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#then i thought “oh man a comic is too much”
birdbrainedboy · 1 day
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I’m obsessed with this show and fear a hyperfixation anyways here are my thoughts on every character in the show
Edwin Paine: forever my favorite, even back before the show when I read the comics! I think it’s funny that basically every man in the show wants him? I’m intrigued by his character arc throughout the story regarding his sexuality as despite dying in 1916, he seems to have had time to slowly become more accepting of gay people (I’m guessing in part due to Charles, who is pansexual), to the point where there’s only mild internalized homophobia if at all, which just exhibits itself in him denying any possible feelings for Monty. I love how face-value and logical he is while still being a sweetheart
Charles Rowland: he has a pan flag pin on his jacket which confuses me bc can ghosts only wear clothes they would’ve worn when they were alive, or how do ghost clothes work? Because he died in 1989 and I’m near positive he didn’t wear that pin back there. Anyways I do love him but I wonder about some design choices, like the one earring (not sure why it just kinda annoys me). That was more a rant abt his design than his character, which I have nothing notable to say abt since I LOVE HIM he’s so real
Crystal Palace: sometimes she was a bit annoying the way she was trying way too hard to pry into everyone’s lives, but honestly that was just momentary annoyance since nothing could make me hate her. I love how her past was slowly revealed (as someone who already knew it from the comics) and how she came to terms with the person she used to be vs the person she is now. She’s so cool!
David the demon: honestly kind of caught me off guard at first bc the person I’m dating is named David but I actually enjoyed his character. LOVED when Crystal dealt with him in the end. He was very interesting
Niko Sasaki: I love Niko, but I have some problems with her character. First of all, I feel like ditsy anime-loving cutesy Asian girl with dyed hair is a weirdly common trope? But whatever my main issue is that it feels like characters who normalize the fetishization of gay men are so common. Like if Niko had been a guy obsessed with lesbian manga evb would be weirded out, so why is it different? If we ignore all of this tho I absolutely adore her and I’m actually praying she’s in the next season bc she was one of my favorites (esp her relationship w Edwin)
Jenny: She is so hot and cool and funny I’m in love with her
Esther: oh my god words cannot come close to describing how much I love her character. She felt powerless and weak in the past and now she’s become obsessed with making sure nobody has that power over her ever again. She was so fun and I loved her attitude! I’m sure she won’t show up next season, as she was the main antagonist of s1, and while I love her, I kind of hope she doesn’t since I think her arc was finished.
Monty: His personality was like 2020 “soft boy” who acts nice and dumb but is lowkey a manipulator. So obviously this kind of made me like ☠️ bc why is he acting like that… but I still love him to bits because he’s just a crow guys he didn’t ask to be human,, Anyways yeah his personality annoys me but also I love him so much so? It’s confusing. ITS COMPLICATED. I will cry if he’s not in s2
Kingham and Litty: I honestly thought they were annoying but I can’t lie they were so fucking funny. Every time they were on screen I laughed.
Cat King: oh my god. He is so camp. I love him. There’s honestly not much to say he is simply iconic. Love how he’s afraid to be alone so chases after other people, he’s so real AGHH I love him
Night Nurse: Ruth Connell the woman you are… 😍 she reminds me of Muriel from Good Omens, in a way, and I love her! I really hope we get to see more of her in relation to the guy in the fish, and see her get to better understand human emotions and why they choose to cling onto the human world rather than pass on!
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aibyoutachi · 6 months
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its still freaking pocky day here
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 21 days
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Simon taking care of you when you accidentally injured yourself. Just fluff cuz I need fluff :D .
cw: pet names (princess, love etc.)
“Simon, I’m home!”
You opened the front door, only to see Simon sitting on the couch. Hearing your voice, he raised his head from the book he was infatuated with these days, and a low hum left him as a welcome.
“I’ll go shower first, the weather’s hot as hell, and I’m stink.”
You tossed the key onto the plate, nonchalantly passed your lover, but Simon could sense the difference in your movements.
“Stop.”
He stood up from the couch, and came straight towards you.
Oh no, you’re so fucked up.
“Hey, Si! I’m dirty! put me down!”
Simon ignored your yelling, scooping you up and over his shoulder.
“Don’t move.”
He demanded, and you swallowed hard when he grabbed your left ankle, and lifted the trouser legs.
“You’re hiding this from me?” His coffee-like brown eyes narrowed in disapproval, throwing you daggers while all you could do was let out a sigh.
“Sorry, Simon. Don’t want to concern you.”
Crooking his eyebrow, Simon darted his eyes back to observe the wound on your left calf. A long, deep cut went across half of your flesh, blood just managed to stop dripping, and fortunately didn’t stick your injury to the clothes.
“Where do you get this?”
“The parking lot of the market. Didn’t see a rock and stumble over it, and the pin sticking out of a wall dug into my leg when I tried to steady myself.” You shrugged.
You knew he was worried and hated to see you get hurt, that’s why you try to sneak to the bathroom and deal with it yourself. Simon’s eyes softened when he learned how you get yourself injured, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t allow you to do things alone for at least a week.
“let’s go shower.” He picked you up swiftly as if you weighed nothing, and you just melted into his touch.
“You gonna help me?” Even though you knew the answer, you still asked when he strode to the bathroom.
“You think there’s other options?”
“... No.”
“Good Girl.” planting a kiss on your forehead, he kicked open the door.
“Close your eyes, don’t want to sting them, love.”
Your satisfied grumble when his hands attentively scratched your head made Simon chuckle. He put you in the warm bathtub, and the little chair looked comical under his bulky stature, but you didn’t laugh at him this time, instead focusing on his hands.
His hands, working magically through your hair, carefully not to tug your hair with too much strength. The hands that always protect you, the hands that are littered with scars, soaked with blood, but massage your shoulders when you are tired, shuffle your hair when you playfully argue with him, place on your belly when he hugs you from behind and whispered his affection to you.
He reserved all his tenderness to you, and you wondered why you were lucky enough to have this man as yours.
“Told you to close your eyes, love.”
You smiled when Simon finally discovered you had been staring at him from the start.
“Am I not allowed to watch my beautiful husband?”
“Don’t complain when the sud run into those pretty eyes then.” He huffed out a laugh.
When it came to you, he just couldn’t do anything but surrender to your adorable cheekiness. He thought when he couldn’t help but give your cheek a peck.
You sat on the edge of your bed now. Simon had dry your hair, and made you put on your underwear and his black shirt.
He was kneeling in front of you now, picking through the gauze and disinfectant. He seemed to find all the things he needed. Placing them aside, he took your ankle in his hand again.
“It’ll hurt a bit.”
He traced circles on your thigh to soothe the pain when he sprayed the antiseptic on your wound and waited for it to dry.
“You’re doing well, love. We’re almost finished.”
He cooed when he saw you blinked away a tear hanging on the corner of your eye.
Nodding, you watched him cover the wound with gauze and secure it.
“Thank you, Si.”
You chanted softly when his thumb caressed on the tape. Simon didn’t let go of your ankle when you thanked him, but landed a kiss beside the gauze.
“A spell for faster healing” The childish glints in his eyes were obvious when he lifted his head to meet your eyes.
“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person, baby.” You poke his cheek with a laugh.
“Guess there’s more of me yet for you to figure out.
He threw the bottles back into the medkit, and finally stood up after kneeling for ten minutes.
“Anything you want now, princess?”
“cuddle with me, Simon. The wound hurts.”
“Who’s the one trying to hide it thirty minutes ago?”
Lying on your back on the bed, his blonde hair shined under the light, but not brighter than the languid smirk he wore on his lips.
“Are you saying you don’t want to cuddle with me now?”
“Are there other options?”
“of course not, handsome.” You worm yourself into the comforter, and beckoned him to join you.
Slump down on the bed, he wiggled himself into his usual cuddling posture, arms snaked around your waist, and covered your belly with his palm.
“Anything for you, love.” You felt he kissed the shell of your ear when your eyes closed under the coziness.
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 months
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After Starcourt, Steve finally managed to get a date. He actually liked her, too. She was nice, smart, and completely smitten over the fact that he was fond of the kids he babysat. Apparently, she didn't take it too well that Dustin followed him onto his date. She left before Dustin came back from the bathroom.
"Hey, where's Lydia?" Dustin asked.
"Oh, her parents called the theater. Apparently, there was a family emergency," Steve shrugged.
"Oh, that sucks. You were really looking forward to it," Dustin frowned. "More popcorn for us."
He made his way over to the concession stand. Steve didn't have the heart to tell him the real reason why she left. Dustin's had a hard time lately since the mall, and from what Claudia told him, he's been having nightmares lately. He didn't have to say anything, but Steve figured the reason why Dustin's been clinging to both him and Robin lately was because he felt guilty about them getting hurt. Robin had agreed with him on that theory. He didn't mind it much. He loved spending time with Dustin, someone he thought of like a little brother, and he knew Robin had come to think of him like that, along with Erica. It was where Robin was currently at "babysitting" for the Sinclairs while they had their own date night. As much as she complained, Erica had wormed her way into Robin's heart. Once they got their drinks and popcorn, they found a couple of seats up front.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" A voice asked.
"No," Steve replied with looking, and he almost did when he felt leather brush up against his arm.
"Steve?" Dustin asked.
"Yeah?"
"Your date stood you up because of me, didn't she?" Dustin asked.
"What? No!" Steve said quickly.
"You're a terrible liar, Steve," Dustin whispered. "But that's okay, Steve, I still think you're my brother."
"Well, you know, if she doesn't understand that my little brother is important to me, then she's not worth my time," Steve whispered.
"You guys are terrible whisperers," a voice from Steve’s other side said. "Also, totally adorable."
Steve turned and found that Eddie Munson was sitting on his other side.
"Do you know this guy, Steve?" Dustin asked.
"Eddie Munson," the man himself introduced. "Didn't know Steve Harrington had a nerdy little brother."
"I adopted him," Dustin replied. "Besides, Steve’s not just a jock. He's a nerd, too."
"No, I'm not," Steve scoffed.
"Please, I found the comic books under your bed," Dustin hissed.
"What the hell did I tell you about going through my stuff, you little shit?" Steve hissed back.
"You really are brothers," Eddie grinned.
"Hey, Eddie, you're a guy," Dustin said suddenly.
"That's what it says on my birth certificate," Eddie replied.
"Do you know why a guy would keep his muscle magazines with his playboys? Do you think it's a jock thing?" Dustin asked.
"Oh my god!" Steve exclaimed, mortified.
Steve could feel Eddie watching him with curious eyes, and he waited for his reaction.
"You know, it must be a jock thing," Eddie said. "I think if I were your brother, I'd give you hell for digging through his private things."
Dustin sighed and rolled his eyes, but Steve took this as a sign that he's thinking about how wrong he was. The movie was about to start. Suddenly, Eddie leaned so close to him that Steve could feel his hair tickling his cheek, his breath in his ear.
"It's not just jocks who put their muscle magazines with their playboys," Eddie whispered and paused briefly, moving in closer until his lips were brushing up light against his ear. "Big boy."
Eddie sat back in his seat, leaving Steve flushed. His heart was pounding in his ears, and suddenly, his crush on Eddie came roaring back. Steve cursed mentally as he tried to focus on the movie and not on the fact that Eddie was leaning more heavily against his arm. His pinky was brushing up against his. At some point, Eddie started running over his hand, drawing circles into his skin. His touch was setting him on edge, and it was making his brain go all fuzzy.
"Bathroom," Steve said gruffly and stood up quickly.
He was grateful that there wasn't anyone in the bathroom when he went it. It allowed him to catch his breath. It was crazy how one single moment could bring out all of the feelings that he shoved inside of him when he was just a freshman, a freshman who has seen the most beautiful boy ever. He honestly hadn't felt this way since Nancy, and honestly, it was baffling. Just one little moment, and he was crazy about him again. Suddenly, the door opened, and Steve looked through the mirror as Eddie walked into the restroom. They made eye contact, and he raised a questioning eyebrow at him as he locked the door. Suddenly, Steve was moving and pressing Eddie up against the door as he kissed him. Eddie pulled him closer by his hips as he kissed him back. Of course, it didn't last long before someone wanted in. They broke the kiss, and Eddie quickly disappeared into a stall before Steve could unlock. The man walked in and frowned at him.
"Uh, the door got stuck," Steve said.
"I heard the lock, young man," he said.
Steve slipped by him and hurried back to his seat. Eddie soon came back, a grin on his face. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and started writing his number on Steve’s hand.
"Call me when you're ready to have a date without your brother," Eddie whispered. "I really do appreciate people who collect lost sheep."
Steve grinned. Things were looking up. Suddenly, he was very grateful that Lydia stood him up.
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milksuu · 6 months
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Sorry, Mom. I'm The New Cleaning Lady For Heartsteel
Pairings: various!Heartsteel x f!reader
Status: on-going (Cross posted on AO3)
Content/Warnings: 18+ content, explicit themes, suggestive language
Summary: Identity theft was a crime—that was obvious. But when it meant paying off the bills for basically existing and your mother’s hospital expenses, committing a felony didn’t seem like a bad thing. It was like that one quote, from that one band, with that one hit song: “Two sides to a story but they never tell me side.”
Or…something like that. Wait, what was their name again? Heartsteel? Sounds like a dating sim game.
[Reader takes the identity of her mother, who had been hired to be the new cleaning lady for an up and coming boy band named ‘Heartsteel’. Obviously, there’s no way they would ever find out. But that was a joke. Because they’re definitely finding out: one by one.]
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“You…brought your own cleaning supplies?”
“You always need to be prepared, young man,” you replied, adjusting your duck-yellow cleaning gloves. They squeeked and flopped comically around your hand and fingers. 
“Ma’am, you do understand today is solely the house tour.” The man folded his arms neatly against his chest, white brow raised. “In order to rely on you fully, you’ll need to be familiar with the estate first. I thought we discussed this beforehand. That and…we have cleaning supplies to provide you with here.”
You paused at the grand modern entrance. You lifted your bucket full of sponges, brushes, and cleaning spray from the dollar store. 'Buy-one-get-one' on all cleaning supplies was the grand deal of the day. How could you pass a penny-pinching bargain? Swallowing your shame, you settled the cheap items on the pristine granite floors. 
“Oh, is that so? Must’ve slipped my mind. Age will do that to you.” You forced a chuckle, adjusting your sterile mask across your youthful face. “That and, I have such a passion for cleaning. I can't help myself. I see the inside of a house, and I just have to clean it. I’m sure you could understand that.”
“I don’t believe I could,” your employer said dryly. “Anyway, if you will, follow me.”
You nodded and shuffled along accordingly. As you stared into the back of his immaculately pressed business attire, a new-found horror struck through you: you had no clue what your employer’s name was. Frantically, you scavenged your pockets. From it, you pulled out a business card, holding it so close to your face you smelled the tinge of clean cologne.
YONE
RIOT RECORDS
DJ / PRODUCER
TELEPHONE:  XXX-XXX-XXXX
“The bottom floor consists of all of the amenities; gym, entertainment area, recording studio and so on.” Yone stated as he stepped into the open-kitchen plan. When he regarded you again, you awkwardly plunged the card back into your pants pocket. “The boys have their own scheduled chores every week. They’re expected to do it without you having to help them. I’m trying to keep them humble, but easier said than done. Refer to the chore calendar on the fridge. And try not to interfere with it too much.”
“Okay—who switched my protein powder with flour?” Behind an opened cabinet, a heavy-muscled stacked man growled. “Guys. Seriously. This stuff’s expensive. Where’d it go?” When he poured the contents out into the trash can, he plucked out a note from the bottom of the canister. The small print read:
‘Protein powder tastes like dog food.’’
The weight of realization punched him square between the eyes. He threw open the pantry, where dog kibble was stored in a tub at the bottom marked ‘Ernest’. Sett pulled open the container, and sure enough, found his  protein powder and scooper. There was no mistaking his favorite smell of cinnamon crunch isolate, now mixed with the scent of dry-bacon kibble. Another note pasted the inside lid:
‘Woof–Woof ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ’
“A–phe–li–os,” the name gritted between his canines. His ears flattened against his untamed hair, and crumpled the note to dust in his palm. “Oh–Ho. Mess with me all you want; but never mess with my gains. I’m gonna’ prank him back so hard tonight, he’s gonna’ be begging me to stop.” 
“Sett,” Yone coughed, grabbing the Vistayan's attention. “We have a guest today. Our new cleaning lady.”
“Oh, sorry about that.” Sett wiped his powdered hand against his sleeveless shirt. He reached and took your rubber glove with a squelch. “Hey, how’s it goin’, Ma’am. The name’s Sett.” 
You swallowed hard, hoping your glove would remain securely covering your hand. You feared if he pulled back, he would reveal a hand that wasn't so wrinkled for someone supposedly in their late-fifties. And that was according to your mother’s age printed on her driver’s license. Thankfully, you could tell he restrained himself to a delicate shake.
“Would talk more but gotta hit the gym. Nice meetin’ yah though,'' Sett started away, and called back over his shoulder. “Mom, can you take care of Phel for me? I dunno' where he hid the dog food for Ernest.”
Yone exhaled a silent sigh, and part of you felt pity for your employer. He seemed like a parent with a tag-team of overbearing children running around the house. Being a single parent was difficult; you knew this first hand from your own up-bringing. It made you grateful for your mother’s patience and attention. It was the reason you were here in the first place. 
“Let’s continue with the tour upstairs,” Yone said, motioning you to a loft-style staircase. “The second floor consists of all the bedrooms and laundry room. At the end of the hall is my room. As it stands, it’s completely off limits to everyone, including yourself.” He turned a sharp chin in your direction, “Am I understood?”
You gulped and pressed your shoulders straight. “Of course.”
“Mommy, help me!” A bed of green hair bounced to Yone’s side, tugging at his tailored suit. “Kayn’s bullying me again. But I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”
“You’re such a crappy liar.” The presumed assailant, Kayn, stomped out of the hallway bathroom. Magenta hair stuck to his furrowing brows. With just a towel wrapped around his steaming waist, his abdominal muscles tensed, pointing aggressively at his target. “I was trying to shower in peace, until bubblegum pop princess over here came barging in trying to take selfies of himself. Did you know people usually shower naked? I’d like my junk not to be posted on social media, unless I’m the one doing it. For cash.” 
“It’s not my fault you’re always going over your shower limit. News flash: we each only get fifteen-minutes. But you’re always breaking the rules! You know I take my selfies at the same time, at the same place, every single day. So how about you do us all a favor, and get some better time management?”
