#i remember being so wrapped up in this 'verse for a while

[etheries1015]

Because I have favorism towards the fae myself (And I'm sorry this is suggestive)

Remember Malleus' voice line about touching his hornes? Now, reader just touches them whenever they can be reached (like when Malleus is using their lap as a pillow) or stroking his tail whenever it's wrapped around Reader. Without realizing it's doing things to him.

Oh my gosh. Don't apologize for suggestive content, I love that shit. Feed me more of it. Heuheuheuheu.

Feeding a Faes hidden desires

Featuring: Malleus Draconia <3

General warnings: Gender neutral reader

18+ / suggestive content minors please don't interact~

It was difficult for Malleus Draconia to open up to people, he had to be the face of pure perfection for the sake of his kingdom. Every action he took, every word he said, would reflect upon Briar Valley and put his position as a prince in either light of greatness, or foolishness. The former was not an option for Malleus Draconia. He was given the best of the best when it came to his studies and academics, except, unfortunately, sex ed.

He understood the bare minimum of course, for reproduction was important for keeping the bloodline of the Draconias strong. What he was not well versed in, however, was the feeling of lust that came with reproduction. He never knew it could feel so... dirty.

When he had agreed to allow you to touch his horns when you insisted, he had no clue what kind of...desires this would stir up in him without realizing.

You had asked the draconic fae to touch his horns and his tail, and he spent a few times urging you otherwise in fear of harming you in some way. Yet it did not take him very long to feel curious and begin to imagine how your hands would feel upon his horns and extremities, starting out purely out of curiosity and the desire to be closer to you.

The first time you touched his horns was in the comfort of the lounge, he bent over for you to touch and feel them freely before being interrupted by Sebeks outraged cries of blasphemy. Since the moment your soft fingertips pressed against the roughness of his obsidian horns, he felt his body shudder at the contact, and something in him he decided to ignore screamed in his mind that it was perhaps a...dangerous endeavor. He had managed to suppress himself from such thoughts and desires, even allowing you to (on occasion) touch his horns and tail at your request. Never for too long, for when the thoughts returned he made a quick excuse to end the session. He wanted to respect you and your soft touch- not sully the romantic gesture with lustful thoughts.

He was often searching for your touch in many different ways, in hugs, cuddles, gentle kisses, holding hands...yet a few months and almost a year, he could feel himself become far more greedier. Malleus would notice the slight changes in himself when you would reach up to grab hold of something on a shelf, the way your shirt rode up your stomach ever so slightly, the way your hands would draw circles around the title page to get a feel for the book, he almost felt himself envious of the piece of literature. He told himself not to lose control, to hold himself together like a proper gentlefae, allowing you to only touch his draconic features on the rare occasion he felt he could keep himself properly composed.

Yet now there you were, in your room in Ramshackle dorm, sitting upon the lap of your lover gently caressing his smooth black horns absentmindedly. It was a comfortable atmosphere for you, being held lovingly by your tall fae significant other in silence while pouring your love and affection into your little pets upon his horns. You muttered a "beautiful..." before leaning up slightly...

and placing a kiss upon his horns.

Malleus let out a sudden high-pitched "urgh!" of surprise, his tail squeezing your waist slightly. Your eyebrows raised in shock, pulling away to look at your now flushed lover, feeling a bit of...excitement from down below. He suddenly removed his tail from your waist and seemed to want to move away from you, until you pushed your body on top of his own, straddling his waist and feeling his arousal between your thighs.

"I-i'm-" He gulped and let out a low moan, his hands shaking hesitantly mid air, not certain where he should place them, "I'm sorry- this is incredibly unbecoming of a king-" You hushed him with a rushed kiss and shook your head, the kiss lasting only a moment prior to you pulling away face as flushed as his and forehead pressed against his own.

"It's natural," You comforted him, "Do you...like it when I touch your horns, Mal...?" You hesitated your inquiry, his response a simple and slow nod giving you confidence to move your hands back to his horns and begin to rub them intimately. You felt his body twitch below you and his tail wrapped itself around your thigh, voice trembling. You hadn't seen the fae prince so shaken up before, so uncertain, so vulnerable. Only in front of you would he allow himself to lose such control.

"Are you...are you certain? I haven't any...experience," He muttered against the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your body and hugging you tightly as if to console himself.

"It's okay," you murmured, hands removing themselves from his horns much to his whining displeasure of the sudden warmth disappearing from them, before shuddering once more as your attention shifted to his tail. Your finger trailed the scales and you felt him twitch between your thighs through his pants as his excitement stirred with every touch you placed upon his extremities.

"I...want it too," You purred.

