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#and it WORKED WELL and i won twice with it
deanwinchesterf · 1 year
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i built my FIRST EVER commander deck and i am PROUD
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spaciebabie · 2 months
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shoutout 2 this person in my class who i can tell wants 2 talk 2 me really bad but instead of doing that whenever she has the chance she'll talk 2 whoever else is around and ignore me entirely unless im mentioned by name
#bruh lmao#so awkward. say something you dingus lol#ik you wanna talk 2 me so bite the bullet already#gyatt#spacie spoinks#literally. she was having a conversation with my partner for the project im doing. and like#heres the thing#if im not invited into conversation i usually dont participate#im like a vampire like that#and so like. after they're done conversating she'll just kind of. stand there. this has happened twice now#like dude sdkfjshlkdfj#im not upset by this behavior i have very awful social patterns as well and have been thru this (i am autistic)#am i gonna hafta say something. lol#probably#''hey bro whats up with you. i dont mean like how are you doing. i mean like. whats wrong with you.''#cant say that its not funny when you say it irl only when the ppl you're talking with know you're not being mean 😭#also like. this person has been staring at me lol#which like. makes me flustered so whenever she's around i panic and my face fucking turns red its god awful#for awhile it made uhh. my paranoia get really bad im ngl!!#its already bad when it comes 2 being around strangers but this like made it REALLY bad for a few weeks#im more calm now tho. rational brain won over and im chillin#i gotta work up the courage 2 say something b4 the semester is over or this is gonna bother me for the rest of my life sfkjsdhflkjs#i dont wanna put her on the spot#the only time i see her is when im in class#and . doing that interaction in front of ppl. i dont wanna embarrass her ksjfskjd
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comradejoanmir · 9 months
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If reddit says "japanese business practices" One more time I'm gonna break smth can't believe you guys have me defending corporations tonight
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moss-sprouted · 6 months
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casually playing the sims 4 and i look over and
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phoenixkaptain · 1 year
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I love it when pre Original Trilogy era shows how much effort went into making the Death Star. It took decades, literal decades, and it took so much money and so many people and it was such a secretive thing and it’s staffed by millions because it’s the size of a small moon.
I cannot express how much all of the added information makes it so much funnier that Luke blew it up.
Luke destroys literally everything Palpatine built. He blows up the Death Star, which was referenced in universe as early as the second movie. He blew up the weapon of mass destruction twenty years in the making. And he blew it up pretty much directly after it’s first and only successful attack. It was operational for fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes that Palpatine had the thing he’d been building for longer than Luke has been alive, and Luke blows it up. First day retirement, but first hour retirement.
Luke convinces Darth Vader to turn back to the light side, a feat thought literally impossible by literally everybody. Sidious clearly doesn’t see Vader’s betrayal coming. Vader’s betrayal was not in his plans, nor was it something he was prepared for. Sidious is a powerful Force user with all four limbs while Vader is a man in the tin can Palpatine put him in. If Palpatine had seen Vader turning coming, he would not have allowed it to happen.
Luke literally should not even be alive. Palpatine almost definitely got Padme out of the way on purpose, and he almost certainly was trying for her unborn child as well (there was way too big of a risk that a cute liddol bebe would bring some humanity back to Anakin, and Palpatine did not want Anakin to have any humanity) Luke living is literally the first step in Palpatine’s ultimate downfall, especially once Vader finds out that Luke is his son. His very alive son. His son that is not dead, despite Palpatine claiming Anakin killed Padme. Implying that Anakin killed Padme and she posthumously gave birth. But, she didn’t give birth on Mustafar, which was the last place Anakin interacted with her. And once the mother dies, you have to get those fuckers out fast or they die too.
I imagine Darth Vader piecing all of this together is that meme with all the math floating around his head, because how could Padme have died by his hand and then given birth like two hours later?
Luke killing Palpatine is what ultimately leads to the dissolution of the Empire as an omnipotent entity. Luke killed the Empire. Luke spends a good amount of his adult life killing Empire remnants. We see that in the Mandalorian, since he’s so recognizable that Gideon immediately knows he’s fucked just by seeing an X-wing. We read it in Legends’ continuity, where Luke terrifies Imperials because he can walk into their changing room and stand in their for a minute and they don’t even notice.
Luke destroyed Palpatine’s life’s work. Everything Palpatine spent his whole life working towards, and Luke kills all of it. He blows up not one, but two Death Stars (he may not have pulled the trigger on the second Death Star, but without him, it never would have been destroyed). He convinces not one, but multiple Sith and Dark Jedi to return from the Dark Side. He is the only reason that Obi-Wan Kenobi, the biggest pain in Palpatine’s ass ever born, lives long enough to make it to the Death Star.
Palpatine went through so much effort. And just when he had finally won, when he finally had a weapon capable of destroying entire planets with a single blast, making it impossible for any planets or peoples to go against him, Luke shows up nineteen years late to the Jedi party with space Starbucks and a droid twice his age and almost singlehandedly destroys everything Palpatine ever had a hand in creating.
Luke manages to become even worse than Obi-Wan Kenobi, the ultimate thorn in the side of politicians, and Luke doesn’t even understand any politics. He wasn’t trained in diplomacy like Obi-Wan and Leia, no, he’s a farmboy who left home for the first time in his entire life, just this morning. And he is the one to destroy the Empire.
If they rewrote Star Wars and had it entirely from Palpatine’s perspective, Luke Skywalker would be his greatest foe. Luke Skywalker would be the final boss. Luke Skywalker is the antithesis of everything Palpatine believes in and he is the one character that Palpatine cannot predict. He isn’t as moldable as Anakin, he doesn’t respond to threats very well, he’s apparently impossible to kill via Force lightning (still the funniest scene of all times, the progression of Palpatine’s face falling and him looking like “what the fuck??? Is this kid rubber??? I’ve electrocuted him eight times???”), his unwavering faith in his father’s goodness makes Darth Vader want to be a better person, Luke Skywalker is the big bad of Palpatine’s story and—
There is nothing in this world that is funnier than someone’s biggest antagonist being Luke fucking Skywalker. Luke Skywalker, who saved the galaxy with the power of love and who shouldn’t exist, by Jedi rules and by Palpatine’s own attempts, and whose best friends are literally droids, which Palpatine canonically hates!
Everything about this is hilarious, this is the funniest thing in all of media, Palpatine loses absolutely everything to some backwater farmboy who fucking likes droids.
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kookslastbutton · 2 months
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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)
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✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.
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Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader
AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 6.7k+
Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content
sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together
Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie
a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰
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“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”
With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.
Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.
It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?
Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.
“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”
“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.
“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."
“Oh, well that’s very–“
“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.
“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”
Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.
“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.
Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”
As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”
“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.
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“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”
With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.
“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”
The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.
“What did you say your last name is?”
You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.
“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.
“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.
“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”
Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.
“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”
“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”
“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.
There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.
Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?
“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.
“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”
“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”
“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.
“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.
“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”
Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?
This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.
“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.
“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."
Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.
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For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.
Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.
Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.
“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”
What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”
“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.
You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.
“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.
“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."
With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.
"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.
"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"
You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.
"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."
"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.
"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"
"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.
"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."
Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."
"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.
"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"
You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"
"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."
The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.
"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."
That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.
"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.
"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."
"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”
"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."
Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."
Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.
"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.
"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.
"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.
"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.
"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.
"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"
Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.
"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.
"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"
"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."
"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"
"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."
"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"
Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."
Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"
"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"
"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."
It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.
"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."
"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.
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"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.
"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.
The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.
Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.
"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"
Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"
"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"
"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."
You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.
"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"
"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"
"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.
"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.
"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."
"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.
"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."
"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.
"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.
"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.
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Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.
What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.
You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.
"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.
"'m, I love you too."
Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.
"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.
"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."
He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"
You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.
"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."
You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.
"Yoon?"
"Mm."
"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.
"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.
"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.
"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.
You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.
"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."
Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.
"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."
His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.
"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."
Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.
"But...you haven't seen me–"
"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."
"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."
Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.
"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.
Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.
"Can I?"
You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.
With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.
"Fuck," you swear.
"Feeling good?"
All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.
"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.
"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"
He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.
Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.
"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."
"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"
Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.
Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.
You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.
"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.
"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."
Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"
"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.
"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.
"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.
"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.
"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."
"Really? You're not just teasing me?"
Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.
"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.
Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.
"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.
Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.
"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."
Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.
"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."
"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"
Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.
"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."
"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"
"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."
"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.
"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.
This is what love feels like.
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a/n: LMK what you think 🥰
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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months
Text
Mom and Dad are fighting on Christmas 🎄⛄🖤
Miguel O'Hara x wife reader
TW: MINORS DNI, angst, relationship and marriage troubles, fighting, insecurity, jealousy, postpartum, talk of divorce, mild smut at the end (p in v, idk to me it's mild, I've seen worse) word count 3.3k
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Credit to the gif owner keezinemugstudent! 🙏🏽
Synopsis: your marriage to Miguel is on the brink of collapse. He wakes up and tries to fix it on Christmas. Jerry Maguire inspired. 😁
Valentine's Day spinoff sequel
Mother's Day ending blurb
I tried to write something angsty. Hope everyone had/is having a good holiday season! ⛄
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Miguel's in the doghouse and he knows it. You requested a separation after you reached your limit. The kids were sick in the weeks following Thanksgiving and before Christmas and he spent the whole time working late and coming home at suspicious hours in the morning, leaving you drowning. You and the kids were piled in yours and Miguel's bed when you'd hear him come home, the front door closing and his familiar footfalls dredging down the hall, pausing only at the fridge before passing out on the couch. Oh you hated him right now. The resentment had creeped in and poisoned the marriage inside and out when he became exceedingly obsessed with work.
Protecting the stability of the multiverse was a huge undertaking, but, like all things in his life, Miguel took it to the next level. But when it came to his personal life, he was grievously lacking. The passion where you two would do it twice a day and couldn't keep your hands out of each other's pants? Ancient history. The small pecks you'd trade in the mornings were a thing of the past. Gone were the days you two would text all day and go out for dates. You didn't so much as get an "on my way home" text, instead letting the sound of his car pulling in the driveway be your confirmation of his return. You two were more roomates at this point than husband and wife.
Traditionally, on Christmas Eve after the kids went to bed, you two would take that time for each other, eating the cookies for Santa that were conveniently your favorite kind, placing the presents you two carefully shopped for and wrapped (well, mostly you wrapped), under the tree. A hysterical giggle would escape your lips at the milk mustache on Miguel's face. Then you'd two get busy on the floor in front of the fireplace, fighting back laughter as you tried to keep your moans down, every year struggling a little bit more than before because your knees weren't what they used to be before taking it to your bedroom for one more round before the chaos of Christmas morning began.
He was perfect in the beginning. The romance between you two used to be at an all time high. He was a nerd in the same friend circle when you knew him in high school, wickedly smart, the guy who won the Robotics and Math Olympiad comps and got visits from Ivy League college STEM departments, eager to scoop up his talent. Sure, he was cute, but when he went to college is when you heard he had a major glow up and became kind of cocky. You heard about how he became Spider-Man and was pretty much the greatest thing since sliced bread in the eyes of the people, saving lives and fighting villains and all. You knew how the opposite gender seemed to malfunction and forget how to act around him, so you stifled away your tiny crush you had on him for years in the smallest crevice in your brain in a forgotten folder, never thinking it'd see the light of day.
When you saw him at your high school reunion, you decided to be brave and remark on how they're playing Nickelback, which he shrugged and said he actually enjoyed them, to which you sheepishly admitted that you really enjoyed them deep down too, you just couldn't resist making yourself the person to talk shit, since there's always gotta be one hater when Nickelback comes on. A canon event, if you will. This earned a tiny side smile from him, a chink in his stoic armor. After 8 beers, some flirty jests, and a little backseat rendezvous in his car, that became the last night that you two spent apart.
You were a single mom and he was a single dad. He had Gabi who was now 10 and you had Marcus who was now 6. Then you two had little Anthony together who was now 2. At first he was at all the doctors appointments, all the parent teacher conferences, he knew what the kids were doing in school. He did bed times every night, reading in a silly voice with Gabi and Marcus both balancing on his lap while you rocked baby Anthony, smiling when you heard the kids giggling from the other room. You'd walk in after baby Anthony fell asleep in his crib, your heart melting as you saw this handsome giant of a man usually known to be cold and serious to everyone else, turn into the doting husband and loving father you knew him to be. Now, years of the monotony of every day life, pressures of raising a family, and the dying egalitarian attitude you two had as partners snowballed into your own version of Gottman's four horses, leading your marriage to Miguel into apocalypse.
At first, he welcomed the separation as you two battled in the kitchen.
"You wanna separation, fine, I'll do you one better. I'll fucking leave! Felicia's better company anyway," he smirked.
There wasn't real truth behind his statement, but he knew it would hurt you when you heard it. He'd be lying if he said Felicia wasn't an attractive woman, but, she simply wasn't you. He had learned his lesson on cheating years ago when he fumbled his relationship with Gabi's mother.
Ouch. But his words could be daggers when he wanted them to be, and he knew just how to twist them into you. Of course it was Felicia. Felicia, the gorgeous Black Cat recruit from work. Her silvery hair that halted midway down her back and startling blue eyes that could drown any man in them. She didn't have kids either, a life with her promised excitement, passion, and freedom. She was witty and funny and had a way of making anyone in her vicinity listen when she spoke. And to add insult to injury, she had a killer body.
After giving birth, you became so busy, and with reassurance from Miguel that you were still beautiful to him, you let your desire to get your body to "snap back" sit on the back burner. Signs of motherhood and postpartum marked you with purple stripes running vertical on your soft belly and a new plushness to your thighs. Basically, Felicia was a complete 180 from the woman you were, which made the sting of his words that much more unbearable. He took your vulnerabilities and threw them in your face.
