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#chew like you have a secret
thebrainrotsreal · 30 days
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EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK!!! I want to be coherent about this season but please picture me foaming at the mouth and running on the walls. S2 being what if Mark's just like his Dad? Insanity. I love this show. Anyways, AU where an Evil!Mark tries to make Our!Mark worse, and Our!Mark tries to make the other better. Something something confronting your idea of the worst version of oneself. Plus, tweaked black and yellow costume because I saw it and immediately went murder hornet lookin' ass and knew I had to draw it. Evil ass Mark. Horrible. I think he should be dragged kicking and screaming into redemption.
#mark and the fact he is fighting for this fucking life to avoid the Many Bad Endings???? im pacing. getting out the red string.#when the season is about who you are and what you could become. when trying to be good is an active choice and a struggle.#RAHHHHHHHHHHH#chewing on the bars of my enclosure...when every mark is evil OUR mark is the outlier. the exception. the OTHER. RAHHHH#dog poetry being mark poetry because how often can you kick a dog before it starts snarling before you raise your hand?#how often can you beat it before it rips into you without mercy? when it bites not at your hand but at your neck?#when does violence for survival and violence for vengeance start and end? when your opponent is down and you keep drawing blood?#circling and pacing and losing my mind over this btw if you care#anyways self vs self gets me going crazy. did you know i loved the end of atsv? because it shows.#i think o!mark would lose his fucking mind at what evil wasp looking mark has done + this mf wasp would LOATHE mark's kindness#they both see the other as the WORST version of themselves and they can't stand it. They can't shatter the mirror but they think they can--#--change the reflection.#evil mark seeing mark and seeing what he USED to be#mark seeing what he COULD be#CAN U SEE THE VISION??????#digital art#invincible rotating in my mind#invincible fanart#fanart#mark my beloved#mark grayson fanart#mark grayson#invincible s2#invincible show#mark like hello this is my secret twin and he is NOTHING like me hahahaha anyways wanna debate about having mORALS and LIFE#mark grayson vs the urge not to accept every responsibility as his own#he's batman coded that way#ok im done yapping#if this happened in the comics in any way shape or form dont tell me JACK SHIT or i will PUMMEL YOU with my SHOES
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Alhaitham and Kaveh - not 'friends' but 'roommates'
(This is a reworked excerpt taken from my Haikaveh essay! If you're interested you can check it out here or as a pdf <3)
Due to Chinese game restrictions, explicit mentions of homosexuality or overt queer references have resulted in less implicit ways of conveying queer relationships or characters. Therefore, same-sex characters in romantic relationships are assigned the platonic status of “best friend” or “friends”.
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As such, these restrictions can be used as guidelines in establishing queercoding within Genshin Impact. It is of note, however, that this rule does not mean that all characters who are canonically “friends” are in a romantic same-sex relationship. Differentiating between same-sex couples and platonic friends (who have all been assigned the label ‘friends’) can be done by identifying particular care undertaken to ‘style’ characters. This is done so by queercoding, as in, using taboos linked to queerness; references which point to romantic connotation; or omitting certain details which casts obscurity on the nature of their ‘friendship’.
Alhaitham and Kaveh’s relationship has been styled in this way, as although various titles have been given to their relationship status, there has been no definitive term supplied overall. Alhaitham tells the Traveller that the two are “roommates”, with Kaveh confirming this, although stating that they “used to be friend(s), but not anymore”.
Within Kaveh’s Character Stories, their history as “best friends” is a painful one of separation, which can be seen as akin to a break-up, and despite their lack of status as ‘friends’, the two share an intimate knowledge of the other that no other character is privy too.
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Condensing their relationship down to ‘roommates’ is an oversimplification that the narrative challenges the player to question.
This is achieved through their rapport with each other, seen within Alhaitham purposefully goading Kaveh, something which he cannot be seen to do persistently with any other character, as well as Kaveh’s unique reactions to Alhaitham, which present a side to him unlike which can be observed in his interactions with others. Additionally, the two mention the other without them present, as Alhaitham mentions Kaveh unprompted twice within the Archon Quest and once within his Story Quest, and Kaveh is prone to discussing Alhaitham with those who are aware of them living together, as Collei observes: “Seems like you always include him in the conversation, even when he isn’t here…”
When the two confirm themselves to be roommates, this is immediately followed by Paimon asking Kaveh if they are friends, to which Kaveh does not give a definitive answer too. When Paimon asks Alhaitham the same question in the Archon Quest, Alhaitham evades the question, and turns it back on Paimon, who notes that “[she] doesn’t know. That’s why [she’s] asking,” to which Alhaitham then describes Kaveh as his roommate. Although, this still is an evasion of Paimon’s initial question, Alhaitham neither denies nor confirms their friendship status. The status of their relationship is constantly called into question, for the characters they interact with, and for the player.
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This casts an ambiguity over their relationship which aligns with Chinese gaming regulations in regard to same-sex couples, which in turn, points to a certain ‘styling’ of relationship which differs from general platonic friendships within the game. Where both platonic friendships and same-sex relationships can only be openly dubbed as ‘friendship’, signifiers must be present in order to differentiate these platonic friendships from the non-platonic.
Obscurity of relationship status can be used to do so – where characters are not explicitly “friends”, but are evidently tied to each other in some way, more than their assigned platonic status. Here, Kaveh and Alhaitham are irrevocably connected beyond their “roommate” status, and although they are not currently described as “friends”, they used to be, “best friends” according to Kaveh’s Character Stories, which creates a gap for interpretation.
The player is encouraged to interpret the reason for the two’s parting of ways, along with the reason for their current rapport. Although Kaveh asserts that there is a mutual “disdain” between the two, Kaveh observably talks about Alhaitham enough for Tighnari to assert: “No dinner with Kaveh is complete without a few words about Alhaitham." Rather than out of disdain, it can be surmised that Kaveh talks about Alhaitham due to the fact that he cares, as he states that the reason he has so many troubles regarding his work is because he cares so much about it.
When paralleled with his troubles with Alhaitham, being that Alhaitham finds a way to “infuriate” him every time they talk, it can be inferred that Kaveh’s approach to dealing with his work is the same as to how he deals with Alhaitham.
If Kaveh’s assertation that the “disdain” between the two of them was true, then there is no basis for him to talk about Alhaitham as much as he does. This is due to his attitude in caring about something results in him verbally expounding the problem, the same behaviour he exhibits when dealing with Alhaitham. By his own reasoning, if Kaveh did not care about Alhaitham, he would not be so “infuriate[d]” by his words.
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In turn, the player can see Alhaitham’s care of Kaveh manifest in his concern for Kaveh’s wellbeing within A Parade of Providence. In this sense, the rapport the two have currently which the narrative prompts the player to question can be explained. The two hold a mutual concern and care for the other, but due to elements in their past, they cannot address this, and thus it goes unspoken. The same can be said about the explicit status of their relationship, as no canon label applied to the two can truly explain their relationship, with ‘roommates’ being a clear oversimplification of their bond, and always followed up with the question of their friendship.
Alhaitham and Kaveh’s status as ‘friends’ is disrupted, not only due to the canon ending of their friendship in the past, but also in the current narrative of the game due to this refused label. Alhaitham and Kaveh do not adhere to the status of ‘friends’, either evading it (Alhaitham) or outright denying it (Kaveh), however, their bond remains central to each of their respective narratives, so much so that their differing viewpoints are integral to the other.
Alhaitham and Kaveh have been designed so that they are integral to each other, and the obscurity of their relationship acts as a signifier that their bond is not of a typical platonic friendship.
In Chinese gaming restrictions regulating platonic bonds and romantic bonds between same-sex characters as strictly ‘friendship’, Genshin Impact can be seen to subvert this in order to queercode. By creating an obscure bond between a same-sex relationship, a bond which the game constantly calls into question, a silence has been generated as to what the status of the relationship really is. The depth to Alhaitham and Kaveh’s relationship and the unspoken nature of it alludes to the queer taboo, in that its inability to be definitively labelled generates an otherness than that of an easily understood platonic bond.
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looking very closely at the website neighborhood and here's some little things i noticed (plus some overthinking & flower symbolism):
~ the only butterflies on the "map" are the ones outside of Frank's house, and the single one outside of Eddie's.
~~ i think the flowers outside of Eddie's are either hyacinths or lavender. given that the flowers are different colors, they're probably hyacinths. which is a Fascinating choice to me, because hyacinths can symbolize regret, devotion (especially beyond death), love, forgiveness, and jealousy - depending on the flower color. Eddie has light blue, dark blue, and purple. The butterfly is landing on the purple one (sorrow, mourning, forgiveness, regret, devoted love).
~~ its also Fascinating because the myth behinds hyacinths is about the greek god Apollo and his (male) human lover, Hyacinthus. they were playing discus (metal frisbee). Apollo threw the discus too hard, and it bounced back and hit Hyacinthus, killing him. devastated, Apollo grew the hyacinth flower from Hyacinthus' spilled blood. SO THE FACT THAT EDDIE, GAY PUPPET EDDIE, HAS HYACINTH FLOWERS OUTSIDE THE POST OFFICE IS UM. INCH RESTING!
