#and starts to express his emotions and whatnot

[reckless-rider]

Hiii~

I was really curious and wanted to what your favourite thematic concepts in Hell's Paradise is, like a running theme you really really enjoyed?

Mine personally is the inversion of the emotionless badass trope with Gabimaru and how despite being born into violence, he sees it as something thats often unnecessary and how those feelings that have been taught out of him have aren't actually a weak point but make him stronger on the island.

Hello!!

Honestly that's my favorite too, it's quite refreshing ngl Seeing him absolutely adore his wife and just wants to get back to her, believing her in the fact that he is not hollow is really nice to see. Yui better be fucking real or I swear Him starting to embrace that he is not hollow and treating Mei with the kindness she deserves is great, trusting Sagiri, etc etc

Also the concept of Tao is pretty interesting to me. Like to have a balance between weak and strong and that's what Gabi has understood.

[chadsuke]

Comics Read in 2023:

Mr. Bride Vol. 1 by Natsumi Shiba (2020)

Mr. Bride Vol. 2 by Natsumi Shiba (2020)

Mr. Bride Vol. 3 by Natsumi Shiba (2021)

Mr. Bride Vol. 4 by Natsumi Shiba (2021)

Shadows House Vol. 1 by Somato (2019)

Shadows House Vol. 2 by Somato (2019)

Otherworldly Izakaya Nobu Vol. 4 by Natsuya Semikawa & Virginia Nitouhei (2017)

Otherworldly Izakaya Nobu Vol. 5 by Natsuya Semikawa & Virginia Nitouhei (2017)

Otherworldly Izakaya Nobu Vol. 6 by Natsuya Semikawa & Virginia Nitouhei (2018)

[ID: Covers of the aforementioned books. End ID.]

[itsravenbitch]

how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death

a little backstory

— for the sake of privacy, we’re gonna say my boyfriend’s mother’s name is kay

kay’s “death” was caused by a car accident (wasn’t her fault) and she later passed in the hospital. this all happened in new york, and my boyfriend and i live in georgia. but about a 2 days after we found out, we flew out there.

my bf and his mom were super close so that loss was a lot on him. he started burying himself in the gym, sleep, work etc & eventually he became really depressed. he would not get up out of bed and i could not take that. that was when i decided to revise her death, and this was like a week after she passed.

the moment i learned she was dead, i naturally entered the state of loss. so, i simply and quickly went over what state of mind i was currently in, and what state of mind i needed to be in.

now y’all know i love meditating <3 so ofc i meditated. the one i used is by edward art, i believe i’ve mentioned it before. but here’s the link 😌💘

so yeah after this meditation i had completely satisfied my imagination, i had a great feeling of serenity, and i was in the state of the wish fulfilled. + i let go of any need to control the 3d.

— reminder: don’t look at your 3d as something to change. things change when they change in consciousness/imagination. if you wanna manifest something, don’t point out your current circumstance as something that you need to change. be cool and fulfill it in imagination;)

— also sn: my boyfriend knows about the law but he doesn’t necessarily study or consciously use it. so, i didn’t tell him i was revising his mom’s death.

— and i had to continue to act like his mom was actually dead when i was around him, even tho at this point kay was 100% alive in imagination.

so in the morning, i would wake up and assume the state of fulfillment. throughout the day, when i would go check on my boyfriend, he always expressed his feelings, how i could help, and new ways he was trying to cope. honestly, seeing him so hurt and confused hurt me. and throughout this, one of the few things i always reminded myself was that, i’m not my emotions and i’m my thoughts, and neither of those things matter (in terms of manifesting).

another thing i always reminded myself of was the fact that i’m god, BUT i’m also human. so, the ‘god me’ was relaxed & satisfied. the god in me also didn’t have a hurting boyfriend with a dead mom. but the ‘human me’ did and he needed my comfort.

so that’s what i did, i comforted him because he was grieving the death of his mother. so what? i’m human, and i have human decency so ima comfort my baby.

HOWEVER, i didn’t attach myself to that (accept it). i didn’t look at me comforting him as “his mom’s dead and that’s final”, i just did it because he’s my bf and he’s hurt. but i still maintained fulfillment in imagination.

— i talk about this more in depth here. but basically the post acknowledges that yes, you’re god, but you’re also still human and you have a human life to respond to. so do that, respond to your life (when necessary) while simultaneously fulfilling the inner man.

as long as you continue to return to the state and fulfill SELF, you will manifest whatever it is you’ve fulfilled.

when it manifested

the night before it manifested, my bfs dad asked everyone (the family) over for brunch. just so everyone could be together during rough times and whatnot.

the next morning when we woke up, my bf.. it was like he completely reverted; he just went back to his regular self. i made sure to take a mental note of it.

as we were driving to his dads house he was acting very normal. all that pain, hurt, etc was not there. his whole energy was different. then what really got me was when we had got to a red light. he said “i already know my moms threw down, i wonder what she cooked”……….and i’m like, i know i’m not trippin. just went along with it and agreed with him cause what was i supposed to do lol😭?

so we pull up to the house and get to the door, and one of his brothers opened it. as we’re saying hi and walking further into the house we start smelling food and my bf goes “YUP! I KNEW IT!!”

then he walks into the kitchen and says “hey ma watchu in here cooking? it smells good”……. and his mom was literally standing there smiling before she gave him a hug.

this all happened naturally by the way. it was like… she never died😂😂 the power of revision yall!

anyways the whole afternoon went by like nothing ever happened.

i honestly thought it was pretty funny. knowing how they used to interact with each other while they were grieving kay’s death vs now was hilarious. and what makes it funnier is they never knew and never will 😂😂😂

so there y’all have it, how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death. sorry i made y’all wait so long:) i literally got so demotivated while trying to type this.

feel free to ask questions cause ik yall got some😩😂 love y’all 🫶🏾

[sophiethewitch1]

congrats on the milestone sophie! i'm so excited to read what you have to share with us! For your 1k celbration, if it's not too much, I'd like to ask for ABXS for Jason and Dick uwu And if ur feeling particularly sharing I'd also love an L from all of them owo

Strei!!! Thank you for the kind words, here's what you asked for. I even did the L's as well for my dearest most beloved mutual <3

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gen yandere behaviour, murder, stalking, worshipping/weirdly religious undertones for Dick, um pet play sort of?? Jason would bark if you asked him to is all I'm saying.

A = Affection (Is Their Love All-consuming, Expressed Through Possessive Gestures and Overwhelming Intensity With No Bounds?):

Jason: Spreading my Jason Todd Loyal Dog Agenda here but he’s so unbelievably loyal. Way, way too loyal. It doesn’t matter if he personally agrees with whatever your decisions are, he’s listening like the loyal hound he is. Will push and prod at you, but at the end of the day, he’s devoted. While he’d always prefer to be as close to you as possible, he’s willing to stay away if that’s what you really want. Simple guy, aware of himself, and mostly in control of his more fervent tendencies. He refuses to lose control of you, to take too much, so he doesn’t take any. Just giving, giving, giving. He only hopes you’ll take him.

Dick: Dick is probably one of the most clingy yanderes out there. While others might stalk you, or protect you from afar, that’s not Dick’s methodology. He wants to be with you all the time, and make you happy all the time, and he spends his afternoons daydreaming about sitting between your thighs for hours at a time. All the time, if it was possible. While he’s trying not to overwhelm you, he’ll stay as calm and charming as possible. But eventually, he’s going to have to start confessing his love to you because he feels like he’ll explode with it. Along with acts of service, physical affection, and verbal affection, he also really likes buying you things. He’s an all-rounder. Still, he prefers buying you experiences rather than items, like holidays or trips to the fair. He decides against buying you a private island to visit for the summer, but only after staring at the property page online for three hours straight. Like I said, he really is trying!

B = Blood (How Messy Are They Willing to Get in Pursuit of Their Darling? Would They Embrace Chaos and Revel in the Crimson Tableau Painted by Their Actions?):

Dick: I’ve mentioned before that he’s pretty hesitant to kill. He’s gotten over his wild younger years, and is now more mature and in control of emotions. Now, all of that is one huge lie he tells himself that only lasts as long nobody ever tries to hurt you. Dick wears his heart on his sleeve, and then it gets even worse when you come around because his heart is just walking around outside his chest, with no aknowledgement for the dangers of the world. He does try, he really does, but when he snaps, he snaps hard. He’s not too bad of a sadist (also a lie) but when he easily catches whoever has been bothering you, he… well, he might play with them. Just a little bit. He doesn’t kill, he’s very careful of that, but honestly if I was that poor soul, I’d rather be dead. And then the next day, he goes back to being the cheerful sweetheart we all know and love!

Jason: I’ve also mentioned that Jason, unlike Dick, is very, very eager to get bloody. In canon, he enjoys punishing sinners and whatnot, and when he’s fallen for you, uh… So, basically, Jason would rather die than admit it, but he thinks of himself as your protector, your knight in shining leather armour. And along with that previously mentioned possessiveness, he totally lets it get out of hand. He’s aware you probably don’t want him slaughtering everyone who has ever harmed a single hair on your head, but unless you specifically tell him not to, he’s not going to stop. But if you do, he will. He’s loyal, he’s fervent in that loyalty. He wants to destroy anything that could ever hurt you. But he’d never go against your ruling, your will. He might complain about it, though. Loudly, very loudly. However, if you do want everyone who has ever annoyed you dead, he’s totally up for it no questions asked. Would probably consider it a date night of sorts.

S = Stigma (Can the Roots of Their Obsession Be Traced to a Dark Past, a Blend of Childhood Trauma, Twisted Curiosity, and a Skewed Perception of Love?):

Dick: Oh boy, this guy… He’s the poster child for childhood trauma affecting your perception of love. When his parents were murdered, he latched onto Bruce. And when Bruce kicked him out, he latched onto Bludhaven. And now when even Bludhaven can’t bring him any semblance of comfort, of home, you’re fucking heaven-sent. He latches onto you like a benign growth, and god help anyone who tries to tear the two of you apart.

Jason: Oh boy times two. Not the best childhood, raised on the streets. Taken in by Bruce, things are looking better and then- Well, we all know what happens then. After the trauma of literally digging himself out of his own grave, he feels a bit… disconnected from the world? He feels like a ghost, like he’s still dead, like his death never even mattered and the world kept going after he’d been gone. And that’d fuck up anybody, but someone personally trained by the Batman? Woof. We see in Under The Red Hood that Jason really does think vengeance is proof of love, at least in his case. To him, love is bloody and ruthless. It’s cannibalistic. A give and take. But since he doesn’t want to take from you, he’ll just give himself over wholly.

X = Xoanon (Does Their Reverence for Their Darling Border on Worship, Reaching Extreme Lengths to Prove Their Devotion and Ensure Unwavering Loyalty?):

Dick: He sees you like the sun. Powerful, brilliant, beautiful. And you’ll probably burn him to cinders as he loves you, but he doesn’t care. He probably enjoys the idea a little. Wouldn’t it be nice, to die in your arms? To close his eyes and disappear into you, where he’d never be apart from you again? He realises that sort of thinking is a bit creepy, but it’s one of the few things he simply can’t fight against. Not even the littlest bit. He’s self-aware to know he’s putting you on a pedestal, that you’re not some god or something, you’re just like him. Human. Maybe that makes him worship you even more. He can’t tell, it’s too blurry these days. He just knows you’re important, more so than he is. More so than anything is, really. Also, gotta mention body worship kink. Like, he’s really way too into it honestly. He’ll service you for however long you can last, and then place a hundred kisses against your exhausted body telling you how good you did, how perfect you are. When you look at him after a session like that, you can always see something a little too intense, too crazed to be called love. He knows he’s trying to hide it. He’ll do better next time, okay?

Jason: You’re his master. The hand around the leash. He’s angry at the world, so fucking angry. He wants to destroy it all. Assuming here, you probably don’t want the entire world blown to smithereens, so you’re his… conscience. Whatever you say goes. If you say Joker dies today, then he dies. If you say he can never kill another soul, then he won’t. He’s sassy about all of it, but it’s painfully obvious to literally everyone that he will follow every single order you give. And of course, he wants it that way. Maybe he really should get a collar for himself. He thinks it’d be cute, with your name on it in brilliant gold letters. He certainly thinks that the reaction his goons would give would be worth the effort, never mind your own reaction. Call him your good boy and you will get railed so hard you break the bed, lmfao

L = Love Letters (Is Courting an Intricate Dance Marked by Obsessive Letters and Gestures That Blur the Line Between Devotion and Insanity?):

Dick: I can’t see Dick ever actually sending you the letters he writes, but my god, he writes them. At first, it’s just little doodles in the corners of his very important paperwork, and then he’s scribbling on sticky notes, and eventually, he just gives in and buys a fucking notebook. They’re long winded and silly and he’d absolutely rather die than share them with you. But they make it just the slightest bit easier to choke down his devotion to you, so it doesn’t strangle him right then and there. He almost finds it as addicting as you are, almost being the keyword here. It’s genuinely pretty embarrassing, from an outsider’s standpoint. It’s like what a middle schooler would write in their diary, just lots of your name and hearts and very ridiculous poetry. He’d be good at it if it wasn’t about you, okay?

Jason: Jason, in direct contrast to Dick, writes very good poetry. Especially when it’s about you. It’s the sort of stuff they’ll put in museums, that future historians will write about. Of course they won’t know half of his more demented metaphors are just… straight up things he’s done for you. It’s flowing and beautiful and it’d make you tear up if you ever read it. You probably won’t just because Jason doesn’t really care if you read it, so he won’t share it with you on purpose. However if you find him one day in the library, and you ask to see whatever it is he’s made, you’ll be so very, very lucky. And Jason will turn tomato red, so that’s another plus.

Tim: Everybody knows that when Tim starts a list again, his mental health is on the decline. The list about you is concerningly long. And I’m really not saying that lightly, for Mr ‘I stalk literally everyone at least a little bit’. It’s something at four hundred thousand words by now, he’s not sure exactly. The little note app on his phone has had to suffer through hundreds or even thousands of hours of Tim writing down the most minute details of you and your life. How do you like to sit best? Is your posture okay, or should he worry about it? When you’re hungry, what food do you go for first? What about when you’re sick? If he’s ever around, tapping away on his phone, and you think he’s not paying you any attention, you’d be very, very wrong. Would probably share it with you just to laugh at your horrified face.

Damian: Damian was raised to perfect every form of art, from martial to dance, to even the more traditional ones. He’s always had a fondness for painting, and you’re most certainly his muse. Instead of letters, he paints you. For every memory he has of you, he has at least a sketch. He doesn’t care for almost all of them, as he doesn’t think they capture your beauty properly, so he doesn’t really care what happens with said drawings. Your first meeting has been drawn at least twenty times, and your sleeping face probably double that. Yes, he does draw you in more passionate poses as well. Your face all fucked out, drool leaking from your lips, is a personal favourite of his. He’ll probably share those ones with you, enjoying seeing you squirm. Asking if you want to help him find some extra inspiration because he’s all irritatingly smooth like that. Will laugh if you crush the lewd drawing up, agreeing it doesn’t do you justice. He’ll just have to try again.

[arysbruv]

Sorry, not sorry

You were a relatively newer student. You normally kept to yourself but you always dreamt of being friends with the main trio, especially with the infamous Suguru Geto. Yet, he always seemed to hate you, even when you openly showed you felt the opposite.

pairings: suguru geto x f!reader

warnings and whatnots: Mean!Geto, Jealous!Geto. He’s so rude to you. He’s realising his feelings for you!! Slow burn fic and will probably take a while to finish… Not proofread

Chapter 1: Are we still friends? Chapter 2: Can we be friends? Chapter 3: [currently reading] Chapter 4: Green looks good on you. Chapter 5: Runaway. Chapter 6: Burn

Silence.

That was all you were met with from Suguru throughout the morning. As you got ready. As you ate breakfast. As you got in the car and subsequently stayed in the car.

Silence, silence and silence.

Not a word from him was spoken to you.

You were confused but accepted it with grace. Yet, your thoughts still linger on the fact he wasn’t talking to you. What had you done to garner such treatment from him? Sure, he hated you but you thought his disdain for you had slowly mellowed down.

“What’s up with you and Suguru?” Shoko whispers to you as you both sat in the backseats of the car. Satoru in the passenger seat whilst Suguru drives.

You shrugs you shoulder. Shoko looks at you with a confused expression, looking at Suguru.

“Oi, Suguru!” She calls out, causing Suguru to hum in response, his eyes glancing over to Shoko and you then back to road. “Why are you so quiet lately? What happened with you? I miss your annoying voice.”

“I’m fine, just tired.” He says.

You knew it was a lie, his inflections and the way his eyes darted around showed so. Yet, you kept quiet, deciding not to point it out.

Hours passed in silence as you made your way on the highway, before making a pit stop at a fast food restaurant to take a quick lunch break. As you made your way out of the car, you noticed how Satoru and Shoko exchanged glances amongst themselves. You look at them inquisitively, eyebrow raised at them. They smile at you. They’ve been doing that for the last few hours, as if they’ve been having their own secret conversations that they were shielding from you and Suguru. You look up at Suguru, he looks at you before quickly trailing behind Satoru who headed straight to the restaurant.

Suguru had also noticed it. The knowing glances, the small grins and smiles. They were scheming.

He hates when they schemed. Especially, when he wasn’t apart of it.

He chooses to ignore it as he sits down next to Satoru, directly sitting in front of you much to his regret. He glances at you as you look at the menu from your seat, eyes squinting.

He hated how your eyes looked so beautiful in the sun.

He looks away, feeling heat rush up to his cheeks. How disgusting.

“What do you want, Suguru?” Satoru says, pulling him away from his thoughts. Suguru shrugs, admitting that he could go for anything. Satoru looks at Shoko, before giving her a nod, earning a confused look from Suguru.

“Alright! Shoko and I will go order! You both wait here and keep the table and our belongings safe!” Satoru announces, smiling at the both of you before quickly standing up.

You didn’t even have time to protest before Shoko stands up and smiles at you. “Don’t start a fight!” She says, giving you a small smile.

You sit in your seat, pouting as you watch them walk away, eventually your eyes wander to Suguru who was already staring at you.

Crap.

