#oh never mind she works at the mission ... still.

[sansaorgana]

Oh my God!!

"You talked in your sleep... do you really love me?"

With Buck Cleven X reader, please?? Maybe reader is his best friend and sometimes talks in her sleep? So, best friends to lovers?? Please you'd cure my depression 😭😍

Love you & thank you 💕

hiii I'm so sorry you had to wait so long 😭 does anyone even still remember me omg 😫 thank you for your request! I didn't use this exact quote but the situation is the same and The Reader is a nurse here 😷

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Working as a nurse and befriending some of these boys, you mostly dreaded the day when one of them would come to you in a state that was doomed. To stare at your dying friend in pain, knowing you can’t do anything about it… That was keeping you awake at night. It was already difficult enough already to witness the boys you didn’t know at all die like this and not be able to help. But a vision of one of your friends in this situation was impossible to handle at times.

The one you worried about the most was Major Gale Cleven, the one everyone kept calling Buck. But you were the only person who still was calling him Gale. He was your friend from the moment he showed up. Handsome, charming but in a quiet way, kind-hearted and very responsible. You admired the way he was with his boys; like an older brother they could look up to. And not long time had passed until you realised you were actually in love with him.

Of course you would never admit that. But it made you smile when the boys admitted you were their favourite nurse, when they were treating you like the female equivalent of Gale Cleven at the base. Almost as if you were playing house with him with a bunch of pilots who were like your sons.

But loving a pilot was a dangerous business for the heart. Not that love could have been prevented. You had no control over that. But at least it was unrequited – in other circumstances you would cry your heart out into your pillow at night for loving someone who didn’t reciprocate his feelings. But this time it was for the better.

Yet, when you found him in the med bay after one of the missions, your heart skipped a beat. Your friend was talking to him softly, his face was in blood. You approached them immediately, ignoring other patients waiting for your care and attention.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?” You asked, trying to hide how nervous you were.

“His plane got hit,” your friend explained. “He managed to come back and land safely with a concussion, can you imagine?” The admiration in her voice made you feel jealous and you hated this side of you. She had every right to admire him for this sort of achievement. “I have to clean the wounds on his face. Poor lad, they’re gonna leave scars.”

“I’ll do it,” you dismissed her and moved past her, nearly pushing her away. She was surprised at your reaction but she didn’t have time to think about it or comment because other patients needed her.

So, she left you alone with Gale. His beautiful eyes were hazy from the concussion and probably a state of shock his body was in. He wouldn’t be able to fly a plane with a concussion if not for the adrenaline in his blood system.

“Hi,” you greeted him softly when you started to clean the wounds on his face gently. They were not very deep but they caused lots of bleeding and your friend was right; some of them would leave scars. Not that you minded, you only hoped he wouldn’t grow insecure because of them. “You’ve gained some scars, brave fly boy,” you chuckled nervously but he only looked at you like he didn’t recognise you. “It’s okay. You’ll sleep it off,” you caressed his hair gently. 

He was confused and in pain but yet, you hated yourself for kind of liking this version of Gale Cleven. Not only was he even more adorable than usual but also you could allow yourself the gestures you would never do if he was acting like himself.

When his face was clean and you washed some of his hair, too – the parts that got stuck together with blood, you laid him down gently and smiled softly at his handsome face. He reached his hand out as if he wanted you to hold it. An unusual thing to do, which made your heart flutter in your chest, but you tried to remember that he was not acting sane at the moment. Still, you gently took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed. You decided to be with him until he’d wake up. Even if it would be the whole rest of the day and a night.

“Other boys need you,” the doctor approached you with a furrowed brow.

“He needs me the most,” you looked up.

“Cleven had a slight concussion, he will be absolutely fine,” the doctor insisted.

You knew that he was right and you didn’t want to act suspicious, so you sighed and squeezed Gale’s hand before leaving his side to go back to work. However, you worked as fast as you could, not even talking to the boys you were taking care of, just focusing purely on your job. And when you were finished, you went back to Gale’s bed and sat on the edge to watch over him. He looked so peaceful when he slept.

His wounds still kept bleeding a little here and there so you continued to clean them once in a while. And in his sleep, he sometimes moved, so you were putting your hand on his forehead, trying to calm him down and make sure he didn’t have a fever. Bucky checked on him in the meantime.

“Thanks for taking care of him,” he winked at you and you could feel your cheeks heating up. Did he know…? Were you that obvious?

“It’s nothing. He always takes care of all of you boys. I can see that and they always tell me that. Even today, the guys from his fort were asking me to take extra care of Major Cleven,” I answered with all honesty.

“Yeah, they look up to him. What he did today was… incredible,” Bucky nodded. “When they landed, he didn’t even recognise me but a few minutes earlier he had been flying the goddamn plane in this state.”

“It was shock and adrenaline,” you explained. “He could have forgotten us but not how to survive and fly,” you added with a smile. “Or he’s a natural. Maybe he was born and already knew how to fly.”

“Believe me, he didn’t,” Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “I remember our early days… He didn’t.”

“Okay,” you giggled and squeezed Gale’s hand tighter. You imagined what he had to be like in the early days of his training. He had to be adorable; a bit scared but also full of hope and optimism, that boyish excitement. “Thanks for checking up on him. When he wakes up, I’ll tell him you came.”

“If he recognises us,” Bucky made a joke and walked out of the med bay but it left you anxious now. He was right. The doctor had said it was a slight concussion but… What if Gale would wake up and not recognise any of you?

Lost in thoughts, you didn’t realise he was having a dream again. You only reacted when he started to mumble some incoherent things.

“Shh, Gale, shh, it’s fine,” you whispered softly when you leaned in to see his face better and put both of your hands on his wounded cheeks, delicately, avoiding to cause him any further pain.

“...Her…” He mumbled, his words suddenly making sense. You furrowed your brow. “I love her.”

You swallowed thickly at those words. It was only a dream, right? It didn’t mean anything. He couldn’t be in love with someone else…? 

You shook it off. What were you even thinking of? What did it matter? You were not together and you would never be.

But then, Gale mumbled your name. Yours, not anyone else’s. You had to blink a few times and catch your breath all over again. And when you thought it had all been a mistake, he mumbled it out again and and again and then…

“I love her,” he repeated.

However, he seemed to be in a great torment because of whatever the dream was about. So, with a heavy heart, you shook his shoulders a little, forcing him to come back to reality.

“Hi,” you greeted him softly as his eyes widened. “Welcome back, soldier. Do you know where you are?”

“Wh-what happened?” He sat up rapidly, his hands immediately going to his face as if he wanted to check if everything was in its place.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” You asked, adjusting yourself on the edge of his bed to be closer to him.

“We got hit… Oh my God… We got hit!” He panicked but you shushed him. Other boys were asleep and you didn’t want them to wake up or be alarmed by his attack.

“It’s fine, hey, Gale, it’s okay. Everyone from your fort is fine and you know why…?” You asked with a gentle smile. He shook his head. “Because you safely took them home and landed that goddamn plane even though you had concussion and didn’t know your own name,” you tried to sound casual but the pride in your voice was more than obvious.

“I… I did that?” He asked. “No way.”

“Yeah, you did,” you laughed. “And I cleaned your face, it was all bloody. You’re gonna have some scars,” you explained. “Want a mirror?”

“I don’t think so,” Gale winced as his fingertips traced the wounds. He hissed out of pain so you grabbed his wrists and took the hands away from his face.

“Don’t. They’re still fresh. But not so bad, I’ve seen worse,” you tried to cheer him up. “In fact, I think, you’re gonna look amazing,” you winked and he sighed. “You remember me, right?”

“What? What are you talking about? Of course I do,” he furrowed his brows as his eyes looked worried.

“Yeah, but after you landed, you didn’t. You didn’t even know who Bucky was. He was here, you know. Checking on you. And all the boys from your fort were so worried about you. You’re a real leader,” you squeezed his hands but he didn’t say anything to these things. Praises were making him blush and he did now as well, looking away.

“Well, thanks for taking care of me,” he finally looked at you again.

“No problem. You wanted me to stay, reaching your hands out like a little boy,” you chuckled nervously. Perhaps it was a bad idea to bring this up.

“Yeah, well, I had to feel lonely when I couldn’t recognise anyone. Even when I can, I often feel lonely,” he admitted with a shrug of his arms. “We’re so far away from home, from our families. The boys are like family, too, but every day can be their last. And men… Well, we don’t really…” He tried to look for words.

“Hold each other’s hands?” You asked and he nodded. You squeezed his hands again. “You talked in your sleep,” you brought that up, encouraged by his last confession.

“Oh dear God…” Gale rolled his eyes, visibly embarrassed. “What about?”

“You were talking about some girl that you love,” you teased him, grinning and winking playfully, pretending to be a teasing friend and hiding the nervousness. “She happens to have the same name as me or something.”

You expected him to be defensive or laugh at you. You would push his shoulder gently and tell him that you had been joking. But he didn’t react like that at all. In fact, he took his hands away as if your touch burnt him and he cleared his throat nervously.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Can we… Can we pretend you’ve never heard that?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You kept staring at him in disbelief and bit on your lower lip.

“How?” You asked, feeling a sudden outburst of bravery in you. If Gale could have flown a plane with a concussion, you could say what you wanted to say. “How am I supposed to pretend I have never heard that? When that’s… That’s all I ever wanted to hear.”

Gale looked up at you as if he had to check with his own eyes if you weren’t joking. But you were dead serious.

“So don’t pretend,” he finally spoke up and reached out for your hand again. His fingers were cold and shaky. You intertwined them with yours. “But I didn’t want to do anything until… Well, I planned to ask you to dance with me at the party after my 25th mission. But I never wanted to let you know before that because if I died…”

“If you died, I would never know,” you looked up to meet his gaze with tears pricking your eyes. “And you think that’s fair? You think it would make it easier for me? It would not.”

“I’m sorry,” Gale swallowed thickly. “Are you angry with me?”

“For that? No. For nearly dying today? Yes,” you nodded and wiped your tears away with your free hand.

“Let’s make a deal,” he proposed, looking at you with pain in his eyes. He hated to see you so sad and crying… Especially when it was caused by him. “Let’s not… Let’s not do anything about it until I’ve done my missions, alright?”

“Alright,” you nodded through the tears. “But… What if you don’t finish them…?”

“Well, then, we’re both gonna die without ever kissing each other,” he lowered his voice even though all the other nurses were out of the med bay and other patients were asleep. “But… That doesn’t sound right to me.”

“That doesn’t sound right to me either,” you admitted.

“Then come here,” he encouraged you to get closer. “Just one kiss.”

“A promise of many more, I hope. Not the last one,” you said in a shaky voice but he only nodded his head because that was a promise he couldn’t make.

If it depended on him, he would. He would swear on everything. But it depended on things much bigger than you or him. On things he couldn’t control nor prevent.

He cupped your face delicately, as if it were you with the wounds on your cheeks, and he joined your lips in a sweet kiss, even though it tasted salty from all your tears.

“Just don’t die,” you breathed out when the kiss ended. “Just don’t die and the rest I can fix and endure.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[postmortemnivis]

nobody knew simon’s name, his cold glances penetrating souls whenever someone on the force even dared to call him by his first name. he preferred it this way. he wasn’t the kind to blend personal life and work, he didn’t want to look at himself in the mirror without his mask and still see a murderer. his hands were clean, protected by the gloves ghost slipped on each time he reached base. it was soon that the other soldiers almost forgot his name, agreeing that their lieutenant was indeed a ghost.

that was until your worried voice called for him.

you didn’t know of the ghost identity, it had never even crossed your mind that your simon, your sweet and caring boyfriend’s personality would switch into a cold blooded killer as soon as he set foot at base or in the field. of course he never mentioned it with you, he sporadically talked about his job and his missions. you knew he was a strict lieutenant, but you had been kept away from more by the person with the skull mask and balaclava.

“simon?” you asked for the third time the receptionist. she apologetically looked up at you and shrugged. “oh cmon, simon riley. i know for a fact that he’s here. please, i need to see him.”

“i’m very sorry miss but…” the woman shook her head again, “let me call the captain.”

you sighed and sat down by the waiting area until a man walked in and talked to the woman.

“who’re you looking for?”

you stood up. “simon. simon riley.”

“ghost?”

you shook your head, almost clueless. “no, simon riley.”

“yeah, that’s him…” he said, “he’s training the recruits now. shall i deliver a message?”

“no, i need to see him personally. i wouldn’t have come all the way here if it wasn’t important, captain.”

you'd seen price a few times, simon's loyalty to the man was almost like a dog's one, always following orders and rarely complaining. he often talked about him when he was at home, all he shared with you about his threatening job was the friends he made along the way: johnny, kyle, price, gary, nikolai. he'd often go out for a pint—or two—with johnny and kyle, who also occasionally would come to your shared apartment for dinner with their temporary girlfriends.

"follow me." price sighed. you eagerly followed him, as close as his shadow, and the courtyard came into sight. dozens and dozens of soldiers in scarlet training uniforms were running laps of the immense open space under the pale sun, and that's when you spotted a tall and muscular man in black tactical gear. hell, he was hard to miss.