"Oh so you admit it, finally! I know there was something going on between you two. Makes sense. She's a gorgeous woman, right? She can fucking have you then. What, are you in love with her?"
Miguel rolled his eyes, annoyed with the superficialness of your statement and your obsession with looks, despite him reassuring you many times that he wouldn't look at other women.
"I'm not in love with her, but she doesn't nag me all the fucking time like you do. I bust my ass every day for this family so you don't have to work. I don't know who this new woman is that I'm looking at right now and what she's done with my wife, but it's not the woman I fell in love with. It would be nice if you could show me a little appreciation once in a while."
You felt your blood pressure rise.
"Appreciation.... APPRECIATION, are you fucking kidding me?! I was up all goddamn night with Gabi and Marcus. I run this fucking household all by myself. I quit my fucking career to stay home and raise your kids. Do you not understand how lonely that is?"
"I'M LONELY!!! " he yells, triggered, the feelings bottled up, fizzed over and hurtled at you like a cork on a champagne bottle. "How do you think I feel? I got women at work practically throwing themselves at me but I don't do anything about it because I'm a good husband. Meanwhile, my own wife doesn't wanna fuck me. I'm a prisoner in my own fucking house."
Your eyes almost slipped from their sockets from rolling them so hard. He seemed to want a cookie and a gold star for just being loyal, the bare minimum.
"Oh, so you wanna fuck them? Go ahead! Maybe I'd fuck you if you actually gave a shit about me and not like I'm some damn fleshlight you use to get off!" You hurl back.
He left and checked into a hotel down the street.
A few weeks had passed and it was now Christmas. You were getting used to being separated but your heart still ached in your chest. You couldn't go on doing life, when the one person you did life with was nowhere to be found. You couldn't listen to your favorite songs, eat your favorite foods, or even look at your own children without being reminded of him. Gabi was his spitting image. Same with Anthony. Even Marcus, who was his stepson, started adopting Miguel's mannerisms. The way he'd scratch his head while he did his math homework, deep in concentration.
It was Christmas evening at your mom's. You joined the other women in your family, your non-politically correct Aunt, your soft spoken sister-in-law, your mother with a don't-try-me attitude, and your younger sister with a sass to rival your mother's. You were all complaining about the men in your lives, your aunt rattling off about her 3 ex husbands but, 'hey she collects alimony from two of them so she can't complain!', your younger sister complaining about the frat guys at college who just wanna get in your pants, your sister in law who's silent the whole time (your brother treats her like a queen), and your mom about your asshole dad with an erratic mother who was incapable of cutting the apron strings and made her life a living hell. The kids are laughing and playing in the basement, eagerly trying out their new Nintendo Switch Santa left under the tree.
"I'm here for my wife."
Your feminine council meeting is interrupted by an unwelcome masculine figure. It's your estranged husband, Miguel, the coffee-colored strands of hair that hung over his forehead starting to wet from the snowflakes that melted under the warmth of the room as he stepped inside, a look of regret and longing embedded in his eyes that you hadn't seen since your earliest days of knowing him.
His strong hands dangled at his sides in fists, his chest heaving up and down. His navy blazer bearing dark water stains from the melted snow. He had a revelation at work. He and Peter B. stopped an anomaly that was terrorizing the streets of Queens in Peter's universe. The battle was close, almost a little too close to where he lived, putting MJ and Mayday in direct danger. After the job was done, the moving and emotional reunion between Peter B., MJ, and Mayday was his epiphany.
As the little family reveled in their joy and relief of evading the ultimate disaster, the only thing there for Miguel at the point of his return was the inanimate, empty, thin walls of his apartment and the thoughts of you, his severed family, that inevitably haunted him. He needed you back. He needed to apologize and fix it now.
He ran from your house to your mom's in the snow and all. It was the first Christmas Eve he spent not in between your thighs and buried deep inside you. It was the first Christmas morning he didn't wake up to Gabi's blueberry pancakes and Marcus tackling him while Anthony screamed in delight. It was going to be the first Christmas night without his family by his side, an uncomfortably obvious empty seat at the table he rightfully belonged. Next to you.
Sometimes you don't know the value of something until it's gone. Sometimes life gets in the way and you forget to appreciate the person in front of you. Why did I treat my wife like garbage when all she ever wanted was for me to ask how her day was? Why were we on our way to winding up like both sets of our parents? Doomed to repeat the cycle of divorce and hurt. Doomed to lose your faith in love and marriage like all the maternal figures in your family before you did.
Now here he was, in the living room while your mom, sister, and aunt moved towards each other, eyes squinting, three pitbulls willing to jump in on your behalf while your sister in law just stayed frozen in place. He was in enemy territory and he needed to choose his words carefully.
"Not here Miguel..."
"YES here. Right now." He says in a firm voice. "You're not getting rid of me, woman."
You scoff, almost amused by his sudden urgency and painting you like you're the one who wanted this family to be broken apart.
"The kids are downstairs..." you start to say, hoping that the mention that innocent ears could be prying into the adult conversation would help him simmer down.
"I'll see them in a minute." He says flatly.
"I miss my wife...."-he chokes on the last word, wife.
"And I want her to come home." He knew at any time his words would give way to the reservoir of tears built up behind it.
You stood there, incredulous.
"I don't want to come home to an empty apartment. I don't want my own bed. I'm ashamed it took me losing you and the kids for me to wake up. And, I'm so so sorry. I'll do whatever I can to be better. To be a better man for you and the husband that you needed. We both got caught up in real life and focused on the kids so much that we lost each other. Well, this is me trying to find my way back."
Your lips parted slightly as your breathing became heavier. This was all you ever wanted to hear him say. Stop neglecting the love between you two that laid dormant, a plant starved of sunshine. For him to finally shake off the stubborn shackles that was his ego and express himself to you. Let him allow you back into his heart, no longer as a guest, but a permanent resident.
"You're... you're everything to me. And I'm not leaving here tonight until you let me know if you'd allow me the opportunity to get hurt by you again," a tear rolled down his cheek, his scarlet eyes yearning, his hands pining for the feel of you. As though the madness of not having you alone could stop his heart from beating, stop his world from turning, rearrange life as he knew it into a hollow existence not worth seeing.
Your own reservoir could not be held back any longer and started to roll down your cheeks. He managed to peel back the walls you built with his apology, revealing the woman underneath who just missed her husband.
He steps closer to you now, eager to bridge the rest of the space between your bodies.
"You still love me?" he asked softly.
Your chest heaves, shoulders raising then falling sharply, feeling yourself crack with exasperation under his burning gaze as you softly answer,
"Never stopped."
He grabs you and pulls you into him, his embrace is tight as though you'd disappear if he dared to break it. He tangles a hand in your hair and presses his cheek into your head, his eyes closed, drinking in the scent he'd been away from for weeks. You bury your face in his chest, trying to make yourself small and allowing his frame to swallow you whole, not minding his wet shirt and blazer that still have a slight chill on them from the storm outside, allowing your body heat to seep into his. You both began to rock back and forth a little bit, still locked inside your hug. It was as though the passing of time had evaporated and it was only you two in the room, nevermind your family witnessed the whole thing.
After several long moments, you pull apart and he offers you one of his dazzling smiles, one you hadn't seen in months. The kids have made their way upstairs and shriek with excitement when they see their dad and Miguel bends down to scoop them up. You smile and stand beside your mom who scoops you into a side hug. With her blessing, Miguel stays and celebrates the rest of Christmas with you and your family.
Gabi, Marcus, and Anthony are now all tucked in. The sugar from the chocolate they consumed all day had worn off, making them crash hard in their beds. You and Miguel are cuddled up on the couch watching the fireplace, taking some needed time as a couple. You stroke his strong arms that are wrapped around you with your fingertips, watching the way the flames leap and spark in the air when they crackle against the charred wood. You look up at him and feel a wave of desire wash over you that you had pent up for months as you study his chiseled features and the way the fire's glow highlights his skin.
"Should we end this Christmas with a bang?" You ask, pun fully intended.
Miguel looks at you tiredly, trying to act like that wasn't a witty remark but he lets out a chuckle. "I'd love to," he whispers.
He takes both your cheeks in his large hands and brings his lips to you immediately. They're soft and full. You feel yourself melting into him every time he sandwiches yours in between them. He reclines you backwards, slowly, until he's on top of you. He lets the weight of his body and hips come down on you little by little, making you arch your back, so your body can better receive him.
Once he lets you taste his tongue, you open your mouth wider, permitting him to deepen the kiss, tossing kindle onto the growing flame between you two, and it's not the one in your fireplace. You take your turn to dial up the heat, seizing his bottom lip in a gentle nip from your teeth, earning a low groan from Miguel and a tightened grip on your hair.
As you continue your steamy makeout session, he begins to hump gently against your clothed body, a nonverbal plea for the wet friction only the inside of you can provide.
After your frantic hands strip each other of your clothes, you've transitioned so you're straddling him in the lotus position, goosebumps popping up all over your skin as your bare body meets his, a high pitched gasp escaping you as you sink down onto him, his mouth falling open and his eyes shutting closed as he breathes in your ear,
"God, I missed you, baby."
You whine into his neck as you coil your fists in his hair. His hands fly to the soft flesh of your sides, using them to move you up and down, his haggard breaths making you weaker and weaker by the minute. You hum,
"I missed you even more."
The next move of his hips is harder than you anticipated, causing your brain to go fuzzy with pleasure.
"How much?" he exhales in a sultry tone.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you all week,"your tone turning into pleading as you feel yourself approaching your limit.
Miguel can't help but feel himself lose his mind a little bit at your words and at your reaction, sensing you won't be able to hold on much longer.
He lays you down, while still keeping himself inside. He slows down to a more sensual pace, breathing in the sight of your wild hair clinging to the couch cushions, evidence of him hitting you in all the right spots every time the inner corners of your eyebrows squinch upwards and your lips fall open.
His loving eyes burn with worship of your body and how well you're doing as he runs a thumb along your chin then pulls down your bottom lip, leans in and mumbles quietly into your mouth,
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. O'Hara."
-------
🖤
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spencereidluver · 6 months
Text
B is for Boy Genius?
summary: You outsmart Spencer in one of his most talented subjects: Poker. Derek officially removes his "Boy Genius" title, effectively aggravating sans-poker-champ Spencer. And someone is a little hot when he's angry...
word count: 2k
warnings: none really, some friendly bullying of Spencer by Derek but nothing that isn't normal in the show.
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“Straight flush.” Spencer says with a grin. He’s been in the BAU going on 5 years, and has yet to be beaten at poker by anyone.
“Oh, Spencer,” you lean in toward him and flatten your cards on the table. “Royal. Flush.”
“What? No way.” He speaks before he can even look at your cards. “Oh my god.”
“How’s it feel to be beaten at your own game?”
“I want a rematch. Outside dealer.” He passes the deck to Derek, who is sitting at his desk across the aisle. 
“Pretty boy got beat, huh?” Derek says, beginning to shuffle the cards. He deals them out, planting a little kiss on the last card he hands you. “Good luck, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart is what Derek has called you since you joined the team. At first you thought it was a little weird, but by now you’re used to it. And to be honest, it’s one of the more normal names he calls his coworkers. So you lucked out there. 
You see Spencer smirk, he probably has a good hand. Well, maybe not. He’s always had a pretty good poker face, no pun intended. 
“What’s going on?” Rossi says as he makes his way out of his office to see Derek, JJ, and Emily all surrounding you and Spencer. 
“Oh, pretty boy and girl genius here are having a poker-off.” Derek says. That’s the first time you’ve ever been called girl genius, it makes you feel a small tingle in your stomach. You look up at the former boy genius in front of you, he’s got a rosy blush on his cheeks and spreading across his nose and down his neck. His pupils have dilated. Oh... Maybe he’s just nervous. . .
“Spencer here just lost his first poker game.” Emily says, giving him a pat on the shoulder. It makes him jump. 
“First and only.” Spencer testified. He clenches his jaw, making a small dimple appear. “Full house.” He slams his cards down and looks toward you with a smile. 
You click your tongue. Rossi has now appeared and is watching from behind Spencer’s shoulder. Locking eyes with him, you slide his cards to the side. “Four of a kind.” you say as you sit each card down one by one. 
Spencer’s eyes all but come out of his skull. Derek erupts in laughter, “Dethroned,” he manages to say. He ruffles Spencer’s hair. “How’s it feel having a new genius around?”
“I’m impressed.” Spencer tells you, ignoring Derek’s provoking remarks. “Where’d you learn that?”
“Oh you know, picked it up during my college years.” You say, shrugging your shoulders and giving him a half-mouthed smirk. 
The crowd of your coworkers fades out, and everyone gets back to work. Your desk being directly across from Spencer’s, you see him studying the cards through the pile of binders and Manilla folders between the two of you.
“I still can’t believe you won. Twice,” he looks up from his desk to say. 
“You just can’t give up the crown, can you, Spence?” You respond. 
_____
You get up from your desk to go get your lunch from the breakroom. With a morning filled with poker and getting a solid new nickname, you’ve worked up quite an appetite. Upon opening the door, you bump shoulders with JJ, who is making her way out. 
“Woah there, girl genius,” she says. “Watch where you’re going there.”
“Sorry JJ, the genius doesn’t come equipped with self-steering.” You joked. 
Spencer is standing at the counter stirring a coffee. His head turned toward you as you walked in the room, causing him to lose control of his hands and the coffee-coated spoon went flying. 
“Nor hand eye coordination.” Emily laughs from the table in the corner. 
“Shut up.” Spencer mumbles, wiping the small mess he made up with a paper towel. “You know, the average win rate for professional poker players is only 47%.” 