Feelings rush you, and a sense of unease fills you. You had a feeling he was going to start berating you. Yet, that never happened. Instead he just… looked at you, without saying anything.

He was an odd man you had to admit.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask, tentatively, breaking the silence. Your eyes trained on him searching for any negative emotions.

Yes. I am furious at you for not giving me the attention I need. The love I need.

“No. I’m not mad. The hell would I be?” Suguru answers, looking at you confused.

You give him an easy smile. “Oh… Then, are you in love with me?”

His eyes widen as blood rushes to his face. His face contorting into a mixture of shock and humiliation. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watch his reaction.

“You’re such an ass! Who in their right mind would like a person the likes of you?” Suguru answers rudely, hoping to illicit a hurt response from you. Yet, a feeling in his stomach and mind immediately caused him to feel regret for airing out such words. What for? You deserved it.

You continue laughing. “I don’t know, you?” You give him a smile that causes him to stumble and stutter upon his words.

No.

He hated you.

“I would never like a girl like you. Get that through your stupid head. You wish I did like you.” He says seriously, his eyes narrowing.

Hurt flashes across your face, but you quickly mask it.

“I know, I just like teasing you!” You say, smiling at him.

He saw the hurt on your face and it caused his heart to burn. He wanted nothing more but to wipe that stupid hurt look off your face.

Admit it.

Admit that you love me so that I can love you. Admit that you want me to take care of you so I can try my best. Admit that I had broken you so I could put you back together.

All those words he wanted to say, all those thoughts. He couldn’t speak, his mouth wouldn’t let him. His body wouldn’t. His body rejected you but his heart was revolting.

Thus, he sat in uncomfortable silence with you, biding his time until Shoko and Satoru return and save the both of you from this pit of despair.

The pair of them eventually came to see the both of you in a state worse than before. You smiled at them trying to convince them you were fine but they could easily see through your deceit.

Lunch was eaten in silence.

Satoru and Shoko went to pay, asking you and Suguru to start up the car. You walk up to the car, Suguru trailing behind you. Your hands were in your pockets, gripping tightly to the inside of your pants.

“y/n.”

You look back, seeing Suguru approaching you until he was directly in front of you. You didn’t know what he wanted. To insult you? To hurt you once more like he always does?

“M’sorry.” Suguru mumbles out before walking towards the driver’s side of the car.

You stand there for a second. An apology was not what you had expected. You didn’t know what to do with it. He can apologise all he wants but if he doesn’t change what’s the point? Such empty words won’t help her in the long run.

“y/n! Why are you standing outside the car? You’re gonna get hit!” Satoru says, smiling as he pulls you away from the road, nearer to the car. You smile softly at him, thanking him. He pats your shoulder and ruffles your hair, before quickly telling you something.

Suguru watches it all in the rear view mirror. The way Satoru held you, smiled at you, the way you smiled at him. Did you move on to him?

His hand. The way Satoru’s hand lingered on you. Lingered upon your waist as he pulls you out the road. It should’ve been him. Why Satoru? His teeth grit as he watches Satoru smile and laugh with you. Is that how it would be if he was close with you?

Satoru smiles at you once more before entering the backseat, leaving you with an exasperated look. Suguru wondered what had transpired between the both of you.

The door to the passenger seat opens, you entering the car, and giving a small shy smile to him, almost as if he didn’t just wound you.

“Satoru says that he wants to hang out with Shoko at the back. He says that you’re too boring,” You state, laughing slightly.

Suguru rolls his eyes, looking at the back where Satoru gives him an unapologetic look. He turns to you, the sound of your laugh sending shivers into him. He ignores it, turning to the road and starting to drive.

~

Everyone had fallen asleep, everyone except Suguru. He was cruising on the road at the an average speed, the road almost empty. He glances over at your sleeping figure.

You looked so peaceful.

You hair covering parts of your face, your small movements and small mumbles that fell out of your mouth as you slept.

He swore he heard you mumble his name out.

“It’s rude to stare.” You say, eyes fluttering open and looking at Suguru.

Suguru felts knots in his stomach as your eyes concentrated on him. He clears his throat and looks in front. Ashamed that he had been called out, especially with a line he had said to you a few days back.

“Where are we?” You ask, yawning as you stretch your arms out.

Suguru’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. “We’re nearing the hotel. We can make a quick stop at the next town to eat early dinner.” Suguru says, plainly.

You keep quiet, earning a glance from Suguru. You frown as you think. You were still half asleep, your eyes blurry and your brain foggy.

“Why do you hate me Sugu?” You ask, the use of the nickname causing him to shiver.

“I…” He didn’t know how to answer such a forward question.

If you had asked him that question months ago, nay two days ago, he could’ve given you a plethora of answers with detailed explanations. Yet, when you asked it right now, he was speechless.

He couldn’t answer.

Why did he hate you?

You weren’t a bad person nor mean. Annoying sure but you’ve quickly grown out of it. Your only sin was that you had fallen for him. You had fallen for a man who couldn’t deal with love.

Did he hate you?

Yes he did, he had to hate you. That’s what made sense.

Yet, why couldn’t he explain why he hated you.

“I… I don’t hate you.” He says softly, turning to you to gauge your response. Yet, what he was met with was the soft snores of you who had already fallen back to sleep.

He clicked his tongue. How annoying.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t like you.

He looks back to the road, his grip tight on the steering wheel as he focuses on driving.

He was tired.

Yes, that was it. He was tired. That’s why he wasn’t thinking straight. He was tired.

He looked upon your sleeping face. The way the setting sun shines upon your face was unexplainably beautiful, the way it lit up your face and put it on a spotlight. The ways your eye flutter slightly as the rays of gold hit your face.

He just needed some rest.

[erzva]

big fan of pussy drunk ! luffy..

. . .

its canon to me idk

like if your brain doesn’t register this as canon or something that’s very in character for luffy you’re just wrong

although i do also definitely see him as aroace or think he could be aroace

but if i were to strictly hc him as aroace it wouldn’t really be any fun for me, a luffy lover.

so i also see him as someone who loves sex. not in a weird way. he just loves you and making you feel good. and feeling good himself. + it’s so fun. everyone knows luffy is weak to things that are fun. idk i just think he would enjoy sex a lot with the person he loves.

or i can honestly also see him being aromantic but pansexual. and just liking sex as an activity. he’s a very active kid so, again, i think he would enjoy sex. bc sex can be fun and intimate and enjoyable

like there’s no way he wouldn’t wanna try it. he loves trying new things. you’re telling me he wouldn’t go feral after his first time with you? you opened his mind to something new and very fun

he’ll be asking for sex all the time now.

this man is mischievous and annoying. he does whatever he sets his mind to

so there’s not really telling him no.

ofc he won’t force you

but he’s exceptionally skilled at getting people to do whatever he wants.

he’ll make you come around sooner or later

because once he’s set on wanting to bury his cock into your warm cunt, he won’t stop until he gets to do it

he will start whining and begging if you don’t give him what he wants right away

especially if you give a lame excuse like “the others will hear” or “what if someone walks in”. if you pull any of tha, he knows he can be annoying and pushy.

but he also knows when you’re serious about your ‘excuses’ or “no’s” so he’d just drop it and opt for the second best thing in the world after meat: you. touching you, hugging you, clinging to you.

bc even if he can’t have sex with you, which is always so much fun and feels good- he doesn’t mind because it’s not important to him. being with you is enough

and honestly you were only truly against having sex very rarely. like when you were feeling unwell or it was an unfitting moment or whatnot. but you liked having him work for it. because you know that eventually he’ll start being whiny and desperate. oh and how you loved desperate luffy. begging with his big dark chocolate brown eyes.. and whining into your ear while rubbing himself on you, trying to hide what’s going on by disguising it as a hug so it doesn’t look too suspicious to your poor crewmates who unfortunately already know what he’s doing anyway..

until you finally give in and give him what he wants only for him to give you the biggest most genuine sunshine smile ever. his eyes widening at you giving him the go. it’s probably what you love most about him. his smile and how his entire face lights up..

however when it’s just the two of you in the captains chambers his expression turns dark and serious very fast. usually with a hint of mischief but not always. he can be very serious in moments like this too. you made him wait long enough. no time for silliness

there’s two types of pussydrunk ! luffy

he goes feral and it’s messy, chaotic and desperate. fast and rough, anything to get the two of you to reach climax.

slow loving sensual passionate sex. the kind of sex that really shows how much you love one another. the kind everyone dreams about. it feels good and it’s emotional

whenever he just wants to have fun and feel good, he’ll opt for the first version. the kissing would be hungry, passionate and desperate. he’ll be kissing and sucking on your neck and groping you harshly to get you wet. he’s impatient and just wants to cum deep inside of you. but not before he gets to lap at your delicious cunt. first things first. luffy never starts penetration without getting you nice and wet with his tongue beforehand.

but when he’s feeling sappy and emotional and loving the sex would be very sensual. but not necessarily slow. you still wanna cum after all. but the foreplay would be a lot more soft and gentle and he would take his time with you. kissing you everywhere thoroughly and massaging your flesh.

he doesnt only get pussydrunk for his cock inside your cunt though

he also gets pussy drunk when eating you out

oftentimes wanting to go more than one round

usually sex with him includes making out heavily, him eating your cunt, penetration / you grinding on him / you giving him a hand or blowjob- and then him eating you out again.

he is a MUNCH. he’s gonna be all up in your pussy

i mean he loves eating and never cared about what he looks like while eating (which is usually very chaotic and dirty) so you bet he’s gonna be just as messy when it comes to you and your cunt

he buries his face so deep in your pussy it’s overstimulating sometimes because he doesn’t stop once you cum. he stops when he wants to stop

sex isn’t sex without him getting a taste of you

and he oftentimes only wants to eat your pussy

keyword being “eat” bc it really does feel like he’s eating you alive (in the best most fulfilling way possible)

craziest head game in the entire op universe

he eats you out before going to sleep a lot. ‘helps him sleep better’ he claims

but he also wants to eat you out when he wakes up

he’s still groggy and tired and not really awake at all so he asks you to let him burry his face in your sweet warm cunt so he can ‘have a good day’ and also because it ‘helps him become more awake’

sure..

maybe you really do help him that way.. or maybe they’re mostly cheap excuses

and usually him being pussydrunk on eating you out leads to him wanting to burry his cock inside of you

because licking and tasting you is just so arousing. it makes him so hard and needy, always rutting his hips into the mattress while his tongue’s all over you. you taste like nothing he’s ever tasted before and he can’t get enough of it. he loves smelling and tasting your pussy. it makes him desperate, whiny and feral

you are never left feeling unsatisfied with luffy as your man

. . .

[voltronisanobsession]

So you like my ideas, huh? Well, I hope I can continue to create some good ones for you! I shall try my best 🫡

Oh! I do have one request in mind, how about Percy being paired with reader who’s the child of Athena? Yes, yes, I know an amazing half-blood known as Annabeth exists but I had something in mind.

We all know how children of Athena are seen as wise, intellectual, clever, and combative people but what if the reader was different than that? There’s several types of intelligence after all, so what if they specialized in emotional intelligence and craft?

I can see them being insecure of their “abilities” since they know their siblings can do better, and even fear that Athena herself is disappointed in them, but, while Percy thought it was strange at first, he soon found himself enjoying those traits.

I mean, with their emotional intelligence, the reader knows when he’s upset no matter how hard he tries to hide it, and they tend to give him gifts like Melinoe!reader. They’re probably usually architectural models, weavings, mini sculptures of what he enjoys… You know all that good stuff. They probably gifted him something as something to remember them by when he went on a quest… but I’ll leave that up to you.

Combat practice to bond/as dates 👀?

Also, I’m not sure if you saw, but I like long headcanons so stop apologizing and keep it up!/lh

Poor all of your thoughts into it if you have to or want, I like it!

Percy with a Child of Athena!Reader

I literally LOVE these detailed asks UGGHHH!! I love the idea of instead having a different form of intelligence as a child of athena like damn😍 I'm getting used to brain dumping on these, its a work in progress🙈

Sorry for answering so late😭

Lowkey this reader sticks out like a sore thumb amongst their siblings😭

I like to think that most Athena kids are usually on the more serious sides, so it surprises a lot of campers outside of the Athena cabin to see Reader extremely expressive!

While the other Athena children spend their time devising tactical plans for big camp games, reader is just on the side doodling architectural designs and whatnot

They aren’t as involved in what their siblings do because it doesn’t interest them much

Like whenever they try and ask for readers opinions and start using big ass words, they just smile and nod cuz they had no idea what the others were saying

Athena's children are extremely intelligent so its difficult for reader to be on the same wave length as their siblings

It lowkey makes them feel like an outcast in their cabin because they cant really connect with their siblings like they do with each other while they talk about subjects beyond reader’s comprehension

Constantly being surrounded by books, scrolls and maps full of knowledge, reader often beats themselves over not being able to comprehend and show interest in wanting to learn about these types of things

They’re led to believing that they are a defect amongst their mothers children (crying)

They are always surrounded by reminders of their own inabilities to match their sibling’s intelligence which is why they spend little time in the Athena cabin, and even littler time with their siblings

Readers only saving grace is that they are always in tune with peoples emotions and feelings, no matter how well or little they know the people around them

Whether its feelings of anxiousness, sadness, quiet anger, or happiness, reader always seems to know how a person is feeling!

The first time Percy meets reader is when he spots them at the crafting hut

Being one of his first activities in the beginning of the day, he notices how reader is always there before anyone else

Percy probably thought you were apart of the Hephaestus cabin or something like that with how many times he’s seen you sculpting and carving away at a new project every other day

So he’s surprised when you reveal that you’re actually a child of Athena

He would definitely notice how you distance yourself from your siblings, especially during breakfast, lunch and dinner

He’s good friends with Annabeth so he sees the differences between you, her and your siblings

While she and her siblings are more closed off and have their noses stuck up a new book everyday, your always seen drawing or weaving a new tapestry for your cabin

You show your emotions more openly compared to their more dismissive nature as well!

He definitely sees you as the 'social butterfly' of the Athena cabin

The more time he spends with reader though, he notices just how in tune they are with his feelings

He could give the smallest, most insignificant indication that he's had a bad day and you'd be able to read him like an open book

It's easy talking to you about his conflicting emotions, your patience and thoughtful expression gives him more confidence to just let everything out

I think he would definitely fall for how empathetic you are in many situations

You've made many friends with campers from different cabins because of this quality trait! Always learning and understanding a situation/conflict that arises, you're always able to resolve the problems that makes it fair for all parties involved

Despite this, Percy is confused and a bit surprised to find out that you're actually insecure about this dominating trait of yours

"What?! It's literally the best thing about you though!"

"I know but its just! My siblings aren't the way I am. They're able to actually use their skills for something. All I can do is listen to people and make friends. That's nothing special. I'm useless."

It PAINS him to hear you say that because its obvious you don't understand the importance of being as emotionally intelligent as you are

He makes it his mission to show you just how many people you've helped, to show you that you have a reason to be proud of what you're able to do!

You slowly open yourself more after hearing all his reassurance, from him and other people around camp

It's definitely a positive change as you have a pep to your step now. You engage with you siblings more now that you have a confidence in your own abilities.

You make him many sculptures as thank you gifts! Even when he says that you don't need to, you cant help admit that enjoy giving him these gifts with a nervous smile

You've made him a mini version Riptide and even have given him a small owl pendant

You were hesitant to give him the pendant because it seemed more intimate compared to your other gifts, but he happily accepted it with a soft smile

AND WHEN HE PUT THE PENDANT ON IN FRONT OF YOU YOUR HEART NEARLY LEPT OUT OF YOUR CHEST I CCANNTTT

I think reader would be pretty aware of Percy's feelings for them which makes them feel fuzzy

So imagine how you feel when Percy pulls up to you one late afternoon after not seeing him for the entire day to give you a small pendant of his own

The sculpting of the trident is definitely more crude and less detailed compared to the one you gave him, something Percy abashedly admits but you wave him off

"It's beautiful, thank you Percy."

"No problem, now we're matching!"

You're aware of your own feelings for him as you are aware of his feelings for you, so it doesn't take long for a confession to happen

I mean matching pendants? come on bro its so painfully obvious to everyone

Percy falls for who reader is, not because their a child of Athena

He doesn't care that you're different from your siblings because he understands everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses

You still represent Athena with pride and he'll happily support you till the end

PERCY IS SUCH A GREEN FLAG IN GENERAL I LOVE WRITING FOR HIM💔💔

[asliceofzosan]

zoro doesn't care if people forget his birthday. he really doesn't. but when it's his own boyfriend who doesn't acknowledge his birthday at all... that's a whole different thing entirely. (zosan modern au for zoro's birthday!)

Zoro never understood the hype around birthdays.

It's just another year. 19 didn't feel that different to being 18. 21 didn't feel that different to being 20. He's pretty sure it's going to be the same all the way up to his 80's. He understands the importance of milestones and whatnot but other than that, celebrating his birthday was an afterthought.

It's the big 26 today — one year closer to his thirties — but again, it's just an ordinary day. He woke up, showered for once, and headed straight for the kitchen where his boyfriend was already cooking breakfast and dancing to whatever new K-POP song came out. One of the perks of moving in with Sanji was the early morning entertainment Zoro gets everyday.

Zoro leans against the kitchen island, just watching Sanji hum along to words Zoro can't understand. He loves moments like this. He developed a habit of watching Sanji every time he isn't looking. It's his favorite way to start the day. It gets even better when Sanji notices him, his face lighting up brighter than the sun, and throws his arms around Zoro in their daily good morning embrace.

However, this time, Sanji just looks over his shoulder with a shocked expression.

"Oh, you're already awake!" Sanji exclaims and he steps aside from his work station to reveal he was packing up bento boxes. "I wasn't expecting you to wake up until 10 since you're off work today."

"Thought it would be a good day to wake up early," Zoro says slowly, brows furrowed at each passing second that Sanji doesn't give him his morning hug and kiss. Zoro doesn't think he's clingy, he'd murder you if you said so, but they have a routine. And the routine includes morning hugs and kisses until they're both breathless. Why isn't Sanji bounding over to him and showering his face with kisses and squeezing the daylights out of him? Was he in the twilight zone?