"another lap, smith!" his mancunian accent was stronger than his will to neutralise it. "if my gran was alive she'd be faster than ya."

you'd recognised the voice, of course, even if it was much harsher than usual, but you couldn't recognise him.

you realised, that was ghost. his cold eyes were studying each of the recruit's tired and red faces, his arms behind his back as he barked for five more laps for the ones who didn't look sweaty enough. even his voice was different, but what shocked you was the black balaclava with the white skull drawn on top.

you'd seen the mask once or twice over the years, shoved on the bottom of his duffle bag or drying on a windowsill, but you've never given it much thought, why would you?

"si?" you asked, standing directly behind him as price stood a few feet from you.

his head snapped in your direction at a worryingly fast speed, his eyes immediately becoming soft, then confused.

"what're you doin' here?" his voice spoke, much sweeter.

you kept staring at him, not recognising the man you loved.

he immediately grabbed the crown of the balaclava and yanked it off without a second though. holding the black piece of clothing in his hand, both of them came to cup your elbows, drawing you closer to him.

"love?" he called you.

still at loss of words, you reached to the balaclava and twirled it between your fingers.

"love, talk to me." his voice sounded worried.

"ghost?"

he shook his head. "simon, love."

"we'll talk about that at home." you raised your eyebrows, attempting a smile.

he looked at you impatiently, his fingers brushing up and down your forearms.

you fished in your bag a small plastic bag and gave it to him.

this wasn't like one of the times when he'd forget his lunch at home so you'd drop by and give it to johnny so he'd give it to an always so busy simon ghost; he could see it in your eyes that this was something more.

he unwrapped the plastic bag that you had rolled up on itself. his eyes looked brighter than ever when he took with shaky fingers the finally positive pregnancy test.

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader

You're early.

Your little knock on the door sends him into a spiral of panic, brain splitting in half, trying to figure out if he can hide his mortifying failure from you and still save dinner.

You knock again.

"Hey, sorry, I know we're early but-" You peel off with a sniff, nose wrinkling slightly, lips tucking together. You're wearing a lip stick, or a lip gloss, or something? And your hair is done. "Is something burning?"

"No!" He blurts. "No, uh. I'm just... cooking. Come in, come in."

He did actually, burn dinner. He burnt it so bad he had to order delivery, Thai on the fly, much to your excitement, and he files the knowledge of one of your favorite foods away for the future. The two of you eat together, little bits and pieces being given to Emmaline from your finger, and by the time you're finished, he's nearly worked up the nerve to start talking.

"So..." your voice trails, awkwardly, and you glance at him before looking away, finding a spot on the wall to study. Here goes nothing.

"I ah, wanted to explain, my behavior... from the other night." He starts, rubbing the nape of his neck. You watch him expectantly, Emmaline on your lap, and when he falters, you give him an encouraging nod.

"I'm listening."

"How I reacted, how I spoke to you was... unfair. It was cruel and I never want to make you upset, like that." You nod. "What I do- my job- it's... it can be dangerous. Stressful. Our last mission was difficult and I... operate in a different headspace at work. It's what keeps me alive. Makes me good at what I do." Skip the killing part, LT, Soap's voice reminds him, and he pushes on. "I was still decompressing, when you came to the door and I didn't want you to see me... like that."

"With your war paint." You quip, and he pauses, head cocked. "You had black stuff, around your eyes?"

"Yes, with my war paint. I didn't want you to..." He loses it for a second, flailing in the wind, mind scrambling as he tries to put the words together. Just say it. Tell the truth. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me. I don't think I could stand it. It's no excuse but, I guess, I thought you deserved an explanation."

"You're right." You say slowly. "It's not an excuse." You sigh, twirling a fork through the last of your noodles. "I'm not mad at you, not anymore. I just... it's hard you know. To put yourself out there, when you're a single mom. And a widow. I thought, maybe... you didn't-"

"I do." He cuts you off. "I... you and Emmaline, you're the best things that have happened in a long time. I-"

"Oh my god!" you gasp, and he instinctually startles, muscles going stiff as he surveys the flat.

"What?"

"It's snowing! Sorry, just uh..." You're already standing, hand half reaching towards him, excited smile on your face. "Emmaline's never seen snow before, can we... this is her first winter." You explain, and then move towards the balcony, fidgeting with his door lock, huffing in frustration when you can't figure it out.

"I got it." He says, not mentioning that it's custom, and slides it free, pushing the door wide so you can go outside. You're vibrating with joy, smile wide and big, and even Emmaline feels it, watching her mum, little face lit up the same as yours.

"Look, baby. Look!" You point, and then cup your palm, letting fat white flakes fall into your hand, tilting to show Emma, and she cackles with excitement, pudgy hand slapping against yours, bringing the melting snow to her mouth. You laugh with her, staring back up at the sky before glancing over to where he stands in the doorway, enraptured. The snow is caught in your hair, on your nose, in your eyelashes, the same as the baby, both of you glowing on his fucking balcony like angels on earth, sent to him from someone up there who might love him.

"Thanks, mum." he whispers to himself, to her, ducking inside to grab the blanket from the couch so he can wrap the two of you up in it to keep you at least a little warm and protected from the elements. "I wish you could have met them."

When he reappears, you're still catching flakes, this time with your tongue, hardly paying attention until he's settling the blanket on your shoulders and stepping back to watch, content to try to memorize every single second.

"Come here." You call, extending a hand, wiggling your fingers. "Try to catch one on your tongue." But he can't move.... he's too stunned, standing there before you, staring, and it gives you pause. "Simon." You whisper, head tipped back. The balcony lamp reflects in your eyes, snowflakes and yellow shine glowing back at him, the entire world lit up inside them, and his hand finds your cheek, cupping it with his bare palm, thumb stroking across the velvet that is your skin.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. So, so sorry." His voice sounds thick, fractured, and you smile, leaning into him, Emmaline's warm weight between your bodies.

"I know... I... I understand now." You look away, for a second, taking a deep breath before blinking rapidly, tears just barely there on your waterline. "I can't... losing Emma's dad, before she was even born I- I can't... I don't want to go through anything like that again, Simon. I'm scared." It's a confession, horrifying and real, terrified and heartbreaking. All he can do is tell you the truth. Tell you what he feels. What he knows.

"You don't have to be scared." He murmurs, low and soft, other hand coming to gently support Emmaline's back. "Not with me. I promise you." What is he doing, what is he doing, what is he- what is he promising? To live forever? To never hurt you? To never let either of you be hurt? To claw his way back to you, even in death?

He looks down at you, at Emma, and the world freezes. He sees everything so clearly, the image of his future, of yours- a little house with a yard, another baby. Emmaline a big sister, so proud and excited. All of you tucked away somewhere secret and safe.

He takes a deep breath, exhale crystalizing in the air, water vapor falling like a halo around you, and his confession comes unbidden, so easily given to you. "I want to kiss you."

"Okay." You answer, and then he moves, closing the gap, slowly pressing his lips to the warmth of yours, blood pooling beneath his skin, heat flowing between your bodies. You taste like heaven, mouth sweet and easy for him, parting with a tiny gasp, and it overpowers him to the point where he thinks his knees might give out. He can't help but hold your closer, arm tightening around your back, finger stroking down the length of your spine-

Emma cries. It's not really a cry, more like a little shout, and you pull away abruptly, giggly expression on your face.

"What's wrong baby girl." He hums, patting her back, tucking the blanket tighter around your arm and her body.

"I think she's upset she's going to have to share you. You're her favorite nowadays, you know." You tease, and his grin is so heavy on his face, but so light at the same time, something completely foreign and wild, the breadth of happiness something he hasn't felt in so many years. "And she's probably cold."

"Should we go inside?" He motions, somewhat relieved to get both of you out of the cold, and when you nod, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, squeezing gently.

"We should."

[fettuccin-e]

So Good

Kinktober Day 17: Praise Kink

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv, fingering (r!recieving), praise kink of course, Miguel has a filthy fucking mouth, shy!reader, miguel going feral because of course he does (w/c: 1.2K)

A/N: Back on my Miguel bullshit for my Kinktober catch-up of course. I cannot help it when he is so big and broad and sexy okay??? Anyway enjoy him goin' feral for his girl for 1k words hehehe (For the month, I have been following this list from flightlessangelwings!)

He first noticed it after a mission, and cursed himself for never seeing it before. 

It had been innocent, tugging you close to his side as you both walked through the portal back to HQ, whispering a “you did good out there,” into your ear. Innocent enough.

But you had practically squeaked, your eyes looking anywhere but him, nearly pulling out of his grasp. Miguel saw how your thighs clenched together at the compliment, and it takes everything in him not to take you in the hallway right then, bury his face between them.

He doesn’t. He opts for filing it away in his mind, saving the information for later, somehow knowing that it would be important.

You both hadn’t been together for very long then, still in the trial stage of this new beautiful thing between you both. He was still hesitant to kiss you then, you had still been hesitating to go to his apartment with him.

But Miguel watches, waits, and of course, gathers more information. Starts complimenting you more on missions, in the office. Tells you what good work you’ve done, how you look so pretty in the new dress he bought you. It makes you fluster nearly immediately, your gaze pinned to the floor as you smile shyly, and fuck, those gorgeous, gorgeous thighs clench together every time. Taunting him.

Finally, after months of watching, waiting, he gives in.

He’s got you spread out beneath him, practically sobbing as he fucks you deep on his thick fingers. You loosen up so easily for him, desperate for it, your slick fucking dripping around his hand. Finally, after so long waiting to tell you exactly what goes on in his mind when he has you like this,  he lets himself speak aloud.

“So good, hermosa, taking me so well,” he murmurs, and watches as your eyes fly open, a strangled moan flying from your lips. He can’t help the smile that plays at his lips. “You like that baby? Like hearing how good you are, how perfect you sound when I’m playing with this gorgeous pussy?” He can fucking feel the way your cunt clenches around his fingers with his words.

“Fuck, oh my God, Miguel-” you gasp, but you can’t seem to help yourself as you grind your hips towards Miguel’s hand. He adds another finger, stretching you wide to take his cock. “You- you can’t just-”

Miguel growls, leaning forward to nip at your jaw with fanged teeth. “Oh baby, of course I can. I can tell you how fucking good this pussy feels around my fingers, how it’s going to feel even better around my cock. This little cunt gets so wet for me, doesn’t she?” You whine wordlessly, and Miguel grinds the calloused pads of his fingers into that sweet spot that makes you fucking scream for him. “Answer me,” he snarls.

“Yes! Yes, ‘m so fucking wet, need you to fuck me so bad, Miguel,” you cry, humping your hips desperately into his hand, chasing your orgasm. 

“Come on, sweetheart, soak my fucking hand,” he says, deep and dark, his eyes trained on the way your entrance leaks around his fingers. He reaches a thumb up to rub hard circles into your clit, and chuckles darkly when you let out a shaky moan with your orgasm, clenching around his thick fingers and somehow getting even wetter.

“So fucking pretty when you cum for me,” he mumbles, and your eyelids flutter shut, trying to breathe through the aftershocks.

Miguel pulls his hand out of your gaping entrance, bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking your slick off his fingers. “Tastes so good, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine softly under your breath, completely at a loss for words.

Leaning down, he licks into your mouth, giving you a taste of yourself as he notches the thick, leaking head of his cock to your entrance, pushing in, in, in.

Like every time you take him, it’s so much, and you gasp into his mouth as his cock reaches so deep inside, spreading you wide enough that you fear you’ll break.

“I know, amorcita, I know, it’s so much, isn’t it?” he whispers against your lips as he pushes in to the hilt. "You’re taking it so well for me though, baby, so fucking good for me.” 

He can’t help the groan that wrenches its way out of his throat when you clench around him like a vice, moaning high in the back of your throat. His hips move of their own accord, pulling slowly out of you before he shoves himself back in, and it feels like he reaches even deeper.

“God, Miguel-” you moan, “it feels so good, you feel so big.” And Miguel’s vision blurs at the edges, his eyes tingeing red at your words.

He loses himself to it, the way your cunt squeezes him every time he pushes inside, hot and tight and fucking maddening. You claw at his shoulders every time he presses deep, grinding the tip of his cock into your cunt while overwhelming pleasure sparks up your spine.

He wraps his strong arms around the small of your back, tugging you up into a nearly impossible arch as he fucks into you like a goddamn animal, your head pressed back into the pillows. “So fucking perfect,” he snarls, and God, he’s not even talking to you anymore. His eyes are unfocused, wild, unable to focus on your face or the sight of your swollen pussy as you take him over and over and over. But he doesn’t stop talking. 

“Fucking perfect, beautiful girl, taking my cock so goddamn well. My fucking girl, so good to me with her perfect pussy, feels so good, Dios, necesito este cuerpo constantemente, mi nena, mierda-”

Your head swims, blood pounding in your ears as he takes and takes and takes. You feel tears fall down your cheeks, choked moans forcing their way from your lungs.

Your orgasm rips through you without warning, without buildup, your body just locking up and electrified like a livewire as you soak his cock, his thighs. 

“Good girl,” he rasps. “That’s my good fucking girl.”

