into his mouth.

“Gods–” Seonghwa groans, hips stilling. You can feel every time his dick twitches inside of you. “Are you ready? Please–” The last word falls from his lips in a whisper, as if he’s almost embarrassed to beg.

Instead of a response, you hook your legs around his waist and pull his hips flush against you, immediately driving his cock deep inside you. You throw your head back at the feeling of it spearing into you, Seonghwa dropping his head to rest against your chest. “Fuck, you’re so– so perfect for me,” he stutters out, his voice low and heavy with lust. “Want to stay like this forever.”

“Less talking,” you order, twisting your hips to try and get him impossibly deeper inside of you. A crooked smile pulls at Seonghwa’s lips, and before you can say anything else, he pulls back and starts hammering into you like it’s his last day in the kingdom.

You can hardly get words out, only whines and mumbles, his cock reaching so deep inside of you. With every thrust, he hits that perfect spot inside of you and your hands dig into the thick fabric of his uniform top. “Ah– Seonghwa, you’re splitting me apart so good,” you moan, breath hot on his neck.

You swear your guts will be rearranged after this, his thick cock stretching you so perfectly. With every thrust, you can feel your walls squeezing so tightly around him and your hips are shaking with pleasure. Seonghwa’s eyes are trained on the junction where his cock is driving deep into you, mesmerised by the glistening slick covering both of your thighs.

Without warning, his slender fingers travel down your body to press at your clit. A gasp rips its way out of your throat and you moan embarrassingly loud, your hips kicking up. “Seonghwa–”

He leans in, his hand still rubbing small circles on your clit, pressing his lips sweetly to yours once again. “Shit, Hwa, you’re too perfect for me. Treating me so well.”

Seonghwa groans and bites your shoulder. “You look so pretty on my cock, my wife. You’d look so pretty full with me dripping out of you. I should show you every day how much I love you, hmm? It’s what you deserve. A pampered life as my wife, the queen by my side.” His teeth sink into your lower lip and his fingers speed up their ministrations.

“Ah– I’m close Seonghwa,” you moan into his mouth, and you can practically feel him smile against your lips.

With one particularly well-delivered thrust, Seonghwa growls, “Come for me, YN.”

Without much further prompting, just a twist of his fingers on your clit, you groan, back arching and your cunt clenching around Seonghwa as you fall over the edge of your orgasm, your husband following soon after. Ropes of searing hot come shoot deep inside of you and you let out a long sigh at the feeling. Seonghwa rests his forehead on yours as his hips slow to a stop, letting your orgasms wash over both of you completely.

You let your body completely relax on the mattress, staring up at the canopy of the bed. When you were preparing for the party, the last thing you expected was to get your brains fucked out by Seonghwa, but you won’t complain. You breathe out and relax, bringing your hand up to brush your fingers through his dark hair.

“Feeling good?” you ask your husband, and Seonghwa laughs, tilting his head up.

“Yeah. Come on, let’s get my lovely wife cleaned up. I have to change the sheets in the meantime.” Seonghwa gets up, stretching a little, and you can’t help but stare at the sliver of waist you see. You can feel his come dribbling out of you and instinctively you clench your thighs although you know you must get up soon enough.

But before you can even make any move to, Seonghwa leans down and scoops you up, carrying you over to your shared bathroom. “Ah– Hwa–” you scold, gripping onto his shoulders. “My legs work!”

Seonghwa laughs, nuzzling into your hair. “Then I should fix that next time.”

You laugh and smack at his shoulder. “Hwa, no, I like being able to move.”

Seonghwa shakes his head but doesn’t respond, just turning on the faucet and sitting you down in the water. “Is this all right for you?” he asks, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Come sit with me too, Hwa. You should get to relax too.”

“Ah, but the sheets,” Seonghwa tries, but you grab the hem of his shirt.

“We can use my quarters, Seonghwa.” You stare up at him with pleading eyes, and you can see him hesitate. “Please, Hwa?”

And just like magic, your words break down Seonghwa’s hesitation and he sighs, unfastening his shirt and throwing off his pants. As he lowers himself behind you, your hand reaches back to steady him.

As the two of you sit in the warm water, you take a chance and lean back against his firm chest. You can feel him stiffen and your breath catches in your throat, but in the end, he just relaxes and throws an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know, ever since I saw you on the wedding day, I was happy to have you as my wife,” Seonghwa hums, rocking you back and forth slightly.

You tilt your head up to smile at him sweetly. “And seeing you in your wedding robes looking every bit of a fairy, I was happy to have you as my husband.” Seonghwa leans down to press his lips against yours, brushing your hair behind your ear. You can feel his own smile against your mouth and your eyes flutter shut.

“Let’s stay like this for as long as we can.”

[theotherbuckley]

Hi I am demanding Bucktommy + pet names thank you

As you wish 🫡

The first time Tommy calls Buck baby he damn near trips over his own feet. They’re walking along the beach front, hands brushing together until Buck gets the courage to grasp Tommy’s hand in his own. Tommy smiles at him, eyes crinkling in the corner in a way that has Buck melting beside him. He has no choice but to beam back, a dusting of pink blooming across his cheeks. It’s simple and it’s easy and Buck can’t believe he gets to have this.

This is their 5th date, or well, okay it’s their 6th but Buck likes to pretend the first one never happened. Tommy rolls his eyes fondly when Buck tells him that, shakes his head and says it really wasn’t so bad, it’s part of their history, so to speak, and you can’t erase that. Buck agrees, but that doesn’t stop him feeling a little bad about it anyway. But, they’re here now and that’s what matters.

It’s a sunny day, a few clouds dotting around the otherwise bright blue sky. There’s a light breeze in the air, enough that it has Buck shivering slightly. Tommy laughs beside him, shaking his head softly, “It’s like 70 degrees, how are you cold?” Tommy asks gently.

“It’s cold!” Buck insists, pouting slightly.

“You’re always cold, baby, I don’t know how you ever survived in Pennsylvania,” Tommy says.

The only thing that stops Buck falling flat on his face is Tommy’s hand still holding his own, pulling him back when he stumbles. Tommy raises his eyebrow at him in question.

“B-baby?” Buck asks, a deep blush rising on his cheeks, trailing down his neck, “that’s uh, that’s new.”

Tommy tilts his head, eyes looking at Buck so softly in a way that only Tommy can. “You like it?” he questions.

Buck is nodding so fast he feels dizzy. “Uh, yup, yep, it’s uh good.”

Tommy grins. “Good, cause you’re my baby,” he says winking at Buck.

Bucks sure that his face must match the colour of his birthmark now, not only does the pet name make Buck feel like a puddle of goo and Tommy’s feet, but Tommy called him his. Buck really really likes the sound of that. Unable to resist any longer, Buck pulls Tommy closer by their joined hands and kisses him deeply, his free hand coming to rest on Tommy’s neck.

When he pulls back, after a few extra chaste kisses to his mouth, Buck says smiles, “Now I have to come up with a name for you.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Tommy replies.

“Hmmm,” Buck tilts his head in thought. “Darling.”

Tommy scrunches his nose, in a way that Buck finds ridiculously adorable but knows it means that one’s off the table. “Hm, okay, okay, what about sweetheart?”

Tommy shakes his head, “you’re the sweetheart.” Buck blushes but nods.

“Okay, then what about doll?”

“Are you 100 years old?” Tommy says scrunching his face tighter. “You’re not very good at this, he says fondly.”

“Uh, rude!” Buck says in mock offence. “See if I’ll give you a pet name now, Thomas.”

Tommy opens is mouth wide in fake shock. “You’re an idiot,” he says, playfully hitting Buck in the chest.

“Nuh-uh,” Buck says, laughing as he shakes his head. “I’m your baby.”

“Damn right you are,” Tommy says softly, raising their joined hands and kissing Buck’s knuckles. “All mine.”

[viperrot]

I also have a small request if possible. I'm thinking of something with old Leon x single mother reader. Leon is moving to a new neighborhood for a while and his neighbor is reader. I was thinking that the reader's daughter (possibly 2-3 years old) would see him once and be crazy about him, screaming all day that she wants to touch his hair 🤭🤭. And Leon being... well, Leon doesn't know how to react, but he starts to like the little one and little by little falls in love with the reader. I was thinking damnation Leon (he deserves so much love ugh😔🤭). Further, I'll leave it up to you to develop the story as you want. Kissss 😘😘😘😘

P.S. I love your stories❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

⇁apple pie | leon kennedy

Post RE4 leon s. kennedy x single-mother!reader

there's a new person living in the house next door, and your daughter is incredibly excited to make a new friend. so, what better way to welcome him than with a pie?

content includes: strangers to friends (to lovers)?, leon trying to be normal and failing, who let this guy talk to women?, reader checks out leon oops!, reader is described as feminine-dressed, reader is called momma, reader and baby is implied to be of asian background oops sorry i am asian so this just happened very naturally and i am a slave to my brain + too lazy to change it

not proofread i am sleepy

2497 words

song rec: "love me" by elvis presley

this is written with Vendetta, Damnation, and ID! leon in mind. i recently hung out with my little niece, who is named mei, so i just decided to name the little one mei as well! hope you enjoy, anon ^w^

"Momma, momma!" you hear your little one yelp from the front yard. You look up from your dishes, confused and fearful that your precious daughter had injured herself. Peeping out the window right above your sink, you immediately spot your tiny child pointing to her right with a sparkling eyes, her chubby little fingers extending as far as they could. You cock your head questioningly as you walk towards the wide-open front door to check what she was trying to show you, your hands patting against the fabric of your dress as you stepped out onto your wrap-around porch.

Hiding behind the vines of your overhead plants, you squint between the leaves to try and get a look of what your daughter, Mei, was trying to show you. Slowly, you make out what seems to be a man fumbling with his keys. His cocoa coloured hair swayed as his clumsily handled his keys in front of his door, his jaw tightening as he grew increasingly frustrated with himself. You watch him curiously, unknowing of your little one stumbling across the yard and onto the porch the stranger stood at.

"W-what the-" you hear the man stutter, dropping his keys as he frantically looks down at his feet. You can feel the corners of your eyes crinkle as you try to get a better look from the vines of your precious plants, and you realize that Mei had found herself tugging at the man's pants. You gasp and trip your way over to the front of his house, shoeless with your apron practically falling off.

"Mei-Mei, you can't just run after strangers!" You grow embarrassed the closer you get to them. You stood just in front of the porch when you finally get a good look of the man.

Your cherub of a daughter is basically climbing the poor man at this point, jumping up and down at his feet as she bumbles out her baby-gibberish—things like "Hair! Hair!" and "Do you like pie? Hey, mister! Pie?" coming out in one long string of rambling. Quickly, you go up the small set of steps and pick up Mei by the waist, tucking her into yourself as you sheepishly apologize to the stranger.

"I-I am so so so so sorry, sir, I didn't realize she was so excited to see you," you stammer out, trying to contain the little babe that was trying to climb out of your arms.

The man in front of you is gorgeous, standing at six-feet-two with those heavy boots of his. His dark brown hair framed his face to accentuate the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones, the deep blue of eyes piercing through your body as if you were simply a window. He stood tall and stiff, chest slightly puffed out in his black leather jacket and white t-shirt combo. The denim jeans he wore did nothing to hide his legs, the bulge of his thighs almost giving you whiplash. His eyes lock onto yours, his plump lips slightly parted.

“It’s alright,” he grunts. “She’s just a kid,” the man nods at the cooing cherub in your arms, who was craning her body backwards with her arms stretched out in attempt to touch his hair.

“S-still, I should have been watching her. Sh-she isn’t normally so… uh…”

“Excited? It’s alright, ma’am,” he lets out a soft chuckle, his head shaking side-to-side. You feel a blush begin to dust over your cheeks, and begin to to step backward.

“Y-yeah, excited. Anyways,” you clear your throat. “I’m still sorry. I-if you need anything, I’m right next door!” You bow slightly before booking it back to your home, bare feet treading against the lawn connecting the houses together. You feel a bit guilty for not introducing yourself to him, but you were so embarrassed by Mei, you couldn’t help but run away.

“Momma, go back! Back!” Mei began to cry, her lip quivering as she looked over your shoulder. Her little arms reached for the stranger, who was watching from his porch.

The door shut behind you, and your daughter let the tears flow. Distraught, you set your little one down on the couch just a few steps away from the door and dragged your thumbs across the apples of her cheeks, asking her softly about what was wrong. Mei hiccuped and sniffled, snot smearing across her tiny lips as she cried.

“What’s wrong, Mei-Mei?” You frown, bringing your apron up to her flat little nose to wipe away the boogers. She trembles as you comfort her.

“I-I wanna touch his hair,” she sniffles, her tiny palms rubbing against her cheeks to wipe the tears. “Can we p-please see him again, Momma,” Mei’s frown deepens, and you feel your heart break at the sight.

“Mei-Mei, he’s a stranger. We can’t talk to strangers—especially not ones who don’t seem to want to talk to us,” you explain to the child. Tears continue to fall.

“B-but, Momma-“

“Mei-Mei,” you sigh tiredly, unable to resist your sweet daughter. “How about this—if you help me make it, we can bake a pie for the mister tomorrow and maybe we can see him again, okay?” Your daughter visibly perks up at this, the waterworks ceasing as she looks up at you with her sparkling eyes.

“Really!? Do you promise, Momma!?” She gasps, her chubby hands squeezing her cheeks with excitement. You nod at her with a gentle smile, and she jumps out of her spot on the couch, flailing around the living room like a wound-up puppy.

Mei wouldn’t stop talking about the man for the rest of the night.

"This one! Oh, oh, no, I meant... this one!"

"Sweetheart, these are too red. We need green ones."

"But... these are green, Momma?"