Sanji just keeps on arranging the bento boxes carefully, labelling them with post-it notes and his signature sparkly gel pen that Nami gave him as a joke gift. Zoro stays rooted to the spot, patience waning the longer Sanji doesn't kiss him.

"I was called in today to cover some shifts at the Baratie," Sanji starts to say as he maneuvers his way to the fridge. Zoro scowls when Sanji passes him and doesn't even peck him on the cheek. His voice is a little muffled when he places the bento boxes into the fridge, explaining that he might be out the whole day and won't be back until 10PM earliest.

10PM. Earliest.

"I already pre-made your meals for the day. Breakfast is warming up in the oven right now." Eventually, Sanji does end up giving Zoro a little peck on the cheek, but Zoro felt himself subconsciously chasing after the cook's lips as he moves away. Sanji gives him a warm smile. Zoro thinks he's about to have an aneurysm.

"Sorry, I can't eat breakfast with you today." And to his credit, Sanji looks genuinely apologetic. "The Baratie's gonna be packed. You'll be okay by yourself, right?"

Zoro knew that not making a big deal out of his birthday was his own damn fault but this just seems... off. In every way possible.

Because of all the people in the world, how is it that Sanji has forgotten his birthday?

Sanji, the man who marks every major and minor holiday on his google calendar so he has an excuse to cook a big feast for his friends? Sanji, the man who cried his eyes out when he found out Zoro never had a proper birthday party because he understands the feeling of not being celebrated. Sanji, who loves rom-coms, choose-your-own-adventure interactive novels, and thinks that the way food is arranged on the plate can clearly indicate one's emotions.

Sanji, the biggest sap in history, has forgotten his boyfriend's birthday.

"Zoro?" Sanji's voice slices through the fog of confusion slowly filling up his brain. The hand cradling his face forces him back to reality but all he could do was stare longingly at Sanji, begging him with his eyes to not go. Sanji runs his thumb gently over his cheek and Zoro nuzzles into his hand like a stubborn child. Sanji chuckles.

"I'll be back, you big softie." His reassurance doesn't sit well with Zoro but he only manages to nod. Sanji leans down to kiss Zoro, too chaste and too fast, before pulling away far too quickly. Zoro watches miserably as Sanji puts his jacket on, grabs his keys, and bids him goodbye.

Zoro manages to meet him at the entryway, his hand catching Sanji's arm before he leaves. Sanji tilts his head at him, smiling at him in the way he does when Zoro is being stubborn. "What is it, marimo?"

Zoro stares down Sanji with his good eye, willing and pleading him to remember. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Sanji blinks. Zoro blinks. Then, Sanji smiles and Zoro thinks he actually gets it.

Until Sanji pulls him into a searing kiss. When they pull away, Sanji rubs their noses together and lets go.

"Can't forget the goodbye kiss!" Sanji places one more kiss on Zoro's nose then leaves a very dazed, very irritated Zoro at the entryway.

from: cap'n luffy

zoooorrooooooo happy birthday !!!!!!!!!! zoro zoro zorooooo have a good day ^_^

from: witch of the sea

happy birthday you big lug <3 as my present, your debt is reduced by 10% ;)

from: chopper

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZORO! I LOVE YOU! DON'T GET SICK TODAY OKAY?!?

from: ussop :^\

BIG 26 ! HBD MY MAN ! you don't look a day over 19 ^_^ honest!! maybe they'll even ID you at the club HAHAHHAHAHAHA

from: robin

Happiest birthday, Zoro. I've deposited birthday booze money into your bank account. Have fun.

from: franky B)

HAVE A SUUUUUPPPEEERR BDAY BRO ! My bday gift isnt ready yet tho i still need to tweek it bUT ! ur gonna love it!! trust !

from: brook

zoro_birthday song_final_real final_absolutely final.mp3

from: jinbe

Have a fruitful birthday today, Zoro. You only turn 26 once!

Time ticks by and Zoro reads and re-reads all the birthday greetings from his friends. Many of them even sent multiple messages in their group chat. It mostly consisted of Luffy and Chopper spamming the chat with birthday gifs. It eased Zoro's racing mind just a little. But he can't help himself from opening up his chat logs with Sanji...

And still nothing.

Just a simple 'hbd marimo' from him would have eased his worries. But Sanji hasn't even messaged him once throughout the entire day. Usually, he'd send a couple of pictures to prove that he's alive. One time, he event sent a selfie while something caught on fire behind him. That's Zoro's wallpaper right now.

It really, really shouldn't be bothering him this much that Sanji hasn't said anything about his birthday. It's also not hard to forget Zoro's birthday. It's literally 11/11. It could not have been a more convenient date.

But Sanji was always the more romantic one of the two of them. Zoro can be accidentally romantic, sure, but Sanji likes grand gestures and showering others with love in every way possible.

Sanji is the last person on earth to forget Zoro's birthday.

He may have never understood the hype around celebrating his birthday. He hasn't had a party since his 18th. But there's something that's mildly irritating that his own boyfriend just straight up treats it like any other day. And not only that, he just leaves Zoro alone too. To celebrate his birthday miserably in their empty apartment with a box of reheated leftovers on his lap.

He doesn't want to admit that he's hurt.

But he is.

However, before he could pick up his phone again to call Sanji and give him a piece of his mind, it starts to ring. He scrambles to answer it without even checking the caller ID. The relief that washes over him when he hears Sanji's voice on the other line was indescribable.

"Cook," and it really shouldn't have come out this desperate. But Zoro is really hanging on by a thread here. "Are you going to tell me something?"

"Yeah! I can't believe I completely forgot!" Sanji's laugh is like a balm to Zoro's anxious conscience but it immediately slips away when Sanji continues.

"I forgot my phone at home."

Zoro almost growls in frustration. "I'm borrowing Patty's right now. Can you do me a favor and look for a recipe that I saved on my notes app? It's super important."

"What could be so much more important than..." Zoro trails off, managing to actually find Sanji's phone on the kitchen counter. Right where he was just this morning. "I fuckin' found it." He taps on the screen, his heart pinching when he sees that Sanji's lockscreen is a candid photo of the two of them taken the exact day they finally got together. Sanji's head was tucked against Zoro's shoulder, his cheeks flushed red, laughing and laughing at something Zoro can't remember anymore. And Zoro... was just looking at Sanji like he was his whole world.

And he still is.

Maybe that's why Sanji forgetting hurts even more.

"What's your passcode?" He grumbles, putting his own phone on speaker.

"I'm surprised you don't know it," Sanji says, footsteps seeming to echo on the other line. "It's pretty hard to forget."

"Contrary to popular opinion, I respect your privacy sometimes Curly."

"How sweet," Sanji says sarcastically. Zoro can practically hear the eyeroll. "But seriously. You know the passcode."

"No I fucking don't?" He exclaims incredulously, glaring at his phone in the hopes Sanji can probably feel it too. "What the fuck are you on about, cook? I don't know your damn passcode!"

"Yes, you do." The fact that Sanji isn't yelling back like he usually does sits uneasily in Zoro's stomach. "Fine, I'll give you a hint since my little marimo needs some help with his homework." Zoro grumbles that he's not a child but Sanji just ignores it. "It's related to the most important person in my life."

Zoro furrows his brows. "Zeff?"

Sanji chuckles. "Try again."

"Um," He scratches his head this time. "Nami?"

"As much as I wish that were true," Sanji sighs dramatically and it was Zoro's turn to roll his eyes. "It's not her. Come on now, mosshead. You know who it is."

The way Sanji's voice softened made something click in Zoro's brain. With a long shaky breath, Zoro took Sanji's phone, stared at the lockscreen one more time, and inputted a significant number.

111197

November 11, 1997

Then Sanji's phone unlocked.

"Did you get it?"

Zoro couldn't concentrate on Sanji's voice. Because staring right at him was the picture Sanji used as his homescreen.

A beautifully edited candid picture of Zoro, his face glowing against a gorgeous sunset, the light shining through his hair in an otherworldly haze. There was text edited above his chest and it read, clear as day:

Happy Birthday, my everything

"Can you open the door for me, love?"

As if on autopilot, Zoro walked to the door, Sanji's phone still in his hand, and he opened it to see his boyfriend standing right there. His face was illuminated by the glow of a single candle sitting on top of a simple vanilla cupcake. Surrounding that cupcake was a plate full of carefully arranged sushi, onigiri, grilled meats, and dipping sauces.

And written with an elegant hand at the edge of the plate, with something Zoro can somehow identify as a thickened oyster sauce was the same thing he read on Sanji's home screen wallpaper:

Happy Birthday, my everything

"Did you really think that I would forget?" Sanji says, the love in his eyes shining through the light of the candle. "You guessed the passcode, didn't you?"

"You piece of shit." Zoro's voice cracked only slightly (only slightly!) "I'm gonna fucking murder you, I swear to god."

"You don't believe in god," Sanji says matter of factly, reaching up to cup Zoro's face with one hand. Zoro scoffs but there's no lick of malice to it. Sanji then presents the cupcake to him and with another roll of his eye, Zoro blows the candle out, much to Sanji's amusement.

He knows he's supposed to be making a wish or whatever but he doesn't. Everything he's ever wished for is right here, standing in their doorway, with a plate of food made by his own hands. Hands that he kisses every night. Hands that cradle his face like Zoro is something to be treasured.

Hands that hold his, no matter what life throws at them.

Stepping into the apartment, Sanji places the plate of food on the table at the entryway, then drapes his arms over Zoro's shoulders. Zoro's hands find Sanji's waist immediately.

And finally, Sanji says the words Zoro's been waiting to hear all day.

"Happy Birthday, Zoro."

Then, Sanji kisses him, his lips soft and his hands warm as they tangle into Zoro's hair. Zoro deepens the kiss, thinking that maybe celebrating his birthday isn't so bad after all.

[edelfie]

#𝓣𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘! this means war.

while you are off doing your own thing, being controversial and whatnot, a certain pest in your side seems to be buzzing about. unfortunately for her though, she’ll have to try a little harder to keep up with you.

or, lia loses her mind a little

POST CREDITS! —

As far as Lia is concerned, you are nothing more than an obstacle in her way. Sure, a persistently irritating obstacle, but a measly one nonetheless. Whatever game you were trying to get at wouldn't work on her.

She really shouldn't be wasting her energy on you anyways. She already has everything she wants: the best job in the world, all the money a girl could dream of, and her fiancé. Keyword: hers. Perhaps she is a bit territorial, but isn't it natural for any girl to be with their things?

Following their heated argument though, she isn't so certain where she stands with the man in question. She knew her words were hurtful the moment her fingers flung across the screen, and she won't fawn and play innocent knowing that was exactly why she sent them in the first place. It's just...so hard to communicate her emotions to Atsumu when he takes everything she says or does as a joke.

It's funny. Everyone in her life has expressed their own feelings about the constant push and pull of their relationship. Years of infrequent dating and uncertain feelings culminating into a very real, very permanent engagement was not how she envisioned their relationship ending. Because while Lia thinks she loves Atsumu, she knows he's difficult to be with.

When they were younger and had just started dated, she gave him the benefit of the doubt more often than not. That he was simply "like that", constantly riding on the brink and not giving a damn about what others thought about him. And to a degree, she found him aspirational for that and even wanted to replicate him in that sense.

That was, until, it started affecting her work. She began losing brand deals and sponsorships because the boy she was dating couldn't behave himself for the two hours he was in public. It was ridiculous! At times, it felt like she wasn't his girlfriend, but his mother, his publicist, and his manager all in one. And maybe that does make her selfish for not going to his games, but when does she get to be selfish in their relationship?

She feels the most empowered, the most authentic, the most selfish every time she calls it off. She gets to enjoy her freedom, then watch as Atsumu comes crawling back to her. Sometimes he outright says he'll change (he doesn't usually), or he'll demand that she "match his effort" (she won't). Maybe it's antithetical to some, but for Lia it just makes sense.

So despite dating Atsumu Miya being equivalent to forcing a square into a circle, Lia would rather die than let anyone take him away from her.

NOTES! —

Sorry for the smaller chapter today! I just couldn’t think of a way to fluff it up that wouldn’t already be included in future chapters. If I do get any ideas though, I’ll be sure to update this and post a notif. Also, Lia isn't meant to be like a token "mean girl", she's very flawed and human and that's a result of her environment. She is still bitchy of course, but not evil. Anyways, today’s fundraiser is to help the Liberty Lancers Marching Band purchase new uniforms! While it may seem miniscule compared to other "issues", as someone who's partner marches and has come to love band themselves, having new uniforms would mean the world for these students. You can click here to donate or read more on their story.

In other news, I am back from my (tiny) break! Though I’ll admit, I didn’t use that time wisely to plan ahead for my next releases LOL. I had fun though!

I presented my speech in class on Tuesday, which wasn’t as scary as I thought but I’m still glad it’s over LMAO. After that I went to the gym to work out for about 30 mins, before heading home to go on a date. We walked around downtown and went bowling, to which he absolutely wiped the floor with me I fear. And then today in one of my classes we had a rock, paper, scissors tournament (gotta love college LOL) and…I WON! We did it a few times but I just kept winning or getting very close, so I was named the RPS champion ^-^

PREV + MASTERLIST + NEXT

© all rights reserved—edelfie (2024) // do not plagiarize, modify, copy, use, translate, or repost my work on other sites without permission

[milffies]

Hiiuuu luv hru!? ❤️ you're LITERALLY my favourite writer who writes angel devil so well!! If you're well and still into csm, is it possible for u to write for him? Maybe more nsfw? (Feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like writing this!) MISSED U SM

hiii nonnie , i'm good , just real busy!!! i'm so glad u like my writing :3 i'm still into csm, just haven't seen the fandom that active but i love angel a whole lot so i enjoyed writing this sm . <33

— ౨ৎ : warnings angel devil x chubby! reader . basically a smutty character study, very tame.

to start things off, angel is terribly gullible !! either he doesn’t care enough, or hasn’t been exposed to people for that long to understand when he’s being 'played'. sweet boy is very, very mallible !! <3

with that said — getting him into a contract that’d allowed for you to freely touch him without risking your lifespan wasn’t all too difficult. once again, it’s between equally likely possibilities that angel let this happen because he admittedly craves touch, or simply didn’t expect himself to get tricked. if you’d ever ask him about the matter, all you’ll be met with is a lazy shrug and an ‘i’dunno’ on his end.

butbutbut!!, once you’ve introduced him to physical contact, and he see’s that it’s something enjoyable, angel very quickly becomes a lovey, mushy, needy puddle. calls you his ‘favorite human’ and all !! though, he is still a devil before all else, and combined with his already nonchalant personality, he’ll process emotions ‘n whatnot very differently. give the poor thing time, though — he’ll get better at this for you !!

the first time you touch angel’s hand — you note that it’s surprisingly soft. after a second of thought, though, you conclude it isn’t too shocking considering this is angel devil. the devil with big, expressive eyes and pretty pink lips. lips you often times find yourself imaging not being lethal.

he jerks his hand away from yours after you’d two had made a contract that’d give you free reign to touch him. you watch as he looks at his hand as if you were the one that could drain his very life essence away. the thought makes you wonder if devil’s even have the life force to even get sucked away.

those same doe-like eyes of his blinks in succession a few times before landing on you.

“soo,” you’d drawl, a small, knowing grin on your lips. “i feel fine. i’m guessing that didn’t take off any of my time?”

you’re met with a shaky nod from the smaller figure. he licks a stripe over the thin expanse of his lips your eyes still haven’t fully moved from.

“can….can you touch me again?”

the only, truly proper way to describe an early ‘relationship’ angel is as a needy kitten. the ones that very and visibly clearly want affection and attention — but never initiate physical contact first. at times, he’ll reluctantly sprawl himself on you, a guiding hand on your wrist being led to his head. nono — of course he doesn’t need your attention !! you just happen to be a convient source of it (he convinced himself this to be the reason why he likes being around you.)

as angel is exposed to more affection and touch — and you bring him to the revelation that it can be sexual — a noticable spike in his clinginess is very obvious. constantly seeking out reassurance when nestled into you — a shy, reluctant: “we can uhm…cuddle…right?”, an unsure: “work was soo tiring today, can we hug ‘n stuff…?” to the suprise of none; he didn’t really do any devil hunting — but that’s an afterthought to him when you coddle him as if he’s some little, helpless thing. he’s too precious like this, how can you not take advantage of the moment !! <3

if you’re chubby: angel is all over you even more !! so soft, so warm — you’re pratically his own heated, weighted blanket. angel knows he’s more petite and lithe, by human standards, and clearly by devil standards. loves how nice his smaller frame slots so perfectly against your own larger body though, constantly nuzzling up against the softest parts of you.

“stop movin’ s’much,” a muffled voice murmurs, the owner of the voice’s head comfortably buried in your chest.

“tryin’ to get comfy.” angel lazily says, gazing up at you, his pretty long lashes obscuring parts of his irises. he’d been that close to probably having the greatest nap in his life, but he couldn’t find himself fully drifting off because of you shifting around. truly, you were a blessing and a curse. cozy and soft to the touch, but always moving — interrupting his plans to laze around. </3

with a small smile and a hand to his scalp, a muttered apology is given to him. how can you not adore him like this?; pressed so close to you as if he’s trying to melt into you, breathes shallow and not completely taken with the bratty front he usually puts up.

angel feels your own rising chest even out, letting out a content sigh. finally, it’s hard trying to get proper shut-eye when your human pillow can’t stop moving.

“thas’ better…” the devil murmurs, pretty eyelashes fluttering, before closing.

like i wrote about in this post, angel, like everything else, is very lazy when it comes to him and sexual encounters. this doesn’t in specific mean that he’s not a good partner, or unattentive to your needs — he just doesn’t know. that, and, he never puts extra energy into anything he does, even if this, (to him) unknowingly jeopardizes his own pleasure. baby doesn’t just yet grasp the concept that, the thing that already makes him feel good and overwhelmed, could somehow be better !! </3

very, very sweet and absorbed in what makes the two of you feel the best. especially you. kissing this part of you makes you let out those pretty noises for him? noted. pressing, and rubbing his fingers in unsteady circles has you closing your doughy thighs around his hand? angel’s certainly keeping that tucked away in his head. will want you desperately to talk him through it, guiding him where to touch, suck, and kiss. actually puts in effort when you praise him, don’t acknowledge the fact he lives off this though — he pouts !!

angel’s hips rolls against your own softer ones at a languid pace, occasionally pistoning down to give a proper thrust.