“Shit- Miguel-” you keen, but he only shushes you, nearly hissing through his fangs, as he pushes as deep as he can into your body, pumping you full as his cock pulses inside of you. It’s fucking everything, pure bliss, and you both tremble through it together. He lowers your hips slowly back down to the bed, keeping himself buried deep inside while you quake through the aftershocks.

Time passes, but you can’t tell how fast it does. Only that you try to match your breathing together, Miguel wiping the tears off your cheeks. “Fucking perfect,” he whispers, but you’re too fucked out to respond.

He pulls out slowly, rolling you to your side, and plastering himself to your back. You can hear the way he breathes you in, and you settle into his warm body.

“Got a thing for compliments, baby?” he murmurs into your hair.

“You ass, I was trying to be subtle about that,” you admonish, but you can’t help the way you smile.

“Can’t hide anything from me, sweetheart,” he chuckles, his chest rumbling against your back. You tilt your head to the side, and Miguel leans to meet you in a kiss.

“I’ve still got my secrets, O’Hara,” you mutter against his lips, and Miguel grins.

“If you say so, baby.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Reader being Jason or Dick's girlfriend, who doesn't know about their double life, casually blurting out that she was never a fan of Batman and Robin or that she prefers Superman and the whole family is offended. 😭

I was tired and failed to realises that this came out a bit like a crack fic in the end but I’m sure you won’t mind…hopefully.

Jason: honestly has too much fun shit talking Bruce to you, especially when you didn’t know the man that you were shit talking as well as he did.

He just found it funny hearing you say with your full chest in front of his family that you prefer the Man of Steel over the Dark Knight.

It sends his entire family in disarray and chaos and Jason was thriving off of it immensely. He does not help the situation at all and would wholeheartedly make things worse for the sake of having something to talk about later.

Dick was borderline catatonic as Duke and Steph were trying to bring him back to reality.

Alfred excused himself from the room.

Damian was sharpening his dinner knife. Menacingly.

Meanwhile Tim was pulling up a long winded power point presentation about how statistically Batman was better than Superman. (In every possibly way, you’re just hating.)

That’s literally the title of his presentation.

‘Did he have this prepared in his free time or?’ You’d ask Jason who shrugs.

‘Let the boy have hobbies peanut, it’s not like he’s got anything better going for him right now.’ He replies, thinking that he should start coming to family dinners more if this was the end result.

Bruce might’ve looked the calmest out of everyone but internally he was cursing out Clark for stealing his future in law. He knew preferences exists and didn’t hold it against you, but currently he was in a disagreement with Clark over a recent mission and it had become a thing where the entire family didn’t dare speak or utter Clark/Superman’s name during this sensitive period.

Once Dick comes back to the land of the living, he’s practically hanging off of you screaming, ‘WHY?!’

Jason has to get involved and remove his brother off of you before he potentially scared you away from future family dinners, even though he himself barely attends any, but the moment you entered his life he wanted you to be more involved with the people in his life that cares about; whether he’d like to admit it or not.

‘They don’t hate me do they?’ You asked Jason by the end of the night, genuinely worried that his family might not like you after tonight.

Jason, noticing this, grabs your hands and grips them tightly in his and gives you a reassuring smile. ‘Babe I’m sure as shit they like you, I mean I’ve never seen them react like that before and if they didn’t like you, they would let you know immediately.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘Besides, weren’t not a vocal bunch when it comes to our emotions. So seeing them get all up in arms over you preferring Superman and trying to persuade you into thinking otherwise was a highlight for me.’

‘Really you think so?’ You leant into him, still not fully convinced and needing his comfort more than anything.

‘Oh yeah. I’m for certain chipmunk. I think I even heard Bruce curse Clark under his breath once or twice.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your head as he holds you close.

‘But why? It’s not like they work with Batman, right?’ Your curious words caused Jason to stiffen and his breath to hitch as he tried to find the words before blurting out the first thing that came to his head. ‘No, they’re just…really devoted fans of Batman and Robin. So you could say that preferring Superman over them is a personal insult to them.’ He said, hoping you’d buy the lie, he genuinely didn’t want to subject you to the whole vigilantism so early on in your relationship.

Thankfully you did take the bait as you muttered into his shoulder, ‘okay, I hope they know I meant no offence but it.’ Jason let’s our a laugh, holding you closer to him as he closes his eyes to savour your bodily warmth against him. ‘I’m sure they do sweetheart, they’re the smartest people I know and they wouldn’t let something silly this affect our relationship.’ He said softly. ‘Now let’s go home and cuddle up in bed together yeah?’

‘That sounds like a great idea.’ You replied.

Dick: pouty baby.

What do you mean you don’t like Batman and Robin?! What did Superman have that he didn’t?!

For as far as Dick was concerned he has the fatter ass between him and Clark. He’s done the research.

He’s leaning all of his weight into you and says under his breath. ‘Why does my love betray me so.’ Meanwhile you’re looking at his confused as to why he’s acting as if you’ve just destroyed his lively hood with a single sentence.

Duke and Steph were patting Dick on the shoulder, sharing their sympathies with the revelation made at the dinner table.

Alfred left the room…again. First Jason’s partner, now Dick’s? What a coincidence.

Jason immeditly calls you his favourite and talks about how you and his partner -who also prefers Superman- would get along great while shit talks Batman simultaneously, almost as though he has a personal gripe with him or something.

Damian is sharpening his dinner knife…again but even more menacingly.

And Tim was back on the PowerPoint presentation where he goes into excruciating depths as to why Batman was statistically better the Superman.

The family is once again dissolved into chaos and Bruce was sat at the head of the table, calm, cool and collected but internally cursing Clark out once again for stealing another potential future in law.

(Clark has sneezed approximately twice at this rate and was taking every test to make sure he wasn’t coming down with anything serious)

After all was said and done and you were getting ready for bed, you asked the question that had been on your mind the entire night; ‘Your family doesn’t hate me, do they?’

Dick chuckled as he held you against his chest. ‘No, they love you enough to almost start a war over the fact that you like Superman over Batman and they’re not exactly the most in tune with their emotions. So seeing them react the way that they did? Only proves that they do like you cutie.’ He says as he gives you a peck on the lips.

You pouted. ‘But why does it feel like I just attached their lively hoods? It’s not like they know Batman or Robin personally or work with them in any capacity.’

Dick froze, he -much like Jason- didn’t want to subject you with the whole vigilante thing just yet, he didn’t want to scare you off so soon into the relationship in fear of scaring you away forever. ‘Devoted fans act like that whenever you tell them that you don’t like the same person as them.’ Dick replied, rubbing his hand up and down your back. ‘It’s an issue that should be regulated and or addressed at least.’

You hummed in agreement. ‘Well besides that, I like yours family, they all look like great people to know that have your back when you’re in a tough situation.’ You say as you kissed the side of his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, feeling sleepy.

‘They really are.’ Dick replied softly. ‘They really are.’

[queen-of-fanfics]

Stay Away From Him

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.

A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!

Part 2

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Peter!”

“Hey, Y/N”

“Oh hey, Peters.”

“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.

“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”

This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.

Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.

“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.

“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.

“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.” 

“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in. 

Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.

“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”

“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.

You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.

“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.

He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.

“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.

“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.

“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.

“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.

“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.

Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.

“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie. 

“What? You keeping her hostage now?”

All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving. 

“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie. 

“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.

“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.” 

“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.

“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”

“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.

“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”

“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”

“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders. 

Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises. 

“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.” 

“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”

Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out. 

“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”

“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.” 

Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”

“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.

“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else. 

You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off. 

“Come up here and help me look at this.” 

Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.

“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”

You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.

“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances. 

“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”

“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”

“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.” 

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras? 

The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.

About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”

Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”

“You two have gotten close?”

Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”

A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”

“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.” 

Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues. 

“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it. 

“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now. 

“I said ‘you should stay’-”

“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”

“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones. 

“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”

“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.

“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.

“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”

“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!” 

“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.

“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.” 

All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.

“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.

Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber. 

After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings. 

Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening. 

“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”

Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.

“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”

Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.” 

And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home. 

[rookiesbookies]

“so what if I sucked his dick. his knuckles were split and bloody from defending my safety and my honor what else was I supposed to do”

With my boys (141+Konig+Keegan)

Price

Price is not a man to bring violence into his domestic life. He just refuses to. He has the gun under the couch and the hand gun in his bedside table, and that’s all the violence at home he needs.

HOWEVER.

The night you both had gone on a nice date and decided to end the night at a pub he was just having a good time. He didn’t want to be bothered. He was having a nice time.

When he watched the guy come up behind the two of you slurring, he was already set on edge. When the man grabbed your ass? There was zero hesitation.

Punch landed square between the poor guys eyes, John took a long sip of his drink and left a $100 on the table to cover any problems and the two drinks you both had, before taking you by the hand and leaving.

The man had a thick skull and Price honestly just ignored the fact that he had clearly probably broken a bone in his hand because the head you were giving him made it all so worth it.

Soap

Surprisingly, it was not a random person he punched.

He and Gaz had gotten into a petty argument. It shouldn’t have started, really.

Apparently Gaz made some snarky comment about Soap’s girl. It was before Gaz and his girlfriend had started dating so he didn’t have a woman to put him in his place over the shitty comment.

Johnny, however, was happy to oblige.

It took both Ghost and Price to pull him off Gaz, who was luck Soap only got a few good hits in. Soap was sent home like a kid from school and John stapled a note to his shirt explaining what had happened.

What Captain John Price didn’t expect, however, was for you to reward this behavior.

Little kitten licks and fluttering kisses up and down his length, tell him how proud you were he defended you before giving him the sloppiest of his life.

He brain melted, Soap had half the mind to punch Gaz for it again next time he saw him just to see if she would reward him again.

Ghost

Oh, he had considered strangling your ex more than once. But he caught him at your doorstep when he had just gotten back from a mission.

He wasn’t Simon yet. He was still Ghost.

So when the fucker was banging on your door, he was happy he had insisted on getting you a better front door lock. He could see you running to your bedroom, probably to get the handgun he kept under the dresser.

He almost wanted to call you and tell you not to bother.

He tore the man away from the door and just went ham. It wasn’t until you returned and looked out the window to see what had happened that Simon held up the man bloody and bruised and passed out.

Simon shoved the dude in whatever car he came in before driving to the middle of nowhere and leaving an only mildly threatening note, before having you pick him up.

When you went from kissing the splits and blood from his knuckles ot undoing his belt, he was so grateful his old square body had a bench seat.

The death grip on the steering wheel was the only thing keeping him sane. Almost pulling over to cum in your mouth but he had pulled into yalls shared driveway before he even realized. He had probably been doing felony speeds.

He took off his mask for the first time since he got home and planted soft kisses on your face. He mumbled something about not needing to reward Ghost for his usual behaviors between pecks.

Konig

Being the big bad colonel’s sweet little wife had its perks. Walking around the base with no problems, getting to spend all day chilling in his lap, never having to be far from him.

The worst time of year was when Konig had to deal with new recruits, who were already older gentlemen but clearly weren’t raised right and who didn’t understand how things worked in his base.

So when one of the recruits was pushing you around, getting too close and touchy, Konig didn’t hesitate.

One big swing, but that wasn’t enough. Konig was going to make an example of him.

Drug him out to the front of the base and gathered all of the recruits and made a scene. He made an example.

Dude got pummeled by Konig.

You honestly didn’t need to give him head, the satisfaction of putting that man in the med bay was enough. But when the idea left your sweet lips he would never refuse.

His bloody knuckles lovingly rubbing your face and massaging your hair as you struggle to fit it in your mouth, giving him big doe eyes? Its his favorite.

Keegan

Also punched a teammate. You had been brought on base for a celebration, everyone was in all their formal uniforms and outfits.

He had stayed sober, unlike most of his teammates.

Most of them didn’t have any women of their own.

Keegan just found out why.

It was a random Sargent from a different group, clearly hadn’t let you get a word out and just kept talking. Too drunk to realize that if you were here you were probably a spouse.

Keegan just gave him a nice smack to the gut, which ended up making the guy projectile vomit in the middle of the festivity room.

Someone definitely over-served by this dude.

But the way you kissed away the littlest bits of blood from Keegan’s had since his dry knuckle had caught on one of the guys pins and tore open. Made his heart melt.

I guess it melted into his dick because he knew EXACTLY what was happening when you pulled him away and down an empty and dark hall.

Oh he loved the way your lips kissed around him, living lipstick in their wake, before leaving a nice colored ring of it around his shaft.

Oh he’d wear it too proudly. Makes jokes about never washing his dick again.

Gaz

You and Gaz were in a booth on a double date with Soap and his girl. Simple date, just chilling. Soap was making jokes about how Kyle totally had a glow up now that he’s met his girl and about how Kyle probably understands why Johnny punched him for the comment a couple months back. (See Soap’s for an explanation)

However, that story just reminded Gaz, and gave him a good idea.

He mumbled something about still needing to get back at Soap for it. Also mumbling about how his nose still isn't right and his jaw still pops

One swift punch, Kyle was back how he was sitting before like it never even happened.

However the head he got in the family bathroom for that punch being hot while Soap and his girl thought Kyle had an emergency bathroom trip while his girl was changing her pad was crazy.

He almost broke the changing table off the wall with how he was gripping it.

Truly life changing.