"Oh dear..." you sigh heavily, taking the Fuji apple out of Mei's hands and setting it in your cart. "Stay close to me okay, Mei-Mei?" You tug at the little cowlick on top of her head softly, making sure she understood to not run off. She let's out a little noise of understanding and keeps a tight fist on the end of your dress, trailing behind you as you searched for the greenest apples you could find.

The drive home from the grocery store was filled with questions you didn't know how to answer. Things like...

"Do you think the mister likes My Little Pony?"

"I wonder if mister has any pets. He looks like he has a chihuahua!"

"If mister had a cutie mark, what do you think it'd be, Momma?"

And other weird things a child would ask. You tried your best to answer each question, but everything just leaded to another awfully confusing query. As you pulled the car into the driveway, you notice the sexy motorbike in the new neighbour's own, the black finish shining beneath the morning sun. You get out of the car, helping Mei right after before grabbing the groceries from the trunk of your two-thousand-five Honda Accord.

You unlock the door of your sweet little home, pushing it wide open with a bump of your hip. Mei skips inside, a small toy of Fluttershy in her hand and a plastic bag containing her "element of harmony" (a single red delicious apple, which is apparently the "honesty" element, or something along that line) in the other. The door clicks shut behind you two, and you trip into the kitchen after you kick off your shoes. Setting the bags down on the counter, you sort out the groceries before calling for your little one.

"Mei-Mei! It's time to start baking, sweetie," you hear her clumsy feet tip-tap against the hardwood and smile brightly when her head peeps into the kitchen. Her honesty apple was clutched tight in her hands as she walked up to you giddily, excited to get to work. You pick her up and set her on top of the clear section of the counter.

You trust Mei with measuring the dry ingredients, with some supervision of course. Together, you make the pie crust and allow it to chill in the fridge as you make the filling. Mei is in the living room at this point, eyes glued to the television as she embarks on a friendship adventure with her pony friends.

Silently humming a nameless tune to yourself, you peel and core the small Granny Smith apples, dicing them into little cubes before setting them in a brown-sugar mixture. By noon, you had shaped the pies into the shape everyone knows them to be—apple shaped apple pies!

The delicate little balls were placed on the baking tray carefully, not wanting to ruin the perfect shape. You brushed the tops with an egg-yolk-and-water mixture before putting the cute pies into the oven, setting a timer for 15 minutes. Proud of yourself for cleaning up the generous mess in your beloved kitchen, you open up the window above the sink to let the air in.

While you lounged on the couch with your beloved little dumpling, you're unknowing to the man next door, tinkering away beneath his ebony Dodge Coronet 440. The scent of the sweet apple pie wafted to his nose, making him stop his repairs on his old model. Shaking his head, he tries to ignore the temptation to knock on his pretty neighbour's front door and ask for a slice.

The heat from the oven tickled your face as you carefully pulled the baking sheet out of the contraption, setting it down on the kitchen counter that was covered with a washcloth to avoid damaging the countertop. Mei watched you with a square-shaped tupperware in her chubby hands, eager to get the pie to the stranger next door.

You slide the oven-mittens off your hands and proudly look at your apple-apple-pies. Turning your attention to Mei, you pick her up so she can look too.

"Aren't they pretty, puddin'?" You coo. "You made these!" Mei claps her hands together happily, tupperware long forgotten with stars in her eyes as she beams at the sight of the apple-apple-pies.

"Can we take it to mister now?" the babe pratically vibrates in your grip with excitement. You nod at her and set her down on the floor, deciding to fish out a new tupperware box from one of your cabinets. When you find one of the proper size, you pack up one of the pies before you usher Mei out of the door after putting on your shoes, handing the container to her to carry.

Walking across the lawn, Mei immediately notices the open garage and makes a beeline towards the mass of legs beneath a black vintage car.

"Mister!! Mister!!!!" she practically yells, stomping over to the man beneath the car.

You can't help but admire the sight of the stranger. His thighs were practically ripping the denim of his jeans how tight they were on him, his white tank-top creeping up his stomach to reveal a small patch of hair just below his belly-button. With a grunt, he slides out from beneath the Dodge model, grease staining his entire upper body.

"Hey...?" He looks up at his from his spot on the ground, rubbing the stubble on his chin confused as he sits straight on the concrete.

"H-hi," you wave awkwardly, standing a safe distance away from him with Mei. You crouch down to your daughters level. "My daughter helped me make a pie for you as a little welcome gift. Go on, sweetheart," you pat her back softly, urging her to walk up to the newcomer. Like an excited puppy, Mei marches over to the handsome man, presenting the tupperware to him like a trophy.

"My momma put lotsa love into this, so you better like it, mister!" she demands, and the man chuckles softly at the order.

"I definitely will, kiddo. Apple pie's my favourite," he smiles gently before setting his sights on you. His blue eyes were illuminated perfectly by the sun as he looked over to you. "Thank you. My name's Leon, by the way. Uh, Leon Kennedy," he nods over at you as he takes the container from Mei's hands.

"O-oh, right! We didn't really introduce ourselves yesterday," you blush, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. You quickly introduce yourself and your daughter, stuttering all the while. It had been quite a long time since you had spoken to a man.

"Nice to meet you," Leon lets out a low laugh as he looks down at the pie. His eyes widen when he realizes it's shaped like an actual apple, but he makes no move to say anything as a twinge of pink crawls up his neck. "This looks... delicious," he drools, and you thank him for the compliment.

"Best eat it now! It's tastes the best when it's fresh," you smile, and he hums in response.

"U-uh, I think I'll eat it now, actually. Needed to take a break anywa-ngh—!" Mei slams her pudgy palm on top of Leon's mop of brown hair, causing the poor man to grunt. It didn't hurt, but it clearly caught him by surprise. You panic just like the day before and attempt to pull your cherub away from your neighbour, embarrassment filling your body.

"Mei-Mei! I told you that you can't just touch people like that!" You scold her lightly.

"Agh, don't yell at her—It's alright," the brunette assures you, standing up. His boots click against the concrete as he stands close.

"Please, excuse her, she's just very excited to have a new friend."

"Hey, hey—it's fine. Here," Leon ducks his head down enough for Mei to reach out. She turns her body in your arms, hands outstretching to thread into the man's hair. Unconsciously, you move closer to Leon as your daughter plays with his hair. The sight made your heart melt.

When Mei has her fill, Leon stands straight and gives you a warm smile. He has a look in his eyes you couldn't quite place, but you choose not to think about it.

"I, uhm..." you think of what to say, your eyes darting from each feature on his stubbly face. "We won't bother you now. I-if you need, something, we'll be a knock away!" you nervously ramble, slowly backing away from the gentleman.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," he coughs out, a dust of pink brushing the tip of nose. Leon watches as you turn your back to him, wiggling his fingers at the little one that waved at him from your shoulders. He walks over to the tupperware sitting on the floor of his garage after you walk into your house, entering his own with the pie in his hands.

You don't know about how the tupperware was licked clean, not even a crumb of the crust to be seen as the container is left on Leon's dining table. The next day, a knock on your door distracts you from your dishwashing.

He wasn't lying about apple pie being his favourite.

yeah im definitely going to turn this into a fic series or something i love domestic fluff i am so normal about dilf leon IM MAKING THIS HAPPEN

[soaphawk]

bright blue, honey brown

w/c: 5.5k warnings: canon-typical violence, blood and injuries, hospitals written for ghoap soulmay 2024 <3 | posted to ao3

It’d been said that when you and your soulmate first touch, the colour of their eyes will bloom across your skin. Simon had seen it before, he knew it was real, but that didn’t change the fact that experiencing it for himself was infinitely more terrifying than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Soap, keep up!” Ghost barked, long legs propelling him forward. Occasional grunts would meet their stumbling footfalls as they fled through the treeline, relying on compasses to find their way back to relative safety. Thankfully, the sounds of barking and machine gun fire behind them had ceased, leaving the woods silent save for their laboured breaths and the whispers of the windy evening air. 

”Right behind ye, Lt,” Soap wheezed, his stride unsteady and slowing behind him.

“Y’allright?” Quickly surveying the area for hidden threats, Ghost slowed his sprint, giving his sergeant a moment to catch up. 

“Solid,” Soap replied, voice still strained in a way that had Ghost narrowing his eyes as he limped closer. One hand clutched his side, chest heaving with shaky breaths. Breaths that rattled in his chest, that set the hairs on the back of Ghost’s neck on edge with how… exhausted Soap sounded. “How much… further?”

”Half a klick. Come on, we’re both proper rank.” Ghost frowned under his mask as he watched Soap stumble forward for a few steps before tripping. He reached out, grabbing at his sergeant’s arm to steady him before he could fall. “Almost ‘ere, Johnny. Come on, put your arm around me.”

”Didnae take ye fer th’ touchy-feely type, sir.” Soap offered a cheeky smile as Ghost pulled his uninjured arm over his broad shoulders. 

Ghost suppressed an eye-roll while he slid an arm around the other man’s waist. “Yeah, well, you’re not gonna quit your wingin’ unless I fuckin’ carry you, MacTavish.” Not that I’d mind it one bit, holding you close like that. I’d make sure nothing else could ever hurt you. 

Together—with Ghost supporting most of Soap’s weight—they trudged onwards. No words passed between them, save for his sergeant’s pained grunts every so often. Out of the corner of his eye, Ghost watched him grit his teeth, face unusually pale. Soap’s silence worried him; the man barely stopped talking, even in the middle of an op. Nope, don’t like this, he thought, clenching his jaw. Usually can’t get him to shut the fuck up. Both lost in their own thoughts, Ghost’s kept tearing back and forth between the mission at hand and wanting those distressed noises to stop, because something hurt his Johnny.

”Almost there,” Ghost murmured, as much for his benefit as for Soap’s. The rattling breaths had weakened slightly, only reminding Ghost that he couldn’t slow, couldn’t falter, Johnny needed him. Thankfully, the safe house drew closer, hurrying their steps towards it as much as either man dared. Ghost left Soap stationed just outside of the front door, gun in hand while he worked to crack it open before sweeping the rooms one by one. 

Once he felt satisfied that the area was safe, Ghost finally helped Soap inside, settling him on a rarely used, dusty sofa, wishing for something more comfortable as Soap winced. He himself stayed standing a few paces away as a gloved hand reached for his comms.

“Watcher, this is Bravo 0-7, how copy?” 

“Good to hear your voice, Ghost.” Laswell’s voice crackled through his earpiece. “What’s your status?”

”Made it to the safe house. Just need an ETA on extraction. Soap’s hurt, gonna get him patched up in the meantime.”

”Roger that. Stand by for ETA. I’ll get a bird out to you ASAP.”

”Gh’st…?” 

His heart fell as he turned, seeing Soap—no, Johnny—even more inexplicably pale. Slowly, too slowly, he followed the line of Soap’s newly exposed chest, all the way down to the red blossoming beneath his shirt. Forcing his eyes back up, Ghost’s gaze locked on his sergeant, noting with almost clinical detachment how fearful his bright blue orbs looked in this moment. No, Johnny… you’re not supposed to be afraid. You’re not supposed to be hurt! 

Ghost wracked his brain, every detail of the mission flashing through in overdrive until—

“Think ‘m bleedin’…”

That snapped Ghost back into action. Panic flooded his veins as the stain grew larger, crashing to his knees in front of Johnny in an instant. No longer feeling like everything existed in slow-motion, his entire thought process honed in on his friend, his teammate, his…

No, no. Focus on the task at hand. 

“No fuckin’ shit,” Ghost heard himself say before he fumbled single handedly with his comms. ”Watcher, we’re gonna need that evac sooner rather than later,” he rasped into his mic, pulling Johnny’s shirt up and exposing the bloody hole torn in his side.

The man in question went quiet, save for a pained whimper. “Soap, I need you to keep talking!”

Soap grunted softly as Ghost’s fingers probed the wound, already reaching for his emergency kit as crimson blood flowed like an angry tide across his fingers. Frustrated, he tore his skeleton gloves off, exposing his pale digits to the thick, warm fluid. 

“‘S nothin, sir. Dinnae need t’ fuss…” Soap groaned, eyes focusing and unfocusing. 

A low, pained whine fell from his lips as Ghost pressed hard against the gunshot wound, using his free hand to pack as much gauze as he could into the mess—anything to stop the bleeding—terror thrumming through his mind at the fact that, with the amount of blood pooling under his fingers, he may very well lose the man he’d inexplicably fallen in lov—

”Bloody hell, Soap!” 

Even with the wound plugged, the bleeding wouldn’t stop. Everywhere he looked, Ghost saw red—blood red—and watched as discoloured marks bloomed over where their bare skin touched. Fear truly gripped him as Johnny gasped again, a pained noise but also—

—shocked as he grabbed onto Ghost’s bare wrist, holding on so hard he nearly crushed the bones. 

“Huh, that’s never… happen’d b’fore…” Ghost refocused his gaze, blinking down at where they linked in shock. Down to where the Scot’s hand gripped, as blue—bright blue, the exact colour of Soap’s eyes—spread across Ghost’s skin like ink. A shaky breath in and Ghost pressed his fingers against one of the few unmarred spots on Soap’s chest, watching with horrified fascination as honey brown bloomed across the pallor. 

The exact same way that, as a kid, as a teenager, as an adult, Ghost had been told people found their soulmates. The exact colour of their eyes blooming across the skin wherever they happen to meet.

My soulmate…?

Johnny… Johnny’s my… my soulmate?

But… this can’t be the first time we’ve ever touched, right? It can’t be, this has gotta be a dream, there’s no way Johnny’s bleeding out in my arms and I’m just now realizing he’s my bloody fucking soulmate—!