Kayn raised a vein popping fist into the air. “How about I get you a better face instead?"
Ezreal cried fake sparkling tears, cowering further behind their producer.
“Enough. The both of you,” Yone tightened around his words like a leash, restraining the quarreling pair. “For once, I’d like for you two to at least pretend you get along in front of others.” 
The two whined and grumbled under their breaths till they fell to a silent agreement. But the peace treaty wasn’t upheld for long. You saw a zap of yellow from the corner of your eye. The image was so fast, you thought you must’ve imagined it—Nope. You definitely saw something. Kayn’s towel knot popped loose. And it wasn’t caused by an event of divine intervention.
The towel billowed towards the ground. And the world felt as if it was turning in slow motion, like one of those car chase movies with excessive explosions. Except, the only explosion here would be your very own heart.
Sure, you took an anatomy class here and there. In high school, you remembered the penis joke’s and games, and they never flustered you. Heck, not even when your friends set your desktop screen to a .gif of dicks spinning in circles—you found that hilarious. And when anatomy classes began in college, they were all very clinical, rudimentary, and otherwise a snooze fest. 
But seeing one in real life when you’ve never had a boyfriend or a one night stand, was truly groundbreaking. Earth shattering, even.
Penis (en)counter: 1
While you were stuck in your prison of naïve embarrassment, Ezreal laughed and pulled out his cell phone, camera light shuttering a mile a minute. 
“You little shi—!” Time sped forward again. With fast reflexes of his own, Kayn whipped the towel and knot back in place. “That’s it. You’re dead.” 
“Uh–Oh. Time to run again,” Ezreal quipped, zooming off down the stairs.
With all bark and full bite, Kayn vanished like a cloud of smoke in pursuit. You coughed against the smog, while Yone merely swatted his hand back and forth, dissipating the gray wisps.
“You’ll have to excuse them,” he commented. “They share the same room, but have vastly different personalities. I arranged most of them together, thinking it’d help them understand each other on a deeper level. And ultimately, help them perform better together in the studio and on stage. My efforts are…yet to be determined.”
“That’s alright. Can’t be easy for young men their age to share anything. Especially with them being full of energy, testosterone, and other things. O-Oh, to be young once more…ah-ha…” you laughed nervously. Oh, God. What the heck were you saying? Honestly, you had to give pardon to yourself. You were still trying to recover from seeing your first penis up close and personal.
The image would be forever burned in your mind.
You were pulled from your self-conscious thoughts. Down the hall, a pair of shadowed eyes peeked through a sliver of door and frame. When your gaze locked together, the other pair of eyes shifted shyly from side to side. As if a poltergeist existed within the room, the visage faded back into the uncanny crack of darkness. The door creaked closed, with an audible click and lock.
Yone pursued straight to the door, and you stood a few paces back. If there was any chance that a ghost was inside living rent-free, you wouldn't be the first it possessed. You weren't a certified Ghostbuster.
But you also weren't a certified Dustbuster, either. No one will know, know one will know, you chanted the comforting hymn. 
“Aphelios. Open the door. I know you’re in there. I can see the computer light flashing,” Yone stated, rattling the door knob. “Where’s the kibble for the dog? Sett told me you have it somewhere.”
There was a beat in the air. From behind the door, you heard feet pacing back and forth, and the sounds of finger taps against a phone screen. Yone’s phone pinged with an alert. He pulled it out, and opened his text messages.
‘I can’t open the door all the way. I set the bucket of dog food to fall on Sett’s head when he comes in. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ’
“For the love of…no more pranks today." Yone pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. "But I doubt you could even manage that. Whatever trap you’ve ensembled, take it down—now. And put the dog’s food back in the pantry. Unless you want to donate a cut of your earnings every month to Ernest’s pet store bill.”
Another pause, followed by begrudging phone taps. 
‘Fine, m O T h E r…(¬_¬")’
“That might take him a few. Depending how intricate the set up was. I would be surprised if the only thing involved in this scheme was just the dog food.” Yone motioned you back down the stairs. “Last thing to see is the outdoor space.”
Continuing with the tour, you passed through the lower floor, stepping down a hallway decorated with awards and magazine clippings. From commercial modeling gigs to sold out venues, your eyes glistened at the polished look the group was slowly cultivating. Which you had to admit, completely contradicted their personal lives.
When you reached a sliding glass door that stretched from floor to ceiling, you stepped out onto a landscaped deck. Lush modern garden trims, a shaded outdoor lounge, and smooth sandstone pavement decorated the space. At the backend, an infinity pool rested in pristine stillness. 
At the head of the pool, a person of sculpted bronze physique posed in swimwear on a lounge chair. When you approached along with your chaperone, he picked up his tropical drink, and tilted it in a cheering gesture.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mama gracing me with his presence. And look's like someone else is with him, too.” The man basking in the sun's rays and oil slicked, shucked his sunglasses onto his dread locks. “Let me guess. This must be the new cleaning lady you hired to pick up after our mess.”
“To a certain degree,” Yone replied. “But not all of the mess, K’Sante. Out of everyone, you should know better.”
“I only joke, Mama.” He grinned smoothly, taking a sip of his frozen alcoholic refresher. “Say, have you seen Sett? I told him to come join me for a tan by the pool. If he wants his muscles to truly pop, he needs to use some oil and not be allergic to the sun. The man is whiter than the sky is bright today.”
As he laughed to himself, Ernest left his chew toy at the far side of the pool, and came to sniff your shoes. With a smile, you slipped a very small piece of your long sleeve up, allowing him to sniff at your skin. The dog lapped his tongue around his slobbering chops, barking delightedly and pawing for you to pet him. You were more than happy to oblige.
These gloves came in handy after all, you thought pleasantly as globs of saliva fell in heaps over your fingers.
“What’s this? Ernest taking a liking to the cleaning lady already,” K’Sante mused at the sight. “Barely warmed up to us when we first met. We won’t mention the illegal trespassing but, call me impressed.” 
With a wink, he flicked his sunglasses back down to the bridge of his nose. “That or he has a ‘ting for older women. Can’t say I blame ‘em. An experienced woman has a certain power that’ll make any grown man cry. And from my own experience, it is never for mercy.”
Oh, boy. You couldn’t imagine your mother being interested in the cougar life-style. Not that you would approve of it. And you were certain your father would descend from the heavens and deliver the backhand of God to any young man who dared otherwise.
Before Yone could address the unsavory statement, Ezreal burst through the backyard sliding doors. Still possessed with laughter, he hopped and skipped over pool chairs and tables. The merriment stopped short when Kayn caught up to the cheeky idol, snatching his wrist which held the phone. From the staggering halt, the phone slipped from Ezreal’s hold, somersaulting towards the pool. 
“M-My phone!” Ezreal paled at the thought of losing thousands of stored photos of himself—Oh, and the blackmail photos he was going to use against Kayn, too. 
Yanking his wrist free, Ezreal pursued the device. But Ernest’s rubber hotdog toy squealed beneath him, forcing him off balance. Kayn latched an arm around Ezreal's slim waist, and pressed him safely against his bare chest.
He huffed against Ezreal's ear. “You can’t swim, you idiot. Remember? Just let it go.” 
Ernest barked at the surmounting commotion. Being the valiant guard dog with the perfect pedigree, he bounded on his thick paws to catch Kayn by the towel, with all the intent to keep them both from falling in. What a good boy! Unfortunately for Kayn, Ernest bit a bit more than he could chew.
Kayn’s voice bass boosted ten-octaves lower. “MY DAMN ASS!”
W-Whose voice was that? Was that even the same person? The thought rattled through you.
A chunk of Kayn's soft meat condensed in the jaws of a furry devil. A shock travelled up the nerves of his spine, into the the muscle fibers of his arm, shoving Ezreal forward. Ezreal flailed his hands in the air, desperate to find some semblance of balance—with no luck, at all. Fumbling on his tip-toes, Ezreal plummeted into the pool with a splash. Kayn stumbled from the after-shock of his spirit being bitten straight through his buttcheeks. His feet met the cursed rubber squeaker, sending him following suit into the pool. Except, the towel had its own plans. It decided to stay behind and not get involved.
Penis (en)counter: 2
“I heard some commotion, fellas. What’s goin’ on?” Sett stepped out from the sliding doors. He caught witness of Ezreal’s face treading water, gasping for bouts of air. Sett’s muscles popped at the sight, barreling towards the scene. “Don’t worry, Ez. I’m coming for yah, buddy!”
Sett launched himself into the air, preparing the most athletic Olympic dive ever conceived.
Kayn inhaled sharply as he broke through the water's surface tension. Recuperating his breaths, he slicked his wet hair back from his face. Looking down at the waters crystal reflection, an odd shadow grew in size around him. And according to the forecast earlier; there was no chance in Hell of clouds or rain. Lifting his nose to the darkening sky, he blanched in sheer horror. A body, massive enough to eclipse the sun, hurled down like a meteor descending to Earth.
What day was it today, Doomsday? He must've forgot; Kayn never bothered to look at calendar's, anyway.  
Back to the painful mistress that was his life; a weak, painful moan escaped him. “You can’t be serious. This isn’t the cool death I deserve—”
Those were Kayn’s final words. A wave rivaling a tsunami consumed him, a random pizza chair float, and the immediate surrounding pool area. Standing in the designated splash zone, pool water soaked your soles, leached into your socks, and dampened your pants to the knees. From K’Sante’s spot, a shot of chlorine or two spiked his drink. He snatched his sunglasses off and shouted the words; “This was the last bit of banana daiquiri mix, you aboas! Now I have to go down to the liquor store and hope they sell it frozen already.”
Yone, with all the grace anyone could hope to be blessed with, merely side-stepped away. A single speck landed on his polished shoes. He narrowed his steely eyes, flicking away the insignificant drop.
You caught something flashing on the second floor of the estate. Looking up, you shielded your eyes from the glaring sun. From one of the windows, you spotted someone holding up a sign. You assumed it was Aphelios. The poster read:
‘4/10 Ezreal. 6/10 Kayn. 10/10 Sett.’
With a dramatic burst through the water, Sett hurled Ezreal over his massive shoulder, and walked out of the pool. Placing Ezreal onto his soaking back, he coughed and gagged against the awful taste of treated water.
He smiled at his new-found savior. “Thanks, Sett. I’m fine, but what about Kayn…”
The group shifted their attention over the silent, lapping water. After a bubble or two, the sight of Kayn’s bare bottom surfaced to the top. Floating like a wet and rounded land-mass, with the additional landmark of a pink dog-bite. 
“Kayn! Hang in there, pal!” Sett launched himself once more into the water, creating another wave of soaking magnitude.
Although the drink had already been spoiled, K’Sante reflexively covered the top of his daiquiri glass. “For God’s sake, Sett. Take your time. It’s not like you’re saving the life of an innocent man.”
As chaos continued to ensue around the gang, Yone placed himself at your side. With a shake of his head, he crossed his arms, and sent a ghost of a smile your way.
“Welcome to Heartsteel,” he said. “Your first day starts tomorrow.” 
Looks like your identity was safe…for now, at least.
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an: thanks for reading! the rest of the this story will most likely just be on my AO3. You can find me @ milksuu. comments and suggestions always welcomed. <3
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
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Synopsis: A new lieutenant comes to your base—a hot one. Ghost isn’t happy.
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
Word Count: 1,334
Notes:
I haven’t thought of a title, so I’m replacing it with a picture of Ghost’s expression that perfectly captures the fic’s concept. Let me know if you think of one.
Platonic fluff, duh.
Warning: Lots of swearing ahead of you, British slang as well. Told you, he’s not happy.
UPDATE: there’s a Part 2 now. Things get messy.
Want more?
———————————————————————
The rumour mill went into overdrive as soon as the ‘new guy’ arrived at the military base that morning. A former special ops legend with impressive credentials; what’s not to love?
But it wasn’t just his military skills that had everyone talking; it was also his appearance. Rumours of his Adonis-like looks had spread throughout the base, and everyone was dying to catch a glimpse of him. Even the mess hall was dominated by talk of his stunning looks.
What did you think of him? Well, you prefer to take such things with a grain of salt and not put too much stock in them. After all, beauty is a matter of personal preference, and no single definition applies to everyone. So you wanted to evaluate things for yourself.
Okay, fine. Yes, the rumours were true—the guy is exactly as they described him.
The new lieutenant stands tall and proud in front of the line you’ve all formed, his wavy hair coiffed into a deep side part with a thick fringe swooping over one eye. His chiselled jawline is accentuated by a short, perfectly groomed beard, and he gives everyone a brilliant smile as if he’s auditioning for a toothpaste commercial. His voice is booming and almost comically enthusiastic as if he were trying to engage a class of children. He gives orders by pointing at soldiers with gun fingers and winking, causing some of you to stifle giggles.
“All right, soldiers, pay attention!” he says, clapping his hands like a cheerleader. “Today’s tasks are routine: cleaning, organizing, equipment repair, and inventory taking. And, hey, if we pull this off, I’ll buy everyone a round at the local pub! How does that sound?”
Some of the soldiers exchange skeptical glances, wondering if this guy is for real.
But Ghost? Oh. My. God.
Ghost’s agitation becomes too hard to hide as the new lieutenant speaks. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, moving frantically as if eager to be anywhere but here. His eyes keep rolling back as though they’re searching for some leftover patience in the depths of his skull. You keep staring at his crossed arms. They’re so stiff that his muscles must ache from the effort. It’s as if he’s trying to keep them in place, so he doesn’t unleash them and back-slap the hot lieutenant’s pretty face. That, or he’ll let out a primal scream any second now.
“Y/N,” he turns to face you, and you stand at attention, “you’re on border patrol with me today-”
“Y/N is staying with me at the office today,” Ghost opposes him. “There’s a lot of paperwork that needs to be done.”
“Can’t you get someone else to fill out the paperwork?” the man asks, shooting Ghost a wink and a grin.
“Can’t you get someone else to help you with border patrol?” Ghost winks back at him and turns to face you. “Y/N, on your feet, c’mon,” he says, walking towards the building.
You exchange glances with the new lieutenant and shrug. This is too awkward.
“WHENEVER YOU’RE READY, SOLDIER,” Ghost commands, and you dash towards him, brushing past the new lieutenant, who also happens to smell amazing. Of course, he does.
“What the fuck is wrong with you today, Lt.?” You whisper as you run behind him, “where’s the camaraderie we discussed during yesterday’s briefing?”
Ghost shoots you a glare over his shoulder. “Just trying to keep my paperwork safe,” he mutters.
“What’ll happen to the damn paperw-” you proceed to ask, but then evaluate his words; you’re the paperwork.
At the office…
He’s reticent as he sits on his desk—not like he’s a social butterfly any other day, but today, he seems angry. Almost hostile. His eyebrows are tied together, his restless leg syndrome is back, and he takes too many cigarette breaks compared to what you’re used to. He answers your questions with one-word statements when—and if—he acknowledges your presence. Yesses and nos are all you’ve been getting since you entered the office, with the occasional “tsk” he might utter while he looks at his papers.
“Pass me the stapler.” He commands.
“Magic word, Ghost.”
“Pass me the fucking stapler, please.”
You slide the stapler over to his desk. “You’re rude today, Mr Riley.” You comment, turning your focus back to the laptop’s screen.
He doesn’t reply in the form of words. Instead, his feelings manifest themselves by aggressively stapling the papers together.
“Perhaps you’d like me to ask for the stapler by winking at you?” He finally mutters under his breath.
“Like the guy that came in today?” You scoff.
Oh, you have his full, undivided attention now. He turns his chair towards you and leans his weight on his thighs as if you’re about to tell the most exciting story.
“What do you think of him?” He asks.
You flick your wrist dismissively. “I don’t know him well enough to form an opinion. I prefer to reserve judgment until I get to know someone.” You give him a pointed look, hoping to convey your message without having to spell it out for him.
“He’s a fucking bellend, I’ll tell you that much.” He mumbles in response. Guess the message got lost in transit.
“Come on, man!” You shout and punch your fist on the table, “it’s obvious that he’s got you rattled.”
“He’s not rattling me!” Ghost protests, but his defensive tone betrays him.
“Sure, he’s not,” you reply sarcastically, “that’s why you’ve been chain-smoking and stapling papers like you’re trying to murder them.”
Ghost lets out a deep sigh and rubs his temples.
“Is it his looks?” you ask.
“No, it’s not his looks,” Ghost rolls his eyes, “I’m much better looking than him, that’s for sure.”
“Are you...I don’t know, intimidated, maybe?” You shrug, “because you’re worried he might take your place as the top dog around here?”
He looks at you incredulously. “What are you talking about? I’m not worried about that.”
“Sure, you’re not,” you smirk. “That’s why you’ve been acting like a total jerk all day.”
He looks up and sighs. The poor man looks like he desperately needs an ego boost. Beneath Ghost’s tough facade there’s Simon, after all. And Simon is a human being with the same insecurities and worries as everyone else.
“In any case,” you say, trying to comfort him, “nobody takes such douchebags seriously in the army. And I get it; the guy’s trying to make a good impression and all, but, my God, he needs to chill with all the...” you start winking and pointing gun fingers left and right.
He’s so happy he lets out a sharp chuckle. “He’s a fucking nobhead, isn’t he?” He asks, “trying to take charge and acting like he knows everything.”
“Indeed,” you reassure him, “and that cologne, I almost fainted as I passed him; how could you stand beside him for so long?”
“Don’t ask.” He shakes his head.
You reach over and give his arm a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it, Ghost. You’re the most respected operator here,” you say, giving him a small smile, “just do me a favour and give the guy a chance; he has so much to learn from you.”
He nods. “I wanted to neck slap him so hard,” he mumbles, “knock his pretty white teeth out.”
“Which are fake, by the way.”
“Are they?” He asks, shocked.
“100%.” You reply with conviction as if you are the guy’s dentist.
“I knew it.” He yells, slaps his hand on his thigh, and turns his chair back to his desk.
You look at him from the corner of your eye. He seems much more relaxed now. Hopefully, he takes your advice to heart and proceeds with the same resilience and leadership he does on the battlefield. Or, maybe, you temporarily diffused a potential conflict, and the captain will have to get involved pretty soon. Who knows. At least he feels confident in himself now, and the guy’s teeth will live to see another day.
———————————————————————
Part 2 ->
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bg-brainrot · 1 month
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More than Vampiric Charms (Astarion x Tav)
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Summary: After some banter between Astarion and Jaheira goes too far, you (Tav) take some time to remind Astarion that he is so much more than a pair of fangs.
Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, Blood, Blood Drunk, blood as a coping mechanism
A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted for this banter in my last poll! This was a fun one c:
Word count: ~3.2k
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Walking through the streets of Baldur's Gate is always an adventure with your group– a particularly fraught adventure on this day, as Jaheira and Astarion seem hellsbent on trading barbs.
It had started out playfully enough, with a snide remark from Astarion, "Oh that building used to be a delightful little sweets shop about a hundred years ago. Though I suppose the crone would remember that, wouldn’t she?”
Jaheira, used to remarks about her age, often being the one to start them, was ready with a quick quip back, “Was that before or after your hair turned gray? With my old age, I can never remember.”
Astarion visibility bit back a remark about this being his natural hair color when you glared back at both of them. “Could we focus a bit please? You two can reminisce after we’ve seen to this latest bloody basement.”
One trail of blood, a disgusting array of corpses, and a piece of clown later and the two of them were at it again.
“Jaheira,” Astarion had started in a light tone– a clear indicator that he had no intent to focus. “Have you considered taking on the role of Dribbles the clown yourself? The makeup might help cover all those pesky wrinkles.”
The druid had snickered, appreciating the comment, and shot back, “I think you would be better suited to the role, given you are already a fool.”
That time, Karlach had interrupted, “Don’t either of you dare! No one could replace this Baldurian hero.”
“Which is exactly why we’re helping to piece him back together,” you’d confirmed with a nod. “Besides, you’re both cranky enough to make the children weep.”
“Darling!” Astarion had gasped, an offended hand on his chest. “How could you say that about me?”
You’d ignored his question, instead choosing to deposit a quick kiss on his pursed lips. A soft, effective bandaid that left the man with crossed arms and a reluctant smile. 
Moments later, you were ushering the group out of the building and into the city. Insults forgotten, everyone began trudging the familiar path back to the Elfsong to clean up.
Now, along this very path, you hear Jaheira strike up a new conversation with Astarion– one that has your ears perking up, even as you continue to lead the way ahead.
“It seems that you and our leader are closer than ever,” the woman observes, a smile in her voice.
There’s a moment of silence, and you can practically see Astarion’s suspicious expression in your mind’s eye as he assesses the situation. “Yes, you could say that,” he finally replies. “What can I say? I am, after all, quite charming.”
“I am glad it is your non-vampiric charms our friend has fallen for, Astarion.” A short, thoughtful pause follows before she asks, “It is, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” Astarion responds, his voice reaching a comically high pitch– one that almost makes you laugh. You want to hear this conversation more than most though, so not a sound escapes your lips. The vampire scoffs before he continues. "Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?"
There’s a clear hesitation as Astarion’s words hang in the air.
You wonder why Jaheira isn’t responding, what her expression must be– but before you can turn around to find out more, Astarion is speaking again.
“If you insist on prying,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit pointedly. “Perhaps you’d care to join us. And see how much we enjoy one another.”
The insinuation in his tone is almost enough to have you spinning around– teasing Karlach or Shadowheart is one thing, but Jaheira? Gods, you can feel the heat rising up your neck– “Why?” Jaheira snaps back. “Do you require some instruction on how the deed is done?”
“I’m sure even I could learn some new tricks from an old veteran such as yourself,” Astarion replies, mirth shining through in his tone.
Wait, is he actually inviting her?
You know you need to stop this conversation before it mortifies you any further. “Stop it, both of you!” you say, turning your head back, trying your best to keep a stern, not-at-all embarrassed expression on your face. “We don’t need the next installment of ‘Love at First Knife’ getting any more convoluted.”
There’s some grumbling from Astarion, an amused smile from Jaheira, and a chortle from Karlach, but otherwise your group makes it back to the Elfsong without tearing each other– or their clothes– apart.
__
That evening, Astarion slips away.
It’s not an unusual occurrence– some days his hunger is harder to ignore than others, on some you hadn’t found nearly enough evil to suck dry. Ultimately, he never wanted to take too much blood from you, so he chooses to forage as he has taken to calling it.
As a result, you think nothing of it at first, settling into bed after dinner with a book propped between your hands. After all, Cazador is dead, and Astarion is more than capable of taking down some of the most fearsome enemies in the city– he should take all the time he needs to himself.
But the hours pass, and Astarion has yet to return. The candles around you begin to dwindle, words begin to swim on a page you haven’t turned in quite some time, and sleep slowly but surely starts to drag your eyelids down.
It has almost claimed you when the door to your shared room at the Elfsong slams shut. You hear groans from around the room as those who were similarly drifting off to bed are shocked awake, everyone expecting yet another unwelcome visitor. You almost don’t have time to react before an armor-clad vampire lands atop of you.
You do react though, instinctively striking at the man with the spine of your book, a loud ‘thwack’ letting you know that your contact was true.
“Oof,” Astarion mutters, now fully splayed across your torso like a stretching cat. “Darling, must you be so violent?”
“Astarion?” you ask, putting down your book, shaking off the beginning throes of sleep as you realize what’s transpired. “Weapons down everyone, it’s Astarion.”
After a few affirmative grumbles from around the room, you turn your attention back to the vampire, “Are you alright? Did you get injured?”
“Mmm,” he murmurs, burying his face in your blanket, and rubbing at the spot where you’d hit him. “Nothing's the matter. Everything is perfectly dandy.”
His words slur though and something seems to be amiss. His movements are fluid, his body weight is completely and utterly relaxed onto you.
Almost as if…
“Are you… drunk?” you haven’t seen him like this since the bear he drank near the grove. When you’d asked him the question then, he’d shrugged it off– but it was certainly the closest to drunk you’d ever seen him.
“Not strictly speaking, no…” he drolls, tilting his head slightly to stare at you with one eye. His cheeks are flushed, a telltale sign of his recent feeding, and his eye is glazed over, its blissful sheen telling you all that you need to know.
“Have a good dinner, did you?” you ask, smiling down at him wearily. You can hardly fault him for indulging, especially after the couple of weeks you’ve had.
He chuckles, his one visible eye crinkling a bit. “Oh yes. A rather large bugbear. Hardly knew what bit him.”
You run a hand through Astarion’s hair, and respond, “Well done, my sweet, bloodthirsty vampire.”
Normally, such sweet words of unabashed ​​flattery would elicit a smile, a laugh, maybe even a kiss– but tonight Astarion freezes under your touch, his eye going wide before he tucks his face back into the bedding.
“Astarion?” you ask, your previous worry about injury now promptly replaced by a worry of a much deeper hurt.
“It’s nothing,” he mutters, voice sounding distant.
You scratch at his scalp, a bit, trying to encourage him back toward you. “Love, you know you’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”
He gives a soft, annoyed huff– an endearing, drunken noise were it not for the fact that he seems determined not to look at you. And continue to crush you with the full weight of his body.
“Astarion,” you say again, with a bit more emphasis, shaking his head a little with your next scratch. “If nothing is truly wrong, I will wake up Karlach. You know she would love to see you in this state.” As if to punctuate your point, a snore sounds from a few beds over, where you know the barbarian slumbers.
“Please don’t,” he murmurs, finally turning around to look at you fully.
You’re surprised to see his eyebrows furrowed, his lips turned down in a truly melancholy frown– always an expressive man, it seems that Astarion’s intoxicated demeanor is twice as exaggerated. Cute, you think. But also concerning. “Love,” you whisper, running a hand along his face. “Talk to me.”
Astarion hesitates, his watery eyes wincing as he debates his next words. Those same red eyes show an unexpected amount of vulnerability– all that bugbear blood is keeping his expression open, his entire face a rosy hue. His mouth opens, closes, his body shifts, and he fumbles with the latches on his armor as he thinks. You simply lay there, playing with his curls until he’s ready.
When he finally speaks, his words take you by surprise.
“You don’t just like me because I’m a vampire… do you?”
“What?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. Surely, you misheard him.
“You know,” he continues, waving a hand about the air. “My vampiric charms. The fangs. The blood sucking. The mysterious allure?”
“Why in the nine hells would you think that?” You reach a hand out to grab his, tugging on it gently to try to get him to sit up.
Astarion’s eyes drift away from you, but he does sit up, legs draping over your stomach. “Just… because of something Jaheira said.”
Oh. The conversation you’d been eavesdropping on.
“Do you mean what she said earlier? On our way back to the Elfsong?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Well, yes,” he mutters, still not looking at you. “Though I can’t help but notice you haven’t answered my question…”
“Astarion,” you start, releasing his hand, only to place it on the slightly flushed skin of his cheek. “No, I do not only like you because you’re a vampire.” Your words are firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
His eyes meet yours again, and still you can see so much doubt, so much unmitigated fear. “Are you certain? You truly do seem to enjoy it when I bite you.”
“Well, that’s true,” you admit with a small wince. It does feel rather… good when he bites you, it would be a lie to say otherwise and, besides, you’ve told him as much before. “But that’s not why I like you, you fool.”
Astarion’s bottom lip slips into a small pout and he moves away from your hand. “You’re not very convincing, you know? Especially when you call me a fool.”
You scooch out a bit from under him, leaving your legs under his. With all of the severity in the world, you reply, “If it makes you feel better, I’m a fool too.”
“You are?” he asks, curious despite himself– easily falling for your little trap.
“A fool for you.”
The noise that escapes him is half groan, half chuckle, and his mouth pulls into a lopsided little smile that you’re not certain you would have earned were he not a bit blooddrunk. “Gods, how the hells did I fall for you?”
“Now you’re asking the right questions,” you respond with a smirk on your face. When you place a hand on his knee, the smirk turns into a small smile. “But I’m being genuine– I don’t like you because you’re a vampire. And before you ask, I don’t love you because of your vampirism either.”
He gives a small huff. “Well, Jaheira made it sound as if there wasn’t much else to care for.” An uncharacteristic admittance from him– normally he would brush off such a statement with a proud declaration of how phenomenal he is. But it seems that Jaheira’s words cut deep– and that blood has loosened his lips.
“Jaheira, despite all of her many, many years of experience–” you enjoy the full laugh that elicits. “simply doesn’t have my refined taste. There are so many reasons to like you, love. In fact, vampirism doesn’t even make the list.”
“Oh, you’re keeping track, are you?” he asks, folding his arms and body over his legs and smiling up at you.
“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning forward toward him. “Would you like a sampling of reasons?”
The look he gives you then is hopeful, but more than a little dread slips through in his shining red eyes. When he answers, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Only if you mean them.”
This withdrawn, unsure Astarion isn’t a common sight to you, but, like every other facet of the man before you, he’s no less lovable. So you lean forward, placing a kiss on his pale forehead, and say, “I mean them with my whole heart.”
“Then�� I suppose I ought to be lavished with them," he murmurs, and you spot the blush intensifying over his cheeks, now also coloring his ears.
Coupled with his fluid, inebriated state, his heart laid bare before you, you want to scream the reasons from the roof of the Elfsong, if only for him to believe you. But, as it is, the soft snores of your companions keep your voice hushed, your face close to his as you begin.
“Let’s see… should I start with the first thing that stood out to me?”
He hums in agreement, and closes his eyes, as if preparing to listen to the sweetest tune known to the entirety of Faerun.
“Well, it started with your first lie, I think,” you start.
Astarion gives a disapproving groan, but doesn’t open his eyes.
“My dear, you said you said you had a ‘brain thing’ cornered– I hope you know the smile on my face wasn’t from confidence,” you say with a new, fond smile at the memory. “I just knew from that moment on, you didn’t much care for what others thought of you, as long as your goals were met. A kindred spirit. Or so you said that day.”
At that, he reopens his eyes. “That’s not true.”
“We’re not kindred spirits?” you ask, an unexpected tinge of hurt blooming in your chest.
“That’s true,” he says, balming the hurt quickly. “It’s not true that I don’t care what others think of me. I do. Well, maybe not everyone.” His eyes dart toward Gale’s bed and you stifle a snicker. “But I certainly care what you think of me.”
You look into his crimson eyes, a bit clearer now than when you began talking– the blood seems to be working its way through his system. His words come from a place of honesty, not a lack of inhibition.
“Then, let me assure you here and now,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I think–” Another quick peck on his lips. “you’re the funniest–” A kiss to his nose. “the most deft–” A brush of lips against his temple. “creative, endearing, brave–” Each word comes with a kiss along his jaw. “man I’ve ever met.”
Astarion’s eyes look at you, his face still for a moment as he considers your words. When he finally speaks, it’s a quiet, choked up question, “Oh, is that it?”
“Would you like me to keep going?” you ask, lips perched just above his eyebrow, ready for another round.
He shakes his head ever so slightly. “No– no need or you’ll be here all night, surely,” he says, posturing as best as he can while still looking at you with fearful eyes. Almost as if your candid praise is simply too much for him to bear.
It may be too much, and you’re not one to push it.
“Very well,” you say, pulling back. “But I didn’t even get to how good you look covered in blood…”
The man gives a light laugh at that, some of his nerves melting before praise he understands– his appearance is a source of comfort, one that brings him back to himself. “Oooh yes, I do look dashing in red, don’t I?” he purrs, a content smile forming on his face.
“That you do,” you assure, with your own warm look. You wish he would accept all praise this easily, but you suppose this is all you can do for now.
So little of what matters to you is his vampirism, his looks… but for a man like Astarion, for whom a kind word felt like a double-edged blade for two centuries? Well, you’re reminded that regardless of how many times you may tell him, whether now when he’s a bit fuzzy around the edges or when you’re in your cups, he may never truly believe you.
No matter, you suppose. I’ll simply keep finding new ways to show him how much I care for him…
“So Jaheira was kidding, right?” Astarion asks, sitting up and finally beginning to remove his leathers.
You nod, moving to help him remove his greaves. “Naturally. I thought you’d been enjoying the conversation, actually.”
“I had been,” he replies, thoughtfully. “But the more I remembered how sinfully you shiver under my fangs…”
He’s dodging before you can so much as flick his ear. “Excuse you. Is that any way to treat your most reliable source of sustenance?”
Astarion smirks as he leans away from you in the bed. “Oh darling, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, you can’t help it.”
“Astarion–”
“Ehem!” You hear from somewhere behind you. It’s followed shortly by Shadowheart’s annoyed voice, “Would the two of you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to rest.”
If by ‘rest’ she means ‘reach the end of her copper novel’, then you suppose she’s right. Either way, you whisper back, “Sorry, I was defending my dignity.”
“What dignity?” she murmurs back. “And in case you’re wondering, you’re both utter fools.”
Oh great, she’d heard everything.
“Shadowheart, were you eavesdropping?” Astarion asks, crawling over you to glare at her from the edge of your bed. He’s half-dressed and still somewhat out of sorts, so you just lean back against the pillows and accept your fate.
“Is it really eavesdropping if I can hear it all clearly?” the cleric says, and you hear her book snap shut. “Besides, Astarion, if you really needed someone to reassure you, you should have asked me.”
“You?” he asks, incredulously. “And why should I ask you?”
“Because,” she starts, and you can hear her wicked smile in her tone. “I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no such thing as ‘vampiric charm.’ I’ve never felt less charmed in my entire life.”
You can sense Astarion is just about ready to light Shadowheart’s hair on fire, so you tug him back down from the divide. “Thank you for that clarification, Shadowheart,” you call, biting back a laugh. “And I’m starting to realize none of us really have private conversations, do we?”
“No, we do not,” you hear Gale reply from a few beds away.
With that, Astarion gives an exasperated sigh and the two of you finish removing his armor in silence.  When you’re both finally ready for bed and you whisper to him, “Goodnight.” Shadowheart, Gale, and Wyll all respond, “Goodnight!”
537 notes · View notes
marwhoa · 8 months
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request: You write the turtles boys so well! I literally can't stop smiling when I read your fics - they're so sweet and endearing. I was wondering, only if it strikes your interest of course, if you'd consider writing about the boys being jealous of each other when the reader spends time with them one on one? Like, maybe a slot for Leo where he thinks reader finds Donnie funnier? Or one for mikey, where he thinks that reader likes how big raph is? Or for raph, where he thinks reader is more enamored with Leo? Or Donnie, where he worries that Mikey is flirting with reader? Of course they're all misunderstandings, and maybe it could end all fluffy with confessions and comforting their respective boy? If not, don't worry, but if so, thank you! 1 look forward to whatever you put out next.
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🝮 “ green with envy ”
rise!boys x y/n
author’s note: screaming profusely !!! eeeee !!! So hey yeah here’s a fic, this took a while because it sat in my notes for days before I finally posted it, my bad. This was kinda hard cause I’m not experienced in the realm of jealousy—hopefully y’all like it? ᗡ: also does envy even fit this scenario? Lmao I just be naming these fics any thing, can y’all tell?
word count: 6.1k
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┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Leo 💌
Leo never expected he could ever become… jealous, not him—no, no, NEVER him. He had too much pride, too much confidence. There should have never been any room for doubt in his ability to keep you focused and adoring on him, and him alone.
But, perhaps he had given himself too much credit? Or, maybe he had given his twin too little credit.
It wasn’t as though you were his. Just friends, and technically that meant you belonged to the whole family, not just him. But, no one could blame him for coveting you. From how starry-eyed you looked at him to how genuinely you laughed at his jokes, Leo found out too late that he had been falling for you, and here he was still falling. The way your nose crinkled when you laughed, or how your face lit up during Mikey’s dinner times, even down to the wheezing laugh you would give into if he pushed his jokes on too long, all of it spelled out lovely disaster for his heart.
But, fear not, he thought. He was the face man and the funniest turtle, surely there was no competition? No one could be better than him at getting you to make the faces you did.
Or well, it should’ve been no one. He wasn’t even all that funny, but Donnie managed to get you to keel over to some stuff he said—and he didn’t even intend for them to be jokes! A natural comic, can you believe the nerve of this guy?
So, yeah, Leo never expected himself to be jealous, and especially never towards his own brother, but god the way you were showing that tickled-silly expression to Donnie, wiping tears as he confusedly asked what was so funny? It had him gripping the arm of their couch, digging his nails into them. He wasn’t going to take this any longer! Sure Donnie meant no harm and would never try to swoop in and steal the prize he had his eye on, but Leo couldn’t help but still be… aggravated.
The pent-up annoyance was dispelled by the red-slider leaping over the couch, sassily walking over and snaking his arm across your waist.
“ Yeah, whatever, Donnie is sooo funny, but hey, Y/N, let me show you something better! ”
Never mind the fact that he had nothing planned as he twirled his katana in his other hand, slicing the air until a blue portal shimmered into existence. You glanced back and waved good bye to Donnie, fully intrigued by whatever it was Leo wanted to show you.