Almost hit Soap again when they got back to the table.

Masterlist is pinned on my account as always and requests are open.

[ponderingmoonlight]

would you be able/want to do something with gojo where him and the reader are both teachers and are in an established relationship but the student (aside from megumi) don’t know and start trying to figure out who gojo’s in a relationship with? i feel like gojo would either mess with them or be honest that it’s you but they just don’t believe him cause. yk. it’s you?

Hey, thank you so much for that great request, it was really fun to write! I mixed it up a little with an already existing fic of mine, I hope you don't mind. Let me know what you think <3

Part l to this fic can be found here

Gojo going nuts when his students don't believe him that you are his wife

Pairing: husband!Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: When Satoru wears his wedding ring for the first time in front of his students, Nobara can't help but wonder who he's married to. But when Gojo confesses it's you, his students just don't believe him.

Warnings: language, sad Gojo lol, this is an absolute comfort fanfic so there you go if that's what you need today, read part l if you haven't yet <3

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3

„Itadori!“ Nobara hisses through gritted teeth.

“Did you just see that?”

“What do you mean?”, Yuji remarks with doe-eyes, gazing up at her with no clue what she’s even talking about.

“That ring on Gojo-sensei’s finger, you idiot”, she barks back at him while frantically running to the door in order to catch one last glimpse at him.

“Is he by any chance married, Fushiguro?”

Megumi signs to himself, staring at Nobara in nothing but annoyance. That talk from last week where she literally forced you to describe Gojo still doesn’t sit right with him. Of course, Megumi knows about your relationship. After all, he’s been with both of you for many years now, witnessed countless times how Gojo caresses your cheek gently in the darkness of privacy, how he calls you “darling” around the house and passes out on the couch next to you 10 minutes into a movie. And even though both of you never talked about this whole marriage being private thing, Megumi simply refuses to talk about your love life – even with his friends.

“I have no idea. But maybe minding your own business will help with your complexion or something”, Megumi bites back.

All of the sudden, Nobara smacks the back of his head hard.

“Hey, that’s pretty mean, you don’t have to be so rough!” Yuji complains in an instant.

“Both of you, shut up. I will just ask him when he returns. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“There are actually a lot of reasons not to tell you…”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH FUSHIGURO!”

“Huh, what’s going on here? I’ve been gone for a minute and you’re already smacking your heads?”

Casually, Satoru sits down behind is desk, long legs stretched out in front of him while nipping at the coffee you just made him. Oh, how much he loves to pay you a small visit during work. Just to be assured that you’re fine, that the second years don’t get on your nerves while training them. He just loves to adore you from afar. Yes, and the minute he gets home, you’re all his and his alone.

“You’re wearing a ring on your finger”, Nobara suddenly blurts out.

Satoru tils his head to the side, gaze wandering over his wedding ring. While he normally never wears it in fear of losing it during some stupid mission, today is your anniversary. The urge to proudly show off his ring became much greater than any anxiety. Also, today is a teaching only day and he’ll return home with you by his side after this lesson is over. The things he has planned for both of you tonight…He smirks to himself, joyful like a child when thinking about the surprise that’s waiting for you at home.

“Gojo-sensei!”

Megumi’s urgent voice rips him out of his daydreams.

“So what? A ring has many meanings”, Satoru replies calmly.

You never talked about this. While you seem to silently agree that showing each other affection at Jujutsu High isn’t what you want and that you are keen to keep your relationship private, you never talked this through. Last week when you described Satoru Gojo so well as your favourite type of men, you never said his name once, probably turned completely red when Yuji mentioned it so casually.

“Yeah, like being married for example!”

“Maybe I am, who knows?”

Satoru intertwines his fingers behind the back of his head, smirking at Nobara who is close to lose her mind widely.

“Maybe you should leave him alone…”, Yuji suggests in hushed tones.

“Maybe you should shut up, Itadori. This is far too important to let it slide!”

“You are way too dramatic about this.”, Megumi comments dryly.

“You guys just don’t understand the magic behind this!”

“So you want to know what this ring means?”

Nobara’s eyes light up in an instant, filled with so much unveiled curiosity that Gojo can’t help but wonder why she is never this invested when it comes to learning.

“Please tell me!”

Let’s see what happens.

“This is my wedding ring. I’m married to (y/n) for three years by now.”

Thick silence, utter speechlessness. The expression on Nobara’s face is so priceless that the urge inside Satoru to take a picture and show it to you later almost becomes unbearable.

“What’s up, Kugisaki? Did you see a ghost?”

“There’s no way in hell this is true”, Nobara mutters into Yuji’s ear, which earns a serious nod from the pink-haired boy.

Wait, what? Satoru furrows his eyebrows while gazing at the girl in front of him in disbelief. What did she just say?

“Why on earth couldn’t this be true, huh?”, he barks at her, hands clenched into fists.

“(y/n) is a real sweetheart with great taste. I just don’t think she would get involved with someone like you. Also, she said that she likes muscular man. And she never wore a ring”, Nobara explains briefly, earning a death stare from Satoru Gojo himself.

Both Yuji and Nobara eye him up and down, critical expression plastered on their faces while whispering unclear things into each other’s ear.

Satoru is on the brick of losing it. Did his students just suggest that you are too good for him? And that he’s not muscular!?

“I am muscular!”, he cries out.

“Megumi-chan, tell them I’m married to (y/n).”

If the ground would be able to swallow Megumi whole, he would take that offer in an instant. They already discussed this stupid matter for over 10 minutes now, when will the lesson finally start?

“Don’t drag me into this. Just do your job”, Megumi mumbles in annoyance.

Of course, Satoru is very aware of the fact that you are striking gorgeous, popular even beyond the boundaries of Jujutsu High. Damn, even here there might be some men who’d want you. But he is the strongest, he is good-looking, he is funny…Why on earth wouldn’t you be married to him?

“See? Nice try Gojo-sensei, but we don’t fall for your shit.”

He can’t believe his ears, face so red that Megumi slides back in his chair just in chase.

“You brats have absolutely no idea what love actually is! I won’t let you tell me who I’m married to or not!”, Satoru spits at his students, catching the attention of you.

Huh, what’s going on inside that classroom? You were on your way to grab some cursed weapons to show Maki, but the way your husband’s furious voice is heard through the entire hall makes you stop in front of his slightly opened door.

“Why are you screaming around here, Sir?”, you question, gazing at Nobara in confusion as she almost breaks down in tears from laughing her ass off.

“(y/n), darling, tell my students that you are my wife!”, Satoru demands.

Is that why he’s so stressed, because he wanted to tell his students that the both of you are married? What is going on here?

“I already told him multiple times we don’t believe him. Last week you said you like muscular man-“

“I AM MUSCULAR!”

You desperately try to hold back a laughter, the stressed out look on your husband’s face being enough to let a little giggle escape your lips. How on earth did that topic even pop up? Your gazer wanders to the wedding ring on his cramped finger, heart filling with warmth in an instant. Oh, he really wears it.

“Maybe he’s wearing that ring only for attention…”, Nobara whispers into Yuji’s ear.

“This is getting ridiculous”, Megumi comments.

“Why don’t we all just calm down a little? Your lesson started 15 minutes ago, why are you still arguing around?”, you playfully throw at your husband.

Despite the fact that you want to throw yourself in his arms right away, you keep your cool composure. This is what he gets for picking on you last week. You’ll make him suffer just the way he did it to you.

“You are supposed to help me with this!”, he complains.

“I am supposed to work right now”, you reply sweetly before turning on your heels and closing the door.

You can’t hold back any longer. Tears start to tickle in your eyes, that priceless look on his face. Oh god, you can’t stop laughing. This evening will definitely be entertaining.

-in the evening-

“Hello, stranger”, you playfully greet your husband as soon as he returns from work, blue orbs almost piercing through you.

“You are supposed to help me! Why didn’t they believe me? I’m I really that much of a downgrade compared to you?”

That little pout forming on his delicate face warms your heart in an instant.

“Maybe it’s better this way. I like to enjoy my time with you in privacy. Nice try though”, you playfully remark, your hands gently running through his soft white hair.

Suddenly he grabs your legs, pulling your body up in the air while all you can to is shriek and laugh out lough. He carries you into the bedroom, letting your body fall onto the soft mattress.

“I will make you pay for not helping me out today you traitor.”

“Then I’m happy to be a traitor.”

[lev1hei1chou]

Cafe Drama

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo loves drama when he’s not the center of it Masterlist

"BABE, YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED!"

You almost dropped your phone. Not a hello, not even a 'Hey, how are you?' Just Gojo, screaming into the phone, voice filled with eagerness.

"Satoru, what—"

"So I was on this mission, right?" he interrupts, not bothering to wait for you response. "And I decided to take a break at this cute little cafe. You know the type, rustic charm, overpriced lattes, the works."

"Uh-huh," You reply, already grinning because you know this is going to be good.

"Okay, so I’m sitting there, minding my own business, trying to decide between a macchiato and a cappuccino—very important stuff, obviously—when suddenly, BAM! The couple at the table next to me starts arguing."

You can almost see his eyes sparkling with glee as he recounts this. Gojo loves drama when he’s not the center of it.

"So, naturally, I tune in. It’s like my own private soap opera. The guy’s all like, 'I can’t believe you did that!' and she’s like, 'Well, maybe if you paid more attention to me instead of your stupid phone!' Classic stuff. Anyway, they’re getting louder and louder, and I’m just sitting there, sipping my coffee, trying not to laugh."

"Of course you were," You chuckle, shaking your head. "You love a good train wreck."

"Exactly! But it gets better. The guy stands up, and I think he’s going to storm out, but no. He leans in, gets all serious, and says, 'You’re being irrational.' Which, by the way, never helps. She stands up too, and I’m like, 'Oh boy, here we go.' She picks up her glass of juice—orange, if you’re wondering—and I’m thinking, 'No, she wouldn’t.' But she did. SHE DID, BABE!"

"She threw the juice?"

"Right in his face! Full-on, slow-motion movie style. It was beautiful. Juice everywhere. The guy’s just standing there, dripping, looking like a soggy, defeated puppy. And the whole cafe goes silent."

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, picturing the scene in your head. "Did anyone say anything?"

"Oh, the barista tried to act professional, but you could tell she was dying inside. Everyone’s just staring, and the guy, poor guy, he wipes his face and says, 'You know what? I don’t need this.' And then he slips on the juice! He didn’t fall, but it was close. Very close. He regained his dignity just enough to leave the cafe without actually hitting the floor."

You're laughing so hard now, with tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "Did you do anything? Or just watch?"

"Me? Oh, I applauded."

"No you didn’t!"

"I did! How could I not? It was a stellar performance. I gave her a standing ovation. I think she appreciated it, too. She bowed before storming out. Quite the exit. Ten out of ten."

You could barely breathe. "Only you, Gojo, would turn someone’s breakup into your own personal entertainment."

"Hey, I’m just here to enjoy the show life puts on for me. And to share it with you, of course. How’s your day going? Any juice-throwing incidents I should know about?"

"Sadly, no. My day has been quite boring compared to yours. Just paperwork and a slightly burnt grilled cheese."

"Tragic. I’ll have to take you to that cafe sometime. Maybe we’ll get lucky and see round two."

"As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll pass on the drama. But thank you for the update, babe. You always know how to make my day."

"Anything for you, babe. Now, tell me more about this grilled cheese situation. Burnt, you say? Sounds like a crisis."

You giggled, settling back into the couch, feeling the warmth of his ridiculous story still lingering. "Well, it started with the toaster oven malfunctioning..."

[reve-writes]

—the set-up; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,8k words. ʚ from this request. | three times the crows plan to set you and kaz up + the one time they find out you're married. ʚ fluff; the crows are featured (incl. wesper & helnik ship); kaz's touch aversion isn't featured. ʚ a/n this has been sitting in the drafts for a bit. ive been suffering down the leon brainrot hole (honestly an excellent one to fall into). kaz calls reader schatje (i have a fic where he does this. i chose schatje because ketterdam is loosely inspired from 1500s-1700s amsterdam!). i wrote this in a goofy way honestly.

one. he smiles.

Wylan fiddles with jars and tubes filled with an assortment of chemicals—some of them tend to explode, all of them horrible smelling. He's supposed to be on guard duty and he prefers it over running around guns blazing alongside Jesper—as much as he loves the sharpshooter, gunshots give him a lot of anxiety.

He peers into the room where most of the work is happening.

You are poring over stacks of documents, eyes scanning quickly top-to-bottom to find relevant information. Kaz has his ear pressed against the front of a safe, gloved hand twisting the lock. You move around him in the cramped office space with relative ease, grabbing more files to read on the desk.

It doesn't take long for the safe to swing open.

“No safe is safe from Kaz Brekker, the safe-cracker, huh?” you comment. A light, teasing smile decorates your lips.

“Please never say that sentence again.”

To Wylan's surprise, the ever-frowning Dirtyhands smiles. Not the half-hearted hospitable smile he occasionally gives out, or the scary half-sneer half-smirk that is so intimidating it scares even Wylan sometimes. No, a genuine, amused smile. It is so unnatural that he has to look away, a hand clasped over his mouth in shock.