“Well, as of right now, y/n’s is 100.” Emily pats his shoulder once again as she walks past him and out the door, leaving you and Spencer alone. 
“I don’t understand why everyone is making such a big deal of this little poker thing.” He says, a little annoyed.  
You walk behind him and open the fridge. “It’s all in good fun, Spence. We all know you’re still the smartest by a long shot.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Like, why has everyone been bringing it back up. I lost a game, big deal.”
“I think everyone is just surprised is all. I mean, you haven’t lost a game in five years, Spence. That's a long time.”
“Not really. Considering most of the people here are in their thirties, that’s only 1.5% of their life-“
You interrupt him. “But, they’ve only worked here since they were about 25, making that their entire time here.”
Spencer’s mouth drops wide open. He cannot believe you caught that. Especially before him. “I- Wow. I guess you’re right." He looks defeated, tensing his shoulders and taking a heavy breath.
"You're still the smartest person I know, Spence." You try to make him feel better. The corners of his mouth turn up in what would not quite be classified as a smile. "And the whole team agrees with me, they're just trying to get under your skin."
He giggles and makes a disgusted face. "Ew. You didn't have to word it like that, y/n. I've lost my appetite." He pushes his coffee away and grins.
You quickly grab a straw from the small four compartment organizer to your right, sticking it in the cup and taking a sip out of it. You swallow, blinking aggressively. "Spencer, how many sugars did you put in here?" He'd been autonomously opening and pouring in sugar packets since the conversation began.
He glances in the small garbage bin beneath his feet. "Um, thirteen." He says, pressing his lips together forming the "white people" smile.
_____
You walk in the office slightly later than your normal time. You took a detour to the local supermarket in order to pick up some yogurt for lunch, getting sidetracked by a t-shirt you found on the end-cap of an isle.
You grabbed the t-shirt and two bottles of coffee and hurried to the register, completely forgetting the yogurt you made the trip for in the first place.
As you reach your car, you toss your knitted bag, now filled with coffee and a t-shirt, into your passenger seat and quickly climb inside.
The office is about 2 minutes from the supermarket. As you drive, you play with the fabric of the black shirt peeking out of the bag. You wonder when you're going to have a chance to put it on.
As you pull into the parking lot of the BAU, you see Spencer hustling in. He must be running late. Odd. He was never late. Never. You saw Spencer’s rare fault as the perfect moment, and slipped your sweater off in the driver’s seat of your car. You slid the black tshirt over your bra, pulling the button up sweater over your shoulders and fastening all but the top button. You grabbed your bag, sliding it over your left shoulder and exited your car, shuffling in. 
You met Spencer at the elevator, unsure how you both got there at the same time as he’d entered the building a good two minutes before you. 
“Good morning, Spence,” you said and smiled at him.
“Mornin’, y/n. How are you?” He responded.
“I’m good, how about you?”
“I’m okay, I was running late this morning and didn’t have time to get my coffee, but other than that I’m doing well.”
You thought about the glass bottle in your bag. You knew grabbing two would be a good idea. You looked up at the tall man, feeling small as he glanced down toward you. “I stopped by the market this morning, I picked up an extra coffee. I was going to just save it for tomorrow, but you’re welcome to have it.” 
“Oh, are you sure, y/n? Don’t feel like you have to give up your coffee because I was up all night.”
You wondered why he was up all night. What could’ve been on his mind that kept him up so late? You gestured the bottle over to him, smiling as he took it from your grasp.
“Thank you, y/n. I owe you for this one.”
The elevator door opened and the two of you began walking down the hall to the BAU room. Spencer opens his coffee, a satisfying “pop” sound as the seal of the lid breaks. You pull the glass door open and hold it for him as he takes his first sip. He scurries through and you follow, pulling your own coffee from your bag. 
“Well, well, well,” Derek announced loud enough the whole building could hear. “Look who finally decided to show up to work.”
“Shut up,” Spencer retaliated.
“I didn’t know coffee was on the new genius this morning. Where’s mine, y/n?” Derek joked, smirking at Spencer.
You could tell this one stung a little bit. Spencer knew it was all fun and games, but having his one strong suit, in his mind anyways, be taken away from him hurt. You rolled your eyes and hurried over to your desk, sitting your bag down on the files you’d yet to fill out. You looked up, expecting Spencer to be at the table across from you, but he wasn’t. He’d walked away. You sighed and got to work.
Spencer returned about half an hour later, sitting down at his desk without even acknowledging you. He began aggressively writing on his paperwork, so aggressively that his hand veins protruded and knuckles turned white. By the clench of his jaw, you knew he was probably a little upset by the interaction with Derek earlier, so you decided now would be the perfect time to unveil your purchase from this morning. 
You stood up, unbuttoning your sweater and slowly worked your way toward Spencer. You grabbed the deck of playing cards from his desk, drawing the man’s attention. He glanced up at you with a slightly raised eyebrow. Leaning down close to his ear, you whispered, “follow me.” 
He shivered as the heat of your voice hit the back of his neck, but obliged. You took him up the stairs to the half floor located in front of Hotch’s office. “Just go with it, okay?” You said to him. He looked confused, but nodded in agreement despite.
You loudly cleared your throat, attention from the floor below turned toward you. You held up the deck of cards. You made sure your shirt was visible and gently brushed your side against the man who stood next to you.
“I would like to re-declare Dr. Spencer Reid as certified office genius. After further research, he has proven himself worthy of the title.” You announced to the rest of the team who had their full attention on you. Spencer smiled.
“You’re too kind,” Spencer said, leaning down to take a peek at your shirt that he’d noticed you’d paid extra attention to. He couldn’t quite see it as half of it was wrinkled from the curves of your body and the guard rail was disturbing his view as he leaned forward. He grabbed your shoulders and gently twisted them to face him. His eyes met your breasts, despite knowing he was just reading the vinyl words, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up a little bit. You knew everyone in the office was watching you guys as well, making you even warmer. Spencer’s cheeks had a small hint of rose to them as well as he mouthed the words on your shirt.
“I’m with genius,” he whispered under his breath. A smile took over his face, but it slowly faded as he realized he was still holding on to your shoulders. He felt his cheeks grow red and he quickly pulled his arms back down to his side. 
You opened your mouth to begin speaking, but right when the words were about to come out, the door to Hotch’s office swung open and he came barreling through, files in hand.
“Sorry to ruin the fun guys, but we have a case.”
_____
next chapter: C is for Case by Case
_____
a/n: okay i guess that one was kind of boring too.. but i kinda wanna set some tension and some story lines before we just jump in you know... since this chapter was pretty long, the next chapter is going to be a short little filler chapter of a conversation with you, spencer, and hotch. I hope you guys are enjoying so far :)
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propertyofwicked · 2 months
Text
SECRETS part 2 - LN
lando x fewtrell!reader
no content warnings in this part, i promise the next part will have some actual fluff to it
part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> part 4 -> part 5 -> part 6 -> part 7!
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y/n was easily won over by chicken nuggets and a diet coke - a fact lando knew too well. both he and max had both spent almost hundreds on the food combo every time y/n was roped into one of their plans. whether she was lying to her parents to cover up where max had been all night, or even just being asked to hold a camera or a boom mic for a quadrant video, she was always rewarded with 6 chicken nuggets and a diet coke.
lando had in fact not included max in his late night plans, and very quickly made it known as to why.
“so, how’s uni?” he asked, warming her up for the incoming conversation, turning onto a side road and pulling the car to a stop.
“yea it’s good thanks, how’s driving?”
“could be better, i could be better,” he smiled sadly, but glad she asked about driving as she fell directly into his trap, “why did you stop coming to races?”
“lando,” she sighs his name, almost disappointed in him for even asking, “university’s a lot of work you know. i can’t fly around the world to watch you drive a car. and, i still watch the races - just from home.”
“so it’s nothing to do with me?”
“well ignoring me for a year doesn’t help your case, but no, it’s not to do with you. you know i’ll always be there when i can. when im invited,” the emphasis on invited hung like hot air in the car, and created and unsettling silence.
“lan, can i ask you a question?” she said, breaking the awkward atmosphere in the car.
“mhm, anything.”
“why did you stop talking to me? i know we’re not as close as you and max,” she adds, lando almost wincing at the mention of his best friend, “and i know you were busy being, you know, a superstar and that. but even over your break, i saw you like twice in passing.”
“im sorry y/n, honestly it wasn’t intentiona-”
“bullshit, try again norris. the truth this time.”
lando breathed in deep, as if to lock and load his next statement.
“max he, uh, he told me he’d seen some pictures of us. you remember that club in monaco?,” she nodded in response, remembering the encounter with lando that night in somewhat drunken detail, “he wasn’t happy with me. thought we had something going on behind his back. y/n when i say angry, i mean he was one step away from beating me up and then keying my car.”
“but there was nothi- i mean we weren’t d-”
“i know, i tried to tell him,” lando sighed, “he gets a bit, let’s say ‘over protective’ with you i guess. doesn’t trust me maybe? i don’t know.”
“so instead of letting me discuss it with him, you refused to acknowledge my existence for a year? yeah that’s mint, let’s do that,” she said, the sarcasm rolling off her tongue.
“i was a dick, ok - i’m sorry. but your brother is slightly terrifying when he’s angry. think he’s realised he was wrong - that’s why he let you come to the race im guessing.”
he was wrong - but was he? was max completely wrong to assume what he had? she thought the feelings were mutual but clearly lando had other ideas.
“can i drive your car?” y/n asked, smiling over to lando in the drivers seat. he’s started driving around aimlessly again, deciding to put an end to the conversation about where they stood with each other. his head whipped around to look at her, his eyebrows quirked up in a mix of confusion and immediate refusal. he wasn’t even driving one of his more expensive cars, as they all stayed in monaco. but of course, lando norris needs a high end car in every country.
“please, lan,” she said again, eyes widening in attempt to tug on his heart strings, “please. i miss driving, i haven’t driven since like, christmas since my car died and went to car heaven.”
“y/n, angel,” the nickname wasn’t something new, but it still flipped something about in her stomach, ”if anything, that makes me want to say no even more. besides, it’s automatic - you drive manual.”
“oh come on, it’s literally just a pedal for stop and go. please.”
“not tonight,” he said, looking at her to show his sad frown as if that would make her happy about the rejection, “if i get podium tomorrow, ill put some money towards getting you a new car.”
“lan, please you don’t have to do that.”
“i know i don’t have to. i want to. besides, if i get podium i think i owe my lucky charm something to show my gratitude, no?” he said. y/n knew this was an argument she wouldn’t win, so she smiled up at him, nodding slightly.
the car fell back into a silence, comfortable this time, with only the sound of lando’s music playing quietly out of the speakers, and the odd whooshing of a car driving past.
the car came to a still, the red light reflected on the their faces as they waited for the light to change.
“the stars look pretty tonight,” she said absentmindedly. y/n was never one to sit in silence without at least attempting to fill it.
“yeah, they do,” lando responded, although he wasn’t looking at the stars, moreover, he was staring directly at the light reflecting onto y/n’s face. his own mouth curling up into a smile when he saw your soft features grinning contently at the sky.
it was around 1am when y/n and lando returned to the hotel car park, casually discussing life at university and where y/n saw herself using her degree in the future.
“i think it’s better if we don’t tell max about this,” she mumbled, tilting her head to the side, catching lando’s eyes. her own eyes blinking slowly in exhaustion.
“i think so too. are you going to tell him what i said?”
“not right now. but i refuse to let him believe has any right to threaten his own friends in a bid to control my life,” she says, her body now twisted fully to face him directly.
“just,” he sighed, “dont get violent,” his hand reaching over to rest on her knee.
“me? violent? that is a bold accusation, norris.”
“y/n - i know you. just don’t be too harsh, he thought he was doing what was best.”
“thinking is always max’s downfall,” she responds with a snort. she turns her body back, arm reaching to grab the handle when lando catches her other arm, forcing her to look at him again.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“i’ll be there.”
sneaking back into a room was usually y/n’s specialty, but she’d never attempted to sneak past max before. rather, her teens were spent sneaking back into the house with max. unlocking the door and pulling the handle down, y/n pushed softly on the wood, but the creaking was so loud in the silence of their hotel room. the floor boards to her bag of clothes seemed to have a vendetta against her today too, she could’ve sworn they did not creak when she had walked across them earlier.
the bathroom tap decided to splutter loudly and spit freezing cold water down her, and the door to slide back open and allow the stream of light to fall directly on max’s face.
“y/n?” her brother groaned, “you just come back in?”
“yeah, sorry - i tried to be quiet,” she whispered back, turning the bathroom light off and stumbling gracefully through the dark room to the sofa.
“it’s 1am? you were in the gym for 3 hours?”
“erm, yeah,” her voice wavered in the lie, “i got distracted on the treadmill. tired myself out though.”
max grumbled something in response, too sleepy to say anything further.
the next morning max walked down to the hotel lobby, passing the gym in his journey for breakfast.
open 7:00 - 23:00
hang on, he thought to himself, shut at 11?
where had his sister been? she couldn’t have been in the gym till 1am, so where had she been, and why had she lied?
★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶
tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes
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yuwuta · 7 days
Text
WHEREVER YOU WANNA GO, THAT’S FINE WITH ME — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO 
cw mentioned/talks about death but not like… in a serious way 😭 this whole thing is very unserious and stupid it’s just a thought i couldn’t get out of my head, megumi being… megumi, f2l but what’s new, also inspired by some clip from a tv show i’ve seen on tt but idk the name of it, if you do pls let me know
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you ask megumi you make one of those marriage pacts with you—that if neither of you are married by thirty-five, you two will get married to each other—and he just hums for a moment before asking, “do you think i’ll be better suited for marriage at thirty-five?”
