#we really need a daily soap

[josefavomjaaga]

Napoleonic daily soap, episode 1

Scene: Paris. A small, rather shabby room. Napoleon writing a letter to his brother Joseph. Voiceover.

"You would not believe how women behave here. Deciding about every goddamn thing, all preposterous and stuff. Reading and writing and becoming educated and having an opinion on everything, even politics. About time somebody puts them in their place. Good thing Desirée is not like that. By the way, had an encounter with a prostitute, went okay-ish, I guess. Love, Napoleon."

Marmont's voice from the next room:

"Hey, Naps - Junot, Bourrienne and I are off to the Palais Royal, watching the wenches. You coming?"

Napoleon [takes a new sheet of paper]

"Give me ten more minutes. Gotta write to my fiancée."

[writes]

"Dearest Désirée, I received your letter. It's very sweet and all. But you really ought to try and become a little more sophisticated. More like the Eugénie I was fantasizing about in that story I never finished. Maybe read more? And have somebody check your spelling. Thinking about you often. Love, your sweetheart Napoleon."

[puts quill down, grabs his uniform coat]

"Okay, guys, I'm coming!"

CUT to the Clary livingroom in Marseille. Aura of somewhat old-fashioned wealth.

Desirée [puts Napoleon's letter down]

"I can't help it, Julie. Sometimes Napoleon seems a bit weird. And annoying. Actually, he sometimes comes across like an arsehole. Do you have similar problems with his brother Joseph?"

Julie [shrugs]

"Oh, not at all. Joseph is a selfish, cheating bastard who finds about every woman in France more attractive than me. But other than that, he's the perfect husband."

Their brother Etienne François Clary [enters the room, exclaims already on the doorstep]

"Except that Joseph like his brother is a pennyless nobody and lives off our money. Really Desirée, I'm not sure we should go through with your engagement to Napoleon. One Bonaparte in our family seems expensive enough."

Desirée [pretends to cry silently into her handkerchief]

Maid [curtsies on the doorstep]

"Your brother-in-law Monsieur Joseph Bonaparte, sir."

Everybody rises, smiling and cheering. Joseph enters, beaming, hugs Etienne, kisses Julie on the cheek.

Etienne:

"So, how is my favourite brother-in-law today? Any news from your brother in Paris?"

Joseph:

"Indeed. Napoleon has just written to me how much he misses his little Desirée, and how happy he is she's not like those horrible, arrogant women in Paris."

Desirée [beaming]:

"Oh, he's such a sweetheart!"

CUT to new scene: A public festivity somewhere in Paris. Music, dancing. Napoleon, Marmont and Junot [watch as Madame Tallien and Josephine, in almost transparent dresses, walk by without noticing them]

Junot [whistles]

Napoleon [stares]: 

“What the ...”

Bourrienne [returns with drinks for all four]

“What’s up with you guys?”

Napoleon:

“You can see the legs of some of these women up to their armpits.”

CUT to new scene: Next morning. Josephine's bedroom, Josephine sleeping soundly. Small room, furniture rather ramshackle. A clock shows the time: 11.50 AM

Euphemie [enters with a small, darkened silver tray]

"Yeyette, time to get your lazy ass out of bed."

Josephine [muffled sounds]

"Why?"

Euphemie [puts the tray on the nightstand]

"Because your children have written from boarding school. Both of them. When have you written to them last? Or visited? It's only an hour's trip, Yeyette."

Josephine [sits up all of a sudden, hastily reaches for the letters on the tray]

"Oh, my Hortense, my Eugène! Such sweet children, always thinking of their mother ... [reads] Listen to this, Mimi, Hortense writes that she's taking piano lessons. And Eugène needs more books and thinks that the roads are very fine and that the weather today would be perfect for a trip to their schools in Saint-Germain-en-Laye. [sniffles] Oh, they are so sweet, and I'm such a bad mother for not taking better care of them!" [starts crying]

Euphémie [after watching Josephine cry for some time]

"So, shall I get a carriage, do you want to visit?"

Josephine [puts the letters back on the nightstand]

"Heck, no. You know I have to help out at Barras' party tonight; Teresa will be totally out of her depth if I'm not with her. We'll visit some other day. But do bring me some paper and quill so I can write to Teresa and ask if she's already decided what she's going to wear tonight. We want to have matching outfits."