When he tells Jesper, the taller man mirrors his reaction, dark eyes blown wide and jaw unhinged.

“He smiled?” Jesper gives an incredulous stare as if Wylan has just told him that he is a member of the Council of Tide—which is impossible with Wylan's lack of Grisha ability, let alone tidemaking. “He smiled over that?”

Wylan nods enthusiastically.

“We are talking about the same Kaz?”

“Are there any other Kaz that we know?” Wylan sighs.

“Well, no—”

“I think we have to proceed with the plan,” Wylan ponders. Jesper blinks widely.

“The plan?”

“Nina's plan!” Wylan looks at Jesper as if he's just gotten a strike of inspiration, hand in the air, pointing at nothing in particular. “Operation Kaz and ____. Remember?”

Jesper remembers. It was so ridiculous that it remains impossible to remove from his memory to this day, even though it was mentioned in passing.

Nina, flushed red from too many drinks, suddenly shoots her hand up, flailing it limply. The founder of the idea seems to have a plan ready to set in motion.

“We are the gods of love!” She drunkenly declares, free hand moves to tap Wylan's cheeks repeatedly. “And as the benevolent gods that we are, our first mission is them.”

Nina pushes Wylan's face towards you and Kaz, sat at the bar, deep in conversation. The rest of the Crows followed suit, realising Nina's suggestion. She stumbles over drunkenly and with little-to-no care on making it look as natural or accidental as she can, "trips" over her foot and falls forward.

You take the brunt of the force, being pushed forward that you fall onto Kaz. The latter glares at Nina, hand coming to your shoulder to steady you.

“My bad.... It seems I've lost my balance,” she slurs. “Oh! Would you look at that? The two of you would make quite a pair, don't you think so, Matthias?”

Matthias raises an eyebrow, already hauling Nina with him to get back to their table.

“Poor Helvar,” says Kaz simply, nudging you to get back on the barstool.

“He doesn't seem to mind,” you retort, noting Matthias' loving gaze as he escorts Nina.

It doesn't take long before the chaos settles, leaving you and Kaz, still engaging in conversation as the last patrons leave the Crow Club.

“We would make a good pair, huh?” You tease, reaching over to brush your hand against his, leather soft under your palm. “You think so?”

Kaz looks at you pointedly, tugging your left hand towards him, fingers pressing on the small diamond adorning your ring finger. “Would I have given you this, if I didn't?”

Smooth with his words without even trying. A trait you find both annoying and endearing after all the years you've been together.

“I mean you have a lot of diamonds lying around—”

“Schatje.”

“Yes?” All train of thought immediately halts on its tracks. The petname has a hold over you that he oh-so-often uses as leverage. You pout. “Stop distracting me.”

He smiles—soft and uncharacteristic, contradictory to the harsh rasp of his voice and the rough scars on his skin. He smiles a smile he reserves only for your eyes, and you're falling for it, a hundred times over.

two. the demjin.

You don't like when Kaz gets like this—all wrung up over a waivable matter. It reminds you a lot of what he had to be before, the things he had to do and what Dirtyhands actually stood for. Not at all akin to the Kaz Brekker you know—the one who immediately comes whenever one of your crew is threatened, the one who stays up with you as you wait for the rest of your little heist crew to return, the one who goes out of his way to collect little trinkets to bring home to you.

You are hurt, shallow cuts all over your body from a little dagger scuffle with a mercenary, but you're a member of the Dregs—this, you can take. A little Heartrender magic and some bandages, you will recover in no time.

“You're back.”

Kaz stops and you look over him to find his knuckles bloodied, hair stuck out of place and clothes disheveled.

“You're alright, schatje?”

His room at the Slat isn't big contrary to popular belief. He sinks into his chair with a huge sigh. You're watching him three steps away from the edge of his bed.

“What did you do?”

He shrugs, tugging his coat off. “Business.”

“You went after them.”

“It was one part of the business.” He pulls at his gloves, shedding them into the trash—too bloodied for him to bother cleaning. “Are you sure you're alright?”

You tuck your hands into your elbows, displeasure visible across your features. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“Kaz.”

“They deserved it,” he stubbornly says. “I had to make sure they know not to involve themselves with us. You understand. Besides, I'm alright.”

“I do understand,” you relent. It is business. The Barrell doesn't stop for poets or musicians or lovers, no, it thrives off of the back of violence, taking an eye for an eye. “I just wish that you were here when I woke up.”

His shoulders loosen and he is your Kaz again. Not the one molded by Ketterdam, birthed at its harbour. He's the man so in love that he will dry the seas for you if you say the word. Kaz takes your hands. They are warm on his skin and his heart swells.

“I am sorry, schatje.”

You kneel in front of him, leaning your elbows on his thighs to press a brief kiss on his lips. “Let's stay off business for a while.”

“Kaz?” A sound outside the door, followed by three raps. “Are you in there?”

“He is, Jesper. Give us a moment,” you reply.

You hear hushed whispers—both low voices, so you assume it's Wylan. Your suspicion is confirmed when the second voice sounds from behind the door.

“No, we—no, Jes—don't have anything urgent. We simply wanted to know if he is well. Take your time. We'll be going now.”

“Good night, Wylan,” you reply, immediately hearing fading footsteps soon after.

“Fifty kruge says they're already together,” says Jesper, out of your earshot.

Wylan rolls her eyes. “Fifty on them not dating yet.”

Jesper immediately clasps Wylan's hand with a loud “Deal!”

iii. the marketplace.

“Busybodies,” Kaz complained, walking a step behind you as you're treading through the Ketterdam food market. “They are not even hiding. In broad daylight. How have they never gotten caught before?”

“Kaz, my love.” You are trying not to laugh as you're picking and choosing fruits. “They usually do a better job on actual missions.”

They refer to your five lovely friends who have decided to tail you as you're coming down to the market. Kaz is the first to take notice—blurry figures moving erratically ten steps behind you.

“I should assign them something to do instead of... whatever it is they're currently doing.”

“They're curious.” You shrug, handing over a few slips of Kruge to the seller and leaving with your bag five apples heavier. “We've been acting suspicious lately. They'll find out soon enough.”

“I'll bet Inej finds out first.” Kaz nudges your fingers with his, taking the bag from you as he matches his step with yours. “The Wraith does a better job at spying.”

“My bet is Matthias.” An unlikely one. He's probably the least nosy out of the five.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a small nook, squuezed between buildings and he presses a kiss on your lips. One turns to two and you're smiling like a lovesick fool when he pulls away.

“We're being followed and you pull this?”

“Schatje, our pursuers are horrendously bad at this.” He shrugs, pulling away. You resume your trek through the market. “Look. They've lost us.”

iv. the marriage certificate.

“Fake IDs,” Kaz says, pointing at the towering Fjerdan. “You'll be collecting them from Anika.”

Matthias doesn't mind running errands, although he does think that he'll be better suited for physical fights other than fetching papers, but he doesn't argue. It seems he is doing more than simply fetching papers though.

“That is real?” He asks Anika, pointing at a marriage certificate she has on her desk. Marriage certificates are mundane enough not to warrant this type of reaction, but it is the name that shocks even him to the core. Kaz Brekker and you, married?

“As real as can be around here.” Anika scrambles to hide it away. “Here are your IDs. Don't tell anyone about it.”

In Matthias' defense, he doesn't end up telling just anyone. He tells Nina and Nina is the one telling everyone else. Within a week, every member of the Crows have known about it.

Wylan hands Jesper slips of fifty kruge, grumbling that this is unfair. Nina looks like spring has just arrived. Inej is probably the least reactive—but that is because she's already found out long before the others. She's the Wraith after all. Matthias is anxious. For all everyone knows, he is the one responsible for the news.

You strut into the dining room, seeing everyone gathered and raise an eyebrow.

“Why are you all here?”

“We want to ask—”

Before Nina can finish her sentence, Jesper blurts out. “You're married?”

You chuckle, shrugging. “You found out.”

“How long?”

“Kaz? Really?”

“How did that happen?”

A series of questions that you don't actually answer. You stand there, leaning on the back of one of the wooden chairs situated in the room—remorseless to your very core.

“Ask him about it.”

That ends the discussion. None of them will actually ask him about it and even if any of them actually finds the courage to, the likelihood of Kaz answering anything that's not a sarcastic remark or a threat is close to none.

“How did you find out anyway?”

Everyone points towards Matthias and to the Fjerdan's horror, Nina's pointer finger finds him, too.

You only smile, silently planning to brag to your spouse that you've won your bet.

[ ].

[waves-against-a-cliff]

She-Wolf - Feral!Reader x Ghost

Content Warnings - Violence, blood, descriptions of murder, smut, afab!fem!reader

Description - Soap notices something new about Ghost.

A/N - here it is @groguspicklejar I finally made it.

That's new.

Soap has never seen that before. In the military you get used to the general disregard for privacy. You shower together, sleep in the same place together, eat together and bleed together. So Soap has gotten used to the bodies of those around him. But also, he's always noticed when things on his teammates' bodies changed.

Like when Gaz got that new scar on his thigh. And like now, with a tattoo on Ghost. Which is odd, he's never seen a new one on him before, always that same sleeve. Weirder still... Is that a tattoo of a bite on his left arse cheek?

For a moment, Soap thinks his eyes are deceiving him so he rubs them. Ah fuck- his hands had soap on them. Fuckfuckfuck. He rinses his eyes out and then looks over at Ghosts arse again. No, that's definitely a tattoo of a bite, a nasty one too. Like someone just tried to get as much as his arse cheek in his mouth at once.

Soap jabs Gaz in the ribs, "What the fuck?" Gaz hissed but Soap redirects his attention.

"Do you see that?'

"Ghosts ass? Yes I've seen it before." Gaz replies but Soap shakes his head.

"No you dumb fuck, look closer."

Gaz squints and gasps. "Oh my God."

Soap grins at him, "I know. Hold on, I'm gonna ask him about it."

"Soap-"

"Hey LT." Ghost turns his head, a single brow raised. Soap had never been more grateful that Ghost had decided to suck up the communal showers. For both this moment and not having to deal with the vague smell of his BO on the flight back to the U.K. “What's with the new tattoo?”

“Yeah my girl’s a biter.” It's said so simply, Ghost turns and resumes washing himself. The soap suds run down his body and into the drain. Like he didn’t just say the most confusing shite ever.

“What?” Gaz laughs, “A biter?” Ghost shrugs and it dawns on Soap that he’s going to pull that classic Ghost move of saying out of pocket shite ever and then not elaborate.

A few months pass and Soap would like to say that he’s forgotten about it. That the bite mark tattoo did not haunt him and he didn’t- doesn’t- look at Ghost’s left butt cheek and wonder. Then they get a new mission and its all hands on deck, another task force joins in. Task force Medea. The 141 had worked with them a few times in the past, all very successful missions. The Medea task force was made up of seven women with varying skills but one always came to mind whenever Soap thought of the task force his mind wandered to She-wolf.

You’re wild, feral almost to a degree that makes him wonder how you managed to stay in the military. But your team members love you and when you’re not gnawing at the collar your captain tries to keep on you, you’re an amazing soldier.

“For this mission,” Price begins, standing at the head of the meeting table. On one side is Gaz, Ghost, and him. On the other is you and three other members of your task force (Viper, Circe and Artemis). Soap splits his attention between Price’s briefing (A terrorist group and cartel are working together to smuggle both weapons and people across the Polish and the Slovakian border) and you. You’re tapping your finger inaudibly, you keep glancing between Price and Ghost.

Despite having worked with you before, Soap tends to forget the gruesome details. Viper and Circe were brutal in their own right, both combining their skills to gas out anyone in the building, Artemis and Ghost picked off the ones that fled. Now it was down to you and Soap to help clear out the building of any stragglers. Soap knew he was good at clearing rooms, it's how he got his call sign after all. But much like your call sign, you were a wolf. Predatory, sneaky and brutal. If you were a dog, he was sure you would be foaming at the mouth.

Soap tries not to focus on the gory details of your current appearance, (blood flecks on your face, hands soaked with blood after you gutted a man twice your size like a fish, blood smears on your pant legs from a man choking on his own blood and grasping for any sort of life line while you sneer at him), and instead clearing out the last room. 

“Steamin’ jesus.” Soap mutters and Gaz noticeably averts his eyes. Ghost, however, sighs.

“Lieutenant.” You chirp as Viper hands you something to clean your face with.

“Do you ever not make a mess She-Wolf?” Ghost asks and you bark out a laugh as you wipe the dried blood from your face.

“Nope.” You quip as he just sighs and Soap turns his attention to Gaz who is certainly not looking like he was enjoying this any more then he was.

Your fingers dig into his pecs as you pant, your thighs, already sore from the mission, scream. “Did you like seeing me like that?” You ask between pants as you bounce on Ghost’s thick cock. You swear you can feel every detail of it, the veins rubbing against your walls, his tip constantly swiping against your g-spot and the very weight of him. “Did you like seeing me covered in blood?” You ask again as his hands dig into the meat of your hips. You stare down into his eyes that are swallowed up by his blown out pupils as he nods, a whimper crawls up his throat as your nails dig into him further.