Malleus's desire gauge was now at 100%

and you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into.

~~~~

Masterlist

[sinofwriting]

It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore - Max Verstappen (& Lewis Hamilton)

Words: 4,816 Summary: Y/N Rosberg, Nico Rosberg’s little sister, returns to the world of F1 after six years away. And she returns in the most unexpected garage. Warning(s)/Note(s): Takes place in 2022, Past Relationship with Lewis Hamilton that involves an age difference of about 11 years. Secret/Private Relationship(s), Smut in the Imola 2022 part

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon | It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore Verse

Jeddah 2022

Lewis scoffs as he reads the trash article. It was anything but substantial and from a site that was more known for just recirculating already known things in their own words and for the occasional lie to stir up drama.

He had only seen it because he had alerts on his personal phone for her name and he couldn’t help but click on it seeing that it was popping up on an F1 related site. He expected it to be one of those top ten outfit things, he hadn’t expected utter garbage.

He’d know if she was returning to the paddock, he would’ve been told, especially during one of the first few weekends of the new season. The first season since he had won that he won’t have the number one on his car and his jaw clenched at the reminder that he was no longer the current world champion, that he had to stay longer, needed to stay longer. He wanted that eighth championship, and until he got it he was staying, needed to. And this year could be the year, would be the year.

“Have you seen this rubbish?” Lewis asks Toto when he steps out of his driver's room and into the garage. It’s filled with life as everyone gets ready for the first free practice session. Shouts being heard back and forth. The whirring of tools as mechanics make sure they’re all working and where they should be. “What rubbish?” His Austrian accent is thick as it wraps around the words. He glances around, looking for cameras, spotting none, he still lowers his voice. “Y/N,” the name is awkward off his tongue and it makes Toto flinch, no one had called her that, not unless it was for something important, like life or death. “Some blog reported that she’s in Red Bull’s garage.” He laughs. The taller man stills.

Toto after all these years still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened between Mouse and Lewis. He knew what had happened between Nico and Lewis, had tried to fix it, to patch it up, to stay neutral, but his preference for Lewis had been obvious to Nico and the brotherhood that had been so strong, had spanned so many years, ended quicker than it began as the season drew on and the tension got tighter.

And while he hadn’t managed to play middle man without one of them getting mad, shouting, screaming, storming away like a toddler. Mouse had. She had easily gone between the two men as they both threw fits. He still wasn’t sure how the girl had done it, barely an adult, but dealing with two grown men, but she had and handled it like a champ. Toto had never been allowed to hold Nico’s trophy like Lewis had allowed him to when he had won before, but he knew and had seen how Nico let her hold. As if it was not just his but hers as well.

Toto had expected when the 2017 season started even with Nico, leaving, retiring, for her to come anyways. Had set aside passes for her, made sure that she was in the system to be allowed in despite knowing that she would show up with Lewis, because that’s how it had always been. If she wasn’t showing up with her brother, she was showing up with Lewis. But she was a no show and when he tried to reach out, he was blocked.

She went full no contact with everyone in the racing world and at first Toto had thought that maybe something serious had happened, but she was still posting on her blog, though there was a distinct lack of F1, she just wasn’t talking to him. He could still remember the swell of anger that came over and then the shame that had quickly followed. How he had gone to Lewis to ask if she was alright, if she was mad at him, mad at Mercedes, only for Lewis to flinch, to shake his head. Telling him that he hadn’t heard from her or seen since the day after Nico won his championship. He could still feel the bitterness that rolled off of Lewis’ tongue as he said that none of the Rosberg’s were talking to him.

“It’s not rubbish.” Toto manages to say after a moment, trying to push back the memories, the grief of no longer getting to see Mouse grow up, because god she had just turned twenty-six and the last time he had seen her, she was twenty, still a child in many ways. “She is at Red Bull’s garage.” “What?” “She showed up after all the drivers did, waited I think, and made her appearance. Went straight to Red Bull. She had passes.” “She’s never liked Red Bull.” “You’ve never liked Red Bull.” Toto corrects.

It was a thing that had frustrated much of the Mercedes team, how despite himself, Nico, and Lewis despising Red Bull, she still liked them, would pop into their garage, chat with their drivers, mechanics, engineers, and such. Toto nearly had an aneurysm the first time he saw her and Horner talking.

“Doesn’t make sense.” “No it doesn’t.”

—

“Red Bull, huh? Naughty, naughty girl.” He clicks his tongue. She rolls her eyes, “You already knew that I was going there.” He laughs, “Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you about it.” “Was there a reason you called, Nico?” “What? I can’t check in on my sister?” She rolls her eyes again, but grins. “I just wanted to make sure that nothing happened.” “Lewis didn’t try to talk to me or at least not that I know of.” It was easy to read between the lines with Nico. “I stayed at Red Bull, in their garage, no one but Red Bull personnel came close to me.” “And you still want to do this?” “Yes.” Her voice is soft and she sits on the hotel bed, crossing her ankles. “I’ve missed it, the sport, the paddock, it’s nice to be back.” “And Mercedes?” “I have no interest in talking to anyone at Mercedes, past or present. They don’t matter, not anymore.” “Mouse. You will be careful, yes? I’m not there anymore.” “Careful as can be.”

Australia 2022

He expects her to be at the next race in Australia and he doesn’t know why. It had been one of the races she was always willing to miss as she hated flying there. Not feeling it was worth it.

So he pretends not to be disappointed when no photos of her arriving popping up, not even whispers of rumors of her sneaking in which he wouldn’t believe in the first place. The idea of her sneaking into a race made him scoff. It wasn’t her, that wasn’t how she operated. He knew her, knew she liked the attention of arriving at the races just like he did. He also pretends that it doesn’t hurt to think about how they used to show up together to races.

Imola 2022

“You’re going to win.” She soothes, rubbing his shoulders and he can’t help but let them drop, let her loosen the tension in them. “I retired from the last race.” “And that was the last race.” He wants to deny it, there’s still that feeling that settles at the bottom of his stomach when he doesn’t win, when he isn’t on the podium, in the points. But it’s lessened as he’s been with her. “And tell me, Schat.” He grabs at her hand, gently pulling her until she’s in front of him, standing between his legs. “Will I just win the GP or also the sprint?” She smiles and he can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Both.” She tells him, resting her hands on his face and letting their lips brush together. “You’ll win both, Max.”

He wins the sprint and then the GP and he’s thankful that she isn’t out with the rest of the team when he’s on the podium, that she stayed in his drivers room, waiting for him. Because he knows that if she had, he would’ve ruined their plans of staying private, secret. He would have kissed her, told her that she did it, she told him he was going to win, so he did. He won both of them for her.

Max does tell her that. He tells her that in between champagne flavored kisses, along with thanks and murmurs of his love against her skin as she sighs and tugs at his nomex.

“I could win every race this season with you supporting me, Schat.” His breathing is heavy, he’s in between her thighs, racesuit and nomex just tugged down enough for his dick to be free, ass exposed. She hadn’t protested, but moaned when he ripped through her tights that she was wearing underneath her skirt, and moaned again when he moved her underwear to the side. Rubbing at her clit to get her wet as he quickly prepped her before sinking into her. He repeats it as he thrusts inside her, high on not the two wins, but on her, on her support, her belief. “You're my lucky charm.” She freezes around him, her moans tapering off and he curses as he realizes what he said. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, lips against her forehead. “I did not mean.” “I know.” She sounds sure, truthful, but her legs that had been tight around him, heels digging into him, have loosened.

“If I don’t win a race that is my fault or the teams. It is not yours.” He tells her. She nods but doesn’t look at him. “Schat.” He holds her chin between two fingers, holding eye contact with her. “You are my lucky charm. Not because I think I will win races because of you and your support. Because you make even the races I don’t win feel okay, like I haven’t failed.” “You haven’t failed.” She immediately says frowning and her legs are tightening back up around him. “You can’t win every race no matter how good luck it looks on you.” He flushes at her words. “I know you are different from him. You have shown that already.” She struggles with the next words. “I just don’t think I can handle being called a lucky charm yet.” “Then I won’t.” He tells her. She blinks at him, at how easy he said, at simple he’s making it. “But you said.” “Yes.” He shrugs, shifting his weight and they both hiss at how his body moves from it, both having forgotten that he was still inside her. But he pushes his building arousal away. “But I won’t say it any more. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.” She stares at him for a few seconds before smiling. “Ik houd van je Max.” He smiles back at her, kissing her. “Ik houd van je, Schat.”

He goes to pull out, unable to ignore the arousal building in him anymore, but not wanting her to feel like they need to have sex, but her heels are pressing into him, thighs tightening around him.

“Fuck me, Max.” He says her name, quiet and with wide eyes. She moves her hips and he follows them with a snap of his own. “You won two races.” She murmurs, breathing tickling his lips before she’s placing her lips on his jaw, moving them down to his neck. “Fuck me, Max. I want you to. Want to celebrate with you like this.”

She’s sucking a mark into his skin and he’s choking down a groan. “Just us two, our own quick celebration before you have to go with your team. Before I’m left all alone in our hotel room.” He starts to thrust again, pressing his lips against hers before she can say anything else, before he really leaves any earlier than he was already planning to at the dinner celebration the team was holding.

As he continues to thrust into her, his lips stay against hers, muffling both of their sounds, but as he feels his balls tightening, he breaks them apart, pressing her face into his neck, encouraging her to bite at him as his other hand goes between their bodies, to her clit.

The bite of hers against his collarbone when she clenches around him, cumming, has him hissing. He stills his hips as she comes down from her orgasm, still rubbing at her clit, but more gently.

“Where do you want it?” He asks, when she bats his hand away from her and presses for him to continue to rock into her body. His orgasm is quickly approaching and really he should be pulling out, just finish in his own hand in case he finishes inside her before she says it's okay. But she’s tight and warm and feels too good. “Do you want it in your mouth? Want me to pull out? Finish in my hand, feed it to you?” She moans at his words, at the thing they’ve done once before. “Or do you want me to leave you something? Cum inside you and have you feel it drip out, go back to the hotel with just your underwear stopping it from dripping down your leg and ruining your tights.” “Inside Max. Please, inside me.” He groans at her words, hips speeding up. He only manages a few solid thrusts before he’s shuddering, pressing as close as he can as cums inside her, muffling a moan against her shoulder.

His hips twitch a little in the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants against her shoulder.

“You’re going to kill me.” “With what?” She laughs. “Orgasms?” “With your dirty little mind.” He tells her, slowly pulling out, rubbing at her thighs as he does. She laughs again and he smiles at how her whole face lights up.

Miami 2023

It’s Miami. It’s extravagant. It's the first race at the new circuit. It’s her.

She’s dressed in a soft color, bringing out her eyes. She’s wearing the bracelet he gave her when she turned fourteen, the ring her father gave her that once belonged to her grandmother. She’s not wearing the necklace he gave her when she turned eighteen. It’s back in Monaco, still sitting on the nightstand of what’s still her side of the bed.

She has new bracelets, rings, and a new necklace. The necklace makes his jaw clench, fists tighten. He had never thought to consider that maybe she’d be with someone else after all these years. He hadn’t, not for anything more than one night.

Lewis stares at the clasp of her necklace. Wonders if it’s worth anywhere near what he gave her. Wonders who gave it to her. Some boy with a trust fund? Some guy that managed to make it to the top not because of hard work but because of connections?

He doesn’t know and it burns alongside the anger. He used to know nearly everything about her and he still knows her, he just doesn’t know the new things and that hurts worse than not knowing her at all anymore.

He watches as Geri fixes the necklace for her and wonders when exactly she got so close to Horner’s wife. “Where exactly did you get this darling?” She glows at the name, “From a jeweler that Nico loves. I can never remember the name.” The burning inside him vanishes at his name. Something had changed, he knew something new about her. Necklaces were no longer just things she wore from significant others.

Spain 2022

He cocks an eyebrow as George comes up to him nervously, messing with his hands. “You alright?” “Yeah, I just heard a weird rumor.” His eyes dart away and George hates that Toto is making him do this but doesn’t want to think about why, can feel the headache from just imagining thinking about the why. “What did you hear?” “Apparently, Y/N Rosberg,” Lewis stills at her name and curiosity clutches at George before he pushes down and away. “got snuck into the Red Bull garage.” The older man immediately scoffs. “Yeah, right. She likes arriving at the races.” He raises his hands, “that’s just what I heard.” “Well, it’s wrong. A shit rumor. Anyone who knows Mouse,” the nickname leaves his mouth before he can think, can stop it, “knows that she loves arriving on a race weekend, all the cameras, getting to show off whatever outfit she put together.” “Just what I heard, mate.” George repeats, before quickly retreating, cursing Toto out underneath his breath as soon as he rounds the corner and is far away from Lewis.

Monaco 2022

She’s not at Monaco. She’s not at Monaco. The words are on repeat in his head. He doesn’t understand it. She lived here or maybe had lived here. Monaco was small, it was hard to imagine that he had never run into her since the end of 2016 but then again he managed to dodge him. So it was possible.

He just didn’t like the idea of it. That if she still lived here that she had made sure to dodge him, to make sure they never ran into each other.

Austria 2022

She doesn’t show up at Baku, her favorite circuit, Montreal, or Silverstone, but she’s here at Austria. He can’t make sense of why she’s showing up at the races she is. Can’t make sense of why it’s only Red Bull’s garage that she visits.

It’s driving him insane trying to make sense of it. Just like he can’t make sense of another rumor that she sneaked into watch the race in Baku. This one hadn’t been quiet though from George. It had made its run on twitter and instagram, though most fans of hers just like him, knew that they were false. Her blog was still full of talking about how much she loved showing up at race weekends, feeling the energy, interacting with fans, even if they were years old. It was telling that she never deleted them. And he knew that she’d never sneak into a race.

July 2015

“Lew?” Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as if she’s afraid he fell asleep. He makes a humming noise, keeping his eyes closed but pressing his fingers a bit more into her back as they dance along her spine. “When do you stop?” He frowns at the vague question, eyes blinking open. “Stop what?” “When did you stop seeing me as Nico’s sister? As a kid?” His fingers pause as he thinks about her questions, wonders if he really wants to tell her, really wants her to know. He takes a deep breath, in and out of the nose before letting his fingers continue to dance. “As Nico’s sister? Probably around 2011 and Nico wasn’t hiding you away from everyone as much. I still see you a bit as his sister, don’t know if that will ever change.” She nods, “and as a kid?” “December 2013.” He’s just happy that he doesn’t remember the day. “Nicole and I joined Nico, Viv and you on that yacht.” She makes a humming noise, curling closer to him. “Nicole noticed actually.” And he has to chuckle remembering his then girlfriend's reaction. “She hadn’t seen you for a few months and had never seen you like that. Told me that I’d have to help Nico out with keeping guys like us away from you.” She huffs out a laugh, but doesn’t say anything, sensing that he’s not done. “She said that and I looked and suddenly you weren’t five years old content only in Nico’s arms, or ten crying because Keke and Nico were leaving without you again. You had grown and you were fucking gorgeous.” She stares at him, unsure of what to make of what he just told her. Not sure how she felt that it was Nicole that had made him realize that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. “You know,” she starts. “I had boobs way before I was seventeen.” Lewis sputters out a laugh and she laughs as well. “Well, I wasn’t looking.” She shakes her head, before tucking it into the crook of his neck. “No, just waited until I was a month away from being legal.” “Yeah and I waited longer to do anything about it.” “Not that much longer.” She mumbles, grinning against his skin when he pinches at her.

