#put him in a meat blender

[minibuntinnyoffi]

Hi Doey admirers, I'm one of you too. He's adorable

[unholyscrearn]

I’ve discovered the joy of making fanmixes, so of course I had to make one for my favorite bastard, too. 🖤 I stuck to my own music library for this, so there are quite a few instrumental tracks.

AO3 YOUTUBE

[lucid-loves]

simon slowly falling in love with reader after hating her for a long time⁉️

Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it! ❤

Nuclear Date Night

Pairing: Ghost x 141!reader (fem!reader, weaponsengineer!reader, codename: Byte)

Word Count: 12.8k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, mention of violence, hate to love relationship, rivals, competitive, competence, realized feelings, smut, body praise, deep kissing, licking, fingering, biting, p in v

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: Ghost hates your guts. Even since you joined the team as their new weapons engineer two years ago, he’s hated you with his whole chest. With your high and mighty attitude, bewildering intellect, and unwavering confidence, he can’t stand you. You hate him too with his unreadable face, demeaning protection, and lack of grace. When an undercover mission requires the two of you to get closer, though, the both of you realize your hate for one another has turned into something else entirely. 

You ignored the icy cold glare the lieutenant kept on your figure as you explained how the new sniper-focus worked. Your comrades stared at your invention in wonderment, once again reminded just why you were part of the team. Thanks to your countless all-nighters and delicate hands, you managed to invent a focus that can attach to any sniper, calculate notches and wind speed, recommend the gun-adjust accordingly, and hit a target perfectly with over 98% accuracy. No matter the distance, no matter the weather, your focus powered with A.I. calculated assistance can kill any target. 

Everyone was impressed. Save for Ghost. 

“Aim at the target, give it a second to calculate, and then listen to the adjustment with the earpiece. After that, just adjust the aim and fire. Pretty simple stuff, really.” You demonstrated, large sniper in hand. 

The wind blew through your hair, dust coating your strands like moth to a flame. From a distance, a whipping dust devil was forming across the golden sands of the desert. It was dry, it was hot, and it was windy as hell. It was the perfect place to demonstrate your brilliance. 

When you joined the team two years ago, you knew that you had to put your heart and soul into this job in order to be taken seriously. You weren’t especially muscular or tall. As a soldier, you did train for instances of defense in case it was needed, but your true power relied on your smarts. A rather overlooked sign of an excellent soldier that often invited ridicule from the more traditional soldier. 

That’s exactly what Ghost did when he first met you. 

“You sure this shrimp can handle herself? Be one of us? She looks like she can barely lift a spoon without straining her wrist.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the memory, muscles tensing as if you were in that moment once again. The memory of your response quickly took over. 

“Are you sure this meat-head can handle my science? He looks like he can barely use a blender without getting confused by all the buttons.”

You both left a bitter taste in each other’s mouths that day. The taste has lingered ever since, tainting nearly every interaction you had. It was a wonder how you haven’t killed each other yet. 

Setting up the sniper, you prepped for the real demonstration. While you did final adjustments to the focus, you called over your rival. “Ghost, test this for us.”

“Why do I have to be the guinea pig? I don’t need a fucking robot to focus my aim anyway.” He protested, every cold tone in his words deliberate. 

The team shifted uncomfortably, even after all this time still not used to the spats the two of you got into. Attempts to resolve the bad blood have always failed. It was easier to just let the two of you spit your fire until you ran out of fuel. 

“Alright then, tough guy, you can aim without it. Go ahead, hit the target.” You nonchalantly agreed, confident that things were going to go your way this round. Ghost noticed that easy acceptance you gave, his eyes narrowing at you as he tried to figure you out. What was your game this time?

Not one to back down, he approached the sniper and aimed it normally, your focus set to default. No robots, no artificial intelligence. Just plain-Jane markers for distance. Looking through the scope, Ghost looked for the little red flag that indicates the location of the fake target used for practice. After a while of looking at nothing but sand, he spotted the target just past the dust devil. 

He would have to account for that. You planned for this. No wonder you insisted on dragging them all out to this dry wasteland. He clenched his teeth, blood simmering as you tried to make him look like a fool in front of his team. Backing away, though, would make him lose this game. Shooting and missing would also give you the victory point. Either way, both scenarios made him look incompetent.

God, he fucking hated you. 

Suppressing a malicious smile, you antagonize him. The feeling of beating him made your heart race in excitement. “Any day now, Ghost.”

He hated the way you drew his name out like that. The way you so easily said it like it was nothing but air to you. Like bubblegum being blown and popped at your will. His name should’ve struck fear and intimidation. Instead, you chewed on it. Popped bubbles with it. 

Aiming the scope, he lined up his shot, and fired. Watching the bullet carefully, he saw it shoot forth with speed right on the dead center of the target, whip back from the dust devil, and hit sand with an explosion of grain. 

It took everything in him not to fucking leave right then and there. 

“Good shot if you planned on missing. Now, use my focus.” You continued to tease, twisting the knife further into his already wounded pride. There was little snickering coming from his men, Gaz and Soap not being able to contain themselves. They would admit that sometimes your fights were funny. It was a way to cope with the discomfort it brought. 

Silently, Ghost switched on your focus. Out of the side, a small earpiece ejected out. He took it and fitted it into his ear under the mask. Of course, you programmed the artificial instruction with your own voice. Serious, stoic, and purposeful. “Awaiting aim to calculate.”

He aimed once more at the metal target using the scope, the dust devil blowing the sand around violently to protect it at all costs. The scope projected its calculations as if he was staring at a screen. Within a few seconds, it completed its estimations. A green dot appeared way over to the left and bottom of the notches, marking the shooting point. Your voice rang in his ears. “Target confirmed. Aim and fire.”

This seemed way off. There was no way this could be right. Was he really meant to aim so far off? The green dot stayed perfectly in place as he adjusted the aim, his center notch in line with your tech’s mark. He hoped that it would miss.

He fired and watched the bullet sail through the air, ride with the dust devil like a wave, and hit the target with perfection. He became slack-jawed bewildered at the precision. The fact that it could calculate aim with even an extreme factor such as swirling winds was undoubtedly impressive. 

This was your clear victory. And he hated it. 

You relished in his fiery disdain of your genius. A small smirk played at your lips as you saw just how the rage froze his muscles. He looked like he wanted to punch something. 

“God damn, Byte! That was phenomenal!” Soap loudly praised, his eyes wide in true marvel. The others agreed, all wanted a turn to use that focus of yours like it was a new toy. Every invention that you gave them has felt like a new toy. It made those days feel like Christmas morning. You were great at your job and they couldn’t be happier to have you on the team. 

Of course, except for Ghost. Even if your engineering prowess was the best in the world. 

“Really great work, Byte! Are the blueprints all ready to copy?” Kate smiled appreciatively while tapping on her smartpad.

“All ready for production.” You simply answered, proud of the work that you had accomplished. Another one for the books. 

While the boys played with their new toy, Ghost stepped back and crossed his arms angrily. 

He hated everything about you. Your unmatched intellect, your confident plays, your arrogant personality. He hated that his team was wasting money on technology for weapons when a true soldier shouldn’t need the handicap. Real skill was earned by yourself. Not with the assistance of technology. It should be a tool, not a crutch. 

Ghost believed that people who couldn’t aim a sniper on their own and hit a target didn’t deserve to be snipers. And you just made him unworthy of being a sniper when against your tech. 

You looked up at him, taking note of how hard he threw daggers at you. You made him look stupid, and that was your goal. It felt like you had the world in your palm when you did. Someone as respectable as Ghost being bested by a brainiac was always the best. You proved that you didn’t need muscles or height or even intimidation to be better. You just needed your smarts. 

A huff of a laugh escaped you as you turned away from him, knowing that that would just make him even more angry at you. Good. 

You hated everything about him too. 

~

“What you do really is modern magic. Seriously, Byte, how does your brain come up with such things?” Gaz inquired, raising a bottle of beer to his lips. The team decided to celebrate your new invention at the usual bar. Of course, your drinks were on them as a reward. They knew that you put a lot of work into what you did. The least they could do was pay for your rum and cokes. 

You raised the cold glass to your lips, the sweet and spicy cocktail hitting your tastebuds. “The pros of being a genius. Thank you for the praise. It feels nice to be appreciated for my work around here.”

That last past was said a little louder, loud enough to make sure that Ghost could hear it on the other side of the bar. He bit his tongue and rolled his eyes at you, not willing to open himself to any more of your antagonizing today.

The victory was as sweet as the drink you were nursing. Addictive too. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of success. When you finished an invention, when you helped your team complete a mission, or when you bested Ghost, they all gave you that sweet sense of accomplishment. 

Soap slung his arm around your shoulder, nearly causing you to spill. He was already a couple drinks in. “Yeah yeah yeah, good work! But all we ever talk about is work. Been two years, Byte. Tell us what that genius does outside of work, huh?”

You shifted in your seat, becoming a little uncomfortable with the sudden questions about your personal life. They knew tidbits here and there about you. Some failed relationships, favorite songs, distaste for certain foods. But your answer to all of that was usually straight-forward. “We broke up.” “I like this song.” “I’m not going to eat that.”

Something that the team noticed early on was that you were a workaholic. You hung out with them on rare occasions, you were usually confined working in your lab while they had offices, and you usually departed events early to be in said lab. Besides minor details, they really didn’t know much about you outside of your work personality. They have been trying to pull you more out of your shell over time, but it was a slow process. 

Gaz frowned at Soap’s bluntness. “Come on, Johnny, leave her alone tonight.”

“It’s fine, Gaz.” You put your glass down roughly, the clink of the glass on polished wood sobering Soap up pretty quick. It made Gaz look away in shame. That was at least one thing they knew about you most intimately. You hated being treated like you can’t take care of yourself. When they stepped in on your behalf, answering a question that was meant for you, it made you want to hit them. You knew they only did it to protect you. That you were one of them and this is how they treated one of them, but you could never let it be. 

You didn’t need anybody to stand up for you. You will make that a point for forever if you had to. 

The air grew thick with tension as you silently scolded them for hitting one of your pet peeves. With a sigh, you caved in, wanting to restore some of that fun from before. “What do you wanna know? Anything is on the table.”

Soap’s face lit up like a match to a gas station. “Seriously?! Anything?”

You gave a little nod and braced yourself for the worse. Soap’s lack of personal boundaries was quite well known. It was coming from a place of genuine curiosity and ease, never ill-intent. It was just one of the quirks of Soap that you were still coming to terms with even after all this time. 

“Well. . . what’s your sex life like?” 

Gaz began to choke, coughing on beer stuck in his throat. Price tapped his back to help him out, his sharp gaze falling on Soap for such a personal question. Yet, he didn’t say anything. He knew that if he did, you would get angry at him. He has been pretty good about avoiding your pet peeve and he didn’t want to break his streak.

Clearing your throat, you composed yourself. You weren’t expecting such a blatant question either, despite inviting this kind of open question. It didn’t mean that you weren’t going to be honest, though. That just wasn’t the kind of person you were. You never stepped away from a challenge. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Soap grinned widely, happy to talk with you finally like you were just like one of the guys. “Body count? Preferences? All of it. I wanna know what a genius views sex as.”

Slowly, you drank the rest of your rum and coke before signaling for another one. While you hailed the bartender, you noticed that Ghost was staring intensely at you. He hated you, but even he was curious on how anyone could tolerate you enough to sleep with you. 

Once you were halfway through your second drink for some liquid courage, you began to talk about one of the most personal details of your life. “Body count of five. All men. Most were one-night stands or sex-friends.”

You liked sex. There was no question about it. At least, you were interested in it. Despite the amount of people you’ve been with, they always left you wanting more. It was always a little unsatisfying when they were finished. It always felt like there was a black hole inside of you that needed the right meal to be satisfied. 

The exact reason why was no mystery either. Unless you were masturbating alone, you never came. No matter how much time and effort went into foreplay, none of your partners have ever made you orgasm. 

Just because your sex life was active didn’t mean it was great. 

“Wow, that’s a little surprising.” Gaz admitted, finally over his coughing fit. Price shook his head, a little embarrassed to hear about his men talking about sex so freely with you. As a captain to a group of mostly boys, he has shared details with them to bring the group together. It felt a little strange to have you participate in this. Even Kate wasn’t pressured into sharing such details. 

“Our little genius gets some then! How is it? Any experience noteworthy?” Soap persisted as he ordered another round.

“Not especially? Average, I suppose.” You shrugged, answering the questions becoming much easier the more you poured rum and coke into your system. Warmth crept along your cheeks, blossomed in your ribs. You felt yourself opening up like a dormant flower. 

You ordered another drink. Soap continued to pry. “Average? What does that even mean?”

“I never came before.” You suddenly blurted out, the blending of your naturally blunt personality and alcohol turning into a pretty dangerous combination. It seemed like the rum in you was getting to your brain faster than you thought. 

This time, it was Soap’s turn to choke. Gaz was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to comfort your plight. Ghost just stared as if he was watching the news. However, his mind was thinking all sorts of things. He wanted to mock you. Say that that was what you deserved for being so arrogant about your intelligence. He felt the instinct to trash talk you to recover some of the pride he lost today. 

