#fangs talkin
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droolfang · 11 months ago
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a shadowheart maybe?
bonus lzl
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padawansuggest · 1 year ago
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Time travel AU - Obi-Wan’s teething starts to pay off
Obi-Wan: *FINALLY gets a single fang cap out with his furiously concentrated teething… hands it to a confused Jaster because he is a small teen wtf is he supposed to do with a tooth cap???*
Jaster: *takes it with a wince* Thank you, Ob’ika, what a lovely gift for me to give your buire when they get home*
Obi-Wan: *grunts out thanks and goes back to concentrating on removing the other five fang caps* Thanks.
Jaster: *wiping his hands with a sanitary cloth and dropping the fang cap in the baggy Silas holds out for him* As I was-
Guy he’s in a meeting with: Um. Did your ad just lose a tooth? Isn’t he a bit big to lose teeth still?
Jaster: No, he didn’t lose a tooth.
Guy: …you lyin??
Jaster: I mean, he didn’t lose the WHOLE tooth-
Guy: IS HE OKAY?????
Jaster: *head in hands* He’s fine, this is normal for his species.
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everyday i wake up and mourn the fact that i lost my fangs to braces
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feline-evil · 4 months ago
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Also i'm a no-fangs truther for Cassidy, i know they ret-conn it/make him reveal he DOES have them pretty fast in the shows run but idgaf i like the idea of tearing throats out with flat human teeth more because i think its gnarlier and i love how...Un-vampiric he is as a vampire!
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pika-blur · 8 months ago
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spoilers for the last fang the hunter thang but i like the fact that the one thing that starline did that was completely his own thing separate from eggman is Not That anymore kjahdjkash
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screampied · 8 months ago
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PLEASSEE LINK THE VAMPIRE GOJO FANFIC YOU SAID YOU READ OLEASE
BABY NOOOOOO it was a fanart of vampire gojo but i saw it like months ago 💔💔💔 I CANT REMEMBER IT BUT HE WAS SO FINEEEE
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noeggets · 2 years ago
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the new sonic game is gonna be a hit out of the question this is a good party game i do not care
ALSO AMY AND FANG LETS GOOOOOooo
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michajawkan · 1 year ago
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If you wanna know what a peak Micha character in totality is just know that Baobao Fategrandorder is like 85% of the way there by herself
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strangerhands · 7 months ago
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godddddd i wish i had longer and sharper canine teeth... pls... please.
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droolfang · 7 months ago
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ive been insane about solar auxilia armor lately. the mask, the baggy pants. did you know models have sculpted sweatpants bulge???? i need a tiny prettyboy solar aux bf so bad
theyre not really my guys but slap a darker color scheme on em and im with you
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(feel free to send my talky blog @aphroditefangs various w*rhammer units and i WILL rank them on a scale of 1-10 by how sexy i think they are)
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k9wa · 9 months ago
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𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.
⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.
⠀ OR
⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.
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⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k
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boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.
a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.
as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.
“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”
you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable. 
“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”
you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.
“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”
boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.
“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin. 
“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’” 
“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”
you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.
“how’d it happen?”
boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.
“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”
boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.
“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”
the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.
“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.
“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”
boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.
“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely–  i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.
“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”
the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.
(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)
you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.
“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.
“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”
boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings. 
“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”
that censor really was gonna drive him insane.
“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”
it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.
“feel fine?”
boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.
“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.” 
boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing. 
“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”
you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them. 
boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.
the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up—  his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.
“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”
you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.
“what are you talking about?” 
“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”
boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.
you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.
“make a fist,”
boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.
“open it,”
he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.
“hold up two fingers,”
boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.
“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”
boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.
“least one o’us can say it…” 
“do you want me to fix you or not?”
“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”
you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.
boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.
it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.
“something the matter?”
boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.
“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.
“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”
boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.
yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.
boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.
“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”
each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.
“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”
you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.
boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.
“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out.  “much as i love our lil’ visits.”
you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”
this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.
you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.
boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.
“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?” 
he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move. 
“just like watching you squirm.”
you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.
“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.” 
boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.
“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.
you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received. 
so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers. 
his own dream, now his downfall. 
boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!
“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”
he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl. 
as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.