You lean over and scrape your teeth against the junction between his shoulder and neck, you revel in the way he shudders. You bite down right as the thread snaps inside you and you gush all over his cock. Your moan around him as your pussy pulses rhythmically around him, your hips slow only for a moment. Instead you grind your hips against his as the last few shocks of your orgasm echo through your body. Ghost doesn’t move as you ravish him further in marks all over him. You love that about him, that no one will know these marks are here but you. He covers himself up a nun and only you know that he’s under you every time.

Only you know that his voice cracks and he throws his head back as he fills you. “Fuuuckkk.” He whimpers, his voice cracking and breaking. Only you know this view, of tears nearly spilling from his eyes as his chest rises and falls faster as you push him further towards overstimulation. When your hips finally stop you collapse onto his chest, he holds you close as you trace the multitude of bite marks and crescent nail marks.

“Wish we got to see each other more often.” You whisper.

“We’ll see each other when leave comes around.” Ghost- Simon, reassures you.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that little tattoo you have.” You tease and pinch his vulnerable nipple. He hisses and smacks your hand away while you giggle.

[arminsumi]

hi! I hope you're doing well, i always look foward to your work <3

can i request gojo and geto being protective over you

drink lots of water!

Promise — 約束

SatoSugu ⋅ fem reader

NOTE — so sweet !! thank you, i'm so happy you look forward to my works :) i hope u like what i made of this, the idea just kinda happened

WARNINGS — angst with fluff / comfort (it's not actually sad the boys are just distressed because you got hurt), implied injury / near-death experience (reader)

" THEY WHAT ?! ARE THEY OUT OF THEIR MINDS ?! " Satoru yelled like you had never seen him yell before. He was seething, eyes ablaze.

" This has to be a mistake... oh, angel, don't cry, come here. " Suguru talked to you soothingly.

You had come to them and told them the news through chokes and sniffles. It stung their hearts to see you so petrified.

An especially frightening mission had been assigned to you. Usually, these two overprotective boys tagged along with you or just did it themselves to save you the burden and pain of using your straining technique. But that wasn't an option this time, for some reason.

" I have a bone to pick. " Satoru grumbled, storming off violently.

Suguru had been practically cradling you in his arms to try and soothe your nerves.

" Satoru ! Don't do something rash — ah, shit, 'gotta go after that madman or he'll kill someone. Okay, you stay with Shoko, alright ? She's in the main hall by the vending machines. Relax. Satoru and I will sort everything out. Drink some water and rest — and no cigarettes with Shoko. "

So the boys went to complain to the higher ups, and though admittedly they were shaken up by Satoru's violently aggressive attitude, they didn't budge.

" ARE YOU ALL OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MINDS ?! "

" Satoru, calm down. " Suguru said. That's when Satoru finally calmed down.

" We're the strongest, let us take on this mission instead. " Suguru tried to reason.

Satoru's voice subtly shook when he spoke, residual anger lingering in his throat. His heart was beating heavily. " Y/n's weak. " he said. A harsh truth. " Too weak to take on a special-grade like that. "

Suguru tended to butter you up and call you strong, but Satoru was brutally truthful; you were much, much weaker than the both of them. Ever since they had met you, they felt this overwhelming urge to protect you with their lives.

Then they tried to convince the higher ups that you were " too weak " to do it. But they still didn't budge. In fact they glowered at the two students.

" You think I can't do it myself ! I'm a fucking god ! I could snap that thing in half with my fingertips ! " Satoru went into a sudden self-induced power trip, but Suguru stood besides him and silently agreed. Of course he could do it himself, he was Gojo Satoru.

Storming off again, Satoru left to go find you. And Suguru followed after his steps.

" Shoko ? Where did Y/n go ? She was supposed to be with you. "

" . . . uh, she walked right past me earlier and when I asked where she was headed, she said something about Roppongi ? " Shoko had her head in her hands and a lit cigarette between her fingers.

" God fucking damn it, that idiot. " Satoru's heart panged with worry.

" Save some limbs for me to rip off. " Suguru joked.

" Let's go get her. " Suguru said.

" I swear to fuck . . . I'll fucking rip that thing to limb by limb if it even so much as grazes her skin. " Satoru seethed.

" You two are gonna get reprimanded for this, you know. "

Satoru waved his hand dismissively and left with Suguru.

You were in the midst of battle, bleeding and panting. Covering your ears, you were just about to succumb to your paralyzing fear when suddenly your two saviors sliced right into the scene. You caught a glimpse of the most feral, raw look in Satoru's eyes; pure vengeance, it was almost artful how he pulled apart the cursed spirit.

" Angel, it's okay now, We're here. " Suguru comforted you, lifting your limp body and holding it like a baby. " You did good. Don't try to move, you must be in a lot of pain. I've got you, don't worry. Oh — Satoru, that was quick. Are you trying to show off for her ? Just teasing. "

You listened to the lullaby-like voice of Suguru and let your eyes flutter shut. The last image in your vision was that of a panting, blue-eyed boy who looked so startled to see you in poor condition. He looked about ready to cry.

Their voices sounded like distant echoes to you as you drifted into a half-conscious state, leaning more on the unconscious side.

" . . . I could kill those old fucks right now. "

" Satoru, calm down. She's going to be alright. Let's just get her to Shoko. "

" I hate seeing her like this. "

" Me too. But she'll be okay. "

" Angel, still with us ? Satoru, just breathe. She's really going to be okay. Don't cry or you'll make me cry, too. "

" Sh-she's so damn stubborn. Stubborn a—nd st-stupid. Why'd you run off by yourself like that. Y-you stupid weakling . . . "

You could hear Satoru distantly crying, and he didn't stop until after Shoko tended to you. The boys kept close, soothingly stroking your arms and cheeks to keep you conscious.

Nothing can explain the relief they felt when they saw you stirring-to again.

" Hey, sleepyhead. " Suguru's tender smile was the first thing you saw.

Satoru's lips were parted, his face paler than ever. He looked so relieved and yet shocked to the bone, like he'd just gone through the worst day of his life.

" Welcome back to the land of the living. " Shoko greeted, cleaning up the blood on your cheek. " You know, you made the boys cry. Satoru even had a snotty nose like a little kid. "

" Shut up . . . "

Satoru heard how dry your throat was when you spoke, and promptly shoved his half-full water bottle in your face, hastily drying his eyes on his uniform sleeve. Like the in-sync duo they were, they worked together to help you drink; Suguru held the back of your head, and Satoru tilted the water bottle into your mouth. Of course he spilled a bit, two rivulets of water went down either side of your jawline and tickled your neck.

" . . . was just . . . trying to show you two . . . that I'm not weak . . . but I guess I am. I'm Sorry. " you choked, voice barely above a whisper.

Their hearts sunk deep.

" You're not weak . . . " Satoru choked up too, eyes only recently dried of tears and yet fresh ones began tipping over his bottom lid, wetting his angelic lashes. " You're not weak, I'm sorry I say that all the time. I shouldn't have . . . I just . . . would rather convince you you're weak so you'll call on us all the time, 'n n-never r—r-risk los—ing y—ou. " he suddenly sobbed at the end, realizing how deeply he cared for you.

Suguru was on the verge of tears, too, because of the sight of his best friend sobbing like a hurt puppy and also because of what he had just said.

" . . . don't cry, you two. A—ahah, Sh-Shoko don't you cry with them ! Or I'm gonna cr—yh. "

" Very graceful, Satoru. " Suguru joked.

" . . . thanks. " you thanked them.

" Don't say thank you. "

You could barely make out the complicated sentence that Suguru said next, it was something like;

" You'll never be undeserving of our protection. " and " So never say thank you. "

That day, they didn't just promise to keep you safe, they vowed it. Weak or not, strengthened or not, they felt compelled to be at your side.

Through the long passage of time, they never break their vow to keep you safe, even when Satoru and Suguru part paths. You're never an enemy to either of them, you're always their baby.

It's a tough reality to accept that one of your closest friends has become a murderous cult leader, and the other has become a lonely god. But they still visit you. Sometimes you three will hang out altogether in secret — so risky, but worth it, to see the two of them smiling with you even though you had very few things to smile about during your adulthood.

The sweet, comforting feeling of the adolescent memories made with them carries through all the years.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[messylustt]

Hi! Can I request Miguel O’Hara x civilian reader. Where reader is Miguel’s dead wife and Gabriella’s mom and Miguel travels to another universe on a Mission and she mistakes him for her Miguel. And he’s just so out of it because he misses her sm.

my heart my HEART

COPIED DESIRE — miguel o’hara + reader: you aren’t miguel’s dead wife but he can’t let you go.

marks yandere behavior; non purposeful cheating?? (like just a kiss). wc 1.0k.

pt one. pt two.

“i’ve got it.” miguel says, bypassing jess to slip through the window. they were chasing down an anomaly, undercover in simple clothes of this universe, and as jess left to scout the other buildings, miguel found his way inside a rather nicely furnished apartment.

he tried to stay quiet, knowing that there could only be civilians here and the anomaly could be elsewhere. but as he walked down the hall, his foot stopped on something partially imbedded in the carpet. looking down he found a small lego piece and then he heard a voice.

“yeah…no, i’m not sure…mhm.” it sounded as though someone was talking on the phone, and as miguel trained into listening he froze, hearing the tone and softness he never thought he’d hear again.

you chuckle, walking out into the hallway, and when you see miguel you jump, placing your hand over your heart. you had just ended the call. “christ, miguel…i thought…i thought you weren’t coming home until later?”

miguel can only stare. you’re supposed to be dead. you…are dead. his gaze gets caught up in your details, his eyes impossibly softening as he takes note of you and your entirety. you looked beautiful.

and then you’re walking closer and before miguel can react you lean up and place a gentle kiss to his cheek, your hand coming out to place atop his bicep.

he meets your gaze and you smile. and miguel’s mind falters. “come on, i made some lunch for me…but i guess you can have some too.” you teasingly chuckle, beginning to walk away when miguel—without his minds permission—reaches out for, pulling you back as he can’t help but press his lips against yours.

is this a dream? miguel thinks it must be. because you shouldn’t be in his arms right now. but he can’t help but move his head against yours. you, of course, kiss back, thinking it’s your miguel. the one from this universe. with the ‘undercover’ clothes he looks the same.

you slightly break away from miguel, your smile still present. “rough day?” you ask with a tilt to your head. his hand comes out to touch your face, dragging down to your lips, as he just nods. that’s all he can do.

because this is wrong. you aren’t his. his version of you is dead. but oh you look so alike, so…similar. even with the way you’re head is tilting in a smile. it’s all too much for miguel.

“real rough.” he mutters before his hand is slipping to the back of your neck and pulling you back in. you tasted sweet, just as sweet as he remembered. and now he can’t back away, because you’re kissing him back, your hand is shifting to slip around his arm.

“the food’ll get cold.” you whisper against his lips. and miguel is still breathing hard, practically dazed. but then he hears the turn off keys, and remembers you aren’t his. miguel knows that it’s this universes version of him. you’re that miguel’s wife.

but miguel’s chest is beginning to heave at the thought of you leaving him again. he didn’t want you to leave. no. his grip slipped to your chin, pulling your head back to him as you had glanced to the door, confused.

no one else had a key besides miguel. your miguel. you had heard him mention details from his work, him working at alchimax as a scientist. you had heard of the new project and it’s risks. briefly of course, majority of it confidential.

but you caught things such as ‘other universes’, and ‘carbon copies’. and then it clicked, as you meet the gaze of the miguel who is holding you still. miguel can see the clogs turning in your brain. and he has the urge to shake his head. this becoming over far too soon.

he means you no harm, even if his grip on your chin is tightening, as he watches you realise. your mouth falls open, as you go to step back. “you’re not….”

but miguel can’t seem to let you go, bringing you back to him as he shakes his head. “no, please don’t…”

“no, get off me.” you struggle to get away. now you know. this isn’t your miguel.

“hey, hey.” miguel grabs your face, continuously shaking his head. he felt like something was getting ripped away. his heart, maybe? “it’s me.”

you shake your head. “no you’re…not miguel. not my miguel.”

“but…you’re…” he can’t get the words out because your gaze isn’t soft anymore, you aren’t looking at him with love. and you’re slightly confused as to why miguel still has an expression expressing that he does feel that—love.

you shake your head, grabbing his hands on your face, in preparation to remove them. “i’m not your version of me. you know that right?” because you had guessed that there was also a carbon copy of you back in his universe, and maybe he got confused.

but miguel is still shaking his head, bringing you closer to him. the front door has now been opened and closed as the voice of your universe’s miguel reaches both yours and miguel’s ears. “mi amor, sorry i’m home a bit earlier than planned.”

now, all miguel can see is red. he knew you weren’t his version of you, but upon hearing this other version of him calling you ‘mi amor’, part of him wanted to change that. you could love him, right? you love that version of him, loving another won’t be too difficult.

but no matter what made up reason miguel can say to himself, even he knows how fucked up this is. He shouldn’t even be thinking about it. to instead leave you be to live your own life. he wasn’t meant to meet you.

but as your miguel’s steps draw near, and as you go to call for him, miguel places a cloth over your mouth. this makes your eyes widen as you shake your head, your eyelids beginning to droop. the cloth was meant for emergencies. i’m sure this can count as one. “shh…” miguel whispers, his lips brushing your forehead, as you drop in his arms. “no…” you quietly mutter out.