Yet, he couldn’t. In fact, he began to feel a foreign pity for you. If you knew that he was pitying you over something like this, you would absolutely rip him a new one. That didn’t stop his eyes from softening for just a moment, though. A moment that you noticed with those sharp eyes of yours. 

Finishing your drink, you slammed the glass on the counter, nearly shattering it. How dare Ghost look at you like some tragic whore! So what you never orgasmed from sex! You were doing just fine when it came to solo-sex escapades. You didn’t need anyone to satisfy you. You only needed yourself. “I do perfectly fine when I masturbate. Don’t get it twisted. Other people just don’t satisfy me. It’s whatever.”

In a simmering fire, you got up from your chair and left the bar for the night, leaving your teammates wondering what the hell got you so worked up all of a sudden. 

Only Ghost knew the answer to that. 

~

Arriving back on base on your motorcycle, you headed straight to your lab. It was quiet. The dead of night. Everyone else was either back home, sleeping in the barracks, or partying it up downtown. You had an apartment to go back to, but you always found yourself coming here instead. 

Settling your helmet and jacket on the coat-rack, you made yourself at home. Dim-emergency lights softly illuminated unfinished projects on tables. Pieces of wires, circuits, and bolts littered every corner of the room. The place looked small and cramped during the day, scientists and engineers squished together in a lab that was second priority compared to the more athletic-based facilities. In the night when no one was here, the place looked like a tech graveyard. Vast, dark, and cold. 

You headed towards your usual workstation, a large workshop desk that was overflowing with unfinished blueprints of inventions that haven’t panned out just yet. A lot of the struggle came from lack of funding. Some of it came from unrealistic expectations. Science was an investment, something that most military dogs failed to realize. It’s why you always pushed yourself to work constantly and prove what the proper time and resources could bring. 

You were essentially killing yourself in order to make them see the worth of your department. 

Looking through the blueprints, you settled on one that was worth revisiting. A Russian Doll bullet that would save ammunition and materials to build said ammunition. The idea was to invent a bullet that would be compatible with most firearms, shoot an outer layer of bullet without shooting out the inner layer, and repeat until the last of the bullet is gone only to be replaced by another Russian Doll bullet. 

It would effectively turn a six-shooter into a twenty-four. It would save so much ammo and save many soldiers the reload time. 

The only problem you haven’t solved yet was the instability of gunpowder. 

That’s what you decided to work on tonight. Taking a seat in your worn out swivel chair, you opened your drawers and pulled out your materials. Bringing a magnifying glass close to you, you began to disassemble a few bullets. It was always a good idea to build things by first taking things apart. 

As you worked, you heard the sound of the lab door open. It was still much too early for the morning crew to come in, so you wondered who it could’ve been. Maybe Price had come to lecture you about how you left things at the bar. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to talk to you about your temper. 

Turning around, you were surprised to meet your rival, peering over all of the electronic corpses on the tables. He didn’t come here very often. You were always here after all. He knew you were always here. He shivered, noticing just how chilly it was inside the lab. The air conditioning was running on full blast. “Feels like a meat-locker in here. How can you work like this?”

“What do you want?” You sharply retorted, nerves already on edge at his presence. The lab was supposed to be your refuge. Your paradise. And here came the snake. 

“Relax. I’m not here to fight. I just wanted to talk to you about the focus.” He treaded carefully, his own instincts waiting to fire off like they were used to when he was with you. A lightbulb in his head just went off just then. He realized just how bad the relationship between the two of you was since his first real instinct was to yell at you. Ghost knew you felt it too. 

He was supposed to be the 141’s Lieutenant. He was supposed to bring the team together for his captain. And here he has been for two years, trying to push you out. 

Ghost has never even approached you without the intention to fight or yell or demand since the first day he met you.

Christ, was there any recovery from this? Ghost took a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully for once. “The focus is great. You did a good job.”

“Don’t fucking pity me.” You snapped, turning back to your desk and igniting sparks as you bonded metal with heat. A hurricane brewed in your chest. Did he seriously come all this way to pity you? The gaze in his eyes should have been enough. It made you leave the bar!

Ghost felt that fire rising in his throat, wanting to say something back that would hurt you. Old habits die hard. It was a tough pill to swallow. “I’m not trying to pity you. The focus is going to help a lot of soldiers. It’s going to save a lot of people.”

You paused, unsure if his words were genuine or misleading. You’ve fallen into that trap before, hearing what seemed like a compliment only for it to be backhanded. It was unfortunate that you didn’t trust a word that came out of his mouth. “Why did you look at me like that at the bar?”

He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he wished he didn’t. He didn’t really want to talk about your sex life when it was just the two of you. Especially not when the two of you haven’t even had one decent interaction with each other. Goosebumps prickled all of his skin, his teeth nearly chattering. How could you keep it so fucking cold in here?

“I felt sorry for you.” He admitted, finding himself unable to lie to you or change topics. At least from the beginning, he has always been honest with you. 

As you heard the words you loathed to hear, you put down your tools, hands becoming too shaky to handle them with all the rage storming inside you. “I-”

“I felt sorry that no one has liked you enough to satisfy you.” 

Well, that didn’t exactly sound right.

Your mouth opened in shock at his dig. His eyes widened as he heard the words coming out of his mouth, realizing that it sounded completely fucking wrong. He held his hands up in defense, scrambling to explain himself before it was too late. 

The hurricane was in full swing, though. But instead of bringing thunder, it only brought rain. The corners of your eyes prickled with tears before streaming down your flushed cheeks. A lump choked in your throat choked the air out of you. You thought you could say something hurtful back. You always did before. But this time, his words cut a little too deep.

None of your relationships have lasted long. Not even with people you agreed to just be sex-friends with. They always ended up leaving. Whenever you asked what went wrong, they always blamed it on your demeanor. Your personality was too particular. Your interests were too complex. Your high expectations were too much. 

It was one of the reasons you kept a distance from the 141. They loved your company as far as you knew. But only in small doses. Who knew what would happen if they really spent time with you? They would probably get sick of you over time too. Ghost hated you since day one after all. 

No one liked you. You thought that you were fine with that at this point, but clearly you weren’t.

Ghost stood frozen in time, completely taken aback by your sudden tears. He expected screaming. He expected hitting. He expected icy retorts. That’s all he has ever known you as. He never in a million years expected tears. 

It made him feel like he was the biggest piece of shit on the planet. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know what to do about it. 

All of his years of hatred for you melted away as he watched you crumble, your distrust for him putting up more walls between the two of you. Jesus, how does he fix this now?!

“Byte, I-”

“Don’t you think I already know that no one likes me? You think you’re the first person to hate my guts?!” You spat, some of the lightning finally coming out. The tears kept coming, but it was somehow better for Ghost. He felt more used to that dangerous spark you had. It made you easier to approach now. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. Poor choice of words. Honest. I just meant that. . . I . . . Everyone deserves to be loved enough to the point of satisfaction. You work hard and give us countless advancements to use. You deserved to be satisfied. You deserve to have someone that will put the work into you too.” He finally managed to find the right words, nearly running out of breath with all the effort he had to find them. He was never really good at heart-to-hearts. 

You looked at him in shock once more as he attempted to salvage the hurt he caused you. This was beyond confusing for you. Your brain that worked so hard everyday, that could think up a million things at any given time, was at a loss for words. 

In your uncertainty, you followed your instincts. And that was to turn back around to your desk, wipe your eyes, and get back to work. It was the only constant in your life that you could rely on. The best way to think. 

Ghost didn’t blame you for returning to work. He probably wouldn’t know what to say either if it was him. Instead of pushing it any further, he decided that it was probably best to leave. Before he headed out of the lab, he turned back and looked at you. 

You did the same, the moment of work gracing your senses. In the end, he did try to pay you a genuine compliment. You were always the type to reciprocate fairly. “Thanks, Ghost.”

There was a certain way you said your thanks that made Ghost’s heart skip a beat. A sense of gentleness that he’s never heard from you before. The way your eyes shone bright from leftover tears had him stunned. Were your eyes always that pretty?

He turned quickly and left, the back of his neck heating from the intrusive thought he just had. As he walked back to the barracks, he sighed. The air outside was much warmer than the environment of your lab. So much easier to breathe. It felt suffocating being in there. Out here, he could let his mind relax.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking of you. 

~

The two of you didn’t fight as much anymore. Sharp words slipped out every now and then, but neither of you kept feeding the fire once they were said. Most of the time, you two were just back to avoiding each other. Though, the both of you had your own reasons. 

You found yourself just at a loss of words when he was civil. It was that distrust that still lingered that made it hard for you to interact with him. It was especially difficult to be around him when he was actively being polite. Praises for your work, helping you carry heavy boxes across base, or prioritizing processing your submitted paperwork was always done either curtly or in silence. It was foreign to you.

And the energy you saved now that it wasn’t spent on fighting was now put to use by noticing him a little more. You always couldn’t help but stop and stare as he helped carry equipment with you from the lab to the armory. The way his biceps flexed with ease at the heavier load. The way his eyes remained stoic even as he embraced your inventions. Ghost was now more on your mind than ever, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. 

Ghost, on the other hand, was now always thinking about you. He felt the urge to get closer to you. To get to know you better. To help you out in a way that didn’t look down on you like he’s always done. He couldn’t stop thinking about your eyes too. How bright they were under the sun or moon. How they watched him under such careful supervision, trying to decipher if his good will was real or not. 

Even in moments where he didn’t want to think about you, he found his mind wandering anyway. Ever since that night in the lab, he felt his feelings change. Two years of anger and resentment for you have nearly melted all away only to be replaced by something else. And he didn’t know how to explain it. 

All he could do was try to keep cool. Remain civil. Avoid too close of interactions with you. 

It was working for the both of you for months until you were assigned to a mission together.

The team had noticed that the both of you were getting along in the loosest sense of the term. They wondered what caused such a shift, but they never asked out of fear of resetting the apparent progress. Instead, Price tried to push more progress by assigning the both of you to work an undercover mission. 

A wealthy investor of nuclear weaponry was suddenly pouring a lot more money than usual into a country with a rising dictator. The investments coincided with less threatening ideas such as climate change prevention and DNA study in order to balance out interest. The goal was to detain this investor, question him about his relationship with this dictator, and then hopefully stop a dangerous man from getting his hands on advanced nuclear power. 

The way in was at a formal event promoted by the science community. Conservationists, biologists, engineers, and more were going to be present to try to win over some other wealthy investors that would be there including celebrities, CEOs, and politicians. It was a high brow event which made the need for scientific knowledge apparent. 

And who knew more about such science than you?

Intimidation invitations in hand, Ghost waited in a hotel lobby, a crisp, black tuxedo hugging his form as if tailored to him. The skull balaclava was swapped with a simple black face mask, covering enough of his identity which made him feel better about all of this. Looking at a nearby mirror, he checked his blonde hair. He’s never dressed so formally in his life. 

He suddenly wondered if you would like it. 

You still need a moment to get ready, always one to check twice to make sure you had everything you need. Your heart raced in your chest, your nerves tingling with adrenaline as you prepared to see this mission through. You’ve been on the field a couple of times. Never under-cover. The fact that you would probably have to do most of the talking made you nervous. 

People didn’t like you. That weakness of yours was clouding your confidence. Being a woman in science was already a tough world. Would you be able to keep your personality in check if you faced such a conflict?

Nervously, you headed down to the lobby, adjusting every dress each step of the way down. When you spotted Ghost from a distance, you froze. You have never seen him so cleaned up before. When you were coming down, you half expected him to appear like he always has. Military uniform, skull mask, strapped with obvious weapons. 

You didn’t know that his hair was so. . . 

Finding yourself at a loss for words again, you steeled yourself. As you got closer, you realized that your heart was racing for an entirely new reason. Your lieutenant was much more attractive than you thought. 

And he was technically your date for tonight.

Ghost caught your figuring in the corner of the mirror, making him turn around. Time stood still for you once again as you appeared before him looking like someone straight out of a romance movie. Your dress hugged your curves in all the right places, every strand of hair was styled beautifully to frame your face, makeup only highlighted just how beautiful you naturally were. 

How could he never see just how beautiful you were before?

You walked closer and cleared your throat, that voice he thought was so annoying before now sounding like the sweetest violin. “Lieutenant, you look good this evening.”

This was the first compliment he’s ever received from you. It made his stomach do flips. What was happening to him? Pull it together!

“Thanks. You look great tonight. Ready?” He offered his arm, waiting for you to take it. 

Your heart could barely take it as you looped your arm around his, touching him so intimately for the first time. Heat radiated from his body. The biceps you found yourself staring at before felt solid under your touch. You looked up into his eyes, the glacier blues melting into a deep ocean. Looking away suddenly, you attempted to hide your blush. He was looking at you so intensely that it startled you.

“Do you have to stare?” You questioned a little too sharply than you intended. You braced yourself for him to say something equally sharp, something Ghost felt in your arm that was hooked around his. 