“w—warm…” he lets out — the sound a mix between a murmur and a whine. he bites his bottom lip and hides his face in your neck to cut the sound off prematurely. feels too good for him; too squishy, too syrupy. god, how did he manage existence for so long without ever feeling this ?

“yeah?” you tease, a hand coming to comb through his slightly damp locks. at the touch, angel properly lets out a whine, his hips giving one, two, then three quick thrusts into your too-tight pussy. though his moves are uncoordinated, the shakey rocking of his pelvis against yours has your pussy rewarding his movements with tight clenches. and of course—

“yeah.” he echoes — he whimpers. "feels s’good — feels good f’you too…right?” how eager he is to please. though, he’d never admit it. but you can tell, especially with how he’s zeroing in on rolling his hips in tight circles — knows that gets you to tighten up around his pretty cock and let out hushed moans of your own.

“good boy, angel.” you sigh, head lolling back, prompting him to bury his face deeper into your sweaty flesh. needs to be close to you, needs to know this is real.

angel’s too precious like this — not fully understandant on how to please sexually. the small devil is unintentionally edging you, you’re so close to making a sticky mess over the petite man — if only he was a ‘lil bit more experienced.

though, that’s what you’re there for, right? <3

[t-art-c]

Love that Beat Vanity

Scaramouche/GN! Reader - Forced Established Marriage

TW: Domestic Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Verbal Abuse

A/N: HELLO! Thank you for reading my goofy little oneshots once again. I've decided to have every Scaramouche fics I write on this acc to have some kind of continuation. So, if you have read my previous works, the reader's lore will be the same throughout this series. But you don't have to read the previous works to catch up with the story since I wrote it as oneshots, scenarios and whatnot.

If you choose not to read the previous works, Reader was an orphan who survived stealing from people but stole from the wrong person one time and was taken and placed in a human trafficking ring, Scaramouche bought her to work at for the Fatui and the rest is history.

-----

It has been 5 years since Scaramouche has taken you as his spouse. You have still not adapted well into this new "domestic" life that was forced onto you by your husband. The lessons you have to keep taking because you can't make yourself to remember it all, has started to take a toll on your body.

Sleep has been difficult to achieved, it might be near impossible as your husband demands for the two of you to sleep together in the same bed, as husband and spouse. But try as you might to close your eyes, the moment you feel his arms snake around your waist, you freeze up like a statue and not sleep until you pass out from exhaustion. However, when you wake up from fainting, you'll feel the blanket placed properly on top of you, the bed side where your husband would always lay on, cold.

You have no doubt that Scaramouche loves you, too much in fact.

Early in the morning, he would leave you in bed and attend to his harbinger duties. Not a single item of his was ever misplaced whenever he fixes himself up. His sakura blossom perfume would always be placed in it proper spot and his brush to add the rouge over his eyelids were clean from any color, as if it was never even used.

Tidiness can't be said the same to your vanity table. Although you rarely use the furniture as it was intended, you do use it as something to leave the fabrics that you have meticulously stitched from the lessons that Scaramouche forced on you. They were ugly, so you have no idea why your husband lets you leave them in the open.

Your 'lovely' Scaramouche once commented on how your needlework was "god awful that even a child can do better". You might not have expressed it physically, but it hurt to hear him say that. Blood was spilled when you were creating your first fabric But you learned the truth later on that the first finished fabric you have created was hidden in the drawer of his office.

It makes your heart confused on why he has to resort to harsh tactics to get a semblance of your "love". Why can't your husband act like a normal person?

Mornings has been something you have been waiting for every single day for the past 5 years. For the whole morning, you have the manor all to yourself. A place for you to be alone with your thoughts. But when the hour hand reaches 12 PM, your teacher for that day will be coming to teach you another useless skill that you will never remember.

[trainofcommand]

I'm just going to call this post Major Lorne Expressing Emotions

Yeah, okay, I will admit to a weakness for Lorne looking stern, and you know, like he's not going to take any shit. But! He's got range, right? Other emotions that show up on his face in ways that aren't 'stern'. So, let's appreciate them.

Let's start with this favourite: Stressed out, sleepy, hallucinating, Lorne. His hair is a bit messy! His jaw's slightly askew! He's not gonna let go of his certainty that his CO is actually a replicator. It's a good look for him, I'm never going to pretend otherwise.

Ahh, this one's just...disappointment. In himself. It's okay, Major, we can't hit our targets 100% of the time. Not even you! Don't worry. There'll be other chances to shoot a dart out of the sky! Like, probably too many chances. Honestly, you'll get blase about it. You'll be all, 'Oh, ho-hum, another dart shot down, that's life in the Pegasus Galaxy, I wonder what they're serving for dinner tonight, I hope it's those noodle things.' Trust me, Major. Things will get better. (Or worse, I guess, depending on how we feel about the whole 'there are so many freaking Wraith to get shot down' reality)

Time for some fun! Look! It's the rare Major Lorne smile of true amusement. He tried to keep it back. Tried to be all professional and serious and whatnot, because clearly, this is a serious situation. But also. It's so fucking funny. And listen, even a serious, stern Major sometimes has to laugh. A lot. In public.

Let's go with more amusement. Laughter is a good look on him. Let's appreciate it, and appreciate that it isn't all stern and focussed out here in the Pegasus Galaxy. Sometimes you get to laugh with friends! In space!

I'm just gonna label this one longing. Sure, sure, we could also say 'Ready to take his cue from his CO', or possibly 'OMG when are we going to get this show on the road?' but those are boring, so longing it is.

Also longing? Or possibly exasperation? Perhaps both?

Haha! Happy! Yay, your CO didn't die from breaking up in a planet's atmosphere! Everyone's a winner today. Including us, because of the grin. Also, the spacesuit. Spacesuit grin. I'm digging it. Nothing says sexy like a bulky orange suit, right? 100%.

For the final pic today, I present you with dubious. Good call, Major! Dubiousness is totally warranted here. Great instincts! You're adjusting to the Pegasus Galaxy really well! Nice eyebrow work, too, it really sells the whole thing.

(screencaps by @carsonsweebabyturtles, @dedkake, and @hero-in-waiting - if I've missed crediting anyone, please let me know and I'll add you)

[stil-lindigo]

hi! i'm currently taking a stab at a short comic for the first time and i was wondering — if you're willing to share — what goes into the “base” of your projects? your creative notes have been a HUGE help in pinpointing things i might want to outline in my own work before i actually start making the project, but i'm still incredibly curious about the initial work and planning that goes into the making of yours. love your art!

hello anon! first of all, congratulations on starting on a comic! I hope you find it very fulfilling, and a great learning experience. To answer this ask, I'm going to use bite of winter as the main example for my work process.

Text: More often than not, I start with the entire textual part of the comic finalised. This is kind of obvious, considering my comics are entirely built around it serving as a sort of narration substitute, but it stays true for comics that are just dialogue as well. Speech bubbles will always take up more space than you think. It's good to have all the dialogue finalised before you start so you can accommodate them in the thumbnailing process. --

Thumbnails: I make thumbnails for all my comics so that I can, at a glance, see if things are cohesive. I'll often spend a lot of time at this stage, since it's also the part where I wrack my brain for smart things I can do compositionally (sometimes I go into comics knowing what sort of smart things I want to do e.g the comparison between the open grave + the empty bed was the entire inspiration behind making shallow grave). Thumbnails are always quick and dirty for me. I know my own brain, so I always just do the bare minimum and know I'll be able to interpret it later. Here are the thumbnails I made for bite of winter.

note: the bright blue border on all the 'pages' is just to indicated where i should try to keep my panels.

it's extremely shitty but it's decipherable to me, and the whole point of thumbnail is that you're hopefully saving yourself time in the future by getting all this planning out now. --

3. Colour: Colour blocks are how I plan out how a comic's colour scheme should look as a cohesive package. Although I didn't used to do this for comics, I do it now ever since I wasted around 8 hours on patchwork canary just fiddling with the colours (ugh). I'll usually go into a project knowing what kind of tone I want to convey with it, which gives me a launchpad for what kind of colour scheme I'd like. For instance, RED, one of my best comics, only uses three colours (black, white and red) and that limited colour palette enhances the message behind it. I think it wouldn't be nearly as impactful if it was all standardly coloured - having that contrast pushes Red's impact as a significant character in the narrative by making her pop on the page.

In a similar vein, almost all of the sunset's emotional complexity gets expressed through its colour palette of red, blue and yellow.

Even though it might be more conventionally coloured with shading and whatnot, the choices behind making certain scenes darker/lighter and etc really sells the story more in my opinion.

These are the colour thumbnails I made for bite of winter. It's incredibly rough, but at a glance you can tell the comic doesn't have any particular page that is jarring or pulls you out of it.

As one more note: I'd advise doing all thumbnailing/colour-blocking at a much smaller size than the actual page is going to be. It keeps you from obsessing over fine details, and encourages you to just block in shapes and colours really quickly.

--

that's all from me for now. I hope this helped, and I wish you luck on your project. Pace yourself! Comics are more work than people ever say they are, and it's good to just take your time and enjoy the process.

[schizoidcel]

Hii! Saw that you’ve opened requests for project moon. What about Sinclair x reader (original universe or mirror) where reader was sure that Sinclair hates them. But Sinclair was just shy + his menacing gaze wasn’t particularly helping. Kinda hurt - comfort. Btw have a good day!

## CINQ!SINCLAIR x READER ★☆

🤍🖤 ﹒ ENGAGEMENT . .

－ notes ̽ ۪⠀i did cinq sinclair since i think he fit lol (for the other anon who reqeusted (yk who u r) ILL GET TO IT I SWEAR m just struggling abit but with the prompt u gave vut bear with me pls♡)

︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : not proofread, MIGHT be abit the tiniest bit ooc

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : your new director lowkey scares the ever living shit out of you :heart:

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

Oh he's terrifying

You were recently promoted to south section 4, and ofcourse you heard the things you dubbed as 'rumours' about the director of the branch.

Now, not only did you think wrong, but you felt like he had something against you

Yes, you talked to him from time to time, and from the way he spoke with you and with others you gathered that he was a timid and nervous man

But it all just changed when he was lecturing people, moreso if he was in an ACTUAL duel

Seeing him in the 'training hall' trying to teach tricks and whatnot to his underlings, but ultimately he either accidently ends up being too hard on them or

Uh

Actually just that .

Frankly you were abit scared to train under him aswell

Sure, he did seem truly kind hearted ..

So why is it that whenever you felt a stare on you, you felt like you were having a fight to the death with the south section 1 fixers

UEAG anyway

Soon enough, it was your time to train with him! Yay!

He had his eye on you (very obviously) and was excited to have a friendly training session with you<3

But you were (also very obviously) scared and reluctant around him, sighing alot

Which made the maneven more nervous 😭😭

He's used to people being frightened while getting trained by him but he genuinely thought he was nice with you so far and that you two had something going

Did he do something wrong. Why are you scared. He dosen't mean to bite he swears

He tries to distract himself from the fact you might REALLY REALLY not like him by straying off course and teaching you random ass association battle tricks everyone should actually be aware of (even though suprisingly you learnt some new stuff)

He can't properly express his emotions, it's a thing he struggles with

After interacting with him you can pick up that he's just a demure young man, one you'll have to be patient with

You'll have to reassure him that he's fine and he'll go back to normal! (as normal as he can got back to)

────────── ♱ ❜ 🖤 . .

"G-good day, [name]! How are you?" The child asked, looking at them with curiosity. "...Well, you know, same old, same old... Ha. Ha. Haha." Some thoughts suicide got into their head for a moment.

However, the child didn't seem to care. Infact, he was ecstatic at the answer he had been given. "That's good to hear..! Uhm, as you're new, I'll make sure to teach you alot." He said with a smile.

Yet again, he wasn't entirely stupid. He could tell that everyone he duelled against had always been in a state of distress, and this time was no different.

What was different was the fact that the child had a newfound determination of trying his best to make sure the same incident dosen't happen again.

He had been wanting to talk to the newly promoted fixer for awhile now. At times, he would think of trying to figure out what to say that would be a good enough excuse to approach them.

He did not find this excuse, and kept staring at them for a long period of time accidently, which in turn inevitably brought upon a wrong idea in the head of his person of interest.

Sure, he was awkward, but he tried, and he found this a good oppurtunity. The child didn't want to give up.

"Alright, so..." He started to raise his voice just a little bit, not wanting to come off as too uncertain. "First, it's important to know the right way to yield the sword, but I'm aware you know that..." He chuckled abit, trying to lighten up the mood. He was in thought for abit, then began speaking once more.

"'Disengagement' is a commonly used tactic, as it is also very effective if executed correctly. I assume you also know of that?" The child questioned and proceeded to draw his sword.

The other child, dubbed [name], nodded their head. "I do." Although, the voice suggested more of a 'I don't actually know, but please let me be.' tone rather than a 'I know, and you don't have to teach me.' tone.

"Well, I would still like to teach you it in a more proper way. As your new director!" A sigh came out of the newly promoted Fixer's mouth, which made the child awkwardly chuckle. "...Uhm..." He thought he might've done something wrong. Not just in the interaction happening right now, but also the several times he attempted to be friendly with his person of interest, who now looked completely done and unnerved infront of him. Yet he couldn't focus on that right now. "Alright, let me demonstrate --"

The childs underling looked abit more stressed after he uttered those words, but they drew their sword aswell regardless.

The child proceeded to instruct his trainee.

It was obvious that both of them were in completely different physical spaces.

"'Pistol Grip', [name]." "Like this?" "N... No. Wait, let me -" "Ouch." "- Sorry!"

What was also kind of obvious was that they were in completely different mental spaces.

'Oh god. I can't keep going on like this... The awkwardness is killing me. I feel like I'm doing something wrong.' 'I wonder if director Quixote is singing in the Caféteria again...'

However, as both the children were distracted on the training field, an accident was sure to arrive soon.

Unfortunately, the director almost completely pierced through the shoulder of the one he trained. "Shit--" "O-oh dear..! [Name], I'm- I'm so sorry! I was..." The child panicked as he dropped his weapon and walked towards his trainee for today with haste, abit uncharacteristically. Thankfully, nobody really paid attention to nor noticed the both of them, due to the hall being so loud. The injured child groaned abit in pain as they clutched their shoulder, which made the directors heart fill up with guilt.

"A-again, I apologize sincerely, [name]. I'm just... Really distracted, I don't know how to explain it." He did, actually. He just really didn't want to because pf embarassment. "Maybe we should cancel the training session, I'll get you some assistance --"

"O-oh, director, don't worry about it." "..?" "It's alright. I know how you feel, actually. So I can understand. Cancelling the session really isn't necessary, It was probably my fault for treating this whole encounter weirdly in the first place... Maybe you in general, too. So I should apologize... Sorry."

The child looked abit taken aback from that statement, but shook his head and let out a relieved chuckle, "It's alright, please don't worry... I'm, uh, glad we resolved this." He smiled, a smile unusually soft and heart felt, especially coming from this one.

"Then, I hope you can come to me abit more in confidence if you need anything, [name]." The child seemed to have been abit more at ease now, which made him manage to speak quite normally.

He wondered if it would be considered weird to ask them to hang out later right in this moment.

"... I change my mind, can we bandage this?" "Ah, but ofcourse..!"

HEARTS FOR UR REQUEST <3 i had fun writing this hes so pathetic lol. i added a scenario cus i didnt rlly know how to do the hcs (ALSO SORRY IF HES OOC? im not the biggest sinnie fan so i mightve messed up oops

on another note .. i wanted to use the narrator for the id uptie stories cus i feel like it'd be neater that way. so i didnt really describe every single emotional change but im sure yall can like figure out where and what

ૢ་༘࿐ thank you for reading ! Ⳋ᧙

[dljcem]

ೃ༄ Sunsetz

ponyboy curtis fluff alphabet

ik this isn’t a request but i couldn’t help myself. template by @/queervibesmydude !

warnings: not beta or proof read

a= admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

ponyboy loves your outlook on life. if you ask about it, he’ll say it’s because it makes you you, separates you from the crowd. he also likes your kindness; he hasn’t exactly met a lot of nice people throughout his lifetime. 

b= body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

his favorite would have to be your hands—he could hold them for the rest of his life and never tire of it.

c= cuddling (do they like to cuddle?)

it honestly depends on his mood. if its a bad day, he’ll want some space for himself. if not? he’s happy to hold you (or let you hold him) to your hearts content.

d= dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

movie date, all the way! he’ll take you to the nightly double, treat you to some food from the concession stand, and let you lay your head on his shoulder as you watch whatever’s playing<3

e= emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

he doesn’t always express his emotions out loud, especially when they’re negative. his body language is what gives him away; he can’t conceal it for the life of him.

f= family (do they want one? if so, when?)

family is a big aspect of his life. he has two biological brothers, and four non-blood related-ones. he knows for a fact he wants to start his own someday; have one or two kids, and a dog for good measure.

as for when, he prefers to wait until you’re both ready to settle down. so, probably a few years after college?

g= gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? what are their habits when it comes to this?)

he doesn’t care much for receiving them; he’d rather you show your affection through words or touch or simply spending time with him.

for the most part, he only gets you gifts on special occasions. your birthday, your anniversary, christmas, and so on. in his eyes, they’re more meaningful when given on certain days.

h= holding hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

he likes to hold your hand gently, trace imaginary shapes onto your knuckles with his thumb and whatnot. he’ll do it whenever he gets the chance to.

i= injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

his first thought—and priority—is to make it better. he’ll bandage you up before you can even ask him to. after that, he might be upset at himself for not being there. he’s tired of being so helpless when the people he cares for get hurt.

j= jokes (do they like to joke around with you or prank you? how?)

he doesn’t joke around much, unless he’s feeling particularly talkative. it’s just not his cup of tea. he does, however, make a lot of teasing/witty remarks—they come easier to him than jokes do.

k= kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

his kisses are as gentle as his hand holding. for the first few months of your relationship, they’re feather light, no more than a quick peck. it’s not until some time passes that he gets more comfortable with it.

l= love (how do they show they love you?)