“Looks like yer eyes, Si…” Soap slurred out, lidded gaze trained on where Ghost still pressed against his ravaged skin. “S’nice. Like it… on…”

”Johnny—“ Whatever Ghost wanted to say next died in his throat as Johnny’s eyes rolled back, his body sagging against the cushions. “Soap? Johnny! Shit!” Scrambling for his comms once again, his hands shook as they depressed the button. “Watcher, we need medevac now! Soap’s down!”

— — — — — — —

While he swirled patterns over Johnny’s arm with his bare fingers, Simon did his best to not think about the marks left behind on his mother’s face.

Every time honey brown followed his carreses, images of father’s handprints leaving green splotches in their wake flashed through his mind. An almost perfect contrast to his mother’s stark white skin, covered in a collage of purple and yellow bruises. 

It had always been a distinct fascination. Something that most people craved—some even going their entire lives searching for it—yet one of the most terrifying things Simon could imagine. 

Riley’s didn’t do love, they didn’t deserve soulmates. Loving another in that way only brought pain and heartache. Especially in this line of work, especially because his bloody fucking soulmate just so happened to be Johnny Fucking MacTavish, the biggest and most wonderful pain in his arse he’d ever had.

Simon Riley-MacTavish. Nice ring to it.

Fuck, Johnny deserved better than him. If it weren’t for Simon, Johnny wouldn’t be lying broken in this bed, relying on a machine to breathe for him. If he had just been faster, kept his finger on the trigger and kept firing even as they ran for their fucking lives—

Simon’s parents had been soulmates. Their relationship ended in tears and bloodshed, bruises in the shape of hands that were supposed to love and nurture and not break and destroy. In blood on the floor and broken bones, shattered as easily as glass. As easily as a heart.

A lone tear beaded in the corners of Simon’s eyes. He had those same hands.

How many things—beautiful things—had he destroyed with these hands?

He couldn’t stand to look at them, knowing how much pain and fear and hurt and anguish they caused. Slowly, carefully, he pulled the gloves back on, waiting for his body to stop shaking. He didn’t want to look at the bare skin anymore, the scars and the bruises and the crooked finger that broke and never healed correctly under his father’s boot.

Tommy and Beth were soulmates, too. And while Tommy never laid a hand against her or their son in anger, he knew those demons haunted his brother like they stalked Simon himself. One of the few things they could bond over as adults, something they maybe could have recovered from together until…

Every good thing in Simon’s life disappeared. How many more things could he lose before he lost the rest of himself? Before Simon Riley finally gave himself over for the Earth to swallow whole, until there was no point where Ghost ended and Simon began anew?

Simon rested his head on Johnny’s chest with a soft sigh. Soulmates were for good people, like the man laying stone still in this bed. Not for people who destroyed every good thing in their lives.

It wouldn’t stop him from loving the man before him, though. It hadn’t, in any case. Simon had loved Johnny from the moment the annoying, pain-in-the-arse Scot managed to worm his way into Simon’s life. 

Fucking hell.

Simon watched the slow rise and fall of Johnny’s breathing for a few long minutes. This would be as close as he ever got to the man he’d inexplicably fallen for ever again. He’d already failed to keep Johnny at arm’s length, instead working to pull the man closer, to protect him under his mask. A silent shadow, daring anyone to come close to the man he so desperately wanted to be his. The man he loved more than anything he’d ever loved before.

Simon had promised himself he’d just… love from afar, that’s all. It’d be enough.

He could stay out of Johnny’s life, but still keep him safe.

And yet here Johnny lay, straddling the barrier between life and death, all because of him. Simon had been foolish to believe he could be the knight in shining armor, whether as Ghost or not. But he couldn’t deny being helplessly caught in Johnny’s orbit, like a moth to a flame every damn time.

He hadn’t been fast enough. Maybe if he could have stopped the bleeding earlier or at least realized something was wrong—

“I’m so sorry, Johnny.” Simon whispered.

The silence didn’t respond.

Simon didn’t deserve a response, anyway.

I love you, he longed to say.

He couldn’t.

It wasn’t safe to be loved by a man like Ghost.

— — — — — — —

Honey brown flashed across Soap’s mind and his skin in his dreams. Every time he felt like he tumbled further into the abyss, warm eyes and a gentle touch pulled him back. A deep, rough voice with words he couldn’t make out played over and over, but the emotions were clear: fear, urgency, care, love…

“…hear me? Soap?”

Head swimming, Soap only groaned and tried to bat the presence away. His hand seared when he lifted it, eyes blinded by the bright white light as he hissed in pain and screwed them shut tight.

”Sorry, son,” the voice gained some clarity at the same time the light shining through his eyelids dimmed, making way for a familiar beard and kind blue eyes when he dared crack his open again. Disappointment speared his gut for a second. For a moment, he had been convinced that Simon was sitting silent vigil beside him. ”Still with me, lad?”

”Yessir,” Soap slurred, tongue heavy and dry in his mouth. Without needing to ask, Price tipped a straw in his direction, allowing him to take long, greedy sips of ice cold water. He gasped as soon as it pulled away. “Thanks.”

”Gave us quite a scare,” Price fake-scolded, voice and expression betraying the fear he clearly tried to push away with a joke. “I told you boys to not break yourselves.”

”Aww, wasnae intentional!” Soap pouted at his captain, pulling a quokka-like smile from the older man. 

“Sure it wasn’t. Danger magnet,” an affectionate hair ruffle followed the captain’s words before his voice dropped to a more serious tone. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I…” Soap trailed off, scouring his thoughts. All he could find were disjointed memories and fragments of the op after everything had gone to shit… “Not much. I—fuck, where’s Si? Is he okay?!”

The heart monitor next to the men beeped louder as Soap fought to sit upright, only stilling when Price physically held him down, pushing his shoulders as deep into the bed as he dared. “He’s fine! He’s fine, John. Battered, but he’s fine. I promise.”

Soap breathed a sigh of relief at that. Price wouldn’t lie to him, not at the same time he called him by his actual name. Ghost’s—no, Simon’s?—face flashed through his mind, so ridiculously expressive even behind the mask, but only to those who really took the time to understand.

And Soap did, because he loved the daft bastard. Simon, without a second thought, saved his life yet again… someday maybe he’d get to repay the favour. At the very least, though, he could tell his lieutenant—the man he loved more than anything—thank you with a round of drinks once he was free. “Where’s he at?”

“Sent him to his room to rest. Same thing you need to be doing, ay?” Price replied gruffly. Soap laughed as he leaned over to ruffle his hair again, leaning into the contact with a barely restrained sigh of pleasure. As much as he wanted to see Simon, to beg Price to drag the man to the medical wing… Soap couldn’t deny how tired he felt, eyelids drooping steadily as his captain’s hand radiated warmth into his skin. 

“Just sleep, son. I’ll tell Simon you’re up. Kyle, too. We’ll be back soon enough.”

Soap nodded, mumbling something soft and unintelligible under his breath. He drifted to sleep with a smile, the memory of his lieutenant’s beautiful brown eyes front and centre in his dreams. Simon would be here when he woke up, and he’d reach out and hug the big bastard and pull him close, finally brush their lips against one anothers…

— — — — — — —

Soap—once he finally escaped the clutches of the medical wing—seethed his entire way back to the 141’s barracks. 

Soldiers all but leapt out of the way as he barrelled down the hallways, flinging the doors open and stalking outside. Sunlight kissed his skin, rare warmth radiating across his body after weeks of sterile white lights, but he couldn’t give a single shit. 

After weeks of seeing nothing but scrubs, blue masks, physical therapy… his best friend, his lieutenant, the man he bloody fucking loved, hadn’t come to see him once. 

More than just angry, Soap’s heart ached like someone had taken a vise to it and squeezed. Price and Gaz had stopped by more times than he could count, preventing him from going entirely insane in his room, but never once did he see the man in the mask. 

Every time he asked after Simon, their smiles faded, heads shook as they told him we tried and he’s not talking to anyone and he hasn’t been back to his room in days. 

Furious, Soap’s feet brought him all the way to the lieutenant’s office… but he couldn’t bring himself to knock, to shoulder his way in, to demand the man’s time. His radio silence made it obvious; Ghost didn’t want to see Soap.

Except… Soap saw Ghost. Saw flashes of Simon on base every single day. In the mess, in the showers, training recruits, sparring… 

And every day that passed had the pain in his chest taking root, expanding through his veins, twisting his smile into something ugly. Something venomous to hide the hurt festering in his heart. Something far, far from the roses he’d assumed would bloom once he finally got off his dumb arse, stopped waiting around for Simon to be less oblivious, and told the man he loved him. 

Oh, the roses grew all right. Except no flowers could be seen, instead the thorns grew bigger and bigger until they choked his life from the inside out.

Johnny missed Simon. 

He wanted Simon.

Needed him, really. Just needed to know it was all okay.

Except Soap also wanted to clock the man. 

Seriously, not a single visit? Not a single word from the man every time Soap begged Price and Gaz for information? What, did Ghost think him weak and pathetic, was that it? Had Soap done something wrong, something so heinous that ‘the Ghost’ couldn’t stand to be seen with him?

Those thoughts plagued Soap’s restless nights. He already struggled with turning his brain off enough to sleep, especially without the exhaustion of running ops and coming back bone tired. Instead, he tossed and turned, ruminating after the sting of his nightmares faded enough that he could focus on anything aside from the sting of rejection. 

Why didn’t Simon want him anymore? Was he that angry about the op? Disappointed in Soap for fucking it up? Did he discover how Soap truly felt about him and became too disgusted to even be seen near the other man? 

At first, Soap thought he’d just imagined the whole thing. That the bright blue across Simon’s wrist had just been a trick of a dying man’s thoughts. Some fucked up mainfestation of his dreams and fantasies to soothe him to the other side. Or maybe that the honey brown across Soap’s belly had just been dried blood captured at a different angle. 

The thought plagued him, so much so that sleep became nothing more than a fleeting thought, a passing entity in the night just out of reach. Just like Simon.

After Soap’s fourth night in a row storming through the 141 barracks towards their small gym, bloodying his barely healed knuckles over and over on the punching bag, Price caught up to him. He didn’t resist as the captain peeled him off the floor, leading him back to the office with the promise of some (decaf) coffee and conversation.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Price finally asked, voice thick with sleep.

“I…” Soap audibly gulped. How could he even say what he needed to? That he was a lovesick puppy whose owner kicked him to the curb? “Ma heid’s mince. Did I do summat wrong? ‘S that why Si won’t look at me?”

Price sighed softly, offering a kind smile. “You did nothing wrong. Simon’s… struggling.” Soap rolled his eyes hard in response.

“Am too! Fuck, am the one who’s bin in t’ hospital!” He managed to grind out. “I dinnae understand… jus’ wanna know how I can fix… whatever ah did. Wanna ken why he… won’t talk t’ me anymore. Hurts.”

“I know. But beating yourself bloody isn’t going to fix it,” Price replied, taking a drag from his cigar. “I’ll talk to him when I see him again, ay? See if I can figure it out?”

“Sir…”

“Let me do this for you, son.”

“I… I think he might be my… my soulmate, sir.”

Price didn’t seem surprised, only humming softly in response. “What makes you say that?”

“I cannae remember much, but in t’ safe house… he was jus’ patchin’ me up. Coulda sworn I saw blue on ‘is hands. Like mah eyes. More ah think on it, though… Dunno. Maybe it was jus’ a dream. A hope.”

Silence spanned the room for a few minutes. “Get some rest, Johnny,” was all Price replied, though the knowing look in his eye reassured Soap slightly. “We’ll sort this out.”

With nothing to do the next day, Soap sat in his room. At first, he’d tried sketching, but photos of Simon’s handsome face stared back up at him. He slammed the book closed in disgust.

Movies were out, no way he’d be sitting still long enough to focus.

Training was still off the schedule for the most part, Price adamant that he rest and not strain himself any further, lest the stitches holding his guts together popped.

Soap glared at the wall as the same anger from the past weeks welled inside of him, fidgeting enough that it didn’t matter what he did, he just needed out. 

At first, he walked aimlessly, picking a direction and letting the cool air soothe his mind. It didn’t matter where he ended up, so long as he found a spot where he could sit and scream and fall apart with no one there to witness it. That way, when he went back, he could smile again and pretend like everything was fine.

That’s how Soap found himself on a scarce path leading towards the edge of the forest. A spot Simon himself had taken him to, the same place where he knew the man would sit to have some quiet. And seeing the lone figure on the ridge, clad in all black with his blonde hair exposed—

—Soap saw red.

”Oi, ye bloody bawbag!” Soap screamed, watching the figure jump with a sadistic kind of glee. He already had the upper hand if he’d startled the man. 

“What, ye think ye’re so bloody fuckin’ special, ‘s that it? Made it oot in one piece, no thanks to yer eejit of a sergeant?! Are ye so bloody ashamed of me that ye couldnae once come t’ visit? Bloody fuckin’ ‘ell, sir, am I that much of a burden to ye?!”

Drawing closer and closer, Soap kept hurling his anger and hurt at the man, reaching out to grab at the lieutenant as soon as he could, intent on bowling the man over and over into the dirt until the aggression worked its way out of his system. He ground his teeth as he watched Ghost’s shoulders shake, the sound coming from the bastard almost like a laugh.

“What, not gonnae turn an’ face me? ‘S that it? ‘S this fuckin’ funny t’ ye?! Seein’ me loose my bloody fuckin’ mind?!”

Close enough to the man, Soap all but slapped down onto Ghost’s shoulder, the feeling of skin on skin reverberating up his arm as he gripped as tight as he could, trying to force the larger man to turn and meet his gaze. 

Ghost—no, Simon?—curled in on himself, flinching away with a harder shudder.

He wasn’t laughing at Soap. He was sobbing.

Simon was… crying? Startled, Soap dropped his grip in an instant, reeling back. 