“what? n—i don’t know? maybe? it just seems like an appropriate age to get married if you’re not already, that’s all,” you explain.
more humming. he blinks, “i don’t think i’ll be all that different at thirty-five.”
“well, that’s concerning,” you joke, “you’re supposed to change—grow a little bit as a person and all that, megumi. even you are capable of it.”
“i won’t want anything different out of a marriage at thirty-five than i would right now,” he corrects you, then turns to you, and with all seriousness demands, “so, state your stipulations. what do you want from me, let’s figure out of this is gonna work now.” 
you scoff, and cross your arms. “what do i want from you? that’s not how a marriage works.” 
“that’s how this friendship already works.” 
you say, megumi does; he pushes it than he should have, you say to stop, and eventually he does, and the cycle continues. he’s always stubborn, and sacrificing himself beyond necessity, and you’re always pulling his ear for it. 
“okay. fine,” you settle, straightening your posture, “i want a house. three bedrooms, so nobara and yuuji don’t have to bicker about sharing when they stay over.” 
megumi considers it, then counters with, “four. gojo needs a bedroom, too. one floor, i don’t like stairs.” 
“where the fuck are we going to find a one-level four-bedroom house? i don’t want to live in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.” 
“we’ll find one,” he shrugs, doesn’t flinch when he promises: “or i’ll have one made for us. next: vacations.” 
“twice per year. somewhere tropical, and somewhere metropolitan.” 
“i don’t like the beach.” 
“then you don’t have to go on the beach.” 
“you’re responsible for me if i burn.” 
“i’m responsible for you either way, i’m your wife,” you taunt, “pets, next. i want dogs. two. maybe three. and a bunny.” 
“no bunnies, they’re too much work.”
“but i want a bunny, megumi.” 
“you won’t have time for a bunny,” he rolls his eyes, “and you’re gonna get pissed when it chews up the expensive couch you’re gonna make me buy, and takes a shit in the expensive fruit bowl you’re gonna con gojo out of. no bunnies.” 
you pout and frown, but megumi doesn’t budge: “no bunnies.” 
you sigh, “no bunnies, but i want the dogs.” 
“i didn’t say no to the dogs. unless you want a golden, then i’m not raising that.” 
“why not? we already have yuuji.” 
“exactly, we already have yuuji.” 
“fine. i want a king sized bed. the really big, oversized ones you get in america.” 
“done. children?” 
“you want children?”
megumi shrugs, but you swear there’s a dust of pink on his cheeks, “maybe. maybe not. if i did, no more than two.” 
and suddenly you can’t help but feel heat in your own face, hot with the image of two tiny megumis running around. 
“that’s fine with me. maybe kids, but no more than two,” you cough, “i want one of those heated driveways for the house.”
“i’ll have it built. i’ll clean and do laundry and take out the trash if you cook.”
“what about days i don’t cook?”
“then i’ll do that, too,” megumi nods, “anything else?”
“yes. if i die first, you can remarry, but you visit my grave at least twice a year, and bring peonies. and that picture of me from prom where i look really good.” 
“no.” 
you stop. you blink. “what do you mean ‘no?’ you wouldn’t visit my grave?—kinda cruel considering i birthed your up-to-two future children and raised your dogs.” 
“i won’t remarry. and i don’t want you to if i die first,” he corrects you, again, “and there’s no dying first and leaving me behind, i’m going with you.”
he doesn’t leave room for debate in his declarations: won’t, don’t; not wouldn’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t—you have to pinch yourself to stop chasing the rabbit of temptation running through your mind. 
“i don’t… think you get to decide that,” you chuckle. 
“of course i do,” megumi grins, uncrosses his legs and leans over. he reaches a hand to the back of your head and pushes it forward until your foreheads meet gently; and as if the affection wasn’t shocking enough, he continues, “where you go, i go. that’s marriage, right?” 
he widens his smile a bit, before letting you go, leaning back into his seat again with crossed arms like nothing happened, and you’re left staring, blinking, breathing shallowly like prey that narrowly escaped being caught.
you don’t speak, so megumi does, “i have one more thing.” 
and slowly, you unthaw enough to let out a questioning hum. megumi tilts his head before telling you, “i want your last name.” 
“what? you—you would change your name?” you stutter, “but fushiguro is so pretty! and it’s your mom’s name, so few people get their mother’s names.” 
“yeah. this way, our up-to-two children get their mother’s names, too.” 
“i—okay… yeah, i guess they do,” you gape, then pout, “wait, what if i wanted to be mrs. fushiguro?” 
“tough luck,” he grins, “you get everything else.” 
you get me, instead, is what’s left unsaid. 
“okay, fine. sounds like a deal to me.” 
“great. we can’t have a spring wedding because gojo and toji will sneeze obnoxiously loudly, and we can’t have a summer wedding because the anniversary will conflict with our tropical vacation, and nobara will kill us if it’s too close to her birthday,” he says, standing up from the couch to head to the kitchen, “so i’ll see you at the courthouse in september.” 
you nod reflexively, sinking back into the couch with a satisfied smile. it’s a while before your brain processes his words, and when it finally does, you spring up in a fluster, “october? megumi, i said when when we’re thirty-five and if neither of us are already married! megumi? megumi fushiguro, come back here!” 
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emocheol · 27 days
Text
first kiss with seventeen
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seungcheol
gets all nervous
has been planning this for weeks
wants it to be so good so bad that he ends up colliding his forehead with yours when he’s going in
gets all red from embarrassment and makes you swear to never tell anyone about it (so of course you tell everyone)
“please tell me that wasn’t the worst first kiss you’ve had”
“well if that’s what you want to hear…”
jeonghan
makes you make the first move
can tell that you’ve been wanting to kiss him since you’re always looking at his lips, just wants to make you work for it
will spend the entire day teasing you by getting close and then pulling away
you have to grab his face and hold him there to finally kiss him
he won’t ever let you live down the fact that technically you made the first move
“you’re obsessed with me, huh?”
“you’ve been teasing me all day!”
“doesn’t change the fact”
joshua
extremely confident
just makes out with you when he feels the timing is right
can’t get enough and will not stop kissing you
becomes a norm in your relationship for him to kiss you every second he gets
“why are you always kissing me?”
“why? can’t i show my partner how much i love them?”
jun
shy shy shy
makes a whole romantic date and at the end he asks if it’s okay to kiss you
is soooo nervous that you’re going to say no, but of course you say yes
swears that fireworks explode when your lips touch
he is so whipped for you
“i think im in love with you”
“what was that?”
“uhhh i think we need more glue!”
soonyoung
gives it no thought
just spontaneously kisses you when he gets extra happy one day
“babe! look our song is number 1!” and presses a bunch of kisses on your lips
all he remembers is how nice it feels to kiss you
continues to kiss you whenever he feels like it and loves it twice as much whenever you initiate it
“soonyoung! you just kissed me!”
“yeah! did you not like it? :(”
“no it’s okay, do it again”
wonwoo
quite simple about it
will pucker his lips at you and wait for you to kiss him
won’t get embarrassed over it either
he’s in love with you! he’s not scared to show his affection
“wonwoo what are you doing?”
“waiting for you to kiss me, angel”
jihoon
heat of the moment kiss
everything feels so right
feels like he’d be doing you a disservice if he didn’t kiss you
is the most gentle man on the planet and holds your face in his hands
will let you take control of the kiss, just this one time
you’ll be grinning like an idiot
“what was that for?”
“just felt right”
minghao
encourages you to kiss him first
you just got promoted at your job and you’re over the moon about it, so you’re celebrating with minghao
“you can kiss me if you want” he’ll say as if it’s the most casual sentence ever
you get all shy and press a sweet kiss to his lips
he’ll take the lead
“don’t be shy, sweetheart”
“you’re just too handsome :(”
mingyu
he’ll be sick and sulking because he wants to go on your planned date but he can’t get out of bed
profusely apologizes but you won’t accept them because it’s not his fault!
when he won’t stop rambling you’ll lean down and kiss him to shut up him
when you pull away he has a dopey smile on his face
“do that again!”
“i can’t risk getting sick…”
“i’ll nurse you back to health”
pulls you down to him, and pecks your lips a bunch of times
seokmin
#1 gentleman
wine and dine
“i totally understand if you’re not ready but, can i kiss you?” SWOON
makes you feel like the most special person on the planet
will still ask you if he can kiss you multiple times after that
“can i kiss you?”
“seokmin we’ve been together for a year”
“doesn’t hurt to ask!”
seungkwan
smooth so so smooth
you’ll be playing a game and the prize is the winner gets to make the loser do whatever they want
seungkwan wins (of course)
pretends to think about what he wants even though he knows
“kiss me”
“what?!”
“i won so i want you to kiss me”
cue you being a blushing mess and giving seungkwan a light kiss
vernon
gets home from work one day and kisses you when he walks through the door
you’re shocked and he’s acting like it’s an every day occurrence
doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it
(he’s secretly been wanting to kiss you for weeks)
“what was that for?”
“just missed you, baby”
this becomes a regular occurrence when he gets home from work now
chan
nervous as hell
wants to be smooth and he is!
until he’s not
accidentally bites your tongue (a/n: i have had a man bite my tongue before and it hurt for a week)
profusely apologies but he’s such a cutie, how can you be mad?
“i’m so sorry, do you want me to get ice?”
“no, chan, just kiss me again”
does it right this time
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badgerbl00d · 8 months
Text
taking an aphrodisiac and seeing who gives in first
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☆ characters: ace, law, kidd
☆ up next: running into your ex ft. zoro
☆ summary: you take an aphrodisiac together and decide to throw in a competitive edge ; smutty, minimal plot oops
☆ a/n: this is a reupload- the original was deleted for some reason :(; requests are opened and being worked on! enjoy <3
☆ 18+, mdni
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ace
You waited until everyone was asleep to make your way over to Ace’s room. The two of you had decided it would probably be best to not say anything to anyone for a while, at least until you both had more time to get used to being together. 
It still sent shivers down your spine to think about the fact that you were actually dating.
You knocked on his door, using the knocking pattern he’d taught you exactly the way he’d insisted you did. 
“Ace, that’s dumb,” you’d insisted.
“No- I-I’m serious! What if I answer the door naked and Marco’s the one who knocked?”
“Why the hell would you be answering the door naked at all?”
“Well, you know ‘cause it’s, like, sexy.”
You stared at him and decided it would be best to just do a stupid secret knock. 
“...Okay what’s the knock.”
“Haha! Yes! Ok, so knock once, and then twice really fast- like da-dum, OK?”
“Alright,” you said, rolling your eyes.
“Good. Then you’re gonna drumroll on the door for like three whole seconds. After that alternate between left and right twice and then-”
“Ace I’m just gonna knock three times, ok?”
He rolled his eyes, “Fine.”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
You waited for a few seconds before Ace opened the door for you.
He pulled you in for a kiss, a boyish smile plastered on his face.
“My knock would’ve been better.”
You giggled and followed him to his bed, pulling out the chocolate.
The two of you had been sent shopping earlier and came across a stall selling ‘enhanced’ chocolate. After some inquiry, you discovered it was an aphrodisiac, supposed to increase libido. 
You and Ace bought it, giggling like schoolgirls, and decided you’d try it tonight.
“So we just eat it and… bang?”
“Yes, Ace, we eat it and bang.”
“I meant like bang, boom, y’know?”
Well, I meant it like sex. “Here,” you broke the candy in half and handed it to him. 
“Hold on, hold on,” he sat down next to you and pulled you onto his lap, placing a flurry of kisses on your cheek before continuing, “Wanna make it more interesting?”
“Depends what you have in mind.”
“Let’s make a bet- See who lasts longer without giving in.”
You perked up at this.
“What will I get when I win?”
He laughed, “ ‘When?’ I think you mean if. Don’t get overconfident, cutie. How about… I will take you shopping for anything you want.”
“Deal.”
Ace grabbed half of the chocolate and popped it into his mouth, and you followed suit. 
He put on a kids' show you both liked in the background, it was a cute one about a boy and his stretchy dog. He said it reminded him of him and his brothers. The two of you got comfortable on the bed, you sat leaned up against a mountain of pillows, and Ace laid on you, head resting on your thighs.
You played with his hair while he rubbed your legs, as you slowly started to feel the effects of the drug. 
You could tell Ace had started to feel it as soon as he started squirming. 
When he turned over, his stomach against yours, and started to kiss your chest and tummy, you knew you’d won. 
“About that bet…” he said.
“Already?! You didn’t even try! Go sit over there.”
“I’m sorry you’re just so beautiful and soft and I’m so hard it’s starting to hurt.”
You giggled and pulled down the straps of your shirt to tease him. 
“You want this?”
He nodded eagerly. So cute. 
He reached behind you and unhooked your bra, tossing it on the floor.
He watched as your boobs bounced out, and with his hands around your waist, took one into his mouth. 
“A-ah, Ace,” you panted as his warm mouth enveloped your nipple. 
The hot, sticky wetness of his tongue felt so, so good. Your resolve immediately crumbled and you caved to his touch. 
He sucked slightly harder, his teeth gently closing around it. 
“Ace,” you whined, your hands finding their way up his back and into his hair. 
His hands were wrapped around his waist and he was laying on top of you, lined up so that his hardening dick was against your thigh. 
You felt a sudden burst of warmth emanate from his hands, sending a violently pleasurable shiver up your spine. He knew you loved when he involved his devil fruit abilities into your sexual encounters. 
You not-so-gently pulled on his hair as your back arched into his tongue that was persistently lapping at your sensitive nipple. 
He pulled away with a pop.
“M-more, Ace,” you breathed, “I want more.”