He averted his gaze, now conscious of the way his eyes naturally followed you. His mind searched for an explanation for his lack of discretion. The unexplainable pull that you had on him. Jesus, it was like he was. . . 

Oh. Oh no.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, trying to keep his feelings in check. How could he spend two years praying for your downfall to all of a sudden being-

He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t even want to entertain the likely possibility. Even if he wanted to act on his feelings, did he really deserve to after all the fighting for two years? You would probably never truly accept him after all the things he’s said and done. You weren’t completely innocent either, but Ghost had to face the fact that he was the one that started it all. Before even knowing your name, he insulted you, unable to keep his opinion on tech in weapons in check. A matter that wasn’t even your fault to begin with. 

What the hell was wrong with him back then? What the hell is even wrong with him now?

“Hey, Earth to Ghost. You okay?” You asked, noticing how he seemed to be just staring into space as they waited for the car to pick them up. There was a brightness in the night, a rain having just finished its pour. Puddles on the ground reflected the city’s lampposts, cars flashed their lights, and much to Ghost’s dismay and pleasure, your eyes shined replaced the stars. 

His voice was deep and agitated, more so upset with himself than with you. “I’m fine. Just nerves.”

At that you smirked that devilish smile that he hasn’t seen in a while. It pissed him off to no end before, but now it made his heart flutter. “Wow. The great Lieutenant Ghost has nerves. Never thought I’d hear that. Makes me feel a lot better, though.”

“And why is that?” He inquired carefully, almost afraid to hear the answer. 

You shrugged, actually starting to feel at ease for the first time in his presence. The butterflies were still there. They were just much more manageable now. “I am nervous as well.”

Before he could question you further, the designated car pulled up in front of the hotel. Gaz, parading as the chauffeur for tonight, got out of the car and held open the passenger door for the both of you to get in. Soap wanted to do this job, but Price refused. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to shut his mouth if he saw the two of you together like this. Gaz at least had a filter.

He played the role to a tee, onlookers staring as he took off his hat and bowed. “Good evening. You both look dashing tonight. Especially our lady.”

The cover was working smoothly. Together, they really looked like A-list people. The civilians would have never guessed that they were all just soldiers. Drinking in their looks, you let it replenish your confidence. You got into the car followed by Ghost, Gaz shutting the door once everyone was settled. As he drove to the venue, he went over the mission details. 

“We’ll be keeping an eye on you the entire time. We have access to all the venue’s cameras and we have mics hidden throughout the building. Some security is our own too to keep an eye on things. This place will be packed full of civilians, so violence must be kept to a minimum. Non-existent preferably. If anything does go wrong that we don’t notice, use the codeword.”

You nodded at all of the information that will keep you safe, reading the mission file to brush up on before the big show started. Ghost looked over your shoulder, also reading the file once again. Mostly though, he noticed how intensely you studied. You didn’t want to be the reason why this mission failed. You couldn’t afford that. 

When the car slowed in front of the venue, you looked out. At least a hundred people were outside, dressed to the nines, ready to spend their money or ask for money. Your blood suddenly became cold as you looked at all the people. There must have been hundreds more inside.

Gaz parked the car and stepped out, getting ready to open the door for you. However, you were a statue. Unmoving. There was panic in your eyes. You looked the part for this. Could you talk the part too?

A warm, large hand landed on your shoulder, gaining your attention. Ghost looked at you with steady eyes, his tone slow and soft as honey. “You got this, Byte. You’re probably smarter than everyone here. I’m right by your side too.”

It was relieving hearing those words come from him. He was encouraging you like he was your lieutenant. Like you were part of his team. Your heart swelled as you looked into the eyes you’ve been trying to avoid. It looked like he was finally seeing you after all this time. 

With a deep breath and a new steely expression, you nodded to Gaz through the window. He opened the door and Ghost stepped out first. You took the hand he offered you and came out, the buzz of intellectual conversation in the air. 

Gaz drove off, leaving the mission to the two of you. Ghost led the way up, your arm in his like it was always meant to be there. Miraculously, the two of you looked like the ideal date. It made getting into the venue easy as Ghost handed over the invitations to the guard at the entrance. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Riley. Have a fun night!”

The both of you couldn’t help but blush at the shared name. To be referred to as Mrs. Riley gave you ideas that you never thought you would think about. It strangely had a nice ring to it that made your senses prick up. 

Ghost thought the same thing as he guided you in. Tonight, you were Mrs. Riley, his beautiful and intelligent wife. 

The two years of hating each other seemed to feel farther away as the night stretched on. 

The marble floors were packed with esteemed guests. Large, crystal chandeliers reflected off gold jewelry and champagne glasses. A live orchestra played with precise rhythm. Everyone mingled, trying to see where the best place to put their money was. Likewise, scientists tried to advocate for their foundations. All of the talk made Ghost’s head swirl. He was used to undercover missions, however, this was truly out of his realm. 

You were better at picking up the jargon. They spoke a language you understood. The language that only the people in the lab on base understood. It was like hearing your native tongue after years of speaking foreignly. Military culture and science culture was so different, that you often missed this. 

A couple approached the two of you, led by a middle-aged woman with a large, diamond necklace and fake lilies in her hair. “Aren’t you two the most adorable couple! I must compliment you on your gown too!”

This was it. This was their test to look like a real couple out as each other’s dates. You put on a fake smile and held out your hand. “Thank you for the compliment. I’m Mrs. (Y/n) Riley. This is my husband.”

The name slid easily off your tongue, yet it sent electricity through you. There was no way you were going to get used to that name tonight. It made you feel lightheaded when you said it. How could you get so embarrassed by a fake name?

Ghost was having trouble getting used to it too, a part of him wishing that the name was real against his will. Clenching his jaw, he looked out at the crowd, trying to spot the target. His large height helped, but there were too many people around. They all crowded around each other. Talking, laughing, flaunting. A slight tug on his arm brought his attention back to you. You were just sending the lady on her way after a simple, pleasant conversation. Through that, you were able to figure out if the target has shown up yet. 

“Let’s go to the main ballroom. According to the recent intel, our target would be there if he’s shown up. Something about him not being able to resist a shrimp cocktail.” You directed, your confidence becoming stronger as you weaved through the crowd. Ghost couldn’t help but take in your courage, finding it hard to believe that you were once nervous. Then again, this was your crowd.

The ballroom floor was also filled with people, but also now with clear advertisements from scientists. Small signs indicated programs with their representatives, helping investors find the right place to put their money in. You read the signs carefully, recognizing a few of them along with who was supposed to be running it. At some of the names, you grimaced. 

“You alright?” Ghost asked, trying to keep his own expression solid as if he was playing poker. He found himself worrying about you now that you looked so pained. 

You shook your head, trying to clear unpleasant memories as best as you can. “I’m fine. I just. . . I hope I don’t run into any ex-colleagues.”

As if the devil was listening himself, you heard your name being called from afar, a surprised tone countering the determined piano filling the room. “Y/n? Is that really you?!”

Putting on your game face, you smiled and turned towards your former colleague and, unfortunately, ex-lover. Of course, this was going to happen. Almost always one thing goes wrong during a mission. A part of you wished you didn’t accept this mission now that you were face-to-face with someone you tried to leave in the past. 

“Dr. Emmanuel. It has been a long time.” You greeted politely, taking extra time to keep your tone in check. The last time you spoke to him was during the breakup. He dumped you after a quarrel about a missing blueprint. You were working on a project together when you were both interns at a scientific space-engineering facility. The blueprint was supposed to help the both of you land permanent positions, but it was made clear that there was only room for one. 

When you heard the news, you both agreed that neither of you would take credit until you talked to the head of the facility. That was, until the blueprint went missing. From there, you fought and accused him of taking the blueprint for himself to get the job. Your hunch was right when you saw the new employee ID card he hid in his wallet. 

You called him a traitor. He called you deplorable. You claimed that most of the blueprint was your design. He reasoned that if you had the job, you would neglect him anyways with your workaholic nature. He then dropped the bomb that he hated working with you, that you made him feel insecure in bed with your inability to orgasm with him, and that you were just becoming into someone he loathed with your particular personality. He accused you of not loving him enough.

So he took the credit and ran, leaving you to figure out what the hell you were going to do about a job. That’s when you decided to join the military as a weapons engineer. Some time after, you joined the 141. 

“It has been some time, hasn’t it? I’m surprised to see you here? Are you here as a scientist or an investor?” Your ex inquired, sizing you up as someone to take advantage of or as competition for investors. You knew his game and you knew it well. You only had to learn the hard way once before you learned your lesson. You never made the same mistake twice. 

Ghost noticed how your expression hardened, yet you maintained that fake, pearly smile. What was this man to you? How did you know each other? 

Why did he care so much?

“He is the investor and I am the scientist. This is my husband, Mr. Riley.” You announced, now saying the word “husband” with your full chest. Your ex’s eyes widened briefly before twisting into a smile that showed hints of disgust. 

Nonetheless, he held out his hand for a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Riley. It is an honor meeting a man that could tame such a work-driven woman.”

Before you could shoot back some venomous words that were bubbling up on your tongue, Ghost took his hand and gripped it tight with that soldier strength of his. Your ex seemed distraught as pain shot through his hand that was being crushed. Ghost didn’t let up. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t look down at my wife, doctor. I love her just the way she is. I’m sure she has accomplished much more than you as well.”

“Now, if you will excuse us, we have better things to talk about with other people.” Ghost finally let go, bruises already starting to form on the crushed hand of your ex. While you normally would pop off at him for standing up for you when you could’ve done so yourself, you were too busy thinking about his words. The L-bomb he dropped seemed to flow so naturally from him. It made you feel flustered. 

As Ghost led you away, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. He took your flustered expression as you being upset. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were upset with him or your ex-colleague. He knew he triggered your pet-peeve and he wanted to apologize. For now, though, he had to settle with a raincheck. “We’ll talk about that later. Do you see our target yet?”

You snapped back into action, being reminded that you have a mission to accomplish above all else. Looking around, you tried to spot the target. As predicted, there he was, gorging himself on shrimp and champagne. “10 o’clock.”

He looked over and confirmed. “Target spotted. Good eye. Ready?”

Taking a few deep breaths to reset your brain, you nodded. Swiftly, the both of you approach the target just as he was taking another flute from a silver tray. You changed your serious demeanor into a more graceful one. Someone worth giving money to. Someone that the target will like. “Mr. Marston. I was hoping to finally meet you tonight. I am Y/n Riley. This is my husband. You are such an inspiration to both scientists and investors.”

“Ha! A couple of fans with good taste! A pleasure to meet such a handsome couple! I’ve been in the business for a long time though, so I know you must want something. Can’t pull the wool over these eyes, even if they are old.” He laughed cheerfully as he raised more alcohol to his lips. 

It seemed that this would be easier than you thought. People like Mr. Marston made you sick. People with way too much time and money on their hands to shape the world as they saw fit, regardless of the good of the people. Nuclear war would be a disaster. And yet, this man treated it as lightly as the glass in his hand. Careless. Spilling over with each movement. Such a fragile thing away from one wrong move before shattering into a hundred pieces. 

“With age comes experience and wisdom. I am a scientist looking for an investor. Though my studies tend to be a little. . . unconventional.” You buttered him up before casting your line. All he had to do was take the bait.

And that he did. His eyebrows rose with interest at your choice of words. He felt his wallet burning a hole in his pocket. “Unconventional, you say? Well, I am all for out-of-the-box solutions to our world’s problems. Care to elaborate on your odd studies?”

You looked up at Ghost, awaiting some sort of signal that you may proceed with luring the target to where you needed him to be. He gave a single nod, disguising it as full support for his lovely wife. You were handling this much better than he expected. Or perhaps, this is how you always were under pressure. His judgment was always just too clouded with contempt to see it. 

“We would love to talk about our project, but such a thing is rather sensitive in nature. I would hate to upset some over-hearers. Perhaps we shall meet later once the formal is over?” You played cautiously, not yet reeling in such a loose bite. 

“Oh my, now you really have my interest! There are a few study spaces at this venue reserved for investors and scientist contract negotiations. I haven’t committed to any facility yet, so why don’t I start with reviewing you? What do you say?”

Hook, line, and sinker. “That would be most ideal, Mr. Marston. Just lead the way.”

Grabbing a few shrimps to go, the target led the way to a more private area of the venue. Everything was smooth, all according to plan. The crowd parted away for the richest investor here, making the exit quite swift. Once the three of you separated from the main event down to a much quieter room, Ghost detained him with cuffs. A button on his watch was pressed, signaling to the team that the target was in custody. 

“Wh-What?! What is all this now?!” Mr. Marston protested, hoping that someone would come to his rescue. 

“Lieutenant Ghost and Sargent Byte. You are being taken into military custody for involvement with nuclear investments. We just need to ask you some questions.” You explained carefully, trying to keep the target calm so you didn’t attract unwanted attention. Cool, calm, and collected. Ghost thought it was a good look on you. You weren’t normally involved like this, so he couldn’t help but think so. 

He had it worse than he thought. Seriously, what was with him?