”Si?” Soap voiced hesitantly. “I—“

”Johnny…” 

All of his anger melted away at the fear and despair in the man’s voice. Days, no weeks, of built-up frustration drained from his bones, leaving weary exhaustion in its wake. Johnny crossed to crouch in front of Simon, angling so he could see his face. “Simon, what—can ah hug ye?”

Simon pulled away the moment Johnny reached forward, as soon as his fingers brushed the man’s chest. “You’re still healing, I don’t—“

“No, ye don’t get t’ do that!” Johnny barked, momentary softness forgotten as he grabbed for the taller man, ignoring his shaky, fearful breaths. “Why’d ye fuckin’ leave me?!”

God, how he hated that his voice broke on the last word.

Finally, Johnny grabbed Simon’s hand, his pale skin nearly glowing in the waning light without his usual skeleton gloves on. Part of him wanted to marvel at how rough Simon’s fingers were, but didn’t get the chance as time slowed, a belated gasp falling from his mouth as the skin beneath his turned bright blue—

—and where they touched, Johnny’s own turned honey brown.

The world went silent and still. Both men locked eyes, staring at each other, souls laid bare. So much swirled through Simon’s expression: fear, desperation, hope, terror, love…

”Si?” Johnny breathed. “It… it wasnae a dream… ye’re… ye’re my—“

”I’m sorry…” Simon whimpered out, cutting Johnny off with a voice so small and scared it cracked his heart. “I… you don’t… I’m so sorry!” 

Johnny didn’t move, didn’t react as Simon curled in on himself, pulling his limbs away to tuck them into safety. He sounded so scared, breaking Johnny’s heart. His soulmate… scared of him?

Had… had he actually done something wrong? Why was Simon afraid of him?

Shit, shit, shit shit shit—

”What are ye on about, love?” Johnny asked, wanting to reach his free hand across and gently grasp his soulmate’s chin. He couldn’t, though, not when tears cascaded down Simon’s cheeks, weak gasps punching from his chest as he screwed his eyes shut. Not when the taller man shuddered and shook and made such unhappy noises, like the thought of being touched was more harrowing than torture.

“You don’t… want me…” Simon managed to sob out, crying openly now. “I… you deserve… more…!”

”Oh, Si…” Johnny sighed. He teared up too, reaching out to rest a hand on his soulmate’s knee. He frowned as Simon flinched again. Definitely fear. My poor bonnie lad… I knew he’d had a tough go of it, but this… my poor bonnie lad. “Can I hug ye, please? Promise, jus’ wanna hug. Not gunna yell, am so sorry, Si…”

Simon didn’t respond for several moments, long enough that Johnny nearly asked again until he found himself with a lapful of anxious, upset, bloody fucking brilliant bonnie Manc. Didn’t matter that it hurt, that the strain on his body definitely popped a few stitches, Johnny took it in stride. 

He wrapped his arms around Simon’s body, pulling the man as close as he could. Wishing he could draw his soulmate into his body, to settle him within his ribcage right next to his heart where Simon belonged, protected and loved and wanted forever. One hand drifted up, carding through the short blonde hair as Johnny guided his head to rest in the crook of his neck. 

“I’m so sorry,” Simon sniffled, trembling in Johnny’s arms. 

“Simon Riley, I’ve spent my entire life searching for ye, an’ ye were here all along? Beautiful bastard,” Johnny breathed out in awe. “Why are ye sorry? Ye’re so bloody perfect for me already. My bonnie lad—”

“No…” Simon sobbed, “No, you… you deserve… better…! Not… broken… worthless…”

“Shh, love. None of tha’, now.” Johnny stroked his hair again, relishing in the feeling of Simon slowly relaxing against his chest. Cradling the man close, brushing his nose across the ridge of his hairline. “Ye’re bloody perfect, baby. How could I want anyone else, knowing I got lucky ‘nough fer someone as bonnie as ye?”

Simon’s struggles faded and fell away under Johnny’s soft words, now clutching him so tight he knew for sure both would be sporting bruises. It didn’t matter, though. He had his soulmate in his arms, the man he’d pined after for so long now… chest swelling with love and care as Simon fell apart.

Despite it all, Simon trusted him enough to fall apart like this.

Johnny wasn’t sure how long they spent there, Simon crying until no more tears came out. His sharp, shuddering breaths eased off, and he didn’t pull away or flinch as Johnny cupped his face, wiped his bright red cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, that same fear and guarded hope simmering in Simon’s eyes. “There ye go… such a bonnie lad. Please… Simon… please tell me ye want this too…”

”Yes,” Simon whimpered, squeezing tighter as if Johnny would disappear into thin air should he let go. “I’m so scared…” He didn’t need to say anything else for Johnny to understand. He’d known the man long enough to know some of his dour history, able to fill in the blanks even without the added context. 

In that moment, Johnny silently vowed to never, ever become another facet of Simon’s nightmares. He breathed that promise into the air, holding the man just a little bit tighter.

”I know, m’eudail. Ye dinnae need t’ tell me anythin’ noe, just… lemme hold ye? Waited so long for ye… hoped ye’d look in mah direction someday…”

”Don’t let go…” More tears brimmed in Simon’s vulnerable, bonnie eyes, threatening to fall until Johnny leaned in to press a soft kiss to his soulmate’s forehead. “Always wanted to… hold you like this. Couldn’t… didn’t deserve it. Don’t… don’t let go please Johnny, I can’t—”

”Never. We’ll figure it out together, aye?” 

Simon nodded at Johnny’s words, pulling away slightly to look at him again with barely disguised wonder. 

Johnny smiled in response, the edges of his lips tugging up into the most genuine, loving smile he’d ever worn. ”I’ve got ye. Not gunna let go, not noe tha’ I finally get t’ have ye.”

“Don’t… don’t wanna hurt you…” Simon rasped pitifully, glaring down at his hands when he pulled away to settle back on the ground. He remembered, back when they’d first become close, how Simon told him about his ‘father’s’ hands. Johnny had only been teasing when he said something along the lines of Ghost having talons instead of fingers to explain why he always wore the gloves… An idea sparked in Johnny’s head at that, making a soft noise to get the blonde’s attention.

“Can I see yer hands, Si?”

Simon cautiously extended them out, frowning as Johnny took them in his. “Ye always cover them, no matter what.” Turning them over, brushing the pads of their fingers together, tracing the veins and tendons and muscles… he pressed a soft kiss to every spot he could before holding them tight to his chest. 

And how bloody fucking beautiful the colours blooming across their bodies were as Johnny laced their fingers together, gripping tight. “Bonnie hands, attached to mah bonnie lad. Ye’re a gowk if ye think am not gunna love these hands when ye’re always protectin’ me with ‘em. Strong an’ soft an’ so fuckin’ braw, mo ghraidh.”

Simon’s gaze shifted, softened. Slowly, he reached out, pulling Johnny close again and nuzzling against his head, still sniffling, but calmer. Johnny petted at the blonde locks once more, feeling Simon hum in appreciation against his skin. There’d be plenty more time later for discussion. For declarations of love, promises of support, lazy mornings spent in bed until they needed to face the world again. For now, he had Simon in his arms. Exactly what Johnny needed, and—by the feeling of the blonde sagging against him, nuzzling his shoulder now before shyly planting his own tender kiss to the skin to watch the colour blossom—exactly what Simon needed too.

“Come on, m’eudail. ‘S gettin’ cold oot, an am ready t’ coorie in a bigger bed.”

Simon chuckled softly, wiping away tears as they both stood. “It’s not that much bigger.”

“But ‘s gunna have ye in it.” Johnny wiggled his eyebrows, pulling a genuine laugh from Simon as they walked together, hand in hand. He took the lead in bringing them to the barracks, catching a quick glimpse of a smiling Price before the captain disappeared. Pushing Simon into his room, Johnny kicked the door shut and made sure it locked before crowding Simon against the bed, watching with wide eyes as the blonde melted under his hands.

After so long waiting, Johnny finally bridged the distance between his and Simon’s lips, brushing them tenderly at first before diving in for more. Intent on searing his name, his touch, his love into Simon’s skin one kiss at a time.

Their bodies melded together as they curled up, hands grasping everywhere they could reach. Tangled together, Johnny kissed away each and every one of Simon’s lingering tears, a smile on his lips as he whispered every single loving word he could think of to the man he loved beyond all reason.

Finally, when the night began to draw to a close, when they yawned more than spoke, they crowded together on a single pillow. Their twin breaths mixed in the space between them, eyes filled with wonder and joy. 

For once, even if just for a moment, the stars had aligned to make everything perfect. Even knowing they had jobs to do and a world to face when the sun rose again, an unspoken promise filled the air between the two soulmates. They had finally found each other, the rest could come later. 

Nothing mattered to Johnny in this moment except for the—no, his—Ghost. 

His bonnie, braw, pure dead fucking brilliant Ghost.

[scarletttries]

NSFW Headcanon Request: Steven Grant (Moon Knight)

Steven Grant (Moon Knight) +  Ice cream/lollipop teasing (prompt list here)

It would be frankly embarrassing how easily, and quickly, you could wind Steven up with the slightest bit of effort. A fact that made Steven mortified, and excited you greatly. 

You'd been hoping to have Steven to yourself for the weekend, only for your plans to get rudely interrupted by Donna calling him in to cover for someone at the museum before you'd really had the chance to get your hands on him at all. Naturally Steven apologised profusely despite it not being his fault, and suggested you come visit him at the end of the day, promising you a private tour of the museum in exchange for your patience. You happily agreed to the plan, but only because you'd heard Steven mention a few behind-the-scenes places in the museum you couldn't resist the opportunity to drag him to. 

The day seemed to drag for Steven at his little counter; making inventory lists, punching endless numbers into his till, and doing a double-take every time someone walked in, just in case it was you, trying to hide the disappointment on his face when he realised he still had to wait a little longer until he saw you again. It had only been a few months since he first mustered up all his nerve to ask you out for coffee, and now he almost didn't feel himself when he wasn't around you. Like somehow your beauty and exuberance and kindness reflected onto him until he was sure he was the best, and happiest, version of himself there had ever been. He found himself picturing your pretty smile first thing in the morning, still completely in disbelief that he was the person that got to wake up beside you and see it. 

"Earth to Steven." You said again, starting to worry as you waved a hand in front of his face, watching his eyes slowly focus on reality again as he jumped in surprise.

"Sorry love! I was completely out of it then, I must have looked like a right plonker. If it helps, I was thinking about you." He offered bashfully, watching the mischievous smile forming on your face as you scanned the offerings around his station, 

"Oh really, what was I wearing?" You fought back a laugh at the crimson colour that immediately flooded into his cheeks at the question, a thread of stutters and stumbled words all you got in response. "What are these Steven?" You cut off his attempt to elaborate by picking up a round red lollipop held in a spiraling display at the far end of the ledge. 

"They're just lollipops that are supposed to make your tongue change colour, I don't know what they have to do with history or science, but people seem to love 'em." If you didn't have your back to him he would've seen the glimmer of an idea in your eyes before you spun and asked with an innocent grin, "Can I buy one please? For our tour." 

"Of course, my treat love." He smiled softly as he watched you unwrap the plastic coating, face falling to accomodate a deep gulp as he watched you flick your tongue over the glistening red orb, before slowly sliding it between your lips. He could feel his pulse quicken as you let out a soft hum at its taste, eyes trailing over to his as you commented, tone needlessly sultry, 

"Mm, strawberry." He ignored the ache building beside his hand as he quickly fumbled in his pocket to pull out a few coins, glad that it was his final transaction of the day as his blood seemed to be leaving his brain in favour of more fun areas. Taking your outstretched hand and leading you towards his favourite exhibits, he took a deep breath trying to steady himself from your effects on him. But you wouldn't let that happen. 

As you moved between glass cases, it wasn't hard to tell your little ploy was having the intended effect. Steven would find himself tripping over his words, and his feet, trying to keep his mind on anything but the sugary draw of your lips. While you looked intently at each artifact he explained, he could only bring himself to stare at your mouth, watching your tongue circle the lollipop, lapping up the sticky droplets forming before running over the tip, making Steven shift awkwardly from one foot to the other, desperately trying to push the images of how good he knew it felt to have you sucking him that way. 

You were surprised with how long he tried to keep his composure, clearly embarrassed by his obvious physical reaction, squirming to stand with his legs obscuring his crotch from your view, tugging at his collar as pink seemed to flush his skin as it stained your lips. It wasn't until you asked him if your tongue was "all pink now" before sticking it out at him with a devilish glint in your eyes that a little voice in his head made him realise he never stood a chance. 

"Do you want to see where, uh, we put the new, what's the word... museum stuff?" He spluttered out, already gripping your hand a little more firmly as he picked up the pace towards the stockroom he knew wouldn't get checked this time of night. 

"Lead the way handsome." You said happily, keeping your tone just innocent enough that you wouldn't completely give yourself away. Steven practically ripped open the door as he barged inside, panting from the short walk and the long-building frustration throbbing inside him. "Are you okay Steven?" You asked, saccharine sweet as you took the lollipop between your lips, exaggerating the sucking action with your cheeks. 

"Um, yes. But also no." He mumbled, volume rising as he stepped towards you, framing your body against the door as he checked the lock. He planted one hand beside your head as the other slowly wrapped around the paper stick emerging from your lips, fingers gently pulling until the sweet escaped your lips with an audible pop. He moved deliberately slowly, your own heart racing at the hungry look in his eyes, slightly disheveled by an afternoon of your relentless teasing. Tentatively he pressed his lips to yours, eagerness rushing through him as the taste of strawberries flooded his mouth, his tongue plunging forward to follow its sweetness. You fought back a smile at his obvious keenness, frantically capturing your lips and exploring your mouth until he needed to pull away for breath, chest heaving with the overwhelming excitement. The hunger in his eyes hadn't dissipated at all, desperate desire burning inside him, hindering his ability to ask for what he so clearly wanted. You decided you'd been cruel enough, bringing your hands to his thighs as you slowly lowered to your knees. 