words of affirmation and quality time. he spends all of his free time with you, even when you don’t have any plans for the day. he’s happy to just do nothing with you. he also compliments you a lot, tells you you look pretty and that you’re all he could’ve ever asked for.

besides that, he enjoys drawing you, if you don’t mind it. he considers you the perfect muse; you’re both pretty and motivating.

m= memory (favorite memory together?)

the first time you watched the sunset with him. it’d been completely unplanned; you just happened to see him sitting his porch on your way home. you joined him, because it was starting to get dark and you didn’t want to be all alone. when you weren’t looking, he stole glances at you—somehow you were even prettier than the orange hues of the sky. he knew he loved you then. he’d always known deep down, but that day he knew for sure.

n= nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

he’s afraid of losing you, as cliché as it sounds. you’re one of the few sources of stability in his life, and he’s not quite sure what he would do without you.

o= oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

he’s prone to spacing out at random times, since he can get lost in his thoughts quite easily. he’ll be reading to you one moment and pondering the meaning of life the next—you end up being responsible for bringing him back to reality more often than you’d like to.

p= pet names (what do they like to call you?)

he uses darling, my love, and babe sometimes. he usually just calls you by your name; there’s something strangely intimate about it.

q= quality time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

he doesn’t care what you’re doing, as long as you’re together. with that said, he especially enjoys hanging out at the dingo and reading with/to you.

r= rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

dream lover by bobby darin. the lyrics remind you of his tendency to daydream, as well as the emotions he harbors towards you. it also just sounds like a song he’d enjoy.

s= secrets (how open are they with you?)

he’s pretty open, albeit sometimes unintentionally. you get him talking like no other and once he starts he can’t stop. there’s certain things he’ll be more adamant about sharing, but he’ll ultimately do it anyway.

t = time (how long did it take you to get together?)

about 5-6 months. he knew he loved you long before then, he just wanted to make sure you reciprocated before acting upon his feelings.

u = upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

if you prefer to be alone when you’re frustrated, he’ll let you be. he might get a little sad that you don’t want him near, but he understands it’s nothing personal. he’ll check up on you once you’ve calmed down, keep his distance until you give him the green flag.

if you like to have someone with you, he won’t abandon your side no matter what. he’ll let you rant about your day and run his hands through your hair, something he deems to be soothing.

v = vaunt (what are they proud of? do they like to show you off?)

he doesn’t see any need to show you off. he’s proud of the relationship you’ve formed together more than he is of anything else, he’s just not that type of person.

w = warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

he doesn’t like to see you hurt, so he doesn’t always like it when you fight. he’s more than willing to fight for you and/or with you. so long as you’re not all roughed up afterwards.

x = x-ray (how well are they able to read you?)

he can tell how you’re feeling pretty quickly; he spends so much time with you he knows what all of your emotions look and sound like.

y = yes (how would they propose to you?)

he would likely do a more quiet proposal, something private with only the two of you. he wants the moment to be yours and yours only—no noisy friends, no overbearing family.

he’d take you to a pretty spot—a grassy field with flowers, or something along those lines—and bring some of your favorite foods for you to enjoy as you admire the view. then, when the nerves get the best of him, he’ll pull out the small velvet box in his pocket and ask the big question.

z = zen (what makes them feel calm?)

quiet moments spent with you. reading together, helping each other with homework, watching the stars at the lot. it’s not often you two get to be alone, so he cherishes the few times you can be.

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Pub Crawl {2}

Oneshot Summary; The handsome stranger isn’t much of a stranger anymore as you get to know him. John Price, is his name, Captain John Price. In fact, the gentleman of a soldier makes you much less calm than what their night out was attempted to be and as the night goes on you realise that maybe the feeling is mutual.

Pairing: John Price x reader

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 2/3

Word; 15k

Warnings; nothing major, implied age-gap

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​

A/N: *Dropping my 15k flirting Price fic and runs*

 MAIN MASTERLIST

Pair. Three of a kind. Full house. They played often, you understood. Cards dealt, a flick of the corner, bets placed.

Johnny seemingly sobered up his ecstatic personality once the games began. No less favouring running his mouth, but less expressive. Eyebrows, for the time being, are set as if carved into stone. A new glint -a competitive one- gleamed like well-polished medals in his eyes. But those sparks also spawned his tell-tale cues.

Ghost had an unfair advantage in your eyes. Those sole expressions previously visible through his eyes swept away as if he put another coverage over his face. An invisible but nonetheless detectable one. But what you evidently lacked in piecing his character together -those blank niches yet to be fleshed out- the other men around the table knew, taking advantage of it as well. Hence, you commenced eyeing the others rather than Ghost to catch his tells.

Kyle kept a constant easy smile in the corner of his lip. His previous persona not having changed much since he brought out the deck of cards. But with contrasts so slight, what you guessed would be signs of... not anxiety, but whatever emotion worked itself through his body in other high-attentive situations wormed itself into his game as well. Attention honed in on the deck, sharp eyes following the card being pulled, flipped and placed amongst the rest. A quick dart of eyes up and down the row. An additional check of his cards.

John... John was good. You noted it quickly. He was expressive but not revealing. A quick pull in the corner of his eyebrow gave you the impression he'd gotten an intriguing set on his hands. With the bet set, no 7am drills for a week, along with the seemingly amused cock of his head when Johnny countered, I'll be washin' for double the time, another card flipped to the community and his action of upping his stake to three weeks, you'd been sure he'd gotten himself a winner. He had won. But not impressively, at least not when he flipped his two cards. A pair of fours, no match amongst the community cards. You'd watched him play closely after that.

Marissa, understandingly more acquainted with their group than you, play against them well. Betting with free drinks and whatnot, occasionally winning thanks to her familiarity with watching them, you suppose. Nor does she react when new names start slipping into the air. Shut it, Soap. Come on, L.T. You can do better than that, Gaz. Nicknames, military ones, they nearly favour using more, you realise. That's why they sound so natural coming from their tongues but never leave Marissa's.

You started suspecting that getting introduced to their real names, apart from Ghost's, was merely first-encounter manners.

It would probably have remained that way if you stayed a stranger.

"Already, Cap'n?" You're brought back from your thoughts as Johnny utters the question, not in the slightest accompanied by the dissatisfaction as a complaint should, but rather the glee of unbelieving bafflement.

Eyes landing on the table, you notice what had caused the Scot's outburst. John had thrown his cards into the discarded pile, signalling he was out. One of the rare occurrences seeing it was only the first round.

But the man at your side only shrugged, and those around the table didn't press too hard on the fact. Bigger chance of them taking home the round when he wasn't in the contest.

However, what you hadn't expected as your eyes continued to follow those still playing, was John shifting closer, clearly showing he redirects his attention to you as he leans on the armrest just beside your own, slouching back somewhat in his seat to not invade your space all too much.

"Ain't too rowdy of a crowd for you, are we?" Your head is pulled towards him first, eyes following a moment after as you watch the second community card be flipped. King of Spades.

Just as your eyes lock, Johnny, with perfect timing, exclaims something triumphantly in incomprehensible Scottish. Your smile brought on by the action is directed towards John, a similar one reflected on his face, along with the tip of his head, expressing a silent 'as I said'.

"Don't underestimate my time spent in companies like these", you reply. The corner of your lip tugs upwards as you lean backwards, the skin over your shoulder blades moulding to the imprint of the backrest until you can feel its slight poke into the bone.

He quirks his brows, head tilting as he dips his head closer. "Do tell?" Curiosity laces John's low-spoken voice, the same interest shining in his blue eyes.

"I-", you start, hesitating to continue. Glancing at the others to see how invested they were in your conversation versus their game. When finding Johnny in an argument with Ghost, and none of the others even batting an eye in your direction to miss their altercation, you turned fully to John, shifting in the seat until feeling the subtle poke of the armrest into your ribcage instead of back. "I've done a few basic military courses through the private sector. Ain't much, but I've done the basic".

"Few basics, eh?" He shifts his foot to lean on the table's leg. The thigh closest to you falls outwards slightly, widening his seated position, accidentally brushing against yours. He moves it away to still have his body directed towards you but not touch it. "Have a feeling there's some advanced there too?"

Your eyes widen, lips parting, a question of how he could've known -because despite being worded as a question, it was a statement- on the tip of your tongue. But before you can ask, John continues, seemingly knowing where your train of thought went.

"In this line of work, you know a fair share about the private as much as the public sector. Those workin’ in private industry are probably familiar faces". You can't help but smile at that. Indeed, your instructors had mentioned their time of enlistment more than once.

Tipping his head, John encourages you to tell him more about what he'd mentioned.

Without hesitating, you did. "Had an instructor who'd worked in intelligence, interrogations more specifically, so I approached him about it. Besides curiosity, I don't know what he saw. But he offered to give me lessons, said he had some connections still in service, contacted them, and some were gracious enough to teach me some things".

"Fuckin' hell", he huffs in surprise, arms crossing over his chest. "Thought I recognised it". It sounded more like he said it to himself, but his eyes never left yours.

"Recognised what?"

"Those eyes, all of you interrogators share them". He leaned closer to you as he said it, one of his hands sneaking from his crossed arms to amusedly gesture towards you, yet the look in his eyes was soft.

"We do not!" You didn't realise you spoke louder. Nor that the round had ended. Therefore, the groups' attention fell on you at your protest.

"What the two of ya talkin' about then?"

Your eyes briefly found Johnny's before skating back to John, who, this time, seemed to be in no hurry at all to answer the Scot. Instead, the amusedly raised brows along the tug in his lips were directed at you as he remained in his position.

Realising he left it all for you to tell them, you sighed. No need to fight it. With the intrigued look reflected in Johnny's eyes, you instinctively knew it wouldn't be possible to brush it off. "Just told John about some training I've done-"

"Come one, love, seemingly ain't no secret if you told me". You sent him a look, annoyed he'd caught how you'd attempted to, not even smoothen over but exclude what kind of training.

You weren't ashamed of it, far from it, in fact. However, you felt yourself shrink into your chair somewhat at the thought of telling the men watching you with intrigued eyes at John's words. They were soldiers. Working, breathing soldiers, for goodness sake. Even if you didn't believe they would laugh in your face when telling them, it felt so... petty compared to whatever they must do, not something that should earn this much attention from them, out of all people.

And yet, it was John's soft nod, one you don't know whether it was even consciously done, that calmed your mind. He hadn't laughed, perhaps in surprise but not to mock you. He'd seemed slightly... impressed.

"Alright", you directed at him, to which he cocked his head, easy smile still slightly hidden by his moustache, then turned towards the rest of the company. "I just mentioned how I've dabbled in the military".

As suspected, they reacted. But not in the way concern had made it play out in your head.

Ever the expressionist, Johnny's lips parted, his complexion drawing together in reflection as if wondering if he'd heard right. At the momentarily distant look entering his eyes, brows knitting together forming harsh lines on his forehead, you assumed he recalled your sentence. But once the Scot realised he didn't imagine the statement, the morph was swift as his complexion settled in astonishment, mouth opening and closing.

Even Ghost revealed more than what you'd gotten used to during the evening, enough for you to paint a picture in your mind of his reaction. It was impossible to catch the whole expression behind his balaclava. Still, despite the blank facade that those hidden features formed for you, the slight widening of his eyes suggested his eyebrows rose and remained pinned higher than their natural place on his browbone intended they should. The tick of his head, just a twitch to the side as his eyes skated over you, assessing, before settling on your features with a narrow, suggesting he verged between not believing and awe of, perhaps, fooling him.

However, Kyle was the sole one whose immediate reaction was to voice his surprise. "Pardon?" His question worked wonders to finally set off the perplexed Scot and make him spit out the words he'd chewed for since you told them.

"Ya mean, what in the steamin' hell did ya just tell us?"

"As unbelievable as me having worked behind the counter?" You offered the wide-eyed man in a chuckle, finding amusement rather than timidness growing in your chest at his actions, to which he jerked his head as if asked the stupidest question.

"More so!"

You exchanged a look with Marissa, who sat relaxed in her chair, knowing very well of this fact. 

It had emerged during one of your late shifts, you'd mentioned it in passing, and she'd physically stopped when she heard it. She'd more or less forced you out on a relaxing night, 'of course, it will include drinks', as she'd probed for every last detail with wide and amazed eyes. Never would've believed that of you, she'd laughed in near disbelief, ‘at least I know you'll be able to hold your own behind the counter’.

Johnny picked up your silent exchange, a look from you conveying that this was as bad as when she'd gotten to know and the slight tip of her head 'sue them' in reply, and turned to her. "Ya knew about this?"

"As much as I know about you lot", she flashed him a grin. "If not more, to be honest, yapped about it for weeks", she snickered.

"Oh shush", you feigned ignorance -sure, you'd talked to her about the further training you'd done in intelligence, but only because she'd asked- yet, the blue eyes of the Scotsman jumped back to you.

"Ain't none of that, bonnie, didn't know ya were one of us!"

"Nor am I". You pointed out, underlining it with a finger directed Johnny's way. "Learned a few things through the private sector, never listed. So I never did the official stuff, simply something attempting to emulate it".

"Why?" Ghost's low voice questioned. His dark eyes steadfastly focused on you. You found yourself opening and closing your mouth. Why indeed? You hadn't known what fucking else to do with your life.

"Was curious about the paths I could take", you shrugged. "Realised it wasn't really for me in the long run, but learned an interesting thing or two".

Ghost let out a breath, not a scoff nor a laugh, just a drawn-out gust of air. "Good choice". His words caused your brows to raise, but you didn't press. If anyone knew what they were talking about it, it would be the men around you.

"So what ya learned then?" Johnny leaned forwards on the table, earning your attention.

"Well, I had a standard boot camp, learning the basics of physical training, firearm and close combat".

"Not bad", Kyle nodded, lips pursed. "Didn't think you would've been thought firearms here though, over in the State's maybe...". He trailed off with a shrug as his brows rose and fell.

"As the Captain said-", you nodded towards John, not catching the way his head turned to you as he straightened in his seat somewhat while the others raised their eyebrows or cocked their heads. "-most, if not every instructor, was past military members. So special licenses for firearm exercise wasn't too difficult to get, I suppose".

There was a slight pause as they watched you until Ghost spoke up. "How strict were they?"

"If you mean wheater I had to withstand them screaming at me with no care for personal space and calling them by rank or else, I'll run till my face was in the mud, then strict is the answer to both".

"Explains it", John mumbled under his breath. You spared him a glance, and he tipped his head as he unwinded his arms, letting each rest on their corresponding armrest. His fingers tapped the wood, and when it was apparent that you didn't understand his comment, he offered you a gentle smile as he explained. "Not usual for civilians to call us by rank".

"Oh", god, you felt stupid. "Sorry, sometimes it just happens, I guess". You cringed, frowning, disturbed by having fallen into old habits while delving into the subject. And yet, it hadn't felt unnatural calling John by his rank. It fit him. "Even though I don't meet many army affiliates anymore".

Compared to the first time his rank had fallen from your lips, he didn't regard you with that veiled expression. This time, it was something else, mirth intertwined in the lighter specks of blue in his eyes, whereas something... darker infected the aegean shadowing of his hues.

You don't know whether John got reminded of what branch you'd explored as your eyes remained locked with his, attempting to decipher whatever you couldn't in his gaze. But, as if remembering you hadn't indulged the rest with the fact, he spoke. "You haven't told them about the most interestin’ part".  

This time you didn't fight him on indulging the rest. Instead, you turned back to face the rest. "Right, I specialised in intelligence at the end as well".

"Ha, yer the same as the big guy!" Johnny turned to Ghost before his eyes shifted back to you. "Ain't no way I would've guessed that one".

"Infiltration, Johnny, not intelligence", the man corrected him. "I use what they give me". Ghost nodded towards you. You didn't feel like correcting him, more so you knew you didn't need to.

"I 'now ya prick", the Scotsman scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "But ya bloody work with information collection as well, if I'm not wron', standin' there as a feckin' reaper durin' inquests".

You chuckled. "Can't say I got that advantage". Those dark eyes shifted to you, and Ghost didn't need to say anything for you to understand what he thought, the entertained expression in his eyes stating a firm but amused ‘no, you don't’.

"Well, let's see how much you learned, then", Kyle smiled, expertly shuffling the cards before he started dealing them, a card landing before you even before you'd managed to answer the question. "Ain't no backing out now", he smirked, continuing to deal out the cards to everyone around the table.

...

You played well, though you thought it was more so because of you being used to the game than being able to read them. Your collection of their tells during the initial rounds helped, yet it wasn't the sole reason you managed to beat them. Luck played a big part. But that, you wouldn't tell, not when noticing the rile you got on one person in the group.

"Come on then, Johnny, what's your move". You hummed, leaning forwards so your elbows and crossed forearms rest on the table, observing the Scot across from you. His eyes intensely honed in on the fourth community card that just had been pulled.

When his eyes switched to watch you, you promptly saw it. Not the card he'd hoped for. Cocking a brow, you offered him a smile.

"Feck", Johnny grumbled. Sore looser. He grabbed his cards and threw them into the discarded pile, mindful not to let them accidentally flip. "I fold". Joining Marissa and Kyle.

Your eyes flickered to Ghost, awaiting his action. Without delay, he delivered it. "Call".

"Call", John's voice sounded in succession, your own falling suit, causing Marissa to flip the fifth and final community card.

Ten of hearts.

Not a bad card, but since the initial two community cards had been revealed, you'd been set for this round. You rapped your finger against your elbow. Compared to Ghost, who thumbed the edge of his card, you recited your hand in your head. Aces, red and black, heart and spade.

Your eyes were set on the tall man, observing the glimpse down at his cards, the move a quick flick of his eyes before his index and middle fingertips pressed the edges flat against the table as his gaze rose.

Ghost's auburn eyes locked with yours, dead straight, staring back. He'd felt your attention on him, no doubt, yet you didn't retaliate once you had his in return. Instead, you cocked your head just the right amount to not let it rest against your shoulder, practised smile stretching your lips.

"It's your turn, Ghost, in case you forgot". You know he hadn't. But, you also knew that he weighed his options at the moment, cost and benefit, what play was synonymous with what. Ghost's considerations depended on you, what your game was, deceit or honesty. And he knew, much like John had pointed out, how you, those interrogators, worked; it was never either or but a balance of both. The question is what direction the scale tipped towards the most.