While Ghost took his hands off the target for a moment to reach for his phone, feeling an incoming message, the target swirled around and tried to bolt. Not in the direction of an exit, though. Instead, he was running straight to you, binded fists raised to strike you. Thanks to your self-defense classes through the military, you acted on pure instinct. You dodged his fists and struck his jugular with a sharp strike of the side of your hand. He gasped for air and collapsed, tears streaming down his face as if he would die from the loss of oxygen. 

Ghost’s attraction to you increased tenfold as you nonchalantly fixed your dress like a meager wind just caused only slight agitation. He forgot just how capable you could be physically, not just intellectually.

Right on time, Price waltzed in wearing his common military uniform. He didn’t even bat an eye at the struggling target. “Transportation is outside. Well done, you two! It was about time you worked together on something. I hope to see more of this in the future!” 

You made some distance between you and Ghost, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea. For some reason, it pained Ghost to see you put up that wall again so soon after the mission. Was this the first and last time you would get along so well with him?

No, he decided. He told you that he would speak to you later about the interaction with Emmanuel. Then, he would knock your walls down. Finally get to know the real you.

From there, we can really determine if his feelings were just a fluke or not. 

~

You were back at the hotel, wiping your makeup off and stripping yourself out of the formal dress. Your muscles ache at the new freedom, having been fed up with such a fitted dress and heels. After showering and putting on some pajamas, you got into bed and began to read. You were rewarded for your work with a one-night’s stay at the luxury hotel, and you were taking full advantage of it. 

After reading, you were going to order hotel service and then go to bed. The life of luxury that was more than enough for you. As you began reading the next chapter of your book, you heard a knock at the door. Sighing, you bookmarked your page, and answered it. You were surprised to see Ghost standing there, smelling like fresh maplewood and citrus soap. A plain shirt clung to his torso and pajama pants made him look like a new man altogether. He had his black facemask on still, but once he let himself in, he took it off. 

This was the first time you have ever seen his full face uncovered. You noticed the small scar on his upper lip that matched the one on his right brow. His jaw was strong as if chiseled from marble. You couldn’t deny it. Ghost was a very attractive man.

“Sorry to barge in like this. I said we were going to talk, so here I am.” He explained, taking a seat on the edge of your king bed. He was drinking you in too. The pajama shorts that showed off your thighs, the cami that exposed your delicate shoulders. Your hair was still damp and scented with lavender and vanilla. His heart picked up speed as he felt a pull of attraction to you. 

How could he have ever hated a beautiful thing like you?

You found it a little rude that he just barged in, but you let it slide for once. From his tone, he didn’t seem like he wanted to fight. Besides, those deep blues were starting to melt your icy heart little by little. Just for tonight.

You took a seat on the bed next to him and looked up. “What is there to talk about? He’s just a man from my past.”

At that, he felt his muscles tense. He knew that there was more to the story. Ghost detected your evasion of the subject as clear as day. It was something he experienced nearly every day before this. He knew your tell. “I know it wasn’t just that. What he said, how you looked. What happened?”

Out of all people, you least expected Ghost to hound you about this. He has never been interested in your personal life before. Then again, your relationship has changed dramatically since the night in the lab. Before you knew it, you started to feel yourself open up to him a little. 

You stared down into your lap. “He’s an ex. We were interns together, he took all the credit for a project we did, he got a job, and I didn’t. He insulted me, dumped me, and then left. I left to work in the military. That’s really all there is to it.”

While your tone tried to keep it casual, Ghost knew it was really a tragedy. No wonder you didn’t trust easily. Now he wished he broke that guy’s hand when he had the chance. 

Did he really have room to talk though? He made you distrust people even more easily when he first met you. It was about time he apologized for it all. “Listen, Y/n. I’m sorry. About everything. For the two years of fighting. All the insults, all the exclusion. Everything. I should have been a better teammate, lieutenant, and even friend to you. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what to say, a new trick of his that seemed to have worked time and time again. The tick of a classic clock filled the silence as you thought about his apology. The sound of him using your real name echoed in your ears. You blamed him for everything that transpired. And now he was sorry about it. Yet, the way he looked at you didn’t indicate the need for forgiveness. He wasn’t entitled to it, and he knew that. Instead, his gaze was filled with certainty. The certainty to do much better by you from now on. 

Two years to lead up to this moment. You never thought you would live to see the day. Just like him, you slowly found your rage for him melt down to almost nothing, instead to be replaced by something soft, warm, and electric. 

You gave an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry too. I know I can be pretty unlikable.”

“You’re not unlikable.” He reassured, his hand naturally taking your cheek like he’s been doing it all his life. Ghost didn’t even realize that he did it at first. And before he knew it, he was going in for a kiss, unable to resist those pretty lips of yours for a moment longer. 

Your cheeks began to burn as he kissed you so suddenly, yet you didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. Something was pulling you deeper into him. A passion that was always there from the beginning. Hate or love, you have always been passionate about Ghost. Maybe that was why you truly hated him in the first place. 

Ghost couldn’t stop himself, deepening the kiss with each second that passed, reveling in how sweet you tasted on his lips. He’s been obsessed with you since the beginning. A fire within him had always burned for you. He just wished he realized that it was actually love much sooner. Perhaps if he did, you really would’ve been Mrs. Riley tonight. 

All the things he hated about you before were things he loved about you now. Your soft lips, your silky hair, your amazing intellect. All of the things that he could never match. You were better than him. However, he didn’t care anymore. He actually appreciated it now. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am.” He whispered as he pulled you closer, wrapping you in his embrace. You felt his firm muscles against you so much better now than before, the shirt he was wearing leaving little to the imagination with how fitted it was. 

It honestly turned you on. 

You took the initiative to reconnect your lips, your mouth opening to invite his tongue. Nerves fired off in every inch of your skin as his slick tongue met yours. Your toes curled as he felt you up, groping your thighs and waist like they would disappear any moment. His hands felt so good on you that you shivered, yearning for more. 

Things were getting out of control, but Ghost didn’t care. Tonight, he wanted you more than he has ever wanted anything from you. To appreciate all the things he was too stupid to notice before. You were sexy beyond belief. Always have been. When you were working over your desk with such a focused look, when you were gloating about your new invention, when you demonstrated a new gun so naturally in perfect stance. 

His pants tightened as his erection grew strong with each taste of your tongue. His hands roamed into your hair, gripping slightly to pull you closer. The both of you moaned when you ended up grinding against his hard cock. Once you got a taste for that, you couldn’t stop. Your hips grinded into his, sending earthquakes of pleasure through you. You could feel your panties get damper each minute as the makeout became even hotter and heavier. It wasn’t helping that it has been a while since the last time you had sex. It made you feel more sensitive than usual.

Finally, Ghost flipped you around and settled you back on the bed. He has never been so turned on in his life and you were the one doing this to him. 

There was something he needed to make clear first, though.

“I’m going to make you cum.” He promised, flashing you a determined look that had you weak. 

You blushed and averted your gaze, your voice low. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“I’ll do it. No matter how long it takes. I’m going to be the first man to make you cum tonight.” He reassured, gladly ignoring your warnings as he leaned down to kiss your lips again. As he took control of your tongue, his hands began to explore your skin under the shirt. You were unbelievably soft under his fingertips, delicate from your lack of experience on a battlefield. He now loved that about you. You didn’t need to be in the throws of battle to be part of the team. 

“You’re so soft, you know that?” He praised, deep rumbles of his voice making your brain turn into mush as it entered your ears. His kisses traveled to them, making you shiver uncontrollably as he softly bit down. 

He chuckled, a sound that was once always reserved for his male teammates unless he was making fun of you. Now, they teased you so pleasantly that your breath hitched. “Someone’s ears are sensitive. You like having them played with?”

Just as you were about to answer, he slid his hand up to touch your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you jump. “Ahh~! Ghost!”

“Call me Simon.” He demanded, yearning for the sound of his real name coming from you. It would be the first time you would call him by his real name. 

You played with it in your head, noting how foreign it felt just sitting on your tongue. Nonetheless, you gave him what he wanted. “S-Simon. . .”

“Again.” He encouraged, suppressing a shiver that traveled down his spine. It was like getting a dose of the sweetest drug. Fireworks exploding in his chest. He loved how his name sounded on your lips. 

“Simon. . .” You sighed as he peppered kisses all over your neck. Your cami was now raised up to reveal your chest, kisses traveling further and further down to taste all of you. As much as Simon wanted to fuck you already right then and there, he had a promise to keep. He had to take it slow and let it build up. He had to make you cum first.

He took a stiff nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around before taking it between his teeth in a gentle bite. His other hand twisted your other nub between his fingers. The way he tweaked them hard sent waves of pleasure through you, all the way down to your cunt that was still soaking your panties. It felt so good to have him touch you like this. You wanted more. 

Arching your back, you took your top off completely. Simon followed suit, stripping off his shirt and trailing his kisses down your stomach. As he felt your stomach on his lips, he buried his face deep into it. To think that he could’ve had this so much sooner if he was just nice to you from the beginning. “So soft. . .”

You squirmed a little under his slow, deep kisses to your body. No one has ever taken this much time on you before. All foreplay was pretty exclusive to your breasts or cunt with your previous partners. Simon was taking the time to appreciate your whole body. It felt so intimate. “Simon. . ?”

God, he loved it when you said his name. “Y/n?”

You were starting to like the sound of your name coming from him too. A blush swept across your cheeks. “You can be a little rougher.”

He smirked, this time making you tremble in excitement rather than rage. “Is that what you like? You like it a little rough?”

“I like the firmer sensation. Nothing too crazy.” You elaborated, always one to speak your mind even in a moment like this. If you were going to have sex with Simon Riley, if he wanted to make you cum, information like this was important.

Simon hummed against your skin, his hands working to pull off your pants. The vibrations made you sigh. Once your shorts and panties were off, he settled himself between your legs. Your dripping cunt was such a pretty sight. Pink, wet, and sweet. He bit the inside of your thigh, making you gasp in pleasure. “Like that? Is this what your previous partners did to you?” 

“N-No. . .” You admitted. Your previous partners never really listened to what you liked even if you told them straight-forwardly. At least not enough to get you to tremble like Simon did. It seemed like the man you hated before was really the best so far in bed. 

“Good. Their loss.” He murmured, biting down on your thighs soon after and leaving a deep love-bite. You bit your lower lip and whimpered, the sensation sending shockwaves. Simon kept going further and further down on you, relishing each time you moaned and quivered. He wanted more. He wanted to make you scream.

His lips latched onto your swollen clit, biting it between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. He tasted your nectar on his tongue, a taste that instantly made him addicted to it. You arched your back and grabbed his hair suddenly, silky soft strands feeling nice between your fingers. 

Just like he wanted, you moaned his name over and over again. His tongue kept lathering your clit firmly and with even strokes. Fingers prodded at your opening, spreading your wetness all over you until he was able to put two of his fingers inside. God, you were tight. 

“Ahh~! Right there, Simon!” You encouraged, your ability to speak your mind unwavering. Simone found that insanely attractive as he pushed his fingers in further and curled right at that spongy spot that was driving you crazy. His teeth pulled at your folds before being soothed with his tongue. Your clit twitched as he pressed his tongue up against it once more, all the while pumping his fingers into your soaked pussy. 

Your grip on his hair got tighter as he kept pushing you to the edge. The sensation made his own cock twitch under his clothes, making him press it up against the mattress to grind into. He wished it was your pussy he was grinding into already, but you were so close. He could feel it. You could feel it. 

He didn’t stop his pace. Strong, even, and slow. You tightened around his fingers each second, feeling the wave approach closer and closer. You could already tell that this was going to be a big one. Your first orgasm with a partner ever. 

Tilting your head back, you moaned louder and louder. You begged for more and more, praying to a god that Simon wasn’t just going to leave you hanging. Now that would be pure evil. The worst thing he could ever do to you. But he didn’t. He just kept nipping, sucking, biting, and licking to the point that your head was spinning. 

Before you could warn him, your vision saw white and you screamed. Simon could feel you suck in his fingers so tight that he smiled as he still landed kisses on your clit. Your legs trembled, aching to close or kick out the electricity that coarse through you. Your cum was spilling everywhere. All over his fingers down to his wrist, coating your thighs in a sweet glaze. 

While you tried to catch your breath, Simon licked up every drop. “How was that? Everything you thought it would be?

You looked down to see his eyes ablaze with victory and a sexy smirk on his lips. You sighed and nodded. “Credit where credit is due. That was really good.”

“Good. Because you’re not done yet.” He decided, already stripping off his pajama pants to reveal his rock hard erection. He was bigger than you expected, all that shit talk for two years making you believe that he was making up for something. But he was blessed with the girth, the length, and the look that you knew would be amazing.

He positioned himself between your legs, coating his length with your slick. Shivers started again as the tip rubbed against your clit. The both of you sighed, enjoying each other’s bodies to the fullest extent.

Suddenly, Simon pushed all of his cock into you, bottoming out within a second. You gripped the sheets tight in your fist as you cried out. He stretched you out so pleasurably, so fully. You’ve never felt so full in your sex life. 

Simon hissed as you clenched around him. “Fucking hell, you’re so tight. . .”