He sat up on his knees and clumsily fumbled with his pants, failing to untie the knot at the front. 
“Let me help,” you said, reaching up to untie it for him.
You made eye contact with him as you pulled down his sweats, slipping a finger into the band of his boxers.
He took in a shaky breath, his lips parted in awe. 
“You’re so pretty, you know that?”
You didn’t respond and instead pulled down his boxers. 
He was very long and pleasantly thick. 
You felt yourself getting even wetter at the memory of how he stretched you out last time.
Ace didn’t shave either, you figured he was far too impatient but it was something you absolutely loved.
You wrapped your lips around him, slowly working your way to the base, spit coating his dick. 
He placed a gentle hand in your hair, guiding you along with him as he laid back down on the bed. 
He gathered your hair into a messy ponytail and slowly bobbed your head up and down and up and down against his length- hissing as your tongue slid up his length and swirled around the tip with every movement. 
“F-feels so good,” he said.
You moaned against him, earning an involuntary shudder from your boyfriend.
You wrapped a hand around him, lightly squeezing his spit-soaked cock. 
“N-no, no, no, too much,” he whined, “Gonna cum!”
You started to move your head faster and were abruptly pulled off of him. 
“Let me fuck you first, princess, ‘m gonna cum if you keep going.”
You sighed but relented. 
“That’s the goal, baby,” you said, straddling his hips, and placing your hands on his chest.
“Then let me cum in you,” he begged. 
You lowered yourself down onto his length as he held himself in place for you, moaning as you felt that familiar stretch. 
“F-fuck,” you breathed, “You feel so good- So big.”
“Yeah? You like this position?”
He started to move his hips, fucking up into you. 
“Y-yes, Ace- Fuck! Oh, my god, d-don’t stop!”
Your breathless moans were more than enough to get him up to a delicious pace.
You pressed hot, wet kisses to his mouth, welcoming the abnormally warm sensation in your tummy. 
You knew your boyfriend ran hot and it was the most unexpectedly wonderful thing about having sex with him. 
You were sweating, covered with water droplets that were running down your body.
Ace’s hands dug into you, wet smacking sounds filling the room as you both got closer and closer. 
You cried out with every thrust, and Ace’s head was completely fogged with euphoria. 
Your stomach was twisting and tensing with pleasure, and you rapidly tapped Ace’s chest to let him know you were close. 
He brought an arm up to your throat, gently closing his hand around it. 
You grabbed onto his forearm and pulsed around him wildly as you finished all over him.
With a few more thrusts his hips started to twitch and you could tell by his erratic pace that he was close. 
“G-gonna cum, baby- Gonna cum!”
You tightened around Ace’s cock, and felt the sudden hot spurts of cum filling you up. 
When he was finished, he brushed your hair out of your face and gently tucked it behind your ears before lifting you up to pull out. 
His cum leaked out of you and all over his thighs. 
You laid down onto him, your sticky, sweaty bodies breathing in sync. 
He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head. 
You started giggling and he joined in. 
You slowly sat up and pressed a kiss to Ace’s sweaty forehead before collapsing onto the bed next to him.
He sighed and grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over yours.
“Wanna know something?” he said.
“Hm.”
“I love you!”
“I love you more! Do you wanna know something?”
“Always,” he said. 
“You lose.”
kidd
“Kidd! Hurry up,” you called him into your bedroom. 
You were sitting in bed, the covers messily thrown around you.
He walked into the room, his towel wrapped loosely around his waist, just barely dried off. 
He still had his lipstick on, not having bothered to take it off, it was smudged messily around his lips.
Water beads were running down his chest and arms, and he smelled like lavender and shampoo. 
He loved watching you get ready for bed and had started timing his showers so that he could be in the bathroom at the same time as you.
Something about the routine was so domestic- it made him feel warm inside. He’d never admit it out loud but by the third time he had made it a point to have all his work done so he could shower with you, you’d put two and two together.
He was completely entranced watching you take off your makeup, brush your hair, put on lotion like you always did, and, of course, watching you change. He’d offer to ‘help’ though, in reality, he just wanted an excuse to have his hands on you.
He sat next to you on the bed, reaching over to grab a pair of gray sweatpants you’d set out for him. 
You sat on your knees, wearing an old torn-up t-shirt of his.
In your hands were two small pieces of chocolate, that you and Kidd had been eagerly waiting to eat. 
“I'm here, darlin’,” he said, getting up to put on his pants. 
“Won’t be needing those,” you giggled.
He turned to give you a kiss on your forehead. 
“Ready?”
You kissed him, gently biting his bottom lip.
“That eager, hm?”
Kidd reached for one of the chocolates in your hand, which you moved out of his reach.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, hold on,” you were greeted with an eye roll, “I wanna make a bet.”
Impatience had been starting to show itself on his face until the word ‘bet’ fell from your lips. 
His competitiveness outweighed his short attention span. 
“What kind of bet, love?”
A devilish smile spread on your face, easily Kidd’s favorite of your many expressions, “I think you’re going to be so pathetically desperate that you’ll give in before I even feel it.”
He laughed, and your stomach twisted in anticipation at the way he looked at you after.
“Deal, baby, but what am I gonna get when I win?”
“Whatever you want.”
You blinked up at him, and he felt his dick twitch in his pants. 
His confidence momentarily faltered, before he snatched a chocolate out of your hand and ate it as he made his way out of the room toward his office. 
“I’ll be in there, baby. Working.”
You lay down on your side of the bed and waved him off, grabbing your book from your nightstand. 
You knew five minutes in that you were destined for failure. You tried to focus on the book but the lines were blurring into one another and all you could think of was how Kidd’s hands felt when they were around your throat, or smacking your ass, or pulling you closer into him by your waist. 
After an excruciating twenty minutes of resisting the pooling wetness in between your thighs, you swallowed your pride and made your way to Kidd’s office.
You lightly knocked before walking in, blushing from embarrassment. 
Kidd sat in his office chair, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, beckoning you toward him with a few pats to his lap. 
If you weren’t so achingly desperate to feel that hand grabbing and squeezing you, you would’ve given him a piece of your mind for calling you to him like a dog. 
Yet, like a dog, you obeyed and made your way toward him tail tucked between your legs.
You were dressed in nothing but the t-shirts and a pair of black and white polka dot panties. 
He pulled you onto his lap once you were close enough and you straddled him, sinking your lips eagerly into his, his lipstick smudging across both of your faces.
He loved seeing you like that- he took a guilty pleasure in seeing you marked up, be it by his lipstick or hickeys he wanted to see you completely covered. 
Pulling away from the kiss to look at your lover, you suddenly became very aware of his hardening erection that was pushed snugly against your pussy.
It dawned on you now that had you stuck it out even just a few more minutes you probably would’ve won the bet. But that was the last thing on your mind and all you could think of now was the feeling of familiar hardness against your lower half.
A breath caught in your throat and your own arousal started to soak through your panties.
You could feel your heartbeat pulsing in your clit, the throbbing sensation starting to overwhelm you.
You pawed at his chest, desperate for some kind of give, and slowly started circling your hips against him.
“You like feeling my dick against ya? Hm?”
He patted your cheek lightly when you didn’t answer and you nodded. 
“You want more?”
You nodded again, more enthusiastically this time.
He slapped your face- a little harder this time.
“I want to hear you say it,” he reminded you, holding your face in one hand, your cheeks squished together. 
“Y-yesh, captain, want more,” you moaned, picking up the pace of your grinding against his lap. 
“Sit up for me baby,” he said.
You did, raising your ass from his thighs. 
He pushed your panties to the side and ran a cold, metal finger up your slit, gathering your slick arousal onto it. 
“Ah! Please, Kidd, please. I’ve already lost, so don’t tease!”
He laughed at your desperation, “Quit whinin’ sweetheart, gimme a sec.”
He pulled the waistline of his sweatpants down and his cock sprang up, lying flat against his abdomen. 
The tip was flushed pink and dribbling pre-cum. 
Tentatively, you wrapped your small hand around the base and lightly pumped up and down. 
Kidd made no complaints so you moved your hand with more vigor. 
Your thumb swiped at the leaking slit on his head and used the arousal to pump him faster, earning heavenly moans to fall on your ears.
“Just like that, Y/n.”
You bit your bottom lip and bent down slightly to start pressing wet kisses to his throat as you pleased him.  
You worked your way up to his jaw, and pulled away to look up at him. 
He was in complete euphoria, his head leaning back against the chair, neck completely exposed to you.
You watched as his chest rose and fell, in sync with every up and down motion of your hand. 
You slowly started to get yourself down from his lap- and his head shot up.
“Oi, oi, where’re ya goin’?”
“Shh, baby, just let me make you feel good.”
You could tell he didn’t like this at all, he was always in control.
He told you when to cum, where to lick, what to do, and this was driving him insane.
But the pleasure coursing through his body left his brain feeling too good to question anything.
You knelt down on the floor in front of him and guided his hand to your hair, which he gladly held up. 
“I see,” he mused, a smile spreading on his face, “In that case, go ahead, darlin’.”
You wrapped both hands around the base of his extraordinarily thick cock, bringing the tip towards your already extended tongue.
Your hands worked in unison with your mouth, pumping him while you licked up and down his head.
When he was sufficiently worked up you enclosed your mouth over the smallest amount possible, gathering spit in your mouth.
It dribbled down the underside of his cock, providing you with the necessary lubrication to take him down your throat.
You started slow- Kidd was big and you knew you had to warm up before taking all of him. 
His grip on your hair tightened as your tongue licked the underside of his shaft, and your lips wrapped around the rest of him.
His breathing was getting faster and curses were spilling out of his throat.
You finally took him to the base, your nose getting buried in his pubes.
You gagged and your eyes started to water, but Kidd held your head in place.  
“F-fuck, shh, shh, breathe baby, breathe,” Kidd shuddered out, “Just like that, oh, good girl.”
Tears started falling from your eyes as your Captain sat back up, and started to slowly pump himself in and out of your mouth. 
You could tell by the twitching and tensing of his dick that he was getting close, and your own arousal was starting to drip down your legs. 
You sharply inhaled with every thrust he gave, holding onto his thighs to try and support yourself. 
“So good f’me,” he panted, “Gonna cum soon.”
You moaned against him as he fucked your mouth, gently cupping his balls in one hand. 
“Fuck!”
With no warning you found yourself swallowing hot spurts of cum. 
“MM! Mmf mm mmm-” KIDD! Don’t do that-
He interrupted you with a loud laugh, “Sorry darlin’ I couldn’t help it.”
You swallowed and Kidd lifted you back up onto his lap, wrapping strong arms back around your waist. 
You pulled aside your panties, letting your flooding arousal pour onto him.
You sat up on your knees, letting him rub his length up and down your slit, before slipping the head in.
You winced as you lowered your hips down, taking him fully. 
He pushed up into you once he had bottomed out, earning a generous moan from you- music to his ears. 
His hands tightened around your waist as he started to bounce you up and down, you were so wet that every slight movement was audible and filled the room with the sticky, wet sounds of you sucking him in.
He slid in and out of you so easily, and you were so tender that it wasn’t long until you were close.
With every kiss of his tip against your g-spot the coil in your stomach tightened, a strong, delicious tension pressed against the spot right beneath your tummy. 
The steady smack, smack, smack that had started to fill the room clouded your thinking and you were completely rag-dolled by Kidd who was bouncing you at a relentless pace. 
In a flash of white, hot pleasure you came- hard. Your fingernails dug into your boyfriend’s back, a few even breaking skin. Your thighs pressed against each other and you fell forward, leaning your full body weight against him. 
The both of you sat in silence for a moment, the sound of your breathing filling the room. 
Slowly, you sat up pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. 
“I win.”
Kidd’s brows furrowed, “No, ya fuckin’ don’t. You came in here begging for-”
“So? I walked in and you were already hard, so I won.”
“That’s definitely not how this works, love. You walked in wetter than water-”
“HA! I did not,” you lied, “I wasn’t even wet until I sat on your lap. You’re such a sore loser-”
Kidd laughed, and pressed kisses all over your face, “You’re a terrible liar, love.”
You rolled your eyes. 
“Fine. What do you want as a prize?”
Kidd pulled you closer to him, your breath getting gently pushed out as your chest pressed against his. 
“I want more.”
law
You flipped through the pages of a special Valentine’s Day magazine, dog-earing the pages of clothing shops and restaurants you wanted to visit with your boyfriend when he had time. 
He was sitting at his desk, just a few feet away from you organizing medical files and equipment into his drawers. 
His music was playing in the background, out of a small speaker you got him for his twenty-fifth birthday. 
A smooth saxophone melody danced over a relaxing, steady drum beat. 
He loved jazz.
Helps me concentrate, he’d said. 
It had grown on you after a year of listening to it every night and there were few things you found yourself enjoying more than these late nights with your boyfriend, each of you doing your own thing while still enjoying the other’s company. 
You were the cutest, sweetest thing in the world to Law, and on nights like these, he liked watching you when you thought he was completely absorbed in his work.
He watched as you’d read, play a video game, or map out your next course. 
Laying on your stomach, you swished your feet in the air behind you, gently rocking them to and fro- a sign Law knew far too well.
“Bored, baby?”
You stilled your feet, feeling guilty that he noticed.
“A little,” you admitted, “And this magazine is making me sad.”
He quirked an eyebrow, asking for elaboration.
“It’s full of cute romantic stuff to do, but who knows if we’ll even get a chance. What with being outlaws and all.”
He smiled and put away the rest of the mess in front of him before sitting on the bed next to you.
You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, and laid your head down against his shoulder. 
“If you want to go to any of these places, you just let me know and we’ll go. Any marines or bounty hunters that try to intervene will be sorry.”