“ Oh—okay! What is it? ”
“ Who am I to ruin a surprise? ”
He cocked a brow at your question, tugging you through the portal and stepping out into the courtyard of the Witch’s city. While amazed, you wondered just what this had to do with anything—but, of course that was a comment you would keep to yourself until having fully exhausted the excitement of exploring not just any random town, but rather a town of witches!
“ Oh, Leo, finally! I’ve been begging you to bring me here for weeks! ”
Before he could even say anything, you were quickly rushing up to the nearest shop and sparking up conversation. Such a busy bee, but it was just another aspect of you he was captivated by. However, with such an impromptu visit to a rather overwhelming area, he found chances to spark conversation and get you to laugh to be stretched few and far between.
“ Oh wow, this store really doesn’t leave mushroom for walk-through, huh? ”
He gestured to a potions-ingredients shop, which, you guessed it, specialized in all things fungal-based. His shoulders drooped as you continued ahead, not even hearing him. That joke was gold! Huffing, Leo caught up with you and laced his fingers around your wrist, effortlessly stopping you in your tracks.
“ Mm? Leo? ”
You stared up at him with such a look of focus, all your attention finally fully on him, and he had to fight his legs not to reduce to jelly instantly. Instead, he took a deep breath, cocked his head, and insisted you follow him.
Down weaving alleys, through crowds of people, eventually you reached a park unlike any seen on the surface. The paths were lined with thick, luscious plants cultivated through the town’s magic. Foliage swayed with no wind, as though dancing like silk fabric to whatever music only they heard.
Your attention only left the plants when you heard Leo start clearing his throat and then flashing you a look that you recognized all too well. A grin was already tugging at your lips, and Leo finally felt like he was the only one in your world again. His hands held onto his belt and he kicked out his legs, faking as though he were tipping a hat. It seemed like some western cowboy impersonation?
“ What in carnation? ”
There you went, first with a light and short laugh.
“ Well I do say, I took a leaf of faith bringing you here,”
Which then melded into a series, topped with a “ Wait, Leo, hush—please! ”, all stuttered and peppered through your increasing laughter.
“—but, beleaf it or not—“
He wasn’t even able to finish the entire spiel before you were holding onto him, laughing with such a melodious voice. Which, of course, devolved into your trademark wheeze n’snort after dragging on too long.
“ Pwffhaaha!! Leo, wha-what’s with you today? ”
You wiped away a tear, and suddenly Leo was finally brought back to reality. Your hand on his forearm lingered, and he was just completely beside himself with how the glowing willows beside the garden softened your face ever-so-perfectly.
“ Y/N… ”
His voice was so uncharacteristically soft that it had you a tad bit spooked, hand gripping a teensy tighter. Your head cocked slightly in confusion.
“ I.. Ugh, okay, it’s—it’s dumb! But—“
He dragged his hands down his face, groaning exhaustedly.
“ I thought, maybe, you might’ve… Liked Donnie, more than me. ”
“ Huh? Why would you think that, I love all of you guys? ”
“ Yeah, but I love you, and—“
The shock painted on your face had him holding his breath. Alarms went off in his head, telling him he maybe should have held his tongue, not jumped ahead so quickly. The two of you searched each other’s eyes in silence, you recovering from what he said, and him preparing himself for what you would say. Soon enough, your face twisted into a confusion tinged with a bit of playfulness.
“ Wait a second.. You’re jealous, aren’t you? Of Donnie? What for? ”
“ What? What do you mean what for? You, you’ve been laughing at everything he said all day, don’t you think he’s funnier? Don’t you like him more?! ”
If it weren’t his dumb puns and act earlier, it was this that would do you in.
“ Leo, you dummy! Sure I was laughing, but that doesn’t mean I like him more than you, I just, well… ”
It was your turn to be a bit bashful as your eyes looked everywhere except him.
“ I, well.. You’re my favorite, Leo, not Donnie.. ”
As you batted your eyes at him, hoping he would connect the dots thoroughly, your answer was given in the form of his beaming expression as he swept you into his arms, spinning.
“ Ah-hah! So you do like me—and I’m the funnier turtle!? ”
“ Oh no, I shouldn’t have said anything, now you’re too powerful! ”
Playfully you cried, leaning back with your hand dramatically draped across your forehead. Leo chuckled at your antics leaning in to lay his head against your stomach as he tightened his hold firmly.
This was definitely something he would rub in his brother’s face later on—and said brother would be profusely confused by what brought it on???
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey 💌
Mikey was the last turtle you ever considered could suffer from the classic ailment of “ jealousy ”, and you couldn’t help but feel both ashamed yet intrigued.
While you weren’t too sure what it was that had got him so riled up, you were observant enough to see the way his eyes lit up with a startling emotion. At first it was impossible to pinpoint, just a glimpse of something indiscernible yet startling that crept into his blue hues at the oddest of times.
The first time you had seen that frightful emotion peek its head was during a date. The two of you had decided to hit a bar late at night, him donning a cloaking brooch, of course.
When you arrived, the loud music was entrancing, luring you both onto the dance floor to get lost in each other’s arms. The music coiled around you both, closing the gap to a suffocatingly tight end, as if either of you couldn’t stand any sort of distance apart. The floor vibrated, from both the booming speakers and the music reverberating the whole building alongside the dancing bodies around you both.
Mikey beamed with the brightest smile, and you just knew he was laughing, albeit drowned out from the ambiance. You were both having the time of your lives. Absorbed into a bubble fit for only the two of you, eyes locked on each other, neither party was ready for the stranger’s hands that snaked around your waist, pulling you in without any mind paid to you already having a devoted dance partner.
Chills set in and you turned to Mikey instantly, locking eyes, but the look in his eyes was enough to have your voice hitch in your throat.
That night ended with you both getting kicked out after Mikey wailed on the guy, but after a while, you both laughed and talked all about the fight on the way home.
The next time you saw that look was when you were hanging out with Leo while waiting for Mikey to return back from patrol. He had invited you over, and you planned to do it after wrapping up a few things, so he figured he could finish a patrol and be ready for you when you got done.
Unfortunately for him, you happened to finish your escapade much too early, and thus were at the lair awaiting his return. Leo happened to pass by, so you roped him into a conversation to bide the time. When Mikey did eventually come home, he stepped in to see you nearly keeled over in laughter.
You had been laughing so hard that when you noticed Mikey, you gave a weak wave and continued dying. He was curious what the joke was, but Leo simply shook his head and left, his own laugh dwindling down the hall. Once you recovered and were on your feet, you caught that same scary emotion swirling in his eyes. He tightened his lips and only softened when he turned to you.
More and more questions arose as you came to experience this look time and time again in all kinds of situations, but the one that finally made all the clicks pop into place was his outburst after you were with Raph.
He had been taking care of some villains on patrol with Mikey when you had ended up in the wrong place, wrong time. Their battle had turned to a violent one, with the villain bashed straight into a wall. Debris crumbled down right as you turned the corner, eyes shooting up to see parts of the building falling towards you. There was no time to move, so you just closed your eyes shut right and braced yourself.
But, no pain ever came, just a bit of dust. You opened your eyes, seeing a huge shadow casted over your body, and when you looked up?
It was Raph, who blocked the falling debris with his mighty shell.
“ Raph! “
You yelped, heart thundering in your chest, and Mikey misunderstood the shimmer in your eyes as Raph rose to full height, throwing the concrete off and away. He misinterpreted why you hugged him so tightly when he scooped you up, taking you away from the damage and ushering you to run the other way.
When you’re focusing on the wrong things, it’s easy to get the signs wrong, and boy had the ache in Mikey’s heart got everything so totally wrong. You liked Raph, didn’t you? Why else would you look at him like that? Did you like it when folks were bigger than you, unlike him who simply had an inch or two on you?
How could he be so stupid?
So, that’s how you ended up where you were now, seconds from entering your apartment when Mikey met you with a sour look on his face. You noticed that same glint in his eyes, still trying to piece together what it meant.
“ Why didn’t you tell me? ”
His voice wavered, and you responded with a hum of confusion. Inviting him in, he closed the door behind you both. His lips tugged down as he searched everywhere for the words to say. Finally, he found them and settled back on you as you were putting things down and unwinding.
“ With Raph! You like him, don’t you?! ”
“ Wha? ”
“ You—You! ”
He seemed frustrated, wracking his brain until finally he threw his hands out and shouted.
“ DO YOU LOVE RAPH MORE BECAUSE HE’S SO BIG?! ”
Silence blanketed you both as you processed his words. Finally, you placed a word on the emotion you always saw in his eyes. Struggling not to laugh at the absurdity, you snorted and shook your head.
“ Jealousy! That’s wh—wait, no, Mikey, no, I don’t ‘Love Raph cause he’s big’ ”
“ Then why do you like him more!? ”
“ Where is this coming from, Mikey, I don’t like Raph like that—I like you. ”
You stepped closer, and Mikey let you in. Your hands reached up, cupping his cheeks, and he leaned into them with such a desperation that you felt bad for finding this whole situation so silly.
“ Just, you always seem so happy when he’s around, and whenever he saves you instead, you always.. ”
His eyes were elsewhere as he spoke, almost as though he were seeing the absurdity in it all now with a clearer mind.
“ Ahh, mhmm, yup, alright so Mikey usually people are very happy when they’re saved from danger—and I mean, I probably look happy cause I’m friends with him too, but I’m dating you, silly. ”
You booped his snoot, smiling as his eyes lit up with the love you were accustomed to seeing them full of.
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Raph 💌
If there was any one of the brothers full of insecurities, it would come as no surprise as the spotlight shone upon the red turtle, atop the winner’s pedestal. As someone who once led his brothers in the face of battle, who grew up with the elder sibling curse of forced parenthood, it came as no shock that there were a couple of problems sprinkled into his character.
While he had spent much of his life up to this point recovering and healing from what dared chip at his exterior, there was more than a few bits of stubborn grime that lingered on his surface. It ate away at him, leaving behind vulnerabilities.
Then you came along, and throughout the honeymoon period he experienced nothing but delights. Never had the negative Nancy in his brain perked up to talk her shit, misleading him in circles until he was a mess of unbundled, tangled up rope.
You were a light, something that seemed to power wash the grime away, cake over it with your delicate touch and sweet words. Much smaller than he, you were probably one of the kindest humans he met, someone he cherished more than life itself.
And that, in and of itself, was a vulnerability. You were his weakness, and the shrewd dark spots in his brain couldn’t wait for the rose-colored glass to shatter and let them sink their teeth into this beauteous opportunity.
The sensible part of him knew your kindness knew no ends, that it wasn’t limited or excluded to simply him or a select few. In fact, your sweet demeanor shared with his brothers? It was a breath of relief—it was an understatement to say he had been nervous to introduce you to the family. You were okay with him because he saved you, but his brothers and father weren’t present. They hadn’t been the heroes slamming down against concrete, scaring away the silverfish that preyed upon you one fateful night.
Turns out the trash-eaters had a hankering for good food, and you, all alone, on your way back home with a doggy-bag from Cleo’s Beach Shack, served to be the perfect target.
The night had been quiet, albeit suspiciously so, but your full tummy and weary limbs had their guard fully down. You daydreamed of the bed awaiting you at home, arms beckoning you forth with pillowy softness.
That delightful image was disturbed by the sudden rustling and clank you heard from behind. Turning, your eyes shooed away dreamland and were alert. An empty can rolled from a bush, tinking into someone’s trash can at the curb. Not a soul in sight, so surely it must have been one of New York’s infamous rats? Y’know, that creature that is practically extinct in this city, like there’s no way you would ever see them—definitely not at the metro nor the coffee shop, and surely never this residential street with primo rat hot-spots such as unsupervised trash cans full of food waste.
Yeah, of course, must have been a rat. You’re so paranoid, just hurry on home, nothing bad will happen. Nothing bad ever happens to pretty little guys like you, alone on dimly lit streets, lined with houses whose doors are locked to high hell.
Nothing bad, especially not like the cold metal that clamped firmly on your ankle. Never anything as worse as the chilling growl from whatever tripped you up, glaring with red eyes and flicking a long, sharp-looking tail.
“ Oh sh—“
Your voice feebly complained, raising into a scream to the heavens above as it lunged towards you.
Or well, towards your to-go bag, but who’s paying attention to the little things like that when your life is flashing before your eyes?
Thankfully, the end never came. There was the sound of a growling struggle after a tremor shook your shivering frame, and as you opened your eyes to peek at whatever held up your attacker, a silhouette towered over you. He casted a long shadow over you, which should have been intimidating as hell, but instead it left you feeling…
Safer?
In his hand laid two identical buggers, squirming and chomping with animalistic hunger. This had to have been worse than the rats, you’d take the rats any day, at least they weren’t massive.
… well okay, they are, but this is a whole ‘nother level.
The most shocking part was this giant hero taking a step back, assuming the position of a pitcher, and launching the creatures into the distance. There may have been a glint shining, and was that the cheer of an audience you were hearing? No, that was your imagination, obviously.
But you were not imagining this guy in front of you. Much too tall to be human, unless it was some basketball lead who somehow had balls of steel to save a stranger.
Every warning sign imaginable was washed away without a trace as your savior turned around and shot a shaky smile, warm as a summer sun.
“ S-Sorry about that, are ya okay? ”
He spoke with the timidness of someone a fourth his size, and you couldn’t help but be completely charmed to death.
From that day you would see him more and more, to the point that it felt as if maybe he had been appointed your personal body guard. Ah, but, you didn’t really mind, did you? You loved his company and his toothy grins. You adored his warm, gentle hugs, and it was too sweet how you could feel his hands tremble as they held yours ever so delicately.
So yeah, he worried to introduce you to his family, but the way you brightened up the room instantly had him starstruck. You’re perfect, that’s it. That’s the tweet.
The rosey glass shattered after a few lingering months of dating. His insecurities reared their heads, resting sharp grips on his shoulders as they whispered in his ears all kinds of falsities. You liked his brothers, but maybe you liked his brothers? Why else would you be so nice to them?
And, maybe that’s why you were smiling at Leo like that? Raph is right here, so why were you talking to his brother? He couldn’t even focus enough to heard you both holding the most mundane conversation ever about some shop that opened up over on Moore’s. He steeped in the tea of jealousy, filling his senses to the brim with worry.
The worst part about it was that if you liked Leo, he couldn’t even blame you. Leo was like water, while Raph was stone. Raph stood still, he could be bossy at times, while Leo was a spunky little river that would keep you on your toes. Leo was never boring, and he could keep a smile on your face for as long as the day lasted..
But he didn’t want any of that to be true. None of it.
The conversation was stopped by a meek voice asking for your time, attention shifting from Brother Blue to your beloved, clad in what became your favorite color in these past few months.
“ Y/N, can we talk? ”
Ignoring Leo’s nudge and teasing “ ooooooohs ”, you nodded with a smile, following Raph with a pep in your step.
“ Of course, dear. ”
That lead to the silence you currently shared—with him leaning against the wall of his room, gaze fixated on some smudges on the floor. That should be cleaned up, he thought, trying to not think of how you were sat on his bed, awaiting whatever it was he needed off his chest.
“ Raph? ”
You were the first to talk, already well acquainted with your love’s tiptoeing when it came to any sort of conversation that might be unsavory. You watched as he twisted his expression, tightening his lips—whatever it was, it was bothering him profusely, and you couldn’t help the pang gripping your heart..
“ Raph…? ”
Again, your voice seemed weaker this time. That was what gave him the drive to speak, he couldn’t handle leaving you in such a state, he needed to know if these worries of his were dumb!
“ Do you like Leo? ”
“ What. ”
Your response was so fast and curt, the product of being completely taken off guard with a left hook. There were plenty of other ideas you had for the direction of this conversation, such as having beaten his leftovers last week or how you have his favorite hoodie in your laundry basket right now. Maybe even the secret trips to Donnie’s, who was currently helping you get together a gift for Raph’s birthday next month. A particularly low worry even fretted that this might be a conversation about your relationship and how it should end.
But, instead it’s about Leo? What an easy question to answer!
“ Sorry, I didn’t mean that, I mean to say no. ”
Raph’s shoulders loosened and a breath of relief slipped out of him—when had he even started holding his breath?? Never mind that. You snorted at the absurd thought of liking Leo of all people.
“ Why would I like Leo? Raph, c’mere. ”
You held your hands out, and the way his hands fell into yours spelled out a desperation to be close to you. With a gentle tug, he climbed onto his bed, and you melted into his chest. A storm was brewing in his chest, his heart thundering nervously.
“ Ya just, Raph don’t know, something—he, just… Raph was worried, s’all. Afraid ya preferred him over a… ”
While he was searching for whatever word to insult himself with, you captured his attention with a gentle peck on the lips. Your fingers gently held his chin, turning his focus to lay fully on you.
“ Over a charming, handsome hero? ”
There was that adorable smile, peppering his lips as a light laugh erupted from his chest.
“ You think I’d prefer Leo, who is a risky little ticking time bomb, over my knight in shining armor? ”
He whispered a rebuttal, something along the lines of “ he really is, huh? ”
“ Oh Raph-a-doodle, never could I want anyone other than you. ”
Leaning up, you pressed your forehead against his and gazed into his eyes. They searched yours for a hint of deceit, for anything to latch onto and spiral about, but all he found was warmth.
Thus, the jealousy flame died out, and he plummeted backwards against his bed, dragging you down with him. He gave a heavy exhale as you giggled atop his plastron, scolding him for being so silly.
┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie 💌
The green of jealousy was a hue you never expected to be painted across the purple canvas you called your boyfriend, but surely there is a chance for any reality to blossom true, right?
Jealousy had sewn seeds far before either of you could catch on, oblivious to the roots which spiraled and narrowed vision to see only one option as opposed to the myriad of other reasonings. You had poured love into your dearest Donnie, so much so that you couldn’t even fathom any room for jealousy. How could he ever be jealous? Surely he knows full and well just how you look at him? Obviously he knows just how only he can pluck the strings of your heart, strumming love with each touch, in a way unlike any other.
Why, if you were Excalibur, then he was your King Arthur.
So, yeah, may the gods above forgive you for not considering a jealous Donnie as a reality to worry about—though, is it really too worrying? Your boyfriend being jealous? Kind of interesting, doesn’t it just trip up your heart into a flurry of skips?
No? Just me?