Slowly, he began to move. Long even strokes that rubbed every inch of you and him. As he looked down at you, face twisting into such a pleasurable expression, eyes only on him, he heard his heart beat in his ears. God damn, you were gorgeous. 

Your eyes widened as he came down for a kiss, his tongue taking full control while his hips remained steady. The sudden rush of the kiss and his cock reaching deeper made you scratch at his shoulders. He was eating up all of your moans like candy. 

“F-Fuck~! Simon, wait!” You begged, the sensation getting overwhelming with each deep thrust. He could feel you getting tighter. Wetter. He knew that you were getting close to another orgasm, and he wasn’t going to stop for a second.

He sat up and pushed your legs down by your thighs, spreading you wide open and making you take all of him as deep as you can. You clawed his hands as your climax approached even faster, Simon ignoring all of your cries for him to wait. The sounds of your wet sex echoed in the room along with your sensual moans, causing you to get even more aroused. Christ, his cock was so good!

You were plunged into an orgasm, your whole body quaking as you arched and screamed it out. Simon felt your pussy wrap tightly around him, trying to take everything from him before he was ready. It was dizzying how good your insides felt coiling around him. He loved how you soaked his dick and crotch full with your hot cum. 

Simon grabbed your thighs tight, squeezing hard and clenching his teeth while he tried to stop himself from climaxing too soon. He wanted to stretch this night out for as long as he could.

While you settled down from your second orgasm, you gazed up at Simon who was struggling to keep himself together. You lifted your arms and touched his strong, muscular chest that was shimmering in sweat. You could feel how hard his heart was beating under your fingertips. You could feel him twitch hard inside you, aching to fuck you again. Your body was weak, though. You didn’t know if you could last for much longer. Every nerve in your body felt like it was melting. “Si-”

“I know. Your body won’t stop shaking. Just until I cum, yeah?” He observed, fingers tracing your trembling curves.

At the idea of Simon cumming, your body regained new energy that you didn’t know you had. You wanted to see it. Feel it. You wanted to see your lieutenant crumble from the power of your body. “Fuck me then, Simon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. His hips went into overdrive, thrusting in and out of you with ease from all of your slick. You felt him hit that wonderful spot of yours that made you see stars over and over again, your body already on the edge once again. 

Simon picked you up off the bed and turned, settling you on his lap while he laid back. He didn’t relinquish any control, however. He just wanted to grope your delicious ass while he thrusted up inside you, hitting nice and deep. With the new view and new places to touch, he was losing his mind. 

You weren’t expecting this new position, but you didn’t reject it either. In fact, it felt heavenly. He hit that g-spot at just the right angle and you loved how he manhandled your butt so roughly. You liked how his eyes never looked away from your body, drinking it all in like the finest wine. From this position, you could feel his solid cock twitch inside of you.

Struggling yourself up, limbs feeling like jelly, you fell onto his chest, your tits pressing firmly into him. That sent him over the edge, his grip on your ass making his nails dig into your skin. Once you felt that first rope of cum enter you, you came for the last time.

Hot cum mixed together, making a mess out of the both of you. His chest fell and rose with heavy breaths, groans coming out with each rope he couldn’t hold back. Your tightening pussy wasn’t helping, milking him of everything to the point where he even felt tingles travel through him. Once he was finally done, he felt exhausted. 

You were exhausted too, your lungs struggling to regulate air flow. Your heart was beating so loud that it drained all other noises. Your body felt slightly numb from it all, your head getting fuzzy with each second. Simon wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as you both calmed yourselves. 

“That was. . .” He began, losing the right words to describe just how amazing that was. He’s had his fair share of sexual encounters, but never like this. No one could quite compare to you.

“Yeah. . .” You agreed, your eyes closing as you felt the afterglow take over. You felt the covers pull up over you, Simon still holding you on top of him, not willing to let go just yet. 

He could never imagine letting you go now. 

[multi-fandom31]

I 100 percent agree

the thing is that I don't think that jack and barbossa are fundamentally that different in terms of morals I think at the end of the day both of them would kill someone if necessary the difference is just that they have different ideas of when it is necessary thank you for coming to my ted talk

[cozage]

Headcanons please with the reactions of Luffy, Nami, Zoro and Sanji where sanji is sick, so reader volunteers to do the cooking until he feels better but reader is a HORRIBLE cook. Like reader will straight up serve them fish in cherry gelatine or something awful like that. Also can you make reader female and the s/o of each character in this scenario? Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N: I WROTE SOMETHING Characters: female reader x Luffy, Nami, Zoro Total word count: 1.7k

Stand In Cook

Luffy

“I’m STARVING!” Luffy screamed out, falling backward onto the deck with a groan.

“Luffy, we told you already! Sanji is sick right now, and I’m not cooking for you every thirty minutes!” Nami stood over him, staring down at him in irritation. “Either you make something yourself or you don’t eat!”

“I’ll cook something, Luffy,” you offered softly. “What are you hungry for?”

Nami shot you a look. “You’re going to regret that offer,” she grumbled. With a roll of her eyes, she strolled off and left you to the rest of it. 

You almost regretted the offer, but Luffy’s arms were around you, swinging you around with glee. “I love you! I love you so much!”

You squealed in shock and delight, begging for him to put you down. 

“Okay I really want a chocolate milkshake,” Luffy said. “And also a really big piece of meat! And-”

“Let’s start with that,” you said quickly. You barely knew how to cook, and you didn’t want to overwhelm yourself on the first meal you’d be preparing for him. 

You pulled yourself out of his grasp and went to the kitchen. “You wait out here. I’ll be back shortly.”

In the kitchen, you were completely out of your element. You had found where Sanji had kept the food, but he didn’t seem to be in possession of a single cookbook. You’d just have to guess. 

You found a piece of steak that you could only hope Sanji wasn’t saving for something special, and grabbed a few random seasonings: salt, cinnamon, annatto, basil, cayenne pepper, dill, and elderflower. You were only familiar with a few, but you figured it was the best you could do. 

You measured out 1 tablespoon of each and mixed them together, adding some milk to give it a paste-like texture, and then poured it over the slab of meat laying on the tray.Then, you threw it in the oven for…20 minutes sounded good. You weren’t sure how much longer Luffy would be able to wait. 

While you waited for the meat to cook, you started to work on the chocolate shake Luffy had asked for. 

Sanji had always shown you strange bean pods whenever he was making chocolate. But nothing in his pantry was labeled, so you grabbed a handful of a few different beads and threw them into a blender. Then you added a pinch of sugar and milk. Surely it wouldn’t be too bad, right?

When the timer for the oven rang out, Luffy bounded into the kitchen. His eyes were wide with excitement and you pulled out the slab of meat. The smell was…well, it smelled far different than anything Sanji had prepared, but perhaps it was just a different style of cooking than his. 

Luffy was bouncing up and down as he waited for you to place the meat in front of him, trying his best to adhere to table manners. But the moment you let go of his plate, he picked up the meat with his bare hands and tore into it. 

The tears in his eyes made you step back. Perhaps you had gone overboard on the spices, or…well, anything could be wrong, honestly. You weren’t a cook. You were just trying your best to serve something up to your hungry boyfriend. 

Luffy cried out, his mouth still stuffed with food. “I’m making you the new cook for the ship! Sanji can take your job!”

You gave a nervous laugh. “Luffy, that’s not-”

“I’m serious! I only want you to cook for me!” He gave you a toothy grin that melted your heart. 

You rolled your eyes. He was certainly laying on the flattery a bit thick. You knew you weren’t a good cook, but you also knew Luffy wasn’t picky. 

“You know, this is the second best thing I think I’ve ever tasted,” he said, licking the plate clean. 

“And what is the first?”

His eyes got a fiendish glow to them, and he gave you a little smirk as he stretched out his and pulled you into his embrace, kissing your lips. “You.”

Nami

“I wish Sanji would hurry up and stop being sick!” Nami griped. “I’m not used to going this long without food!”

“I could whip us up something small,” you offered, starting to rise from your seat next to her. 

Your girlfriend grabbed your hand, her eyes wide. “Darling,” she gave a light laugh. “You know I love you. But…you can’t cook.”

You scoffed. “I can get something small, Nami-dear. Sanji has been teaching me a few things!”

She saw right through your lie, but she sighed and released your hand. “Something small. Like ice cream, or strawberries.”

“You got it! I can do that!”

You could not do that. As you stood staring in the refrigerator, you knew it would have to be something simple. You considered a fruit platter, but that wasn’t exactly cooking for your beloved, was it? And Nami deserved something fun, just like she was. 

Chocolate-covered strawberries. That wouldn’t be too hard. You’d have to make the chocolate, but you had seen Sanji do it a thousand times in just a few minutes. It couldn’t be too difficult. 

Except nothing in his damn pantry was labeled. It’s almost like he didn’t want anyone messing with his food. 

You couldn’t find anything that remotely looked like chocolate, but you had seen him scrape out some beans and add milk to them over the stove, so that was a good place to start. 

You grabbed a handful of beans and began opening them to scrape them off into the saucepan. It didn’t look exactly like Sanji’s, but after you had mashed them up, it was starting to look somewhat right. 

You threw a handful of strawberries onto the plate and covered them with the sauce, and then took them onto the deck to Nami. 

She took one glance before gagging. “What is that?!”

“Strawberries!”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. You couldn’t blame her. Something was off, but you had no idea what.

“Just try one, Nam.”

She turned her nose away. “Absolutely not. Give it to Luffy.”

“Nami! Try it!” you begged, but you were starting to agree with her. Nothing looked right about this. “Actually…”

Before you could say any more, Nami let out a dramatic sigh, grabbed a strawberry, and threw it in her mouth. 

And then immediately spit it out. And started gagging. 

“What…the hell…did you put…in that?” she choked out between coughs. 

“I did what Sanji does!” you said, trying to defend yourself from the assault you knew was coming. 

She was too busy rubbing her tongue on her sleeve to say anything else. You were half tempted to try one yourself, just to see if she was being overdramatic, but you were too scared to know the truth. 

Once you had finished coughing and gagging, she finally shot a glare at you. “Darling, you know I love you. But if you ever try to poison me again, I will throw you overboard.”

Zoro 

Sanji was sick. Zoro was almost done with his workout, which meant he would need his post-workout meal. But Sanji was sick. 

So it was up to you. Thankfully Luffy and Ussopp were asleep, and everyone else was out of your hair. It was just you and the kitchen. 

Rice Balls were his favorite. So that's what you would make. It was pretty easy, from what you remember. You had watched your mother make them every day when you were a child. 

So you started boiling water, and then dumped the rice in. You added some random seasoning you found in the cupboard, and mixed it all together. And then you waited. 

And finally, after all the pots were cleaned and the rice had been shaped into some rather mushy rice balls, you took them up to Zoro. 

He eyed them, as if he could tell something was different. You were hoping he wouldn’t notice the change until he bit into them. 

“The cook in a piss mood?” he asked, taking a bite of the ball that was starting to fall apart in his hand. 

His eyes bulged as the taste hit him, and it took him a moment before he could swallow. “That shitty cook is trying to kill me! He’s going to get-”

“Actually,” you piped in sheepishly. “I made them.”

His eyes narrowed as he tried to decipher your words and if they held any truth. “You made them?”

You shrugged. “I’m not much of a cook, I know. Sanji was sick, and I knew you needed to eat, so…”

He took another bite, and you could see the effort it took for him to swallow it. “It’s good,” he said.

You let out a light laugh. “You don’t have to lie, Zoro.”

“I’m not!” He took another bite, cringing as the food touched his tongue. “See, it’s good.”

“You’re lying!” You tried to grab the plate from him, but he held it away. “Zoro, you don’t have to eat it!”

You tried to grab the food so you could throw it into the ocean, but Zoro always jumped out of your reach, narrowly evading you until he took the last bite. 

It wasn’t until later, when the two of you were lounging on the deck, that he stood abruptly, his face as green as his hair, and ran to the bathroom. 

“I knew it was bad,” you said as he returned, curling up next to you.

“It was fine.” He curled into your back, pressing his warm body against you. “Just got seasick.”

“You did not!”

“Your rice was…a new and interesting flavor.”

You laughed at his attempt to be honest. “You’ve eaten rice off the ground, I’d hardly call you a critic.”

He groaned. “The dirt rice was better.”

 “Zoro!” You pulled away and turned to face him “Was it really?”

He pulled you into his arms and plopped a kiss on your cheek, trying to sooth his scalding words. “I’m joking, you know that. I’ll eat your food anytime.”

You smiled and leaned into his chest. “Let’s hope we don’t have to anytime soon.”

“Agreed.”

[eldritch-spouse]

Morell with an obsession who’s afraid of one specific kitchen appliance. Meat grinder? Fine. Screams of a human being chopped apart? Whatever. Morell touched the blender? Other side of the kitchen under a table like a dog and a vacuum

" Pumpkin... Piglet... "

The shroom sighs, crouched near the counter you have unceremoniously crammed yourself into like a frightened gerbil. He's been trying to coax you out for a hot minute, his team of bobbles is also fascinated by this scene.