~~ (also also in the myth, Apollo wanted to rescind his immortality to join Hyacinthus in his death. and in an alternate version of the myth, Hyacinthus was technically murdered, because Zephyrus was jealous that Apollo preferred a mortal over him & purposefully blew the discus off course to strike Hyacinthus. things to think about. yes, in this whole myth metaphor im viewing Eddie as Hyacinthus and Frank as Apollo. do with this what you will)
~ All of the trees in the neighborhood are in the same general style, except for the tree outside of Sally's home, which is a pine tree. i wonder why!
~ the only buildings with second floors are Barnaby's, Frank's, Sally's, and Poppy's homes. rip the "wally falls down the stairs" memes
~ there's a teeny tiny Home in the post office display window
~ Julie's house has quite a lot of heart symbolism. like, a weird amount. an amount to the point where i now have an entire theory around what her role and arc might be. i Will talk about it with minimal prompting.
~ one of the swingset balloons has a happy face balloon with its eyes closed, which stands out to me (and fuels my julie theory)
~ the only neighbors who don't have flowers outside of their buildings are Sally, Julie (disregarding decoration), and Howdy.
~ Poppy has daffodils, which symbolize rebirth, new beginnings, resilience, and hope. however, they have a negative side of selfishness.
~ Barnaby has red, yellow, and blue tulips. red means undying love, admiration, and truth. yellow means "there's sunshine in your smile", joy, happiness, friendship - But it can also mean unrequited love or jealousy. Blue means individuality, trust, and good luck
~~ note that there's a dead/trampled white tulip. white tulips symbolize sorrow, "my condolences", apology, honor, purity, faith.
~ Frank has sunflowers, daisies, and some others, but those i think are more generic, unspecific flowers for added decoration. i couldn't find a "red flower on vine" that fits the general look of the ones on his house. now, sunflowers symbolize adoration, loyalty, longevity, happiness (also, might i add that these flowers are from another greek myth about apollo, this one where Apollo turns a jealous nymph into a sunflower for snitching on his mortal lover, which got her (the lover) killed. inch resting indeed.)
~~ also blue daisies, which i am assuming are the blue flowers outside his house, symbolize freedom, trust, loyalty, confidence, and honesty. lots of positivity surrounding Frank's house!
~ Wally has daisies. these symbolize innocence, purity, new beginnings, hope, and affection. it can also symbolize the ability to keep a secret. a fun fact i found interesting is the word daisy comes from an old english word meaning "day's eye."
~~ do i believe these flower choices were purposeful? maybe. probably. it does seem strange that there are specific, distinct flowers drawn in equally specific parts of the "map", while a couple of generic "cartoon" style flowers are sprinkled throughout
~ three green apples are growing on the tree next to Howdy's Place
~ it stands out to me that the bodega window above the fruit stands is completely blacked out. no window shine or nothing
~ Sally's "yard" is weirdly barren. everyone else's buildings (excluding Home) has several things decorating the surrounding area. all she has is a spotlight and a tree.
~ Barnaby's house having paint all over it (and a paintbrush & can next to it) is just cute to me. it makes me think that he wanted to paint like his lil' buddy Wally and just went ham with it. or it was a team effort between them<3
~ it took me a while to notice the tiny "Eddie's" painted above Post Office. it gives the vibe (to me) of him tacking on the "Eddie's" to make the office feel more like his. maybe he saw the sign "Howdy's Place" and decided to paint his name on his building to make himself feel more established and at home
~ there's something on / part of Frank's roof. i don't know what it is. if anyone has an idea please tell me its driving me insane. at first i thought it was a chimney but theres two? making an additional symmetrical structure? idk!!
~ there are only three buildings with straight up rainbows. Eddie's post office (hanging from the roof and in the window), Sally's house (the entire front), and Frank's house (butterfly on the door wreath. i almost didn't catch it, it's a sneaky one!)
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secret--history · 3 months
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I know that 'The Secret History is a satire' is an extremly prevalent take, and I think it came about as a response to the idea that tsh "romanticises" things like classist ideas/substance abuse/murder, but like. It can be unsupportive or critical of the characters without being a satire. Satire is not the word you're looking for here
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glowstone23b · 8 months
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Does flint got any secret talents or anything like that? What's his personality like? And how tall is he/big (just saying but how I see it piglins can be 9 - 10 feet tall, fyi Ren is 8 feet tall and so is Francis, not bragging I think🤨)
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Not my drawing but looking at you like this^^
Secret talents 🤔 he likes to carve things on his free time, like beads or little gold trinkets for people. He knows how to brew a couple of potions, but he’s still learning on that front. He also does does his best with patching people up/stitching wounds etc. and similarly probably patches clothes and whatnot for his kids.
He’s nice! He tries his best in general :) kind of gruff/formal in his way of speaking, but he’s kind of paternal to everyone he meets. Kind, but definitely stern if you get yourself hurt. A little protective as well, so it’s likely his biggest fault (like… he’d get killed trying to protect people, most likely) He’s got a bit of RBF so he looks more intimidating than he actually is, given the scar and probably a limp later on and all.
Flint’s roughly 6’5” or so— I initially had him pegged at around 7’, but I wanted to be around shoulder height if my player was standing next to him (and I’m 5’3”, so somewhere in that range seems to work). I’d love to sit on a piglin’s shoulders cause I could reach anything! King of the world, haha. He’s kinda built more like a power lifter than anything, also? A little chubby but in a muscle kinda way if that makes any sense? I have a couple references of him if you need cause I can’t remember if I’ve posted em.
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thottybrucewayne · 6 months
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The backlash against the Vicky Secret runway show is so interesting to me. Like...people was actually bitching about that runway being "too diverse" and for what? Even if they go back to hiring stick-thin, young, able-bodied models only and force them to go on restrictive diets that have them fainting backstage again, you'll still be disappointed because your issue is the degrade in quality of these garments and the unwillingness to tailor them to the body types of these models.
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brambletakato · 7 months
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vr Des experience where you get to sit at his desk and do paperwork and bonk Raymonds nose occasionally but the next world you're Descole mega jumping across the world and punching people and piloting mechas and then the next next world in a board meeting and getting points on him much bit marks you get on your pencil
I love how . Specific this is
Sure boss throw it into the idea pile it can’t hurt
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daydreamerdrew · 1 year
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Marvel Team-Up (1972) Annual #2
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simpjaes · 2 months
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BIG D*CK FOR DUMMIES (s.jy)
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The one where you find out that your boyfriend has a huge cock and you’re not entirely sure if you can take all of it. 
MDNI!!! | pls leave feedback and reblog your fave writers!
PAIRING ― jaeyun x afab reader  
WORDCOUNT ― 2.4k
CONTENT ―  first time, established relationship, top jaeyun, painful sex
NOTE ― this was originally written for a different idol on my other blog [ncteez] but i pictured jake in that one en o’clock episode doing this and went feral so……here’s ur giant package. 
smut tags― he’s a little cocky (lmao), i guess you could say size kink but it’s more like huge cock / tiny pussy size kink, theres some crying, praising, reader gets off like almost instantly and becomes incredibly cock drunk the second he’s able to actually fuck
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Things you knew about your boyfriend before dating: he’s very protective, super smart, has good taste in music, his hands are big and warm, and he’s very down to earth.
Things you didn’t know about your boyfriend until after dating and he’s on top of you during a moody and rainy night makeout session: his cock is huge and it’s very intimidating.
One might ask, how could you have not known? Well, that’s easy. It’s a fairly new relationship and a very shy relationship at that. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, actually, because it’s not like you don’t want to be intimate with him. You definitely do, and apparently so does he. 
It’s the first time in the three weeks you’ve been dating that you’ve gotten to be completely alone with him in an intimate setting. For one, you live with your parents, and secondly, he lives with three other dudes who like to be all up in his business. It’s not exactly easy to get alone time with him. Thankfully, your parents are out on a five-day holiday somewhere in the Bahamas and you’re here on your family couch with Jaeyun’s hands cradling your neck as you kiss him. 
It got heated very fast, presumably because the two of you haven’t really had the privacy to do more than a standing makeout session without someone listening in, or worse, walking in. It almost makes the air feel electric now, kind of like a breath of fresh air except the fresh air tastes like the fruity chewing gum he had in his mouth when he originally came over.
Here’s the thing though, and man, it’s a thing. Looking at Jaeyun you’d think he’s average at best and you’re not really the type to go around guessing dick sizes.  So, naturally, when he slots a leg between yours as he got on top of you and you fucking felt it against your leg, you were a little more shocked than anticipated. Maybe he let out a little snide chuckle at your reaction too, you wouldn’t know, you were kind of busy wondering when he was going to let you in on the secret. 
Now, here you are deep in thought of how the hell that thing is going to fit anywhere while simultaneously one hundred percent willing to make it fit because god, does he know how to makeout and feel someone up. 
The more he kisses you, the more his hands roam, the more you experience intimate touches with him, the more you feel like your skin is on fire and replacing that intimidation with extreme arousal and lust. All the way until the point that the presumed makeout playlist starts over and he finally pushes a bit further with you.