Anyways, you had missed entirely the shifting of his gaze when Mikey would enter the room. The low growl, the holding of his breath, none of it had appeared in your mind as you laughed along with whatever silly antics the youngest brother would get up to. Sometimes you would even entertain him! I mean, he is your boyfriend’s little brother, so it’s only right that you laugh at his jokes, get along with him, and all that good stuff.
But, jealousy was the type to hold someone still, to draw their gaze upon one stiff perspective and allow no other reasoning. For a man of science, even he was not above the laws of insecurity in relationships, so when he saw how bouncy his brother was around you, never did he contemplate the obvious. Nary a thought shall he consider that it was simply his brother getting along with his brother’s girlfriend, nor did he consider maybe you were being nice. No, the sour, bitter green dipped his head in the nastiness of jealousy, and all he could consider in this moment was that you must have liked his brother more.
Or maybe, his brother liked you and intended to steal you away? Why else would you laugh so heartily at whatever nonsense his brother spouted? Whatever reason was there for the times he would find you in the kitchen, fixing up dinner alongside Mikey? What else could explain you returning home with topside art supplies and personalized tips to his youngest brother?
Obviously the jealous mind of Donatello Hamato was going to omit one important factor: you did this with all his brothers. If they told a good joke, you would laugh. If Mikey made dinner, you were guaranteed to be in the kitchen helping by fixing you and Donnie’s plates to your liking. If there was something on the surface any of the brothers needed, you would totally put it on your errand run, delivering it during your next visit.
But, jealousy cares not for easy explanations. It craves the most dramatic interpretations, and in this case?
The juiciest interpretation was that Mikey had set his eyes on you, Donnie’s prized lover, and you had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker.
No, no, no, Donnie says, not on his watch would he let you be swept off your feet by anyone else.
“ Y/N. ”
Donnie leaned forward, fingers firmly locking with yours and giving an urgent tug. There was a thickness layered in his eyes that left Mikey shrinking away, confused as to what he could’ve done wrong.
“ Let’s go,”
Straightening up, he couldn’t help the grin widening on his face in a “ I’ve won ” type of manner. You simply waved to his brother.
“ You haven’t forgotten why you’re here, have you? ”
The look in his eyes caused your heart to skip, unprepared for such a heavy gaze that you hadn’t yet experienced. A nervous smile rose on your expression as you looked anywhere but the face giving you a look that would serve to make you fall even harder.
“ Of course not, Dee. ”
Donnie noted your refusal to eye contact, and instead of assuming it was one of your usual bashful moments caused by yours truly, his thoughts were plagued with theories of Mikey somehow worming his way into the heart Donnie swore was his.
“ Right. ”
He muttered in a curt fashion, leading you both to his lab.
The uncomfortable awkwardness blanketing the atmosphere had not gone unnoticed as you followed him, thumb stroking loving little hearts upon the upside of his palm. Usually he would meet this with a firm squeeze, but you could recognize when your genius had his mind up in the clouds. He wasn’t even paying attention to you, was he?! And to think you came all this way to entertain his experiments, hoping to get a kiss or two, only to be met with unnecessary coldness?
What the heck, man?
“ Prepare to behold the wondrous creations of the genius, Donatello. ”
Whatever stink he had been brewing in just seconds prior had evaporated as he unveiled his newest creation: an air-fryer that could quite literally create anything from thin air.
You tried to ignore the distant shout of the youngest brother, something along the lines of “ Hey! Where’s the air-fryer?! ”
Donnie had not ignored it, nor had he dismissed the stifled laughter from you that he surely knew the cause of. His hands clenched, wrapping into crossed arms as he leaned his weight into the table.
“ Annoyed sigh. ”
While rolling his eyes, he muttered an annotation to the peeved groan slipping his lips. There it was again, you noted with a narrowed gaze, that odd discontentment he’d been soaking in this night.
“ Alright, spill it. ”
You mirrored his lean, relying on one of the structural pillars in his lab to hold your weight. Your fingers thumped impatiently against your bicep as your eyes soaked in Donnie’s body language. He seemed to stiffen, either nervously or defensively, you didn’t know.
“ Spill what? ”
He spoke with such an accusatory tone that you were almost ticked off. You held your tongue, hoping to keep this civil and not devolving into mindless argument.
“ Spill wh—?! ”
Sputtering, your hands gestured wildly before quite literally framing him. He knew what you meant, he wasn’t dumb!
“ Whatever is making you so, so—so THIS! ”
His brow raised, and he almost seemed insulted as you threw your hands up with a frustrated growl.
“ Why are you so upset with me right now? What did I do? ”
That seemed to do the charm of dragging out what you’ve been looking for, the explanation, as he straightened his posture and pushed off the table.
“ Oh save me the innocent act, Y/N,”
Confusion painted your face, and for a moment he physically faltered, unsure to continue after such a clear display of hurt across your pretty face. After a second, his mouth tugged into a frown, shaking off the hesitation to continue his claim,
“ I know you like Mikey, so just do us both a favor and go scurry along after him. ”
Donnie waved his hand off, pointing to the door. Whatever look you had on your face at that moment must have embodied just how deeply the pain in your heart crawled, right on down to your very core, because he seemed to balk at his own words. A bit of regret wrapped around him as he muttered something too low for you to hear.
Tightening your lips, you straightened this time and took a few steps to close the gap between you and him.
“ You will not talk to me like that, and what’s this about me liking Mikey? Your little brother? ME? You think I like him?! ”
There was no way, right? He couldn’t be serious? You, liking Mi—he might as well have been your brother too! You could never like him over Donnie?! What an outrageous claim, you thought, standing your ground in front of Donnie. This could have been avoided if he had just not been such, such a…
“ Obviously! Why else would you be bringing him gifts and helping him out in the kitchen? ”
You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted as he continued with an accusatory finger pointing no where specific.
“ And I’ll have you know that I have read about ‘Cooking together’ and I know how much of an intimate bonding experience it is! ”
The childish stomp he gave, throwing his fists against his sides stiffly, served to diminish almost all the frustration bubbling up. You snorted at the sight, causing him to loosen up, confusedly tripping over his words to sputter out a “ Wh-What, what is this, what’s so funny? ”
“ … You’re a riot, Dee. ”
Wiping away the tiny tears pricking from such a hearty laugh, your eyes met his with less of anger and more of the warmth he was far too familiar of.
“ Since apparently I’m the only one of us with some sense, I’ll have YOU know that I do that for all of y’all! ”
Sheepishly, he seemed to curl into himself as you poked your index finger right into his plastron to emphasize the “ you ”.
“ I bring you gifts all the time—April, Raph, Leo, hell, even Splinter, too! ”
Jealousy was starting to burn away, leaving behind the bashful shame as he started to finally contemplate the more reasonable explanations for your behavior. Silently he condemned himself for starting up this whole dumb debacle with such a blatant disregard to the facts.
“ And of COURSE I help Mikey with cooking. You have a specific palette that he doesn’t always remember fully, so it’s up to me to make sure you get a fulfilling meal you’ll actually eat, dummy! ”
Ah, now that was the part that did him in, something he didn’t even know. Just as you were going to continue, he stepped closer.
“ Wait, you do? ”
“ I do—do what? I said a lot of things, Donnie, be specific. ”
Derailed, you stumbled over your claims, lost suddenly at which point he had cling to.
“ I thought Michael was just inconsistent in his preparation of my dishes, but since you say that, I do recall my meals being much better when you were around. ”
His hands had found their way upon your shoulders as he spoke, gaze flitting all across the lab as he collected his thoughts.
“ I had suspected meals were just better when you were around because, well.. ”
You softened as his gaze fell onto you.
“ Because you were there.. ”
Silence fell upon you both, except more comfortably this time. He exhaled deeply, marked with his trademark “ relieved sigh ” then smiled at you.
“ Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into such a ridiculous argument. I was just… ”
“ You were just… Jealous? ”
Your teasing gaze was searing through him, so much so he shut his eyes tightly and groaned annoyedly.
“ As much as I would wish to not admit it, yes. I may have been experiencing,”
He waved his hand in the air, as if collecting his words.
“ Jealousy, towards your interactions with Miguel.. ”
Donnie was relieved as you laughed away all his worries, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. The moment lingered for a few, as if desperately needed to mend this situation, stopping only when you pulled away.
“ Alright, you’re forgiven… For now—BUT! Next time just talk to me, dummy, you got me all riled up for no reason. ”
With that, you gave a playful shove that had him gasping as though he were insulted, and quick to rush to his experiment’s side with more questions than he could keep up with.
Not like he hated an attentive and questioning audience, though. Much appreciated.
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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silly low effort Vox x reader headcanons —
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Silly headcanons because Vox is one goofy piece of shit. It’s very comical actually. Like if you live together he would come home and literally just bitch and bitch about his day. Even if he actually considered it a good day, that wouldn’t stop him. Sings very loudly in the shower in hopes that you’ll hear him and tell him how great he sounds. No one fishes for compliments like this man. It’s really funny how he does it because he like give you prompts. “Oh yea, this afternoons live broadcast was, or at least I thought, one of the better ones of the week. What about you? What’d you think?” And then he’d hit you with the most insincere smile and blink at you expectantly. I think he’d work best with a reader who doesn’t play into his shit. He needs a reality check to get his ego in order, let’s be real. But definitely not one that’s anything like Val; AKA overly critical and negative. Give him a good amount of praise but not in a yes-man type of way. He already has too many workers like that. Like a good sincere, specific compliment would knock him flat on his ass. I said in a recent shitpost that was super ticklish and I meant it! The back of his head where his wires are and the sides of his stomach are his most sensitive spots. If you spontaneously attack you by tickling him, he’ll literally loose his shit laughing and be so caught off guard. ”Holy shit—hah— stop! Stop it—“ He’d practically seethe through violent giggles. “—y/n—pfft—this isn’t funny!” And then he’d pretend to be all pissed off after you finally stopped, but in reality he liked the attention. He likes to keep his walls up and not be vulnerable but, given the right approach, I don’t think it would be that hard to fluster him. I saw a headcanon where his eyes can make heart shapes and I second this. When you make him blush his screen would just light up brighter and his eyes would turn to hearts. Then he’d be like “God FUCKING dammit! Shut the fuck up, already!” because of how obvious it would be. He’d have to put his hands over his screen and turn away from you. But he’d be very annoyed the whole time which would lead to this comical pissed off blushy rage. He gets really excited about things easily, leading to a bunch of excess energy and he’d probably get really loud too. This doesn’t only happen when you’re watching something he’s really invested in, although that is the more often situation. You could be playing a board game and he’d get unbelievably happy if he was winning. Hell, maybe your just listening, really listening, too one of his ideas for Voxtech. Usually the other vees kinda just go on their phones when he’s like this, maybe even tell him to shut up. Although that probably doesn’t bother him that much, he’d be genuinely taken aback if you listen. He’d probably stop half way through his excited rambling and notice you just looking at him. Tell him how cute he looks I DARE YOU. Que the angry blushing as he hides his screen. He’s also a huge complainer. Like HUGE he’s actually unbareable. He considers himself the least spoiled out of the Vees, and yeah, probably. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t. “Yeah, and the fucking press was all over my ass today about ‘safety’ or some shit. I played it off fantastically as per usual but god, they’re annoying.” ”Yes, Vox. God forbid they bother prince charming over here.” ”Exactly!” I also think he’d want your attention like 24/7 on the clock. Like if you even stop to talk to anyone else he’d probably cross his arms, tap his foot, and just fucking pout. Maybe he’d even sigh dramatically in your direction and check his watch because if you can’t tell, Vox is very high maintenance. All the Vees are in fact. He’d get jealous very easily too if your attention is directed at anyone else. ”Who are you texting? Is that a ‘good friend’ or something? Hm. You only texted me twice today.” I also think that he would like cuddling after a long day like with his screen resting on your chest and watching tv with you. He’d never ask though, so you’d just have to know when to offer.
He also would like it when you rub his back and treat him gently like that. He probably wouldn’t be used to gentle touch. Probably also falls alseep on you a lot.
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a/n — Take these all with a grain of salt BY THE WAY. Because I titled these ‘silly’ headcanons for a reason.
This doesn’t include how terrible he would be (manipulative, selfish, etc) because I just felt like doing something light hearted without angst!
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empresskylo · 3 months
Note
I’m begging for you to write about virgin!Ghost and virgin!reader,lots of love 🩷x
virgin!simon 'ghost' riley x virgin!afab!reader
a/n: this truly spoke to me, so thank you for this. i wanted to write a pathetic, nervous ghost, but decided to write him how i actually think he'd act if he was a virgin.
warnings: mentions of SA (reference to ghost's past as mentioned in his comics where he is SA'd); smut
cod masterlist
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Who would ever think Simon Riley was a virgin?! 
I mean look at the man!! Rough and assertive. A lieutenant who everyone is afraid of. Easily in his mid-to-late thirties. Crude with his jokes. A damn war criminal. Why would anyone in their right mind assume he was a virgin? 
Except that wasn’t the whole picture. Simon stood witness to how his dad treated women when he was younger. Saw the way he mistreated sex workers. And Simon didn’t want to become like his father, so he ended up distancing himself from girls his age, afraid it might be in his genetics to be shitty. And he watched his “friend” almost assault a woman once—Simon was disturbed, desperate to not emulate that. And not to mention he was big and scary, he was worried he’d frighten women, so he just avoided them for the most part. And when he was sexually assaulted, he thought maybe sex just wasn’t for him. 
And now he was older. Too old to be a virgin, he thought. He wasn’t a self-conscious man, but he didn’t want to disappoint anyone in bed either, so the more he put it off, the more he didn’t want to do it all together. He also found it hard to form relationships in his line of work, and he refused to pay for sex. 
So, by his mid-thirties, he was still a virgin.
Then he met you and it felt so easy being with you. He felt himself wanting to grind against you the first time you kissed—that's when he realized how depraved he had been for so long, he didn’t realize how much he was truly missing.
And one night, after you and him had been a thing for a little while, you finally got the nerves to kiss him and straddle his lap. His hands naturally found your waist and he ran them up and down your sides, gently squeezing your flesh above your clothes. 
Then you pulled back, looking down a bit shyly. 
“What’s a’matta?” he asked you, his hands still firmly gripped on your hips.
“I, uhm,” you stuttered. “I’ve never done this before.” There, you finally said it. You were so worried Simon would become awkward when you told him, what if he didn’t want to be with someone so inexperienced? And you didn’t know if he was going to be uncomfortable with the idea of being your first time—that maybe he didn’t want that responsibility.
His hand slid up and nudged your chin to look at him. Simon was already planning to go as far as you’d let him, and he had decided he wasn’t going to tell you he had never done this before. If you said he was bad in bed, he’d apologize and lie, saying it had just been a long time since he’d been laid. But then you admitted you were in the same boat as him (aside from the fact that you were much younger than him.)
“Me neither,” he admitted.
Your eyes met his and you cracked the smallest of grins. “Don’t make fun of me!” 
He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “M’not.”
You blinked at him. “R-Really?”
He chuckled. “Never really had the opportunity, I’suppose.” That was the short version.
“Oh.”
You squirmed on top of him and he groaned. “That, uhm. Makes me a little less embarrassed.” Your eyes averted his.
Before you could ramble more about it, Simon jerked your head down to kiss him. “Happy to help.”
You smiled against his lips and Simon gripped your hips tightly in his hands, pulling you down against him. You would have thought he’d be a little more reserved, awkward even, having never had done this before. But Simon Riley was a confident man. He was self-assured. Bold. Fearless. And he wasn’t going to let his lack of experience hinder the potential between the two of you.
You gasped, feeling how hard he was in his pants as he yanked you against him. He hummed against your lips, the softness of them making him imagine what they might feel like wrapped around his cock. 
When you whimpered in the back of your throat, Simon was quick to twist you around and lay you flat on your back on the couch. He bullied himself between your legs and refused to let you catch your breath before his lips were back on yours. 
“Please,” he begged pathetically, pawing at the hem of your shirt. 
You gave him room and he stripped you quickly, clearly enthusiastic about having you naked beneath him. You clawed at his shirt and he was more than happy to oblige, tearing it over his chest and unbuckling his pants. 
Your knees had come together as you watched him strip and he smirked. His hands slid along your calf before pulling your legs apart and weaseling his way back to where he was. He kissed you again, both of you anticipating what was to come, but nervous at the same time. 
You bucked your hips up as his hands traced your bare side. He broke the kiss. “Want me t’touch you, love?”
You nodded your head, your face warming. His hand snaked its way between your bodies, tracing the apex of your thighs and rubbing against you. “L-Lower,” you gasped. His fingers shifted and you couldn’t constrain the moan. 
“There?” He asked you, tilting his head as he admired your wanton expression. 
Your breathing hitched when his fingers found your entrance. “Jus’ tell me if you want me t’stop,” he whispered against your lips. 
When you said nothing in response, he pushed one finger inside you. You squeezed around him tightly, your body trying to push him back out. You arched your back off the couch as he shoved his finger all the way inside of you. He began to pump his fingers, you were already soaking for him.
He watched you intently, the obscene noises from his fingers shifting inside you making him harder than he thought possible. It was also making him blush and causing his heart to race. His fingers might have trembled slightly if they weren’t buried inside you, busy at work. Your eyes locked with his, your brows furrowing, feeling him slide another finger in along the first. He was a bit clumsy as he worked you, but it felt good just the same.
“My god,” you gasped. 
Simon groaned when you clenched tightly around his two fingers, imagining how that would feel around his cock instead. 
“Sound so pretty,” he cooed.
Your arms grasped at his biceps, your hips rising to meet each pump of his fingers. “Want you inside me,” you whimpered.
Simon clicked his tongue. “Already inside you, love,” he teased, curing his fingers upwards as if to say, see.
You pouted, your body jolting with electricity from the deep baritone of his voice. His fingers stretched you out plenty, you weren’t sure how he was supposed to fit inside you… but you wanted to find out. You wanted to feel the pressure of his throbbing cock. You wanted to watch him grunt and groan with pleasure above you. You almost wished he would come prematurely, too drunk from fucking you to keep himself together. You were the first person he was going to fuck and a strange swell of satisfaction filled your already racing chest.
“Si-Simon,” you whined.
He smirked before slipping his fingers out of you. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he sucked the wetness from his fingers, his eyes darkening and never breaking contact from yours.
“Want me t’fuck you, sweet girl?” he asked, gripping his cock in his fist and giving it a few pumps.
You watched and swallowed before letting out a pathetic, “Yes.”