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⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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biolumien · 7 months ago
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Tired and sleepy reader who gets affectionate 10x more than usual with soushiro...... fluff
notes: short and cute... soft and sweet... im very sleepy all the time. this speaks to me. obligatory soundtrack for this lil' thing is this album.
nights like these
soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no warnings apply, they're just cute. word count: 808
“it’s 3 AM,” hoshina whispers, leaning close to your face. “you know that, right?” 
it’s been an ever-increasing habit of yours to call hoshina over right before you went to bed—you’d frequently call him over in the middle of the night, to increasingly later and later hours–and yet he’d show up each time, without fail. you’d texted him in the middle of the night, holding your phone close to your face, rubbing at your eye as you blearily texted for him to come over.
“mm,” you whine sleepily, reaching out to touch his face, letting your thumbs brush across his cheeks.. “hoshinaa.”
“yes?” hoshina’s voice was soft as he rested his hands on the bed, letting himself lean into your touches. as your thumbs brushed across the corners of his lips, you could feel the way his smile quirked upwards into your touch. one of his fangs poked out a little bit, teasingly biting the pad of your thumb. you whine, ever so softly, and he laughs fondly, pressing his face closer to yours. “what is it?” “stay,” you mumble. “don’t want you to go. stay here.”
“mm.” hoshina’s hands reached up to wrap around your wrists, his thumb brushing the back of your hands. “greedy. i still have things to do, you know.”
“no you don’t,” you protest, brushing your face against his. you can feel the way he shivers against your skin,  “‘m asking you to sleep with me, soshiro, what could be more important?”
“mm…” hoshina’s voice turns into a low drawl–you can feel the way his voice vibrates in his chest. “just don’t wanna get caught. the rest of the third division’s never gonna let this go if they find me…” though as he says this, he’s gently pushing at you ever so slightly, nudging you deeper into your bed, trying to make room for him. “c’mon, darling dearest. move a little bit for me.”
you shift backwards a little, yawning a bit as hoshina takes off his jacket, throwing it somewhere on the floor behind him as he pulls up your covers, slotting himself neatly beside you. you yawn again, pressing your face into his collarbone as soon as he’s settled. for how lithe he is, his chest is hard, too–firm and tensed with muscle. you can feel the way his heart beats, slow and steady. 
he hums, wrapping one of his arms around you, pulling you closer.
“you’re so needy, y’know?” hoshina teases, running a hand through your hair. “what am i gonna do with you?”
“mmh,” you kiss his neck, and his skin is warm. he smells faintly of something sweet and clean, and he chuckles.
“hey, i’m talkin’ to you…” he yawns a bit, his body tensing a little bit as he entangles his legs with yours, leaning forward to bury his face in the nape of your neck. “mm…”
“how was work today?” you ask, gently touching at the nape of his neck. he feels warm, a tactile weight beneath your hands, and you can’t help but feel the desperate desire to swallow him fully, fully entangling yourself in him–till you wouldn’t be able to tell where you start and where he ends. 
“mm. fine. boring,” hoshina says. “filin’ paperwork keeps me up all night. needed t’write up a report. i’d much rather be out there fightin’.” he presses a kiss to your neck as well, almost biting down against your skin. you shudder, entangling your hands in his hair. “how about you?”
“boring,” you respond. you tilt hoshina’s head up slightly, blinking up at him. his scarlet eyes were ever-so-slightly narrowed with sleep, his expression intense even though his body belied his weariness, how exhausted he really was. but his face is so fond–a fondness that makes your throat squeeze, almost. you lean up to slot your lips together, and he hums ever so slightly, moving his lips against yours sleepily.
“this is the highlight of my day,” you murmur against his lips, and he chuckles.
“sap,” he teases. 
“mm. shut it, you. you’re the one in my bed right now,” you mumble, pressing closer to him.
“only after you asked,” hoshina says, but his hand around you is firm, protective–possibly even a little possessive as it moves to the small of your back. 
“negotiation’s one of my best traits,” you tease.
“it is,” hoshina says, ever so fondly. his hand reaches up to brush your hair from your face. “n’you’re lucky i love you, and you’re cute when you ask.”
you hum, leaning into his touch, kissing his palm. 
“i’m sleepy,” you complain, a pout coming across your lips.
“then sleep,” hoshina says, kissing you again on the lips. “i’ll be here.”
“mhm,” you mumble, letting your eyes fall shut as you tuck yourself against hoshina, feeling the warm embrace of sleep take you into its arms.
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bokuwahyde-fanpage · 2 years ago
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mammonsrockstargf · 4 months ago
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HIDE AWAY
contents: mammon x gn! reader, fluff/crack?, gets suggestive towards the end, lucifer appearance (boooo), mammon is taller than reader, dumb shenanigans!! you have been warned, teasing, kissing, not proofread wordcount: 1k alba's note: happy birthday to my favourite man <3
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“Who’s a good boy?”