"Is there something other than a lollipop you want me to put in my mouth Steven?" It took every ounce of his self-control not to lose it right there, your wide eyes staring up at him as your fingers toyed with buttons of his slacks, his silent but awestruck nod giving you the permission you needed. You could feel him straining against the fabric as you slid down his zip, peeling his trousers and boxers down his thighs until his aching manhood sprang free, already leaking its own sweet, sticky mess at his uncontrollable thoughts of you. Steven looked apologetic at his state despite your satisfied smile as you wrapped your hand around him, mumbling as you started to gentle rub away the throbbing tension, 

"I'm sorry love, you're just so beautiful and with that lollipop, I couldn't stop thinking about, uh, things and - Oh!" His apology halted as brought your rosy red tongue to his glistening tip, lapping at it just like in his thoughts, humming happily as his eyes fluttered shut, 

"Don't apologise Steven, you're way better than Strawberry." As if to prove your point you took him deeply between your lips, moaning as his hips bucked at the contact, slamming himself down your throat. The empty storage space was filled with whimpers and panting as he rubbed against the inside of your cheeks, feeling the soft warmth he'd been picturing all afternoon, eyes fixed to your bobbing head, watching you like the miraculous entity that you are, trying to capture the moment in all its glory in his mind, in case he never felt something so perfect again. The way your eyes looked up at him adoringly, the wet glide of your tongue as you pulled away, only to hum in satisfaction as you brought him back down your throat again, it was too much. Better than his imagination by a long stretch. His daydreams could never do your soft, warm touch justice. He could feel the pressure building inside him as he relished every sensation your movements created. 

"Love, I'm gonna - um, you should -" He tried to warn you, not sure of the proper wording and fumbling over himself as you seemed to apply more pressure, picking up the pace as he crossed his threshold, a deep groan ripping free of his throat as his hips began to stutter, his release filling your cheeks as you drew every last drop of pleasure from him. 

Steven watched in wide-eyed affection as you swallowed his seed like he was just another sweet treat, before sticking out your pink tongue while gently helping him back into his trousers. You pointed at the now much smaller sweet, still clutched in the hand that wasn't propped against the door, possibly the only thing keeping him from collapsing entirely. 

"Can I have that back now?" The cheeky glint in your beaming smile filled Steven with a mixture of excitement and anticipation as he shook his head, putting the lollipop in his own mouth instead, looking a little panicked as he spoke, 

"Absolutely not. You're banned from buying lollipops at my gift shop." He smiled at the incredulous laugh that burst from your lips as he helped you off your knees, sure you were going to be the death of him, but unable to think of a better way to go. 

[ggyuha]

done talking / leon

[ summary ] : your boyfriend is always tired & stressed so frankly, a vacation isn’t too much to ask for, right? what happens though when he refuses? ( wc is 2.1k )

[ c/w ] : angry sex mostly, degradation, pet names, unprotected sex, age gap (reader is adult!), fingering, i suck with tags but that’s mostly it i think

[ note ] : hi, it’s my first official nsfw work so i know i still have ways to go before i can actually call this good but i’m sort of testing the waters, see how i would like it if i shared adult content as well hehe anyways, i hope you like it and notes & ideas are always appreciated <3

“you are so fucking unfair.”

tension hung tightly around the air, choking your love for leon out of you. but one gaze from him, holds you down—keeps you grasping at him like a lifeline.

where did that soft gaze go, though?

his eyes flickered with annoyance, burning sharp imprints on your skin. he heaved a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “we’ve talked about this,” he said in an exasperated tone.

you scoffed in response. “we?” your words were heavy, emphasising the emotion with each syllable. “leon, i never said yes to anything!” you stomped, turning your back on him as you paced angrily around the kitchen. you held your head low with one hand, the other on your hip.

he watched you with a tired look on his face, his forehead creased and eyebrows furrowed. a frown tugged at his thin lips. “okay, even if we didn’t—what are you even gonna do about it?”

you looked back at him in disbelief, eyes wide with anger, lips pursed in annoyance.

it wasn’t as if you were asking for the impossible. is a trip together too much? after all, you’ve been seeing each other for 8 months but not once, never has he taken you out for a vacation. and you don’t see the problem with taking one either, with him always looking so drained, so out of it, so stressed.

but of course, who’s leon without his stubbornness? government this, people that—it’s like he’s nothing but the embodiment of saviour complex.

“leon, i can’t do anything about it but you do. we know damn well you always find a way…” you trailed off, trying to hold back hurtful words. they slip past your lips regardless, your anger seeping out no matter how much you hold back.

“… when you want it, at least.”

he looked up at you with wide eyes, a defensive look on his face as if you just accused him of a crime. “don’t you dare play that card,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

he slammed his hands on the table, pushing the chair back so hard when he stood up, it screeched against the floor before falling backwards.

he walked towards you with angry steps, gripping the edge of your shoulders with a firm hold. “i want to be with you, i do but lives depend on this, you know that. a few moments of leisure and i’m putting others at risk. don’t you get what i’m trying to say?” he was staring at you intensely, his whole face clenched tightly as if that would hold him back from showing his true colours, his trembling anger—you knew better than that.

because it was his hands that conveyed his frustration. you didn’t like the way they seized your flesh so you wriggled, trying to break free but his grasp on you was firm.

“let go of me.” his eyes blinked, a sudden realisation washing over him. his grip loosened but he didn’t let you go just yet.

he called your name sternly, “i can’t take a vacation right now. this mission is very important to lots of people, to me. but after this…” he sighed deeply, closing his eyes briefly before gazing down at his feet.

“what? you can’t finish your words, can you?” you taunted with a pained expression, “because you know it won’t end. after this, after that! no, leon, lives will always be at risk. just admit that you have a saviour complex!”

you pushed his chest with force. he stumbled back, freeing you from his grasp.

you grabbed your bag on the kitchen chair and acted as if to walk away. “oh no, you don’t,” he grunted lowly, grabbing you by the elbow before he pinned your back against the nearest wall. you felt shock shoot through your nerves, from the spine to the back of your head.

he snatched your bag from your hand, throwing it angrily somewhere—but you heard a glass shatter—then he pinned your wrists beside you.

“don’t walk away. we’re not done yet.” he inched his face closer, baring his teeth while his eyes devoured you whole with the intense fury he felt.

“how come only you get to decide things? i’m here too, you know,” you murmured weakly, the argument taking its toll on you. “but you’re not…”

the silence hung heavy in the air, the tension crackling as a grumble resonated deep in his throat. “please don’t question my love for you,” he murmured, pinning you harder against the wall as he rested his forehead on yours.

you looked up at him and furrowed your brows. “it’s hard not to,” you whispered sternly.

before you know it, his mouth is already forcibly crashing against yours, his teeth nibbling on your lip to make you gasp and when you did, he pushed his tongue in you, exploring your mouth without restraint.

“leon—“ you tried to gasp in between the heated kiss. his hands slipped under your shirt, kneading the flesh of your hips firmly as he kissed you with so much fervour, strings of saliva dripped down both of your chin, connecting your mouths.

the discomfort creeped in when he inched his hands upwards, palming your breasts through your bra. your nerves got prickly. “leon, stop,” you grunted, clawing at his arm. his touch didn’t bring you comfort as it did before, instead the throb clashed with pleasure—the pain dominating, mostly.

leon didn’t listen, bringing his hands to undo your shirt impatiently, sucking on the skin of your neck meanwhile. he used his teeth to nibble on the sensitive spot, his tongue swirling around his love bites.

you exhaled shakily, your will crumbling down as the pleasure started to sink in and register, albeit with the lingering painful sensation.

“don’t you ever say to my face that i don’t love you,” he stated with an ardent tone, his voice low and deep.

he lifted you into his arms, pressing apologetic kisses on your cheek as he carried you into his room, gently placing you on the mattress.

he pried your legs open with one hand to make room for him. he bent forward and kissed you on the lips, his hands sliding your shirt off your shoulders. he didn’t waste time and unclasped your bra as well, palming your breasts while he pinched your perky nipples between his fingers.

“this isn’t really the time… we’re not done yet talking,” you groaned and tipped your head back against the pillow. you held onto his shoulder, your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulder as your legs quivered.

leon looked down at you sharply. “we’re done with words, princess,” he spat firmly, “we’re too mad to talk, aren’t we? it’s time to get to actions.”

“you think it’s unfair, huh? i do too, believe me if it were up to me, i’d choose you again and again over my job because truthfully, you weigh more to me than anything.”

his words blurred as he unbuttoned your jeans and palmed your pussy through your panties. feeling the damped spot, he slipped a thick finger past its waistband, the calloused tip of his finger ghosting over your clit to tease you. you whimpered at the sensation that crawled into your body. you gripped his biceps more tightly, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

“i know i don’t deserve you but i try so fucking hard to be that one guy that’s perfect for you but god fucking damn it.”

he slowly pushed two digits past your wet folds, making you gasp. his fingers were long and thick and every time he thrusted them in and out, he’d curl the tip to press against your soft spots

he kept murmuring to you and every word that he uttered was heavy and thick with emotion but it wasn’t your fault that with every emphasis he made, he pumped his digits into you more roughly. he must’ve said something else, something about his job.

but you were feeling lightheaded.

the next thing you knew, he had already pulled your pants down along with your underwear and he’s unbuckling his pants before climbing on top of you again.

“i’ll fuck some senses into you, you whore. so fuckin’ desperate for some lovin’, y’say?”

“leon, slow—“ he pressed the tip of his cock against your slit, the sheer pressure and size sending your shiver. he’s too big, you thought, if he keeps being rough…

“fuuuuck…” you exhaled loudly with the sudden penetration, your walls painfully stretching to accommodate his size. you clawed at his back and closed your eyes, trying to divert your attention somewhere else other than the throb and sting you’re feeling down there.

he began thrusting, his hands hooked under your knees to lift them higher until they were levelled with your ears. he keeps pumping his cock in and out deeply and slowly, drawing the pleasure out of you before he’s back right in, balls deep, his hips rolling with delicious precision.

he began to pick up pace when he managed to bottoms out in you, his thick length filling you in so well that you could feel his tip slapping against your cervix.

you moaned out his name as he fucked you dumb. you couldn’t think of anything else at this point, only the sheer, raw passion he’s giving you as he kept thrusting.

“leon, leon…” you whimpered desperately. his hand left your leg to rub circles on your throbbing nub, stimulating you further. your nerves suddenly fired up, you felt tingly all over, your toes curling.

“i love you, angel,” he whispered into your ear. he easily flipped you on your stomach, lifting your ass up while your breasts and face pathetically lay flat on the mattress as he fucked you roughly from behind, groping your ass as he did so.

“fuck, so fucking tight. you like this spot, don’t you?”

your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open, spittle dripping down your chin. “answer me, princess—or are you too dumb to understand?”

you must have let out a groan or a sound at the very least but you heard him smirk and he spanked your ass, the hot sting of his big palm making you flinch and shudder.

he kept pulling almost fully out before slamming his dick back in and he did it over and over again at a slightly cruel pace until you’re pressing your mouth against the mattress, strings of moans leaving your lips, a tight knot threatening to release in you.

“not yet,” he said, feeling the delicious contraction of your tight cunt. “you won’t until i do too, you understand?”

you nodded helplessly, curling your toes and gripping the bedsheets with your hands as you kept lifting your hips up while he fucked you roughly from behind, his tip painfully hitting your deepest spot making it almost impossible not to cum around his cock.

“fuck, so good—you want my cum, don’t you, pretty girl?” he cooed as he bent forward, his clothed chest pressed against your back, his lips ghosting over your ear to whisper filth.

“answer me.” his tone was firm and you knew his patience was running thin, he wanted to cum. you nodded and among the incoherent babbling, you managed to scream his name. “yes, yes, i want your cum, leon!”

he pressed a wet kiss on your shoulder and grunted. “that’s my girl.” with more sloppy thrusts, he spilled his release in you, ropes of cum painting your womb white, filling it up.

you moaned at the sensation and finally let your own inhibitions go. he rubbed your clit while he thrusted in and out slowly, your hips stuttered in rhythm to your own orgasmic high, spurts of juices squirting on the mattress.

leon pulled out with a pop and your pussy twitched and ached with the emptiness. he put two fingers in, scooping his dripping cum with the tip to push them back in you.

“leon,” you groaned and let your body fall on the mattress completely. his body spooned yours and you both laid there, falling asleep.

a few hours later, you awoke from the sound of a chiming phone. you realised it was leon’s. you slipped out of bed quietly and took his phone out of his pants on the floor then opened the messages.

you smiled and slipped back into bed, wrapping your arms around him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. he grunted but his eyes remained closed, regardless he looked peaceful.

he skipped work after all. maybe you need to thank him properly later.

[imsososolesbian]

Repost. Not stolen. Edited.

Finders Keepers

Repost. Not stolen. Edits made

No warnings

Word count: 950

You were having a bad day. A really bad day. You woke up too early, and couldn’t fall back asleep, then you ran out of coffee. You were 5 minutes late to work, and your boss had finally decided to fire you.

On the way home it poured. Of course you hadn’t checked the weather, so you had no umbrella. Nor could you call a taxi, not wanting to spend a bunch of money on one. You tried to seek shelter in a small cafe you passed, but a lot of people were standing in it, so you thought better and went on your way.

By the time you got home, you were soaked to the bone. You kicked off your shoes at the front door and ran to the bathroom. You had a nice hot shower. Letting all your worries drain away as you stood under the stream of water.