“Is this okay?” He asks, now slotting himself entirely between your legs and essentially pressing his length directly against the pool that is threatening to seep through your fucking denim shorts. 
You give him a half nod, trying to pretend that he’s definitely a normal man with a normal cock. He smiles though, knowing full well that this isn’t what you were expecting. No one ever expects it from him. 
“You seem occupied,” he comments, pressing himself against you a little more and leaning down on his arms to nip at your lips. “or shocked, maybe?”
You try to kiss him to shut him up, not wanting to expose yourself for being entirely inexperienced with a size like his. 
“Hm?” He encourages you, pulling back again and looking directly into your eyes with a confident smirk. 
“Well,” you shift your eyes away and sigh out, “you’re kind of huge…” 
He takes that compliment and runs with it. It’s not like the two of you have to finally have sex or anything, but you both knew what was happening and you both definitely knew what the other wanted. At least ten minutes ago that was the situation.
“Is it too much?” He asks, this time a bit more concerned that his own biology could ruin this for you. 
“Probably? no, maybe?” 
Jaeyun pulls away from you, moving himself to sit back against the couch and give you your space. Considering probably and maybe isn’t a yes, he feels no need to push or pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do. There have been times where he’s hurt another person while being intimate, though not intentionally, he’s not exactly willing to do that to you unless you’re like, you know, jumping his bones for it. 
“Still, i’d like to try–” You start, looking at him as you sit up and feel your entire body tingle at the cold air that replaces his warmth. “Maybe if we take it slow– like, really slow?”
He looks at you with shining eyes. He asked you to be his girlfriend because he genuinely likes you. He likes your voice, he likes the way you smell, likes when you talk about your favorite songs and favorite movies. He was definitely smitten from the moment he saw you trip on your own two feet down the front porch of a house party months ago. Taking it slow with you was pretty normal, and the fact that you want him too just makes him all the more willing to take his time. 
“I’ll take care of you, ” he hums, spreading his legs a bit across the couch to give himself more space to re-adjust himself. “Just tell me if I need to slow down?” 
You nod, staring directly between his legs and rubbing your own together on instinct. If anyone’s gonna split you open, it might as well be your boyfriend.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
When he said he would take it slow with you, he really meant it. The fact that he curled three fingers into you for a solid twenty minutes and you still feel like your legs will buckle on you at any moment knowing that this is just for prep– oh damn. 
 The fact that he even used his tongue on you for the first time, making sure you were more slippery than you already were for another twenty minutes? The fucking fact that you were on the verge of orgasm when he pulled it out and presented it to you like a cock you could totally sit on without issue? 
Fuck.
Reality washes over you far too quickly when you actually make that attempt. 
You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel like you were being torn apart by him, but part of you loves the way his gentle hands hold you steady as you try to sink down. You can feel the wet heat between your legs coat his length inch by inch as you start to slide down.
He stops you only for a moment when he notices you wincing. 
“Breathe, baby, just a little more.” He encourages, getting a nod from you before guiding you down further.
You breathe, clenching around him and doing your best to stop doing that so you can relax. You can tell he’s struggling to actually take it slow by now too, only because you can feel his hands shake against you as he holds himself back from obliterating you, probably. You’d think it would be quite endearing to see, if it weren’t for the fact that your eyes are blurring from the tears threatening to fall. 
Feeling embarrassed, you wipe your eyes and focus on how he feels inside of you. The pain is still there, but as you “sit” here, that pain somehow does replace itself with a strange sensation of pleasure little by little. You’ve always wondered what it felt like to be full, and it appears that this is exactly it.
It’s overwhelming.
“Do you want to stop?” He asks after noticing your tears, a bit of panic in his voice despite the fact that you could have sworn hearing a moan come out alongside it, “Pull up, it’s okay, you can–”
You sink down further instead, now bottoming yourself out on him and releasing a broken whine of both pain and pleasure. He grunts in unison to your whine, gripping your hips even harder than he already was and squeezing his eyes shut. 
“Fuck,” he sighs out, lazily opening his eyes to look at the way you perch yourself on him so perfectly. “Such a tight fit.” 
You nod, mostly unable to hear a word he’s saying as you try to relax your body enough to get rid of that small hint of pain. The consistent clenching of your adjustments send your boyfriend spiraling a bit, unable to contain his sighs of pleasure as your tight and wet heat squeezes his cock.
“Tell me when I can move, please, tell me–” He groans out almost frantically, staring down at where you sit flush against him and wanting so badly to fuck into you.
 He’s wanted to do this to you since you started dating, now that it’s finally happening, and now that you’re quite literally jerking him off simply by adjusting to his size– you know, it’s not exactly easy to contain himself. 
You take a few more seconds to breathe before your body finally relaxes and you give him a reluctant nod. 
Instantly it’s like you’re seeing stars. He barely moves, all he does is flex his abs and press his hips up and it’s like he manages to fit another non-existent inch inside of you. 
You groan out, falling forward against his chest and gripping onto his shoulders as you feel your body adjust to even that small movement. To you, this is so fucking embarrassing, but to him? 
Hottest thing ever. Really. 
He can hear your whiny gasps against his neck when he moves and it’s driving him fucking wild, especially considering the fact that his cock is driven so deeply inside of you that he thinks you’d tell him to stop— but you don’t. 
You’re so good to him, and for what it’s worth, he wants to make sure this will be the best orgasm of your life.
Slowly, his hands fall to your ass and guide you up. You feel slight relief as a few inches leave you, and your stomach bubbles with that same sensation of both pleasure and pain when he slides you back down.
He moans out at you, almost like he’s cooing in pity at how much you’re trying to take for him. It’s incredibly sexy to hear now that your ears have stopped ringing and you’re beginning to believe that you’d never want anything smaller than him anyway.
This time, you lift on your own and sink back down just as fast, wincing again against his neck but releasing a moan that sounds more like pleasure than anything else. He sees this as a green light, gripping your ass and encouraging you to lift slightly again.
“Stay like this.” he mutters with a deep breath before kissing against your forehead and thrusting his hips up once, hard. 
The tight heat you’re offering sends him into a frenzy when paired with the wet slap of his pelvis hitting your pussy, and the sounds you’re making offer little in terms of stopping because by now, you’re both loving it. 
He thrusts into you with ease, the drag loud and slippery, the moans of pleasure you release only make him go faster, harder. Almost releasing a whimper of his own at how fucking perfect you are for taking all of it.
“Look.” he tries to let out, waiting for you to pull yourself up from his chest and look at him.
You do with ease, that broken face from before now replaced with lustful and blown out pupils. 
“Look how good you take it,” he praises with a groan, almost punctuating each word with a thrust, “knew you could take it.” 
Your broken smile that falls into a slack mouthed string of nonsense only continues to push him.  All the way until you can’t think straight at all, and you’re feeling your body tense up with such pressure that you can’t even warn him before your walls are clenching so tightly that it even hurts him. 
You grasp onto him for dear life as your orgasm washes over you, drenching his entire length as you hold your breath. Never have you gotten off while feeling so fucking full, and arguably, you don’t think you could ever feel an orgasm so intense without him being the one to split you open.
“There you go baby.” he hums, watching you breathlessly fall apart on top of him before picking up his rhythm again and chasing his own high.
By this point, you’re so well adjusted that even the searing pain of his restless thrusts feel good. Your brain is foggy but you can’t help but just fucking watch him.
This is your boyfriend and this is what it looks like when you’re making him feel good. 
“Are you close?” you start to bounce on him, meeting his rhythm and allowing him to rest his own hips. 
He nods as he looks at you, awestruck with how you’re already able to ride him as if you weren’t whining just moments before. Seeing you take him in full like this is enough to have his cock pulsing.
“Just a bit more, baby.” He closes his eyes and runs his hands up your waist. “Keep riding me, fuck.” 
And that, you do. Feeling proud of yourself for being able to actually take this literal monster, you focus on the twitch inside of you as he releases with a deep and breathy moan.
It’s entirely too sexy to ignore, and you continue to bounce even as he tries to hold you in place to subdue the sensitivity of his cock being fucking strangled by how tight you are. 
Once his body stops jerking and you feel the last twitching release inside of you, you fall forward and both of you groan from the sensitivity. 
“There are pros and cons to having a big dick, i guess.” he admits in a groan. 
Even when you laugh, there’s another wince from both of you followed by a groan.
“Pros: big dick.” he whispers, holding you still against him so you don’t move again before he can soften up and pull out. “Cons: big dick.” 
You still laugh, and it still hurts. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
me and my lame ass endings lmfaooooooooooooooooo
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chrollohearttags · 6 months
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FIRE HYDRANT • portgas d. ace
ace loves his little squirter, perhaps a bit too much.
content + themes: firefighter!ace, firefighter!reader, choking, hate fucking, heavy squirting, he’s such a mean dom in this, mentions of oral sex, daddy is used, finger sucking, slapping, pet names are used (my love, babygirl, sweetheart), calls reader slut, missionary/mating press
📝: just a lil something to help me get my steam back. If it’s bad, you never saw it.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰───────✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰────
“Okay, okayyyy…take some outtt..fuck!”