[kingdumkum]

I totally agree with your concept of love!! Too many people rely on the feeling of love instead of choosing to love someone, and they don't realize love takes work. You know?

tee my darlin, we're on the exact same page. I've been ruminating on this for a bit, trying to figure out the best way to say this without being Annoying, but it always comes back to this: love, the kind that lasts a lifetime, is a choice.

i know i got into it a bit here, but like. if you don't expect any other emotion to last forever, why is there a belief that love will? media is beautiful in the sense that we get to have some of the most amazing adventures, but it's also so damaging in how it twists the perception of what a healthy relationship looks like, or what real standards of love are. I could whip out a dozen examples, but they all boil down to how setting an unrealistic expectation for a very impressionable audience negatively influences their idea of what love, romantic or otherwise, is--particularly the young adults that haven't experienced love yet or don't have a healthy example to look up to. love, whether you're on the receiving or giving side, is not an excuse for bad behavior, and nor is it as eternal as media claims.

in my experience, as someone happily engaged and who's been spending a lot of time talking to Older Folks about what's made their marriages last (or end), the longest love is two-sided and it takes work. anyone who tells you otherwise is either lying or has found someone willing to sacrifice everything in order to keep their partner happy.

love is not sacrifice, but it requires compromise; love is not pain, but it requires the memory of happiness in order to continue. love is born from an emotion, but it continues with the conscious decision to make it so. if you're not happy, sad, angry, anxious, etc. 100% of the time, how can you expect love, as an emotion, to exist 100% of the time?

don't get me wrong, love is certainly something you feel, and if you don't feel it, you can not force it--but if you're looking for the kind of love that lasts a lifetime, you've got to be willing to make it a choice, too.

(interestingly, and for another tangent, is how so many continuations/time skips focus on how the original love interests separated after Some Time and are either (1) finding a new love story or (2) rekindling their love... almost like Hollywood is admitting they care more about telling how two people FALL in love and less about what someone has to do in order to make it last a lifetime... but I digress).

[whiskeynwriting]

Eyes On Me

Simon “Ghost” Riley x OFC “Bones”

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Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) 

Flirting, pining, size difference, mentions and descriptions of injury, mentions of battle, dirty talk, praise, dry humping, unprotected vaginal sex

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Summary: Ghost gets a life-threatening injury, and it’s your job to make sure he returns to full-health. 

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A/N: I rarely do summaries on one-shots, but since I’m introducing a character I figured I would (: I loooove this character, and I’m really hoping to write more one-shots with her and Ghost in the future!

Part Two: Lucky

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Simon “Ghost” Riley Masterlist

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Working on them was easy, they took everything you gave them like champs. Splints, stitches, cleanings, anything they had, you took care of. They’d bite their tongues, ball up their fists if they had to, but for the most part, that was it. Vargas wouldn’t whine, but Gaz would. Price was nearly silent and in all honesty, Soap whimpered like a baby. But Ghost, he didn’t ever make a sound. 

It wasn’t always like this, you weren’t always 141’s go-to medic. Before, you were here for everyone. Whoever needed you, that’s who you tended to. You got so good at it that at one point, you’d been promoted to a rescue mission position. Daily helicopter rides became your usual. Freezing temperatures and smoke-filled air met your exterior shell on a weekly basis. You’ve even been dropped into open fields full of bullets and bloody cries. The training you received was minimal, but enough for you to take it and run. You had talent, that talent growing into expertise. You knew how to defend yourself, your reflexes were good. You could shoot a gun and if need be, hold your own. That’s what got you to 141. 

They impressed you, they still do. The team worked like a well oiled machine. And when you first saw them, you immediately questioned him. 

“What’s with the mask?” You’d asked him, straight to his face. He tilted his head. “Is it still Halloween?” 

The boys laughed, but Ghost didn’t. His fingers curled, and he sucked in a breath. You were brand new; not a good way to start off with him. Hey, it’s not your fault he took it the wrong way. You love Halloween. Sometimes you even find the scary things sexy. 