“Wha-” Mammon immediately stops in his tracks, his eyebrows narrowing and the tops of his ears turning red.
“Why are ya talkin’ to me like I’m a dog or somethin’?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from you. You can spot a blush growing from his neck, and the sight makes you cackle. 
“You’re my good boy,” you repeat, reaching out to scratch Mammon behind his ear, but he quickly swats your hand away, sending you a look of disbelief. “I’m not a dog!” he exclaims, avoiding your various attempts to ruffle his hair, knowing that if you get his hands on him, he might turn into a puddle of goo. “Stop that!”
You show no effort to stop, continuing to coo at him as though he’s a golden retriever you’ve just spotted on the sidewalk. 
“Hey, I am The Great Mammon! Do not cross me, human!” he continues. At this point, he’s red all over, hastily walking away from you. Your laughter only grows in volume as you continue to mess with him while you follow him. 
“You know what?” Mammon says, abruptly stopping, causing you to collide with his back. “Hmmpf! Hey, why did you—” Mammon turns around, and you go silent as you catch the look in his eyes. Annoyed, amused, and a little bit insane is the vibe you get as his pout morphs into a grin. 
“I’m a demon. I’ll eat you,” he says, teasingly flashing his fangs. You gasp. 
“You wouldn’t!” 
“I will!”
You decide to make a run for it, quickly moving down the hall towards your room. If you can make it in there and grab a weapon (a pillow) in time, then you might make it. Mammon is behind you, cackling evilly. You go around the corner, and you were so so close to salvation, if it wasn’t for the wall you ran into. 
“Auch!” you exclaim, rubbing your forehead. Your heart stops as you realise that the wall is wearing a suit. You look up to find red eyes already glaring at you. Mammon stifles a laugh behind you, pulling at your shirt to get you to walk a few steps back and create some distance between you and his older brother. 
“What are the two of you doing?” Lucifer asks, clearly tired of your shenanigans as you attempt to put on your most charming smile. 
“Hello, Luci. Did you have a good day?” you ask, wincing slightly when Mammon squeezes your hand in warning. You look back at him to find him shaking his head while motioning to stop with his hands. Lucifer sighs. 
“I seem to remember the two of you were on kitchen duty tonight. Perhaps you forgot?” He says, and you open your mouth to speak before closing it again. You completely forgot. 
“Hey, listen, I can explain,” Mammon begins, but he quickly shuts up when Lucifer glares at him. He begins his lecture, by telling you both how you’re irresponsible, and you do your best to pretend you’re listening as Mammon leans down to whisper in your ear. 
“On now, we run,”
“What?”
“Now!”
“Mammoon!”
You’re pulled down the hallway, down the flight of stairs into the living room. You gasp for air, barely being able to keep up with Mammon’s long legs, before you’re shown down another hallway and pushed into a closet. Mammon follows, closing the door behind him. It’s so tiny that you’re pressed against each other, and you can hear his heartbeat as you try to catch your breath. 
“He’s gonna hang you up on the ceiling,” you whisper after a moment of silence and Mammon huffs.
“Not if he doesn't find me.”
“He will find you.” 
You stand for another while and you shift, trying to find better space, but it only leads to you being closer to Mammon. 
“Aw, you stepped on my toe!”
“Sorry,” you giggle, and Mammon groans. Your hands find Mammon’s chest, snaking up to wrap around his neck as you pull him down to you. 
“Let me make it up to you,” you say, pulling him in for a kiss. He immediately reciprocates, his hands finding your hips as you’re pressed against the closet wall behind you. Mammon’s lips are soft, and his hands are warm as they travel around your body. You pull at his hair slightly, nails running along his scalp in the way you know he likes, and he rewards you with a breathy groan, almost a whine, as he leans closer in, till you’re completely trapped between him and the wall. His hands move a bit too low, squeezing your ass, and you gasp.
Mammon doesn’t waste the opportunity, slipping his tongue into your mouth, and you let him before you pull away for air. The closet feels awfully stuffy and hot all of a sudden as he moves down your jaw, placing kisses along your neck.
“Mams,” you sigh, patting his shoulder. “We can’t fuck in a closet.” 
Mammon whines at this, coming up to place one chaste kiss on your lips. 
“Why not?” he asks, as his hands begin travelling low again before you grab them and intertwine your fingers. “Could be kind of hot.” 
You scoff at this, though Mammon seems completely earnest, his blue eyes practically lighting up the small space as he presses another kiss to your lips. “No, one of us would definitely fall, or Lucifer would find us,”—Mammon grimaces at the thought—“or we would break something.”