Spa 2022 They're making a statement, not one that says much, her prior years coming to so many races and being friendly with drivers preventing that, but it’s still a statement.

It’s the second race since she’s returned instead of arriving before all the drivers or after when making an appearance in front of the cameras that she arrives when they are. More importantly she’s arrived with Max. She’s not on his arm or holding his hand, there’s a well kept distance between them. One that reads friendly, close, but not intimate. She wasn’t quite ready to go public with him, but she was willing to make it known that she and Max were friendly with each other.

“It’s nice having you here.” She smiles at Sophie, taking her eyes briefly off the little boy in her arms. “It’s nice being here.” The couch sinks next to her and she leans into Max as he wraps an arm around her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her temple. “Looks good on you.” He murmurs, smiling at his nephew in her arms. “A baby? Or a baby that looks identical to you?” “Well I’d much prefer one that looks like both of us.” She sends him a look, but can’t not smile at his words. “Sap.” “Just for you.”

Two days later she sits in a garage for the first time in years during a race and she remembers how much she loved it. There was nothing better than watching a race from the garage.

She watches as Max manages to recover from his grid penalty, making his way through the field and winning the race and she cheers with the rest of the garage, hugs everyone she can reach. As everyone runs out to greet Max, to watch as he celebrates his win, she stays.

Max didn’t have any impulse control when high on adrenaline, she knew exactly what would happen if she went out there with him, so she went back to his driver's room and waits for him.

Dutch 2023

“Mouse!” Lewis calls and he watches as she stills while Horner stiffens at the name. It makes him itch. Horner and the rest of Red Bull had always been the odd ones out, never calling her Mouse, but rather her name or girly, the last she took a shining to.

He could still remember the first time they had heard Horner call her that. He had been ready to punch him, but she had beamed at the team principal, jumping up to give him a hug and asking him about his wife.

“Lewis.” Her voice is cool and he nearly flinches at her calling him Lewis. He had never been Lewis to her, always Lew. “How have you been? It’s been awhile.” Nearly six years, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Good. So has Nico.” He flinches at his name. “Good.” His voice is quiet. “That’s good.”

Horner wraps an arm around her shoulders, “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.” She nods and doesn’t even glance at him as she and Horner walk away, leaving him looking after her with despair and grief threatening to swallow him whole.

Japan 2022

He watches as she looks at Max with tears in her eyes as the Red Bull crew cheer as Max gives his post race interview, smiling as he thanks the fans, smiling because he won his second championship.

As soon as the interview is done, he’s launching himself back into the arms of the Red Bull crew, they all easily take his weight, patting him on the back, cheering for him. And then he watches when as soon as they release him, Max sees her. His eyes going wide with surprise at seeing her.

Lewis watches as she leans as far over the barrier as she can, wrapping her arms around his neck as his go around her waist to hold her. He watches but nothing prepares him for what happens next, the pain that strikes his heart. Because suddenly she’s kissing him, tears running down her face and Max is kissing her back like he’s done it a hundred times.

He doesn’t hear it or see it, but one of Red Bull’s cameras does and it makes it into their video to celebrate Max winning his second championship. Her saying that she’s so proud of him, never been prouder, and that she loves him and the easy way Max says it back, no hesitation.

It’s that, not her kissing Max in front of seemingly the whole world, that makes him realize that the future he had imagined, the image of her that was still the nineteen year old girl he fell in love with, is gone and has been since the night that Nico won his championship and when she came to comfort him, he only had harsh and degrading words for her.

They never could have been together again after his accusations of her feeding Nico information, blaming her for his lack of winning because she wasn’t supportive enough, his accusation of the lucky charm she was supposed to be was nothing but bad luck just like she was and always had been.

He had deluded himself into thinking that they still would end up together, that her being the love of his life, meant that he was also hers. He’s deluded himself for almost six years and now it’s not just heartbreak that fills him but shame and guilt. Because how could he have ever thought she’d want to be with him again when he never even tried to offer her an apology or to tell anyone about her.

@cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @quackquackhun @crystals-faith @andreea-15-25 @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @benstormy @elliegrey2803

[dejwrld]

summary — in which the neighbor becomes a bystander in an explicit window show by infamous artist geto suguru.

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ female reader, female anatomy described, exhibitionism, oral (suguru receiving), masturbation (f.solo), drug usage/drug consumption (weed), voyeurism, artist!geto suguru, if you squint a lil bit–you may see hints of dom!suguru, takes place in the same verse of my rockstar!choso fic, minors do not interact

sticky note from deja — one of my babies that i hold close to my heart. a repost from my old blog—only the girlies who followed my blog 2 years ago remember this gem. completely ahead of its time.

The large window was something you had to get used to. You thought about putting curtains up, but you adored how the natural sunlight gleamed into your newest condo. Or the fact that you had a perfect view of the apartment across from you. You weren’t even aware that someone lived in the apartment until you were near the window and saw a male figure carrying art supplies. Your curious eyes squint to get a better look at the person, but you just couldn’t see that far.

As you ate dinner alone, you would find yourself peeping at the man across from you. He always seemed to be cooped up in his artwork. Rubbing his hands that were covered with paint onto his sweatpants or ripping a piece of paper out from his sketchbook. You found yourself wanting to get a closer look, intrigued to get a closer look at the mysterious man. So you brought a pair of binoculars. Cheeks burning in embarrassment as you realize you were a peeping Tom. How desperate could you be to invade a man’s privacy like this?

One evening when you were twisting and turning in your bed, you gave up trying to sleep. Your feet dragged across the wooden floors towards your kitchen to make your favorite tea that usually helped you fall asleep. As you walked by the huge window where the moon illuminated inside your place, your eyes nearly popped out of your head seeing the view. Your hands frantically picked up the binoculars as you looked directly towards the artist’s apartment. There he was sitting in one of his living room chairs, a rolled blunt in between his lips as another woman was in between his legs. Your heart pounded in your chest watching his fingers comb through his long jet black hair as the woman’s head bobbed up and down on his cock.

You kept mumbling to yourself that this felt so wrong. But your eyes couldn’t pry away from the sight. The way he inhaled and exhaled while a smoke cloud swirled above him as he held the rolled substance in his hand. His other hand was placed on the back of the woman’s head moving with her movements. He was enjoying the wonderful feeling of being on cloud nine due to the weed he was consuming and then being brought back down from his high due to a woman’s lips wrapped around his cock. You felt the growing heat in between your thighs as you put the binoculars down, your hands growing sweaty at the thought of what you just witnessed. You wanted to close your eyes and hopefully, when you opened, you were just hallucinating…dreaming maybe. High off the same thing, the artist was smoking. When you brought the binoculars back to your eyes, your heart seemed to drop in your chest. There he was, the artist giving you a sly wave. If you squint hard enough, you would even admit that he was giving you some cocky smirk.

He knew you were watching.

You watched through the binoculars as he gently nudged the woman off him. The woman’s face was covered with her own saliva as he gripped at her hair dragging her closer to the huge window just so you can get a better look. Your heart seemed to beat faster as you tugged one of your dining room chairs closer to the window, your thighs clamped shut to ignore the ache from your pussy that was begging for attention. As your eyes peeped through the binoculars once more, the woman continued to suck the artist off. His rolled blunt was in between his lips as he would toy with the woman’s brunette hair, eventually putting it in a ponytail to stop her saliva from colliding with her hair.

“Shit.” You muttered to yourself, the little things like that turned you on. You couldn’t help but play with the band of your pajama shorts. You were aware that if he knew you were watching, he could most likely see you.

You would put the binoculars down for a second as you tugged your shorts down. You stepped out of them letting them decorate your wooden floors as you sat back down in the chair you pulled up. Your eyes once again peeked through the binoculars once you picked them back up. The artist’s large hand was placed on the window keeping his balance from the sensational pleasure he was receiving.

Your eyes peered at the man as his head fell back in complete bliss. Seeing the way his hips thrust into the woman’s mouth caused your fingers to climb into your panties. Your fingers rubbed at your folds, shocked at the fact that just by being a peeping Tom, you’ve grown wet. Brain rotting with the thoughts of the artist in the other building as you massaged your own cunt, your other hand gripping at the binoculars to get a perfect view of the artist.

Your lips parted slightly to let out a soft whimper as your fingers made a circular motion on your clit that was begging to be touched. The sight of the artist getting a blowjob from another woman caused you to be soaked below if only you were the one whose lips were wrapped around his cock. The thought of it caused you to push two of your fingers inside to feel around your damp walls. Your fingers stroked eagerly to hit that one spot that caused your toes to curl up in pure bliss. Binoculars glued to your eyes as you watch the artist stare in your direction. A smirk on his face as he would quickly put the blunt he was smoking out. You watched as his muscles flex at each movement the brunette made on his dick. Your teeth grind against your lower lip as you remove your fingers from yourself. Your own wetness glistened your fingers that now were rubbing at your clit.

You watched as the artist’s hips thrust forward. The brunette on the floor grasped at the rug under her knees, trying to hold her balance due to the sudden aggression from the man in front of her. Saliva dripped on the floor and on the brunette’s lap as tears trickled down her cheeks. The actions you were viewing caused you to rub even faster; you could feel the heat pooling in the pit of your abdomen. You watched as the artist’s head fell back as the brunette-haired woman used her hands to massage his shaft. Mimicking his motions as your head also fell back and once again insert your fingers to push around your wet walls. Your imagination lets you wonder and wish that the artist’s fingers were inside you, edging you on bit by bit. A moan hitched from the back of your throat as your vision was getting blurry. The last sight through the binoculars you caught a glimpse of before you were pushed into your orgasm was the artist removing himself from the woman’s mouth. A mixture of his cum and the brunette’s saliva dripped off the artist’s cock.

The binoculars clattered to the ground once you felt your walls clutch around your fingers. Your chest rose up and down as you seemed to slump in the wooden chair you were sitting in. Sitting in your own pool of wetness, you could see that the artists had also finished up. The girl who was blowing him off was walking out of the living room to clean herself up, her face a sloppy mess as she licked her lips of any cum that spilled out her mouth. You quickly grabbed the binoculars, your cheeks steamed with embarrassment as you couldn’t even believe the action you’d just done. You see him staring right back at you when you peek through them to end your night. He had a grin on his face as he gave you a wave right before he turned his living room light off, most likely to go join the woman he just face-fucked.

You placed the binoculars down and started to clean the mess you made. Your mind is still racing due to the actions you just committed. It was such a new thing, and your friends wouldn’t even believe you if you told them what you did. You pushed the chair back into the dining space of your condo and eventually went to shower. Praying that the shower's steam would push out the thoughts of the artist living rent-free in your mind.

The following morning, you seemed to have dozed off on your living room couch last night. A fluffy blanket tugged on your body, and your television was on. As you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you seemed to begin remembering the following night's events. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you jolted up, going towards the window. You couldn’t see the artist walking around his apartment, nor did you see the brunette woman that was wrapped around his cock. But you did see something. You grabbed your binoculars, peeping through them for one last time, and your lips parted to let out a scandalous gasp.

There stood in the living room, close to the large window that the artist once was using as support last night, a painting. A painting so explicit that it caused you to place your hand on your chest in disbelief. The painting was a painting of you last night. On the canvas was an explicit painting of you masturbating at the view of him. You couldn’t help but notice the details he put into his work, especially considering that you live in an apartment building across from his. He had to have such a vivid imagination to create such a piece.

And in the corner, you saw his signature in black paint.

Geto Suguru.

The artist’s name was Geto Suguru.

[cutielando]

out of line ~ rafe cameron

my masterlist

Ever since you could remember, Ward had always been hard on Rafe. It might have been because he was his only son, it might be because he wanted him to mature early on, or it might be just because he hated his son.

At least that's what Rafe had come to believe.

Nothing he did ever seemed to be right. His father would always find faults in every single thing Rafe did, crushing the boy's morale every single time.

"I don't know how to please him anymore" he would always say when he came to you, all sad and unmotivated to even live.

You hated seeing your boyfriend like that. You hated the way Ward acted towards his son. You hated the fact that he always made Rafe feel bad about your relationship, always filling his head with thoughts that he didn't deserve you, that he should do you a favor and let you go because you would be better off without you.

It made your blood boil.

As you were laying on the couch in Rafe's home, his body laying on top of yours and your arms wrapped around his body, you were hoping to God that his father would not ruin your night.

"Rafe?" hearing Ward's voice made the both of you tense.

Rafe got up from laying on you and sat upright on the couch just as Ward walked in.

Eyeing you, you could see him clench his jaw and swallow harshly.

"Yes, dad?" Rafe said, clearing his throat and looking up at his father.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking between the both of you.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, and you knew that Rafe was desperately weighing his answers to make sure he wouldn't say the wrong thing.

That is precisely why you decided to be the one doing the talking tonight, hopeful to finally give the older man a piece of your mind.

"We were watching a movie before you interrupted us" hearing you speak made Rafe's heart start beating rapidly.

He wiped his head around to look at you with wide eyes, but you kept eye contact with the older Cameron man.

"Excuse me?" his voice was dangerously low, but you weren't afraid of him and had no intention of backing down.

"You heard me. Do you want something with Rafe or not?" you asked, now standing up and stopping while face-to-face with him.

"You better watch your mouth, young lady" his threats fell on deaf ears, you were done cowering in fear of him.

Your family was the second richest one on the whole island, so you were also entitled to speak your mind seeing as you weren't a poor little Pogue afraid to speak in front of a Kook.

"That's funny, coming from the guy whose ego is so big he has to belittle his own son to feel better about himself" that struck a nerve.

Ward took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. His fists were pulsing, his veins were enlarged, he was on the verge of exploding.