"You're good", was all he said, throwing his cards into the growing pile of discarded cards, signalling his fold. Your smile could've grown, showing your satisfaction in how your mask had been better than the faceless man's. But, instead, you kept the same expression as you turned to glance over your shoulder, elbows still planted on the tabletop.

"John?" His attention was already on you. No need to call for it. And yet, you like to see him work, strip your utterance of his name and the redirect of attention on him bare. Attempting to spread the layers until he could read between the lines, much like Ghost. 

Unlike his working comrade, however, he doesn't move. Instead, he remains lounging, two fingers resting on the table edge, his left hand on his thigh. And yet, when John doesn't shy from your eyes, you find the opposite of his stoicism.

His eyes seem alive, an entity on their own apart from his being. And yet, you can't discern the story they're showing you.

"Call. Your move". It's like a breeze over your back, like a phantom finger trailing your spine. You pray the shiver doesn't leave goosebumps in its wake.

You take a moment, a last one, to observe him and what dances in those eyes.

Around the blackened void charrs a blue flame seemingly devouring the air, sucking it from deep in your lungs. It doesn't leave you breathless, but it damn well delays your contemplated words, your final play. Instead of rolling from your tongue, they get stuck on repeat in your mind, a manuscript yet to be followed but halted at the knot forming in your larynx.

"Call". The word isn't clipped nor abrupt. Yet, at the perimeters of your spoken choice of play are frayed edges, the consequences of those fires dancing over your features, those you decided not to avoid despite their blaze.

John flashes a smile, probably satisfied with your choice of not folding and letting the game reach its rightful end. "Show me 'em cards".

You do as told, nails catching the edge of your cards and, with a flick of your wrist and right arm settling on the armrest, you open up your upper body by turning it towards him, confident in your four-of-a-kind. Aces, nonetheless.

When those blues flicker down, inspecting your hand placed face-up on the table and having earned several impressed hums and whistles, you dare cock your brows in conviction. Beckoning John to mimic your move and show his lesser hand. However, you witness a swift, minimal quirk of his eyebrows. And, when his eyes seek yours, features morphing to copy your facial expression, you know.

You don't need to look at his cards when he leans forward to flip them, just shy of propping his arms and upper-body weight on the table in contrast to the actual move of a forward shift in his seat. Regardless of the amused flash in his eyes, the quirk in the corner of his lips telling you he’d won, you follow the curses uttered by those around the table as their eyes find the hand his cards, paired with the community ones, created.

A flush, hearts, one that would've been royal if the ace wasn't in your possession.

"Next time, love". John pats your clothed knee as his hand slips down the table top while leaning back again.

"Battle of wits, indeed".

"I'll go prepare the drinks then".

Johnny's voice, subsequently Marissa's, is distant. Your eyes are stuck on the cards flashing red and white, but you don't mourn your loss, all attention on the warmth that seeps through your skirt at his touch.

John's hand momentarily settles at the last tap before he retracts it and drops it on his thigh once more, his fingers tapping a joyful celebration against the muscle.

And yet, the phantom touch, the memory of his heavy and warm paw engulfing your kneecap without needing to try, remains. It unfurls an ecstatic quiver in your chest.

"I'll go see if Marissa needs help". You flash a quick smile, trying not to rush like your heart does in your chest when moving out of your chair.

As soon as your back is turned to the group, feet moving you forward on their own command, you momentarily close your eyes, taking a deep breath. This feeling wasn't new. But hell, it had been long enough since you felt it that you hadn't noticed it since the start. The way your gaze wanted to travel to John. How he kept your attention and his presence in your immediacy never felt odd despite meeting him less than an hour ago. Fucking hell, women, calm yourself...

Your eyelids fluttered open, gaze settling on Marissa a few paces ahead. The breath you held -which hadn't done much to lessen your rapid heartbeat- was released in a last attempt to shake off, or at least tame, the feeling John had awoken. Without success.

As though your eyes now glued to her back worked as a call of her name, your friend's brown eyes flickered over her shoulder with the slight turn of her head. Perhaps she'd thought it was a particular Scot rather than you because her brows raised. Nonetheless, she let you catch up with her as she slowed a fraction.

"Don't", you warn Marissa when her lips part, possibly to ask about why you were here and not at the table. Knowing very well you could always pay later in the evening for the drinks you'd bet and lost.

At your clipped word, she instantly smirked. Yet, she didn't say anything, at least not until you'd put some distance to the men still seated at the table as you rounded the bar. You know something's coming when she leans on it, cocking her hip and not reaching for anything needed for the drinks instantly.

"So, how are you finding them?" The questions seem innocent enough that you can't help but smile and chuckle. A minimal shake of your head accompanied the released breath of nerves mimicking the feeling of jumper cables hooked to a car, a stream of high voltage sent straight through your nervous system.

"Pleasent, quite the characters but nonetheless pleasant". Marissa hums in agreement at your answer.

"Despite their habit of arriving at times when not many others are here, they're hard not to notice". You quirk a brow as she moves to bring a liquor bottle from the wall. Standing still when part of her still was in working mode was never her strong suit.

"Don't think you complain, though", you mused. The nerves in your body slowly reduced at the lack of John's immediate presence and attention on you. Marissa's eyes find yours over her shoulder, and you cock your head, attempting to smoothen down your amused smile as you continue. "Starting to believe Johnny ain't the headache you'd made him out to be".

"Oh, a headache he is", she retorted. But, your grin turned victorious as she turned away again, not succeeding in hiding her smile before it was visible to you nor continuing her sentence before you pointed it out.

"I saw that". With your muted laugh, a finger was waved in Marissa's general direction.

"Pushing it in my face, ain't you?" She faced you as you stepped closer to help her carry some of the bottles needed for the Scot's mixture, a quirk between her brows present. You sent her a mocking kiss, one she rolled her eyes at, yet couldn't help the tug in the corner of her mouth at your antics as she turned with the bottle she'd fetched.

Following suit, you brought the ones you'd grabbed before joining her at the metal countertop, where she'd put forth a glass for Johnny's drink.

At the thought of his name, you glanced towards the company at the table. 

The deck of cards was put away, and they sat talking, laughing. Instinctively your eyes sought John, you couldn't hear his sound of amusement, but you could see it. Whatever Kyle had said made him shake his head before tipping it forward, his shoulders jumping. Something warmed in you at the scene, a softer glowing sensation, different from when he'd sat so close to you.

"You and a certain someone seem to get along, though".

"Hm?" Your eyes travelled from John back to Marissa, whose eyes had made the same journey as yours, though her's seemingly only had been a quick shift back and forth. Nonetheless, one with enough time for an inquisitory look to bleed into them. "Uh yeah, I guess he's nice", you shrugged, attempting to bat away the feelings returning in your chest at the swift glance and redirection of the conversation towards John.

Marissa, however, only rolled her eyes. "Oh, for the love of- missy, that's not what I meant", she said, grabbing the tequila bottle and pointing the muzzle at you before beginning to pour the amounts needed for the drink. "I see the way you both don't and do look at him, don't believe that boy you met got even half as much of your attention when he practically was begging for it while dear John simply has to be present".

"Marissa-".

"Oh no, don't deny it". Your friend put down the bottle, grabbing the first mixture you'd brought with you. "I know a bloody skittish escape when I see one, probably threw my name in as an excuse as well", she referred to when you'd left their company previously and joined her instead.

You jerked a hand upwards, mindful to not make the action too big for the men to catch. "Yeah, because when you'd left me alone with them previously, it's gone just wonderful". Despite being nothing more than a memory now -initial awkward instances of getting to know new people brushed to the past- you couldn't deny as soon as Marissa left your hypothetical side, things hadn't... not gone awful, but not as good as you could've hoped.

"You're getting along just fine with them. It's a certain someone you seemingly worry being around by yourself".

"Stop waffling", you huffed at the last part of her sentence.

"What? You seem to get along more than fine with John, you two in your little bubble".

"We don't have no bubble", you scoffed. "And he certainly doesn't feel like I bloody do".

"And what is that?"

"Fine, I'll admit, he looks good".

She doesn't stop blending the drink more than to throw you a quick glance, a smirk adorning her lips. "Oh, I know your taste in men, and so, I know he looks more than just good". You quickly move your elbow, jabbing her in the side. Sadly, the action only brought a huffed chuckle from her as she managed to not spill a drop of liquid. Lucky she'd put down the bottle and reached for the next. "But that's not what I wanted to know".

"Jesus, okay, what do you want me to say so you'll focus on pouring the drink?" You feel jittery at the subject, so in an attempt to occupy your fingers rapping against the not-so-cold anymore metal counter beneath your hand, you move to fetch a pint glass to start pouring Kyle's beer.

"That you admit you don't only think he's nice on the eye, but you're attracted to him". You swallow, your throat dry.

"I-I... yeah". The confession isn't grand, nor does it come with a feeling of lessening the sensation in your chest. "Is that what you wanted to hear?" You mumbled under your breath, eyes flickering towards Marissa. She's put down the bottle she previously kept elevated, both hands now resting on the counter, head turned towards you, eyes fixated on how you rotate the glass in your hand before flickering up to meet your gaze.

"I never think I've seen you this flustered about someone, missy", she comments. "What about the man got you acting like this?"

"Fuck, how would I know?" You can't help the laugh of disbelief. Marissa was right. You didn't usually act like this. Like you'd said to Johnny, working behind a bar had steeled your nerves from copious things, especially when befriending the dark-haired woman standing beside you on top of it. "I don't know how to even begin describing it", you sighed, frustration polluting the exhale.

A pinch of her brows, brief as though not meant to move her eyebrows before she cocked her head. "Try".

Concerning you'd given up on trying to evade the topic at this point, you did as she said without much fuss. "I just kinda... it feels like I'm drawn to him. It doesn't feel like anything special in that regard, but it ain't just a normal feeling, you know?"

"You're overthinking it". Marissa turned her body to you, hip against the counter, arms crossed. "Yes, you're a problem solver. You like to analyse things. Ain't for nothing you find a bloody military course in interrogation fascinating, barely any mans that do. But that puts you at risk of overanalysing, which you're doing right now. This-" she motioned to you and with a nod that passed over anyone's head aside yours that caught her eyes travelling to who you only guessed could be John. "-isn't something that needs to be solved. So go with it, see where it ends up".

"I hate when you offer solid advice, you know?"

"You mean when I've solved the problem before you know how to solve it yourself". Your eyes drop, finding your barely visible reflection in the beer glass, huffing at Marissa's reply.

"Yeah, especially fucking then".

"That's what friends are for", she hummed, and you heard her finish the drink she'd spent remarkably more time on than necessary. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"About what?" Your head tilted in her direction.

"About the glass you've been holding like a fool for the past minutes", she deadpanned. Although knowing she wasn't serious, you stopped fiddling with it, instead stepping towards the drafting station. "About Price, of course".

"For all I know, he can just behave like a gentleman compared to most". She rolled her eyes at that.

"Can't believe you're sticking with believing that. He's more than a decent man, I agree, but so is the rest of the lot, and they ain't acting the way he does".

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"He's bloody interested in you, probably feels the same attraction you do".

Your head turned to her, eyes wide as if it would emphasise your slow-spoken words. "He doesn't".

"For someone as bright as you, it certainly is fucking unbelievable how blind you can be", she muttered, causing your bows to furrow.

"What now?"

"I've seen the little bubble the two of you enter when you talk, the guys probably have noticed too, though Johnny is the one whose mentioned it", she hummed. "Pointed it out whilst the two of you chatted during the game, even referring to some conversation of yours' from before that". She sent you a look, continuing by poorly mimicking the Scot's voice. "Never seen Price like that. He's so... easy with her, sure as shiet ain't as close-lipped as Ghost, but he doesn't partake leisurely in and especially doesn't initiate conversations with someone new. Normally likes to keep to himself. Starting to believe the old fecker got heart-eyes".

You hoped how you accidentally set down the glass you had just been about to raise a bit too harshly was enough cover for the shrill-sounding noise escaping your throat. 

You don't look at Marissa instantly. Instead, you keep your head bowed slightly, wide eyes staring at the wet remnants of froth from previously poured drinks in the drain beneath the draft. Attempting to steady your heart that had made an unhealthy leap at the words allegedly expressed by Johnny and passed on by your friend.

Loosening the grip on the pint glass, you force down your shoulders as you raise it and your free hand to the lever, slowly tapping the beer.

You send her a quick glance at the instance you do. "Keep your voice down".

"It's already low", she smirks at you.

"Well, then keep quiet altogether".

"Why for?" The smugness in her voice made your molars grind together, eyes flitting to the steady flow before you.

"To not attract attention from the ridiculously handsome man sitting not far away", you noted how she shifted in your peripheral.

"You mean the ridiculously handsome man who hasn't been able to stop throwing looks towards you for the past, like, five minutes? Yeah, you don't need me for that attention".

Don't look. And yet, you couldn't help how your eyes, as if drawn to John like magnets, sought him out. And, of course, your gazes lock the second you find him.

Although half a room away, his gaze felt heavy. The spotlights in the roof made light dance across his features, causing parts of his hair and beard to verge on golden bronze while others dimmed into a brown saber. Handsome, incredibly so, in an old-fashioned sense.

You didn't notice how your tongue peaked out to wet your lips, the act as unconscious as the reason for it, yet you became aware of it when John's eyes dropped from yours. You couldn't physically see where his eyes fell nor feel them in whatever place he looked. Not as when you could feel how your gazes lock despite the distance separating you. But, it made your thoughts rewind, bringing forth what you'd done to the front of your cognisance.

A flush spread through your body, and you didn't wait for his eyes to find yours before dropping your gaze. 

Despite redirecting your attention to the glass in your hand and setting down a satisfyingly filled pint, in the upper corner of your vision, you noted how a conversation immediately swept over the table. Whoever initiated the exchange earned John's attention as you felt his eyes leave you altogether.

"You're a menace, you know", you mumbled beneath your breath as you glanced at Marissa, knowing you would regret it the moment you did but unable to anyway. Flashed a grin, one as victorious as yours during the initial phase of your conversation, you were proven right. "Glad I quit this job", you huffed, setting down the beer you'd drafted beside the drink she'd mixed for Johnny.

"Don't say things like that", she returned, her attention flickering away from you. "Especially not when it seems you're gonna have to battle your fears and put those skills I taught you to use, someone apparently having spoken some sense into the old man". The last part of her sentence was mumbled under her breath, yet you caught it, brows knitting together. "He's coming this way", she clarified once her eyes landed on you. This time, you didn't give her the thought of doubt.

"Don't you leave", you warned, but she'd already stepped out of your reach, sending a wink as she brought the guy's pick of poison with her, one in each hand. "Traitor", your hiss was barely audible under your breath, instinctively silenced as you had no choice but to turn towards John as Marissa left the two of you to your own with a nod in his direction, one he answered with a slight smile.

You follow John as he steps up to the barstool, registering the height you'd suspected kept his broad frame -one that narrowed nearer to his hips- upright as he moved with a slight sway to his body from his strides. You realised that he carries himself with tactical ease, one he must have learnt to get comfortable with on the field so much that it stuck to every other situation.

As he settled atop the stool, finding a comfortable position with a slight lean forward of his body whilst his arm rested atop the wooden countertop, your eyes stopped jumping over him to settle on his face.

"So, what can I get for you, patron?" You put on a charade, brushing up precisely those skills Marissa had taught you. Still, you're unable to stare into those pretty blues that this close shine like the curaçao bottle at the second level of the liquid shelf for too long, fearing your tongue would turn to lead and your heart pound out of your chest.

And yet, you can't help how those butterflies in your stomach taste freedom, yearning, to have him within your close vicinity once more. So, to cage them, you lean forwards to mimic his way of resting his forearms atop the wooden desk separating you. A heavier bend in your waist concerning the metal bar pressed into your hips.

"Drivin’, remember?" He returned, but you found yourself shrugging rather than taken aback and stunted at what to say next. Seemingly easier than you'd thought to fall back into old times when standing on this side of the counter.

"You're sitting at a bar if you remember", you shot back. John's lip twitched upwards. With the subtle action, you felt encouraged enough to continue a conversation you'd had many times but not with someone you cared to maintain the chatter with. "What's your usual under non-driving circumstances?"

"Old-fashioned".

The irony. You hummed, in both amusement from your thought and John's answer, continuing with a nod. "Scotch?"

"Yes". Something sparked in John's eyes as you turned, still partly facing him whilst also able to look at the liquor wall. While one arm stays on the wooden counter, the other accommodates your new stance by being propped against your waist.

Letting your eyes glide over the assortment, they finally settle on one of the finer bottles. "Ardbeg, 19-year-old, something of your taste?" His eyebrows raise in what you could gauge was surprise, to which you only flashed him a smile. "Had a feeling concerning the chasews".

"You're good". John's praise of your knowledge about the correlation between his earlier choice of heavily roasted nuts to the smokey scotch you'd asked him about softened your prideful smile, shifting to bashful rather than the obligatory ones you'd offered in the past to brush away the compliment.

"Have to be when working behind a bar". Your head rolled to rest on your shoulder when you switched to look at him, thanking him for the compliment with the smile he'd brought forth but raised an inquisitory brow shortly after. "So?"

He looked at you for a second before he hummed. "Those bottles often get opened after certain missions, but yes".

You gave him a final nod before pushing away from the counter, gathering the sparse ingredients you needed to piece together the drink you had in mind. Feeling his eyes on you for every step you took.

As you returned to where he sat, your gaze met John's. But, the eye contact was brief, this time his gaze flickering away. Even though it was down to the bottle you held out for inspection, together with an explanation of what would replace the alcoholic liquor of his drink.

"A distillery toying with the idea of percentage-free liquor inspired by scotch, dare to try?" His eyes scanned the label plastered on the bottle in your hands before his eyes found yours, slight creases entering the corner of his eyes, smile prominent on his features despite a lack of bow by his lips.

"Why not", he shrugged. Flashing him a delighted smile, you put down the bottle and began making the drink before him.

You felt his eyes on you -attention that faded to no longer inducing a nervous excitement, instead an avid one, seeking to keep it on you as you busied yourself with something you were skilled on- as you picked up a rocks glass.