“Don’t be stupid, now move your hand before I do it for you.”
he was relentless and had been for the past couple hours or so..it seemed like he had no intention of doing so anytime soon either. Perhaps this time around..your big ass mouth had bit off far more than you could ever chew. Hence why at the moment..he was fish hooking his fingers in the sides of your jaws. Prompting you to suck on them as a means to shut you up. Feeding you a light tap to the cheek to ensure so as well.
“Rookie..how many times do I have to say it, huh? You don’t run a damn thing. It’s been what..four? Five? Hell, I’ve lost count how many times you’ve come on this dick. It’s like you can’t get enough of me, my love. I already knew that much though.”
the words tearing through you like a serrated dagger, slowly but surely cutting you up. A reminder of your weak resolve. You hated it, you hated it so fucking much that the one man you despised got you wetter than any boyfriend or partner you’d ever encountered. That this bastard knew your body far better than you did sometimes. He could do things that you’d never even imagined..taking you to heights unknown and yet, all you could do was stare at him in disgust as his cock plunged within your center repeatedly. Slamming balls deep as they smacked against your puckering asshole; drenched in your sticky mixture from drumming it out of you. It was just as he said, you had come for him for about the seventh time now. Running on fumes and pure spite to keep going. Maybe you wanted to prove him wrong that you could take whatever he threw your way, including the dick.
“Haaaah!—shit! Not right there..I’m gonna—“
“I know, babygirl. I know you are so why fight it? Squirt on daddy’s dick. Feels much better than arguing with me, doesn’t it?”
or..you loved the way he fucked you and your pride wouldn’t allow you to admit it! It would explain the large puddle formed underneath the towels on his couch and the splashes surrounding his foot; the other planted next to you so that he could truly get in it the way he wanted. And here you were..in the last position you wanted to be! Folded like a goddamn pretzel with your toes wiggling behind your head and this asshole hovering over you with that same stupid grin on his face, those deep set eyes and his necklace dangling in front of your nose. He was enjoying this. Enjoying turning his stubborn little rookie into his personal fire hydrant. The tight, juicy grip of that cunt embracing him like a warm hug..tinting his tan hued shaft with a sheet of white essence before exploding into the sweet, delicious rain as he made you squirt yet again. He’d never had pussy like it and it was for that reason alone, he put up with your bad attitude or rather, calmed it down.
“Nnggghhh!..I can’t..” your words were barely even making it above a decibel. A lot more quiet than the shouting you did at him when you first arrived. Pissed off about your inspection results earlier in the day. Granted, that was before he hissed at you to sit down, shut the fuck up and be a good slut for him..before he snatched your sundress down to reveal those plump tits and sucked on those gorgeous brown nipples that go so erect for him as he fingered you. And well before pinned your legs back and damn near sucked the flavor from your pussy! Using those nimble fingers to get you to climax..it was then that he discovered your little secret:
“Ahhh..so you’re a squirter, rookie? Well that’s good to know.”
and hadn’t stopped exploring it since. So for the duration of your stay, he’d been stretching that pussy out and using you to his heart's desire. Pulling on your hair, smacking on that fat ass as he gave you vicious backshots. Even tossing the pillow out of your way so you had zero comfort. His punishment for waking him up. Using your mouth as his personal cock sleeve, making you eat him up until you made a mess, calling him daddy after rewarding you with a warm nut to the back of your throat and after that, the fun really began. He’d kept you like this..drawing out orgasm after orgasm; streams of clear juices reaching as far up to his chest. Pulling out, tapping that mushroom tip against your slit to coax out another right after. He was having too much fun!
“You talk a lot of shit for someone who can’t even keep her eyes open. Too bad for you..”
suddenly, you’d feel the hard clutch of his digits around your throat which prompted you to gasp for air whilst clawing at his forearm. Zeroing in on your face, he’d hiss through gritted teeth and smile before slamming your head back down: “we’re not done, so wake that ass up. ‘M gonna beat that little pussy of yours so sore, you’ll be lucky if you can crawl out of here when I’m done. Gonna fuck you until you’re empty, baby..”
and something told you, that wouldn’t be anytime soon!
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
Text
(She's) Off The Track
Y/N is pregnant, not allowed to race, and she's pissed about it
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When the video went up on everybody's social media, the fans panicked. It was similar, eerily so, to Sebastian Vettel's retirement announcement.
But she couldn't be retiring, could she? She was only in her mid twenties and hungry for a win. There was no way she was retiring already.
She sat there in the video, a white wall behind her, and stared. For a full two and a half seconds she said nothing, but it felt so much longer. Anxious fans waited chewing on their nails as they waited to see what was going on.
To Y/N, the person in the video, it felt like she was doing one of those youtuber apology videos. Well, this was a severe and continuous lapse in her judgement, but it had ended in something wonderful.
"It's with regret that I sit here before you all to tell you that I will not be partaking in the rest of the Formula One season," she said and breathed out, like a massive weight had been lifted from her chest. "In my place Liam Lawson will be driving in the second seat of the AlphaTauri."
"We thank you all for your continuous support and look forward to seeing all of you when I return to the grid next year."
She never said why, never let the fans know why she was going to be absent from the track. The fans still saw her everywhere, though. In the paddock, cheering on her replacement, or in the background of her boyfriends streams.
"This is your fault," she said as she sat on the beanbag behind Lando, placing malteasers into her mouth. "If it weren't for you, I would still be racing."
Although she sat it, it wasn't serious. It wasn't his fault at all. Actually, she didn't want to blame this on anybody; it was a welcomed surprise.
It had been a good sixteen weeks since she last sat in a Formula One car. There one race that Y/N wasn't at, leaving all the fans speculating where she could be. And then there was a two week gap between the races.
The next race she attended, something was clearly different. Lando held her hand, staying close to her while Martin Brundle interviewed her. He walked her to the AlphaTauri garage, something he didn't normally do, and didn't leave until she was being safely escorted by Daniel Ricciardo.
But the most noticeable difference was the baby bump was she sporting.
SHE'S PREGNANT!! said everybody online. It was maybe the best kept secret of the paddock.
Even though the secret was out, Y/N and Lando still didn't address it. If any interviewer tried to ask about the pregnancy, Lando would walk her away or place himself between her and the interviewer, protective fiancé mode engaged.
When the last grand prix she was allowed to attend before she had to stop flying rolled around, Y/N spent more time than usual in front of the car that should have been hers. Her hand rested on her stomach as she looked at the number 40 car. It should have been number 69, her driver number.
"Next year," she said through a sigh as Liam approached. He offered her a smile, the kind that said he sympathised with her.
Towards the end of the season she had to stop attending. There were only two races left and Lando was predicted to be on the podium for all of them.
And he was on the podium. She was forced to watch it from their television at home. She celebrated with a glass of water and a nap.
Y/N went into labour at the start of winter break. It was lucky, actually, that Lando was home and able to rush her to the hospital. He held her hand through it all and, soon, their baby boy was crying in his arms.
Ten months went by. Y/N and Lando spent the entirety of the winter break as a family, caring for their son, introducing him to the family (the grid family and their actual families) and celebrating firsts with him. When they brought him home, when he first slept in his crib, his first trip in the car, first trip in the zoo, taking him around the marina.
Lando took pictures of it all. His jpg account was full of these pictures, as long as they didn't show their sons face.
His first introduction to the Formula one world came when he was just ten months old, at the Brazilian Grand Prix. Before Y/N and Lando left their hotel, it had been a big debate over whether he was going to be wearing a McLaren onesie or an AlphaTauri onesie (Lando had won and they walked him around in a bright orange onesie).
The grid loved meeting Emmet "Chuck" Norris (Daniel thought he was really funny with that one). Emmets favourite people were Danny and Max, who had worked together to teach him to respond to his name of Chuck.
He sat in his parents cars and that was when Y/N and Lando knew, he was going to be a racer.
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cherry-leclerc · 2 months
Text
wait for you ☆ cl16
genre: fluff, humor, tiny bit of smut, established relationship 
word count: 1.8k
An eager Charles tries to convince you to take part in an adorable video to show off your relationship for the first time, but it only lands you two in a clumsy mess. 
nsfw warning under the cut! 
18+…mainly just charles being a tit addict lol, oh and a bit of dry humping ahhah 
req!…quickie, but enjoy :) ps. we love a man who understandssss
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“Come on! Don’t be like that.”
It takes all of you to not roll your eyes at your needy boyfriend. He was excited to be back to racing after such a long time and this was just pure adrenaline, if you can even call it that. He had brought it up a few nights ago over dinner.
It’s been a year. Actually scratch that. A year and five months. Which is basically two if you stop and think about it.
Humming, you nod with less enthusiasm as he dangles his phone right in front of you, displaying cheesy couple videos. 
We can recreate it, people will know, and people will love you. Easy peasy.
But there was nothing easy about any of this. It had stayed a secret for so long for a reason - a perfectly reasonable reason. While you knew the good would most likely outweigh the bad, that didn’t make it less nerve wrecking.