Turnip is waving a breadstick in your general direction as bait, and the blues are looking at the blender like it holds some unknowable dark secret. Why else would you react that way?

" Sugarpie, tha blender can't hurt ya... It's got glass an' the lil' lid on it. " He waves at the mechanical horror contraption. " No chance them blades hurtin' anyone! " Well, if he doesn't want them to, that is.

You aren't fooled, you've seen what those things can do.

" Babycakes, this is ridiculous. "

Morell's patience wanes, a meaty arm reaches in to try and pull you out, but you manage to flatten harder against the wall, wailing like you never have before. He has poked a knife at your bellybutton and gotten less of a response.

" How 'bout this, hm? Next time, ya put yer hands over ya ears, an' ya look away? " He pauses. " I'll warn. Promise. "

Turnip has managed to climb onto the table and is now dangling the breadstick right about the top of the blender. " Oh no Ms.Piglet! If you don' come out, the blender's gonna eat your breadstick!! "

" Cut it out, Turnip. "

You can see the bobble deflate in real time. " Aww... "

At a complete loss, the chef resorts to the one trick he used to do for his little cousins when they were afraid of something completely trivial. He shuffles around for the post-it blocks and grabs a sheet, fetching the marker out of his apron and covering the blender as he works.

When his broad figure moves out the way, a smiley face has been taped to the blender. " Look, he likes ya. "

You scoot out of your shelter like a cautious crab.

He can't fucking believe this worked. You're not okay.

The rest of the bobbles are now putting smiley faces on various kitchen appliances.

" SIR, what are we gonna call him?! "

[ladysomething]

no snippets on snippet Wednesday? 🥺

I truly-truly in love with little developments, must’ve reread the last chapter 10 times over…

Thank you for your tireless work!!!

I can’t tell, did you guys want a snippet?? 😂

Here, have an extra long one!

With this being the last meal before Max leaves, Charles takes it into his own hands.

He still can’t hear anything from Max’s room when he passes by the closed door to go upstairs, but he gets started anyway because it’s now almost half past eight.

Aware that Max is probably going to be the hungriest he’s been now that his rut is so close, he chops up all the fruit he can find. Bananas, strawberries, melon, grapes, oranges. He puts three croissants in the oven to warm up—one for him and two for Max—and scrambles eggs. He pours them both some juice, but makes Max a smoothie as well. The only meat Charles can find is chicken, so he grills that as well.

When Max comes upstairs, there are circles under his eyes, he’s got on two sweaters, and there’s a stack of paper under his arm.

“Morning,” he says carefully, eyeing all the food Charles has piled high. “Looks . . .”

The fruit is oddly shaped and mushy from his terrible cutting; the tops of the croissants are burnt; the eggs are cold and rubbery; the chicken is dry; there are smoothie chunks everywhere from when he’d tried to add more milk to the blender without stopping it.

The only thing that looks good is the juice, which he poured straight from the carton.

Charles pulls his lip between his teeth, cheeks pink.

“No, it looks good!” Max says quickly.

Great. It looks so bad that Max, the bluntest person he knows, is lying.

“I tried really hard,” Charles defends weakly.

It’s not really like Max can cook so much better than him—most of their meals are still pre-made, and supplemented with food that's easy to make. Still, even Max has never butchered heating a croissant.

“It’s fine, Charles,” Max promises. “I haven’t even eaten any yet.”

Charles tries to fight his pout, but it doesn’t quite work because Max circles the counter and puts his hand on his elbow.

“No, see, it’s fine,” he repeats, reaching out to pick up a croissant as he squeezes Charles’ arm.

His face twists a little as crispy, burnt flakes of croissant drop everywhere, but he still swallows his mouthful. Charles doesn’t believe him at all, but there’s nothing he can do now except throw it all out, which he doesn’t want to do.

Max seems determined to eat it anyway, so they both carry it all outside into the sun. Charles sits in the shade while Max sits directly in the sunlight, glasses perched on his nose.

The food is far from good, but it's edible, and Max eats it all like he can barely taste it anyway. Charles was right—he is clearly the hungriest he’s been, and he eats everything, even all the fruit that Charles was sure he’d need to store away.

Charles eats far less, but watches on, pleased with Max’s satisfaction when he leans back in his chair and stretches his arms above his head.

His shirt pulls up, revealing a patch of pale skin and the waistband of his underwear. Charles doesn’t even realise he’s staring until Max slumps back down, shirt falling back to cover him.

It’s getting warm out here, Charles decides, pressing the back of his hand to his cheek to cover his flush.

“I brought the contract up,” Max says after a moment, putting his hand on top of the stack of papers he’s brought with him. “If you still want to read it.”

Charles reaches over the table eagerly and Max simply hands it over, though there’s still a large stack of paper left on the table.

The Mating Rights and Exclusive Access to the Omega, Charles Leclerc.

It’s thinner than he remembers it being.

[rotten7rat]

Batfamily + Cooking

Alfred:

He's the main cook, and has been since taking the job as the Wayne's butler. Classically trained in the culinary arts, and thankfully stillvery much enjoys it, though not as much as he used to. He likes baking more than cooking, and has gotten more of a sweet tooth as he's gotten older. Leans more on your classic British dishes, but is always happy to try a requested recipe. Prefers to cook either alone or with competent help.

Bruce:

No. Cannot even be trusted to make a grilled cheese, he always burns them.

Barbara:

Pretty good. Very much a 'throw something together at 7:30, eat at 8' kind of person, but everyone is always happy to have what she cooks. If it takes hours to make then its not worth it. A teacher suggested once that being raised by a single father, she must do most of the cooking and cleaning, and after that she refused to learn how to cook out of sheer stubbornness.

Dick:

An excellent cook. I think it comes naturally to him, he didn't spend much time cooking growing up but once he taught himself the basics he can pretty much throw anything together. Its by no means a passion of his, but he does enjoy it. However, he doesn't cook often due to being too busy and/or tired, so he gets a lot of takeout or just has something quick or microwavable very often. But if he's cooking you best be there. Anything can be a social occasion and he happily accepts help in the kitchen. Not great at baking though, he always manages to over-cook or over-mix.

Cassandra:

I'm sorry but she will throw rice, water, and and an unseasoned chicken breast in the rice cooker and call it a night. Either that or she'll have a protein shake and seven eggs.

Jason:

Quite good. Unlike Dick, it doesn't come naturally to him, but he is a fast learner and picked it up mostly from Catherine, Alfred, and YouTube. That being said, would he prefer tortellini en brodo or four boxes of Kraft mac and cheese? Tamales or something quick and greasy from Bat Burger? Its always the second option. I think he often cooks as a distraction or just something to do, and just gives it to the single mother across the hall or throws it in the freezer to eat a week later.

Stephanie:

Decent. She'll see a recipe on TikTok and will try it instantly, and she's always excited to try something new. Works best with a recipe but decides just to wing it mostly. Cooking with her mother has become somewhat of a bonding activity. Really good at baking, especially things like brownies and cookies. However, she will also throw pickles, peanut butter and ice cream in a blender and swear it tastes fantastic. Is learning to cook more because everytime she sees Cass eating a boiled chicken breast she takes psychic damage. Trying to sneak meat alternatives into Cass without her noticing. It worked once.

Tim:

Not great. Will follow the recipe to the letter and will somehow still fuck it up. He mostly sticks to simple recipes that are hard to mess up, and also just doesn't have the desire to spend heaps of time in the kitchen. He does make a mean sandwich though, every time someone tries to replicate one its just never as good.

Duke:

Doesn't particularly enjoy cooking but he's fine at it. Not as bad as Cassandra, he will season his food, but prefers it to be quick and not complicated. Loves heavier foods like pastas and other carbs but doesn't have the patience or desire to make them from scratch so he uses jar sauces, frozen potatoes etc. Will put taco seasoning on everything.

Damian:

Good eventually. Doesn't cook a lot now, but when he was younger he had a kind of 'well obviously its not difficult, its just cooking' mindset. He was humbled. By Dick. I think when he's older he is much better. Will still follow a recipe so it is perfect every time. It isn't a hobby, just a task that must be completed, but he'll be damned if he's eating bland food, he will spend an hour preparing vegetable tagine. Nobody can help of even be in the kitchen with him while he is cooking, because they are breathing all the kitchen air and taking up all the room. Get out.

[rottenpumpkin13]

What do you think Sephiroth’s diet is like? His metabolism coupled with his stature makes me think he’d be eating at least 6,000 calories and a crap ton of protein. I could just imagine him putting a whole chicken in a blender and liquidating it then throwing it back like a shot. (Inspired by what actors/bodybuilders say they do to get in shape for a role or competition.)

Sephiroth's diet is well known and marketed by Shinra to sell their protein supplements and dietary products. His diet emphasizes a high protein intake and a balanced array of natural foods, vitamins, and calories to maintain his build. Hojo ensures Sephiroth follows his diet by having him log his daily food intake. Sephiroth doesn't mind his diet, for the most part. It's strict, and he's grown used to it, but he also enjoys all the meals.

The problem is that Sephiroth's appetite is heavily influenced by his emotions, and too much stress causes him to lose his his appetite completely. Also, the independence he gained after moving from the labs and into his own apartment changed his diet completely, because now he has the freedom to, say, order takeout and keep an entire gallon of chocolate milk in his fridge.

So the things Sephiroth eats when he's not lying to Hojo include:

• He once ate nothing but sushi for a month and to this day nobody knows how he didn't get mercury poisoning.

• No, he's not obsessed with pasta. He enjoys his favorite food like any other person—eating 23 servings at once.

• Blessed be instant noodles and the cupboard space Sephiroth has to store them.

• "A chocolate bar is a meal, Angeal, judging one's dinner is distasteful."

• Forgetting to eat due to existential dread™

• "If I throw this burger into a bowl, it becomes a salad."

• You'd be surprised at what a person can do with a fork, fire materia, and a pack of marshmallows.

Genesis: I see you're having your protein shake of the day.

Sephiroth: You fool. This is a milkshake.

• "Red meat is unhealthy" too bad he'll eat an entire 80oz steak on his own.

• Coffee for breakfast, lunch and dinner until Angeal finds out and forces him to eat a meal.

• Angeal's katsu curry and Genesis' apple pie are the reason he believes in friendship.

[lazymonth]

Yah i'm 5'2. but im still taller than Turbo, so i can use the funny technique

where i pick him up under his arms and just start spinning as fast as possible /j

or stick him in those kid swings and leave him there /j

LMAOOO That’s so funny and adorable at the same time 🤲🏼💖 Turbø is such a tiny guy, that’s why I adore him sm ( Put him into the meat blender )

Oh yeah, if you’re wondering ( or not ). Turbø in my HC is 3’5” ( or 104 cm. ) and KC is also the same height as him.

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

Helloo

Ur nefero fics are soo good😙 Could you write something like maybe how much he worships reader?? Thank uu<3

Great minds think alike bestie I'd love to write this sooo here we go!

__________________________________________

Male Nefera x fem! Reader

Prompt: Nefero but he's just worshiping you

She her pronouns

Fluff/kissing/female worship/

Image not mine found in pinterest

(I'm obsessed this is literally how he sees you full goddes)

__________________________________________

Nefero looks at you with adoring eyes as you talked about the book you had just finished,eyes lit up,hands moving all around for emphasis on a specific part of the story that you said in I quote "was the most unrealistic thing ever" you keep talking/rambling off to your boyfriend at your table in the (just them since he liked days where it was just the two of you).

[Name] let out a frustrated sigh as she finished speaking "like it's totally crazy right Nefie?" You stopped waiting for his response "yes very" he nodded his head hoping you'd continue talking till your heart's content "thank you ugh, you get me" then she continued for the remaining lunch time while taking breaks to actually eat.

"Is there something on my face?" [Name] asked, quickly getting out a small mirror "No your fine, my jewel excuse my rudeness" he sets down the mirror from your hands and took it; placing it back in your purse "oh well that's okay, I love when you stare though please tell me i have nothing on my face next time haha" the ghoul looked away sheepishly "it's always nice to know you still look at me that way really" she said earnestly "I'll always admire your beautiful self,all day if you asked me too" Nefero took her hand in his smiling wide "hehe you got smile lines Nefie" "WHAT?!"

In their class Nefero is yet again looking at [Name] with heart shaped pupils in his purple eyes, he watched as you reapplied your lip gloss "so you like this color on me?" You turn your head to him and pointed at the lip gloss bottle and then your lips ``it looks absolutely Divine on you my queen" he told you sincerely

The two walk out of school the day had finished and now it was time to get you home "are you gonna stay home with me? I'm making dinner today" you asked your boyfriend looking at his hands intertwined "of course my jewel but I need to go home and change first" [Name] looked at him perplexed "but I have some of your clothes at my house, why not shower and change there?" She tilted her head "my jewel you only have my shirts not pants or shorts" he teased

"Ohhh haha right" she looked to the side "maybe I should steal your pants so you won't have to go and change" "What?" [Name] looked at him "Well if I have some of your clothes other than shirts you won't have to be apart from me! Plus we could shower together, did you know that can save our water bill" you tried to play it off with some "statistics"

Nefero held your face in his hands smirking at you;making your face feel hot"My dear we can do that anytime you wish no need for an excuse" he leaned in and kissed your lips gently,you hummed through the kiss then separated making Nefero pout "oh stop you big baby let's get going so you can change quickly at your house and take me to mine" "but don't you have to start dinner?"