“it’s okay…you’re okay…you’re okay.” miguel mutters. “you’re with me now…you’re gonna be fine…you are fine…god you’re okay…” miguel had continued muttering anything as his lips brushed your skin your eyes now closed. “you’re all…mine again…”

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[soap-ify]

i was wondering if you could write Price praising/body worshipping his girlfriend (the reader) for being so good even when he gets home from a mission? ᰔ She’s been so good waiting for him to get back and always listening to him in bed, he missed her so much and wants to thank her for everything she always does

instead of him coming home and crashing he’s so happy to be back with her and praises her endlessly while fucking her so good !

oh price would just be the sweetest!

cw — cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, soft sex he's so in love, subtle religious imagery.

this mission was a brutal one, grotesque images simply etched onto price’s head as he opened the door of his house, his mood nothing short of foul. that was until he smelled the comforting scent of his home and you that his mind started to clear a bit, features softening up out of pure adoration.

oh, you. he could never be less grateful, just so enamoured by how dear you were. quickly undoing his boots and putting them aside, he marched towards the bedroom, fully determined to thank you properly for waiting for him.

ending up in between your legs while he kneeled on the ground with all your clothes scattered besides him, he didn’t even let you greet him properly after you saw him, silencing all your worried questions with his mouth that was busy with your cunt, his tongue dragging up and down your sensitive clit deliberately slow while applying just the right amount of pressing, two thick fingers gently thrusting in and out of your warm hole, curling up inside to hit that sweet spot that made you moan oh so deliciously.

“been so good f’me, hm? such a sweetheart, always doing an amazing job taking care of everything while m’gone for work.” he mumbled and pulled away for a second, letting you catch a glimpse of his beard glistening with your wetness, those blue eyes of his half open and soft, looking at you so fondly.

he hated leaving you all alone in this house in agonising suspense whenever he’d be gone for missions, even after all the promises he’d make of coming back safe to you, promises he never broke. still, all the time away from you was simply torture. he needed to make it up to you, show you how lucky of a man he is.

diving back into your cunt, his fingers continued to thrust into you while his mouth latched onto your clit, gently sucking onto it until you came apart on his fingers, letting him patiently taste you up, the moans leaving your lips sounding nothing less than the songs sung by angels.

“oh, john…” you breathed heavily softly, your orgasm leaving your body feeling tingly, eyes looking down at price who was still on his knees, beginning to press soft kisses on your thighs now, moving down to kiss both your knees and calves, kissing you over and over, mumbling sweet praises to you — he adored and worshiped you as if you were his very goddess, which you were. he’d even get on the ground and kiss it to show how much you meant to him, how you are the holy light comforting the filthiness etched within him.

“you’re beautiful.” the smile adorning his lips made your heart skip a bit, watching him get up on his feet once more before climbing on top of you, gently easing you down onto the mattress. “i love you. fuck- i love you, sweetheart.” with a groan, he moved down to press some more kisses on your neck, making you feel the rough edges of his beard scratching your skin. “can never tell you enough of that, y'know? never.”

he nearly melted right there and then when he felt your fingers gently scratching his scalp, your breathing soothing his nerves. “my baby, i love you.” he just couldn’t stop repeating it, it almost hurt. he didn’t deserve you, didn’t deserve someone so perfect who was still willing to put up with a wrecked mess like him hidden beneath all that sternness.

“i love you too…” your voice came out quiet yet assured, brimming with nothing but pure love.

soft rustles of clothes could be heard as price got rid of his own a bit too eagerly, eyes fixed on you. “oh, fuck.” he grunted under his breath once his hand held the base of his cock, all girthy and already leaking almost pathetically. he gently tapped the tip of his cock on your puffy clit a few times, grinning at the little whine that escaped you before he finally aligned it against your tight hole, gently pushing it into your cunt. your warmth enveloped him, his hips stuttering just a bit once he was overcome with emotions, poorly hiding them.

“my sweet, sweet love.” slowly caging his strong arms around your head, he felt your legs wrap around his hips while he began to slowly thrust his girthy cock into you, fully pressed down on you. your hands dug into his back while his face was aligned with yours, giving him the perfect chance to press loving kisses on your forehead and nose.

his embrace felt like a prayer of its own, his thrusts not losing their momentum despite his body aching to go a bit faster. no, not today. it was all about you today, to give you all the gentle love he held deep within him. you could feel his bushy happy trail rubbing against your clit, making it a bit achy in a good way. he probably didn’t have time to trim it properly during deployment, and oh were you grateful.

“j-john, feels so good.” you moaned blissfully into his ear, pleasure coursing through every fiber of yours, your walls clenching around him with every kiss he gave to your face, drowning your moans once he pressed his lips to yours.

it wasn’t long until your orgasm came crashing down on you once again, washing over you pleasantly while you drenched his cock. he twitched inside you, grunting as his arms came down to wrap around you and pull you impossibly close, his head burying into your sweaty neck while he continued to fuck you until he felt his balls tighten, filling you up with his warm cum.

he wasn’t willing to get away from you after that, running you a warm bath and washing you while he kissed your tits, hands massaging your thighs with the foam of the soap, the sweet aroma of lavender lingering in the bathroom, both of you fully content.

[amakumos]

CUPID'S CHRONICLES — an enhypen smau series.

with the help of cupid's corner, a twitter account where you can send anonymous confessions to your crush, finding love is easy at decelis academy.

author's note. this series is recommended for you to read in order! please check the taglist status on the main post of a specific smau, not here. this post is just to organise all 7 smaus and put them all in one place to show that they're one series : ) taglists will be opened according to a specific smau, so unfortunately being tagged in general for all 7 won’t be possible :( apologies! please check the main post for EACH smau to know if the taglists are open, not here!

RIKI'S CONFESSION — CUPID'S CORNER (COMPLETE)

synopsis. because he’s a little shit, nishimura riki sends a totally embarrassing confession about you to “cupid’s corner”, a twitter account that posts anonymous confessions from decelis academy students. but when that joke confession suddenly makes a bunch of people confess to you on cupid’s corner (for real this time!) riki finds that he’s jealous — and oh… he can’t believe it took him a fake confession to realise that he’s crazily in love with you.

JUNGWON'S CONFESSION — CUPID'S CONFLICT (COMPLETE)

synopsis. as the man behind cupid's corner, jungwon is responsible for getting majority of the couples at decelis together (namely, riki and his girlfriend.) but there's one person that always gets in the way of half of the couples that jungwon sets up together — you. you are the polar opposite of yang jungwon, affectionately called "evil cupid" by your friends, as you have the unfortunate ability to break any couple up within a couple of weeks just by taking a picture with them. it's not intentional, you tell jungwon. what's also not intentional, is when jungwon finds himself crushing on you.

JAKE'S CONFESSION — CUPID'S CURE (ONGOING)

synopsis. as the new admins of cupid’s corner, gunwook and eunchae make it their mission to get back some of the couples that jungwon’s girlfriend had unintentionally broken up. one of the couples on their list are you and jake sim, also known as the self proclaimed “rizzler of oz”. you haven’t talked to jake since the breakup — because one, you don’t think you’re quite over him yet, and two, you have zero reason to speak to him! that is, until eunchae works her “magic” — she decides to post a confession (apparently coming from jake himself), saying that he still loves you.

HEESEUNG'S CONFESSION — CUPID'S CONNECTION (IN PLANNING.)

synopsis. the volleyball team is hell-bent on setting up lee heeseung with someone, but they don’t know that heeseung’s already deeply infatuated with someone in his accounting class — you. but when heeseung tells the team who you are, he’s completely shocked by what he learns about you. you’re logical, rational and has great common sense — so how the hell are you hyungyeom's older sister?

SUNGHOON’S CONFESSION — CUPID'S CRUSHED! (IN PLANNING)

synopsis. former competitive figure skater park sunghoon has been crushing on you for years. even though he doesn’t skate anymore, and even though he never really sees you around school, you’re always stuck in the back of his mind. so, when jake’s girlfriend introduces sunghoon to all of his friends, sunghoon immediately hits it off with taerae — with jake even stating that he’s been “replaced”. apparently, you’re close friends with taerae too — and sunghoon only realises that you’re taerae’s ex when he’s fallen too deep.

JAY'S CONFESSION — CUPID'S COURT (IN PLANNING)

synopsis. everyone knows that jay loves soccer — maybe a little too much. but, when jay sees that you insult his favourite sport on twitter, he’s deeply offended. despite having zero positive feelings towards you, he makes it his mission to change your mind about soccer, because in his opinion, it’s the greatest sport of all time — but he finds that he ends up falling for you instead.

SUNOO'S CONFESSION — CUPID'S CALLING (IN PLANNING)

synopsis. kim sunoo is very single. it’s not like he’s seeking for a relationship though — it’ll come when the time is right, he thinks. but when he gets a phone call from a random number one day, with the other person on the line starting a conversation, sunoo thinks he might’ve just fallen in love. slight issue, he doesn’t know who you are, and he also doesn’t know that this was another one of eunchae’s antics to get all of her friends into a happy relationship.

[marvelnatr]

Busy?

Warnings: jealous dark Nat, dom!Nat, Sub!reader, Daddy!Nat, oral r!receiving, strap on r!receiving, spanking, biting, possessive sex, degrading, daddy kink, brief use of gun from Nat, spitting, breeding kink and pinning. Minors DNI

GONNA SAY IT ONE MORE TIME MENTION OF SUGGESTED VIOLENCE

Natasha’s POV:

Looking over my files I noticed I was missing one of my pages. It must’ve gotten mixed up with Wanda’s, Carols, or Y/N’s when we were filling out mission reports. Grabbing the file I headed to Wanda’s room “hey Wands can I see your file? I think you have one of my papers” Wanda looked up from her book “yeah no problem, you know where they are”. Nodding I headed over to her desk, reaching in and pulling out this months folder. After a few minutes of looking I concluded it wasn’t there, carefully putting the folder back I looked at Wanda “thanks wands”. She nodded and mumbled a ‘you’re welcome’ too focused in her book to pay attention which I didn’t mind. Closing her door I walked down the hall and knocked on Carols room. Going in and doing the same thing I came out empty handed.

I had gotten back in my room, tossing my folder on my bed and sitting down to triple check I didn’t have the file before I texted Y/N. I was right. I didn’t have it. Picking up the phone I drafted a quick text. It was always a little awkward texting her since we broke up eight months ago. The inclination to call her a pet name has to be stifled. We broke up over a stupid argument which quickly turned into slamming doors and blew way out of proportion. When I woke up the next morning she was gone. Showed up to work and didn’t talk to me for months. We never really talked it over. She still looks at me with that same damn look yet she’s acting like she still hates me which drove me crazy. Staring at my phone I drafted a quick message

NR: hey y/n, I’m missing a file for our recent missions. I was wondering if you could look for it real quick for me? Thank you.

YN: she’s busy.

I stared at my phone for a second. My blood boiling a little at the thought of someone else with her at midnight. My emotions taking over I texted back

NR: What do you mean she’s busy? Where’s y/n?

YN: she’s busy. Goodnight.

I stared at my phone and texted back one more time

NR: give the phone to y/n.

I stared at my phone and waited for a few minutes. Receiving no answer made me more annoyed. Against my better judgment I grabbed my keys and headed to my car.

Y/N’s POV:

I pulled my phone out of my girlfriend of two weeks hands “oh my god babe don’t piss her off” she shook her head and poked me “you’re mine and she’s texting you”. I quickly laughed off her statement, and got up to get more water, trying to hide the red in my face. The truth is I’m not even sure if I am over Natasha or not. I miss her, I miss her warmth and her smile. I miss how we had our little routines. I miss our dynamic. I felt my girlfriends hands wrap around my waist as she kissed my neck from behind “what ya thinking about baby?” Putting on a smile I turned around and looked at her “nothing babe” she nodded gently and picked me up placing me on the counter and kissing me. My lips moved with hers but I didnt feel much. No sparks. No butterflies. No nothing. Just the motions.

I heard a knock at the door and leaned over looking at it. Backing away from me she winked as she went to the door and opened it. My face turning ghost white as she backed up. Natasha crossed the threshold of the door, the barrel of her Glock 19 pointed straight at my girlfriends face “who the fuck are you?” Her words flew from her mouth like poison as she glared at my new lover, my girlfriend spitting back in the same manner “I’m her girlfriend, who the fuck are you?”. Natasha’s eyes turned dark, her pupils dilated as she brought the gun closer to her head “fucking excuse you?”. I watched as she flinched, fear flooding her eyes. Starting to get up off the counter I spoke “Natasha knock it off”. Nats eyes fixated on mine while her gun stayed trained on the terrified girl standing in front of her “you’re fucking busy huh? This who you’re fucking busy with?”. Her dominance bled through her voice as I watched her. My voice coming out in a jumbled stutter as she glared at me “stay fucking put Y/N, I’ll deal with you in a minute”. Nodding I swallowed. That wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. An order I should follow if I wanted to keep my head.