You step out of the shower an hour after you got in, the water had turned from warm to cold. You wrap yourself up in a towel before walking over to your bedroom. You grab a pair of sweatpants you had left laying on your bed that morning and put them on.

Finding a comfortable shirt was a different story though. You found yourself digging through a drawer, pulling out shirt after shirt. None looked comfortable enough for you. Before finally, you stumbled upon a shirt, it was old. Some small holes had formed in it, and the colour was fading.

It was one of Shauna’s old shirts. You two had lost it a few years ago, when you went on a trip. It looks like you were wrong and it was put into a random drawer.

Once dressed, you venture off into the kitchen, and grab a cold pop from the fridge. You take a cup out from your cabinet and put a few pieces of ice into it before pouring the pop over top of it. Taking a sip from your glass you walk into the living room, and sit down on the couch.

You place the glass onto the table, and pick up the t.v remote. You had a few hours to kill before Shauna came over. The two of you were going to watch Big Brother together.

You flip through the channels. Finally finding a show you actually want to watch. You lay down on the couch, and pull a blanket off of the top of the couch and wrap it around yourself. You let out a sigh.

The tv drowns out a bunch of the thoughts in your head. Enough so that you are able to actually get some more rest.

Three hours later you had woken up. A ring around your glass of pop, and no more ice left in it. You knew it would be watered down but you still pick the glass up and chug the drink.

You get up off the couch walking into the kitchen again, going to wash your glass, before noticing the time. You had around five minutes before Shauna would be at your house. So you quickly wash the glass and race back to the living room, making sure the right channel is on for Big Brother.

The next few minutes go by really slowly. The tv had landed on commercials, when there was finally a knock at your door.

The walk to the front door seemed longer than it was. When you opened it, you saw Shauna standing on the other side, a smile on her face, and a bag on her back. You pull her into the house, and close the door behind her. You give her just enough time to take off her shoes and jacket before you are hugging her.

She pats you on the back as you cling to her, “What’s up with you today? You’re never like this.”

“Bad day,” you mumble out, your head resting on her shoulder.

Shauna pulls back, and looks at you, “Then let’s make it a better day.”

You find yourself leaning against Shauna on the couch. Big Brother now playing, you had only a little bit of trouble keeping your eyes open. Shauna’s hand was running through your hair, and mumbling out comments about what was happening in the show.

Soon enough a set of commercials are on, and Shauna looks down at you, “Is that my shirt?”

You nod, “Yeah. I found it earlier in my dresser.”

“That was like my all time favourite shirt. I’ll be taking it back when I leave tomorrow.” Shauna replies, yanking slightly on the sleeve closest to her.

“Finder keepers, not happening. I’m not having a replay of our first date. Don’t get me wrong, it was a great date, but it’s not happening.” you say, swatting her hand away from the sleeve.

You hear no reply so you continue talking, “I still can’t believe that you wore this shirt on our first date. Real question being why didn’t you listen to Jackie when she told you not to wear a teenage mutant ninja turtle shirt to a date. You’re lucky you’re cute. And you were lucky that we were going to the movies that day.”

“I was dressed perfectly fine for a date. I wore my good jeans and my good flannel,” Shauna rebuttals and you laugh.

“Fine, fine. You looked good,” you roll your eyes, “I can’t believe you got me to watch a TMNT movie that night, but it was a nice date.”

After that the only sound that was made was Shauna’s comments again and breathing. By the time Big Brother was over, both of you were halfway asleep on the couch.

[luna-milkshake]

Hey here's a thing, I like it I think. Need's work but eh, posting it before I overthink it.

"what's with the sudden beach trip?" Luigi asked looking towards his partner, making sure not to break his neck in the process.

"I needed some time away from kingly duties and wanted you with me, plus we haven't been to a beach in some time." Bowser quickly responded having rehearsed this exact answer a thousand times before picking him up.

"That's sweet, spending your time off with only me? I'm honoured." Luigi smiled lovingly at the Koopa as thier feet began to get covered in sand. It wasn't like they didn't spend time alone, they do sleep in the same bed but this is different, alone time outside The Koopa Kingdom was very few and far between especially since whenever they got the chance Junior would come along for a family trip.

Bowser's chest felt warm at his words, even now having been together for 5 years he still feels honoured just to spend time with him. He sure hoped Kamek was alright with a couple extra hours of babysitting.

The pair reached the far end of the beach, the soothing waves of the ocean only a few feet away from them. Bowser set down the towels he was carrying and sat on them, beckoning Luigi to join him. Luigi was lost looking at the sea, the hypnotic motions allowing him to lose himself in the waves.

Bowser chuckled and Pulled Luigi into his lap following it with a kiss on his head. Feeling Luigi squirm under his grasp, "c'mon I don't need to be in your lap love." he said hoping his koopa would let him go.

Bowser held his man tighter, placing his head on Luigi's to hold him still. "No thanks, you're right where I want you to be Weeg." He said gently. Holding him like this also gave bowser the benifit of hearing his heartbeat, the melotic sounds of it beating to his rhythm.

They sat there like that for what felt like an eternity to Luigi, but eventually Bowser set him to his side and made his way to the water. Luigi followed him with a chuckle.

At first Bowser just pulled Luigi to his side in what felt romantic before being splashed in the face with a koopa claws worth of water. Luigi stumbled back while Bowser couldn't hold back a fit of laughter. Luigi began laughing as he started splashing water onto his Koopa, which to Bowser felt like being splashed by Junior.

"That's unfair! You're hands are too big!" Luigi managed between a fit of giggles.

"Alright 'Stache I'll give you that one." Bowser retorted, truth be told he just wanted it to stop before the sun started setting.

Bowser pulled Luigi close and stared into his gorgeous blue eyes, watching at they stared right back. He kissed Luigi deeply, being met with an equaly passionate kiss in return. Feeling Luigi's face physically burn up filled him with butterfly's. Only pulling away because Luigi needed to breathe.

"I love you Luigi." Bowser stated.

"I love you too Bowser." Luigi responded not skipping a beat.

Bowser always loved hearing him say those words, the idea that someone he loves so much feels exactly the same made it all worth it.

As the sun set Luigi couldn't help but stare as the horizen was filled with a gorgeous orange colour, though he couldn't help but hear the splashing of water beside him. Looking back to his Koopa to find him down on one knee looking lovingly at Luigi with a box in his claws. Bowser opened the box revealing a stunning Daimond ring.

"Luigi, these last few years have been the most memorable and happy years of my life." Bowser began, seeing Luigi's eyes form tears. "You've been nothing but the best thing in my life and the best partner I could ever ask for. Would you do me the honours and make me the happiest Koopa alive? Will you marry me?" Bowser finally managed.

Luigi couldn't hold back his tears as they poured from his eyes with pure happiness on his face, "Yes Bowser, yes." he said between sobs, falling into the Koopa's arms as he let his fiancé hold him. This was the Happiest day of his life.

[dracowars]

Hi again sweetie! Luke and reader where theyre all celebrating the whole end of the empire/death star and she gets absolutely drunk off her mind and sits on his lap and plays with his hands all giggly and theyre "just friends" and han (and leia) are having the time of his life teasing tf out of them?? Maybe in the morning shes embarrassed and apologises so lukes all sad bcs it was a "mistake" but they end up tgt later? Thankss lovee

booze and confessions | luke skywalker

pairing: luke x reader

word count: 1,9k

summary: where y/n celebrates the end of the war a little too much, ending in a confession

a/n: i feel like it has been ages since i wrote something even though it's not true lmao hope you enjoy lovely!! <3

warnings: angst, mentions of war, mentions of death

universe: star wars

To be honest, you have no idea how many drinks you already have in your system, but when if not today are you allowed to celebrate like this? After the Death Star was successfully destroyed, the Empire was defeated and peace and tranquility will return to the entirety of the galaxy. The age of fear and terror is over, the time of fighting is over and you can finally let yourself go. Finally, there is something to celebrate, something you have been working towards for years. And today, after all the suffering, that goal has been achieved and you could not be any happier to be right here, right now: on Endor, in the midst of numerous Ewoks dancing and partying, with your friends who fought alongside you all those years while the sky above you is lit up in a variety of colours.

However, the exertion of the day affects your body, your feet slowly starting to hurt from this long, fateful day and when you see Luke sitting at a table, with Han and Leia next to him, a break from all this celebrating suddenly sounds quite attractive and you stumble and stagger towards them.

"There he is! The man of the hour!", you chuckle happily as soon as you are near them, your arms spread wide as you head straight for Luke, who examines you with a small but shy smile. Before he can answer, however, you actually trip over your own feet and almost hit the ground if it wouldn't be for Luke's strong arms to prevent you from falling to the ground.

"Woah! Be careful!", Luke warns you, but what he does not expect is that you barely noticed your little misstep and just sit on his lap, giggling with joy. "I think someone had a drink or two too many."

"Are you talking about me? Don't you worry, Luke, I'm perfectly fine!", you cheekily smile at him, swaying a bit which is why he carefully puts one of his hands on your arm so you do not fall off your seat on top of him.

"Maybe you just didn’t have enough?", you tease him, showing him his glass, turning it upside down to emphasize that it is empty. Of course, this victory also comes with a lot of pain for Luke and Leia due to the loss of their father, but Luke has assured you several times that he is fine and that he still wants to celebrate this victory, in honor of his father.

That is also why you really wanted the two of you to have a good time together, but apparently you really had a few too many drinks.

"She definitely had too much", Han comments on your behaviour, sitting across from you with an arm around Leia, followed by a laugh. "I think I have rarely seen her like this and I have seen a lot."

"Han, you could use another drink, don't you think?", you answer him provocatively, but before you can elaborate, you feel the warmth of Luke's hand running up and down your arm. Heat rushes to your face, your cheeks turning red, but you just reach for his other hand and play with his fingers enthusiastically.

"I never thought I would see Ewoks in my life! I mean, did you look at them? They are so cute, I can't believe they stopped an army of stormtroopers by themselves!", you gush in awe upon watching these little creatures dance around their fire. "Don't worry, Luke. You are still cute as hell, too."

"Oh wow, it must sting to be compared to little furry bears", Han chuckles, putting his hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud. Leia, also trying to hold back her laughter for her brother's sake, hits Han with her elbow.

"Stop it, Han. I am not even talking to you, just to Luke. Look at you! Such a beautiful face!", you grin, running your index finger along Luke's jawline. Your faces are so close now that they are almost touching and as soon as your eyes meet, the world around you becomes silent.

But just when Luke thinks you are about to close the gap between you, you throw your arms around his neck and place a kiss on his cheek, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

"I really love you, Luke", you whisper, or at least think you are whispering, because Han comments your words with inhaling in shock.

"No, that is news to me. I would never have expected that in my life, with the way you always look at each other-"

"Han!" Luke and Leia interrupt him at the same time and he immediately raises his hands in the air in defense, an expression of innocence on his face.

"It is not at all fun to say if you don't say it back, Luke", you sadly pout now, skillfully ignoring Han or not even noticing him due to your numbed senses. Because you are moving too much again, you almost slide off Luke's lap once more, but he holds you tight again in the last moment so that does not happen.

"Well, I think it is time for you to lie down now. It was a long evening and-"

"B-But we haven't even danced with each other yet!", you say indignantly as Luke stands up with you and immediately grab his hand, lifting it up to do several clumsy pirouettes underneath.

To prevent you from tripping over your own feet again, Luke casually lifts you into his arms, causing you to squeal as everything around you suddenly seems to spin even more. Not resisting or fighting back, enjoying the closeness you now have to him too much, you wave to Leia and Han over Luke's shoulder and let him carry you into one of the huts further up in the treetops.

Luke gently lays you down on the small mattress laid out in your hut and covers you with the blanket, sitting next to you. Your eyes are already half closed, but one of your hands is still clinging tightly to his.

"I love you too, you can't even imagine how much", Luke admits before giving you a kiss on the forehead and leaving you to your dreams, which for the first time are only consisting of positive things.

════════════

Scattered rays of light shine into your face, causing you to wake up far too early after the previous long night. Slowly, you open your eyes and listen to the soft rustling of the leaves outside. You stretch your arms above your head as you yawn and sit up, running your hands through your face as the first effects of last night make themselves noticeable.

You curse under your breath as you rise on shaky legs, having to hold onto the wall of the small hut to keep your balance. You already regret not drinking less yesterday, but it felt so good in the moment. Completely sleepy and not yet fully awake, you stumble out onto the wooden platform high up in the trees and stop in your tracks when you see Luke standing on the railing in front of you, looking out over the Ewok village.

The light wind blows through his hair and the sunlight causes his face to shine naturally. Barely able to take your eyes off him, memories of last night suddenly come to your mind and your heart beats faster. You can't remember everything, there are some missing parts in your memories, but what you can remember brings a blush to your cheeks in an instant.

Wanting nothing more than to immediately disappear back into your hut because you just do not want to be confronted with your actions of last night, you slowly turn around, retreating, but as soon as he says your name, you know he does not even need to see you to know you are there.

With a smile, Luke turns to you, leaning his back against the railing.

"Slept well?", he asks gently, but you think you can also hear a certain amount of concern in his voice.

With a nod, you slowly walk towards him, looking away because you just can't keep eye contact, too afraid of what you might see in his eyes.

"How are you?", you ask carefully as you lean over the railing next to him and he looks at you from the side, his focus solely on you which makes your cheek feel even warmer. Playing with a strand of rope that is holding the wood of the railing together, you wait for his answer, your heart beating loudly in your ears as your shoulders touch.

"I'm good. We won so..", Luke chuckles quietly, but immediately falls awkwardly silent again.

You stand next to each other in silence for several minutes, just listening to the wind and the peaceful sounds of the forest. But you both feel that there is something unspoken between you and neither of you knows how or whether to address it. Once Luke finally clears his throat, you brace yourself for the worst.