"Nah my parents won't be home till late I have time" you explain " now come on I wanna choose your outfit" taking his hand [Name] dragged him to his limo

_________________________________

[Name] is seen in her kitchen cooking up a meat stew and some rice she wears a "kiss the cook" apron which happens a lot when Nefero is around so she thought why not buy it

She hums along the song on the radio as she puts in a some herbs in the stew and then stirred it thoroughly

Nefero is at the stool of the kitchen island sipping at the strawberry smoothies he made for the both of you with your blender "it smells incredible my jewel" he compliments, [Name] turns around with a smile "would you like to try the stew?" He eagerly nods anything you make was bound to be heavenly he felt so lucky he gets to try it first "Alright here" your bring a soup spoon to his lips and he opens his mouth and swallowing the the liquid gold, it was savory and spicy the meat was tender and with the potatoes, corn, and carrots made all the better.

"Ahhh that is absolutely exquisite" he looks into your eyes with a smile as he leans forward making a move to kiss you and you obliged "muaw!" You gave him a quick kiss dramatically sounding it, he immediately pouted "I want an actually kiss" you sighed and go around towering over him seductively "oh really?" He nodded again

"Alright only cause you asked" you lean down grabbing his collar and pulled him into a deep kiss, he opened his mouth and let you in, moaning as you dominated his tongue then you let him go "there" you panted " *deep exhale* thank you my queen" Nefero wraps his arms on your hip and leans his head onto your stomach while he's still sitting down.

[Name] ruffles his hair up giggling at his cuteness "of course my king" you stayed like that for a few more minutes until you said you had to check on the food which he whined but let you go

He can't help the way your presence makes him feel giddy with excitement, the smell of your sweet perfume, holding you in his embrace, bodies squished together, hearing your heartbeat as he rests his head on your chest at night.

"You look absolutely gorgeous" he said all of a sudden at the dinner table as you ate in comfortable silence "really?" Nefero nodded "you do and I just can't help saying it, in fact it's my duty to tell you any time I see fit, which to be frank is all the time" [Name] looked at him bewildered as if this was a new thing

Yet it wasn't but still it warmed your heart he still looked at you that way for a moment you didn't say anything then with a smile you responded "thank you, my love it means alot that you still admire me like this" she admitted "my queen" he held her hand "I cannot fathom a second in my life where I don't worship your entire being, it's in my nature to do so, for only you"

He lifted her hand and kissed it then continued up until he was met only inches away from her face, looking at her eyes [Name]'s breath hitch then Nefero kissed her cheek gently "would you let me worship you tonight my queen" he said above a whisper "well..." she looked at the clock "they won't be here in about another 6 hours..." she thought about it then looked at him patiently waiting 'why not' [Name] got up and dragged him by the sleeves and up to her bedroom "Let's see how much worship I can get you to say, that suddenly it sounds like a prayer~"

____________________________________________

I feel conflicted with this one, I like the way I wrote it but idk if it truly captured the promt but I feel like this is better than what I write previously

I tried my best but head empty no thoughts I guess, still hope you like it maybe I'm just having imposter syndrome

[niiwa-angel]

Blitz "burns everything" Buckzo and Stolas "raised with staff" Goetia are going to be so fucking bad at cooking when they get together. I think Blitz is better at it, just because he's had practice but he literally almost set his kitchen on fire in Full Moon trying to make pancakes so I'm not holding out hope for him.

Stolas: darling? Is it supposed to be smoking?

Blitz, literally just trying to boil water: that's normal.

~~~

Stolas, crying at the counter.

Blitz: What's wrong?

Stolas: nothing, it's just these onions.

Blitz, pulling his gun: the fuck did you say to my boyfriend??

~~~

Stolas: is your oven calibrated?

Blitz: probably?

~~~

Stolas: do you leave the circle on the bottom of the pizza when you cook it?

The circle in question: cardboard.

~~~

Loona: is something burning?!

Stolas: I'm afraid I'm having a hard time roasting this hell beast.

Loona, looking in the oven: why the fuck aren't you using a cooking pan?!

~~~

Blitz: look, we're in a rush, everybody is having smoothies for breakfast.

Blitz, pouring coffee, cereal, burned bacon, fruit, and maple syrup into the blender.

Octavia: 💀

~~~

Stolas: why does it smell in here?

Blitz: you forgot to take the plastic off the potatoes before putting them in the oven. It's okay, I picked most of it off.

~~~

Casserole dish full of black concrete on the counter.

Octavia: how the hell did you do this??

Stolas: I swear it was a liquid when I took it out of the oven.

~~~

Blitz: this meat was getting a little green but I cut the green bits off, so it's fine.

~~~

Stolas: are baking powder and baking soda the same thing?

Blitz: probably.

~~~

Eventually, Octavia just signs them up for family cooking classes because she's sick of risking her life everytime they have a family meal.

(most of these situations are ones that have ACTUALLY happened. I wish I were joking)

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: cooking with zb1

a/n: i’m not the greatest cook myself so apologies if some of this is terribly misinformed, but i can bake okay (during quarantine i’d bake when in class sooo)

notes: yujin is not included due to his age!

wc | 1.4k

jiwoong is a monster when it comes to cooking, but NOT baking. give this man a grill and a slab of meat and you have a masterpiece, but give him a mixing bowl and a recipe and he’s clueless. as such, assuming you’re a good baker, you and jiwoong are the perfect summer barbecue couple, and the ideal dinner party couple. but, i think the real fun is when you make jiwoong bake with you—you offer as much help as you can, but let him take the wheel. he can make it through brownies and cookies, but his weakness is bread—he doesn’t like how long he has to wait. he also doesn’t understand why he has to punch the dough???? i also think he doesn’t understand why you need to make it yourself when you can just go to the store…and when you say you can buy cookies at the store too, he says it’s “different.” okay then!

zhang hao is a princess and therefore does not cook or bake. and, when he does, it is a meal only HIS taste buds enjoy…my reference is whatever he was doing in camp zb1 with that soup. the nice thing is that he loves whatever you make, no matter what it is. you could put slop in front of him and, as long as it was constructed by you, he would eat the entire bowl. hao feels very loved when you cook him a meal or bake him a little treat, especially when he comes home to it. there’s no better feeling (in his opinion) than opening the front door and immediately smelling a batch of cookies cooling on the kitchen counter. because he’s far from home, i think hao will feel especially warm when he comes home to you making any sort of food he had often back home—so perhaps give his mom a call and ask for some recipes.

sung hanbin can’t cook very well, but can bake okay! perhaps you’ll be gifted some cold toast from time to time, but at least it comes with the opportunity to look at his face. but, if you ask hanbin for a fun drink … THAT is a different story. sung hanbin is the god of fun drinks, so if you’re a beverage person, he’s the exact right guy for you to date. he has a million fancy drink tools in his kitchen (an espresso machine, a high-tech blender that costs an arm and a leg, etc) and can make you anything you want. he also can make a MEAN shirley temple, which is an essential quality in a person. hanbin’s absolute favorite thing to do though is have you bake some fun dessert that he can make the perfect drink to pair it with—whether it be bitter coffee or a sweet smoothie, it brings him a lot of joy. it also brings him a lot of joy to enjoy both of the creations with you while you tell him all about how your week went.

matthew can do everything in the kitchen. say what you will, but MAN, matthew can make a MEAL. i mean the fries he made on camp zb1 looked so delicious and he straight-up did that himself. i think your favorite pastime in a relationship with matthew is watching him cook because he will roll up his sleeves and chop away at whatever he’s making, making the muscles come out. especially if he’s dealing with anything that might be sort of tough, and he often is because he likes to show off—if you ask him to make you an apple pie, he will rip the apples in half in front of you. i also think he likes to narrate what he’s doing like he’s on a cooking show, and will proceed to tell you that there’s going to be a test on what he taught the next day. matthew loves cooking for you, so make sure you let him know that you love what he cooks with a kiss on the cheek and a big “thank you” :)

taerae is decently good at both. he’s not exactly the best cook or the number one baker, but he knows enough to make some good food. i think he’d prefer cooking/baking with you rather than by himself, and you pretty much do, too. one of you will pick a recipe and assign tasks to the other, whether it be chopping up a carrot or grating some cheese. sometimes, he’ll jokingly pretend like he’s gordon ramsey and sarcastically joke about how “bad” you are at skinning the potato, and other times he will shout these bizarre “you’re doing great!” messages while he’s trying not to burn himself taking something out of the oven. then, when you’re close to finishing the food, you’ll sometimes throw together an easy dessert, like brownies or mug cakes, which will be done right as you finish eating. together, the two of you can make pretty good meals!

ricky is solidly okay at cooking, and not as okay at baking. i don’t think it’s intrinsic to him, though, he just never really tried to teach himself how to do either. he can boil water and make himself instant noodles, but he’s not crafting a perfectly cooked salmon over the most delicious rice you’ve ever had. there are other things ricky would instead dedicate himself to, like dancing or upgrading his wardrobe, so he’s never tried to upgrade his cooking skills. in fact, he’s kind of glad he never did, because now he can force you to teach him all that he wants to know. he basks in the light of your complete attention as you help him peel a potato, your hands over his as you drag the peeler across the vegetable. then, when you finish the meal, he revels in your praise as you compliment his “newfound skills” in pasta making. just make sure not to tell him you know what he’s doing.

i think gyuvin would be good at both!! judging by his snack bag, he cares a lot about yummy food and thus can carry himself in the kitchen. although, i think he’d be a lot better at baking than cooking. it’s just easier to follow a recipe to a t, and once you teach yourself how to gauge whether or not something is over-mixed, it’s smooth sailing from there. from soft and custardy lemon bars to hard-headed creme brulee, gyuvin loves gifting you with little sweet treats every week. when you were in high school, he’d bake you a treat and give it to you every friday, loving how your eyes would light up at the sight of his mom’s purple tupperware. in particular, i think gyuvin would be a good cake baker, and he absolutely goes all out for your birthday. flowers crafted with icing, any flavor your heart desires, and the most beautiful array of candles he could find—it makes you happier than you can describe. and then he gets you a super lame gift because he spent all his money on cake supplies lol

gunwook is a cook, but decidedly not a baker. his specialties happen to be any sort of stir fry and really good instant noodles, and his weaknesses are anything that requires him to stick a knife in to check if it’s done. he refuses to learn how to bake, too, because the idea that he isn’t immediately good at something terrifies him to the core and makes him feel a little sick to his stomach. the thing is, though, you don’t even know gunwook is a terrible baker for at least a year of your relationship. you automatically assume he can bake yummy cookies just from how delicious the meals he makes for you are. so, when you ask him to make you cookies and he says no almost instantly, you’re absolutely shocked—and then he lets it slip that he can’t bake for the life of him. you then learn that he hates it when you bring it up, so you stay quiet and let him sulk on his own, enjoying the taste of his yummy pork stir fry.

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee @wtfhyuck

[possessionisamyth]

exactly one person asked for a men's list when it came to my cooking headcanons list for the ladies so here ya go!

Chris Redfield- Actually a decent home cook because he was old enough to want to give Claire some of their mom's cooking when he could. Unfortunately, any time he tries a new recipe for the first time he burns it. The second or third time things come out fine, but the first time he does something new he's opening windows to let out the pan smoke or returning to coals in the oven.

Barry Burton- His wife does all the cooking as he's hopeless in the kitchen, but since they got married she's never had to wash a single dish. He always made sure there's a working dishwasher in their house for when he's away too long to do his usual chore.

Albert Wesker- Can make the fanciest looking food in the world. We're talking Michelin star $100 a plate in appearance only. His dishes have zero flavor. They taste. No one understands how this happens.

Leon Kennedy- Breakfast King. I know the line in damnation is too overused, but breakfast is actually the easiest way to start learning how to cook. Box mix pancakes, bacon, sausage, and eggs, all require him to put something in a pan on low to medium heat with some oil and poke it around until it's done. There's little effort exerted in monitoring since that's half his real job anyway. Of course it translates to cooking. He's perfected the timing. Everything else is take-out though.

Carlos Oliveira- He had no idea how to cook until he got out of Raccoon City and went home to his family. He tried learning from his mama, but she'd always take the knife or pan from him, so he learned from a sibling and is pretty good at it. He makes a lot of marinades, so the blender is his friend.

Luis Serra Navarro- Absolutely under no circumstances does this man belong in a kitchen. He will concoct the most wretched smelling health food that's full of vitamins, minerals, and "a healthy dash of vinegar for flavor". He's wonderful to have at the dinner table, but never at the stove. Makes a real tasty cup of coffee though.

Jack Krauser- For some ungodly reason, this man can take someone's most hated foods and make them taste good. No idea what the hell he does to it as he will kick everyone out of the kitchen until he's done, but he's just like that. Barely cooks not because he hates it, but because he has to be in the mood.