Natasha looked back at the woman “get your shit and get the fuck out, you have two minutes”. I watched as she scrambled to grab her keys and shoes while Nat followed her around with the gun. She was out the door in a little under sixty seconds, the door basically chasing her on the way out as it fell just short of clipping her heels. I watched as Natasha placed the gun on the coffee table. Her eyes watching mine as she took off her jacket, laying the leather artifact on the end of a chair nearby. We stared at each other for a minute. Silence falling over the room. I could tell she was reading me, something I was never able to reciprocate when it came to her.

After a few minutes she spoke up, annoyance lacing her voice “You got a girlfriend and didn’t tell me?” I watched her in confusion “what makes you think you had the right to know?”. Nats eyes got darker as she came closer to me “its fucking respect” I rolled my eyes “what? I was supposed to call you? ‘Oh hey Natasha by the way I have a girlfriend now after you broke my fucking heart’”

Natasha’s POV:

I glared at her, my hand making its way around her throat “you walked out, you remember that?” a silence fell over the room as she watched me, recalling the night in her head. Tightening my grip I seethed “your heart may have broke but mine shattered. So don’t fucking come at me with that Y/N”. I felt Y/N swallow against the mid of my hand. Her throat lightly pushing against it then relaxing as she watched me with fear in her eyes. Glaring at her I shook my head “so yes, I did want to know. She doesn’t even love you. I see the way she looks at you. You’re just a toy for her”. Anger flooded Y/N’s face “she does love me!” I laughed a little and questioned, my hand still around her throat “then why did she walk out so damn easily huh? Leave you with someone as dangerous as me?”. My ex lovers hand reached up to smack me. Her hand just shy of making contact with my skin, before she could I caught her wrist, gripping it in my hand “well that was dumb”

Y/N’s eyes widened as I felt her heartbeat quicken. Her pulse point pushing against the pad of my index and middle finger while my hand wrapped around her neck restricted her breathing a little more. Holding her wrist down on the counter I tilted my head “does she make you happy? Does she love you the way I could?”, the girls face was beat red as she breathed out, struggling to get her words out “n-no”. Loosening my hold I nodded “thought so. Tell me darling, do you want me back?” Y/N’s eyes turned subby as her mouth opened to answer. Moving my hand up I held her jaw, taking a minute to admire the small oval shaped red marks around Y/N’s throat from my hand. I smiled at her “go on baby, tell me” a whine fell from her lips “y-yes daddy” I rubbed my thumb over her bottom lip, her mouth opening as I smiled “such a slut for me hm? You missed me yeah?”. Y/N nodded and I smirked “go on baby, stick our your tongue for daddy”

Y/N stuck out her tongue as I smirked and leaned down, looking at her I spit in her mouth then smiled “hold it babygirl. Do not swallow. Do not let any drip out. Keep that tongue out and flat for me”, staying still she followed her orders. I chuckled as it threatened to fall from her tongue. Her eyebrows furrowing a little in worry as I watched her struggle. After a few minutes I stuck my fingers in her mouth “suck.”. Her lips wrapped around my two fingers, sucking as she looked at me. I smiled at her “so fucking pretty like this, sucking daddy’s fingers like a greedy little bitch”

A red tint fell over her cheeks as she continued to suck. Her tongue swirling around my fingers, I pushed down on her tongue, making her take my fingers in a little more. Tears pricked her eyes as she gagged slightly. I let out a quiet chuckle “atta girl, take my fingers, just like that pretty thing”. Y/N’s hips rocked on the counter, the desperate look in her eyes made me feral. Pulling my fingers out she whined, I lightly patted her cheek and tutted “oh it’s okay baby, lets see how wet you are detka”. My hand made its way down to her cunt, feeling her arousal seeping through her shorts. Moving the fabric to the side my cold fingertips trailed around her cunt. Goosebumps raising on the skin of her thighs. Placing my middle finger on her sensitive bud I rubbed in small circles, Y/N’s eyes rolling back a little as she let out a small moan “f-fucking hell” I smirked “feel good huh baby?” The girl nodded as another breathy moan fell from her lips, I smiled and removed my fingers “good”. Y/N whimpered “n-no please I need more” I laughed a little “go to our room baby”. Lifting Y/N by her hips I helped her off the counter. Smacking her ass as she ran ahead of me and I called out “position four baby”

When I got in the room I was pleased to see that she was indeed in position four. Completely stripped with her back flat to the bed. Her knees bent and legs spread, wrists together and rested above her head. She always looked so pretty like this. I went into the closet and looked for something to tie her wrist together with. Scoffing at the other womans horrible taste in clothing. Finding a tie I came back. Straddling Y/N “wrists”, holding up her wrists to me I tied them together then whispered “keep them there”. Y/N nodded and I watched her “you know damn well I dont take that head shaking shit, open your mouth and speak”. Y/N’s cheeks grew red as she whispered “y-yes daddy I’m sorry. I’ll keep my hands there”. I nodded and made my way down to her cunt.

Looking up at Y/N from between her legs I saw the desperation in her eyes. She knew better then to close her legs. As much as I would love to get the spreader bar watching her struggle to keep her legs open was just as equally entertaining. Leaning down I licked her cunt gently. Her arousal coating my tongue as I groaned “fuck I missed you baby, you taste so good my love”. Y/N’s back arched, her hands gripping onto each other as she moaned. Chuckling I began to eat her out, pulling her into me and burying my face into her cunt. Trying her best not to close her legs she squirmed. Breathy little moans falling from her lips till they became louder, turning into pathetic little pleas “p-please daddy, c-can I cum?” I laughed at her “cum? You want to cum?” She nodded as she squirmed “p-please”. Laughing I rolled my thumb over her clit. Causing pleasure to surge through her body just for me to pull off. Leaving her feeling nothing but too much all at the same time.

Y/N whimpered again “n-no please” shaking my head I rubbed her thighs “no baby, position two”. Sitting up she turned on her tummy. Scooting her hips to the end of the bed and she bent herself over. Y/N’s arms still above her head as I rubbed her ass “mmmm daddy missed making this perfect little ass red, it looks so pretty tinted in that crimson red color”. Just as I finished my sentence I landed a harsh smack to her ass, the sound of skin on skin contact ringing throughout the room along with a loud moan. Smiling I rubbed the outline of my handprint on her ass. Soothing the stinging sensation “you’re getting six baby. Count each and every one like a good girl for me will you?” Y/N nodded “y-yes daddy”. Taking my hand I spanked her again, harder this time. I a little moan fell from her lips “o-one daddy thank you”. I smiled, pleased that she remembered how to count her spanks, my hand switching over to her other cheek, landing an equally harsh smack to her ass. A small whimper fell from her lips. There was no denying it stung. The red color showing more and more on her tender ass. By the time she had finished her spanks she was close to crying. Oh how pretty she looked when she cried.

Rubbing her ass gently I climbed beside her, leaning down I whispered in her ear “such a good girl baby, you did such a good job for me” kissing her ear gently then nibbling slightly “you’re mine do you understand?” Y/N squirmed under me “y-yes daddy I understand”. I laughed a little “oh baby I don’t think you do, but you will”. Y/N watched me with a little confusion. Standing up I watched her “back to position four darling”. Tilting her head in confusion she began to open her mouth to ask a question, something she knew I was not very fond of her doing. I spanked her ass again “that wasnt a suggestion, you do as you’re told when you’re told to do it, is that understood slut?” A yelp sounded throughout the room as her legs kicked a little “y-yes daddy!” Nodding I lifted her hips “then get too it”. She quickly began to scramble into position as I sighed while looking for the toy I wanted “just as I finally think you’re starting to learn to follow directions, you have to be a little brat and fuck it up hm? Why can’t you just follow daddy’s orders?”. Y/N knew that was a rhetorical question. Her arms rested above her head again. I grabbed the breeding strap we had. Y/N always went feral when I pulled out this strap, and to be honest I did too. Worry flooded her eyes a little and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion “what’s wrong baby?” A whimper fell from her lips “I-Its gonna be too big…I-I haven’t been stretching myself”

A low moan fell from my mouth. I loved fucking Y/N, but fucking her when she was tight was a whole other type of sex. The noises she made. The little screams falling from her lips. Leaning over her I straddled her “it’s okay babygirl, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, daddy will make it fit” hovering above her I held her wrists down with my hand. looking in her eyes as I teased the tip of the strap against her entrance then slowly eased the faux cock in her tight cunt. Y/N whimpered and gasped a small moan mixed with pain and pleasure fell from her lips as I coaxed “oh baby I know, I know love. You’re just so fucking tight for me hm? You look so god damn pretty like this baby”

I watched as her cunt took in my strap, leaning down to her neck I sunk my teeth into her soft skin. My canines bruising her sensitive area. The pain of my bite distracting her from my strap stuffing her tight cunt. As the pain turned into pleasure she began to moan “f-fucking hell daddy more please” groaning I moved my hands to her hips, pinning her into the mattress “you sound so fucking pathetic when you beg baby” her moans grew louder as I fucked into her, pulling her hips into me and making sure I bottomed out with each thrust. I groaned “such a whore hm? Letting me fuck into you while you moan and beg for more. Nothings ever enough for you. My little desperate cock slut” bucking her hips up she moaned “i-it feels so fucking good daddy”. Laughing I watched her, pushing my thumbs into her hips enough to bruise “you’re mine do you understand me? That bitch could never fuck you the way I do” arching her back she screamed a little “I-I’m yours daddy, p-please let me cum. I-I’m gonna cum” shaking my head I tutted “not yet baby” Y/N whimpered as I lifted her legs over my shoulders. Hitting an entirely new angle in her cunt. Her screams and moans rung through the room as I continued to brush her cervix with the strap around my hips. The strap rubbing against my clit allowing me to chase my orgasm as well.

Just before I came I groaned “go on baby. Cum” placing my hand on her lower stomach I came, allowing the strap to paint her walls with the fake cum “thats it baby, fuck such a good girl. Taking my cum like the cock drunk slut you are” cries and pleas fell from her lips as she squirmed under me, her legs shaking from her orgasm “d-daddy please, s-slow down, t-too much” chuckling I mocked “you wanted to cum didn’t you baby? Don’t act like an ungrateful little brat now, that would hurt daddy’s feelings” her eyes rolled back again as I fucked her through her orgasm. Working on trying to pull another out of her fucked out body. My hand made its way down to her sensitive clit as I rolled my thumb over the bud. Gripping at the tie around her hands she whimpered “d-daddy I’m gonna cum again” chuckling I rubbed faster, continuing to fuck into her “good, I want you too”. More mumbled incoherent pleas fell from her lips while I pulled her hips into me. It wasn’t long before she was clenching around my strap again. Those desperate big eyes watching me, pleading for me to let her cum. Tutting I shook my head “you know better, open your fucking mouth and ask me or you’re not cumming at all”. Y/N kicked her legs a little in protest, throwing a small tantrum as if she was a child. I quickly pulled out and landed a harsh smack to her cunt, growling as I looked down at her “don’t you ever dare do that again. You use your words, I haven’t fucked you that stupid yet”. She yelped once my hand made contact with her cunt. She was so distracted by the slap that she almost didn’t recognize she was no longer full of my strap. It was hard to keep my eyes trained on her and not watch the cum seeping from her cunt. Taking my fingers I leaned over her. My lips hovering close to hers, distracting her from realizing two of my fingers were trailing down to her cunt. As I spoke I fucked the fake cum back into her “use your words, do you understand babygirl?”. Y/N moaned and nodded “y-yes daddy I understand”

I kissed her then nodded, lining my strap back up with her cunt before fucking right back into her, I groaned as she easily took my thick strap “fuck, that’s better, all stretched out for me”. It wasn’t long before she was close to cumming again. I smiled at her as she begged and I rubbed her hip “such a good girl, look at you using your manners. Cum for me” gripping the sheets she came, screaming a little as I filled her yet again “f-fuck daddy t-thank you!”. Chuckling I fucked her though it, her body getting looser from losing control of it. Fear flooded her eyes as I continued to fuck her “n-no daddy no more please, I can’t” sitting forward I leaned over her. Burying the cock further into her cunt “color darling” squirming she watched me “green daddy…”. Tutting I watched her, grabbing her jaw “then baby, if it is green, why the fuck are you telling me it’s too much?”. Y/N whimpered “b-because it’s sensitive daddy” I shook my head, tightening my grip around her jaw “you know I love when you’re sensitive baby, it makes you cry such pretty tears for daddy”. Blushing she watched me as I rubbed my thumb over her lip “you’ll take one more like a good girl for me. And you’ll say thank you after. Isnt that right?”. Y/N watched me and nodded, starting to fall into sub space. Placing my hands on her wrists I began to fuck into her again. Holding her down.

Y/N did her best to squirm under me. Her tears were steadily flowing at this point from the sheer overstimulation. She looked so pretty like this. Her pleading to go faster. Her begging for more. Feeling her tighten she breathed out “p-please daddy can I cum?” I watched her “who owns you?”. Y/N whimpered “y-you do daddy I’m sorry”. Holding my jaw I looked at her “say it again” cries fell from her mouth “y-you own me d-daddy please!” Nodding I fucked into her “that’s right, I own you. Not that bitch you had in here earlier, not anyone else. Me. Don’t you ever forget that”. Nodding under me I fucked into her “good girl. Cum.”