With a heavy sigh, you roll off of his lap, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m not sure, Charles. You know how I feel about all this. Plus, don’t you like knowing it's just you and me who know about us?” You signal between the two of you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he gulps.
“I do love having you to myself…”
“So it’s settled. Not yet.”
The next time he brings it up is when you’re out on a double date with George and Carmen, seeing as they spend a good amount of time here in Monaco. Could be nice, he says, blankly taking a lick from his vanilla ice cream. Would make me happy, y’know…
“I feel like I have to ask,” the Brit mumbles curiously. “Trouble in sex-paradise?”
Choking with surprise, you hurriedly shake your head as Carmen pinches her boyfriend's thigh. He yelps, scooting closer to the Monegasque who continues to pout. Rubbing your temples, you say, “Don’t pay him any attention, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
“Amore, it would be perfect!” Angling his head to the couple, he retreats his phone, already showing off the video. “Wouldn’t it be cute to announce our relationship like that?” Before they have a chance to answer, he nods happily, as if they’ve given him the biggest blessing. “It would, I know it would.”
“Reckon it’s a bit much,” George says while Carmen winces in agreement. Charles’ green eyes flicker to where you bite back a grin, writhing to let loose.
“You guys…”
Carmen pats his hand gently over the table. “Charles, just try and put yourself in her shoes. She’s worried. We’ve all been. Being in the public eye is extremely terrifying. Maybe she’s not ready-”
“Or she’s not that into you.”
The brunette clenches his jaw. “You’re not?”
Giggling, you peck his rosy cheek as he stubbornly gives in, a smile already being drawn onto his lips. “I’m so in love.” Then you turn to the Brit, kicking him sharply underneath the table. “Asshole.”
As he winces in pain, his girlfriend rubs his arm gingerly. “Oh, she’s definitely in love, Charles. But she’s not ready. Just wait on her for a tad bit longer.”
You’re honestly shocked when he doesn’t bring up the topic the time you visit his family, or when you meet up with Pierre and Kika. It was odd, but you didn’t think much of it. 
That is until he has you perched on his lap, greedy mouth wrapped around your sore buds. Large hands come in to grip your breasts, squeezing them closer to his face as he groans. You shiver when the cool air hits your wet skin. He smiles wickedly when you start rubbing yourself against his thigh, whimpers entering the room.
“You sound so sweet…”
You grip his shoulders tighter.
“Doing so good for me, yeah?”
You nod with soft pants and tired eyes.
“Do you love me?”
More than anything.
“Then you’ll do the video with me? You will, won’t you, darling?”
“Yes, yes,” you huff, core growing tighter. “Anything and everything you want.”
You can practically feel his smirk against your chest, but are too far gone to even care.
With one last lustful lick, he scoffs. “That’s my girl.”
-
“Okay, stand still,” he instructs, hands fixing his phone against the wooden chair. There's heavy concentration that lingers adorably as he gently bites down on his bottom lip, that it almost makes you regret how much you were dreading this. Balancing yourself on your tippy toes, you giggle nervously. Green eyes look back at you before pressing a kiss against your temple. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Just stand there and look pretty.”
“Because that’s all I’m good for,” you mumble sourly as he aims a deadpan expression. You know that’s not true. Then he presses the countdown and runs out of the frame, leaving you to stand like a lost puppy, soft eyes looking for their owner. Frowning hard at the camera, you sigh. “I really don’t get it-”
All of a sudden, strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you in a hurry. You’re squealing loudly and shutting your eyes tightly. It leaves you winded as you slip into a coughing fit. Swiftly, the Monegasque places you back down and cradles your face with worried eyes. “Holy shit, are you okay?”
Pushing him away harshly, you shoot daggers at your boyfriend. “What the hell was that? You nearly killed me!”
The brunette winces. “I didn’t mean to do it that fast…” His shoulder droops with panic when you narrow your sharp eyes, chest heaving with slight anger. “Or that hard.”
You step away, frantic arms shooing him. “I’m out, this is stupid.”
“No, wait!” Following after you, he reaches to grab your hand. “I’ll be gentle this time. Let’s just try again.”
A skeptical scowl paints your face before nodding along. Dimples shine back towards you as he happily leads you back to the large kitchen. Slow, Charles. I mean it. Beaming brightly at the screen, you playfully search for him before you catch a glimpse of your clumsy manchild through your peripheral vision. You foolishly flinch as he makes his way and comes to an unexpected halt. He groans and you wail.
“Why did you stop?”
“Why do you look scared?”
Letting out a dry laugh, you bring your hands to your hips, right leg extending out like a strict teacher. “I was doing my part.”
“If looking scared was what you were going for, then mission accomplished.” He rubs his lids. “Try to pretend that you like me. The whole point is to show people that we’re in love.”
“Am I supposed to act like I like you or all lovey dovey? Which one is it?” you bicker back, hair whipping your cheekbones. He rolls his eyes. Stop acting like that, it’s not cute. “It’s not cute,” you mock as you return to your original spot. “Do not fuck this up, Charles.”
“Fine,” he grunts. Repeating the same actions, this time around he manages to trip over his own two feet, landing with a loud splat. The sound of his skin hitting the marble floor has you rolling with laughter and gasping for air. This is great, you wheeze, eyes crinkled. “It’s because I mopped earlier, remember? One last time.”
The Monegaque readies himself like a quarterback, dark eyes drawn to you like a hungry lion. You almost want to laugh with how serious he’s taking all of this, but somehow hold back. Once again, he makes his way on cue, arms wrapping around you securely and taking you down with him this time. 
Landing with a low umph, he holds onto you tightly, making sure to land on top of him safely as you yelp. Twisting up quickly, you bang a soft fist against his chest. “Dickhead! What are you doi- I’m not a fucking potatoe sack!”
The brunette manages to sit up, immediately going in to rub his head. Black spots blaze over his eyes. “I think I’m blind.” He pants, loopy eyes making a weak attempt to take in your delicate figure. “You still look like an angel, though.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.” You pause. “A-are you okay, baby?”
Brown locks bounce up lightly. With a heavy sigh, you help him up, leading him carefully towards the couch. Sore shoulders relax against the pillows. You bite down nervously on your thumb as you debate calling for help, given as how he hasn’t spoken much after the catastrophe. He hums. “I’m fine. Sit.”
“Oh, good,” you say, releasing out a breath of relief. As soon as he feels a dip next to him, he peeks one eye open, finding you with a pale face. A strong sense of protection takes over as he pushes your hair back, making sure to analyze everything about you. Why are you colorless? Did it hurt? Does anything hurt? We can go to the hospital to get you checked out. Actually, let's go.
He’s already grabbing your hand, flinging you to stand up when you let go. “I said I was okay. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You took it the hardest, I swear I heard the sound of a coconut crack.” A teasing smile slips onto your berry lips, closed fist gently knocking against his head. “Only making sure.”
“Ha-ha.” Bringing you towards his chest, you nuzzle your face sweetly. “I tripped again-”
“I know,” you giggle, though it comes out slightly muffled, and slightly demonic. But it makes him grin eagerly, hand flying to smack your ass. You jump, feeling his chest vibrate as he chuckles. “This was an utter mess. How about we try again tomorrow?”
“How about we don’t?”
You pull away, hands pressing against his tall frame. “But I thought you wanted to do this…”
“I do, but you’re not ready.” A boyish wince strikes his face. “And I’m not going to force you.” You can’t help the swing your heart goes through with his sweet gesture. He continues. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this in the first place; I knew you weren’t ready and I still tried. I’m sorry.”
Guilt eats you up with his words. “I swear I want to do this for you. I can try again!” Slithering out of his tight grip, you cluelessly look for his phone. He chuckles at your cute pout of determination. 
“But you’re not ready,” he states for the second time. “I’ll wait for you to be.”
The internet was a scary place - one you dread very much - but it’s true. You would have done this with him, even if you weren’t open to it. But the fact that he understood regardless…
Sheepishly marching your way over to the green eyed boy, you shoot a shy wink. “When I am…I’ll let you know?”
He grins, arms wide open as you find a home between them. “Of course.”
taglist: @myownwritings
*anyone is welcome to lmk and i'll add you along :)
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lovebugism · 4 months
Note
istg that “just because you’re beautiful and a good kisser does not mean i forgive you.” “you think i’m beautiful?” is sooooo eddie coded.
i'm picturing a sorta enemies to lovers with eddie pulling yet another prank on reader (we all know this boy has the emotional maturity of a five year old when it comes to making a move on the girl he likes) but he really does hurt her feelings this time so he tries to make it up to her and they end up kissing.
from what you've written before i think you could put a great spin on this sorta scenario, if you feel like it <3
hope you like it! :D — you're eddie munson's biggest enemy. and, yes, you're also his soulmate. (enemies to lovers, secret relationship, 0.9k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
You storm into the bustling lunch room, having traded your pretty corseted blouse for a piece of oversized Corroded Coffin merch — definitely not by choice. “Do you have a death wish?” you ask when you reach the Hellfire table at the very back of the cafeteria, zeroed in on its leader at the head of it.