Eventually you learned the real reasoning behind his mask, behind the skeleton head that hid his face. Honestly, you were intrigued by it, his anonymity. But sometimes, it got in the way. 

“Blood type?” You’d asked, going through each soldier’s file as you became acquainted, some months ago now. 

“Unknown.” Your colleague responded. 

“What? What do you mean?”

“We have little to no information on Ghost’s background.” 

“What if he starts to bleed out? Or needs a blood transfusion?” 

“Guess I’ll die.” Came his gruff response. 

Spinning around in your small and circular wheeled chair, you saw his bulky body taking up the majority on the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest while leaning against the frame. 

Why is she so interested in me? He’d wondered, suspicious of you. What he should’ve been asking himself is, why am I so interested in her? 

He’d seen you work on his team, you were efficient and clean. He’d even go so far as to call you fearless. And surprisingly, he finds himself liking that. You were a bit of a brat, but at the heart of your teasing jokes, there was a sense of playful familiarity. And overall, having you around was good for his men. He didn’t know how vital you were to his team, though, until you had to be flown in to rescue him. 

Pressing into his wound, you didn’t even feel him flinch. The gauze was soaked in the red stain seeping from the cut in his skin, and you were running out of supplies - you were running out of time. And apparently, your frantic nature showed. 

“Hey,” You direct your sternest voice at him. “Ghost - Simon, eyes on me.” 

He’s spiraling; body feeling light and his consciousness leaving you quickly. His eyelids are fluttering. 

“You worried about me, love?” He was out of it, losing blood and flirting while in his hazy state. It was the first time he’d ever been nice to you. 

But really, he wasn’t just being nice because his body was going into shock and losing his grip on reality. He was talking to you this way because he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance to after this. 

Giggling, you shook your head, happy that he was now responding to you. “Nah, big boy like you?” Patting his shoulder, you said, “You’ll be just fine.”

Even if he didn’t show it, Simon was worried, too. 

“But I bet you wish you’d told me your blood type now.” 

He wasn’t happy. Simon didn’t ever seem that happy, but right now, he definitely wasn’t happy. All he’s ever known is a military lifestyle, training and being out in the field. Having his team’s back, contributing to the work effort, that’s what he was best at. And now, he can’t do any of that. At least, not for the next couple weeks. 

“I’m not a child.”

“Never said you were.” Rolling your eyes, you openly sass him. “It’s just a blanket.” 

It was the first day of him being in your mini infirmary, just the two took up the room. Each of the boys came in to give him a pat on the shoulder, make sure he was doing alright. But in all honesty, Ghost hated this kind of attention. Being coddled and cared for. He could take care of himself. 

“Are you hungry?”

“No.” He grunts, looking away almost childishly. 

“Suit yourself. I’m gonna go get some pizza.” 

At this, he perks up a bit, groaning. “Can you bring me back a box?” Mumbling, he’s still looking away.

Before you leave, you turn back around with a grin. “Sure thing, big boy.” 

Once you’re finally gone, he sighs, his emotions contradicting each other inside. Frustration doesn’t even come close to what he’s feeling. He never gets injured in the field. Is he losing his touch? Surely not, he’s still in his glory years. For him, it’s embarrassing to be seen like this, not just in front of the boys but in front of you, though he’d never admit it. You make him feel nervous inside, like he has to heighten the man he already knows himself to be. He has to be tougher around you; he can’t show any weakness. The only problem with that, was that he did have a weakness, a major one. That gaping hole in his chest. 

“Alright,” Coming back with two boxes of pizza, you set them on your desk, moving them to the side. “Let’s clean you up.” 

“I can do it myself.” 

“Okay, look.” Wiping your hands off of your pants, you turn to face him. “This is my job. Would you get angry at Soap for clearing a room before you? Or Price for conducting an infiltration route?” 

This makes him stop, closing his mouth for a moment, although you can’t see it. 

“I’m part of your team, you have to acknowledge that. Your job is to kill bad guys, and my job,” Taking a few steps toward him, you point to his chest. “Is to fix the mess the bad guys make.” 

Ghost shifts his shoulders, looking away from you for just a second. And after a moment, his eyes return to yours, and he nods. 