But he knew better than that, he knew better than to make an enemy of your father. While Ward must think he's got the dangerous associates on the island, your father was by far more versed than him in that department. 

Your family might not have been the richest, but it was for sure the most dangerous one. And Ward knew that.

"How dare you?" 

"How dare I? How dare you look at your son, your own flesh and blood, and belittle him like he's a stranger to you? How can you stand there and insult him, make him feel worthless after how much he does to impress you, to satisfy you? And nothing ever seems enough. How dare you fill his head with lies about our relationship when you and I both know I am the only person who loves him and takes care of him. I am the only one who wants the best for him, not even you as his father? What the fuck is wrong with you?" you felt so good getting everything off of your chest.

Rafe was still speechless, still sitting behind you on the couch.

He was grateful for every word you had said, having conveyed everything he had been feeling but was too afraid to tell his father.

"You are way out of line here, bitch" he spit with venom in his voice.

Your eyes darkened and you stepped even closer to him, being almost face to face with him.

"Call me a bitch again and see what happens. We don't want to repeat what happened at Midsummers, now, do we? Or did you forget what my daddy did?" your voice now being dangerously low, knowing you had struck another nerve.

Ward visibly tensed, having remembered that your father had almost killed him in a fight when he insulted you at Midsummers while being intoxicated.

He cleared his throat and nodded, taking one last look at Rafe before turning around and leaving the house.

"Thank you" Rafe's small voice said as you next back next to him on the couch, unpausing the movie you had been watching.

"Never thank me for that. I want you to feel safe, and I was just telling the truth. You know my father has your back, he loves you and he would do anything for you" you told Rafe, who nodded.

Your father and him have had a very close and special relationship ever since you started dating almost 3 years prior. 

Due to the fact that you were an only child and your father had always wanted a son too, he treated Rafe like he was his own. He knew about his situation with Ward and always made sure he was being taken care of.

You sometimes thought your father liked your boyfriend more than you.

"I know, but still. Thank you for everything, you don't know how much I love you, baby" he leaned his body back on top of you, savoring your warmth and delicate touch.

"I love you too, so much"

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[michelle-is-writing]

Christmas, Dr. Gregory House

Word count: 1.8k~

Warnings: mention of sex, House being House

"It's a marshmallow world in the winter," I sing, stringing lights on my apartment's Christmas tree. "When the snow comes to cover the ground," I sing the next verse of Brenda Lee's song before turning toward Greg with a smile. Sitting on the couch, the salt and pepper haired man sips at a small glass of eggnog (with a shot of whiskey in it, no less) while staring at the tree with a bored look on his face. Even when he sees my smile, he still remains there with a frown.

"Greg," I state his name, his blue eyes flickering up to mine. Seeing that I have his attention, I smile. "Come help me set up the tree."

"Why? So we can just take it down two weeks later?" He asks, making me sigh, my smile now a frown to match his. I love Greg, but I absolutely hate his pessimistic views - and with it being the week of Christmas, I will not let his negative opinions ruin anything.

"Fine," I say to him, placing the string of lights down beside me. "If you don't want to do that, then do something else for me," He raises an eyebrow in question at me, waiting for me to finish. "Come dance with me."

All of a sudden, he breaks into a dry laugh before stopping all of a sudden with his usual frown. "Have you forgotten?" He asks me, holding his hands over his crippled leg. “Crippled, if you haven’t noticed.”

Rolling my eyes with a smirk, I nod at him. "How could I forget?" I ask him, "There isn't a moment that goes by that you don't use it to your advantage," with that, I let out a fake thoughtful sigh. "And there isn't a moment that goes by where I don't say 'no' to you on getting on top."

At my response, he tilts his head sideways while staring at me with squinted eyes like a child would if you teased them. At his behavior change, I smile once again before walking over to him by the couch. Serves him right for being a smart ass all the time, and finally, I said something he had no clap-back to.

"I don't want to break dance or anything like that," I tell him, taking his rough and big hands into my own smaller ones. "I just want to slow dance with you."

For once, he slowly smiles up at me before standing up with a little help from me. "Okay," He says, stumbling a bit as he tries to stand up straight without his cane. "We'll dance - but if I fall, I'm taking you down with me."

Giggling at him, I nod and kiss his lips for a short second before we wrap our arms around each other and start slow dancing. The next Brenda Lee song that comes on is a slower and sweeter song that I enjoy a lot. Greg on the other hand doesn't really care for anything Christmas, so he could give two thoughts less.

"Rockin' around the Christmas Tree at a Christmas party hop," I sing in a light voice, watching as Greg continues to smile and stare at me. "Mistletoe hung where you can see, every couple tried to st-" I continue on, until abruptly being cut off by Greg's lips on mine. We continue to kiss each other for a few seconds until pulling away, a smirk resting on Greg's face.

"What was that for?" I ask him with a shocked grin. Still smirking, Greg just looks above him with me following his gaze, a small green piece of berry filled fern hanging above us. I don't remember putting that up there...

"I thought it would be useful," Greg states as we both look back at each other. "Turns out this cripple can do a few things for his woman," He notes, matter-of-factly.

Smirking back at him, I shake my head in comical disbelief. "Out of all of these Christmas decorations, you put up mistletoe?" I ask him, receiving a shrug back.

"I like this tradition better than the rest," Greg confesses, still gently swaying us. "Besides," he leans in close, his lips close to my cheek. "It benefits us both."

In response, I can't help but slap his shoulder with a giggle. "You perv," I chide, moving to rest my hands on his shoulders while his linger on my waist. "How long has that been up there?"

"I put it up this morning," He answers with a gentle tone just before we both fall into a comfortable silence. Did I expect Greg to do anything festive during these happy times? Absolutely not. But was I really all that surprised in finding mistletoe that just so happens to be festive? Kind of. Being a little bit of a narcissist, Greg only put that up because he could use the excuse that it was Christmas themed instead of the actual reason being that he just wanted to kiss me without showing spontaneous romance - a possible weakness to him.

As we dance with each other, I quickly notice the usual bags underneath his eyes are slowly fading away and the blueness of his irises have turned more lively with brightness lively in them. In the short amount of time of being away from work, Greg is starting to look a bit younger than he actually is. Although, I do think this is due to him being away from the stressful environment that is his work. And to think, he actually took these days off for me; maybe he isn't such a narcissist after all...

During my thinking, Greg has managed to move us over near the couch while we were dancing, only to trip and cause us both to fall over on the soft cushions. Of course, he did this on purpose. Scrap my earlier thought - he's definitely a narcissist.

"Oops," He says sarcastically, "I fell," Greg points out, staring up at me with a small smirk beginning to take over his lips once more.

At his goofiness, I roll my eyes at him and lightly pat his chest a few times before moving to get up. However, when I go to move over him, Greg quickly catches me in his arms and pulls me back down to his chest, holding me close to him as if he wants me to stay where I am.

"No, no, just stay here, please," He begs, his voice resuming its gentle tone from earlier. Nonetheless, it takes me by surprise. I would have never expected Greg to say that. As I mentioned before, he'll use any excuse he can find to make it seem like he's not being romantic or sweet.

"Okay," I tell him, my eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion as I nuzzle my head further into his chest to become a bit more relaxed in his embrace. "Are you comfortable?" I ask, moving my leg away from his bad one.

"The most I'll ever be," He answers me, his hand smoothing down my hair. "Have I ever told you how great it is to lie with you?" He questions me, making me roll my eyes once again.

"Are you talking about when we’re having sex or when we do this?" I ask for clarification, making him chuckle.

"I mean like this," He answers as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. "Then again, I do enjoy both situations, but I'm talking about right now," I can't help but smile as my cheeks heat up a little in response to his words, a sigh soon falling from his lips. "I've been married before and had a few girlfriends, but nothing with them could ever compare to how I feel with you. You just make me feel the best I have felt in a while," He further admits, his voice still soft and quiet with his confession.

Sighing sweetly, I shake my head against the soft material of his grey jumper before speaking. "I bet you've told all your women that," I half-joke, quickly receiving an answer back.

"No, actually, I haven't," Greg retorts, making me look up at him with furrowed eyebrows. Bright blue eyes look back at me with no emotion, yet at the same time, pure honesty. "I haven't told any other women this because it wouldn't be true, and well, I wouldn't care if they heard me say it or not," Sitting us up a bit, Greg places his hand on my cheek in a sensual and meaningful way.

"(Y/n), I love you," He confesses, his voice never wavering or cracking up. In response to his words, my eyes slightly widen as I feel my whole body become tense. "And I know I may not be the most expressive guy when it comes to my emotions, but believe me when I tell you that you have made me a better man," He adds on, his thumb now beginning to softly run over my cheek.

"Or, at least, I think I have," Greg adds, giving a soft shrug. "Ultimately, it’s you and the guys at work that would see it, so you might have to ask them just to be sure," his words make me roll my eyes that are currently tearing up, but I can't resist my smile at the same time. Once again, Greg can't let it be known that he can be spontaneously romantic at times. "They'd probably tell you I'm still an ass, but I think-"

Before he can say anymore, I move forward and press my lips to his in a sweet kiss. Of course, he kisses back instantly, but not before he smiles as well. Once we pull apart, I stare down at him breathlessly before speaking. "I love you too, Greg," I tell him, the four words I have been dreaming about telling him falling freely from my lips. "I have for a long time, but I was... I was too scared to say it."

Greg then smiles back at me and tilts his head to the side as he moves his arms down to my waist and holds my body closer to his. "Well," he says, searching his mind for a sarcastic answer. A few seconds pass until he sighs and looks back at me with an even bigger smile. "Here’s your Merry Christmas," He chimes, jokingly mocking me.

Grinning at him, I shake my head before he moves forward and reattaches our lips once more, the tune of Christmas carols playing behind us as we kiss. Maybe Greg won't be so pessimistic about Christmas anymore. I mean... we can only pray and hope so. Nonetheless, I guess it really is a Merry Christmas to me.

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Remember me as small (I fear I've swallowed the sun whole)

comfort came against my will - series masterlist here

pairing: mentioned dick grayson x reader, platonic bruce wayne x reader

length: 900

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: bruce is a sort of father figure to reader, reader kind of has a meltdown, dick is idk downstairs partying while this happens

a/n: soft launching Good Dad Bruce Wayne here before I let y'all have the bruce wayne verse, I think it's nice to read it isn't always easy before this but it's unnecessary

You're standing in Bruce's study when he finds you, drink in one hand while the other stays wrapped around your own waist - like a child clinging to their parent, except the only person you had to cling to was yourself. You don't move when he approaches, quietly closing the door behind him and coming to stand next to you, eyeing where the joint contract of your company's new deal with Wayne Industries sits framed on his wall amongst his various other professional achievements. 

"Have I made enough of myself?" you ask quietly, and the tone of your voice sends warnings through Bruce's head. He's heard you like that before - small and scared and tired. Unsure. And you never let yourself be seen as unsure. But he'd seen it a few times, many years ago when he'd first met you, a lost child with your hackles raised too high to let him help you. He didn't like hearing that voice coming from you, especially not now when you were here in his home - somewhere where you should be safe and happy.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" he prompts gently, tenderly pulling your drink out of your hands and setting it on a nearby table. You look at him with wide, watery eyes and his heart clenches.

"Have I done enough?" you whisper, as if speaking any louder would tear holes in the blanket you've pulled over your emotions. "I'm not small anymore, right? Not like I was. I… I'm bigger now. I'm good now. I grew into something good, right? I made… I made something of myself… didn't I?"

"If you made any more of yourself, sweetheart, you'd outgrow the sun," he whispers back as he takes one of your hands in both of his, flipping it so that your palm is facing up and he can smooth over the tension under your skin with gentle thumbs and soft pressure. 

"Do you remember when I was small?" you ask tentatively, keeping your eyes trained on your joined hands while he keeps his own trained on you.

"Yes," he says easily, squeezing your hand in acknowledgement. I'm here, it meant. I'm here and I remember you. "Although you were hardly small, even then. Your heart was so big, you just needed time to grow into it."

"Did I grow up well?" your voice wavers and Bruce pulls you closer to him by your joined hands before placing your palm on his chest over his heart. I'm here. I'm here and I'm real and I remember you. He hopes you can feel that through the beating of his heart.

"You grew up perfectly," he says, conviction clear in his voice. "And I couldn't be more proud." You make a small, wounded sort of sound at that and your breath hitches in a way he knows means you're about to cry. He begins to move to pull you into him but pauses when you brace yourself on your own two feet, determinedly steadying yourself on your own against the tidal wave of your emotions.

"Bruce?" you ask. He hums in response.

"I want to go back to being small." That throws him. Of all the confessions that could have passed your lips, that wasn't one he was expecting. The tears that begin to stream down your face, at least, he's prepared for. "I want to be small again, I - I want to go back to when I was small and you offered to love me and take me in and - and I want to say yes this time." You're really crying now, hot tears streaking your cheeks and your chest heaving. "I should've let you when you offered and it's too late and I just - I want to go back to when I could've been loved because I can do it right this time I can say yes I -"

Bruce stops you then, finally, shushing you gently (but firmly, in that authoritative, fatherly way that he does) and pulls you closer to him so that you can bury your face in his chest and sob into the fabric of his dress shirt. He holds you like that for a good long while, doing his best to soothe you despite the worry that knots in his stomach. This isn't like you, he thinks. He doesn't like seeing you collapse like this. A part of him, though, although guilty, is almost relieved - pleased that you've turned to him instead of managing it on your own. As much as he hates to see you cry, he would always rather be there than turn away from you.

"Listen to me very closely, sweetheart," he says gently, once your sobs have quieted and calmed down to little sniffs and hiccups. You pull away to look at him. "It's not too late," he promises. "You're always home here - always. And I'll always be here. And… and I do love you. I've never been the best at showing it. I'm sure - I'm sure Dick's told you enough about that." You huffed out a laugh.

"Yea, uh, he's mentioned it."

"Yea," Bruce says, shifting his weight. "But, I do love you, and you're just as much my child as the others. I'm sorry I… I'm sorry I didn't realize you needed to hear that sooner. I'm sorry I didn't help more. I thought that maybe letting you keep yourself upright was the best thing to do. I didn't want to push, I - I was so afraid of pushing you away. But I never, ever, wanted you to feel unloved. You're home here, I promise."

[bby-deerling]

IM NEW HERE I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS, AND CONGRATULATIONS FOR 250 FOLLOWERS!!!🪅🪅 Can I request "remember the time" with law!!?$3(+$+$! thank yew!!🐑

thank "ewe" for the request (you are now sheep anon to me)!!! i also combined that other request you sent me about a reader who is clingy while drunk, if that's okay!

this is also part of my lil' counting coins verse, but this can be read standalone as well! [1] [2] [3] (2 and 3 are nsfw, so mdni with those ones!)

law + remember the time (sfw, gn!reader)