Eddie turns slowly, blinking up at you with innocent button eyes. His chews through the hamburger wadded in his cheek. “Potentially,” he answers, muffled before he swallows it down.
You huff, too easily frustrated. It isn’t any wonder why he likes to mess with you so much. “Where are my clothes?” 
“The ones you left on my bedroom floor last night or…?”
“No, you idiot— The clothes you stole from the girl’s locker room. Which makes you a total perv, by the way.”
“Oh, that sexy little number?” he croons, turning in his seat to face you more. “It’s in my locker, actually.”
“Well, get it out,” you say with gritted teeth.
He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips to the side. “Hm… I don’t think I will.”
Your jaw tightens. “Why?”
“‘Cause it’s a little revealing, don’t you think?”
“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point, Munson.”
He smacks his lips against his teeth, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. He wags a sarcastic, ringed finger at you. “See— Those aren’t the values a nice girl like you should have—”
“God, you’re infuriating,” you groan and stomp off again.
Eddie smiles to himself while he watches you go, cheek tilted lazily to his shoulder. The only thing he likes better than seeing you come (in more ways than one) is watching you leave.
He sighs a deep, contented sigh and turns back to the rest of the table. They’re all wide-eyed and silent, still musing on the sudden interaction with the disbelief that it had happened at all.
Eddie only grins, wider this time. “Ah… She’s obsessed with me.”
—————
By the end of the school day, your blouse hasn’t yet been returned to you. You’re still stuck in the stupid shirt Eddie had left for you — all black, too big, and obviously his. You know it belongs to him because you’ve worn it thousands of times while sleeping over at his place. It smells just like him, like weed and cologne and boy.
You’re heading towards the exits when a hand pulls you into an abandoned classroom around the corner — pale, ringed, and lanky. As if you needed any further confirmation it was Eddie Munson. 
You stumble in, and he locks it behind you.
“Don’t you think you’ve bothered me enough today?” you squint.
“Oh, so you don’t want your shirt back?” he teases, waving the thing in his free hand. You reach for it, and he snatches it back, smirking softly down at you. “Uh-uh. What’s the magic word, sweetheart.”
“Give me my shirt back,” you answer in a monotone.
“Not even close, but I’ll give you a kiss for it.”
You sigh like it’s a chore for you and lean in to kiss his cheek. Your lips just barely graze his stubbly jaw. Eddie shrugs. “You missed, but I’m feeling nice today, so—”
You snatch it from him when he hands it to you. “You can’t keep doing this, Eds. We’re supposed to hate each other.”
“Well, one, we do hate each other. Obviously,” he scoffs and leans back on one of the desks. It shifts under his weight, and he stumbles. He decides to sit on it completely while you laugh. “And two, this was, like, a genius prank on my end. I made my arch nemesis walk around in my shirt all day— you’re not giving me enough credit for this, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, except I got called the freak’s girlfriend all day.”
“By who?”
“Who do you think?”
He ponders for a moment. “…Jason?”
You nod, all slow because it’s obvious. The only one who hates Eddie more than you do is Jason Carver. You wonder if he’s secretly in love with the town freak, too.
“Well, it’s about time he knows who you belong to,” the boy says with a laugh. “He’s only been trying to get with you for two years.”
You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t belong to anyone— I’m not a toy.”
“Well, yeah— only when you wanna be,” Eddie teases, reaching out for you. His ringed fingers curl around your wrist to pull you closer. You sigh in annoyance but walk between his thighs anyway.
“You’re so annoying.”
Eddie grins, pink and boyish. “But you like me anyway. So who’s the real loser?”
“I thought we hated each other,” you quip with narrowed eyes.
���I was kidding— Just kiss me.”
You giggle quietly and lean in to peck his lips. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint, mouth soft like flower petals. You get lost in him too easily. One peck becomes two — then three — then a longer, languid, and more drawn-out thing.
You feel Eddie smile against you, knowing he’s won now that you’re melting for him. You pull away with a smack when you regain your senses.
“Just because you’re pretty and a good kisser, doesn’t mean I forgive you, by the way. You know that, right?”
“Mhmm,” he hums mindlessly, already leaning forward to kiss you again.
You pull softly back. “And that I’m totally getting you back for this?”
“Yep.” He pecks your lips once, with a lot more self-restraint than you’d had. “So… When are you coming over to get the clothes you left at my place last night?”
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marvelfilth · 29 days
Text
Family dinner
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova, platonic!Kate Bishop x f!reader
Warnings: a very poor attempt at humour
Summary: your best friend Kate needs backup after a mishap with Yelena's family
Masterlist
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“I need you here yesterday!”
“What?” You whisper-shout, looking around the office to make sure no one noticed you ducking away to take a call from your best friend.
“Please, I'm desperate! I can't do this alone, they're like sharks and I just spilled blood!”
“Kate, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Yelena's family! They're scary as shit on a good day, but now we messed up real bad, and I think they're gonna decapitate me,” she whines.
“Okay, let's backtrack. What did you do?”
“...”
“Kate?”
There's shuffling on the other side, a deep sigh and then, “Melina found the handcuffs. With the fur. They were still attached to the bed.”
You snort, loud enough to attract annoyed looks from your coworkers. “Happens to the best of-”
“And the whip. It was on the bed too.”
You chortle, this time not caring about your surroundings, and swiftly move further down the hall. “She knows Yelena's a big girl, she can ha-”
“Natasha was there too!”
You stop in your tracks. Now that's interesting.
“She'll never let you forget it,” you say with all the confidence you have, even though you've never met the woman before. You know just enough from what Kate and Yelena told you to be sure of that.
“She's not letting me forget it now! She got all sneaky and secretive, whispering with Melina and looking at me, and now I'm on my way to a family dinner. A family dinner with my girlfriend's family, while said girlfriend got called away on some emergency mission,” she huffs angrily.
“There's no emergency mission, is there?”
“There better be!”
You chuckle, shaking your head. It's never a boring day with Kate Bishop.
“So,” she starts, aiming for a nonchalant tone, “I'm downstairs.”
“What?”
“Yep. Waiting for you at the front. Better hurry, parking is expensive as hell.”
“Kate.”
“I'm your bestie. And my girlfriend's mom found the handcuffs. I need you.”
You check the time, noting that the workday is nowhere near it's end. With a sigh, you head for the elevator, not even bothering to come back for your bag.
“I love you.”
“I haven't agreed to-”
“I know what that sigh means!”
You groan. “Yeah, yeah. You owe me.”
×××
Turns out, Yelena's family is even scarier then you imagined.
“So, Y/n,” Melina starts, looking at you like you're one of her lab rats, “Do you usually leave your… sexual… stuff after you're done?”
You turn red, choking on the wine. Kate sends you a look of pity.
Natasha smirks.
“I don't… I'm not sure- Um. Well, no.”
Melina hums, nodding to herself. “Good.”
She digs into her food, and you exhale in relief, feeling like the worst part is over.
“So where do you keep your stuff, Y/n?” Natasha asks over the rim of her glass, her eyes full of mischief.
Kate slides lower in her seat, boring holes into her fork.
Melina perks up, once again regarding you like one of her subjects. “I would also like to know. To pass the advice to my daughter and her girlfriend.”
You gulp.
“Well?” Natasha prompts.
You shudder from the intensity of the look she's giving you.
“Can we move on?” Kate whispers, looking around nervously.
“Yes, of course,” Melina nods, her eyes lighting up like she was waiting for a subject change.
Natasha sends Kate an amused smile, and you relax slightly. Now the worst part is over, you're sure.
“So, Y/n-”
Fuck.
“-are you single?”
You nod, shoving a forkful of some meat salad - which mostly consists of mayonnaise - to avoid talking.
“And you're gay, correct?” Melina asks, peering into your very soul.
You nod again, chewing fast.
“Why are you gay?”
You choke on a piece of potato, wheezing and reaching for a glass of water. Kate almost falls of her chair in haste to smack you on the back. Natasha just looks at her mother, unimpressed. “Really?”
“What?” Melina shrugs. “I'm a scientist, I'm conducting research.”
The redhead groans, rubbing her eyes. “Of course.”
You feel a little better now that Natasha is annoyed.
Melina still looks at you, expecting an answer.
You sigh, “Are you gay?”
She blinks, looking like an owl. Natasha chokes on a laugh, sending you a look of appreciation. Kate mutters something about bathroom and darts out of the room, hopefully to call Yelena and fix all this mess.
“Well,” Melina starts, deep in thought. “I suppose I've never given it much of a thought.”
You nod, feeling accomplished in swaying attention from yourself.
“Natasha.” The older woman turns abruptly. “You are gay.”
The redhead groans, sliding down in her seat. “Mother, please.”
“She's gay, and you're gay. You're both miserably single.”
“Huh?” You frown, affronted.
“Fuck my life,” Natasha mumbles into the table, her face pressed tight against it in a feeble effort of disappearing.
“Yelena's on her way!” Kate walks back into the room, triumphant.
“Finally,” you sigh, pointedly looking at the ceiling to avoid Melina's penetrative gaze. “Where's she, by the way?”