Reaching down, he cracks the knuckles on his hands, and it takes everything in you not to break his eye contact. Every movement of his muscles makes you sweat, the ripples of them more than a beautiful sight. He’s impressive. All he has on right now are a pair of shorts and a bandage wrapped around his upper chest. Other than that, he’s bare. You can see the muscles in his abdomen, the impressive form and firmness of them, the bulges of his biceps and the chorded muscle in his forearms. His legs are thick, huge, sturdy enough to hold his entire weight along with two other men, if need be. Again, impressive.

Satisfied with his nonverbal response, you turn to grab the essentials. Pulling over a small, wheeled tray, you begin your work. Ghost sits up off the back of the bed for you, allowing you to remove the bandages around his chest. He maneuvers himself to sit cross-legged while you do it, his head tilted down to watch you work.

Truthfully, Simon thought you were attractive the moment he saw you. And then you made fun of him. But when he balled up his fists, when he inhaled that sharp breath as a reaction, it wasn’t because he was mad at you. It was because right then and there, he was attracted to you. 

“You ever been stabbed like this before?” 

He doesn’t answer for a minute, not really wanting to admit it. But then he shakes his head. “No.” 

This tells you something, it tells you that you’re tending to the worst injury he’s ever had. And you’re shocked by his answer, you would’ve assumed he’s had worse. But a stab to the chest that just barely misses the heart? Yeah, that’s pretty bad. 

He doesn’t budge when you apply the antiseptic, allowing you to work in peace. Once you’ve cleaned the wound, he’s surprised to feel your hands. His eyes widen while keeping his gaze on you, watching as your fingertips explore him. They move across his chest, just barely gliding over his skin. 

“Doesn’t look too bad.” You murmur to him, eyes trained on his chest. 

Ghost is undeniably the fittest out of the entire team. He’s huge, and not just in height. You haven’t seen his naked torso since the day he was stabbed, and when you were tending to him then, you definitely weren’t thinking about how attracted you were to him. You were working to save his life. But now, you have time to let your thoughts wander, to let yourself experience what he feels like. 

Trailing down a bit, your fingers graze over his abdominal muscles, your tongue briefly sliding across your lower lip. His muscles are firm, smooth, and warm. Your touch makes him feel uncertain; he doesn’t know what you’re doing, but it’s making him nervous. Well, not nervous, necessarily but… excited. 

“What happened to you being nice to me, huh?” You ask, tilting your head up to look at him. And the smile you offer is pretty. “Thought you’d be my best friend after I saved your life.”

This makes him laugh, a small grunt coming out toward the end from his injury. You’re right, he should be nicer to you considering the circumstance. He should also be nicer to you because, well… he fancies you. 

“I’m sorry.” He finally acknowledges, albeit quietly. “I know I’ve been acting… standoffish.” 

“It’s okay,” Shrugging, you reach for the clean bandages. “I get it, you’re embarrassed.” 

Sighing, he looks down at your nimble hands again. “Yeah.” 

“Let’s get your blood pressure before you eat.” You then tell him, changing the topic while retrieving your tools. “Then I’ll leave you alone,” Glancing up at him, you grin. “I promise.” 

Right now, he doesn’t want you to leave him alone. You’re nice company. 

Attaching the cuff over his bicep is a feat in and of itself. His muscles stretch the fabric, but it ends up securing around him adequately. You then take your stethoscope, applying it to his inner elbow while you begin pumping the meter. Glancing up at the machine, you focus on the readings, and absentmindedly, your hand wanders. While continuing to record his data, your free hand slides down his arm and into his palm as you steady yourself beside him. 

Widening those pretty brown eyes, he releases a breath, now looking further down. He’s surprised, but honestly, it feels nice. Makes him relax. And while staring at your smaller hand now resting in his, he inhales deeply, curling his fingers slightly around your hand. This makes your head snap to the side, having not fully realized what you’d done. But Ghost doesn’t move when you look at him; he does stare at you though, right into your eyes. And while keeping your gaze, he lightly squeezes your hand. He really is sorry. He’s grateful.

The days following the first are actually pretty nice. With your main focus on Ghost, the rest of the crew seem to leave you alone for the time being. 