wc: 1.0k masterlist

On his way to Dressrosa, Law is becoming increasingly irritated, grumpy, and restless.  Secretly, he’s relieved that you don’t have to see him like this, on edge and touchy, constantly torn between running through his plans in his head and being caught up in painful memories. He sighs to himself at the thought of you, knowing you would be able to handle his moodiness effortlessly; however, as much as he craved your presence, having you here was too much of a risk to even consider.  Though Law had left you behind with the rest of his crew, that didn’t necessarily mean that you had no role to play in his current plans—in truth, it was quite the opposite.

You were there, albeit only in spirit, to ground him.  Memories of simpler times are kept constantly swirling on the backburner in his mind, keeping him sane and giving him something to hold onto when the emotional weight begins to grow too heavy.

When he’s awake late at night, despite knowing he needs rest, as guilt and grief eat him alive, he latches onto the pink flush that dusted your cheeks during the first time he meets you, the countless number of nights the two of you ended up falling asleep on his office couch together after a long night of work, or the thrill at the beginning of your relationship as you both tried to keep things under wraps for as long as possible.  However, the memory of your seemingly well-hidden relationship coming to light is the one he ends up reaching for as a comfort tonight.

The others were bound to find out at some point—secrets were impossible to keep for too long when trapped between the walls of a submarine, after all—but he was hoping to keep the rest of the crew in the dark for longer than a few short months.  You had been on the same page, not wanting to be the target of teasing jokes from Shachi and Penguin until the heat death of the universe, but Ikkaku had gotten you a bit too tipsy one night, clouding your senses and decision-making.  Unceremoniously, you ended up plopping down next to him in the booth he was sitting at, draping your legs over his lap and nuzzling your tired face into his side.

“Knock it off.  We’re in public.” he scolded quietly, bristling at your touch.

“Law, ‘m so tired… Can you take me to bed?” you slurred, face still buried in his shirt.

“You’re wasted.” he observed, directing his words more so to Shachi and Penguin sitting across from him, trying to salvage the situation in any way possible.  This only sends them both into a laughing fit, making Law let out a deep sigh.

“Pay up!  I knew they’d crack this week!  Bepo owes me too!” Shachi exclaimed with a big grin, holding his hand out to Penguin as he calls the mink over.

“No way!” Penguin protested, “It doesn’t count unless they kiss!”  Bepo made his way over to the booth, nearly knocking over Shachi’s drink, leading him to profusely apologize.

“Shachi’s saying we lost the bet, tell him—”

“The bet was when they would slip up in front of us, not when they’d kiss!”

“But we made the bet when Bepo saw them making out in the hallway!”

Law pulled his hat over his eyes and put his head in his hands in embarrassment; you were still clinging to him, and by the familiar, slow patterns of your breathing, you were fast asleep.

“Sorry Captain…” Bepo apologized, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.  Law let out another sigh, unable to resist the urge to forgive Bepo when he gives him those adorable pleading eyes.

“It’s alright, Bepo.” he said, absolving his navigator of any guilt; mentally, he was still running through all of your sneaky trysts on the Polar Tang, trying to figure out when you two could have possibly gotten caught.

“Don’t get too bent out of shape.  We knew before that, Captain.” Penguin said, as if he was reading his mind.  “You started sitting next to them at dinner.”

“And Ikkaku says they haven’t slept in their bed in months.”  Shachi added.

“Plus, you’re always hovering over them in the lab.”

“You’re always with them on island trips!  And you bought them that little snow leopard plush.”

“Oh—Shachi, don’t forget the coin thing they do!”

“Especially the coin thing!”

Law flicked up the brim of his hat and shot them a glare.  “I get it.” he grumbled, wrapping an arm around your sleeping form, seeing no point in keeping up the façade any longer.

“Aww—” they cooed, much to Law’s chagrin; now that the two of you had been found out, he could only hope that the novelty of teasing him would wear off after a while.

“I think you’re a very cute couple, Captain!” Bepo exclaimed with a smile, eyes sparkling.  Law rolled his eyes.

“Sorry Captain—”

“Don’t apologize.” he said, shifting his weight to pull you into his arms and pick you up bridal style.  “Besides, I’ve got to get them to bed.”

Law didn’t stick around to hear the uproar he caused, swiftly making his way out of the bar and leaving them to argue about who really won the bet they had made at his expense.

“You’re in trouble, I hope you know that.” he said when you stir in his arms on the way back to the Polar Tang and gaze up at him, eyes still glazed over.

“They already knew.  Ikkaku told me tonight.  I thought we were being discreet.” you mumbled, letting your eyes drift closed again. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, grateful for the privacy the night sky cast over the two of you.  “So did I.” he said, lips curling into a smile.

Staring up at the stars, laying on his back on the deck of the Sunny, he feels the phantom sensation of his lips on your forehead; the touch from years ago feels fresh, as if you were still curled up in his arms.  He lets out a long exhale, finally feeling deserving of some sleep—after all, he needed to be on top of things mentally so he could make it back to you and the others as soon as possible.

He pictures your smiling face once more before a cloud of darkness swallows him whole, finally allowing him to rest.

[lomlspidey]

༊*·˚ second | riven

★ summary : riven went to your room and found some pretty interesting things about you, oh! also about your little crush on him. 

★ warnings : reader is stella’s sister, angst, slight suicidal thoughts, jealous!reader, slight miscommunication, based on the song heather by conan gray

MAIN MASTERLIST

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You have been the second choice for as ling as you can remember. Being the little sister of Stella, you couldn't actually get away from that. 

Always being left by friends because the other one got more popular. Always having last to be picked in a group assignment. 

Always. 

Until one day you didn't feel like that anymore. Until one day you met him. 

It's weird honestly, having feelings for your sister's boyfriend's best friend. 

That was confusing. 

With Riven you always felt like the first choice. The top priority, and not the backup plan. 

But all of that went down the drain when he suddenly had this thing with Beatrix. 

At first you thought it was just a fling. Although that still hurt you, you thought it was anything but having emotions. 

But they got closer, and to anyone, in one glance they could probably say that they're a couple. 

You were fiddling with your pen in one hand, the bottom of it hitting softly at your forehead while the other holding your journal, you jotting down your latest feels and adventures. With the soft voice of Conan Gray filled the calm atmosphere. 

Everyone was out partying and you chose to stay in your bedroom. It was totally not because you were avoiding someone. 

Totally. 

Okay fine you were. You didn't want to see the guy you're into sucking faces with another person. 

"I still remember," the first verse of the song already made you let out a grunt, the song literally sounded what you felt currently. 

But as much as you wanted to turn it off, it was such a heartfelt song that you just couldn't. So you joined in singing it. 

"Third of December," you softly sang as you continued to write about what interesting thing has happened in the past week. 

"me in your sweater," the lyric made you think about a memory of you and Riven. You just have gotten into a fight with your mother, all the yelling sent your mind into a spiral, you felt like honestly drowning yourself. 

It was just too much. 

You didn't know why but your legs carried you to Riven and Sky's room. Your nose twitches every so often as the cold air hits you. 

You knocked on the door and Riven woke up from his sleep, opening it. It left him slightly baffled to see you with red puffy eyes with tear stains on your cheeks. 

The door creaked open and your heart skipped a beat looking at his shirtless figure, with bed hair. 

God he looked so good. 

He moved to the side to let you in the room, and as you were in, you immediately tackled the boy into a hug. 

You're on your tippy toes, arms wrapped around his neck, your nose inhaling his scent. 

The scent alone made you calmer but when he securely wrapped his hands around your waist, you felt home. 

"You're okay. You're okay." he soothed out as his fingers gently played with your hair. 

Sky was out so it's only you two in their room. 

Your shaking figure calmed down as he moved you guys to the bed. Softly laying you down. 

He noticed how you ran your hands to your arms, trying to get a sense of heat in the chilly atmosphere. So he went to grab his sweater from the closet and hand it to you. 

You look up at him confused, "What's this for?" you asked. 

"You looked like you were cold." he said, shrugging his shoulders and nudging his sweater closer to you. 

"Thanks." you smiled and didn't take down the offer as you quickly wore it. The familiar scent of him filled your nostrils as you sighed in relief, feeling the warmth enveloping you. 

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked softly, sitting down beside you on his bed — not wanting to break you more in your already fragile state. 

You were too tired to think as you shook your head. "No." 

"Alright, you can stay here tonight if you'd like." he nervously offered. As close as you guys are, you didn't actually go past the 'cuddling' stage. 

You felt your heartbeat picked up, as you said, "Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother-" 

"Yeah I'm sure." he answered quickly, ending your rambling. 

You let out a soft 'okay' as you laid back onto his bed. The softness of the mattress invites your sleepiness. 

Your body curled up in a ball as you rested on your left side. The bed dipped down indicating Riven moved to lay beside you.

It was awkward for a minute, Riven wanting nothing more than to just hold you close to him, but he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. So he just laid there staring up at the ceiling.

You were already half asleep as you moved to your other side and curled up with him. 

He froze for a second, a lot of thoughts cursing through his head. It was almost like you could feel his stiff figure as you snuggled more into him, arms went to his stomach, your head on his chest.

A loop-sided grin made its way to Riven's face as he relaxed his body, his hand moved to your back drawing circles and having the best sleep in his life.

As the memory faded away, the song already is at it's chorus, "but I watch your eyes as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes,"

You were so into the song you didn't even realise your bedroom door was open, there stood Riven staring at you in awe.

The boy has never heard you sing before and it blew him away.

"brighter than the blue sky, she's got you mesmerised, while I die," you softly continued as little pricks of tears came on the edge of your eyes.

While you were at your table, Riven moved from his spot and moved to your bed as it creaked, immediately stopping you from singing more.

You jumped up from your spot and was met with Riven staring adoringly at you. 

"Do you not know what knocking is?!" you shrieked at him. Mad that he scared you like that and because he caught you singing a song when you were thinking of him.

Riven ignored your little outburst as he said, "Why didn't you tell me you can sing?" with a small smirk on his face.

You sighed, as you answered his question with a question. "What are you doing here?" the edge to your voice was almost unrecognisable but Riven picked that up first thing.

His smile faltered, but he shrugged his shoulders acting like he didn't care. "The party got boring." in all honesty he just missed you, but he wouldn't tell you that. 

You clenched your jaw, the second result. Again. "Well, where's Beatrix? Thought she was keeping you company." the tone of your voice dipped with such venom. 

From snapping more, you moved around your room picking up clothes that were on the floor to distract yourself.

Riv looked at you, distraught. What did he do? He thought. 

He too moved from his spot and went to the table, noticing the book you once held. 

You were too angry and pissed to notice him flicking some of the pages. 

First it was all about the classes, the colour of the sky, the teacher being annoying. 

But one sentence got his eye, it was his name. 

okay maybe i do have a teeny weensy crush on riven but that's just it. 

it's how it's always been, and nothing is going to change that. 

oh my god why am i writing like i'm a̶c̶u̶a̶t̶l̶y actually talking to you. 

shit i'm late for class, bye love u. 

Riven's eyes widened as his mouth gaped wide open. 

The silence disturbed you as you looked back at him, noticing his shocked face, looking into your journal. 

The clothes you once held all fell to the floor as you rushed to your table snatching the book away. 

"What is wrong with you?!" you finally snapped. The rage and embarrassment bubbling inside you. 

"Is it true?" he softly asked, meeting your eyes. You looked away immediately to be ashamed that he found out this way. 

"It doesn't matter. You should go." you bitterly spat out, shoving your journal into the edge of the table where no one would think to look for it. 

Riven scoffed, "Yeah, it does." he said, moving to stand in front of you. 

You hesitantly met his eyes, "No it doesn't." you said to him firmly, almost threatening him to not talk about it any further. 

But we all know how stubborn Riven is, he's not going to back down for his life. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked harshly. 

"And what? For you to just leave me? What would happen? What would happen differently, Riv? Tell me." your voice went louder as the sentence went, your head held highly in front of him. 

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, you didn't even realise you took a step forward. Your chests are almost touching each other. 

Your breathing was heavy because all the pent up feelings you have for the boy in front of you coming out like a tidal wave. 

The tension was too much for Riven as cupped your face in his hands and connected his lips with yours. 

You sharply took an intake of breath, the kiss sent you speechless. But he pulled away before you could even respond. 

"That would happen." he breathed out, head fuzzy from the kiss. You don't know how much he has dreamt about kissing you. 

"Oh." you stupidly let out, not comprehending the situation at hand. 

Riven chuckled as his hands went down wrapping them around your waist. 

"Wait, wait what about Beatrix?" you asked, not wanting to be solved as the second choice, again. 

"Nothing." he said, staring at you with that look. 

"Nothing?" you questioned, raising your eyebrows. 

He nodded, "Yeah, nothing. You're my first choice, always." a smile made its way to his lips, loving the feeling of you in his hands. 

You grinned and your lips sealed once again. Your hands rest on his chest, him bringing you closer by your waist. 

I wish I were heather.

reblog for a kiss <3

[spiderism]

Miguel’s conducting a census on the spider-verse when he lands himself on 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇-𝟐𝟏𝟑𝟕 – has no prior information since this is his initial visit, but on first glance recognizes that this is Nueva York; that usually means that the local superhero is Miguel O’Hara, or at least another variant of him. Only he finds out that here, it’s actually someone named Web-Shot, a souped-up version of his own late wife.

"Cariño." It was easier to say before – when everything was right, when his entire world hadn't collapsed in on itself. Now, the word feels strange. His brain reacts as if no time's passed at all; it takes effort for his mouth to form around each of the vowels and the consonants, though – like a rusted cog forced into service after being made stiff from years of disuse. 

And while you may walk and talk like her, you’re not. He tells himself not to be fooled by the way your face lights up when you see him, by the way your laughter fills the space between the two of you, and by the way you still tell jokes at his expense. 

But then you take the few steps necessary to close the distance to get to him, wrap your arms around his frame like he’s just come home after a long day of being out. It’s all too familiar – your body folding into his, how well the pieces fit together, the softness that he remembers so well; it’s every single inch of his wife that had been catalogued and filed away in the back of his mind for safekeeping – dust-ridden archives that he’d never thought he’d dig up again. You’re a memory in the flesh. 

“Web-Shot, because—”

“You shoot webs. That’s cute,” he says in a dry tone. 

“Alright, then. Let’s hear yours. You got something better?”

“Spider-man. It’s simple. Clean. Rolls off the tongue.”

“Wow, original. Was ‘Daddy Long Legs’ already taken?”

“Oh, you’ve got jokes. I see your sense of humor is consistent.”

“It’s why you fell for me, isn’t it?”

“Among other things,” he murmurs. “Pain in my ass—”

He asks where your Miguel is, needs to know if the two of you are together, but finds out that he died three months ago – fell from a clocktower during a bad fight he wasn’t supposed to be at, snapped his neck clean in half from the tension when you tried to catch him with your webbing and he ricocheted back up from the concrete like a damn bungee cord. The ring was in his pocket; he was supposed to propose that night before everything went to shit. So your time ended with him fast, early. Before you even really got to start your lives together. 