"You don't have to be embarrassed about what happened last night if that is why you are not speaking to me like you usually do", Luke addresses the rancor in the room and you want to run away and lock yourself up somewhere and just never come out again.

"Luke, I'm incredibly sorry. I-I had too much to drink and my behavior was completely inappropriate", you apologize to him, head down because you just can't manage to look at him without immediately turning bright red. Why are you suddenly so completely out of control of your emotions?

"Oh... I see. Uhm, you don't have to apologize. I mean, if it was just the effects of having too much to drink, then it was probably just a mistake.."

"W-What do you mean?", you ask in surprise, not knowing what he is trying to imply. Or maybe you do know and just do not want to admit it.

"Well, I mean- So I- Would it be wrong of me if, deep down, I hoped that it was more than that? That it was, maybe, real?"

"Luke, what are you talking about...?"

"Would it be so bad if it was real? Do you really feel about me that way?", he asks you and now you finally look into each other's eyes and you hold your breath, searching his eyes for any signs that will tell you what is going on, if he actually means his words.

"Because if that were the case, then all I can say is that I feel the same way about you. Maybe even more", he continues, not letting you speak as he takes your hands in his. "I really really love you too. I told you yesterday, but I don't think-"

"I know. I think I heard it", is the only thing you can say in response to his confession, your thoughts swirling around in your head. You never would have thought that he would feel the same way about you and for some reason your heart now beats a little more painfully than before because you just feel so much love for this man in front of you.

"As I told you yesterday, Luke: I really love you too", you admit openly and before you know it, he wraps you in his arms and hugs you as tightly as if you wouldn't experience the next day.

And in that moment you realize that you would never find a safer place than right here, in his arms. That no matter what comes your way in the future, nothing matters as long as you have each other. And finally, after all this time, you do have each other.

[64yrsold]

medicine :-)

“Baby, we’ve got ten minutes,” he shouts from downstairs.

“Okay! Five minutes!” I reply, rushing around the bedroom as I get ready. I stand in front of the closet mirror and smooth the folds in my dress, and double check that my earrings match.

I slip on the new shoes he picked for me, which seem to sparkle even in the dim light. I grab my lipstick from my purse, blotting on some colour.

“Stunning,” he mumbles, appearing in the doorway. His eyes are glossy as he looks me up and down. I cap the lipstick.

“You like the shoes?” I smile, pointing my right foot towards him.

“You’re perfect,” he sighs, and kneels in front of me. He skims a finger down the back of my calf, and pulls my foot onto his thigh. He places a heavy kiss on the middle of my shin, dotting his lips down to my ankle.

“I’m sure the car is here,” I warn, my cheeks warming at his touch.

“Let’s stay home,” he grins, gazing up at me. His eyes are honey and his pupils are dimes. He bites his lip waiting for my response.

“How many times have we cancelled-“ I begin, before he leaps up to grab me around my waist.

“My dress!” I roar, gasping between laughs. He spins me around, and his chest vibrates with laughter. He gently throws me onto the edge of the bed, and slips off my shoes.

“I was excited to go,” I whine, giving him my best pout.

“How could I leave you,” he whispers, his hands cradling my thighs, “You’re just too gorgeous tonight. I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

“Nobody’s sharing me,” I smile, brushing his cheek.

“I’d fall into a pit of jealousy if anyone should even glance at you.” he says, leaning into my hand. “I’ll be sick.”

A car honks from outside.

“That’s the car,” I say, trying to slip my shoes back on.

“Alright, we can go,” he says with his head low.

“Don’t be a baby,” I giggle, pushing my hands into his hair. “We’ll have fun.”

He sighs deeply, groaning and pushing his head into my chest.

“We’ll get drunk,” I whisper in his ear.

He perks up, holding my head between his hands.

“You’ll get drunk? You?” he laughs with disbelief.

“And then we can come home, and-“

“Ok, shoes on, babe.” He says, fumbling for my shoes and stumbling to grab my coat. I giggle as he trips on the doorway, and hear him rush down the stairs. “Let’s go!” He bellows.

[ven-of-oath]

Martyn wins, and the moment he gets the final kill his timer stops and at first? He doesn't even notice, relishing in the peace and quiet. The voices are now gone, no yelling, no demanding, not even a singular sarcastic sentence nothing. He's won.

Basically what was supposed to be a 3 paragraph ramble turned into a 1.2k word oneshot.

Martyn wins, the new time is incredible and the moment he gets the final kill his timer stops at 1:07:27 and at first? He doesn't even notice, still riding the high of victory relishing in the peace and quiet after the voices that had been screaming in his head for weeks now are quiet, no yelling, no demanding, not even a singular sarcastic sentence nothing. He takes in his surroundings in awe he's won. 

He only notices the frozen timer when he goes to get up from where he's fallen to his knees. Brushing the stagnant numbers off as a consequence of his victory, they'll finish him off soon enough when they get bored he thinks, and he walks away from spawn. 

It had been a week. He thought at first, when it was obvious that whatever was controlling the games weren't going to kill him, that the extra time was a blessing, he could do whatever he wanted! He even had the lee-way to die once before he was permanently dead! It was only when he was travelling on the other side of the map, gathering resources for the base under his hourglass that he never got to even start, that he discovered his problem. A ravine. Covered in trees and just enough out of sight to send an unsuspecting player to their deaths, and yet tripping and falling with no time to try and save himself he fell the the bottom of the cavern, landing as if he hadn't fallen at all, no damage taken, nothing to even indicate that he had fallen into the ravine at all. He chalked it up to a weird glitch, just something going a bit awry for just a moment, nothing to think too hard about.

After two weeks he'd rebuilt most of the structures on the server, patching holes replacing each block as best he could remember.

By 3 he'd blown them all up. Once he was done he dropped from the scattered remains of the taller bread bridge and landed on the ground next to spawn no more hurt than if he had simply dropped two blocks. He'd found that nothing could kill him, no zombie, no creeper, no room full of TNT, nothing. He'd even tried floating face down on the river. It wasn't like he could breathe underwater. The water simply filled his lungs and stayed there until he got bored enough to get out of the water and cough it up. The only inkling that the world could affect him at all was the coral encrusted on his skin, by now it had long since died, probably started dying the minute he killed Scott, no amount of sea water brought the colour back once it started turning grey.

At first he was glad that the bodies hadn't stuck around after people died this time. It had been hard enough seeing them the first time when the adrenaline of a continuing battle was there to push him along. But here there's nothing, when their clocks ran out they were simply gone. Like there was no one there in the first place, no bodies, no items just nothing. After 4 weeks it felt like there hadn't been anyone there at all.

He didn't know why it took so long for him to think of it. He tried everything after all, every obscure way to take damage or die. He'd even stopped stubbornly ignoring the voices' absence and begged them for something- anything- but nothing, no response, no sign from the universe, nada. So when he stumbled across a dispenser set up right on the border in a small tucked away corner, he could almost cry. Nothing could survive for more than 3 blocks outside of the border, he was going to be free. Getting to the other side with a boat was ridiculously easy, he could walk the few blocks to freedom.

The crushing suffocation never came. He was ten blocks out when he realised he was stupid for thinking that he would have a simple way out.

So he kept walking.

Outside the border he couldn't do much as he travelled. At first he tried to open the chests from the empty structures he passed but as every chest remained stubbornly closed he soon gave up on that as well.

He's not sure how far he's walked by the time he stops at a cave. By all the looks it's completely normal and unremarkable, a simple cave entrance in the ground. It was honestly a bad idea to head into any cave let alone this one, a fall down a hole and he'll be stuck there forever, unable to place or break blocks to get out. But still he goes deeper, running a hand along the cave wall to get at least a hint of orientation among the pure darkness. He walks down winding tunnels sloping lower and lower towards the depths of the world. He jumps when his hand starts brushing against the rougher deepslate, but not nearly as much when his fingers start to brush against brick. It startled him that he almost fell down the staircase he could feel in front of him. He descended the stairs,  he almost forgot about strongholds, seeming so pointless deep underground. He's in a room lit only by distant torchlight from an iron door to his left, impassable as no redstone works outside the border, even the normal door in front is a dead end as well, no force will get the hinges to move. On the right are more stairs that lead deeper into the structure, taking them down leads to more hallways. Wandering through, most paths lead to dead ends. He knows it's pointless trying to explore the paths, he guesses it's just stretching out the time before he must backtrack through the cave up to the surface again. He almost doesn't notice a section of eroded wall on a particularly dim hallway, catching a sleeve on the roughened rock. The hole was big enough for a player if they put their arms and legs in some awkward positions. Struggling through the wall he saw something down the end of the hallway, iron bars blocking lava, the end portal. The spawner didn't awaken when he approached a small relief, not that the silverfish could do much. He intended to look how complete the portal was, assess how 'lucky' he would be if he was even able to even put eyes of ender into the portal frames. Through the frames, instead of the normal pool of lava was instead void, swirling and pulsing. He didn't think about what would happen if the portal didn't work, if he fell through it and was stuck in the pit of lava below.

He opened his eyes to see the end. It was strange, like most things had been outside of the border, there was nothing, no mobs, no dragon, just empty obsidian towers on top of endstone. He wandered close to the centre bedrock spire, its portal still intact with no dragon to guard it. He sat on the bedrock edge and leaned back feeling the tug of the portal's energy against his hair. Closing his eyes, falling back and entering into the portal he hears the final deafening words.

'Do you see now?'

[novankenn]

"Ozpin's Fault - AU"

A Morning Surprise (1/4) (809 Words)

(Tumblr exclusive "Remake" of Oops My Bad posted on AO3)

It was three in the morning and Jaune felt luck utter shit. He was sweating profusely, and pains wracked his body. He had no idea why he suddenly felt so sick, he just knew he needed to get to the bathroom, and quickly. Almost falling out of bed, he half stumbled, half crawled into the adjoining bathroom.

As quietly as he could, he closed the door and locked it, before diving for the toilet and emptying out everything still in his stomach and then some. Spitting, and then sighing, he pressed his sweat coated forehead to the toilet tank, embracing the coolness of the smooth porcelain surface.

Burping, he leaned over the bowl and once again evacuated his stomach of anything that could be in it.

"Why? What?" he moaned as he basically draped himself over the toilet as he felt his body burning up. He knew at this point he really needed help, but in his weakened state he was unable to rise.

"Help?" he moaned out. The weakness of his voice, not even carrying his voice past the bathroom door. "Please... help..."

/=/

"Five more minutes, Mom!" Jaune mindlessly called out from his position hugging the toilet. He sighed and open his eyes slowly, registering that he was in the bathroom. "Yeah, right. I was sick last night."

"Jaune? Are you okay?" Pyrrha's voice cut through the door.

"Jaune-Jaune! I NEED to GO!!!"

"Be right out." Jaune called back as he attempted to rise to his feet. He couldn't put his finger on it, but his body felt all wrong, and his clothes didn't fit right. Something moved on the top of his head, at the same time something brushed past his legs. He stopped and shook his head, trying to just get his still sleep dazed mind to focus. It refused, so he did the next best thing, made a few stumbling steps to the door.

"I can pop the lock, if you need help Jaune? Do you need help?" Pyrrha called out from the other side of the door.

"Jaune-Jaune!" Nora moaned, in obvious discomfort.

Jaune said nothing, and just twisted the doorknob, unlocking and opening the door at the same time.

"Jaune?" The pure shock in Pyrrha's voice didn't register with Jaune, and that was because he was trying to figure out why his partner's ample bosom was now at eye level.

"OUT. OF. THE. WAY!" Nora muttered through clenched teeth as she shoved Pyrrha and Jaune out of the way, slamming the door closed behind her.

"Jaune, are you okay?"

"I was feeling a little sick last night, but aside from being..." Jaune paused, something wasn't right. His voice sounded off. Not like having a cold off, either. It sounded lighter, softer, more musical.

"Jaune?"

"I think, I'm still not feeling well... I'm just going to go back to bed, if that's okay?"

Pyrrha and Ren just watched, looks of utter surprise, concern and confusion etched on their faces. Two very wobbly steps into his trip to his bed, Nora exited the bathroom.

"So Jaune-Jaune were you always a super hot foxy vixen faunus all this time, and just hiding it from us? You know we would have accepted you, you're our fearless leader, after all."

"What are you talking about, Nora?" Jaune asked in return, his mind still in a half awake fog.

"Jaune." Pyrrha moved to place her hand on his shoulder. Jaune idly wondered on how he never noticed Pyrrha was so tall. "I think you should look in the mirror... and then we'll go to the..."

"Why? I'm just exhausted. Like I said, I was sick last night..."

"Can I brush your tail?" Nora asked out of nowhere.

"I don't have a..." Jaune cut himself off and squeaked when he felt something attached to his back, just above his behind, getting touched.

"Nora!"

"Then what's this?"

"When did I get..." Jaune's deep blue eyes grew wide as he looked at the bushy fox-like tail he now apparently had. It was a beautiful golden colour, and looked immaculately cared for

"It's so cute, and matches your ears so perfectly!" Nora commented with utter glee.

"Jaune, I think you need to sit down, and we'll call..." Ren tried to step in. Only for Jaune to totally ignore him. With a shrug of his shoulder, Jaune dislodged Pyrrha's hand, and staggered his way back into the bathroom past Nora.

Heading directly for the sink, his goal to use the wall mirror that hung there...

"WHAT THE FUCK?!?!" he screeched, followed by a thud as he promptly fainted.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha cried out as she rushed in to the bathroom.

"Fearless Leader!" Nora shouted, as she joined Pyrrha in the washroom, to help with Jaune.

"Get him to his bed. I'll call the infirmary." Ren instructed, in an attempt to keep control of this situation.