Not needing the measurement cup to know how much amaretto versus visionary scotch to fill it with, you grabbed the mixing liquor, free-pouring to the desired amount before switching to the virgin scotch and doing the same.

Considering the simplicity of the beverage -the sparse ingredients coupled with only a square ice cube and a swirled orange peel to be added- there wasn't really any need to taste it. But old habits die hard, and before you even noted your move whilst reaching for the ice, you swirled the liquids around with a straw, tasting it with practised ease as you retracted it. Of course, the absence of smokey scotch and its burn could never be neglected, but it was a good drink nonetheless.

"There, a non-alcoholic Godfather". You put the now-finished drink before him with your free hand as you threw the straw in the trash.

John tipped his head in gratitude, eyes falling on the drink presented to him. It was your moment to observe him as his fingers gripped the chilled glass, swirling the drink -something you imagined was out of custom- before he raised it.

As his lips meet the rim, his eyes seek yours. Despite presenting an opportunity -without limitation- to observe his opinion of the drink he sipped, something seeped into those blues that already was your weakness. You couldn't figure out what it was, but it felt intimate, a bubble -to use Marissa's words- closing around the two of you. Those nerves slowly began to buzz again when you didn't have anything to occupy yourself with.

A hum preceded his opinion as he lowered the drink. "It's good". He tipped the glass back and forth before leaning slightly forward, pointer gesturing towards you to the extent it could regarding his grip on the glass. "Better than Marissa's".

"Oh, be careful of saying that beneath her roof". You hid the warmth in your body at John's low-spoken compliment, a rough whisper, with the tease. "She won't accept that the student has become the master".

He chuckles at your banter. "I'll keep it our secret, then".

The smile forming by his comment is instantaneous, a soft stretch of your lips as his words registers. Despite the previous teasing smirk accompanying John's comment, it dissolves into one mirroring your own behind the rim of his glass once more raised closer to his mouth. You can't help but duck your head, the same intensity in his gaze bleeding into your chest.

This man, the thought is followed by a slight shake of your head. You look up through your lashes, not brave enough to reveal your attention, in spite of wanting to or not, tracks back to him by fully tilting your head and facing him. You catch John's eyes flitter over you before he notes your gaze has returned to him, causing his blues to connect with yours.

His head tilts as he lowers his glass, dwarfing it between his hands once it sits on the counter. The quirk in both his brow and the corner of his lips shifts the tension in the air to something airy and lighter. And, like linked to him, your lip quirks.

You sway on the pads of your feet, forwards until your weight is placed on your toes, heels lift from the floor, and then back to reverse the action. The itch in your body makes a restlessness nest, the feeling of standing in the same place for too long joining the sensation John's attention settles in your body. And finally, it makes you break away from his presence, grabbing the bottles and returning to the shelf to place them in their proper place.

A sound akin to the roll of a glass' bottom rim against wood fills the air behind your back, whilst the slight ting of glass-connecting-with-metal sounds in front of you as you set down the bottles you'd brought.

To use Johnny's words, at least allegedly concerning the information originated from Marissa, your conversation with John had been easy. But so most were, even when you'd sat amongst the others. However, this time, something about the silent interaction afterwards felt different.

You don't know what about it settled those butterflies in your stomach, their cage dissolving along their colourful selves, metamorphosed into an intangible pleasantness as you felt his eyes on you.

Perhaps it could be that you didn't worry about paying too much attention to the weather-worn Captain now when it solely was the two of you compared to then when the rest of the company you got introduced to sat around the same table, just an arm-length away. Nonetheless, the previous nervousness accompanying John's presence, his attention on you, now felt comfortable, as if it belonged, and you didn't want it any other way.

That was when he didn't aim to give you a bloody heart attack.

"So, how did a girl like you end up behind a bar like this?" You thanked the heavens that your back was turned and that you just had placed the bottles back on their corresponding shelves once those smooth words left him. Because you wouldn't have been able to stop your brows from shooting up and lips from parting as your stomach lurched upwards once you dropped down from standing on your toes. Well, that wasn't hard to interpret.

"Was that a pick-up line I heard?" You turned, brows now quirked in intrigue as your lips pressed together to smoothen down a grin at the giddiness flowing through your body after the initial surprise.

John tipped his head side to side, eyes flittering down to watch the liquid in his glass before clearing his throat and giving you a shrug. "An attempt at one".

You giggled, the sound foreign to your ears in this setting, yet it brought his eyes back to you as his shoulders dropped somewhat.

"Not the worst one I've gotten", you said, not an unwelcomed one either. You shift your weight onto one leg while crossing one ankle over the other. It naturally makes your body fall against the counter at your lower back, and you bring your hands to rest on the edge for additional support.

"No?" A quick tick of his head along a swift rise and fall of his brows accompanies the question.

You hum, shaking your head. "You wouldn't believe half the stuff we hear behind this desk".

He did something you hadn't anticipated then. John patted the stool beside him as he straightened and leant back a notch. "Let's swap some war stories then because I can think of a few things from only what we soldiers endure".

Go with it. See where it ends up. Marissa's words rang clear in your head and made your legs guide you to reach the offered seat.

As you sit down, John angles his chest towards you, letting his hand bring his glass more to his right rather than straight as when you'd stood on the other side of the bar. It only remains there for a few seconds, though, seeing how he raised it and tipped it towards you as he spoke.

"So, love, tell me how you came to tolerate every man on the spectrum of inebriated".

A chuckle leaves you, hands coming to clutch your elbows already resting on the bar top, head tilting towards John. "Without pulling forth my whole record for scrutinisation-". The man beside you huffed lightly, to which you flashed a swift smile before continuing. "-I can tell you it took some time getting used to and knowing how to respond to men when their tongues get too loose for anyone's good".

"Though I don't dispute the fact-".

"Talking from experience, John?" You cut his sentence off, a ribbing smile accompanying your tease.

His glass stilled where he'd spun it in the air, snicker -something more delicate than his other sounds of amusement- escaping John as his head dipped in a shake. "Can't escape the fact that everyone's been young". His blue eyes find yours again, mirth swirling in them, originating from perhaps a not-so-fond but nonetheless prevailing memory. "Though life's had its way with me like most others".

"Can tell you it's been kind on you. Ain't everyone who turns into a gentleman compared to daft wankers".

John stilled, lips pressing thin as his brows pulled together. 

The expression was new on him, causing you to cock your head, awaiting what seemed to be a response when he rolled his shoulders and straightened. Yet the reply on his tongue was seemingly quelled when he decided to sip his drink. His reaction felt... odd. But you didn't get to ask if he could indulge you in what fleetingly occupied his mind as he picked up the conversation again, seemingly preferring to talk about something else.

"So how come the break-in-time, 'cause you don't look like a newbie?" You caught on quickly that John backtracked to where his previous sentence probably would've ventured if you hadn't interrupted him.

"Had never worked in this kind of setting previously".

His brows quirked. "No? You look like a natural".

"That I have to thank Marissa for, didn't know a thing before moving here and getting the job".

"Ain't from around?"

"Mm, no, neither born nor bred".

"Why did you choose to settle in these ends?"

"Honest?" You straightened your arms, clasping your hands together. "Don't really know, just felt I needed to get a move on, didn't feel like I fit the picture at 'home' anymore, ended up staying longer than I thought". You gave a half-hearted chuckle, eyes locked on your thumbs. Right on top, switch, left on top.

"Care to explain?" You turned to look at John. He'd turned more towards you, his head tilted.

"Not much to explain, frankly. It felt like a search for something, but I don't know what", you shrugged one shoulder.

"Know the feelin', still grapple with it occasionally". Your head cocked, a silent expression of surprise at someone who felt so calm and naturally secure in himself that you hadn't imagined much else applying to other aspects of his life.

You pushed slightly against the bar, swivel chair turning more of your body towards him to physically show the same interest in his words that he'd done yours, and it urged him to continue.

"Our line of work attracts people without sense of direction in life like flies. Couldn't tell how much better judgement I have to knock into some of 'em recruits daily".

"Would've been one of them", you quipped, recalling how his words aligned with your reason for dipping a toe in their element without the compulsory enlistment. John shot you a look, the sharpness of a chide not as present as entertainment.

"But you didn't need it to realise you were meant for somethin' better". John's continuation was swift enough the meaning buried beneath his sentence was swept over in seconds. But, regardless, you caught it. "Despite my years in the field, doubt still trickles through, wondering if any of the sense you enlisted along with still exist".

"Don't think the one promoting you to Captain did it for your lack of sense". Your reply was soft-spoken, genuine, despite the opportunity for jest. And you knew John heard it, saw it when his eyes flickered over your face, a smile reaching his eyes and highlighting the crow's feet in the corners of them. That alluring depth entered his eyes, and something unravelled in your chest, equally as profound and warm.

As though hovering too close to an edge you weren't ready to jump from, one corner of your lip ticked upwards, a small gesture but enough to shift the energy in the air. "Trust me, you could say I'm a good judge of character".

"Are you know?" John mused, raising both brows in a mocking gesture.

"Oh, piss off", you chuckled, the back of your hand lightly swatting his upper arm. 

His smile turned into a grin, not as chaotic and thrilled-puppy as Johnny, more a gradual glow lightening all his features. It was something soothingly warm about the look on him despite the harsh contrast when sparkling eyes peeked from dark lashes and pearly teeth flashed amidst the umber bristles obscuring his lower face.

"If you wanna prove your skill, read 'em". John motions backwards with a nod of his head. For the first time since Marissa left you and the Captain alone, your eyes travel over your shoulder to the company still seated at the table.

Johnny was turned towards Marissa, one arm hooked on the back of her chair, talking animatedly with his other hand. Your friend sat with crossed arms but equally shifted towards the Scot to give him the same attention. By the looks of it, they argued about something. Albeit heatedly, you noted the grin pinning Johnny's lip upwards, and even if mostly seeing your friend's back, you caught how she slouched backwards in her chair, shoulders not pulled high towards her ears.

Though not surprised by the two, what did catch you off-guard was Ghost. Or more so, his smirk. You don't know when it had happened, not more than after you'd left the table, but the baklava was rolled up enough that his neck along lower face was visible, showcasing the stretch of his lips.

It hadn't hit you that Ghost's drink had remained untouched since he took it from the tray. Not until you saw him raise the glass and sip what must've been a drink Marissa know to exclude ice from or else it would taste like watered-down tea.

Before he caught you looking -because there must be a reason he'd decided to show just the slightest part of himself despite wearing a mask in public- you turned to face John again.

"I was taught interrogation techniques, not mind reading", you joked, attempting to deflect what he wanted you to do, but you only received a look from him.

"Can't trust you if you don't show what you go for". John leaned closer as he kept your gaze. "So go on then". For a second time, he jerked his head towards the others.

"Fine". You caught the upward tick of John's lip and intrigued quirk of his brows before you turned in the chair, back resting against the wooden counter.

Despite your attention now being fixed on the ones at the table, you noted how John mimicked your motion to swivel the chair and face the company the two of you previously accompanied.

At first, your gaze merely flickered over them in turn. Johnny. Ghost. Kyle. 

The most challenging task is always reading without intent. Your former instructors' voice echoes in your mind as you grapple with where to start.

"What's my goal?" You looked at John, awaiting his guidance. He rolled his head towards you, blue eyes meeting yours.

"Whatever you can get".

"So descriptive". You rolled your eyes and earned a chuckle. But you did as he said, attempting to present how far you'd gotten on the puzzle their personalities posed as since you first entered.

"Ghost", you declared to steer John's attention to who your intention was set on.

"Starting with the toughest", he mumbled.

You disregarded his comment, knowing that although it was true personality-wise, you had more solid facts about him than the others.

"Johnny has called him L.T., presumably a Lieutenant then", you began. Then, with your gaze flitting over his stature, you observed the man as he engaged, or more so listened, to the conversation Kyle maintained. "A man of few but well-chosen words, rough around the edges, has a sharp tongue, expressive eyes, though I doubt that makes him cover his face." In your peripheral, you noted John tilting his head towards you, making you tear your eyes from Ghost.

"How so?"

You gave him a half-shouldered shrug, meeting those blues. "You boys see shit that no one should, that we civilians agree on despite not knowing what that shit is all the time. So it wouldn't be weird if you wanted to separate yourself from it. For some, it could be on the field. Others, of it." Your eyes trailed back to the tall man, yet to add anything to his conversation aside from an occasional nod. "Though I don't know his reason, I would call it a coping mechanism. One that's hard turning off entirely, and he probably views as an equally big part of himself as whoever is beneath the mask." 

You glanced at John, whose eyes were still set upon Ghost, but he gave an almost absentminded nod. The confirming hum accompanying the action made you think you hit the mark to a certain degree.

"Kyle?" John directed you to Ghost's conversation partner, and your eyes were set forward again, a slight furrow entering the space between your brows as they narrowed.

"Nickname Gaz", you declared the information you'd retrieved from the rounds of poker. "Not as reserved as Ghost, but thanks to Johnny, his knack for social settings appear bleaker". That earned you an amused huff from John. "He's kind and got humour, caught a few of his quips. But, he's also calm-mannered, poised, much like you".

"Hm, good kid, we work a fair share together". You looked at John, his eyes meeting yours a second later with a tilt of his head. "Any guess on rank?" You drew in air through your teeth, making a repeated sound with your tongue, and weighed your head from side to side.

"Could be a Lieutenant, but... he feels younger than Ghost, so I would opt for Seargent without too much knowledge of your ranking systems' correlation to age or serving time". You awaited his confirmation or denial.

"You're correct." He gave you a definitive nod, a smile grazing his lips as he continued. "Gimme MacTavish now".

Encouraged by his validation, you glanced at Johnny, still conversing with Marissa. "Easiest personality-wise, charismatic and easy-going, don't think I've seen him without some kind of smile this evening. Although he's more complex as a soldier, I don't have anything on him regarding that. Maybe that's why he's called Soap." You looked to John for help with raised brows, curious to see how close to the truth you were with the guess.

"He's a good soldier; his nickname comes from that", he smiled at you.

"Like my version better", you chuckled, and his smile grew, causing the bristles on his upper lip to curve, accommodating the move.

"Final thin’ then, what rank?"

At that, you actually let out a short laugh. "Would've guessed a Corporal if it weren't for you saluting his talents".

"Give up?" John's question was followed by a quirk of his brow and a sip of his drink.

"Do tell because I have no idea".

"He's a Seargent".

Your brows raised. "Yeah, no, don't believe that ", you shook your head with a laugh. "From what I've seen of him tonight, it doesn't fit his picture".

"A difficult soldier to spot outside base indeed", John referred back to your initial assessment of Johnny.

"Did I still pass the test then?" He lowered the glass he'd kept close to his chest this whole time, bending his left elbow to let it rest against the bar.

"Yes", thanks to his newly acquired position, his slight lean towards you was a mere shift. "Knew you would".

"How could you've been so sure?" You challenged him. "I could've choked under pressure".

John's brows quickly moved up and down as he raised his chin, remaining silent for a few seconds as he observed you. "No, you wouldn't have because it's your second nature. Noticed it when you came in here earlier." He gestured to the pub entrance with the tip of his glass.

As if able to get the outer-body perspective John had of you as you arrived, your eyes trailed the direction he motioned.

"How so?" Your gaze was back at him, yet his eyes remained stuck at the doorway.

"You were alert; those eyes of yours were sharp, observant to a degree I recognised ...", John's sentence trailed off when he turned back to face you, his eyes flickering over you before meeting your gaze. "Not gonna lie, the dress had me questionin’ longer than usual if you were one of us".

"What settled your mind?" He grinned, head tilting side to side.

"It's my job to notice people like you that ain't as sweet looking".

You wished you'd had a drink to cool yourself with as heat spread through your body at John's comment. To say it had taken you off-guard was an understatement. It was so unlike his earlier, not forced but definitely not innate, pick-up line; this was a taste of that same effortlessness he'd displayed during your game of cards.

Flustered, searching for your wits, you find yourself tongue-tied. And it didn't get better when you spotted John's smile behind the rim of his glass as he sipped his drink, eyes still on you.

Thankfully, he broke the mere second-long silence that had felt eternal when he swallowed the beverage.

"Maybe we should call you if we need a new face for interrogation". It was a joke. An offered out of your own flustered state.

"I bet Ghost is enough". John chuckled, yet the sound quietened when you swivelled your chair to fully angle your body towards him. "But, I still bet I could attribute with something".

"What you suggestin'?" His eyes jumped over you, a slight quirk in his brows.

"Can give you pointers on how an outside eye asses you".

"Now, can you, eh?" One of his already intriguingly raised brows arches. Your pulse increases, a slight tapping emerging at the base of your throat when John sets down his drink, turning his chair to face you. Instinctively you press your legs together, giving John enough room to not touch you with his knees as they slot on either side of you. "What would you say others see then?"

You justify the trail over his frame as required to answer his question. But, you know it's futile, knowing very well the roam of your gaze was to take in his broad body, still accentuated despite his arms crossed over his chest and the slight haunch in his back to lean slightly closer to you.

"A tight-knitted group", you say, eyes locking with his as you continue. "Yet, what the Captain says goes".

A slow side-ways tip of his head accompanies his amused huff. "That's the whole military".

You hold up a finger and raise your brows. "Ah, I'm not done". John raises his hand at your smile-accompanied accusation. "This group of yours, they look up to you, respect you, that's why they follow you. They put their trust in their Captain because he's earned it." Something softens the amused upward-turns of his features at your words, his arms settling on his thighs.

"Playin’ at an old man's pride?"

You chuckle softly. "Ain't playing anything; already said you must've earned your rank".

"You're startin’ to sound subjective, love".

"Oh, sue me", you roll your eyes, a slight smile spreading on John's features as his knee knocks against yours in jest before falling outwards again. "Fine then, if you want objective, I'll give it to you. If anyone wants to aim at your group, they'll aim for the heart". You nod towards him, inclining what you didn't spell out.

With a shift of one foot to rest on the floor to not have him fall out of his seat, John moves closer by a slight bend in the waist and forwards tip of his head. "If that's your best take on bein’ objective, I can't imagine your subjectiveness".

An all too cheerful-sounding scoff is directed at him as your knee falls out to mimic the bump he'd done against your knee previously. A grin breaks his lips apart. 