And this other Miguel, the one who shows up in your universe alive (sure) and well (debatable), gives you some insight to his world. His wife was a romantic – an idealist, a dreamer. He’s always been pragmatic – a man of science, an engineer, doing everything within his realm of possibility to make her visions come true. It’s been a long time since he talked about his history and his family: how he proposed, where they had the wedding, his daughter – the way everything was good and perfect until it wasn’t. 

After spending the night with you on the Empire State Building, he realizes how much you’re like his wife. It hits him hard, brings up too many emotions to the surface that he’d been tamping down all these years.

Nothing about any of this is fair. And it’s sad, heartbreaking. Especially—

“I didn’t get to grow old with you.”

“We could’ve had a lifetime together and it still wouldn’t have been enough. You get that, right?”

You convince him to stay. Try to, at least. He can be your Miguel, and it would all be so easy. He can take his retired wedding ring off the chain around his neck and slip it on where it belongs. 

But it’s not possible. He tells you that much – what can happen, the repercussions that ripple out and affect the multiverse web. Because he’s already attempted that – wouldn’t have given up without trying to get you back.

A part of him wants you to say it one last time. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Instead, he gets:

“Every version of me loves every version of you. And even though I haven’t gotten to see it for myself, I know that there’s no universe where that isn’t true.”

Before he leaves, you ask if he thinks there’s any chance the two of you are allowed to be happy, allowed to live normal lives in all of the places he’s seen. 

He tells you that he has: breakfast on the balcony, slow Sunday mornings, and weekend fútbol tourneys with your daughter. This story ends on a good note, but he doesn’t mention that it only exists inside his head.

[guess-my-next-obsession]

The Bakesale

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader (Elementary-verse)

rating: E (18+ ONLY, oral (f rec), unprotected piv, slight dirty talk, these two being in looooooooove)

wc: 2.1k

a/n: this is based on an anon request i got ages ago but can no longer find :( so i hope this finds you, anon!! 🫶🏼 also, for context, this drabble takes place between chapter six and seven :)

series masterlist | joel masterlist

“Sorry ‘bout this,” Joel apologized as he carried grocery bags filled with baking supplies into your kitchen. “Our oven’s been actin’ finicky, and I’m not sure what the hell I’m doin’—“

“You’re fine, Joel,” you said, placing a hand on his arm as he stood beside you at your kitchen island.

Things were still new between the two of you, both of you still frantic to impress the other, or at the very least not inconvenience them, but it truly was no inconvenience for Joel to come over and use your oven and advice, especially when it was for his daughter’s soccer team’s bake-sale.

“Still,” he said. “Thanks, baby.”

You felt a girlish smirk growing in your face at his casual use of the endearment, your ears not yet accustomed to hearing such a pretty thing.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, still smiling that bashful smile as you started to unpack the grocery bags. “So what are we making?”

“Sarah got assigned brownies,” he said. “Got my mom’s recipe.”

You continued unpacking the supplies while he pulled a piece of scrap paper with a scribbled list and instructions on it.

“You can read that?” you teased, laughing at your own question.

“Yes,” he replied, dry and unimpressed. “You got a problem with my handwriting?”

“If you were my student, I would,” you said, smirking at the smile that was growing on his face. “But seeing as you’re not, I guess it’s fine.”

“I can read it, that’s all that matters,” he replied, his tone thick with attitude. You laughed and nodded in agreement, reaching your hand out to rub his back in soothing circles.

“Alright, let’s get started?” you asked, turning your head to look up at him as you stood beside him, finding him already staring. “On second thought, I don’t remember you giving me a proper greeting when you walked in.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, his voice low as his eyes flickered to your lips. “Not too late?”

You smiled as you pulled him down to your lips, letting your hands rest on the side of his neck and jaw, relishing in the scratch of his beard against your fingertips. Joel’s arms were wrapped tight around your waist, hugging you close as he kissed you like a man returning to his wife after being lost at sea.

You could feel his love deep into your bones, right down into the marrow, and could feel the tenderness of his heart softening your own with each passing second here in his arms. You hoped this never faded, that the picture in your mind of the two of you sitting on some porch swing, old and grey, watching your children’s children playing in the yard would actually become reality.

“Mm,” he hummed, pecking your lips once more for good measure before pulling away. “I gotta stop before I get carried away.”

“I might like you getting carried away,” you said, giving him a mischievous smile. Joel chuckled and wiped his hand over his face before shaking his head.

“No, we gotta stay focused,” he managed through a sigh. “I only got until four until Sarah’s supposed to be picked up from Jessie’s.”

“Well, maybe if we start now, we’ll have some time left over for—“

“Alright, so I think we’re supposed to preheat the oven.”

The brownies were made and cooling on the counter with an hour to spare, giving you and Joel the perfect chance for some fun while you waited for four o’clock to roll around. Both sets of clothes were shed in a trail leading to your bedroom, giggles echoing off the walls as Joel practically threw your naked form onto the mattress with a grin.

“Made it to the bed this time,” he said, crawling onto the bed to join you.

“I would’ve let you fuck me on the kitchen floor,” you said, lightly scratching his scalp at the nape of his neck.

“Is that right?” He grinned, nudging your cheek with his lips as he kissed his way down to your pulse.

“Mmhm,” you hummed. Your smile faded as his lips trailed down to your sensitive peaks, your fingers in his hair clenching to hold him there. Joel returned your eagerness with a groan before pressing his hips into yours to let you feel his need for you. “Shit, baby.”

“You want it?” he asked, lifting his head up to meet your eyes. You nodded at him eagerly, the sight of his hair tousled from your hands, his eyes blackened with desire, his cheeks pink from excitement. “Can I taste you first, baby? All this bakin’ has me starvin’ for somethin’ sweet.”

“Fuck,” you sighed, letting your head fall back against the pillows as he kissed his way down your stomach, the sight too much for you to take. “Yes…please.”

“Please, what, baby?” he drawled, gripping the back of your thighs to press them up towards the mattress.

“Please taste me,” you moaned, meeting his dark eyes again. Joel smiled and nodded at you before bringing a finger up to your swollen bud, circling it a few times just to watch your eyebrows lace together before lowering it down to your entrance to gather your slick for a taste.

“Goddamn, you’re sweet,” he groaned, sucking his finger clean before lowering his mouth to your clit, kissing it softly.

Your head fell back against the pillow as his kisses turned into sucks that turned into beautiful swirls of his tongue, all of it building you up slowly and gently, like he had all the time in the world.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” you moaned, tightening your grasp on his hair when he found the perfect rhythm. “Fuck, don’t stop. Please—just like that.”

“I got ya,” he mumbled against you in between licks.

“Joel—“

“Come on,” he urged.

“Fingers,” you demanded. Joel lifted two thick fingers to your clit, swirling over it to gather some slick on them before sliding them down to your cunt and pressing in slowly. When he started to curl upwards while he continued working you with his mouth, you felt electricity shoot down your limbs before a white-hot, blinding pleasure washed over you. “S-shit!”

“There you go,” he cooed, sitting back to watch as his fingers drew your orgasm out until you couldn’t take it anymore and reached for his wrist.

“Come here,” you begged, pulling at his arm. Joel crawled back up to hover over your still-shaking form, his hand resting over the side of your face, warming you up like only he could. “I’d say you could do that for a living, but I’m not sure I want to share.”

“That good, huh?” he asked, clearly proud of his work.

“You know what’s even better?” You quirked a brow at him as you reached between your bodies to wrap your hand around his girth, gliding it over your sensitive bud and down to your entrance. Joel looked pained as he pressed into your heat slowly, holding your eye contact the entire time.

“Fuck,” he sighed when he bottomed out inside you. “So goddamn good.”

Your eyes rolled back as he drew himself out only to push back inside punishingly slow, allowing you to feel every single inch of him. Joel seemed just as wrecked by the pleasure as you, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder as he picked up his pace just the slightest.

“God, baby,” he groaned as your nails scratched down his back to rest on his hips, pulling him even closer. “Ain’t gonna last.”

“I wanna feel it,” you whispered into his ear, earning another strangled moan and a lovebite on your shoulder. “Let me feel you cum inside me, baby.”

“Jesus.” He sat back on his heels and positioned your legs to rest over his shoulders before he leaned forward again to pound into you deeper than he was before. You wanted to sob at the accuracy of each of his thrusts against that spot inside, but couldn’t manage a sound with the way he had you folded in half beneath him. Your hands clawed at the sheets for purchase as his thrusts grew brutal, each one bringing you nearer and nearer to your end. “Come on, baby. Gimme one more and I’ll let you feel it.”

“Fuck—“ You could feel yourself slipping into euphoria again, your mind going hazy as every good nerve inside you lit up. “Joel, fuck.”

“That’s it,” he praised, smiling down at you, though you missed it with the way your eyes were screwed shut. “You ready for me, baby?”

“Please,” you begged.

“Fuck,” Joel’s hips slowed to a stop, burying his entire length inside of you as he reached his high with a wrecked moan. Collapsing onto your chest, you felt your heartbeats race together as you both came down from the heights of your bliss in comfortable silence.

“Mm,” you hummed, turning your head to the nightstand to look at the clock. “And with twenty minutes to spare.”

Joel chuckled and lifted his cheek off your sternum, kissing it sweetly before sitting upright. You smiled widely at the state of him in all his wrecked glory as he wiped his brow and caught his breath.

“You and Sarah wanna come over for dinner tonight?” you asked, drawing his eyes to yours.

“I gotta ask first, but I think that sounds nice,” he said, grinning as his eyes seemed to admire your own disheveled appearance. “God, you look good like this.”

“Because I’m naked?” you asked with a teasing tone.

“That’s a part of it, I’m sure,” he chuckled. “But I just like seein’ you like this. You look like one of those Renaissance paintin’s or somethin’.”

“A painting?” you laughed. “Am I a sexy painting at least?”

“The sexiest,” he replied. “Now’s your turn to say somethin’ sweet to me.”

“Oh, is that how this works?” Joel nodded like a child. You smirked at him as your eyes trailed down his sweaty neck, the neck you daydreamed about kissing every single day since you met him, to his broad, lightly freckled, golden chest with just the tiniest bit of hair on it. His stomach had you licking your lips, the muscle behind the softness of his tummy making an appearance after his show of athleticism. When you reached the patch of hair above his length that was still buried inside of you, you shook your head and tutted at him.

“Joel, you are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen,” you said, lifting your eyes back up to meet his. “You’re going to think I’m joking, but after you…I really think I’m ruined for all men.”

Joel laughed, tipping his head back before meeting your eyes again, his hand smoothing your and down your thigh.

“Well, I plan on keepin’ you all to myself, so I don’t think you gotta worry ‘bout any other men.”

“Is that right?” you asked, smirking as you accepted his body on top of yours again, your arms wrapping around his shoulders to hug him tight. “Glad we got that settled.”

The day of the bake sale arrived, and since Sarah had invited you to her game that went on simultaneously, you found yourself standing beside Joel and playing salesman at his plastic table set-up.

“Your mom’s recipe is popular,” you noted as you grabbed another empty pan from the table, setting it on the cooler filled with soda and water (and a beer or two hidden at the bottom) that Tommy brought.

“You haven’t gotten a piece?” he asked, sounding almost appalled. Reached for the last remaining tray full of brownies, he picked one up and handed it to you. “Here.”

“No,” you chuckled. “I don’t have any cash on me.”

He tilted his head and gave you a flat, unimpressed look. “You did all the damn bakin’, you deserve a piece.”

You finally accepted the brownie from his fingers and unwrapped it before ripping the corner off and taking a bite. Joel’s thumb lifted to the corner of your bottom lip, wiping a bit of chocolate off and sucking his finger clean with a wink.

“How was it?” he asked, smirking cheekily at you as you tried to play off your fluster. With a smirk of your own, you tore off another piece and lifted it to his mouth.

“I can confidently say…it’s the best I ever had.”

•

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•

•

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[jung-shook-iieee]

Hot Wheels | KNJ

➳Pairings: idol Namjoon x reader (f)

➳ rating: M ( obviously minors dni!)

➳ genre: idol verse, relationship au.

➳ warnings: namjoon is filthy hot here, super angry dom, sexy namjoon, use of degrading words, humiliation, teasing, y/n was literally walking on thin ice, until joonie breaks it, super meany joon, mmhh y/n playing with herself ( does that count as masturbation? Becoz joonie didn't let her finish?) Risky, joon was live y'all, Armies being very suspicious lol, joon flashes his bulge * mistakenly, joon cursing on live??????? and super dirty talking. ( I dunno what to add more lmao.)

➳ summary: teasing namjoon when he goes live could never get you in serious trouble, right?

➳ word count: 1.6k

➳ a/n: I actually..... Can someone just tell me what in the world do i have to do to get fucked by joon? I mean seriously... I can not take this anymore. I'm going FERAL for him. Xxxxxxxxxxxx

➳ a/n2: I live for mean joonie, I just can not stop myself from writing this. And I have no shame. No regrets. Do reblog tho, if you like it. Feedbacks are always welcomed. &lt;333

" Don't you dare baby, stay like this kay? Don't make this hard for both of us. I'll be quick. " Namjoon wrapped his muscular and veiny hand around your neck to keep you still. You've been a very bad, bad girl according to him, but you knew what you were doing.

It will easily piss Namjoon off, But you can't help it, can you?  you love to see when he struggled.......Struggled because of you, it was rare tho. It's always the other way around, you struggling for him and him being a sadist enjoyed your misery every single time.

So even if he punished you afterwards, you will willingly take your punishments. You totally loved the messier and clumsier side of him, usually Kim Namjoon carried himself as a wolf. Strong, powerful, and dominant but behind those cameras and people he's the clumsiest person you've ever seen.

Tease him about his mistakes and he will not think twice before railing you against the nearest wall so you could remember your place.

He loves you of course he does, but he loves you even more when you cry for him, from the pleasures he gives you. When you beg, squirm and cum for him.

So when he told you he is going live for armies and asked you to behave you don't why but your inner bitch told you other wise.

When he was setting up the things for his live , you simply stood up and walked towards the cupboard, the lower section was filled with different toys. You took out a simple black mini rabbit vibrator.

Namjoon didn't looked at you he was busy in his live by now. You walked back, discarded your clothes and threw your bra at his feet, which made him look at you.

He was speechless, he clearly told you to not make any sounds and here you were throwing your bra at him. Irony. He looked back at the tab and ignored your presence completely.

You started playing with yourself. You massaged your breast slowly, taking all the time in the world making yourself ready to play with, fondling your perky breast, twisting and pinching your soft nipples. You sensually snaked your hands on your stomach then slowly you reached at your lower part.

You were a dripping mess, so wet just by the mere thought of seducing Namjoon while he was on air, interacting with millions of armies.

Namjoon could see what you were doing, it was driving him crazy. He loved when you act as a brat, a bold person in front of him. Because after that he could punishment you all like he wants.

You turned around, ass in air and pussy all spread out for him to watch. The mini vibrator caused the shaking of your legs, namjoon sweared at the sight. You looked so tempting, so inviting like a sex goddess indeed.

He forced himself to tear his graze from you and focus on the live, sure by now all people would be curious and he knew that.

He just couldn't help himself but grab his aching bulge between his legs. You really made his cock rock hard, he was struggling keeping his posture straight.

He drank water frequently, paused while giving answers and he just sweared on live. What else can he do to get more troubles?