“You’ve been a big help lately.”

“What?” Comes that thick, English accent. “I’ve done nothing but sit on my ass.”

“Yeah, but it keeps them,” Pointing out into the training yard, you finish, “Off my ass.” 

Turning, he stretches, watching his team run around and lift weights on the field behind him, only a window separating them. 

“It’s like I told you, sweetheart.” His head then moves, returning his gaze to you. “You’re the finest thing they’ve seen in months.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You tease. “What about you?” 

Since he’s been nicer, you’ve been spending more time at his side. You didn’t need to sleep here, he was fine by himself, but after that first night, you did. You couldn’t help yourself. Thinking about him all alone in the infirmary while you lay cozied up in bed made you sad. You didn’t want him to get lonely. So, you slept on the small loveseat in the corner, the one the boys usually sit on to smoke. And your sleepovers were starting to make you close, that sweet little nickname being evidence of that.

“What about me?” Under his mask, his face heats up. He knows what you’re asking.  

“Am I the finest thing you’ve seen in months?”

Under that skull-painted cover, he grins, giving you a single nod. “You’re pretty.”

“Oh, Ghost,” Walking over to him, you lean into his bicep, clutching it. “I knew you’d eventually fall in love with me.”

Rolling his eyes, he grumbles with an amused tone, “A pretty big pain in my ass.”

After he says this, you laugh, pushing yourself off of him. 

“Bones?” Your comm link buzzes slightly, a bit of static coming through. 

Pressing your button, you tilt your head to the side. “What’s up?” 

“Searg. is calling a meeting.”

“Time?”

“Eighteen hundred.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” 

“Bones?”

Once your conversation has ended, another one promptly begins. Lifting your head to face him, you raise a brow. “Yeah?” 

Ghost tilts his head to the side slightly, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Never heard anyone call you that.”

“Yeah, well you’re not on my med. team.” 

“Well, you’re on my team, aren’t you?”

Giving him a thoughtful pout, you eventually answer with, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

“Then we should know your cover.” His voice is stern and gritty, deep and rumbling. It’s like how he talks out in the field. 

“Well, now you do.” Giving him a quick wink, you turn away, intent on doing some paperwork before your meeting. 

“What’s the meaning of it?” When you don’t immediately answer, he calls for you. “Bones?”

Something about him using your code name makes you grin. 

“I’m known for breaking them.” Turning, you face him once again, a smile plastered across your smooth lips. 

“Known for breaking bones?” He clarifies, sounding skeptical. 

“Yep.”

“Huh,” He scoffs, “That’s not exactly something to boast about, is it?” 

“Well, it wouldn’t be if they were mine.” 

Oh, now he gets it. 

“I did a lot more than sew up wounds before I came here.” With a heavy sigh, you reminisce on your time in the field. But you made a choice to be here. “I used to break them, now I heal them.” 

He never knew. And honestly, this new information only makes him more attracted to you. A badass soldier with a gentle touch? Sounds like his kind of woman. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” You emphasize, “I’ve got some paperwork to do.” 

“Fine.” He returns flatly, and you giggle. He really sounds upset about that abrupt ending. 

“Think you’re gonna be okay by yourself while I’m gone?”

“Won’t be a problem.” He grunts, shimmying to lay back down. “I’ll just sleep.” 

Throughout your hours spent together, you’ve discovered that he’s quite the fan of naps. He takes one every day around three in the afternoon, and you wonder if he’s finally enjoying his rest. It doesn’t help that you often have to leave him while he’s sleeping, though. You’ve liked being by his side lately, it’s comforting. His presence has begun to grow quite kind, and even in the quiet times, it’s nice. But you still have meetings and other duties to tend to. Which include the one you’d been called to. 

Ghost’s gentle snore is what prompts you to look up, your eyes searching for his own. But they’re closed, one arm propped behind his head with his other hand laying over his stomach. He’s fully laying on the bed, the blanket only covering up to his waist. He’s still shirtless, and right now, he looks practically naked. Aside from the mask. Eyes trailing up his form, you take in the steady rise and fall of his chest, the light-colored hairs scattering his pectorals, and even further down, leading from his belly button to the hem of his pants. It makes you sigh, he looks peaceful. You’ve never seen him so relaxed. 