You giggled, “Should we plan out our Valentine’s Day then?”
He nodded.
“But first, I have something for you.”
You sat up at this, looking up at him with your big doe eyes.
He pulled out a small piece of chocolate from his pocket. 
“Oh! Thank you! Is it dark chocolate ‘cause I don’t like the other kinds-”
You reached for it, but Law pulled back before you could grab it.
“Tsk, tsk- Hold on, my love. 
We’re going to split it.”
You found it somewhat odd that you’d split such a small piece of chocolate and furrowed your brows, earning a laugh from your boyfriend who was unwrapping the candy.
“It’s an aphrodisiac.”
Oh! Your eyes widened, and eagerness pooled into them.
He froze for a second, “Shit- wait! Should I have waited until Valentine’s Day? This would’ve been a good surprise, dammit.”
You laughed out loud at his sudden change in demeanor and quickly reassured him that it was perfectly fine.
“Good to have a test round anyway, no?”
He kissed your forehead and handed you a piece. 
As you ate he continued, “To make it a little more interesting, you’re gonna go to the library and I’ll go to the operation room. Whoever gives in first loses.”
“What constitutes giving in?”
“Asking for sex.”
You stood up, stretching your body out, fingertips extending toward the roof. 
Walking out you stood at the doorway, turning to look back at your lover.
“You’re gonna lose.”
“I am? Oh, but what if I do this,” he said before he suddenly stood up and walked toward you, “Please, Y/n.”
Your panties flooded upon hearing these words, so sickly sweet and needy, and you pressed your thighs together.
Law slowly knelt on the floor in front of you, placing a large hand on the outside of each of your thighs.
He sank lower before you and pressed soft kisses up your legs, stopping at your knees.
Your heartbeat quickened and you could hear your breathing, now made up entirely of fast inhales and exhales like your lungs were trying to catch up with the frenzied, eager mess between your thighs. 
A hand made its way between your knees and Law looked up to you, as though asking for permission to part them. 
Your lips were parted and glossy, you looked so sweet and cute that he could feel his cock throbbing in his pants, the denim tightening around it. 
This kind of eagerness, this lust that filled him had been completely unknown to him before meeting you. 
He pushed your legs apart and his tongue attached to your left thigh, licking a long, wet stripe up it, stopping right before your pussy.
It took immense willpower to not give in right then and there, to not sink his tongue and lips into your wet, dripping heat. To stop himself from indulging in that feeling of the fat of your pussy smothering his face.
But he instead turned to your right thigh, licking and biting his way up it, marking your legs with love marks. Littered hues of dark browns and purples mixed with vibrant reds and pinks covered your thighs. 
Your bottom lip trembled as you ignored every sensation traveling in and on your body. Your nerves were aching, screaming for you to ask Law to touch you. Beg him, if you had to.
But you resisted- blinking back the tears that pooled on your lower lash line in an attempt to refocus. 
The surgeon took note of your resolve and decided to make it crumble.
He lifted your shirt up and over your head and unhooked your bra.
He watched, with an unnerving intensity as your tits jiggled around and softly pinched at your nipples.
Your cheeks were hot to the touch and goosebumps flooded your skin. 
“A-ah-,” you moaned as he started to lick and suck your nipples, getting rougher and rougher. He held your breasts in his hands and pushed them against each other, sloppily licking over any and everything he could reach with his tongue. 
You openly moaned now, completely overcome by the euphoric sensation you were feeling.
His tongue was soft and warm and wet and sticky and felt so, so good over your aching breasts that had been eager for his touch. 
“L-law, please- Oh, my god, yes! Yes,” you whined and writhed under his touch.
He pulled away with a pop, “You like it that much, bunny?”
You fervently nodded and your hands found their way onto his head, tangling themselves in his dark black hair. 
“C’mere, baby,” he said, pulling you in for a kiss.
You snaked your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, savoring how he tasted. 
Pressing a hand against your chest, he laid you down on the couch and grabbed your legs placing them over his shoulders.
Your stomach tensed up, and you could feel your desperate pussy start to twitch. 
He lowered himself so he was level with your soaked panties and placed a kiss right on top of your clothed clit, earning a series of pathetic whines from you. 
You reintroduced your hands to his hair, gently pulling and tugging him toward your needy heat. 
“This is what you want?” 
He ran a long finger up and down your slit.
“Yes! Please, please Law. E-eat me out, ‘m so so wet for you,” you begged.
He pushed your panties to the side, and with a pointed tongue, licked up and down your slit- never quite touching your clit. He gathered the slick pouring out of your hole on his tongue and spit it back onto your pussy.
The teasing continued as he sucked and softly bit your lips, licking everywhere but the aching bundle of nerves that you could feel throbbing.
“Don’t tease!” you cried, desperate for him to give you what you wanted. 
 He laughed and with torturous slowness, started to lick your pulsing bud.
It was euphoric- waves of hot, warm pleasure flooded your body as you sunk your nails into the couch cushions, moans spilling from your lips.
He knew exactly what he was doing, where you liked him to apply more pressure, and where to ease off. 
He had an iron grip on your thighs, dimpling the flesh where his fingers held onto you.
Your moans got less consistent and more strained as you got closer.
“Just like that, baby,” you panted, “Gonna cum!”
As he heard this, he pulled you even closer toward his mouth and your back slid down the wall.
His grip tightened on your thighs and would have been painful if not for how sweetly he was eating you out. 
The obscene wet sounds of licking and slurping and sucking echoed off the walls of his room and you felt your core tightening as you got closer, your hips bucking up into Law’s face out of desperation. 
In a split second, the winding cord snapped and you gasped, digging your hands into the tangled mess that was Law’s hair. 
He slowly pulled his face away from your pussy completely soaked.
He had a drunk look in his eyes and you could already feel yourself wanting more.
Law picked you up, palming your ass, and carried you back to his bed. 
The clock read 6:34 a.m. when the two of you finally went to shower. 
Law did most of the work for you, as you were about ready to pass out. 
He pressed soft kisses on your soapy shoulders and dried you off when you were done. 
He went and grabbed your favorite pajamas for you and tucked you into bed with a soft kiss. 
“And by the way, my love.” 
You turned to look at him, lips still puffy from his assault on them. 
Law took a moment to appreciate the way your nipples poked through the thin silk of your nightgown, and how gently your chest rose and fell as you started to fall asleep. 
He sat next to where you lay on the bed, running a hand through your hair and rubbing circles on your back.
You turned up to look at him, beckoning for him to kiss you.
He bent down, your lips practically touching. 
As a sly smile spread over your face you told him, 
“Technically speaking, I win.”
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thekitsunesiren · 11 months
Text
Dc x Dp Prompt #29
Okay! I have seen plenty of prompts on both tumblr and Ao3 to think of one of biggest misunderstandings that I could think of for Dc x Dp.
Amity Park being mistaken for a base camp for training child soldiers.
Because think of it!
Mr. Lancer's class all going to Gotham and being unphased by everything that was happening. In fact, some of them seemed even excited at the possibility of interacting with a rogue or possibly fighting them. And teacher did nothing but give them light warnings about causing too much trouble.
Of course it was thought to be big talk from outsiders who didn't know how dangerous Gotham truly was. Once they dealt with their first villain, they'd see how much trouble they really were in for.
But the thing was, they didn't.
Oh, they dealt with a criminal alright. It was the Penguin. He held up one of the museums the class was touring for some priceless item that he wanted.
Of course, Penguin thought that the group of newcomers were going to cow under the sight of the criminal and his goons. But standing there, he immediately found out of wrong he was.
The group didn't look scared. No. They looked excited at the sight of him and his goons.
A few of the teens were brimming with excitement at the sight of the criminal, though a few did look a bit disappointed. Not afraid-disappointed! He heard a few whispers of how upset that "the Joker wasn't the one to show" or "how they expected someone else to show up". Those words were enough to make his blood boil.
You know what? Screw these kids! He was going to show them that The Penguin wasn't someone you just go around and make fun of. So, he orders a few goons to put the kids in their place. Confident that once they were thrown around a bit, they'd know what kind of trouble they're in for when they come to Gotham.
But they. Don't. Get. Scared!
Not even a little bit. Not even a small flinch. He swore that he saw a few of them yawn! If the threat of roughening up wasn't going to do anything, then some action would definitely was. A goon thought this as they reached out to try and grab one of the students. Unfortunately, that student he grabbed was Valerie Gray, and she didn't take well to some stranger trying to grab her like that. Well, one shoulder throw lead to a brawl between gangsters and a bunch a teens that were touring around. And, to the horror of both the Penguin and all Gothamites watching, the teens won. All goons were seen on the floor either groaning or unconscious, the teens above them looking satisfied with their work, and their teacher on the sidelines looking irritated of the whole thing. Thankfully, the police arrived not too soon after that to arrest the goons and the penguins themselves; leaving all Gothamites confused about what just happened.
And it didn't stop there.
All over Gotham, both civilians and rogues alike would experience the oddity that would be the Amity bunch.
A barista witnessed Paulina stop a robbery with a well practiced kick in her high heels, all while the girl muttered about her morning coffee before going back to her order like nothing happened.
An old woman was saved from a mugging by a group of jocks. Though seeing as one stopped it by grabbing the mugger by the scruff of his neck, she supposed that the blond was the only one that she needed. And multiple civilians all over Gotham took note of a black haired and blue eyed kid that walked around with a goth girl and a boy with a red beanie. If he wasn't mistaken as a Wayne kid, he was causing havoc that had him on the news either way. Already the kid was caught fighting the Joker twice on purpose! As if he didn't seem crazy enough.
Strength, not scared by any of the rogues, even openly fighting the rouges? This class was continuing to grow on the "do not mess with" the longer they're in Gotham with everything they do.
And if you were to ask their teacher, he would simply sigh and say "There's so much he could do to control those hellions." It wasn't long before the Wayne family caught onto their arrival, and became immediately suspicious. A group of teens with abilities like that and fighting both rogues and goons as if they were nothing wasn't a mere coincidence. And from a place called Amity Park that's supposed to be the most "Haunted Place on Earth", there's no way something fishy going on.
Bruce, Tim, and Damian are the first to believe that they are all child soldiers of some sort. The youngest pointing out that Danny was one possibly meant to infiltrate their family for an unknown reason. The rest of the family are still cautious, but still don't know what they are here for.
Now they just had to get close enough to find out the reason the class was really here without setting off any alarms the possible assassins could have.
But they didn't take account the total weirdness they might face in infiltrating the class.
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little-pondhead · 4 months
Text
[this is kind of a messy ramble, sorry about that]
Demon Twins AU, except Danny is loyal to the League.
The League of Assassins is a “cult” for a reason. They know what they’re doing. Ra’s has been around for a very long time; he’s seen every trick in the book and then some.
So when his daughter Talia gave him two, near-identical twin grandsons, he had already planned out their lives by the time the sun had set on their first day living. He knew the plans weren’t perfect. Nothing ever went exactly how he wanted it to. But that was the joy of being absolutely fucking ancient. Ra’s adapted better than anyone. If something went wrong, Ra’s will simply work around the issue and live to see another day.
So the boys were raised as he wished. Ruthless, with sharp blades and even sharper wit. They matched each other in every way, blow for blow. Neither won more than the other, and Ra’s encouraged the competition between the twins. Eventually, the battle for title of Heir came, and Damian won that particular match.
Danny was fine with this. Thrilled, even, for his brother to earn the title of Heir. The boys were very close, and worked well to take down targets twice their size. Ra’s approved this, and granted Danny title of Shadow. He was to be Damian’s eternal shadow, a guard. Both Talia and the boys were pleased with this.
But then came the time for the boys to learn how to live without each other. They’d gotten too used to someone guarding their back. Too complacent and too confident in their roles. Ra’s knew it would happen, and so sent Danny off at a very young age to live with some sleeper agents in America.
The Fentons.
Damian would stay here, with Talia, to learn how to be the perfect Heir. He needed to learn how to fight without the assistance of his brother.
Danny would go to Amity Park, and be fostered by the Fentons. He needed to put his skills to practical use and learn how to live without constant orders.
This was their Test.
Damian did quite well, for a while. Until Talia sent him off to his birth father, The Bat. Reports on his behavior declined in quality after that, and Ra’s couldn’t help but feel dissatisfaction with how the Heir had been corrupted.
Danny’s reports were always immaculate, however. His mask never slipped, and he’d worked himself into the hearts of the townspeople. The sleeper agents, Jack and Maddie, had a daughter who was quite enthusiastic about the properties of the mind, and accept Ra’s instructions to teach Danny with ease. It was the ideal situation.
In Ra’s eyes, Danny was thriving. Damian was not.
And then Ra’s died. The League was in shambles. Damian was at peace with his family, away from the cult he grew up in. He assumed Danny had defected years ago, since their mother stopped giving him reports about his twin.
Then Danny showed up at the Wayne’s doorstep, decked out in full League attire, angry and hostile.
“Tell me, dear brother,” he spat. “Why did you not inform me that Grandfather had died? I had to find out through his spirit when it came to visit from the afterlife!”
Damian didn’t know what to say.