He fell back on top of you, his hands on either side of your head, his knees bent on the couch as he settled himself between you. You shifted your hips to give him a better angle as he lined himself up with you. You both watched as he moved himself between your bodies. “Tell me if I’m hurtin’ ya.”
Before you had a chance to respond, Simon was pushing the head of his cock inside of you. He was a bit rough when he entered you—a bit jittery and weak with anticipation—though he tried desperately not to be. You squeezed your eyes shut, your nails digging into his biceps. Simon groaned, edging himself in a little at a time. “You okay, baby?” He asked you.
Your eyes fluttered open and you gave a hesitant nod. “Yes. Keep going.”
His thumb stroked your cheek then brushed over your bottom lip. Your fingers slid up his back, dancing over the corded muscle and scars under your fingertips. Simon edged himself in, then out, and repeated that until he could finally seat himself fully inside you. Your thighs clamped around his waist, wanting to stop the intrusion on instinct. 
“M’ all in,” he told you, his breath airy like he had just run a mile.
“Oh, thank god,” you said exasperated.
Simon chuckled, the deepness of his voice vibrating through his chest and across yours. 
“Can I move?” He asked you.
You swallowed, the stinging between your thighs subduing. You nodded. Simon leaned down to kiss you, his dog tag dragging across your chest, the cool metal warming. Your lips parted, his own moving against yours. Simon devoured the gasp you slid into the kiss when he pulled out halfway. He pushed himself back in and you groaned, a small whimper forming in the back of your throat. He grabbed your thigh, hiking it up slightly so he could get a better angle. 
He continued to thrust inside you, only pulling out halfway each time, before struggling to push himself back in. He kept at a slightly awkward rhythm, grunts slipping past his lips and ghosting across yours. His head slid into the crook of your neck, your nails digging into his back, but Simon could barely feel that. All he was focusing on was how heavenly you found surrounding him. 
“Shit,” he moaned, surprised at how fast he was approaching the end. Simon knew that plenty of men struggled to get off the first time from sheer nerves. Others lasted barely any time at all. But he also knew women seemed to struggle the first time, not even expecting to orgasm until much later down the line. 
Simon wasn’t going to let that happen. He slowed his pace, only doing small little thrusts, his hips rolling against yours, pushing you back into the mattress. His hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit, and rubbing circles. You arched your hips up to get him to touch you at a better spot and you mewled. 
“Close?” he beckoned. 
Surprisingly, you were. You hadn’t thought you’d actually get this close to orgasming your first time. You thought you’d be a ball of self-conscious nerves. But with Simon, you felt comfortable. Relaxed. Excited. Beautiful. And the way his fingers were putting pressure between your legs was making you see stars.
He continued his small pumps, wanting to focus on you more than himself, but he couldn’t help but growl in the back of his throat, your warmth tightening around him. 
His movements grew more rapid and you cried out his name. He cursed, feeling you spasm around him as he led you into your climax, his final ruts sending you over the edge. You finally clenched down so hard, Simon had to pull out, rubbing himself against your clit and coming onto your stomach. 
He groaned, “Fuckin’ hell.”
You were panting, your chest rising and falling in rapid beats. It took you both a moment to collect yourselves. He stared down between your bodies, taking in the sight. Now that you weren’t in the heat of the moment, you suddenly felt self-conscious, all too aware of the way your entire body was laid bare to him. 
Your hand shifted to cover your chest and he clicked his tongue. “You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, love.”
Your chest swooned from his admiration. He quickly leaned over to grab his t-shirt to clean you off. You felt your face warm before he scooped you up into his arms, ready to carry you to the bathroom. 
“Good?” He asked.
A simple question. But one he needed to hear the answer to.
“Perfect.”
Simon grinned, trying to suppress his teeth from showing, but he couldn’t help it. He tucked you closer into his chest as he marched you both to the bathroom. 
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rainylana · 1 year
Text
“Something you wanted.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
Summary: you show up to Eddie and Wayne’s with gifts.
Warnings: language, very soft eddie, eddie doesn’t know how to react to presents, some insecurities on his behalf, new relationship with him and the reader. i hope everyone had a great christmas!!<3 okay and also i’m not going to do my taglist anymore because that’s a pain in the ass so sorry for my laziness!!
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“Merry Christmas!” You beamed, lugging in bags of christmas presents in your arms, huffing a breath as you tried to cram yourself in the door.
“Uh- babe,” Eddie helped usher you through the door, eyeing your skeptically. “Why do you look like Santa Clause?”
You chuckled as you dropped your gifts to the floor, face red from the cold. “I look like mrs. clause, thank you very much. You like my skirt?” You twirled your red and white skirt, matched with a red sweater and a santa hat on your head.
“What are you doing here?” He started patting the snow off your shoulders, closing the door to his home. “Thought you’d weren’t coming over till tomorrow.”
“Well tomorrow won’t be christmas anymore!” You smiled, looking around the trailer. “Is Wayne here?”
Eddie gave you another weird look before turning. “Old man! Y/n’s here!” When he looked back you were on the ground shuffling through your gift backs.
“What are those for?”
You paused, looking up at him to give a funny look. “What do you think they’re for? They’re for you guys, dummy! Christmas presents!”
“All of these?!” His eyes widened. “Y/n- no way, you shouldn’t have.”
“I know that.” You chuckled, taking them out one by one at his feet. “But I wanted too.”
“Why is Santa in our living room?” Wayne announced himself, standing in the kitchen with a raised brow.
“Merry Christmas, Wayne!” You waved, sparking off your pearly teeth. “You guys go sit down so I can pass these out!”
Eddie looked to his guardian with confused eyes, not sure what to do. Wayne muttered under his breath as he made his way to the couch, nodding for Eddie to sit down.
“Okay, so I have these labeled.” You crawled over to their feet with two gifts in hand. “Read what it says.” You sat them in their lap.
Eddie was looking at it like it was a ticking time bomb, while Wayne fished out his reading glasses. “Something you need.” His voice came out in a deep hum.
“Are we supposed to open it?” Eddie said confused.
Wayne rolled his eyes as you laughed. “Yeah, Eddie, open it!”
He nodded before both of them started to tear open the paper, and you noticed how Eddie kept looking at you, then to the other gifts you had behind you.
“Underwear?” Eddie raised a brow, holding up a five back of boxers.
“Oh, thank god,” Wayne exhaled. “You’ve been living in those blue checkered ones for three years now.”
“I have not!” Eddie burned red, straightening. “Quit talking, old man, and open you’re shit.”
“Hey, I’m the one who does your laundry, boy, I outta know.”
You giggled behind your teeth, watching as Eddie felt the fabric at the opening, giving you an awkward smile.
“Batteries?” Wayne said skeptically.
“Uh-huh!” You nodded. “Because the last time I was over you were bitching about your flashlight dying with those old batteries, so know you don’t have to bitch!”
“Thank god.” Eddie praised. “Say, thank you, old man.”
Wayne gave his nephew a glare before giving you a grateful nod. “Thanks, kid.”
“You’re welcome.” You nodded back. “Okay, next!” You reached behind you to grab two other gifts, making their jaw drop.
“Y/n, you didn’t have to do all of this.” Eddie furrowed his brows as you placed another gift in his lap. “We don’t need-”
“Something to read.” Wayne read the label on the red paper before tearing it open.
Eddie hurried to catch up.
“Hey, nice,” Wayne chuckled. “Peanuts comics.” He showed to Eddie. Wayne liked to read the comics in the paper before work, especially peanuts and Garfield. “Thanks, doll.”
“No fucking way.” Eddie cursed, revealing a thick, brown book. “You did not.” His eyes were wide as saucers. “Y/n, this is-”
“Not as expensive as you think.” You finished for him, grabbing his calf. “Just look inside, it’s actually pretty cool!”
It was a collectors edition version of The Fellowship of the Ring, maps on the inside, facts of lore and inspiration from the author. Eddie had seen it once in a bookstore in Indianapolis. That was four months ago.
“Pretty cool?” Eddie’s voice rose an octave. “Babe, this is amazing.” He looked over at Wayne, holding up his book as the man smiled at him. “Look away, old man.” Eddie flung his hand toward Wayne as he leaned down to give you a peck on the lips. “Thank you so much.” Eddie allowed himself to smile. “Really, thanks a lot. This is epic.”
You blushed, your heart warming at his own happiness. “Okay last one.” You placed two other gifts in their lap as wrapping paper laid down at their feet.
“Something you wanted.” Eddie read this time, giving you a smile.
Wayne tore into his quickly, making you laugh as he revealed his present. “Now, just how and the hell did you know I wanted this?” Wayne chuckled, holding out his new leather wallet. It was expensive, but they didn’t need to know that.
“I specifically heard you say damn wallet one day when the zipper was stuck.” You smirked, patting his knee.
“New chains!” Eddie squealed that time, nearly jumping in his seat. “Holy shit, thank you!”
You smiled widely, then over to Wayne who looked very proud. “You’re welcome, Ed’s.”
“These will look perfect on my black jeans, don’t you think?” He asked, taking them out of the package.
“Without a doubt.” You tossed off your santa hat, getting hot. “Look right sexy.”
And then Eddie got quiet. Very quiet. Both you and Wayne noticed it, but he was the first to say something. “You okay, bud?”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything, keeping his head down. You tried to find his eyes but couldn’t, chewing on your lip nervously. He had seemed to like everything.
Wayne mentioned something about going out for a smoke, stepping over the wrapping paper and thanking you once more for the gifts.
“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You grabbed his ankle. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”
Your heart sank when you saw he was crying. “Hey,” you said gently, moving to sit beside him on the couch. “Eddie, what’s wrong? I saved the receipts if you want to exchange them.”
“Exchange them?” Eddie looked at you, eyes tearful and red. “No, y/n, it isn’t that. It’s just…”
This wasn’t normal for him. Wayne and him would give each other something small sure, but someone coming into their home with gifts wasn’t normal. Someone thinking of them for a change wasn’t normal. You should of realized, but it wasn’t your fault. This was your first christmas with him.
“Hey,” You grabbed his red cheeks. “You deserve every little bit of this and more, you hear me?” You wiped his tears with your thumbs. “You’re my boyfriend and I love you. I wanted to do this.”
“I’m sorry,” He shook his head shamefully. “I just..well, I’m not very good at this stuff. I have something for you too, but it’s not near as good as all of this.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, baby.” You shook your head. “That’s not what this is about. I just want you to know how much I care about you, is all. That’s what this time of year is for. Both you and Wayne deserve it.”
Eddie allowed himself to shed one more tear before he buried his face under your chin, pressing his nose against your collar bone. “I love you so much. I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do.” You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his ear. “Both of you deserve this.”
You could feel his tears slide down your skin, and you held him tightly close, knowing Wayne was outside probably close to freezing to death. When you heard his sniffled stop, you peaked down at him with a smile. “Should we go check on your uncle? He’s probably an ice block by now.”
Eddie chuckled and sniffled, using his sleeve to wipe his tears. “Yeah, let’s go check on the old man.”
4K notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 5 months
Text
Playing to Win
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pairing: stepdad!leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: your new stepdad isn't much older than you, yet he has the audacity to ask you to call him daddy?
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dubcon, daddy kink, humiliation kink, spanking, praise/degradation
word count: 4.3k
a/n: i got a little silly hehe. this is technically my first commission. if you’re interested, check out my ko-fi. as always i appreciate the support, smoochies.
this is my first commission written for my beloved @nexysworld. without her, this would never have come about. she's a great writer and such a sweet person. you all should go check out her blog if you haven't already.
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“You want me to call you what?” you ask incredulously as you stare down the man standing across from you.
“You heard me,” Leon says with no sense of teasing in his voice.
You laugh in his face, a cruel, unabashed laugh. You could not believe his audacity to ask you to call him daddy. 
Technically, he was your new stepfather, but it was comical to you to even acknowledge him as such. He was right around your age, only a couple years difference, no way in hell were you going to call him daddy.
You had been open with your mother about your displeasure over Leon’s presence in your life. You called her a cradle robber and a cougar but to no avail. She continued her relationship with him; a young, bright eyed, rookie cop who always thought he knew best.
He wasn’t the problem so much. Sure, he was kind of annoying, but he was also pretty cute. He was funny, and if these were any other circumstances, you could see yourself and him getting along great, even being friends. Generally, he was nice to you, maybe a little over friendly if you were being honest. It always seemed like he knew something you didn’t, but you assumed that was just his nature.
“You’re funny, Leon,” you taunt, “Seriously, good joke.”
“It’s not a joke,” he corrects you and folds his arms over his chest, “Now that I’m taking a more serious role in your life, I expect you to show me some respect.”
“Oh, you do?” you laugh, “Leon-”
“Daddy,” he corrects.
You almost can’t speak, stunned to silence by the nerve of him. Was he doing this to annoy you? Was it supposed to be funny? Because there’s absolutely no way he could be serious about this.
“We are almost the same age. You realize this, yes?” you ask, enunciating the words slowly to get your point across, “I’m not calling you anything but your actual name. And maybe not even that cause you’re pissing me off, and I don’t wanna talk to you.”
“All this attitude, sweetheart, and for what?” he says as approaches you, “I’m not asking you to run a marathon for me. All I want is to be addressed properly.”
You scowl at the pet name. He brings a hand to your face, stroking your cheek with his knuckles before you swat it away.
“What is your problem, Leon?” you say angrily and shove him away, “Is this some fucked up fetish of yours? Like it’s not pathetic enough you’re fucking a divorced woman twice your age, right? You have to feel in control of me too to get it up?”
You laugh at him again when he responds with a glare. Rolling your eyes, you walk closer to him and get in his face.
“Aw, did I hurt daddy’s feelings?” you mock in the sweetest tone you could manage, giving him puppy dog eyes and putting emphasis on the title he was so obsessed with, “I’m so sorry daddy. Please don’t be mad at me.”
You’re about to laugh again before Leon spins you around so you quick the motion nearly gives you whiplash. Your back is flush against his chest, and even though you were teasing, your little performance clearly had some effect as you could feel his dick, now half hard, against your ass. It causes a small flash of heat in your belly that you try to pretend didn’t happen.
“Listen up, I’m not going to tell you again, baby. You do what I’m asking you, or we’re going to find another way to get it through your pretty little head,” he says.
His grip was firm. Despite his usual officer friendly persona, he could obviously be serious when he wanted to be. It didn’t shock you. You knew he was fit and could be intense. You’d caught him working out with his shirt off, sweat dripping down his muscular back while ‘Kim’ by Eminem blasted in his airpods. You tried to deny it, but it had left you feeling a little hot under the collar for the next few days.
You squirm in his hold, but he keeps your wrists pinned to your lower back. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, send me to my room? Ground me?” you say as you try to wriggle away.
“Oh no, we’re past that. You want to be a brat, I’ll handle you like one. I’ll put you over my knee and smack that cute ass until it’s raw, and you understand who’s in charge around here,” he says.
“You’re gonna spank me?” you shriek. You thrash harder in absolute shock. “No way! Are you fucking crazy? My mother will kick your ass.”
“Your mother isn’t here, babe. I’ll do whatever the hell I want,” he says. His fingers only tighten on you, digging into your flesh. An arm loops around your waist and starts pulling you over to the sofa. “Maybe she’ll be grateful that someone’s finally trying to teach you some manners.”
Even though you knew he was in shape, he was much stronger than you thought. He sits down on the sofa and folds you across his lap with no real effort. You’re secure there too, unable to get to your feet or away from him. You still try though, flailing your limbs about and bucking your hips.
“There, there. Let’s calm down, honey,” he coos, now clearly taunting you. He rubs the swell of your ass over the tight dress you were wearing. “Just tell Daddy you’re sorry, baby. I’m not a bad guy. I’m willing to hear you out.”
You don’t even respond. You pound your fists against his leg while kicking your feet.
“Poor baby. There’s no reason to throw a tantrum,” he says in the most condescending voice you’d ever heard. He gives you a light warning tap on the ass. “Just tell me what I want to hear, and Daddy will make it all better, give you all the kisses you need until you’re back to being a good girl.”
He was driving you fucking wild. Your body was taut with anger while your mind ran wild with frustration, not only at him, but at yourself. You could feel your panties getting sticky with arousal as he spoke down to you.
“Shut up, Leon!” you say and continue struggling.
His hand comes down again, cracking a little harder against the supple flesh of your ass. You suck a sharp breath in. It didn’t hurt yet, but it stung. Anymore force behind the swing of his palm and you knew he could fulfill his threats of marking up your ass.
“You wanna try that again, princess?” he says, “I’ll give you one more chance.”
“No! I’m not calling you Daddy you sick fucker! I-”
A loud slap echoes through the room. That was the smack you were scared of. So hard you could feel the burn beneath your skin. There was absolutely no doubt about his strength now. He lands another two, one on each cheek, drawing whimpers from your throat.
“Watch your mouth,” he says, “I’m sick of the whining and the back talk. I’ve given you more than enough chances to fix your behavior. I’m done playing nice with you.”
In a quick motion, he yanks your skirt up to bunch it at the small of your back. You squeal out “Leon!” but it makes no difference. Again, you attempt to wriggle away. All it does though is give him a view of your ass wiggling around in those cute panties you wore. The ones he had seen peeking over the waist of your jeans.
He lays more lashes to your skin in rapid succession. You wriggle slightly and involuntarily whine. Your ‘stepfather’ felt no guilt though. Partially because it was all part of the plan, partially because he could see the light purple fabric between your thighs darkening with arousal. Plus, the pathetic noises spilling from your mouth only made him want to work harder, rip more sweet cries from you. He continues cracking his solid hand against your bottom, sending ripples through the soft flesh. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, your eyes start to water, and your bottom lip juts out into a quivering pout.
“Oh, look at that sweet face,” he coos, taking a break from spanking you to stroke your cheek, “I know it hurts, baby. But it can all stop once you decide to stop being a stubborn little brat.”
He punctuates his statement with another swat. Your body jolts forward at the contact, head falling forward to hang in shame. You hate yourself for playing into it, but you can’t stop the automatic response that exits you in a humiliating whimper.
“I’m not a brat.”
“Oh you’re not? Could’ve fooled me,” he responds. He cracks his hand against your cheeks a few more times before giving you a break and rubbing the sore skin.
“I’m not. You’re just… you’re just mean.”
The words tumble from you in a pitiful cry, physically hurting you to say something so pathetic. To show such weakness when he was being such a prick. You shut your eyes, and a warm tear falls down your face. That only made you feel worse, making you want to cry more. A vicious cycle you couldn’t break out of when all your mind could think of was your stinging flesh and his patronizing voice.