You don’t like the thought of him waking up to a room empty of you, so to make up for it, you head to the cafeteria. As quietly as you can, you return with a large pizza, one with his favorite toppings on it. Steak, mushrooms, onions, and two kinds of cheese, specifically provolone and American - strange and lengthy details, but ones you memorized, nonetheless. And after you set the box down, taking in another look of him, you turn to leave. 

Eventually, the smell wakes him up. How could it not? It’s his absolute favorite thing to eat. But he has to be careful, he needs to keep himself in shape over these couple of weeks, or he’ll need more training than originally planned. Sighing, he props himself up, the realization now setting in. 

She did this for me. 

He knows it was you and not the boys because of the little note on top of the box. 

Ghost, 

I’m at a meeting until six tonight, I’m sorry I probably won’t be around when you wake up. Here’s some pizza to make up for it. Hopefully you still love me <3

Bones

He rolls his eyes at that last part, a smile pulling on the edges of his lips. You can be so sarcastic sometimes. But he likes it. You make him laugh. 

While you’re gone, Simon thinks about the way you take care of him. You’re so gentle with him when changing his bandages and cleaning his wound. Your smaller hands touch him so softly that it makes him feel things for you. He wonders, is he just interested in you because you’re the only woman around? Or is he interested in you because you’re funny? Because you’re nice? It’s because you’re such a tender caretaker and you remind him of all the love he never got in life. 

Looking back at the note, he reads it again. It sounds like you’d regretted leaving him, even for something as important as a medical staff meeting. Maybe you’ve been enjoying his company, too. 

When night rolls around, you snuggle up on the couch, pulling the blanket you’d grabbed from your cot over your shoulders. Ghost just stares at you, one leg laying flat on his bed with the other up, the sole of his foot planted on the mattress. 

“How the hell do you fit on that?”

Shrugging, you answer with, “It’s easy to fit in places when you’re not an enormous tank.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“You should,” Smirking, you can just barely see his eyes in the darkness. Those nearly black orbs find your own, and it makes your chest tighten. “I like the way you’re built.” 

He chuckles, amused. “Yeah?” And then he reaches for a pack of cigarettes next to his bed, lifting the edge of his mask. “Why’s that, love?” That word makes the skin on your face burn. 

You get a small flash of his face when he lights the end of his cig with a match, and you notice something you’ve never seen before. 

“What’s that scar from?” It just comes out on its own. He knows you’re talking about the one on his jaw. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” He points out, taking a puff. And for some reason, you find that so hot. 

“I’ll answer it if you answer mine.” 

Sometimes, you aggravate him. Sighing, he speaks through the darkness, telling you, “Fine.” 

A sly grin crosses your face on the other side of the room, and you wonder if he can see it. He can. 

“I like men with muscles.” And he likes that answer. “Makes me feel like they can take care of me.” 

He exhales calmly into the nighttime air between the two of you, pressing his lips to the cigarette and then inhaling once again. Ghost knows he could take care of you. 

And then he thinks about his own response, settling with, “It came from a knife.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Rolling your eyes, you scoff. “You gotta tell me more than that.” 

Flicking the ashes of his cigarette into a tray, he lays back a little on the bed. “It was a mission in the Middle East. Bloody heat was killing me, I had to lift my mask up.” 

Oh, wow. Honestly, you were just kidding. You never thought he’d actually tell you anything more. But you take this chance and run with it, listening intently so you don’t miss a single piece of his story. 

“We were ambushed,” He continues, shaking his head. “Price never saw it coming.”

Truly, you can’t even imagine. Sure, you had your time in the field, but it was nothing compared to what he’s gone through. 

“We took them out, but not before one of them got to me with a knife. Sliced up my jaw.” Ghost exhales a puff of smoke, watching it billow into the air. Then he gently shakes his head. “Didn’t let him get any further ‘n that.” 

By the end of the story, his voice has grown flat. Maybe he doesn’t like thinking about his scars. Maybe it’s why he keeps the mask on. 

“Could I… could I see?”

“My scar?” Comes his instant response. “What for?” 