#DPxDC#pondhead blurbs#just#Danny and Damian grew up in a CULT#cults have a reputation for a reason#Danny had no reason to even think about defecting throughout his entire childhood#if being loyal to his grandfather was an issue clockwork would have told him#Dan would have told him#the Fentons are part of a league faction operating out of the US#even Jazz is loyal to them and started viewing Ra’s as a grandfather figure the few times he came to visit#Danny LOVES his assassin grandpa and nobody in amity blinks an eye at him#Ra’s does know about the Fenton portal and phantom#because why wouldn’t Danny tell him?#Ra’s dies and his spirit immediately heads over to where he knows the portal is so he can get some help#ghost Ra’s: my grandson. it’s been too long.#Danny with the worst voice crack: why are you DEAD#Talia is still in hiding#or doing whatever she’s supposed to be doing idk#Danny shows up to ream Damian out and yell at him for his disloyalty#everyone is extremely worried about what Danny will do because he is very obviously still in deep with the league#he doesn’t like the talk about being ‘free’ because he was always free. tf you talking about Grayson.#also Damian doesn’t know about the full properties of the Lazarus pits or ectoplasm. he’s the Heir not the Head. that’s private stuff#Ra’s is a smug bastard using his grandson as a way to get revenge on the living#Danny is HIS shadow now.#I must stress Danny is pretty much the same as canon but literally just loyal to his grandpa Ra’s#maybe Ra’s meets clockwork? Ra’s x Clockwork?#their ship name is Sun Dial now I’ve decreed it
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opennwindows · 8 months
Note
May I request a smoll eyeless jack x f reader nsfw story? Or headcanons?
eyeless jack x fem reader NSFW hcs
cw: 18+ content, medical kink, breeding kink, biting, blood, kinda disrespecting boundaries?? kinda not??, afab fem aligned reader
a/n: hey let’s all ignore my wildly different formatting for each post until i figure out wtf i’m doing lmfao. i decided to do hcs for this since i enjoy rambling and i have a couple fics already lined up and those take significantly longer for me to write!! i hope that’s okay anon, i just want to get more stuff posted :) also i threw a bunch of random ideas together for this so if you’d like anything else more specific please req again!
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sooo we all know eyeless jack is a demon, right? to say dude is into some freaky shit would be an understatement.
- jack has a higher sex drive than most due to his demon tendencies. pair that with the rush he gets after a good evening of organ harvesting and you’re in for a Very Long Night. his stamina is also no joke.
- wear a short skirt? it’s getting cut off with his scalpel. accidentally slice your finger while chopping vegetables? well you better turn off the stove because he’s bending you over it. he senses you’re ovulating? he’s fucking you twice as much.
- if you’re into medical play and getting cut up with surgery tools he will be over the moon.
- if not, you’re gonna have to have a sit down talk with jack. he will do his best, but he can end up viewing you as just a lowly human at times. you’re gonna have to put your foot down sternly to fully gain his respect. he cares about your boundaries (somewhat), it just takes a minute to get through to his human side.
- on that note, don’t even dream of dominating him. he’ll laugh in your face and restrain you if the idea even crosses your mind. the thought of a weaker being telling him what to do during sex is comical to jack. he might let you ride him if he’s feeling lazy, but his clawed hands will be gripped around your waist as a silent reminder of who’s in charge.
- he’s into degradation. not the typical “you’re a whore” shit. no, this guy will take every chance to remind you that you’re just a fragile little human that’s only breathing because he lets you. if you feed into his ego, jack will reward you with his face between your thighs for hours.
- ooh let me take a moment to talk about this monster’s tongue. godly is an ironic term to describe anything involving jack but it’s the only fitting word. it’s long, slightly textured, quick and strong. he looooves to edge you until you inevitably break and the only words you can form are broken pleas. you’re gonna have to pry him off of you during your periods. he’s a little nasty
- jack will pretty much refuse to cum anywhere that isn’t inside you or your mouth. during sex, he tends to fully give into his animalistic demon qualities. meaning the only thing running through his mind is ‘breed, breed, breed.’
- big corruption kink. like MASSIVE. i think all the pastas have some form of corruption kink, but obviously the whole demon thing brings it to a new level. if you were a virgin when you met him, he’s gonna have to physically restrain himself from pouncing on you the second its brought up in conversation.
- let’s talk about positions. jack’s not really picky as long as he’s fucking your brains out but he does have a few favorites. mating press is almost always a winner since it feeds into his need to breed (i crack myself up). missionary is a classic that ensures he can have complete control. jack is also a fan of fucking on operating tables???? don’t ask me ask him, he’s odd. his least favorites involve 69, cowgirl, or pretty much anything that involves you on top of him. he doesn’t really get tired so doing all the work doesn’t bother him.
- will 100% spit in your mouth and he doesn’t care if you think it’s gross. get used to it sorry. if you’re into it then you’ve won.
- probably will throw a tantrum if he finds out you masturbated without him. he’s given you so much special attention and you still want more? well. he’s gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll be too sore to even think about touching yourself. i’m praying for you girl good luck.
- LOVES TO BITE ON YOUR CHEST AND NECK. i cannot stress this enough. and he WILL draw blood, i mean his mouth is full of sharp teeth so it’s basically a given. bro will be fucking you and straight up take a drink break FROM YOUR THROAT. be prepared to never show your neck or cleavage in public ever again. unless you’re into that. then you go girl, we’re all cheering for you.
- jack thinks it’s hilarious to say terrifying unsexy shit during sex. “i can’t wait to cut you open and eat those delicious kidneys that belong to me….” you just look at him with your mouth open. you’d be better off ignoring his annoying ass he (probably) doesn’t mean it.
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victoria-grimesss · 9 months
Text
locked on target
masterlist
->Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader
->Words: 4.7k
->Warning: MDNI! unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, mask stays partially on, dirty talk.
->Summary: Working alongside the 141 for a year now, you’ve grown closer to the infamous ghost. Confiding in Soap about your crush, confession is the only way to rid yourself of the gnawing infatuation. 
->A/N: Despite all my writing being about König, ghost is my all time favorite baby girl, writing for him always intimidated me but I’ll give it my best shot, hope he’s not too OOC.
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It’s been a full year on the 141 and you couldn't be happier, well not happy at the moment since you’re ankle deep in sludge. This mission is going as well as any other despite the evac being miles away through humid weather and wet ground. 
“Good thing I packed extra socks.” You muttered, readjusting your gun and pack and unsticking your boot from a deep pocket of mud.
“Oh come on lass it could be worse right? We could be treading through anaconda infested waters huh? Lighten up.” Soap is next to you. He's having an easier time removing his boots from the muck. 
Price is in the front with Gaz next to him talking about the evac and rations, you admire their relationship. Price has slowly morphed into some kind of a father figure to you as you assume he did for Gaz too or at least a mentor. Gaz and Soap are like brothers to you, you bicker like such. You pick on Soap when he gets too drunk to form correct sentences and starts singing songs from his childhood, and you get Gaz too when he laughs so hard you have to remind him to breathe. Like a dynamic triangle the three of you.
Then there’s Ghost.
He stands at the back of the group behind you and Soap, no evident trouble for him when it comes to the mud. He’s sturdy and observant, keeping a close eye on the treeline and behind the group. He's a great soldier and you admire his skills… and him. Ever since you met him you’ve had your eyes trained. 
I mean who wouldn’t.
From his expressive eyes which sometimes you feel look through you, to his broad shoulders where he holds the world on top of them, his strong arms that deal with enemies swifty, to…his… lower extremities that you certainly have only thought of once or twice. Maybe more. 
You should be ashamed of your feelings, and you lock them down deep the only time they have slipped past your lips is when too much alcohol loosens them. 
You confessed one night to soap, the rest were asleep and your insomnia was kicking your ass so you went to the parking lot where soap was nursing a bottle on the hood of his car, and you sat down and shared it.
“Something on your mind bonnie?” He hands the bottle to you, concern brewing in him.
“I don’t know, it’s just, Ghost.”
He laughs.
“Yea, I know about him, but what about him?” 
You take a couple large gulps of the amber liquid, it burns its way down and soothes your aching wanting heart, burying the hopeless romantic in you. Tears brew in your eyes and you always forget you either become a laughing drunk or a sappy drunk, seems the latter had won tonight.
“Aye- lass, what's wrong.” His hand is placed on your shoulder offering a comforting touch.
You sob and laugh at the same time, looking up at Soap.
“I think I’m in love with him.” You say quietly through a stream of tears that make their way into your mouth, making a weird cocktail of salty liquor.
“Oh bonnie…” Soap rubs your back, his voice is soft.
“I just, everything about him Johnny! I can’t get him out of my head, and he probably doesn't even look at me that way, he could get any girl he wanted!” You sob.
“Woah there calm down, gonna throw yourself into a spell talking like this. Look. LT cares about ya, truly. He thinks you’re a valued member of the team and I’ve caught him starin’ a few times so don’t be daft now ya hear. You’re a pretty girl and LT would be lucky to have ya.”
You sniff, wiping the tears and snot with a sleeve.
“Really? You think so?”
“Cross my heart and hope ta die. You’ll be alright.”
“It’s in my shoes.” You deadpan.
You hear Gaz laugh and Price looks back, checking on the team.
“Don’t worry Y/N, just imagine it’s a mud bath! Your skin will be smooth and shiny before you know it!” Soap laughs at Gaz’s antics, it’s nice when you can all joke around and relax. The hard part is over and now it’s simple evac.
“Right… how soothing.” Your eyes roll and you look back to check on Ghost, your eyes meet and a flash of electric lightning shoots to your heart, it feels good. 
He gives a quick nod and you return to your trudging. You wait till after the mission to pass any other signals, he’s too focused to register any flirting right now. Or that's the advice Soap gave you after that night.
“Right. Keep close by, chopper is land down in 5, need to evac quickly to avoid any unwanted looks.” Price alerts to the rest of the team once you’ve covered ground and are nearing sweet release. Your back and knees ache just at the thought of sitting. You nurse the last of your water and keep walking, you tip your bottle back along with your head to get the remaining drops and you trip over a protruding root.
Other foot trying to catch yourself a hand catches on your upper arm, righting you up.
“Alright there?” Ghost’s dark eyes are steady on you, maybe a bit amused, or maybe his eye paint is creasing.
“Yea, sorry just tryna finish off the bottle, didn't see that there.”
“Careful next time yea?” He releases your arm and waits for you to start walking again to pick up behind you.
“Yea, for sure LT.”
You feel his hand on your arm even after he released you and you want to untie the knot that Ghost has tied there and you know you’re royally fucked.
You’re all on the chopper and your legs just about give out, you always love the euphoric feeling of sitting down after a mission like this, the lactic acid in your muscles making them burn like no other. You sit across from Ghost and he visibly relaxes once the chopped takes off, the breeze from the open doors cooling everyone immensely.
“Good work everyone, I know evac was shit but you all hustled and we got the intel we needed. I think we all deserve a good ol drink when we get back right?” 
Price brings a smile to everyone's face, as tired as the lot of us are. You glance over at Ghost and his eyes look away from you, looking over his gear.
Your heart pains for some kind of acknowledgment that he feels the same, it’s like trying to hold the same fistful of sand no matter how hard you try it seeps through your fingers, you want him so badly you’d tape your fist shut if that meant keeping the sand in.
Back to base, ‘same day different shit’ you heard Ghost say one time. You often hold on to everything he says, hoarding each little piece he feeds you and storing it away somewhere special. Like you’re hoarding food for the winter, as if the winter is him falling in love with a woman that isn't you, when that happens you’ll open your little box of his sayings and advice and eat them slowly, savor them until all that’s left to drink is the tears you drown yourself in as consolation. 
A pity party is what you throw yourself that night, showering and getting a once over by the medic then making your way back to your room, Price wants to get everyone together tomorrow night for a drink, wouldn't hurt you think. You sit on the edge of your bed, the silence is deafening after a mission, tinnitus ringing your ears. The bed is cold, you want someone to warm it, you want Ghost to warm it.
The nightmares come to you quickly that night, visions of your team, your friends being ripped apart by bullets as you try to fire back into mist. You hold Ghost’s hand as he fades and you wake up coated in cold sweat and adrenaline.
3:18 a.m.
You toss and turn for a minute before huffing and leaving the bed, you need air. Adorned in sweatpants and a shirt you got on recruitment day you leave your room the sound of your door is loud and you wince as it closes. You go to the parking lot once more, maybe there will be more stars out tonight. 
The air is crisp and cool, you round the corner of the building where a bench sits, a lone figure is sitting and smoking there, you can tell it’s him by his silhouette. He’s broad and his legs spread wide as he sits alone.
“This seat taken?” You ask, scared if you talk too loud he’ll leave.
“All yours” No inflection is evident in his tone.
Silence sits between you two and you take a harsh breath to break it. It makes you uncomfortable. 
“Trouble sleeping?” His voice is deep and low.
“The usual, nightmares again. You?” 
“Not tired, too soon after the mission to sleep.”
“I understand.” 
You watch him carefully as he brings the cigarette to his lips and inhales, you inhale with him. You imagine him inhaling your perfume as his lips touch your neck. You stare, unabashedly, like you’re not scared if he catches you.
He adjusts where he sits, hips rolling to get more comfortable.
“Bloody bench feels like it’s made of spikes.” He mutters, quietly.
You breathe out a laugh as he exhales the smoke.
His eyes look to the side at you and then forward again.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” 
“Like you want something from me.”
“What if I do?” 
Your heart is racing now, faster than it had on any given mission.
He stands, throwing the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his boot, he slips his mask down again and his eyes are locked on you.
“I’d say you’d better fuckin’ find it elsewhere, we both know I can’t give you what you want.”
“What do I want Simon?” 
His lips grow sealed when you say his name.
“Things I’m incapable of providing, best leave it at that. Night sergeant.”
His tone meant business, you know better than to chase after him. You sit on the bench, staring at the cigarette on the ground. It’s beaten and crushed like you feel right now.
You wonder if you can still taste his lips on it.
The walk of shame back to your room is humiliating, you pass some others that can’t sleep, nightmares aren't anything special around here and you wish you could pluck the worries from their heads.
Sleep is easy after that, maybe your body wants to make you forget the encounter with him but even so you dream of him. He’s an inescapable phantom.