“Hiding, probably,” Natasha snorts, shaking her head. “Escaped the scene of crime and left her girlfriend to pick up the mess.” She raises her glass in Kate's general direction, “You're doing good so far, Bishop. Even brought reinforcement - good thinking.”
“Yes-yes,” Melina nods, her eyes darting between you three. “Yelena's a bit of a coward in that regard, but we have an important matter to discuss.”
Natasha glares at her mother. “No, we don-”
“Natasha can cook. Well, she can microwave.”
“What did I miss?” Kate frowns, settling back into her seat. “Actually, no. I don't want to know.”
“As I was saying,” Melina clears her throat, paying no mind to the murderous look Natasha sends her. You'd feel gleeful at that - Natasha's plan came back to bite her in the ass - if you weren't the other victim in this scenario. “Natasha can cook. She's excellent with knives. She's an excellent shot. She can dismantle a bomb in a matter of seconds. She's a… a catch.”
You smile at the miserable expression on Natasha's face, her cheeks dusted with pink.
“Oh…” Kate whispers, looking at you from the corner of her eye. “Well, actually, Y/n is-” she yelps loudly when your heel connects with her toes, and turns bright red at the shooting pain. “-a bitch. She's a bitch.”
The look in Melina's eyes turns gleeful. “That was excellent.”
Fucking hell, no matter what you do, your grave turns deeper and deeper.
Natasha snorts, chugging her wine like it's water. Melina's mouth opens again, and you say a stupid thing to save yourself from further embarrassment.
“Can we go back to Kate's handcuffs, please,” you mutter with a sigh.
The look of betrayal your friend sends you doesn't work the way she intended, because you don't feel guilty at all.
Melina's mouth snaps shut, her eyes widening. The sight alone tells you you said the wrong thing.
“Have you and Kate ever-”
“No!” you both shout, before the older woman can finish the question.
“Sounds defensive,” Natasha chuckles, reaching for the bottle of vodka.
“Wha- What?” You hiss, glaring at the spy.
“She's- Y/n’s not even my type! And I'm not her type either!” Kate splutters.
“Mhm,” Natasha hums, “that I can see.”
You gape, not sure if you're supposed to be offended. “What?”
Natasha smirks, planting her chin on her fist. “You need a firm hand. Your best friend is anything, but firm.”
Her eyes trail down your body, pupils darkening ever so slightly. Your cheeks burn and, suddenly, it's hard to breathe. You clear your throat and gulp down the last of your wine, carefully avoiding her gaze.
“O-okay. That's- okay, yep,” Kate mutters to herself. “Fuck my life.”
“Am I wrong?” Natasha husks, reaching across the table to play with the golden bracelet on your wrist.
Really, right in front of her mother?
The front door opens with a loud bang, and you jump up, relieved to see Yelena. The feeling doesn't last long, because a second later you notice the bleeding wound on her torso.
“So that was an actual mission,” you mumble, missing the way Natasha snorts in your haste to get Yelena to the couch.
Kate looks pale, but swiftly starts helping Yelena undress. Melina's ready with the first aid kid by the time they finally tear off the shirt.
“So?” Natasha whispers into your ear, sending goosebumps down your skin. “Am I wrong?”
Apparently, not even her bleeding sister can stop her.
“No,” you reply, “you're not wrong.”
She hums, satisfied. “I am miserably single, you know?"
You let out a loud laugh, not even bothering to quiet down when Yelena sends you a murderous look.
“I am miserably single, too.”
She smiles, nodding to herself.
“Want to fix that?” She asks after a bit, her eyes glinting in the soft evening light.
“They'll never shut up about it,” you groan, stepping closer to her.
“Yeah,” she hums, her grin stretching wider. “So?”
"A little help?" Yelena wheezes, glaring daggers at the two of you. "Hello? Your sister is dying."
“Yes,” you reply, not taking your eyes away from her green pools.
“Perfect,” she breathes, before pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I'll pick you up tomorrow at six.”
"Fucking unbelievable," Yelena mutters and yelps when Melina shushes her with a pinch and a hissed "don't ruin my hard work".
Kate just looks like she's about to faint.
You grin. "I can't wait."
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luveline · 2 months
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i think it would be adorable seeing a conversation of spencer freaking out about pregnant!bombshell and hotch just calmly telling him all about different ways to help and them talking about new dad fears :((
pregnant!reader, 1k (sorry it was more about the pregnant part than the new dad fears!)
Hotch doesn’t know what Spencer’s going to say when he knocks, but he ushers him inside his office regardless. He has the appearance of someone with grief to share; Hotch immediately starts to think of the people he and Spencer have in common. 
“I need your advice,” Spencer says desperately. 
Hotch puts his pen in its holder. “Of course.” 
“She won’t sit down.” 
Hotch lets himself relax. “Ah.” 
“She’s acting like she isn’t pregnant at all. I want her to be happy, but she keeps running up the stairs. What if she falls?” 
“Y/N has very likely thought of that possibility already.” 
“Then why doesn’t she stop?” 
Hotch chews his cheek for a moment. “Spencer, sit down.” 
The chair squeaks as Spencer sits, scrubbing at his face roughly. 
Hotch has watched Spencer grow up, in a way, moving from twenty three to thirty quick as blinking, and he’s watched him fall in love with you, and now he gets to watch Spencer have daily conniptions over your apparent lack of self-preservation. He’s enjoyed it, genuinely, and he doesn’t mind offering some wisdom now as a partner who’s made enough mistakes to know better. 
“Spencer, you can’t make her sit down if she doesn’t want to. And she’s four months pregnant. Pretty soon, she’ll have no choice but to sit down. It’s best if you let her stay active as long as she can, so she stays as healthy as she can.” He leans back in his chair. The smirk is unbidden, but he can’t help it. “But you know this.” 
“Her ligaments are weakening, because of the baby. The pregnancy. It’s about to get much more painful for her,” Spencer says. 
“So?” Hotch prods gently. 
Spencer nods. Glances out the window down into the bullpen, before dragging his chair closer to the desk. “Hotch, it’s like she’s two different people. Or three. There’s the crying one, and the happy one, and the…” 
“The hates you one?” he offers. 
“Yes. Which is luckily quite rare, but terrifying.” 
“Just hormones, Spence.” 
Spencer breathes out. Hotch can’t help the immeasurable wave of fondness he’s feeling for his colleague. He genuinely wants to round the desk and pat Spencer on the back. This is all a learning curve, a way of life. Partners have been wrestling with their scary pregnant wives for long before he and Spencer came around. 
“The happy one is worth it, though,” Hotch guesses. He had some lovely days with Hayley. 
“You know what she’s like,” Spencer says.
Hotch can imagine. Before your pregnancy, you adored Spencer. You’ve doted on him since you met him, and if the glimpses Hotch has seen of you these last few months are any indication, you are immovably in love. Yesterday, you brushed the sesame seeds off of Spencer’s sandwich one by one because he doesn’t like them. The day before, you’d pushed your chair next to his and drawn circles into his arm the entire workday (while, impressively, still managing to finish your assigned consults). 
“There’s a common theme, I think, when she’s angry. She’s usually uncomfortable. I’ve started to go through a checklist,” Spencer says. He sounds guilty. 
“I think it’s a good idea. I noticed you’ve been keeping candy in your bag.” Hotch laughs. Spencer joins in. 
“Just the essentials.” 
Hotch doesn’t doubt that you’re on every prenatal vitamin you could ever need, that Spencer has researched pregnancy from the latest journals to the very rarest myths. He has no doubt that you’re well taken care of. You’re going to be fine. Spencer has no need to worry about you. Hotch might have cause to worry about Spencer, though. 
“Reid, I’ll tell you a secret. It might not work for you, but it worked for me.” 
Spencer holds his hands together. “What is it?” 
“The next time you want her to slow down,” —Hotch lays it out carefully, without judgement for you or any private teasing, just genuine care for the both of you— “you can distract her with the baby.” 
“I’ve tried that,” Spencer says. “She tells me I’m worrying.” 
“Not about the baby’s health. If she thinks everything is alright, it likely is. I mean about the future.” Spencer doesn’t seem to understand. Hotch searches for an example. “Baby shoes, clothes. I once calmed Hayley down from an hours-long meltdown by telling her I thought Jack would have her eyes.” 
“That works?” 
“It’s probably much nicer for her to have you encouraging positive thoughts than negative,” he says gently. 
“I guess I worry too much.” 
“Not too much, Reid. I’m just telling you what worked for me. When it’s over, you’ll miss it. A few years later.” 
They smile. Hotch watches with a distinct fatherly pride as Spencer retreats down into the bullpen where you stand talking animatedly to Anderson. You’ve been on your feet all day, in kitten heels no less, and you look tired but not unhappy. 
Spencer joins you for a while. You show no signs of moving. Hotch figures he’ll give Spencer time to act on his advice and goes back to his paperwork, losing track of time, ignoring the beep of his watch that signals lunch time. 
He finishes his paperwork a little while after. 
“I wonder what she'll have,” he hears Spencer saying. 