“I dunno,” Shrugging in the dimly lit light, you glance down at the floor. A timid gesture that he again sees. 

After a moment of silence, he figures, what the hell? Having you be close to his face didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. Besides, he likes getting a good look at you. Finishing off his cigarette and rubbing the butt of it down into the tray beside him, he says, “Why not?” 

Looking up, you shake your head. “It’s okay, I don't have to. I don’t even know why I asked.”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “Come over here, doll.” 

Almost giddily, you do, shoving your blanket to the side and popping up onto your feet. He chuckles deeply upon seeing your reaction, watching you scamper over to him. 

“You’re excited about this, huh?”

Shrugging, you grin, standing right next to his bed. “Maybe.”

You don’t give a single shit about his scar. You want to see him. Being close to Ghost gives you a good feeling. 

Leaning over, you turn on your desk lamp, illuminating this corner of the room. And when you come back to him, you’re met with the incredible sight of his eyes. They’re dark brown in shade, but in the dim light, they're a dazzling pool of honey. But what really catches your eye is the lower half of his face. His mask is still pulled up, revealing his mouth, chin, and jaw. 

“Can I touch?” You then ask, keeping your voice quiet. 

He eyes you up and down while your gaze is fixated on his mouth. His lips curl, and he nods. “Sure.” 

Lifting your hands, they fall to either side of his face. When you make contact with him, he closes his eyes, exhaling a slow breath, accepting your touch. He can’t remember the last time he let someone do this. 

“Hm…” You don’t mean to, but you hum, fingers trailing along his jawline and chin. He has stubble here, just barely. It seems like when he’s crept away to the showers at night, he’s shaved. 

Ghost’s eyes trail across your face, feeling your breath on his skin. You’re closer than you ever have been before, and it makes the muscles in his chest tighten, makes his pulse quicken. Licking his lower lip, he whispers, “How’s that feel?” 

“Good.” You respond, nodding, your eyes not once leaving his mouth. “I like it.”

“Why’d you want to feel it?” He then wonders aloud, and he wishes you would look up at him. He wants to look into your sweet eyes. “Haven’t you seen enough scars in your lifetime?” 

“I don’t really care about scars.”

What the hell?

Scrunching his brow, he then asks, “Then why the hell did you want to see mine?”

Now, you do look up into his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you work up the nerve to say what’s floating through your mind. “Because it’s on you.”  

Immediately, he swallows. His gaze falls to your mouth for the first time since you’ve been this close, flickering back and forth from your eyes to your now slightly parted lips. And all at once, he sits up a bit straighter, wrapping an arm around your back to pull you in.

As if you’re expecting it, you melt into him, letting him press you to his body. The fingertips on his jaw slide along his cheeks as you move to fully hold his face in your hands, Ghost’s lips easily meeting your own. One large arm slides around your back, hand securing to your waist as he pulls you further into him. 

Heartbeat pounding in your veins, you gasp quietly against him, molding your mouth to his as you return his enthusiasm. Your hands hold onto him tightly, sliding down to the back of his neck. But then he stops, releasing a rough sigh and opening his eyes to look at you. 

“Come here,” He whispers hurriedly, his other hand reaching out and tugging on you. 

“Ghost, I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” His lips are moving over your jaw, his hands still pulling on you. 

“You’re healing.” 

Scoffing, he leans over the side of the bed, hands securing themselves to your lower back and upper thigh. He then hauls you forward, leaning down so he can hoist you up onto his lap.

“Oh!” 

“I go back into the field next week.” He grunts out, now looking up at you. “I’ll be fine, sweetheart.”

“Ghost, I -”

“You know my name?” He asks, his rough, baritone voice demanding your attention. 

And suddenly, you feel extremely fucking small. Your legs slide forward and down, straddling him. Quietly, you squeak out, “Yes.” 

“Say it.” 

Leaning forward, you embrace the excitement of being on top of him. Your hands return to hold his face, and he lets you. Bringing yourself in close, you look into his eyes. 

“Simon.” 

“That’s right.” Comes his breathy exhale, leaning in to close the small gap between the two of you. 