“Aye there she is!!” Soap hollers from across the pub, it’s a quaint place, quiet enough to not be annoying but lively enough to not feel desolate.
A large corner booth is what they occupy and you wave as you make your way over, A few empty glasses scatter the table already you arrived ‘fashionably late’.
“Hey bonnie I gotta take a leak you can have my seat yea?” He nudges Ghost so he can be let out of the booth, Ghost stands towering over you. Soap shuffles over to the bathroom and Ghost  lets you slide into the booth before he follows, trapped between the wall and him. You’d rather be under him…
You greet them all and Gaz slides you a tall glass of something mind numbing, Ghost has his mask down but he’s nearly finished with his glass same with the rest of them.
“You got some catching up to do, miss fashionably late.” Gaz shoots a smile and you clink your glasses together.
Soap meanders back and pulls a chair to sit at the end of the table, you all squabble over what a better drink is and down rounds after rounds. The conversation somehow gravitates to relationships at some point and Soap is going on and on about this woman he met at the pub down the street.
“Oh she’s a real sweetheart, thinking about asking her out later this week when I get the balls to do it.”
You smile at the way Soap talks about her, you’d love to be admired like that, treasured.
“I think you should go for it Johnny! You're a nice guy, I can go in there and talk you up if you want, say you fought off ten men to save my life.”
He laughs, nearly tipping off his chair, 
“You’re a real wingman Y/N, if you can secure a date by all means.”
You smile and the air is joyous, little is heard from Ghost but you know he likes seeing the team happy, he sips his drink and observes, smiles hidden by his mask.
“Have you had any luck on the dating scene Y/N?” 
Gaz questions, eyebrows rising.
“Yea bonnie, never hear a peep out of you when we talk about lovey dovey shit.”
You shrug, taking strong sips of your drink.
“I went on a date a while back, he got me flowers, a real nice guy. Found out he was sleeping with my friend behind my back around the fourth date. Don’t really want to try anymore, end of story.”
You can feel Ghost’s eyes burning into you as you finish the sentence. His gaze is addicting and you feel sweaty locked in his stare.
“Well he’s a proper twat for messing it up with you then yea?” 
Price offers a tip of his head, sympathy in his eyes.
“Ah it’s alright, I’ll just wait for my prince charming to come sweep me off my feet.” You bat your lashes dramatically and fake a swoon, soothing the old memory with jokes. It turns the tide of the table ambiance to a lighter one.
“I need to piss.” Ghost says quickly, you scoot out of the seat and Ghost hurries off to where Johnny has gone to earlier.
“What’s up his arse?” Gaz says confused.
Price downs the last of his drink and slams it back onto the table.
“What do you all say to a game of pool?”
“I’ll watch, cheer ya’ll on.” You still nurse your drink and you start to buzz, worries slipping away like papers, but one it left, weighted down with a large paperweight.
“I’ll be right there, gonna finish this drink off.” Soap says, sloshing the leftover liquid that's in his glass.
“Very well, see you momentarily.”
Soap watched the two walk off, leaving the two of you left alone.
He turns back quickly, you get secondhand whiplash.
“Ghost has had his eyes on you the whole night please tell me you told him and he confesses his secret love for you!” Soaps eyes are huge and he’s pleading for the right answer.
“Not exactly.” He delfates.
“What the fuck do you mean ‘not exactly’?”
“I told him that I kinda wanted him and he said he wouldn't be able to give me what I want.”
“That's bollocks and you know it! He’s always watching you, never seen him doing that for any other lass. Now is the time, he’s all alone. Go on and chat him up, I’ll tell the boys you’ve gone home sick alright.” 
Soap winks and leaves before you can utter another word. You even your breathing and gulp down the rest of the liquid courage before strolling over to the bathroom hallway. It does not take guys that long to pee weird he's not around.
You walk outside, feeling deja vu from last night the breeze hits the same way.
“You should go inside, it’s cold out.” Ghost is standing leaned up against the brick wall next to the door.
“I was looking for you actually.”
He stands up straighter, shoulders held further.
“Lads looking? Not really in the mood to lose another game. Last time was enough.”
You laugh, the alcohol making it easier to relax around him. You're tipsy enough to have fake confidence for the time being but sober enough to make deductions wisely.
“No Simon, I’m looking. For you.”
“And I told you to stop, you don’t know what you’re thinking. You’re a nice girl yea? Find a nice young guy that can take you on dates and buy you flowers-
“I don’t want anyone else Simon. I want you because I’m in love with you!”
It seems like the whole world went silent after you said that. You’re steaming and don’t move your eyes away from him.
“Y/N.”
“I’m tired of pretending. I just had to tell you I couldn't hold it in any longer it was making me sick. I don’t care about fancy stuff, you should know that by now. I just want to be next to you.”
He approaches you, your neck craning to maintain contact.
“Y/N, I’m proper fucked up you know that? You’re too kind, too perfect to be ruined by a man like me.”
You sniff, the cold getting to you.
“I think you’re wonderful Simon really. You look out for everyone and make sure everyone is alright before looking after yourself. Let me please show you you’re worth loving in return.”
Your heart spills to him, spewing it’s contents violently.
“I’m not joking, I'm not ‘prince charming’ like you referenced earlier.”
“Even better.” You smile.
“Fuck it.”
Before you know it, he lifted the small portion of his mask to kiss you and you erupt, wrapping your arms securely around his neck as though you’ll fall if you don’t. His hands hover over your waist and you grab them and push them down onto your body and he pulls you close. He kisses you like it’s the last time, he makes up for all the times he should have, all the time he desperately wanted to.
He’s watched from afar for so long, your laugh creates sparks in his heart, seeing you make it back from another mission safely spurs him on. He would lay down his life for you and you don’t even know it.
He pulled back, mouth in the crook of your neck.
“Your place is nearby right?” You ask, rubbing his neck and down his back.
“Yea, yea it is.”
He leads you back, back to his den where he’ll draw you in with those eyes and that voice, calloused hands exposed from his gloves that will trace over your skin. The walk is in silence but you both are buzzing, the team won’t miss you, probably happy this chasing game is over with so peace can be established once more. He takes your hand as he leads you up the steps to his apartment, you grope his arm and he shoots you a sultry side-eye.
“Have I ever told you I love your arms?”
“You did just now love.”
Love, love, love. You want him to keep saying it.
He leads you in you’re caged in by his arms on the inside of the door. He looks you over head to toe.
“You look fuckin lovely tonight you know that? All I’ve been thinking about is tearing this top off of you and stripping you down.”
You shiver and bring your hands to run carefully from his abdomen up to his chest.
“You think of ripping my clothes off frequently?”
“Very.”
Stunned by his words and your head swimming he places his hands on your waist and lowers his head to your ear.
“Now if you’d allow me, I’d like to fuck you now.”
Hypnotized you speak.
“Yes please.”
His home is lowly lit and sparsely decorated, you assume he’s not here often or for long.
The bedroom is simple, a bed, two side tables, two lamps, and a dresser. An adjacent bathroom you can’t see.
“You have a nice place.”
“Well now I know you’re lying.”
You stand at the edge of the bed and he stands before you and his hands are on you again pushing you onto the bed you are surrounded by the smell of him, the deep umber and woodsy scent. 
“You know how many times I’ve pictured you in my bed?”
He’s inching your pants down your hips agonizingly slow as he speaks.
“How many times I fucked myself picturing you instead?”
“Ghost.”
“Nah none of that here, you’re gonna say my real name from now on and you’re gonna scream it alright?”
“Fuck Simon.”
“Yea. Just. Like. That.” Your pants are off and his hands move from your ankles up to your knees and caress to your inner thighs. His fingers skate your pantyline and your eyes are locked on his hand and he doesn't stop. His hands move over your hips and grip your waist before moving right below your breasts, he checks you with his eyes and you plead silently.
He cups you fully with both hands and you roll your head savoring his feelings.
“So fucking good love fuck.”
He strips you of your shirt and bra and you’re left exposed on his bed. He stands back to stare down upon you and you feel like a spread of food sitting on a stark white table ready to be consumed and ogled. He strips himself of his leather jacket leaving his quite form fitting black tee on.
You adjust under his gaze, his mask hides any expression but his eyes say so much. Raking over your body heavily and his chest rising and falling fast as though he had run a marathon.
“Simon.”
“Yea?”
“Do something.”
“Like what?” His voice is lighter now.
“Anything Simon!”
He laughs and places a knee in between your legs, spreading them wide to accommodate his other leg and hips.
“There we go, fuck all spread out underneath me.”
His hand is placed on your breast and rolls your nipples in his fingers, it moves down never leaving your skin until he reaches your core it’s hot and wet and he collects it on his fingers and when he finally touches you it’s like you’ve reached Valhalla. 
He slips a finger inside and it faces no resistance, you form around him and he slips in another starting a smooth rhythm.
“So tight, you think you’ll be able to take me huh love?” 
He’s pumping in you and you can hear how wet he’s made you, his eyes darting from his fingers to your face, thrown into pleasure.
He brings you to your peak so quickly you’re stunned and you grip his arm as you clench around him, his name being pulled from you like a mantra.
 You regain your mind and look at him as he slips from you and his fingers make their way under his mask, his eyes on your as he licks them clean tasting you on him.
“Sweetest fucking thing I ever tasted.”
He’s unbuckling his belt next, unzips his pants and pulls himself free. He's thick as all hell and a thick vein runs down the underside. It looks heavy and you pocket an idea for next time.
You're staring for a long time and his two fingers that just did unspeakable things to you tip your chin to look at him.
“Think you can handle it?”
“I can take it, just hurry up.”
“You’re always so impatient you know that.”
He places the tip at your entrance collecting your wetness to help with the initial push.
The stretch is delicious and you grip his arm and shoulder gasping at the feeling of being full of him.
“Fuck. Fuck you’re so fucking tight, squeezing me so fucking good.”
His one arm is braced at the side of your head, forearm spattered with tattoos burning your peripheral vision. The other holds himself, leading himself into you.
He’s seated fully inside and you feel split down the middle in the best way. Burning fire deep within you and you moan for him to move, creating the friction you need.
He starts moving and you both moan, he tips his head forward to watch where he enters you repeatedly.
“So good, fuck so big Simon.”
“You take it so well, love.”
His hand that once gripped himself holds your hip and moves himself like the ocean, fluid and rhythmic.
“Always dreamt about fucking you, you spread out of my bed while I fuck my cock deep into you.”
You throw your head back and he leans back, the warm air that was between you two leaving for the cold air of the room bringing your nipples to hard peaks which his eyes gravitate to.
“Alright c’mon love.”
He takes your ankles and your legs are on his shoulders. He thrusts that much deeper and hits the right spot to make you see spots.
“You like that, fuck I can see how deep I’m going in you.” 
His hand finds your and puts it on your lower stomach and pushes down so you can feel the way he thrusts within you and how deep he reaches, you clench around him.
“Yea you like that.” He's cocky like this, dominant and all controlling. You’re putty in his hand.
“Simon I’m close don't stop please, fuck please.”
He lifts his mask up over his lips and kisses your ankle, biting your calf when he growls and that's all you need to be pushed over the edge.
“Fuck, yea cum on my cock good fucking girl.”
He fucks you through it and leans down to be face to face again. Your legs draped over his shoulders and he hits the right spot with each thrust now, he’s battering you into the mattress and his growling with each thrust muttering about how good you feel and how nicely you wrap about him.
You claw at his chest through his shirt sobbing and babbling and moaning.
“Can’t even form a proper sentence, so drunk on my cock yea? You gonna be a good girl and cum again for me?”
The graphic noises from where the two of you are joining echos through the room and you hope his neighbors aren't home.
“Yes, yes Simon please please please.”
The bed is an orchestra of noises and he shoots a hand up to the headboard, his knuckles gone white from gripping it so hard. Your abdomen is tight, so tight and your so fucking close you just want to cum at the same time as him.
“Fuck fuck fuck, so tight and wet where do you want me to cum, fucking tell me.”
“Inside me, inside me it’s safe.”
Not a beat after that leaves your mouth he’s seating himself so deep within you, you feel him throbbing deep within you and your vision goes blurry, ears gone fuzzy as you both are thrown into the abyss at the same time. 
You hear a crack from above you but you pay no mind as your neck deep in pure white hot bliss.
“Fuckin hell love, really. Fuck.” He's panting, you’re panting.
You stroke his chest lovingly as he kisses your ankle as he slowly lowers your legs from his shoulders. He lowers his mask once more.
You glace up to where his hand still grips the headboard and a deep crack is ingrained in the wood.
You laugh.
“Jesus Simon, you fucked me so hard you broke your bed.” 
He removes his hand observing the wood and shrugging.
“Well worth it I’d say, I’ll invest in a sturdier one.”
“Are you saying you’ll invite me to your place more often?”
“Your place works too.”
You both banter as you both clean up, you shower and he washes the sheets and hangs around the kitchen, letting you some time to refresh.
You come out of the bathroom smelling like him, drowned in one of his shirts and he's leaned up against his kitchen island gazing blindly at the random rugby channel he turned on.
He slides you a beer and you take it gratefully, bumping your glasses together.
“I mean it Y/N, I’m not the kind of man you might be thinking.”
“No Simon, you’re exactly the man I’m looking for, you’re stuck with me now.”
There's a beat of silence before Simon speaks up again.
“I should probably thank Johnny for tonight right?”
“Yea, he pretty much told me to quit my bitching and confront you.”
He sips his beer, 
“Well, for once I can say thank fuck for Soap and his matchmaking skills.”
You laugh and stare at him in adoration, this is the start of something wonderful.
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Tag list: @theredviolets
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