“She’ll have my hands,” you insist suddenly, your voice floating up the steps. You’ve always had one of those tones that attracts attention, even when you aren’t shouting. “Don’t girls often get their mom’s hands? And their dad’s noses?” 
He’s expecting Spencer to cite an article on genetic lottery, but he doesn’t. He sounds the polar opposite of how he’d panicked in Hotch’s office. “I think so. I got my mom’s hands, too. She had short nail beds.” A pause. Hotch glances out the window to find you sitting in Spencer’s chair, a sandwich laid out in two halves on a napkin, a tray of vegetable batons in your hands where they rest on your bump. “I hope she has your everything.” 
You lift your chin. Spencer taps your noses together. 
“Can I get you a drink?” he asks hopefully. 
“Yes, please. Anything you’re having.” 
Hotch isn’t smug, exactly, but he is admittedly very pleased at the outcome of his advice. 
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Text
Tells | Ghost x Secret Wife! Reader
Pairing: Ghost x f! Reader
Warnings: blood, wounds, pregnancy, 🥺
Edited: No
A/N: I really wanted to do my own take on this idea. Hope you like it.
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Johnny wasn’t sure how he hadn’t realized it before, after being introduced to his Lieutenant’s wife. There were small, subtle tells that gave away Ghost having a significant other, but he never put the pieces together. Honestly, Johnny was a little upset because he’s in the SAS- he should be able to see things like this. 
The first time he noticed something was strange with Simon was when they were gathering their gear right before going to another mission. They were placing the last of their equipment into their bags. Simon had not put his black skeleton gloves on yet so his wrists were exposed. Johnny didn’t notice anything different until Simon rolled up his sleeves like usual. And there it was. 
A hair tie. 
He didn’t think much about it. Maybe he found it laying around the base. No. That would be weird and there weren’t that many women frequenting the same places as Simon anyways. 
Could he be using it to snap at his wrist when or if he got anxious? Nah.. Ghost stays focused on missions. Johnny doubted Ghost would let anxiety pull a fast one on him in the field. 
Oh! Simon is definitely growing his hair out. Johnny wondered if his balaclava was comfortable with long hair. So he pointed it out. 
“Growing your hair out L.t.?” His lips curled into a little smirk. 
Simon looked up from the full magazine in his hands. Only his eyes gave away his confusion. “No? Why?”
“Your hair tie.” Johnny nodded to his right wrist. “Never took ya for a purple-wearin’ kind of guy, sir.”
Ghost blinked at his Sergeant and then glanced to his aforementioned wrist. Sure enough a bold purple hair tie was bound to his lower arm. Simon was sure he had removed it before leaving home earlier that day. 
“Oh… must have forgot.” Simon spoke absentmindedly. He was remembering his wife. He had gotten home before her and when she came he helped her remove her ponytail, completely forgetting about the hair tie once their kisses got the better of them. 
Simon didn’t say anything else, so Johnny shrugged it off and continued filling his bag with ammunition. Not even two minutes after he forgot what they were talking about when Captain Price called them over. 
~~~~~
The next time something was different with Ghost, Johnny wasn’t even the one who noticed it first. It was Gaz who pointed it out. 
After a long and hard mission, Task Force 141 had finally arrived at base. The team desperately needed showers, so right after hoping off the helicopter everyone went straight to their barracks. 
After their most loved showers everyone went to the mess hall for some real food and not the field MREs they had been eating for the past few weeks. There Kyle had already gotten his portion of food and was digging in. Soap and Price were sitting across from him too, but no Ghost in sight. Simon came in almost halfway through their dinner and sat next to the young Sergeant. The food on his tray was not being eaten. 
That’s when Kyle smelled it. A fruity smell was wafting from the freshly showered SAS powerhouse next to him. Ghost smelled of fresh cut pomegranates and some other fruit notes. It took him by surprise. Kyle would have normally pictured Ghost as a strict standard-issue soap kinda user, not a fruity one. 
“Did they change the regular soaps, sir?” Gaz took the risk. 
Johnny had finished chewing and looked up at his L.t. and Kyle with a questioning look. Then he leaned forward on the table to take a sniff. 
“Is that pomegranate, L.t.?” Johnny chuckled. He’d take any chance to tease his superior. 
Ghost gave them a subtle glare. He had hoped no one would have noticed his mistake. He’d been in a hurry to leave home and well…
“I grabbed the wrong bottle.” He deadpanned then turned to Price, who was shaking his head in disapproval at the two, to ask about any new leads. Clearly, the conversation was over. 
~~~~~
The third time was when their mission went FUBAR. Ghost and Soap had gotten separated from Captain Price and Gaz when their enemies tried to ambush them. In the chaos Soap was shot in the leg, but with Ghost’s help, he was able to escape and hold out until it was safe enough for them to head to the rendezvous point for extraction. 
Now that they were relatively safe, Ghost was searching his packs for supplies to help Johnny with. Johnny wasn’t particularly paying too much attention to what he was doing since he was bleeding out and moaning in pain, but he definitely noticed when Ghost used a tampon to plug the gunshot wound in his thigh. 
“Fuckin’ hells, Ghost! Where’da fuck yous get a bloody tampon from!?”
“It’s an essential tool for survival.” He honestly had no idea how that slipped into his med pouch. Johnny guessed it was so if Ghost had said it. 
~~~~~
Next time they were somewhere in Africa, most definitely melting with the heat. A great bonding experience for the two of them. Their only relief was a slow moving breeze. Soap and Ghost were staking out one of a known terrorist cell’s many compounds. All was quiet for now. 
“Johnny?” Ghost didn’t move from his position, eyes dead on his scope. 
Johnny looked over. “Yeah, L.t.?”
“Once we’re done here, I’m taking you somewhere important. Keep your schedule clear.” Simon’s deep voice sounded out softly. 
“Oh… alright.” He didn’t know what to say. “Okay. Definitely, Simon.” 
He looked back towards the compound. Simon had glanced at that moment to see his little smile. His eyes crinkled. 
~~~~~
True to his word, after their stakeout mission was completed, Simon hauled Johnny into his car and began to drive them to who knows where. All Johnny knew was that the drive took several hours from their base in London to wherever they were in the countryside. 
They were nearly at their destination when Simon pulled them into a long driveway and pressed a button controller on his shade that opened the metal gates. Going through, the road was surrounded by open pastures on both sides. When Johnny looked around more closely he noticed a few horses, and, was that a cow? They were grazing on the lush grass. Was his L.t. taking him to a farm?
“Where are we, sir?” He had to ask. 
“You’ll see, Johnny.” Simon had slowed down so as to not spook any of the animals grazing. 
Two minutes later and the car pulled up to a nice two-story cottage home. It was made from stone and appeared to be like a fairy tale type of house. Johnny quite liked the look of it. He noticed that the lights were on. 
Simon opened the locked door, then took off his skull balaclava. It was clear that he was comfortable enough to forego it. “I called ahead, so dinner should be ready soon.”
Dinner? Who’s made them dinner? Johnny didn’t question him and just nodded. Simon stepped inside, none of the wooden boards squeaked when he walked in them unlike when Johnny stepped on them. His steps alerted the person in the kitchen. A delicious smell was coming out in soft waves. The person poked their head out to see who was there. They weren’t worried because they knew that only Simon had the extra key. 
“I’m home.” Johnny noticed a softness in his voice that he hadn’t heard before. Simon’s large frame was blocking his view of the person. A dog suddenly burst from the kitchen barking at Simon before realizing who he was. It sat down when he started to pet him, his butt wiggling with the fast beat of his tail. Cute. Then the dog, a German shepherd, turned to him and started sniffing him with caution. Johnny let him sniff his hand and after a bit he licked his hand and wagged his tail. Approved. 
“Welcome home, Simon!” The person’s voice was distinctly feminine. Johnny had moved closer to Simon and the kitchen, so when the woman fully came into view he saw her right away. 
She went in for a hug and that’s when Johnny noticed a small, yet significant distance between the two. She was pregnant and her baby belly was making it a little harder to hug her. But that didn’t stop Simon from embracing her as tightly as he could. When her hand came up to rest against Simon’s shoulder, Johnny noticed again the large diamond on her ring finger. 
“L.t.?” The two lovers separated to look at him. 
“Johnny, come meet my wife.” Simon gave him a knowing nod which Johnny instantly returned. 
He almost couldn’t believe it. His L.t. had brought him home to see his little family. Johnny almost choked up upon realizing the significance of Simon trusting him with this information. Right then and there, Johnny gave Simon a mental promise to help keep his family safe, no matter what.
Bonus: 
“Oh! The baby is kicking! Want to feel ‘em, Johnny?” Simon’s wife asked. 
“Oh, sure! If that’s alright with you?” She took his larger hand in answer and placed it near the top of her baby bump. A few kicks hit his hand. They were rather strong kicks too. Definitely a football star, or another SAS kid, in the making. 
“Woah!” Johnny exclaimed. Then, turning to his L.t. who was watching them interact, his mouth turned into a wide grin. “Does that make me their uncle, Simon?”
“Don’t push it, MacTavish.” His wife giggled. 
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