" Is someone with you oppa? " Namjoon repeated a comment and narrowed his eyes then replied, " Ohh aniyo... It's just the... Curtains. Haha. They keep disturbing me. " He struggled answering their question, which only made your lips twitch upward slightly and you turned around and pulled out the toy which was deep inside you.

You stood up and took out a hitachi wand from your cupboard. Namjoon bought it for you as a gift. You still remember the first time he used that thing on you, the orgasms from this thing were  really strong and powerful.

You switched on the toy and placed the settings at one.

The vibrations were killing you, if you continued longer you didn't know if you would be able to keep your moans suppressed. You muffled your moans by placing your small hand above your mouth.

It was really tough for Namjoon to keep his sanity intact. The mere sight of you was driving him crazy, your legs were wide spread, your boobs looked so soft, a toy was stimulating your throbbing clit , you were so wet he could easily see your slick all over your thighs and bedsheet.

You mouthed PLEASE asking him to fuck you, Namjoon forcefully dragged his eyes from you to the tab he pretended like he's interested in the live but no he wasn't. All of his attention was on you now, you did got his attention.

It was getting impossible for him to remain collected so he asked, " Just a second people I'll be back, I need to use restroom hehe. I'll be quick. " And he muted his live, he forgot that the people might see his aching big buldge but he do not give two fucks about that now.

When he marched towards you, to say you were scared will be a understatement. His jaw was clenched and he fisted his hands. You quickly closed your legs and tried to sit up but he dragged you up by your neck, " What do you think you're doing huh?" That voice. That fucking voice sent chills down your spine, you Whimpered from the way he was squeezing your neck tight, cutting the supply of air.

" Do you FUCKING THINK this shit is FUNNY huh?? " He whispered yelled and slammed your head against the headboard and slapped your wet cunt, throwing the expensive wand on floor, making you whimper.

" Don't... Don't fucking close your legs on me now baby, you were spreading your legs like a whore just a minute ago. " He whispered in your ear, his voice could easily make you cum let his hands and dick alone.

" M'sorr-yyyy joon" You gasped sang, barely audible but he heard you, " Now, now, now don't say that okay? I know your not FUCKING SORRY." You but your lower lips knowingly, you knew this was coming, you asked for it. Actually no you begged for it so you can do nothing but to take his punishments like a big girl.

He stuffed his big and thick fingers inside your little cunt making you arch your back and he rammed his fingers so fast and deep inside you making you out of breath.

He pulled away after a minute or two, he needs to get back to the live and may be end it properly. You quickly held his hands and dragged his fingers on your needy cunt for more but he pulled away his hands " Don't you dare baby, stay like this kay? Don't make this hard for both of us. I'll be quick. " Namjoon wrapped his muscular and veiny hand around your neck to keep you still. You only nodded and waited for him.

You obeyed him because you don't want to piss him any more, you knew after this he would be leaving you with a numb and sore pussy anyway.

He sucked his fingers clean, closed his eyes tasting your essence. He growled, you tasted so good he just couldn't wait. You immediately shut your legs close feeling more wet at his lewd action.

He adjusted his crotch and went back on his chair. He unmuted the live and again started answering their questions and laughing with them.

They did asked questions because they were suspicious but he made excuses and cleared there doubts. After 5-10 mins he bid goodbye and turned off the tab.

He closed his eyes, and sighed. You could see how tense he was, the fear of getting caught by army was exciting but scary also. It could've lead him to some serious trouble.

He opened his eyes and looked at you, silently. His breath was slow, his dragon eyes covered in lust and anger. He looked so intimidating to you. You were scared, so scared. Neither you nor he was speaking anything but his gaze was sending you over the edge. You stared at your legs, you just couldn't look at him in his eyes.

Your breath hitched when he stood up and started taking slow steps towards you, you didn't dared to raise your eyes but you could feel him standing next to you.

He grabbed your jaw harshly making you whimper, " Explain. " He demanded. You couldn't speak the words out from your mouth. His grip was becoming harsher.

" Pl-easeee-" , " Please what?? Huh? Did I fucking stuttered baby? Or did I gave you the permission to touch yourself? Or to touch the toys? " He questioned but you were in a deep haze from the pain and pleasure that you couldn't make yourself to speak.

" You're just a dumb whore right? You can't speak unless I force you? " He was speaking with so much anger and authority that even his degradation was sending direct waves of pleasure to your core.

He took off his sweatshirt and his chest looked so good, so tempting . Your palms were itching to  touch him you slowly raised your hands towards him but he gripped it harshly making you groan in displeasure," After the stunt you've pulled y/n do you think I'm letting you touch me.?" The tone of his voice was cold, like a warning to you, bet any other person would run away but you, you begged him to treat you this way.

he stood beside you with his naked broad chest. The pecs really looked yummy tho, namjoon's muscles only got thicker after he started doing gym.

He climbed up in the bed, stood on his knees and spoke in your ears, " You really put me in a bad position today baby, now I'll exactly give you what you've been craving for. "

Well, you couldn't deny him can you!? You just gotta take what he gives.

...........................................................................................................

Masterlist.

@yellabella77 @screamertannie @sweetwolfcupcake @bri-mal @hoseokteardrop @kooookie @favfanfictsbts @ciennnthia @yopjm @sunny-favs @heyyymin

[kekisu]

a very popular headcanon people have (i Think its popular. at least a lot of my twitter mutuals agreed with me a while back) is that joker comes from inaba, and if youve played p4 you know that theres literally nothing to do there

so a big headcanon that i used to be obsessed with is that he would spend a lot of his days skateboarding or biking around listening to music and exploring old dirt roads.. and he ended up getting a special interest in bugs and reptiles because hed come across so many during his little solo adventures. hes also very well versed in fishing its not a fixation or anything but just something hes pretty good at

this is why i tend to draw joker like some sort of skater boy. i think hes always stood out a lot in this small town even before the false assault charge, like he wasnt disliked or bullied but he just didnt really fit in. and this didnt bother him. i think he only realized how boring his life was when he became a phantom thief and got all these new friends in this new big city that understood him despite the circumstances that led him here. like man i really used to live like that and see nothing wrong with it? i didnt yearn for more?

it makes it even more painful when he has to leave and they naturally drift apart. because they all have dreams and ambitions, and the best years of their lives are waiting for them around the corner. but joker is back in this small town where theres nothing to do but hang out in some food court or poke around in the woods. i imagine this newfound loneliness is really hard on him, not to mention the guilt for feeling like hes somehow to blame for. well, whatever happened with goro

to me personally i think goro lived. i think he mustered up the perseverance to bite and claw his way out of shidos palace after seeing that even someone like him has a chance at being loved, he just didnt really remember this in marukis reality because it was all a blur. so both goro and joker were completely clueless as to what his fate would be if they went back to their true reality, which is what was so scary. the uncertainty. he could very well be dead but how could they know for sure? i just dont like the thought of him dying before he could truly live, even though i understand the tragedy of it can be poetic, i just cant stand for him going out like that because i relate a lot to his struggles. and i think it would go against the overall positive message of p5r. sure not everybody gets to have a second chance or a happy ending, but. man. anyways

joker fully believes goro is dead though. he wouldnt be crazy to assume this considering how they parted ways in shidos palace. but it eats away at him and maybe he really does go crazy. maybe his life feels like its stuck in time and while his old friends are out chasing their dreams, hes stuck. broken and shattered over feeling like he couldve done something to save him, knowing jokers savior/martyr complex

im running out of steam and i didnt mean to ramble on about my post-p5r headcanons but, to wrap it up: goro is in rehab somewhere and has a service dog to help with his dissociation and mood swings. and a couple other stuff. he feels like if he walks back into jokers life itll mess something up like joker will just break down or something. so he keeps his distance until they cross paths again. im just very obsessed with the idea of goro getting his life together vs joker wanting so badly to chase that high of phantom thievery again but failing and being actually so depressed

man morgana must be exhausted

[ghostlythunderbird]

Can we get some more Omega-Verse HC with König and his mate?

maybe how they first met? Idk, I just really crave some more omega verse stuff with him.

love your work! <3

Omegaverse ~ König and how he met his mate

OMG wow my first ever ask! Ngl this has inspired me to write one for each of the boys, but Anon this one is for you! Hope you and everyone enjoy and once again a special thanks to @l-lend and @kelpiesummer for throwing ideas at me XD.

Now both your and Konig’s first meeting is the farthest thing from perfect, and remember when I said you literally barged into his life? I was being serious.

Now I’m just gonna say that you're secretly an Omega, but in order to get higher paying and government related jobs (cause that’s where the money is at) you cannot be anything less than a Beta. To safeguard your identity you have both high end scent patches and pill suppressants.

And after making sure no one could tell what your true second gender was, you applied to become a part of a Rut Retrieval Team. Your assigned member? The Austrian Apex known as König. But what you didn’t know about this supposedly dangerous second gender, was that even the least sensitive apex could still pick up on what you were even with patches and suppressants.

Now your team are the only people who can handle him after he’s coming down after a rut, primarily because many think he would be extremely dangerous. So after being dispatched somewhere in Spain, your team finally finds him while he’s still both coming off his rut and the excessive amounts of adrenaline. He was showing signs that he didn’t really want the team there but made no moves to act.

But when someone reached for him, he grabbed the much smaller beta male and practically threw him before attempting to pummel the poor guy. And in order to protect your teammate, you barrel into the apex and attempt to wrap your arms around his neck to make him stop. One main way to calm down an apex would be with a heavily scented pad that had an omegas heat scent doused into it. But before you could apply it, he grabbed your wrist and pressed his nose to your covered scent gland instead before quickly letting go.

The scent that washed over him was much stronger than could have ever been on the cloth, but once he realized there was a scent patch there he dropped your wrist like it practically burned him. You both didn’t move after that but your gazes were locked almost like a trance.

Thankfully your team didn’t catch this interaction between the two of you, as they were more focused on the beta on the ground. But once they see how he’s decently calm, they begin moving him to evac to get him back to the KorTac base. Your team didn’t desire to be anywhere near him after his earlier display so you end up being voluntold to secure him while your team is on security outside the helicopter.

König hadn’t said anything during the duration of his retrieval, he was completely silent but all he did was just keep a watchful gaze as you strapped him in. His gaze wasn’t broken until you had brought that dreaded muzzle into his view, he zeroed in on it and without a single thought he had asked “Your an Omega aren’t you?”. To König it was more of a shot in the dark, and wasn't fully expecting you to answer him.

It wasn’t until he had looked up and froze, your eyes were wide from under your mask; the fear was evident. Your grip on the muzzle tightened and the instinctive urge to get away from him was starting to take over. But before you could fully take a step back he had moved, yanking the muzzle from your grasp and had tightened it before you could blink. He had practically shrunk in on himself and made no move to look at you, even though it had no change on his height or mass for someone of his massive size. The poor guy didn’t want to scare you, and make him seem like the monster so many make him out to be.

It was odd to say the least. You had been told that Apexes were demanding and took whatever they wanted whenever. But this odd apex has only become more interesting to you in just a short amount of time. It wasn’t until he had looked in your direction and muttered a “Don’t worry your secret's safe with me, Ich verspreche es dir~.” That you had decided to try and get to know this enigma of a man much better. And you definitely never looked back after that chance encounter.

Translation : “Ich verspreche es dir” - I promise you (sorry if this is wrong, I’m using google translate because I’m an uneducated American XD)

Taglist: @l-lend, @kelpiesummer, @fatedeniedhope, @grizzersmamma

[hailey-murdock]

Baby

Paring: Matt Murdock x Fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, pregnancy, smut, implied smut, insecure reader

Summary: You have a great surprise for Matt on Father's day

Other characters: Wilson Fisk, Karen Page

WC: 1.6K

AN: I felt like this Matt fluff was needed after writing so much angst 😭😭

(Reblogs, comment and likes are appreciated)

Three weeks ago.

You remember waking up feeling sick. Matt had already left for work, he had an important meeting with a new client that morning. You were feeling nauseous, and dizzy. Quickly running to the bathroom you threw up.

Last night wasn't any different, you had cooked a special dinner for you and Matt after he won a big case with the help of Foggy. None of the ingredients were bad. After that you both had dessert, which was cake that led the two of you wrapped around each other's body naked in the bedroom.

Bedroom. Love making. Immediately the dots connected. About 2 weeks ago, Matt made love to you. It wasn't a rough fuck as usual, not that you didn't enjoy that. But that day was different, you had been feeling quite insecure about your body. Everyone has their days but for you it was the worst. And Matt made sure to prove to you with not only words but with actions as well, how much he loved your body.

He treated you like a goddess. Matt was on his knees worshiping your body. Your body was like an altar, where he would beg to make you feel euphoria. Matt felt like being with you feels like a prayer, like a plea for hope to a higher power. Best done with his head bowed, eyes closed, and knees bent. You are a verse that Matt has memorized. You are his psalm, except without distinction between sacred and sacrilegious. And though this looks like prayer, his devotion isn't sure which heavenly being it belongs to. Maybe you? You would find out as he speaks of completion, Matt's mouth full of your bittersweet.

Matt wanted to feel your heartbeat while you felt his. He needed to make you cry out of pleasure. Make you feel what you have never felt. The desire of needing to hear you scream his name out loud became too much for Matt. God, how he loved when you had begged him not to stop. Drops of beauty from the shyness of your lips: luminescence of the halo that Matt saw. Flows of nectar of desire with your heartbeat: incandescence of the flower that he kisses. Pour honey of longing on your breasts: lustful essence of the body he holds.

Matt had came inside of you without any protection. You were pregnant. A small human being was starting to grow inside your womb. In a matter of seconds, a million thoughts ran through your head. What if Matt didn't want this? What if Matt abandoned you? It was getting overwhelming and it was like you forgot how to breathe. After a walk to try to calm your nerves, you needed to tell Matt and you had the greatest idea on how to do that.

Now.

It was finally Father's Day, and you couldn't wait to surprise Matt with your pregnancy news. You had been planning this for weeks, ever since the positive line appeared on your pregnancy test. You had looked for the perfect gift, something that would both catch Matt off guard and deliver the news in an endearing way.

Finally, you settled on a small, wrapped box, with a note attached that simply said, "For the best father in the world", in braille. You decide to make breakfast that morning. The smell of coffee and pancakes filled up Matt's nostrils and woke him up. Smiling, he walked up to you while you were setting up the table. Matt wrapped his arms around you as he gave you a kiss on your cheek.

"Good morning sweetheart".

You turned around and put your arms around Matt's neck and kissed him. "Good morning Matty. Take a seat, I'll get the toppings for us to eat and after I have a surprise for you".