You could list more predictions, but Mammon seems to get the picture as he rolls his eyes and pulls away slightly. 
“Yeah, okay, I get it,” he says. You lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. 
“I’ll tell you what,” you whisper in his ear, and Mammon hums, arms automatically wrapping around you in a hug again. “If we make it to your room, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” you murmur, and you can’t help but laugh when Mammon’s grip on you tightens as his breath slightly hitches. 
“Yeah, definitely, you’re on, treasure.” 
You watch Lucifer string Mammon to the ceiling, attempting to hide your smile as Mammon grumbles. His older brother shakes his head, not even bothering to say anything as he walks away towards his office. 
You kiss Mammon’s nose as he huffs and puffs in disappointment. 
“Biggest cockblock ever,” he mumbles, glaring towards Lucifer that’s disappearing down the hall. You stifle a giggle and kiss his cheek. 
“The night isn’t over yet.”
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thank you for reading!
masterlist | divider by cafekitsune
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killerpancakeburger · 10 months ago
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Imagine: Ghost giving you the shovel talk after Soap and you made your relationship official
It's the evening, you two are smoking outside in companionable silence, taking in the star-spangled sky. Suddenly his voice pulls you out of your daydreaming.
"So... you n' Johnny, eh?”
You feel an ominous shiver run down your spine - you do not like the turn this conversation is taking. His tone is steady, like it usually is, but it means nothing when that specter is involved. He could be slicing a throat and his voice wouldn't waver a iota.
If there was anything you learned about The infamous Ghost, in the absence of his identity and the face beneath the mask, it was that the names he used for the people he considered his family were anything but random. Soap was the most common way he refered to his Sergeant, but a Johnny could slip here and there. "Johnny" was personal; intimate; vulnerable; and possessive all at once. Not in the way an insecure lover would act - although...? Maybe...? -, but in the way a pack member would bare his fangs at a newcomer to protect his mates.
There was something animalistic buried within him that would resurface from time to time, when the risk was too great, when the survival of the 141 or of any of its members was jeopardized. Something you would not risk to vex. Simon was extremely protective behind closed doors, it wasn’t a scoop, but you thought yourself safe from his fangs... or at least you did until now.
"Yeah?"
How you hate the interrogation in your voice. As if you were seeking his permission. Like a child knowing they're asking for too much but doing it anyway.
You busy yourself with your cigarette, trying to look unfazed.
"He may sound like a fuckin' playboy most of the times, but he's actually a sensible kinda fella. Doesn't go around givin' his heart to just anyone, y'know?"
You gulp. Take a deep breath. The only way out is through. Might as well be done with it.
"So, is this the part where you swear that no one will ever find my body if I hurt him?"
You're proud of how casual you managed to sound.
He actually chuckles at that. A relaxed, raspy, unbothered kind of sound. Maybe you will walk away with your life tonight after all.
"Got it all figured out, don't ya? But that's good. Saves us some time."
He tosses his cigarette and, for the first time since you’ve been outside, he turns to you and look you in the eye. His stare is as intense as ever.
"We're in agreement, then? Ya'll treat mah boy well?"
"Wouldn't dream of anything else."
"Good lass."
A pause, then:
"This works both way, y'know that, right?"
"Hmm?"
Too busy celebrating your escape from the valley of the shadow of death, you haven't been completely paying attention.
"If he gives ya trouble, I'll knock some sense into that thick head of his."
You look at him again, your face beaming and your chest tingling with a newfound joy.
"Thank you."
You smile, unable to stop the motion of your lips. Your gratefulness is not for the threat he proclaimed, but for the friendship he extends to you.
He doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.
Suddenly a burly arm wraps around your neck.
"What were ya guys talkin' about!? You’ve been there for ages." Pouts Soap.
Glancing over at Ghost, you can see that Johnny has tried to grab him by the neck too, with a lukewarm success, considering the height difference between the two of them.
"Nothin' ye need to concern yerself with", retorts Simon, lying as easily as he breathes.
As Johnny turns to you in hopes of finding an easier target that will confess everything, you nearly miss the conspiratorial wink Ghost sends your way. The action is so far removed from his usual character, you understand that the discrepancy is made to amuse you. So you giggle.
Tonight the sky is full of stars, and your heart full of bliss, the way you feel like your chest might burst with happiness at any moment, with those two men at your side.
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A/N: Platonic!Reader x Ghost my beloved 😫 🖤 Tried to make Ghost the less OOC as possible, as usual >_< but man its not a walk in the fookin park.
Trouple potential tho? 👀 sorry not sorry, I can't help it, I love the ambiguity...
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