[beecanons]

Deltarune; Neurodivergent HC

requested by @pulsar-ray (sorry its late /g)

characters: spampton, swatch and tasque manager

Spampton

Dysgraphia and Dyslexia majorly struggles with writing numbers and letters often written backwards never consistent with sizing and lines always curve random or misplaced capitalization uses the trick of writing a line under 6 or 9 to indicate which is which but still mixes it up at times only left and right trick that words is the "lefty loosey, righty tighty" rhyme, the L hand trick doesnt work for him will mix up words that are very similar uses numbers for letters both cuz cool typing quirk and mixes them up (3 and E, B and 8 etc)

Meares-Irlen Syndrome. wears glasses to help with his sight struggles reading large blocks of text as they look like patterned lines and can cause headaches very light sensitive very different prescriptions in each eye including slight colour distortion has trouble with distance, depth perception and hand-eye coordination frequent headaches

Autistic-Spec/ASD might have autistic spectrum disorder? definitely has a range of the symptoms and traits.

Swatch

ASD definitely on the autistic spectrum. hates the use of "functioning" labels. has a sound sensitivity and prefers being indoors in the city to avoid the loud city noise. loves organizing and categorizing things by colour. delayed verbal responses

Dyscalculia Can count just fine for the most part but begins to struggle with larger numbers. Has difficulty reading strings of numbers verbal and visual math equations? not near this one. does however count money just fine. struggles with subtraction and counting backwards from high numbers can be very slow when anything involves numbers at times due to things taking a little extra time to process for him.

Dyspraxia never ask him to catch something, literally cannot, will drop it, it will fall and break if breakable. delayed physical reactions, tends to be off balance and will stumble and likely fail to catch himself if he jumps. the person who trips over themself when running, probably done so a lot as a kid and prefers just walking and keeping movements small and in one place. does bump into things sometimes, especially bumps into the wall when turning a corner but usually only when hes not fully focused on where hes going.

Synesthesia every single colour has its own flavour and sound and/or smell shapes have specific colours and sounds to them isnt sure how to describe it but can point it out sometimes will say something like "this colour sounds high pitched" or "this shape has a smooth feel"

Tasque Manager

ADHD misplaces things hyperfocused on one thing at a time but will attempt to multi-task lots of movement, even when in idle mode she is never perfectly still despite popular belief, concentrates just fine on tasks, she just cant multi-task very well, can only handle a few things at a time and likely will become side tracked but still makes progress on tasks. tries a lot to schedule herself and stick to a list of tasks, swatch more often than not helps her out with this.

Hyperlexia very fast reader often helps swatch with number related issues always has a word for something very good memory when it comes to numbers and words, possibly includes a photographic memory and/or "dictionary-like" memory. MUCH better at writing/typing out things than verbal communication. tends to repeat specific words, mostly when speaking but not entirely in a "stumbling over the word" kind of way probably has a book collection stored somewhere. yes swatch organized the books for her.

Synesthesia different colours emulate a taste or smell to her certain textures and flavours have a colour to her different sounds have different shapes and colours to them she can get very descriptive about it at times if youre curious. it goes on.

if you have anything to add or would like to share your own headcanons feel free!

the inbox is always open!

[phoenix--flying]

the thing for my babies

Alabaster jolted when an explosion rocked the ground. His eyes snapped up to the fucking Greek Trireme hovering in the sky.

Shit, Annabeth.

His foot hit the shadow beside him and he sunk into it, appearing in the shadow the ship casted on the ground. It seemed to have blasted a hole in the parking lot, revealing a small room. His eyes found a statue in the corner. The Athena Parthenos. He focused on the ground inside the small room, his vision blurred with green and he was down there.

Huh, that Mist travel does come in handy.

“Beth!” She whirled around, stumbling due to the messy splint on her ankle, he rushed forwards and caught her before she could catch. “Oh my gods,” He murmured, looking over her quickly. “You’re okay?”

“Ankle’s a little messed up.” Annabeth responded, half sarcastically. “And a little shaken up, but I’m fine.” She sighed shakily, leaning against his side. “Especially with you.”

Alabaster looked back up at the statue. “You did it.”

“I did it.” She murmured. “But now what do we do with it? You can’t shadow travel with me and something that big.”

Before he could shoot back that he could, they just didn’t have anywhere to put it, a ladder fell from the ship. He tensed, shifting so Annabeth was partially behind him. She held her knife out in front of them. “First, we have them to deal with.” He hissed, tapping the card on his hip to summon his sword.

“Blowing a hole in the parking lot are they insane or something?” Annabeth muttered.

“Sounds about right.”

He scowled as a group made their way down the ladder. Two girls and three boys.

“Uh.” One of the girls murmured. She had choppy brown hair and eyes that seemed to change colours, vaguely reminding him of Silena Beauregard. “Who are you two?”

Alabaster scowled. “I should be asking you that.” He gestured up at the ship with his sword. “Fucks wrong with you? Blowing a hole in a parking lot?” He tilted his head towards Annabeth. “What if you’d killed her?”

“They’d probably be taking a one way trip to Hades, curtosy of you.” She mused.

He narrowed his eyes when the boy, one with blond hair, blue eyes and a scar on his lip, stepped forward. “Take another step. And you get hurt.” He hissed.

“I don’t think you could do that.” He murmured.

“Wanna bet?” Alabaster snapped.

“Let’s try not to murder anymore demigods.” Annabeth murmured. “I think the Olympians have enough reason to hate us, much less to kill one of their kids.”

“No fun.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Please don’t commit more war crimes, Tory.”

Alabaster pursed his lips. “Fine.”

“Who are you?” Another boy asked. He was short with curly hair.

“Right back at you.” Annabeth murmured. “You’re the ones that blew a hole in the ground and disturbed my whole quest.”

The other girl blinked. “Your quest?”

She pointed at the Parthenos. “My quest.”

Alabaster vaguely registered another person coming down the ladder, but he kept his gaze trained on the group in front of him. “Who are you and why are you here?”

“Listen man, we’ve got an issue with giants and we-“

“Al? Annabeth?”

His head snapped towards the ladder. When his eyes landed on the teen getting off it, he felt any ounce of annoyance leaving his body. Annabeth gasped.

“Percy?”

He was standing there, raven hair longer and, naturally, messy. His eyes were different, mismatched. The right was the same sea green Alabaster remembered, the colour he’d fallen in love with just gazing at, but the left was the cold golden that reminded him of Kronos.

“Oh my gods.” He murmured, rushing forward. “I thought you two…” He shook his head, pulling them both into a hug. Annabeth exhaled shakily, burying her face in Percys shoulder to hide the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“Uh…Percy?”

The son of Poseidon didn’t respond, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around the other two demigods. Alabaster tucked his face in the crook of his boyfriends – were they still boyfriends? – neck and wrapped the arm not holding Annabeth around his waist.

“You’re okay.” He murmured.

“I’m okay.” Percy responded carefully. “I’m okay, Bast.”

A choked sob escaped Annabeth as she clung closer to Percy. “Never do that again.” She murmured. “You can’t leave me like that again.”

“No.” He whispered in response. “I won’t. I won’t.” Annabeth only nodded.

Alabaster sighed quietly, pulling his face away and eyeing Percy. “Hey Bast.” He murmured.

“Jackass.” He responded, smacking his arm. “You know how fucking stupid that stunt was?”

Percy laughed and Alabaster shook his head. He couldn’t stay annoyed at the son of Poseidon even if he tried.

“I love you.” Percys eyes softened at the words and he brought a hand up to cup Alabasters cheek, leaning their foreheads together.

“I love you too, Alabaster.” His eyes flickered to Annabeth and he poked her side, eliciting a quiet squeak from the daughter of Athena. “And I love you too, Annabeth.”

“Yeah you better.” She muttered. “Making us think you were dead.”

He laughed, smiling warmly at her. “In my defense I thought you two were dead.” He murmured.

Alabaster huffed. “Yeah because Olympus is full of assholes.”

Percy gave him a confused smile but before he could ask one of the others spoke.

“Oi, Jackson. You could, I dunno. Explain?”

His partner jolted looking over his shoulder. “Shit I forgot they were here.” He murmured, causing Annabeth to laugh.

“This is Annabeth, a daughter of Athena and Alabaster, a son of Hecate.” He explained. “These guys are Hazel, Frank and Jason, they’re Romans, Pluto, Mars and Jupiter. Then, Piper and Leo, Aphrodite and Hephaestus.” He smiled at the two of them. “Annie and Al are uh-“ He blinked, Alabaster noted the faint blush spreading on his cheeks.

“His partners.” Annabeth supplied. “We’re his partners.”

Alabaster snorted. “Yeah come on water boy. You embarrassed of us?”

“Well, not Annabeth.” Percy responded easily.

“Rude!”

Percy laughed, kissing his cheek. “You love me magic boy.”

“Wait so you had a boyfriend and a girlfriend this whole time?” The curly haired boy, Leo, asked. “And you didn’t tell us?”

“I thought they were dead.” Percy pointed out with a deadpan expression.

“Surprise, I guess.” Alabaster mused.

“Good surprise. I’m glad you’re not dead. Because if you were, I don’t know what I’d do with myself after this war was over.”

[lifesver]

@f1rstcut cont. from here!

❝ come — on —! ❞ he slams his palms against the door, angry, grief-stricken. again, and again. he throws his shoulder into it. all it does it make noise, send bolts of pain radiating through his exhausted frame. the door doesn't budge. hasn't budged. they're trapped in this fucking room, still. he hits the door again, something like a choked sob catching in his throat. his hands feel numb. ❝ — please... i'm sorry. ❞ it barely comes out as a frayed whisper, this time.

your fault. your fault —

his ears ring. he knows the dripping sound is from their dead friend, in the room over. leland almost doesn’t hear maria speaking to him. everything sounds so underwater, warped and pitchy, and maybe like it’s happening to someone else. god, he wished this was happening to someone else. his eyes take a moment to meet hers, glassy and snapping to focus. she’s scared. so is he. and he doesn't know what to say. what will make any of it better. what the hell will bring their dead friends back. he feels like he can't breathe without tasting rot. blood. feels the sick spatter of it on his face, where the fissure in the wall hadn’t spared them the mess of chainsaw teeth tearing through flesh and organs and— god. god. what the hell is happening to them? he can still hear her fucking screaming.

red, red light, red room, red hair, limp and tangled around connie's shadowed face. this is all your fault, you should have been there —

his knees want to buckle, sudden headrush making him sway slightly on his feet. his stinging palms slide down the cold metal, defeated as he stumbles back from it. maria’s hands coming to frame his face are the closest thing he has to an anchor on reality, and leland crumbles apart easily at her touch; ❝ sorry, i’m — i’m sorry. ❞ he stammers out, voice a strained rasp. ❝ i should have. i didn’t… why'd i let her go alone? why — ❞ he didn’t realize he’d started crying. quiet sob shaken from him as hot tears spill down his cheeks, over maria's hands. she bleeds into water colour in his vision.

he should have been able to protect them. at the campsite. here. when they’d gotten separated, caught out by the monsters hunting them through these god-forsaken tunnels. there were too many of them. he couldn't keep her safe. can't stop thinking about how scared she must have been. thinking she was all alone, when they were so close. so fucking close, and he couldn't do anything while that monster —

his mouth runs senselessly; ❝ i can’t — we can’t leave her out there. maria, we… it’s not right. we have to do something, they can't — ❞ he's half incoherent, shaking badly through the shoulders. he knows, maybe, there's nothing he can do. he knows there’s nothing fair about this. despite how his world tilts and falls away around him, he tries to use what he's feeling for something. anything to keep his grip on reality. mindlessly, he brings his hand up to the side of maria’s face, mirroring her. carefully thumbing away the fresh blood. connie's blood. she was so hesitant to come along on this trip. she knew it could be dangerous, but she came anyway and —

leland feels sick. he remembers talking in the light of the campfire, not even half a day ago. with their sleeping friends all around them. they had thought they were safe.

unsteady, he refocuses on maria, dragging in a harsh breath as he tries to listen to her words. she needs him here. she needs him to keep it together. she's alive. you found her. you have to be strong. and if you can’t be strong for real, you just have to fake it. just keep faking it.

leland blinks fast, nods minutely; ❝ o — okay. ❞ confirmation is weak, and hiccupped around the overflow of tears. but he steels himself as best he can. tries again; ❝ okay. y — yeah. okay. ❞ he can. he has to. he can’t let maria down. can’t give up. can’t feel sorry for himself. he has to get them out of here. keep moving. keep breathing. don't think about it. don't think about it. his head still pounds. pain lances up flaring knife wounds all along his back. but whatever he was feeling must be nothing compared to maria.

teeth press together stubbornly against the threat of another bout of welling in his chest. he looks to maria, half-helplessly. ❝ what... what should we do? ❞

[hoodies-monster-ranch]

*Destino stumbled towards Helix, looking like they're about to fall. They brace themselves.*

Destino: heyyyyyyyyy............ how's it going.......you're so brave......for having orange be a thing....I couldn't pull off orange.....like I can pull off a lot of colours.....but orange....damn.....that's just....urgh.....good for you......can I just say........I hope things go well for you......you know???? Like....don't tell my buddy Felix this......but you deserve things......why am I even brining him up.....

This was a trip, right after defusing a fight and getting kissed on the knee there was someone saying they could pull off orange.

They knew it was because this person is stressed, they had gotten in a fight with their best friend and now want some validation… but it was weird to say the closeness was…

Making them feel warm, like weirdly so.

The touch of someone was nice, even as they were sitting the Absol down in a chair and trying to make sure they had air.

“If it’s ok… let me get you some water ok? Sober you up, I know how alcohol can fuck you up the first few times.” As if helix hasn’t also been downing wine like there was no tomorrow.

“Stay right there ok?”