“I’m being mean to you? Aw baby, after all the things you said, you think I’m the mean one?” he mocks.
“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper out without really thinking about it.
“I don’t need you to be sorry, sweetheart. You know what I want,” he says.
What’s supposed to be a groan comes out as a frustrated whine. You shake your head weakly and open your eyes again. His fingers slip beneath your chin to lift your face to look at him.
“Just say it. Say it and it will all be over. We can get on to helping you feel better,” he says.
The pain radiating from your ass, now glowing red, was almost enough to make you give in on the spot. But you could hear it in his voice. He was so fucking smug, having so much fun watching you cry and shift around in discomfort. You couldn’t just let him win.
So you shake your head defiantly, sniffling as your watery eyes connect with his in a stare. You immediately regret your decision because the amused glint that forms his eyes lets you know that he enjoys the resistance more than your submission. The corners of his lips tick upwards into a slight smile. Now it’s his turn to shake his head and mockingly tut at you before swinging his forearm and blasting your sore flesh with the heel of his palm.
You cry out, the noise strangled with despair. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip to restrain the louder sobs that were bubbling in your throat.
“Just give in, sweetheart. There’s no need to act tough for me. Do what I know you want to, and say the word,” he orders, his words coming out low and slow.
You know you should, but god, you don’t want to. It’s like your most basic instincts don’t want you to either. You have to think through it, force your tongue to conjure the word and expel it from your lips.
“I’m sorry… Daddy,” you whimper. A couple more tears leak from your eyes. The humiliation that mounts in your chest is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. But as the heat rises to your cheeks and clouds your mind, making you feel dizzy, you feel a deeper sense of heat spreading out in your lower belly. And it only gets worse when he starts in on you again.
“Oh, that’s my girl. Such a good girl when you want to be. I knew you could do it,” he coos, “Say it again for me, baby. Least you can do after being so cruel.”
At this point, you figure you’d already said it once, so what’s one more time. You say it again if for no other reason than to stop his harsh blows from raining down on your sensitive skin.
“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you cry.
“That’s right. I know you are, honey. I know you don’t mean that stuff. You just wanted some attention, right? Wanted some time with Daddy all to yourself,” he says as his hand comes up and starts stroking your hair.
You weakly shake your head. You weren’t acting up because of that. He was being an asshole. That’s why you were acting up. Or were you even acting up? Your reaction was justified, wasn’t it? All the attention on you mixed with the shame boiling in your head makes it hard to think through this stuff.
“Oh, are you shy? Don’t wanna tell the truth?” he coos with a cruel chuckle. One of his hands rubs your aching ass while the other trails up and down your thigh soothingly. The latter hand slowly creeps to the junction of your legs. “I know that’s what it is, doll. I can feel it.”
As he says that, you feel fingers petting the damp fabric that conceals your cunt. You take a sharp breath to which his chuckle grows into a short laugh. He presses his fingers against the cloth, and you can tell immediately that even his movements are done in a way to mess with you. His digits drag against your panties, not giving you the pressure you need on your clit. You squirm awkwardly in an effort to find a better angle and not feel the soaked garment cling to your folds.
“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases.
You nod, any remaining shreds of dignity you have slowly being peeled away. You just couldn’t resist. The potential pleasure that’s just out of reach. The heat of his thick cock against your hip. His voice, like soft velvet slipping over your mind.
“Well honey, show me you can ask nicely, and I’ll be happy to help you out. Won’t even make you wait, we can get right to what you really want,” he says. His tone sounds slightly more genuine here.
“Pretty please, Daddy,” you force out. Your eyes cast down in shame as if you’re studying the pattern of the living room carpet.
“Pretty please what, babydoll?” he says, the teasing returning for a moment.
“Pretty please… fuck me,” you squeak.
He smirks, his victory written all over his face.
“Woah, listen to the mouth on you,” he tuts, “Normally, I wouldn’t let that kind of language fly, sweetheart, but I think you’ve had enough punishment for one day.”
His hands squeeze your waist and flip you over on his lap. He wipes away your tears with his thumb and presses a kiss to your forehead, that stupid smug expression on his face the entire time.
The next move is guiding your body onto the couch. You whimper as your back meets the cool leather. He pays that no mind and instead lifts your hips and tugs your skirt and panties off in one motion. You notice in your peripheral that he takes a souvenir, shoving the light purple underwear in his pocket.
After giving your ass a firm squeeze, his hands drift up and pull your shirt off. His eyes fixate on your tits, his soft hands coming to cup them and flick his fingers over your nipples which were beginning to perk up.
“No bra? I guess I should’ve expected that from you,” he chuckles as he continues fondling your soft breasts. The touch relieves some of the building pressure, the weight in your chest just begging to be squeezed and massaged. He watches the pliable flesh move beneath his fingers before giving your nipples a quick pinch and moving to undress himself.
He doesn’t waste any time, his clothing pooled on the floor in mere moments. He gets on top of you. Large hands hook behind your knees, angling your hips upward. Your legs come to rest on his shoulders as he grabs his cock and swipes the tip through the slick that had collected between your thighs.
“So fucking wet, I didn’t even need to warm you up,” he grunts as he pushes the tip in.
You bite your lip, unable to stop the whine it brings out of you. He exhales with amusement, and his free hand goes to your face to rub your cheek. It was only the tip so far, but you couldn’t even deny how good it felt. And while he moves with a purpose, he draws out this first thrust as long as possible. He inches it in, going as slow as he can. The pleasure he gets just from watching you squirm with desperation is clear in the way he looks down at you.
“There we go. Just what you need. Daddy filling you up. Gonna make you a good girl from now on,” he coos and drags his thumb over your bottom lip. 
Without even thinking, you open your mouth and flatten your tongue against the digit before wrapping your lips around it. You suck on it gently, softly moaning as your saliva coats his thumb.
At this point, it’s physically impossible for him to look more pleased with himself. Honestly, it seemed like he took more enjoyment from watching you slip farther into his grasp than he did from the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him.
Once he’s all the way in, completely buried in your warm, wet embrace, the hand that had been guiding his cock slides up. He gently thumbs your clit, grinning as your sweet mewls become the slightest bit louder.
He begins dragging himself in and out, savoring the feeling of your walls gripping him, sucking him in. It seems you only clamp down harder as he plays with your pretty little bundle of nerves. He keeps toying with it as his hips work back and forth.
Your eyes flutter, becoming half-lidded with the smooth stream of pleasure flowing through you. You whimper and whine while still sucking on his thumb. He started to repeatedly tease pulling it out before pushing it all the way in, nearly gagging you.
“So precious, aren’t you?” he whispers, leaning forward.
Your thighs are now pressed to your chest. His cock so deep it reaches places you didn’t even know about. He picks up the pace a bit, balls smacking against you with each move. To your dismay, he removes his thumb from your mouth, dragging it down and smearing spit down your chin. Your disappointment is only momentary as he’s quick to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 
His soft lips move against your wet ones while he continues pumping deep. Your head swims with the pleasure he provides. Everything becomes a soft warm haze as he toys with your clit and stretches you out. The gentle kisses combine with the tender feeling of his warm skin sliding against yours.
“Gonna have to do this every time you get bratty, baby. Keep you dumb on my cock, exactly where you should be, making sure you don’t get outta line,” he grunts, eyes closing as a wave of pleasure hits him, “This all you needed, just some time with Daddy.”
You nod lazily, all hopes of keeping a resistant exterior up gone out the window. “More kisses, Daddy,” you mumble as you connect your lips in a messy kiss.
He chuckles at the lack of resistance left in you. He returns your nod and indulges you. His tongue slips into your mouth, meeting your own as you make out.
It’s all so good. You can’t get enough. Everything is him right now. It’s all for him. You know you’re getting close and so does he. He can feel the way your pussy rhythmically constricts around him. It’s working him closer too, but he can’t let it end yet. Not before he gets to the final step.
His movements become strategic. You’re teetering on the edge, getting enough pleasure to keep you whining and clutching at him, but not enough for that final push to heaven. Just one more stroke in the right wave, and you know you could get there.
While your head continues to fog up from his efforts, he pulls away from kissing you. He nestles his head in between yours and the couch cushion.
“You know, honey, now that we’re seeing eye to eye, I think I should let you in on something,” he whispers, hot breath fanning across your ear.
“Mmm, what?” you ask. You were only half paying attention, too caught up in the heat of the moment.
“I’ve had my eye on you for a while, sweet thing,” he rasps.
“Really?” you ask, unsure why he was bringing this up but choosing to go along with it in your dreamy state. He had been dating your mom for a while, so maybe he had this little infatuation for longer than you thought.
“Mhm, earlier than I think you know,” he says with a nip to your earlobe.
“That’s nice,” you murmur and nuzzle your face against his hair, breathing in his scent.
“Aren’t you curious when? When was the first time I saw your pretty face? The first time I wanted to slide into this tight pussy?” he murmurs.
“When?” you ask. You tried to feign interest, but fuck, you really just wanted to cum.
“I remember it, clear as day. It was at a party, you remember that guy from high school who had the 3D tv in his basement. It was at his house. You were down there, looking so fucking cute, talking to some douchebag. And I heard you talking to him. About Fortnite,” he says.
You just nod and moan. You honestly didn’t even remember that he went to your high school, but you didn’t really care at the moment. It still felt so good, him drilling in and out of you. You just couldn’t help but wonder why he thought now was the time to bring this up.
“You told that guy your gamer tag. But I realized I also remembered that name. I had played a match with you before. You beat me, stole my victory royale,” he says with a soft laugh.
“Umm… ok,” you reply, totally lost and not just because your mind was all cloudy from being railed into the couch.
“Tell me, honey: do you remember the name rookiepillz?” he asks.
“No?” you say. Was this really the time for this conversation? That was all you could think. But before you could voice your complaint his hand starts rubbing your clit again with even more pressure than before. All words in your throat tangle up into a string of whimpers.
“You should. I sent you a message after that game. Told you ‘I’m gonna fuck you and your mom sweaty,’” he says with a particularly hard thrust, “Well, look at us now.”
You listen, absolutely lost, until the dots start connecting. You turn your head to look at him, not believing this was real. You did remember that message. It made you and your friends giggle for the next hour, created an inside joke for the next few years.
“No way,” you say. You try to keep your voice even, but despite his insane words, his cock was still hitting just right, “Rookie- fuck! Rookiepillz?”
He puts in a couple of those strokes that hit just right, brushed all your sweet spots, filled you up the perfect amount. All the while his thumb rubs your clit in tiny, quick circles. You couldn’t hold on. A sharp cry leaves you as you gush around his cock. You grip the couch for support as your body rolls with the rush.
“Yes way, sweetheart. Rookiepillz,” he grunts.
When most of the high has finished and you’re starting to come down, you open your eyes and look up at him with disbelief. He’s grinning, so satisfied that he’s gotten the last laugh.
“Wha- you’re… you’re fucking insane… literally why would you remember that? And why would you take it so seriously? It’s Fortnite!” you moan, still feeling the aftershocks of your release.
“I play the long game, baby, and I play to win,” he moans as a strained expression washes over his face. He snaps his hips a few more times before slamming in all the way with one final thrust. “This is my ultimate victory royale.”
With that, he empties himself inside you, hot cum flooding your cunt. You whimper yet again. It still felt good even if you just found out his motivation behind all of this was borderline psychotic.
He pumps in and out a few more times before pulling out. His chest puffs with deep breaths on top of yours. Both of you lay together in silence for a few moments. What had just happened? You could barely even comprehend it. Instead of driving yourself as crazy as he is by dwelling on it, you shove him off of you. You get up and start putting on your clothes again.
“You’re fucking crazy,” you say.
He laughs and sits up on the couch. “Don’t act like you didn’t have fun, baby,” he says while stretching, “You were such a good girl for your daddy.”
Your eyes widen and cheeks burn with embarrassment at his teasing. God, why had you ever said that? Now that you weren’t all worked up, you just wanted to go back in time and kick your own ass for even thinking of giving in.
“Shut up,” you grumble.
He stands up, still laughing and clearly on top of the world with his “victory.” You smooth out your outfit as he starts putting his own clothing back on. He holds up his belt and cracks it teasingly.
“Watch your mouth, there’s still time before your mother gets home. That sweet ass might not have enough marks,” he taunts.
You shoot him a glare before storming out of the room.
“Oh come on, babe. If you’re not into that, maybe we could play some Fortnite?” he calls.
1K notes · View notes
n3ptoonz · 4 months
Note
mind writing for the Earthrealm men getting caught masturbating by the reader??👀
mk1 hcs: how the earthrealm guys react to getting caught 🥩 👊🏾 by reader
warnings: suggestive; a lil steamy, i play too much (was sick and ovulating while writing this help me god), GERAS SPOTTED???
reverse roles here
Johnny Cage
Left the door open on purpose. WIDE OPEN. There he lied on his silk linens, blasting Marvin Gaye and going to town without taking his eyes off the door. Honestly wouldn't be surprised if he added a sexy ninja mime (i will never stop referencing past games) to act out him getting caught
When you "catch" him all you can do is facepalm, but it's outta love. Expect to have him let loose 50 cheesy pick up lines, dick in hand and all. Like he would still jerk it like he wasn't stuttering over his words once you took over
If you join the cheesy line fun, he may or may not cum on the spot. He loves when you're playful back. And tease him a lot. But like. Way more than he teases you. He can and will fall in love all over again (he will also bust quickly to this too. MULTIPLE times)
Raiden
This cutie pie. Snookums bbg. Blushing like a fool because you managed to overhear him utter your name multiple times in a hushed voice dripping with lust
I fully see him falling out of his bed and scrambling to pull his covers down with him just to cover his lower half. He gets even more nervous when he sees you not even attempting to leave, but instead having an inviting look on your face
Cue the comically loud gulp sound effect. His pretty brown eyes never left your figure, sitting on the hardwood floor with a painful erection between his thighs under a rather comfortable blanket. You'd have to ask if he wants help from your own lips, otherwise no sound would be in the room other than steady breathing and his heart thumping loud as hell (he says yes at the speed of light)
Smoke
Deer in headlights. One minute ago he was furiously zerkin it like there was no tomorrow, slutty sounds escaping his lips with no shame. Now he's like...oh...! You heard that..? Ahahah..
Would apologize so many times he ends up doing it in Czech. Please tell him it's okay😭In fact you'd only shut him up by telling him it was hot
Activates self indulgence beam I think...he'd be into it if you told him to finish what he started. Like sitting in a chair and watching him and he's not allowed to close his eyes- IM GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF (fic idea huehue)(if you write it before me, tag me.) But also albeit he stumbles over his words, he'd find some sort of way to ask for your help
Geras
WHAT!!! GERAS I KNOW WTF WHAT yeah he may be an immortal being but the man has his own needs. And is it even a question like...you're wondering how THAT fits in his hand like jesus christ you're going to kill someone sir (i got next)
It's nothing extravagant. He wasn't summoned by Liu Kang for a while, so he figured why not? He doesn't get much time to himself so let's crank one real quick 👀
Think of any scene from mk11 where he got "hurt" and was grunting, that's the sounds he was making and you could hear it through his door. But you thought he was hurt, so you came through the door just to be greeted by a SNAKE in his grip
Surprisingly calm...almost too calm...did he predict this? Who knows, all we know is you interrupted him and would definitely like your help. Does not shy away from this request too but that's how we like it 😈
Liu Kang
A similar incident with Geras. You overheard him while you wandered through his mansion trying to find and surprise him. So when you finally found his bedroom door and barged in, thinking he needed help, there he was dick in hand and completely unexpecting
He would try to remain calm but it would be clear as day that he was nervous. He'd quickly cover up with a pillow and give a small smile, asking if you needed anything like he wasn't shirtless and heart pumping at mach speeds
In his mind was like a static sound as he tried to focus on not getting hard again looking at you, feeling a little guilty as he couldn't help his instincts. I guess the God contract never said escaping from mortal desires! You offer to join the fun and he's like HUH...well, if you insist! (again he looks calm but is very, very excited, i promise)
Kung Lao
He had been schmeat beating after his long days of training so this isn't a new occurrence for him. But obviously, you've never walked in on him before. He was always able to get it done before he saw or met with you
Normally you rendezvous to Madam Bo's but you're like hm, why not bring him something to eat since you know he had a long day! Once you entered it didn't take you long to hear him calling your name from his room, so naturally you thought he knew you were here. But...it started to become like a chant. His voice breathy and deep (save me shaolin monk save me-) So when you check it out you find him with his head thrown back, hair messy and coated in sweat
The favoritism is leaking through the screen LMFAOOO He heard the door creak and yelped, asking why you were there so early out of breath you held the to-go bag in your hands with pure shock, immediately getting the idea to tease the shit out of him. He does it to you all the time, why not return the favor?! And he's like well?? Are you gonna help??? UH YA I WAS GETTING TO THAT😹😹
Scorpion
Kuai Liang rarely ever has the time to even talk to you, let alone talk to himself! So one of the few times he didn't think you were showing up to the temple but he had time to himself that he didn't think would last very long, he just needed to relieve his own stress real quick
Damn, he forgot he invited you to the temple since it was a slow day. You were appointed to his room by one of the recruits and sang his name, opening the door to the sound of squelching and panting
Your little song came to a stop at the same time of his gasp; eyes locked on yours. He wanted to smile, and drop everything to greet you like the situation wasn't what it was, but before he could even begin to hide himself you calmly close the door and watch his demeanor quickly switch to smug...it's gonna be a long day for the both of you😮‍💨
Sub-Zero
I'm using the same scenario from my first bi-han fic bc i said so, bite me!
He was avoiding you because he couldn't control himself around you any longer. The more he thought about you and how you pissed him off to great lengths before has him wanting to do terrible...terrible things (shoutout loki)(i've never seen loki) but he must suffice with pleasuring himself to the thought of you, the way your voice rang in his head, and how hot you looked patching up his injuries
When you caught him oh he was so sexually frustrated he couldn't think straight, panically pulling you into his room dick swinging and all. The scowl on his face didn't match the pink blush that was starting to form at how you looked at him. Why you were at his door is the least of his concerns, if you don't help him take care of this right now he might lose his mind 🥹
Kenshi Takahashi
He wasn't supposed to be last but I accidentally clicked on a tumblr notification and lost my notes on him so. LETS TRY THIS SHIT AGAIN.