Matt raised his eyebrows. You were never good at hiding things from Matt, but somehow you managed to keep this a secret. "A surprise? And you can't give a small hint sweetheart". Matt said as he kissed your neck trying to make you fall for his trap.

Fucking asshole, you almost fell right into his trap. You regained your poster and pulled away. "Don't think that's gonna get me to tell you what it is Murdock. You may be my hot boyfriend but I won't give in that easily". As you walked to get the toppings for the pancakes you gave Matt a smack on his ass.

"I seriously don't know why you love my ass so much". Matt chuckled as he sat down.

"It's not fair god gave you a bigger ass than what I have hun". You replied back as you sat down next to Matt. The two of you sat down and ate, talking about what you both had planned for the day.

You got more and more excited about the gift. After finishing eating, you and Matt cleaned the table, got the dishes done.

"Okay sit at the couch while I get the surprise".

"Yes ma'am". You couldn't help but smile as you got the one thing you knew that could change your life with Matt. Either for the better or the worse.

As you sat down, you handed Matt the box. "There's a small tag on the top".

Matt ran his fingers over the tag and his heart swelled with love to know that you took your time to get in braille for him. But he was confused at first. "For the best father in the world"?

"Uh sweetheart, are you sure this is the correct gift"? Matt chuckled as he thought maybe this gift was for your dad instead.

"Yes, just open the box".

Matt opened the box and he spotted the positive pregnancy test sitting inside. His face instantly went from confusion to shock, and then finally to joy.

"You're pregnant?" Matt asked, his voice filled with emotion as he felt the test in his hand.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with love for this man. "Yes," you whispered, leaning in to hug him. "We're having a baby."

Matt held you tightly, feeling all the emotions that had been swirling inside of him finally come to the surface. He was going to be a father, something he never thought he could be, and he was going to start a family with someone he truly loved.

But despite the joy, Matt couldn't shake the fear that came with the news. He was a vigilante, fighting to keep the streets of Hell's Kitchen clean and safe, and he couldn't help but fear what his nightly activities could mean for his child.

You were so happy to know Matt wasn't running off or was upset. He was happy but the moment you saw his expressions change your heart broke, was he starting to realize that he didn't want this?

"I'm scared," Matt admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what being a father means, and I'm afraid of what could happen to our child."

You left out a relieved sigh as your overthinking was wrong. You could see the fear on his face, and you knew you had to reassure him. "We'll figure it out together," you said, holding his hand. "And we'll protect our family no matter what."

Matt smiled at you, feeling a sense of peace come over him. He knew that he could trust you, that you could face anything together, and he was ready to start their journey as parents. You sat on the couch, holding hands and smiling at each other, both lost in your own thoughts.

You had been looking forward to this moment for so long, ever since you first met Matt. You had known from the moment you laid eyes on him that he was special, that he was someone you wanted to share your life with. And now, you were going to start a family, something you never thought possible.

Matt was lost in thought as well, trying to imagine what life would be like with a child. He had always been focused on work, on being Daredevil, but now he realized that there was so much more to life than just fighting crime. He had always been motivated by the need to protect others, to keep them safe, but now he had someone he needed to protect more than anyone else: his own child.

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, until suddenly the silence was broken by a knock on the door. It was Karen, come to tell Matt that Fisk was making another move, and they needed to act quickly.

For Matt, the fear that had been lingering in the back of his mind suddenly came to the surface. He knew that he couldn't let anything happen to his child, no matter what it meant for him or for his life as Daredevil. He had a responsibility, a duty to his family, and he knew that he had to protect them no matter what.

Once again you could see the fear on his face, and you knew that you had to be there for him, to support him and to help him understand that he didn't have to face this alone. "We'll face this together," you whispered, taking his hand in yours.

For both of you, the moment felt like a turning point, a moment that would forever change their lives. You two had always been partners, always been a team, and now you were starting a family, ready to face whatever the future held hand in hand. And in the midst of all the chaos and uncertainty, you found comfort in each other's presence, knowing that you were not alone, that you would always have each other.

[jacksdinonuggets]

~Bandages~

Summary: Can Charlie bandage vaggies hand up from When lute stabbed her in the finale and vaggie age regresses?

Requested by Asher bowls of cereal on Ao3

The day had been exhausting. They had fought and defeated heaven in battle. Tons of exorcists verses a bunch of rando’s, the princess of hell, and all of cannibal town who weren’t even trained in combat. It was so tiring that all Vaggie wanted to do was go to sleep but the stabbing pain in her hand made it hard to make her brain sleepy. The hotel was wrecked so she couldn’t even rest. However, Lucifer offered to let them stay at his palace while they rebuilt the hotel. She would be able to fix up her wounds there. Surprisingly, not many wounds were sustained during the battle. Vaggie might’ve gotten the worst since she had a 1 on 1 battle with lute. Her nose and face still hurt from being smacked into a table two times.

As they were walking towards the palace, Vaggie remembered the feeling of the blade against her bones in her hand. It made her want to puke just rethinking about it. Now that the adrenaline was gone, she had to force herself not to cry out in pain. Gold blood leaked out from her glove and onto the ground as they walked.

Charlie’s dad quickly got everyone set up in their rooms so they could rest. Vaggie and Charlie were allowed to share so they got one of the master bedrooms. Vaggie immediately grabbed the first aid kit and tried to open it, but any sudden movement of her hand made her pain ten thousand times worse. She hissed in pain and dropped the kit, taking her glove off. Some fuzz from her glove made its way into her wounds. Charlie overheard and came rushing in.

“You okay?” she had a concerned look on her face that made Vaggie start to slip.

“Oh my god! What happened to your hand?!” Charlie rushed over and grabbed her hand, looking over it. She could see how deep the wound was. The flesh from the inside was easily seen through the golden blood and bits of it were starting to slowly peak up and out of her hand like little worms.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?!” She said in a loud voice that kind of scared Aaggie. She was already teetering between headpsaces, now was not the time for yelling

“I w-was going to tell you-”

“Yeah, just like how you were going to tell me about being an angel and then waited until Adam spoiled it!” she bellowed. She was just really stressed. She had to try hard not to puke when looking at the ripped up flesh sticking out of her lover’s hand.

Vaggies lip quivered before she started bawling.. Charlie realized what she had just said and the tone and immediately took it all back. She also knew that if Vaggie started crying this easily from a little bit of yelling, she was slipping right into her little headspace. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell, I’m just worried,” Charlie put a hand on her back and tried to soothe her. However, Vaggie kept crying. She already had so much on her mind as it is, as well as the pain, the yelling just made it worse.

“Sh, shh, I’m sorry, baby. I’m not mad,” Charlie promised, going over to her and giving her a side hug. She cried and cried and Charlie knew she needed to bandage her wound before it got infected. 

Since she was already crying, she decided to kill two birds with one stone and clean the wound so Vaggie wouldn’t have an intense headache from so much crying. She wailed when Charlie rubbed her hand with the cotton swab that had alcohol on it.

“I know it hurts, but I need to clean it,” She told her. 

By the time the bandage and gauze was wrapped around her hand, she was half asleep. She seemed to fall deeper into headspace too.

“Wan Bucky ‘nd paci,” she mumbled when Charlie was finished. Charlie didn;t have the heart to tell her that Bucky was… well gone. He was either blasted from existence due to Adam’s ray of disobeying the law of conservation of matter, or buried in rubble.

So Charlie pulled out her phone and quickly texted her dad.

<”Random question, can you summon a replica of Vaggie stuffed goat and purple pacifier? She’s regressed and asking for them”

Luckily, two moments later, Lucifer barged into the room, carrying three rubber ducks, an exact replica of Bucky, and a pacifier inside of a plastic case in his hands. He set them on the bed and walked into the bathroom. He saw Vaggie trying to curl up on the bathroom tile while Charlie was waiting for a text back. She turned around and saw him standing there.

“Oh, you’re here! Did you get the stuff?” she asked.

“Yup! Take good care of her,” he patted her shoulder before disappearing in his puff of smoke. He could’ve just used the door but it was more aesthetically pleasing to just disappear.

She realized how sweaty and kind of smelly Vaggie was, indicating that she hadn’t showered yet. Charlie showered right when they got there which was why she wasn’t all that smelly.

“You need a bath. I think there’s some bubbles,” Vaggie looked up happily at the mention of a bubble bath. She was still extremely tired but wanted to feel clean.

Charlie grabbed the rubber ducks from the bed and towel and began to fill the tub. After she made sure it was the right temperature and put the bubbles in, she helped undress Vaggie and put her in the tub. Luckily, she was very cooperative and didn’t even splash. She just played silently with the duckies and bubbles while Charlie washed her body and hair. She made quick work of it too because she didn’t want Vaggie to fall asleep in the tub either.

When she was done, she took out Vaggie before drawing the tub because she knew how scared she was of the drain. She took out the toys before pulling the plug out too. Couldn’t risk any of them getting stuck. That would make both Lucifer and Vaggie have a heart attack.

After drying her off, she helped her get dressed in some of Lucifer’s old pajamas. They were about the same height so it worked. 

When Vaggie was lead out of the bathroom, she squealed with delight as she saw her favorite stuffy, Bucky. She grabbed him off the bed and hugged him tightly. Charlie washed the pacifier in hot water before giving it to Vaggie. Then she tucked Vaggie into the bed before exiting the room since it was still early and she wanted to check on everyone else before she went to sleep. As a flip with a caregiver lean, she always found herself needing to check on everyone. It was just part of her personality, I guess.

[sofasoap]

Second chance

Pairing: Simon “ Ghost” Riley x f!Reader

Summary:  Your fear that history will repeat itself.

Warning: M rating, slight angsty moments, discussion of past issues. Tw talk of pregnancy and children

A/N : Continuation/parallel universe of @saltofmercury ’s “The Favorite MacTavish” , where the reader/OC is Soap’s little sister. Thanks to her kindness leading me her character :D

“masterlist” for more stories to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

"Everything alright love?”

“Mm Hm.”

Simon has noticed you've been extra clingy since he got home from the mission this time round.

Snucking up to him all the time and try to wrap both of your arms around his broad chest from behind.

Plonking yourself into his lap, while he winds down with his book in front of the fireplace at night, after the twins have gone to bed.

You subconsciously bury yourself into his chest middle of night, seeking for his warmth and comfort.

Not that he minds. He secretly enjoys the intimacy, which makes him feel loved,wanted, needed.

Looking down at you, basking in the afterglow of a tender love making session, tracing your finger over his tattoos on his arm.  

Simon calls your name. He notices your movement halt for a second, before curling your fingers up.

You are hiding something from him.

Gently cupping your face, lifting it so he can look you right in the eyes. Noticing tears starting to well up.

“Talk to me. What’s wrong? I know there’s something going on. Tell me.”

“I'm scared Simon.”

“About? What happened?”Simon frowned. Has something happened that he has no knowledge about? Racking his brain trying to go through all the conversation with you, and Soap, and his team mates, nothing triggers his mind.

“... The baby.”

“What happened to the kids?” Simon was ready to get up, to check on the twins. You reach out to grab his arm, stopping him.

“The twins are fine Simon.. I..” You took a deep shuddered breath.

“I am pregnant again.”

Simon is at a loss for words at your reluctance of not telling him sooner. And it suddenly clicked.

He remembered a passing conversation he was having with Soap a week or two ago while they had a drink, when he mentioned to Soap why he is unwilling to have more kids.

“... She suffered too much last time. That’s why I don’t want any more children.”

You must have caught the tail end of the conversation. It dawned on him the expression you had on your face after you came back into the room was a mixture of disappointment and fear.

The disappointment ,he doesn’t want the child.

The fear, he is going to disappear again after hearing the news.

He was the cause of your fear. The pain. AGAIN.

You had to go through the entire pregnancy with the twins, without him by your side, because he was acting like an asshole, refusing to face his demon. And you nearly died from it.  If it wasn’t for Soap and Emma supporting you, shaking his head, he didn’t want to think of the possible “ what if’s.”

Taking his silence and action as rejection, you started sobbing. “I can’t do this alone, Simon. Not again.”

“ I am sorry love..That’s not what I meant..”Caressing your hair and giving you soft kisses while cradling you, “I just don’t want you to go through the pain again…You nearly lost your life.” The guilt is starting to eat through Simon, "I was an utter ass pushing you away and not being there for you.” tightening his hold on you, “I will be here for you, this time. I promise. I wouldn’t ghost you this time.”

You let out a little sobbing laugh. “That is a bad dad joke Simon.” 

Gently wiping your tears away with his thumb,smirking. “I had plenty of practice.”

True to his words, Simon was there for you all the way.

The first time he attended the ultrasound scan with you, he nearly overcome with emotion. These are all new experiences for him. Looking at the little dot on the screen. A new life. New responsibility. More love to share.

Even with his work commitments and missions taking him away from home, he always checks up on you. Telling the kids to look after their mum and future siblings.

“Yes L.T!”

“.... Did you…” Simon asks with a deadpan expression. 

“Ask Johnny.” You held your hands up. 

The pregnancy went through without a hitch.

He paced up and down the corridor of the hospital outside the operation room, agitated. He wishes he can light up a cigarette, to calm his nerves. He quit smoking years ago, after holding the twins for the first time.

In the end it was his children that gave him the strength.

“It will be alright Da. Ma and the baby will be fine.”

The twins knew this is all new to their father, seeing their mother going through this. You and Simon were honest with them when the children asked one day, out of curiosity, why they took their mother’s surname instead of Simon’s.

“Because your Da was a fool.” Simon was brutally honest. Looking at him after patting his hand, you gave him a tight smile. “Well, your Ma was a fool too.”  After giving the abridged and child friendly version of the story, the twins said nothing, both of them looked at each other, and went up and gave Simon a hug. 

Kylie Kathleen Riley was born with a loud announcement as she entered this world.

“Hot tempered just like her Ma.” you said to Simon with a tired but cheeky smile. 

Gaz walked around the base smiling like a dork days after he knew how you and Simon’s newborn was named after him, showing off his new goddaughter’s photos to everyone he knew.

“You know it’s Mini and I that had the child, not you right?” Simon mocked him once.

Gaz doesn’t care, he dots on his goddaughter so much, you started teasing Simon,

“Careful, now Kylie will say she would wanna marry uncle Gaz when she grows up, just like Aileen wanted to Marry König.”

Gaz was banned from the Riley household for a while.

You shook your head with your husband’s protectiveness with his daughters. It will come back and bite him one day.

And sure it did. 

Laswell and her wife were pleasantly surprised the child was named after her. They attend her first birthday, and there’s always presents sent to the Riley household if they couldn’t be present for the important events.

Soap named his twins afterwards after Price and Gaz. Big chaos everytime there is a huge gathering, trying to call out names.

"SIMON!!"

"WHICH ONE?"

"John!!!"

"Price? Soap? or Tiny? or this little bub here?"

"MACTAVISH!!!!!"

" There's five of us here.. which one do you want?"

Gaz looked at little Kylie in his lap, "No confusion here between us eh?"

" Gaz, you forgot my son is named after you too?" “And mine.”

Gaz had a hard time trying to name his children when they were born.

I love to think the 141 and all the members they worked with ended up to be very close together and one big happy family. :)