"I'll tell you, it works wonderfully for persuasions". Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you feel the smile you want to suppress spread anyways. John's eyes flicker down, returning to your gaze when teeth flash as your smile turns into a grin.

"Not doubtin’ that". John could've said something else entirely. You didn't need too much imagination to convince yourself he had. The cadence of his voice, the smooth churning of something purely described as deep, rich, mingling with the accent already coating his words in almost a droning hum, a pleasant one for your ear to experience.

You swallow, the intensity in those blues causing a quiver in your fingers. You attempt to shield it by putting your right arm on the countertop and tapping the wooden counter with your fingers.

A loud noise makes you jump, fingers curling into the wood, eyes falling from John's and seeking the source of the sound.

"Keep your heads on your shoulders. You need to be sober enough to get to the base at the latest 01:00 for drills at 07:00. I'm not puttin’ in a word against office duty if you don't". You switched to look at John -or more so his profile concerning he'd twisted his neck to watch the men seated at the tables- as he's seemingly unphased by the sudden disturbance.

"Does that apply to you too, Captain?" Your eyes widened, gaze snapping from John's profile. In the corner of your eye, you catch how he cocks his head and swivels his chair until he is sitting in a similar position as previously.

You hadn't anticipated the comment from Kyle. Johnny, maybe, but not the brown-eyed man now watching his superior with a grin as his eyes remain solely on the man at your side. Connecting it quickly to what Marissa forwarded from the Scot -something you gradually started to believe- you knew it was a jab at John and not necessarily you. Still, the attempted silent snickers from the others urged a rush of heat through your body, head ducking instinctively.

"You seem to forget I'm already on office duty and won't partake in the drills tomorrow, Sergeant". John replies without a hitch in his breath, an assertiveness in his tone you hadn't anticipated. It's enough for you to raise your gaze and focus on him.

As your eyes flitted over him, you realised his whole demeanour changed. It's the same shift you'd seen earlier the night, now clocking it's a switch between John and his role as Captain. However, unlike earlier, it doesn't make you uncomfortable. Instead, the opposite, an appreciative smile spreading when the arched brow daring Kyle, or anyone else, to make a further comment is met with silence.

As John turns towards you again, not entirely but showing his focus tracks back to you with the shift, you catch him mumbling beneath his breath. 'These lot...'

He sighs, shaking his head. "You mind?" Your gaze locks with his before flickering down to the metal case he fishes from his back pocket, opening it expertly with his thumb to show the cigars inside. He doesn't reach for one until you shake your head.

"Only if it smells like a cigarette". As John reaches for one of the dark auburn rolls, balancing it between his fingers whilst pocketing the case, he scoffs as if honestly offended.

"Then you wouldn't be the only one", he muttered, reaching for something over the bar.

You can't help how your eyes travel down to the small strip of skin he reveals when his shirt inch upwards. Before he notices, you promptly avert your eyes to see he's recovered a similar tray serving to collect ashes as he'd sported over at the table in the absence of a proper ashtray. 

As he placed it on his right side, away from you, he fished out the same sleek metal lighter he'd used to light the cigar earlier the evening.

"Hate when Ghost pulls those out". A flame flickered to life as he popped the cap with his thumb, the orange-yellowy flare brought to the butt of the roll now resting between his lips.

Your eyes skate over to Ghost, then back to John, eyeing him as he puffed at the end until dropping the pocket lighter with a satisfied hum when a subtle curl of smoke rises from the glowing tail.

"Didn't know he was a smoker", you say.

John glances at you, dropping the cigar enough to flash you a smirk. "We all have our copin’ mechanism. Some of us just have more tasteful ones". You chuckle with a shake of your head, following the cigar as he raises it to his lips.

He inhales a mouthful, not a lungful, John’s chest not expanding more than marginally. With his eyes closing, his hand drops to the side until his elbow rest against the counter and the cigar rests over the ashtray. When he releases the cloudy vapour, he turns slightly to the side.

As he faces you again, his eyelids flutter open, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards instantly when he discovers your eyes never left him. "You're starin’, love". You frown despite his teasing tone, nabbing the first thing that comes to mind.

"If you continue at this pace, those will kill you". You nod to the cigar in John's hand. Yet, you only get a chuckle and an amused look in return.

"If nothin’ on the field has done it yet, I take the risk". You let out a light exhale. From how John doesn't even wince but savours the taste before pointedly turning away from you and blowing out the smoke, you know you won't be able to change his habits.

You watch as he puffs the cigar, his blues not leaving yours longer than it takes to empty release his breath. The scent of smoke slowly tints the air, but there are hints of something else in those blue whisps.

"What's that?" You ask, and his brows raise as to what you're referring to. "The scent?"

John hums. "Maduro; carries a distinct coffee and dark-chocolate aroma".

"Don't know about that". You muse. Sure, it doesn't smell like acrid cigarettes, but neither would you've guessed coffee and chocolate. John smiles with a shrug before taking another puff. "You know your cigars".

"Like you know your liquor". You unabashedly shrug as John reaches for the glass he's let sit on the counter for a bit. He pauses mid-way to his lips, eyes flickering down to its contents. Or rather, the lack thereof.

"I can make another one". You say, not until now, realising all that's left is the half-melted ice cube. 

Without even waiting for John's answer, you prepare to stand. However, with a shake of his head and shifting his chair towards you, he stops you mid-action.

"Sit. I enjoy your company more than a drink". When John sets the glass on the counter, those blue eyes don't fall from yours. A sincerity is laced within his gaze, and the smile he's so prone to bring forth stretches your lips again.

As you sink into your seat again, one leg crosses the other, the slip of your dress accommodating by baring your thigh. Your legs fall closer to John with your move, and your exposed knee grazes against his thigh. When he further angles his body towards you, it rests against his leg. As neither of you breaks the point of contact, you feel the warmth he emits even through his jeans.

"Never got to know how you find your way to this pub?" The air is comfortable, and you rest your elbow on the counter, head falling against your hand as you watch John.

"Kyle got a whiff of the place through some mates; it just so happened that it lived up to its reputation". Not surprised. You hummed at his answer.

"What made you regulars?"

"Because I can have a drag of this without lookin’ like a kicked puppy on the streetside", he jokes with a motion to his cigar, and you huff out a laugh, still reprimanding him with a slight nudge to his leg with yours. "Happened to be that most took a likin’ to something after our first visit". Your brows cock, eyes instinctively fleeting sideways, briefly catching Johnny gazing at Marissa as she entertains a conversation with Kyle.

When they return to John, you find him watching you as he inhales a drag of smoke. "I can guess someone's reason-". You refer to what your attention strayed towards. "-but what's yours?"

"Hm, the ambience, like the conventional setting Marissa got goin’ despite innovated. Not a fan of many of the brand new places". You nod, noticing how John works his jaw, lips subsequently pursing, before he speaks up. "How come we haven't seen you around before?"

"Why, would I've added to the ambience?" You can't help the quirk of your lips at how his brows raise, feeling as if it was finally your turn to be put on the spot but the other way around.

Before he answers, a low chuckle escapes him as he ducks his head before rolling it to the side to look at you. "Maybe I would've added you as a reason".

You bite your lip, barely able to contain the giddiness his comment elicits. Only managing when actually answering his question. "It was some time ago I worked full-time. Nowadays, I only jump in occasionally when Marissa asks". 

He nodded. "What do you fill your time with otherwise?"

"Free-lancing", you explain. "Nothing all too fancy, but I get to do things I like with the freedom I want-". You clip the end of your sentence, stopping yourself before formulating your the intended question that would’ve followed. Naturally, you want to know more about his work in return, but you hesitate, not desiring to destroy the mood if he rejects explaining.

"I can hear you thinkin’". John nudges your knee with a slight move of his thigh, bringing you out of your thoughts. "Go on", he urges you. And, like so many other times during the evening, something about his encouragement makes you fold.

"Well, concerning Marissa has mentioned you, I can't lie and say I haven't been curious about you lot since arriving. But I didn't want to pry, know you're off-duty if you're here". He keeps looking at you as your head stops resting on your fist, instead moving your hand when you explain yourself, patiently waiting for the question you build up to with a barely visible smile. "I-I just wondered what you do? You guys aren't really rookies, and it was hard not to notice a certain reluctance to initially mention you were in the military...", you trail off.

John remains silent for a few beats, head tilting as he watches you, and you fear you overstepped even though he urged you to ask the question. "We ain't directly military".

"No?" Your brows furrow.

"Special forces". Your lips part, hand dropping until your forearm rest against the wooden counter. Oh.

"What branch, if I may ask?"

"SAS". Really fucking oh.

"And you made me think my training was even the slightest set apart from absolutely fucking petty compared to yours", you huff in disbelief. Your comments bring out a deep laugh from John, a grin pinning his lips upwards.

"It ain't all too bad".

"Not all too bad- the fucking SAS, John". You lean slightly closer to emphasise what you said as if he didn't realise his occupancy. "You're a Captain in the SAS out of everything on this spinning globe".

He shrugs, disturbing his slowly diminishing cigar's linear ringle of smoke. "Ain't too shabby, I guess".

"Fucking hell", your hand jerks upwards, shaking your head in disbelief as you straighten up again, an unbelieving smile etched onto your lips. That earns you another laugh from him as his hand, having rested on his leg, pats the middle of your bared thigh. 

"I'm takin' the piss".

You accusingly raise your brows at him. "You better be". His hand stills and gently squeeze the spot where he touches you, an offered 'my bad' as his gaze locks with yours. It takes mere seconds before your smiles reflect one another.

"Well, gentlemen, I think it's time to shoo you out. I don't want to be responsible for your absence on any important matters in the morning." At her voice, your eyes are drawn to Marissa. She rises from her seat despite some protest from a certain Scot, to which she only offers a smile and a 'sorry, Johnny-boy'. As she turns her neck towards you, her brown eyes flicker down to see John's hand resting atop your thigh. Although her smile remains the same, you note the twinkle entering them when noting your proximity to the older man. "Ain't that right, Price?"

"Always good to know you look after them", he returns, hand slipping from you to brace against his kneecap as he straightens somewhat.

"Your boys ain't the biggest group of troublemakers, but always good to have someone look out for them", Marissa shoots back. But, with a quick shift of her gaze to meet yours, you know the comment isn't as innocent as it appears. Having spent enough time with her, you can hear the unspoken continuation. While your attention is on someone else.

As your friend turned and began collecting what littered the table, Johnny followed suit to help her while Ghost and Kyle rose from their seats, gathering their belongings.

The shift in the edge of your vision brought your eyes back to the man at your side.

You watched as John stubbed out the unsmoked bit of his cigar. His opposite hand rose to run across his beard, and until then, you hadn't registered the fine specs of ash coating parts of his facial hair.

"Ready?" You ask when the action slows, unable to hide your amusement. John's gaze jumps to you, creases entering the edges of his eyes as he notes you'd followed his movement.

"The only downside", he chuckled as he rose from his seat.

One of your brows cocked. "Only one?"

"Hush now". His reply makes the laugh you repressed escape anyways, but it fades when he stretches out his hand for you.

Your brows raise momentarily, eyes flickering down to his hand and up to his eyes, not even debating before accepting his upturned palm.

John's hold is gentle as he helps you keep your balance whilst stepping down from the bar stool. "Thank you". He smiles in return and drops your hand, and you instantly miss his touch.

John turns and moves toward the only occupied table during the evening, and you watch how Ghost throws him his jacket that he expertly captures and supposedly was to retrieve. Your attention is pulled from them when Marissa passes you.

"Do you need any help?" You follow your friend as she rounds the bar.

Her head raised as she set down what she'd carried from the table. "No need. I'll fix this tomorrow morning". She gestured to the dishes before her.

"You sure? I can help so you can sleep in tomorrow?"

"We can help". Compared to the first time the Scottish accent appeared by your side, you don't startle when Johnny rounds you, placing the rest of the dishes beside what Marissa already brought.

"I have a few deliveries that I need to be here for tomorrow anyway, so I'm just gonna lock up for the night. Head on out with the rest". She waved the two of you off, and you simply shrugged.

"Fine, we'll wait for you outside", Marissa sent you an appreciative smile as your reply stopped the Scot from possibly debating with her.

"Alright, Riss", he simply settled on. "Come on then, lass", Johnny slung an arm over your shoulder.

"Am I your human crutch now?" You poked the dark-haired man's side.

"Haven't had that much", Johnny defended himself. "I remained on good behaviour today", he puffed out his chest as you caught a laugh from your friend just as she ducked into the back.

"Hard to believe when coming from the man daring me to a drinking game", you teased, knowing he wasn't any further inebriated than barely tipsy, concerning he wasn't stumbling over his words or burdened you with his weight when he turned the two of you with a chuckle.

Facing the exit, your and Johnny's eyes fall on the others moving towards it. 

You instinctively pay more attention to John as he steps away from their table. But, with his jacket already clutched in one hand since previously, your brows furrow. To your attention, he hadn't brought anything else. And that's when you see the accessory not fitting his general appearance. In John's other hand is your purse.

While something warm worms into your chest, you feel the body beside you move, silent amusement causing Johnny's chest to vibrate. You twist your head towards him, being met with a wide grin as his eyes drop to you, returning from having caught the same sight you'd done.

"You've really put ya charms on the old man, now 'ave ya?" His bright eyes are creased in the corners as his hand squeezes your shoulder.

Your mouth drops open. "I-I...uh", you stumbled over your words, suddenly bashful at having someone beside Marissa point it out. Even though he's already mentioned it to her, you remind yourself.

Your wide-eyed look earns a not-so-suppressed laugh from Johnny this time around. "No need explainin'". His smile softens somewhat, yet the glint in his eye is still there as he leans in slightly. "Only hope the old fecker doesn't fuck it up with a bonnie like ya". You duck your head to hide a laugh, nerves dissipating at the Scot's comment.  

"He's got his charms". You look up, gaze locking with John's briefly before facing the man at your side. He gives you a wink before letting you go, leaving you to take the lead when nearing the others.

Your focus shifts to the exit. 

Ghost pulls the door open, its never-fixed natural chime filling the air. Kyle follows him shortly, pushing the door slightly wider for John to catch with the same hand he holds his jacket. However, instead of exiting, he waits for you to come close enough to wordlessly hand you your purse and motion for you to head out before him. You smile as thanks for both actions.

The air is lukewarm. Not cold by any means. Still, a shiver prickles your skin when a warm gust blows past.

"You can't possibly be cold". You turn to look at John as he follows you onto the sidewalk. To give space to Johnny trailing after him, you take a few steps to the side before angling your body towards him as he steps up to you.

"Says the man who brought a jacket". You nod towards the material in his grip.

"Fair". John chuckles as he stops close to you, his free hand hooking into his pocket, his thumb sticking out.

As the door closes, you look away from those blues you'd stared into for the better part of the evening, focusing on what was beyond the pub window. You see Marissa with her bag slung over her shoulder, meaning she must've finished the closing procedure in the back.

Next, your eyes are drawn to the only one moving in the company. Ghost's dark frame melts into the building's facade more so than the still-bright evening as he moves towards one of the cars parked a few steps away. The late setting sun reflected in the windshield, and the cloud-free sky lightened the night considerably regarding the time.

The slight shift in your peripheral finally draws your eyes back to John. As your attention land upon him, you note he followed your previous line of sight of watching Ghost leisurely come to lean against the rear-view mirror as he waits. Soon though, his blue eyes settle on you.

"How'd you get here?" It's a simple and innocent question depending on how you interpret it. But you can't help but do anything but.

"I was already out and about, so I walked". John nods, looking away for a second as you notice his jaw works from the muscles in his temple. When his eyes return, he tips his head somewhat downwards and slightly raises his brows. "I could drive you home if you want?"

You immediately press your jaws together to not break out in a lunatic smile. Those butterflies are back, wild and whipping in your stomach, not because of nervousness but excitement. As you watch John, gaze into his blues, you breathe in.

Mingling together is the noticeable but hard-to-place smell of warmth in the air still present from when you arrived and the scent of John you'd grown accustomed to during the evening.

"My mother warned me of jumping into strangers' cars". You attempt to play down your immediate reaction to his offer.

It earns you a chuckle. "Can't say I pose as the friendliest either". John looked over his shoulder to the big black rover parked further down the street than Ghost had. You can barely shield your amusement despite attempting to when he turns back. "What?"

"Could think you worked for the Mafia rather than the military".

His brows teasingly narrowed at you. "That so?"

You nod with a light hum. "At the least thought it was more Ghost's style than yours", you'd lowered your voice to not let the man you referred to catch your sentence.

"Can't blame you", he chuckles with a slight head shake as your eyes fall back to the black rover ahead.

"Oh, jump in the car". Both you and John followed the voice to find Marissa. You hadn't heard her exit the pub and lock the door, but evidently, she must have done it slightly before butting into your conversation concerning how Johnny and Kyle joined Ghost by their car.

"I'm going the other direction anyways, and I know Price won't kidnap you". You knew she could've and would've given you a ride. She'd done it frequently when you worked together. You cocked a brow at her, one she disregarded when she redirected her eyes to John. "And, if you do so happen to take such a liking to my friend that you decide to abduct her, I know where you live".

"You don't know where I live", he huffed out a laugh.

Marissa only smiles in return. "Maybe so, but I do know where that base of yours is and that some of your boys will be there". She put a hand on her hip, and at that, he put his hands up in mock surrender, eliciting a chuckle from your friend as she turns back to you.

"Hear from you in the morning to know wheater you end up home or in a basement?" She said, but the look in her eyes said something else entirely.

You couldn't help but shake your head, knowing she had said it because she wanted all the details. "Sure". She brought you in for a hug before stepping away and heading in the same direction as the boys had, her car parked in front of theirs.

"Thanks for coming by tonight", she called as she stopped by the vehicle.

"You know I can't say no to you", you returned with a smile.

"Nice to meet ya, lass", Johnny called out as he opened the passenger seat, a grin present as his eyes shifted. "See ya, Cap'n". John gave him a nod in return as you waved to the Scotsman. Like his goodbye, your action responds to Ghost's nod and Kyles's wave.

"Seems like I'm taking you up on that offer", you said when finally turning back to face John.

"Come on then, love", he gave you a side-ways nod as he directed you to his car.