When you caught him he was so so embarrassed. Don't let the calm and hot and sexy demeanor fool you, when it came to you it's like he's a clone; unrecognizable. He was stuttering and trying to justify whatever you just saw but then also asks why you showed up unannounced
You explain he said to come around this time a few days ago to spend some time together, and now he was mentally kicking himself bc how could he forget something so simple?! But hey, the fact that you weren't even budging, and even approaching him with a smile on your face told him all he needed to know. And who is he to say no to some help from a fine individual like you???
a/n: cranked this request out for y'all (fic might be posted today) this is a gift from me to you guys 😄 happy christmas and merry holidays to any and all cultures that do or don't celebrate during this time fr ❤️
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killishin · 1 month
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JEALOUS
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pairing : damian x reader
warning : some jealousy
category : fluff
author's note : okay my exams are over ( for now ) and im writing after like a year so if there's any mistakes , forgive me. Also first time writing damian , or any dc chara so sorry if there's anything wrong. enjoy :)
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parties , gathering were never your place and neither his. the league had decided to have a gathering of all heroes and as much as you would rather be in your room sleeping , there's free food here.
that's the reason you tell everyone.
If you were being honest , you still weren't gonna come but a certain recent argument with Damian , your oh so understanding boyfriend , had you in a mood of mischief. You wanted to do something to annoy him , as childish as it sounds for someone who has the status of hero , you just had to.
Initially both of you had decided not to go but then just today morning you told him you were going. you laugh when you remember the disbelief that was on his face.
" Fine. Go. " was all he said back then and you thought that would be it. He would be sulking away in his own solitude.
But he came , with that same brooding face which for a moment melted away when he met your eyes , when he saw you looking absolutely gorgeous , but it was quickly replaced by a scowl when he saw you smirking.
You knew how much he hated crowds so having him go through one was utmost peak revenge.
( he has a huge soft spot for you but he wasn't gonna concede so easily. )
He saw you the whole night talking away , laughing with your friends and the strangers that approached you. He saw how everyone hung onto every word you said and get lost in the spark in your eyes , just like he did.
" Trouble in paradise?" Jon said and smirked when Damian ignored him. Jon saw how he was glaring daggers on the people talking to you.
It was simply comical to him how big of a hold you have on Damian. So he decided to just tease. just a little.
" Oh boy did you see the way the guy laughed?? He's totally trying on her. Is it just me or is he inching towards her?? Man you gotta do something or he'll take awa-"
And that was enough to set off Damian as put down his glass on the bar and went striding off to where you were , leaving Jon smirking wide.
You were enjoying your conversation with the new people you met , but you can't lie it was getting tiring now. Your social battery was running out and maybe right now all you need is a quiet corner and him. Just the bliss of his presence.
And thankfully, you were rescued.
Damian came right in the middle of the conversation, put his hand on your lower back gently before looking at everyone else with his usual glare, although you swear you could see the anger in his eyes.
" I apologise but we need to be somewhere. " He said and started directing you away from the crowd but he stopped in between and glanced back at the guy who was hitting on you.
" Back off , 's all I'll say." His voice held a warning that only an idiot would miss and your eyes slightly widened at his outburst.
But when your eyes met with Jon who was reeling from the scenario , you joined the dots.
( OH JACKPOT )
Damian directed you in a quiet corner outside , away from prying eyes and voices. He let go of you and looked off in a distance , his brows furrowed and his upset eyes looking anywhere else but you.
maybe this was too much.
You realised in your childishness you may have actually upset your man.
You gently pulled him by his arm and made him look at you. It was like a little angry puppy looking at you and you could just die from the cuteness aggression.
" Are you mad at me?" you asked with a small smile. He scoffed and looked away again.
" No why would i be?"
" Cause you were jealous."
" I was not. "
" I never took you for the jealous type you know."
" I said i was not jealous."
You laughed and gently held his face in your hands. aww now he really looks like a puppy.
" I'm sorry if i upset you. It wasn't my intention to make you jealous."
" But it was your intention to come to the party."
" That. "
You laughed guiltily and wrapped your arms around his neck.
" Okay yeah obviously that was my intention. But you weren't talking to me at all during missions , and it just made me a bit.... annoyed. So i had to do something to make you talk." you justified, knowing you could have just maturely had a conversation with him about the argument in private.
" ....And annoy you."
you looked down in guilt but then you heard him laughing heartily. You looked up in surprise. The sight not only rare , but it melts you away. It was the most cutest thing ever , the way his face lit up , the way his lips stay in a beautiful smile.
He took a hold of your chin and pulled you close.
" If you wanted attention, "
He kissed your lips slow , his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands went from your chin to your hips , pulling you even more close. You could sense the hint of sass coming as he teased you by gently nibbling on your lower lip. He pulled away , looking at your lips , then your eyes and that shit eating grin on his face.
" You could have just asked. "
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reblogs and likes are appreciated :)
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exhaslo · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 16- Miguel x Villian!Reader (Bondage)
*Requested by reader ;) *
        The age of heroes was long gone, therefore you thought it was safe to play the part of a villain. Not really a villain, per se, you were a thief. Upon reading about how glorious the past thieves and villains were, you wanted to give your life a new thrill. Taking upon the name of, 'Black Cat', you dedicated your nights to stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, or sometimes to your pockets. Which ever gave you more of a high.
"Ohhhhhh, look at those earrings she is wearing! I'm sure she won't notice if I take them~"
"I'm sure she will,"
"No she-Ah!"
        You yelped away from the window, wondering who was talking to you. To your surprise, it was a tall muscular man in a suit. This must have been the big scary Spiderman that everyone was talking about. Your eyes wandered from his head to his toe. He was much finer than the stories you heard. Ain't no way a man like that was single. You swore a lightbulb appeared above your head. There was something new to steal now.
"Don't believe we've officially met, I'm Black Cat, but you can call me Kitty." You said with a wink.
"Gatita? (kitty?)" He repeated. 
        You nearly gasped. He was Spanish too, one of your many weaknesses in a man! Holding your chest, you nearly stumbled. What would happen if you just surrounded yourself to him? Spiderman was a hero, perhaps you can taint him!
"Wow, that just rolls right off the tongue-ahem, anyway, there's no way such a big hero like yourself is here to stop lil ol' me from stealing some earrings, right?"
"No. Just patrolling and saw a shady figure looking to break in."
"I am not shady!" You said with a huff and approached him, "But, I'll be a good kitty tonight and go home. Maybe if we meet again, I can be good to you~" You purred, trailing your finger against his chest.
        You quickly left with a wide grin against your lips. Oh he was so toned! You casually glanced back, hoping that your flirting was good enough. It had been a while since you did something so bold. Well, the mask sure helped.
----------
        Miguel just stood there, wondering what had just happened. Normally he wouldn't let such petty thieves get away without teaching them a lesson, but then again, you didn't steal anything yet. That, and Miguel had not been flirted with in such a long time that he was in shock. Your casual touch against his skin made him tense. You called yourself a good kitty for him. That was something he was going to think about all night.
----------
        As luck would have it, you kept bumping into Spiderman. It was always whenever you were going to steal something petty or for yourself. Never when it was for others. It made you wonder if he was watching what you were stealing. If so, where would he draw the line? It felt like your flirting was working because Spiderman had started to flirt back! Oh, you nearly dropped on your knees the first time he said something so proactive! You nearly folded right then and there for him!
"Not yet, (y/n)! You need to think!"
"(Y/n)? What a pretty name," Spiderman said with a hum. You let out a whine as your cat claws stroked down the wall you were about to climb,
"You're so mean to me!" You teased, facing the tall man, "Are you going to look me up when you get home, huh Spidey?"
"Now why would I want to look up criminals?" He drew closer to you, "Unless you want me too?"
"Tsk, tsk, this kitty won't like that. This game has to be fair."
"I don't play games with thieves." Spiderman hummed lowly, his hand pressed against the wall as he hovered over you, "Now what were you trying to steal this time?" He asked.
        You gave him your best pout, trying to act innocent. Why was this man so attractive!? If only you can match a face with that sexy voice of his. You bit you lower lip as you took notice of the position you were in. This was straight out of a comic book! Argh, if only you weren't restricted by his mask. You would totally kiss him!
"Why don't I let you guess?" You placed a hand against his chest, "If you guess correctly, I'll reward you~"
"I don't play games with-"
"Boo! Perhaps next time you can play with this kitty. I'm flexible~" You whispered in his ear before dashing off.
-------------
        Miguel inhaled deeply as he watched you scurry off. He kept saying that he did not play games with criminals, yet here he was, letting you run off. Like a game of cat and mouse, only he was a Spider. Miguel groaned lowly as your last words repeated in his mind. Next time he might want that reward you were tempting him with. Next time, he might stop playing games and catch you...Just to see how flexible you really were. It all depends on how you were going to be and what you were going to steal.
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        This was it! This was really going to test your flirting skills with Spiderman. You might be going too far, but hell, this was for your own amusement. You wanted to steal Spiderman for yourself. Such a fine man deserved to be yours. You could not go to bed without thinking of him being intimate with you. You wanted him! Chuckling to yourself, you stared at the adult store in front of your, waiting for Spiderman to appear.
"What are you doing, gatita?" Spiderman said with a hesitant sigh. You smirked towards him,
"What? Can't even steal myself some relief? I'm tired of being a good kitty~"
"Rel-" Miguel stopped himself, feeling that thin line slowly breaking, "You don't need that."
"Awe~ Why not?" You slowly approached Spiderman, "Remember that game last time? Guess what I'm going to steal and I'll reward you? Well, it will be an extra sweet reward~"
"Fuck," Oh, you weren't expecting that, "I'm done playing games."
        Before you can whine, you yelped as Spiderman fired his webbing towards you. You gasped as both of your hands were stuck to the building. Spiderman drew closer to you, webbing your hands more firmly so your claws couldn't break you free.
"You've been a bad, gatita. I'm going to have to punish you after all," His voice was low and raspy. Did you actually succeed?
"Oh? And how are you-ah~"
        You gasped once more as Spiderman started to rub his fingers against your cunt. The fabric causing a burning friction. You tried to close your legs, but Spiderman raised them and webbed them to the wall as well. This was an embarrassing position! You were completely caught in his web.
"Miguel," He whispered, trailing his fingers against the rip of your pants, "(Y/N), if you want relief so badly, then I'll give it to you."
        Shit, this was actually happening. You felt yourself grow wetter just by him telling you his name. At least now you had something to yell out. Muffling a moan, you whined as Miguel lowered your pants. The bottom half of his mask disappeared as he brought his tongue to your wet pussy. Your eyes widen as your saw fangs. So those rumors were true. Before you could ask him about them, you let out a loud moan as he licked your folds.
"M-Miguel!" You yelped in shock. Miguel just looked up at you thru his mask, licking your wet folds in the process,
"You can't lick yourself here, gatita, so I will." His voice vibrated throughout your body, causing you to shiver in delight.
        You tried to arch your back as he wiggled his tongue all over your pussy. A burning sensation traveling all over your body to your cunt. His hands stroking your legs, making you more sensitive. Miguel raised his head slightly, sucking against your clit. You cried out, feeling your growing pleasure. You felt his smirk as he slid his hand over your cunt, sliding two of his large digits inside of you. That was your final straw as you cam against his hand.
        You whined once more as Miguel kept fucking his fingers into your throbbing pussy, not giving you a chance to rest. His tongue still against your clit, eagerly sucking and licking. This was actually happening. Spiderman was fucking you. Trembling as Miguel curled his finger's inside you, you started to grind your hips against his hand. This was much better than whatever toy you were going to steal. Another gasp came out of you as Miguel started to pump his fingers faster. You wanted these webs off.
"C-Come on, Spidey, I-I'll be a good, ah, kitty, lemme g-go~" You begged, feeling another orgasm forming. Miguel looked at you, freeing your abused clit,
"Don't like it when you're trapped in my web?" He asked, bringing his fangs against your neck, "Gotta tie up criminals. Including bad gatitas." He whispered, sucking against your neck.
        Your whines got tuned out by your moans since Miguel pumped his fingers into your g-spot. Your vision blurred for a second as you cam once more. Miguel removed his fingers, giving them a lick as he freed his large cock. Pre-cum already dripping from his tip. You were brought back to your senses once you laid eyes on it. How was that going to fit? There was no way you could move either.
"Awe, is my gatita scared?" Miguel teased, pressing the tip of his cock against your soaked pussy, "Why don't I give you a reward for not stealing anything?"
"Mhm-Miguel...It's...too hn...b-big," You stuttered, trembling as he slowly slid his cock inside your gummy walls, "D-Does y-your training...including...d-dick growth?" 
"Hah," Miguel almost let out a rare laugh. 
        You wanted to say you were joking, but you weren't. Miguel was so big and thick. You were shaking as you felt your pussy stretch like never before. It hurt at first, but this position was making you adjust quickly. You were spread out like a damn butterfly. Thank god there were no cameras or nearby people. You flung your head back, moaning as you felt his tip hit your cervix. Who knew Spiderman had such a big dick. Who knew it would even fit inside you!
"Fuck, look at that. What a good gatita." Miguel groaned lowly.
        You whined softly as you felt your walls squeeze him. Miguel leaned in to kiss you before beginning his rough thrusts. Your eyes widen as you moaned into the kiss, surprised by his strength. You felt him fuck the breathe right out of your throat. With each thrust, Miguel bruised your cervix. He held your hips, climbing onto the wall to fuck you deeper. If only you could hold onto him. You felt so vulnerable in this position, unable to move. It was like you were just his fuck toy.
        You swore you saw stars as Miguel made you cum again. He grunted as his cock started to get a white ring from your juices. He quicken his pace, causing you to moan from overstimulation. How many more orgasms' was this man going to draw out of you. You started to feel dizzy, but you didn't want him to stop. Hearing another grunt, Miguel held your waist tighter, almost piercing it with his talons. He slammed his dick into you harshly, pouring his cum into your womb.
"That's right, good gatita's like their milk." Miguel panted softly. You just trembled,
"A-Ah~" You moaned lowly, feeling his hot load fill you.
        Miguel waited a moment before pulling out. He watched as a mixture of his cum and your juices rolled down your legs. He freed you from his webbing and fixed your suit. Glancing up at the building before you, he smirked under his mask,
"I'll let you steal just one thing from that store, but I'll have to punish you again." He whispered in your ear, holding your waist close to his. Your body leaned against his, unable to think straight,
"Do you like seeing this kitty all tied up?"
"I'd be lying if I said no."
"Then I'll reward my precious hero and grab more bondage...That doesn't involve sticky webs." You whined, still removing his webs from your suit. Miguel smirked, biting against your neck as he rubbed your pussy again,
"But you enjoy these sticky webs." He poked against your hole, causing you to melt under his touch,
"L-Lemme steal...mhm...something first."
"Yes, my good little gatita."
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mikareo · 1 month
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆ midnight love ⠀ ꒰ . . geto suguru x gn reader ꒱ . . . word count; 0.7k
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⊹ ⠀⠀ heartbreak is a cycle. over, and over, and over again.
contains; geto suguru x gn reader, angst, geto dumped you and you can't get over it, mentions abandonment and attachment issues, lots of reader insecurities, womp womp author's note; hey ! XD
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"you really can't be calling me at this hour anymore." suguru's voice is faint. he's likely just woken up from a deep slumber, probably dreaming of something far more interesting and attractive than you are, but that isn't a dream that you'd like to picture. he did this to you.
sometimes, he needs to see what your nightmares look like.
"i'm sorry, it's just that i've been thinking about everything again." clearing your throat, you can't help but notice that your voice can't stop shaking. get a grip of yourself. you're embarrassing. "i feel like we made a mistake. it's not crazy to try things again; we know what went wrong so let's just fix it this time. right? we can be even better this time around."
you know the hopefulness slipping from your tongue is something that suguru has grown to hate. he hates the guilt that it makes him feel. he hates the reminders of a time where he was so madly in love with you that he couldn't imagine sleeping through one of your sporadic phone calls in the middle of the night. he hates how it reminds him how hard you sobbed when he said those three little words. not 'i love you'...but 'let's break up'.
he hates that it makes him regret things.
so instead, he forces you to bottle it all up.
"i'm not interested anymore, i've told you that." the sound of your poorly mended heart shattering once more is far too familiar. "seriously, we crashed and burned so let's just leave it at that."
this is the third time he's said these words. the first being an hour after he dumped you over the phone, when you called him back amidst uncontrollable sobs and he didn't seem to care all that much. the second being a month after what would've been your first anniversary together, to which he was careless with your heart as you poured it out to him on his doorstep. now, the third, where it's been a whole three months since your untimely break up and your sleep has been lost to you for yet another night.
...and he still doesn't care.
he doesn't care about you.
he doesn't care at all.
why doesn't he care?
"suguru, please." it's pathetic to beg, but what else can you do? "i love you. i want to be with you and i'm willing to do anything to make it work. c'mon, work with me, here." just say yes. just say yes and maybe you'll smile again.
he takes a deep breath. you can count down the seconds until he exhales.
three.
you envision a scenario where he bolts from his bed, frantically grabs his jacket, and drives straight to your house. his hand hovers over the front door, ready to knock, when you fling it open and then fling yourself into his arms. suguru laughs at your eagerness, gently gripping your face beneath your jaw and kissing you tenderly. god, it's been so long since you felt his kisses. you could cry from the overwhelming happiness in your heart. the overwhelming joy that he never fails to make you feel when he's truly and completely in love with you, too.
two.
you recall one of your favorite dreams, one just a few nights ago, where suguru had never broken up with you in the first place. in fact, he thinks the mere thought is comically funny. he'd never ends things. you're the best thing that's ever happened to him and he never fails to tell you that at every hour of the day. he's the perfect boyfriend. he's the ideal husband. he's the man that you've been wishing for for your entire life...but he really is just that. he's a dream.
one.
"i don't love you anymore."
oh...
oh.
you wish this were a scenario. you wish you were sleeping. you wish he could've said anything other than those awful words, but this is reality. dreams don't reflect reality. dreams aren't real. his love for you isn't real. he doesn't love you. he doesn't want you. he doesn't need you. give up. give up. stop making a fool of yourself.
"but i love you."
pathetic.
you're pathetic.
the sigh he exhales is pitiful.
he's so obviously aware of how clingy you've become in your lonesome life that he's not even surprised by your behavior. he's not surprised by your confession. it's almost as if he expected it. he knows your flaws. he knows your stance on abandonment...on attachment...on absence. he knows you can't possibly function in a world without him...
...and he hangs up.
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⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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