Piers Nivans- He's the king of the grill. Will lecture anyone in earshot about the important difference between gas, charcoal, or wood when it comes to maintaining the flavor of the meat. He also believes salt and pepper are all you need for a great burger which must be cooked to medium at the hottest lest it lose it's tenderness.

Jake Muller- Salads, smoothies, and overnight oats, he's the one making meals that are able to be eaten fast or on the go. Fruit counts as a dessert to him. He does enjoy experimenting by eating the "weird" or most unfriendly tourist foods while he travels so he has something to brag about, even though he could never figure out how to cook any of it himself.

Ethan Winters- He tries his best. He'll help Mia in the kitchen with food prep or clean up. He makes good dips for chips, has a delicious cookie recipe, and researched how to make baby food for when Rosemary stopped being breastfed. This somehow translated into him figuring out how to make very good custards and parfaits. Although, he got super frustrated trying to figure out how to make bread and has given up the fight.

i will happily do this again for any characters not on either of my lists since i love cooking and baking, and this is fun to think about

[goodolddumbbanana]

[Bad end au 2] A sleepless night

Part 1

‘I love the fact that I can look into your eyes and see nothing but lies…’

Two weeks before Dark Sun kickdrop Nexus for Sun.

The sound of dripping water disturbed Sun’s already fragile sleep.

The lily-colored animatronic groaned lazily on the bed, its metallic senses sinking deep into the soft quilt, struggling like a lazy child refusing to wake up.

The dim electric blue light covered Sun’s small, narrow room like a curtain, reflecting the solitude of its owner, when the most prominent thing in this room was only a few plum blossom petals that Molten had collected and placed on Sun’s desk.

Sun couldn’t sleep. The robot didn’t need to sleep, but closing his eyes and turning off the power still brought about a certain feeling of comfort. 

It was just that… The tasks that Father assigned piled up on top of each other, spinning Sun around like a pinwheel, to the point that even when Sun lay down, his interface system still popped up with painful notifications of things to do.

And today was one of those days when the restlessness Sun shouldn’t have felt in his chest suddenly became more intense, like the way the sensor in his abdomen contracted, rolling as if someone’s nails were scratching it, or the screws in his body suddenly became too heavy, too wobbly for Sun’s liking.

Putting his hand on his chest, Sun realized that his fan was too hot. The warmth radiating from the metal casing tickled Sun’s fingers, making him unconsciously press harder, as if testing whether the heat would melt his hand. 

His claws leisurely ran along the gold plating, slowly spreading up his neck, touching the red tassel and pressing down hard.

‘It’s hard to imagine what would happen if he squeezed harder.’

Sun thought absentmindedly, as his hands gently caressed and drew the joints of his neck. The cold hard steel, with its circular patterns and sturdy screws, held the wire he walked in one direction. He could almost feel the heat of the electricity running, the clocks and gears slowly turning to simulate the biological mechanism of a human.

The child whose neck he had broken the day before didn't have time to scream, nor did it shed a drop of blood. Just a stiff crunch of broken bones and a panicked wheeze, mixed with the tears of the small hand trying to reach Sun's arm before it stopped.

It was almost like a hug when Sun wrapped his arms around the child's neck. Soft, small and warm, and then there was no warmth left. Even as he ran his arms through the child's hair or held it completely in his arms, what he touched was still numb as ice, cold as winter seawater, and stiff as a machine.

Sun had kept the child like that for almost a day before Father came to make him throw it away. ‘It was so unhygienic’, that's what he was told when his Father threw the child into the blender.

‘Where do you think the fertilizer for my potted plants comes from, you stupid child.’ Creator pointed to the lush, mutated potted plants that grew twisted and twisted all over their lair, to the ancient tree beside the bridge that swirled with dark water below.

‘Soul for energy, flesh and blood for fertilizer, and bones for materials.’

‘It seems that despite all the modifications, you are still making me feel so disappointed…’

Creator’s voice hummed, and in that dark darkness, Sun was not alone. Something writhed and trembled, the cries of trapped remnants, cracked skulls staring intently at him—

Sun was released about a day later.

The blood was something sweet and dirty, it was slippery and sticky on Sun’s metal skin, dripping with every step he took.

And the smell was the worst. Like rotten pizza and rotten fish, Sun couldn’t wash away the smell even after using countless detergents.

Sun didn’t remember how long it took him to clean and dispose of all the meat stuck to his bell after he crawled out of the hole…

***

“Do you want to get out yet, my boy?”

The Creator’s voice was sweet as honey but full of venom. The brain looked down at the yellow animatronic covered in blood that was trembling non-stop, but still couldn’t drop something like a child’s skull in his arms.

“Then bring Lunar to me.”

***

Squirming to sit up, Sun didn’t think he could lie down any longer, as his processor was now repeating the image of maggots crawling on him for the nth time.

He really didn’t know what to do… Capture Lunar?

Lunar was much stronger than Sun… And the boy was smart too… There was no way Sun could fool his little brother.

And he didn’t want to…

The dilemma made him fiddle with the bandage wrapped around his hand. The red smelled rancid, but Sun still wrapped the soft fabric around his fingertips and pulled.

He would rather be destroyed again than to choose something like this.

In truth, Sun didn’t like any of what his father had ordered.

It was wrong in every way, and Lunar was someone he never wanted to hurt.

But every time he thought like that, something was washed through his system, and the desire to obey his father grew stronger and stronger, making the morality Sun tried to cling on withered.

Sun didn’t understand why in the past, he could scream and curse at his father as much as possible but now, just a shake of the head from Creator was enough to make his 1 and 0 coded heart cringe.

Follow, follow, follow, that's what his head and code table whispered, it was almost like an addiction, the excitement and joy of completing what his father asked.

And Sun was always the one to follow, and no matter how much he resisted, he still couldn't fight back.

Because father is family.

And it's better to be a heartless dog than to make his father sad.

Maybe being broken would be easier to fix than this. Sun sighed, standing up. The wandering thoughts in his head made Sun wish that if there was something that could help him manage both, both pleasing Creator and keeping Lunar safe, then Sun would be satisfied.

His feet touched the cold floor, the sound of metal clanking as Sun carefully opened the door and stepped out.

The cold wind blew through him, blowing cold air onto Sun's rays.

The smooth whiteness flowed like silk into his vision. The silence was as bleak as a mirror, following the corner of Sun's feet. Father was probably out with his friend somewhere, or still busy in the lab. 

Sun alone, toiling, wandering, perhaps cleaning up again if he got too bored, though Sun usually tried not to. More or less, this was the only free time he had when Father wasn't sending him and Molten off to some unknown time and space to find something or deal with someone his brain desired.

He tried to hum a tune, but sadly, there was nothing in his head right now. The sound of running water grew louder, as he stepped onto the bridge. 

The echoes echoed along with the sound of the bells wrapped around Sun's wrists, bouncing off the steel on the bridge. The cool scent of water tickled his sensory system, caressing the golden animatronic’s back as the green leaves gently brushed against Sun’s light.

It was 4am, his internal clock system announced softly. The water flowed gently, bottomless, pitch black and glowing with chemical green. The flower petals drifted, occasionally a plum blossom petal would touch Sun’s shoulder, the playful lines on the hem of his skirt wrapped around his waist.

Sun was lost in thought, but there was really nothing on his mind.

It was just the familiar feeling of stagnation that even cleaning had lost its charm, not after he had scrubbed this lair more than a dozen times a day. The wind blew, the waves rolled, and everything drifted out of Sun’s control like some planet lost its orbit.

“So this is what you do when our esteemed father lets you rest?”

“Pathetic. Can’t you think of anything more helpful to our Creator, Sun?”

Sun didn’t even need to look. His audio processor could have picked up that arrogant and even-tempered tone anywhere.

“Oh, Goliath. Didn’t see you there? Heh… What business does our father have with me?”

The silence of the gears slowly turning against each other. A harsh growl answered, as rough as gravel being crushed into dust.

“… No.”

“So you came out here on your own?” Sun raised an eyebrow, his pearly eyes narrowing in amusement, ignoring the instinct that told him not to provoke the sleeping lion, or this time, a gorilla.

“Whoa! And I thought you only knew how to follow the Creator’s orders and turn off the power? How amazing.” 

“Congratulations, you finally have thoughts on your own.”

Sun was genuinely surprised by his counterpart’s actions, but the words he uttered under the influence of his lack of a personality chip made his words sound rather sarcastic.

And honestly, Sun didn’t care if Goliath decided to strangle him here.

“Shut your mouth. You’re the last person I want to hear that come out of your mouth. I’m not here to entertain an inferior thing like you.”

The giant animatronic, with a haughty and disdainful look, stared at him as if he were looking at an ant on the ground, or a puppy that had been hit by a car and the vet had long gone to sleep, leaving it to writhe and bleed on the side of the road to dead.

Sun just sighed, compared to what Goliath usually said, this could be considered the gentlest. The gorilla seemed to be in some sort of moody mood as well, as they too turned their gazes to the river like him, saying nothing, only their processors making clicking noises of recognition.

“So Goliath… If not because Father wants to see me… What are you doing here?”

The silence was a perfect chord for a tone-deaf man. Sun hadn’t meant to ask, but the restlessness that existed deep within his code made his mouth conjure up the huge elephant in the room.

Of course, the only response he got was a slap across the face, a ruffling of a cat’s fur.

“None of your business.” Their voices were mocking, and defensive.

They looked as if they would break his entire beam before throwing him into the water, and pulled him up. And did it again. Again and again because Sun’s metal is too heavy for him to swim.

But Goliath wasn’t his father. So Sun could still calmly ignore the hidden threats in the words of the one who treated silence as a competition and they always had to be the champion, and let his mind drift into nothingness, which Sun did quite a lot these days.

“Suit yourself.” Sun yawned. He suddenly felt a little cold, which was strange considering the fact that he was just a robot. The feeling of exhaustion from every bolt, which had been getting heavier lately…

Sun wasn’t the smartest, but even he himself  had figured out that being so close to the Wither Storm debris wasn’t a good thing.

“You shouldn’t be like this. I remember you used to be so much—”

There was something annoyed in Goliath’s voice, making Sun turn back to look at him in spite of himself.

Maybe it was anger, or nostalgia. Or maybe his fan was faulty. Sun didn't understand, nor could he remember how to handle it, as a burning sensation in his chest that made it hard to breathe came as quickly as it had gone, before being extinguished as coldly as Goliath's words had metaphorically nailed into Sun's head.

What did Goliath expect Sun to be?

Uptight, cowardly, too helpless in his own emotions?

Imprisoned by fear of everything?

Stupid to the end?

Sun didn't mean he'd gotten any smarter, but at least for now he felt fine. The feeling he never could enjoy since the day he was alive.

Guess his father was right.

Life was pain.

And the easiest way to end the pain was to become a machine again.

The comfort of not having to worry about anything but obeying his father's orders, it turned out to be more comfortable than he thought.

Still, in the face of the stupidity and meanness of the person who was always jealous and comparing themselves to him, Sun just smiled, his social AI chip calculating the most likely answers to lessen the gorilla's arrogance before flipping the table and throwing every answer it had predicted down the drain.

"Ah... I don't understand what you mean?"

And the orange light flickering in their eyes almost reminded him of a candy corn smoldering as if thinking about something, before regretfully turning away.

"Idiot."

And leave Sun alone, like some asshole that dudebag is.

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

Jack's thing is not that he super loves being a douchebag, his thing is that he's gone through what Ed had gone through. The same exact meat grinder that's making Ed say shit like "I'm unlovable and I don't have any friends and maybe death is a better option" is the thing that makes Jack say "pirates don't have friends we're all just in various stages of fucking each other over." And it's also the same thing that makes the crew act how they do in episodes 1.01-1.03. The show gives Jack sympathy this is not my woobification at work. They have Ed tell us that he's insecure and they have him tell the story about why he's the way that he is when they're discussing Hornigold. Jack's 15 minutes of fame fit incredibly fucking well into the overarching narrative of this show about toxic masculinity and if you can only see him as a villain rather than as a product of piracy just like Ed and Izzy and Mary and Anne and Fang, then you're missing an enormous part of both what he says about Ed and Ed's past and what he says about Stede and Stede's insecurities. That's the reason that people think Stede is having a Jack moment in 2.07, because Jack is what happens when you put Stede in the blender for long enough. You literally can't understand Jack as a character until you can imagine him and Ed as highschool aged kids getting flogged by their boss for holding hands.

You have to understand about him also that when Ed says to Stede that Stede and Jack have a lot in common because Jack comes on a bit strong at first but he's insecure, that Jack and Stede do in fact have the same insecurities about not being man enough. Think about how Stede acts when he's trying to be a real pirate and how he imagines himself in the fucking dream sequence that opens season 2 and then think about how Jack acts in his episode. Jack literally manages to trigger Stede's insecurities so bad because Jack is doing the exact same big man posturing that Stede wants to do so fucking bad. Stede at his highest manliest moment is Jack-esque.