And then Simon’s hand is on the back of your head, pushing you further into him. His other lands on your hip, fingers curling around your flesh. He smells like cigarettes and cologne, tastes like mint and tobacco. And you overtly, eagerly, wholeheartedly, welcome him. 

“Closer to me,” Simon grumbles, the hand on your hip curling around your lower back. He pulls you until you’re flush against his chest, your breasts pushing up against his clean bandages. 

“Simon,” 

He groans into your mouth when you use his name, repeatedly moving his lips over your own. Your legs press tightly to the outsides of his thighs, holding him close to your body. And when he feels your hips shift against him, when he hears your soft, delicate moan, he decides to slide his tongue into your mouth. He licks inside, rubbing the wet muscle over your own. Moaning wantonly, it echoes into his throat, the hand on your head sliding down to hold your jaw open. The way he moves against your mouth is almost overwhelming, full of passion and lust and a particular sense of need. 

“You wanna take this off for me?” His accent is making you melt. “Can you do that for me, love?” 

Tugging impatiently on your shirt, those frosty eyes look into your own with a look of utter desperation. But also control. Ghost was always in control. 

Nodding, you reach down, finding the edges of your longsleeve shirt and slipping it up and over your head. 

“Oh…” He moans - Ghost fucking moans. His head immediately dips down to the luscious space between your breasts, mouth finding your skin. 

“Oh,” It comes as a complete surprise, him surging down to kiss you here. “Simon…”

Fuck, you’ve wanted to do this since you met him. You both have. 

His mouth drags along the curves of your chest, and you’re surprised when they’re followed by tender kisses. And then his hands drop, groping your ass. 

“I want you.” He growls against your breasts, nipping at the soft slopes of them. “What do you want, love?” 

“I want you, Simon.” Nodding quickly, your hands slide back up to his face. In your hurried state you accidentally move the fabric of his mask just a bit, and his hands come flying up to your forearms as soon as it happens. 

“Don’t take it off.” It’s a firm boundary, a stern warning. His head lifts, too, eyes staring menacingly into you. 

“I wouldn’t, I won’t.” He looks at you almost skeptically. “I respect your privacy.” 

When he doesn’t budge, you wiggle on top of him. “Please. Simon, I wouldn’t ever do that to you.” 

Slowly, his hands leave your forearms, loosening their grasp. He’s deciding to trust you. 

One of those meaty hands falls to your chest, still holding your gaze while he cups you. The other rises to your neck, fingers curling around the back to pull you in again. This time, though, he doesn’t return to your lips. This time, he goes to your neck. Rolling your head to the side, you let him, feeling Simon’s teeth scrape along your skin. He’s feeling every inch of you that he can, hands falling to your ass when he feels you move over him. With a firm grasp, he urges you forward and back, grinding your covered crotch over his own. And while he’s busy exploring you, you take this opportunity to explore him. 

Delicately, your fingertips slide down his face, down the chorded muscles along his neck, landing on his sculpted shoulders and then moving to his biceps. When you squeeze the thick meat of his arms, he groans, smirking mischievously against you. With your nails scraping lightly over his taut skin, they quickly find his back, gently scratching him. His muscles are flexing, damn near all of them. He’s so worked up with you like this on top of him. And he’s still moving you, shoving your hips over his crotch and manhandling you in the softest way he knows how. He’s strong, but he’s gentle with you. 

The length of him is palpable beneath his thin shorts, settling right into your covered folds. And it makes you moan, makes your breaths pick up and your center pulse. The air is thick with arousal, the room lit dimly in the soft, yellow hue of your small lamp. His breaths are hot, fanning across your face in humid and heavy wafts. But then he stops, taking a breath. And for some reason, your sass decides to fill this brief, empty space. 

“So,” Sighing, you’re also working to catch your breath. “Does this mean you think I’m pretty?” 

He chuckles, that beautiful smile making itself known. “Does this mean you like my muscles?”

“I love your muscles.” Wiggling even closer to him, you grin, sucking in a tight and excited breath. Your one hand then slides down his chest, his abs, curling around to hold his hip, your thumb just barely brushing his pelvis. 

“Yeah? Even when you’re sewing ‘em up?” He asks, that deliciously rich accent making you flutter inside. 

“You can’t do that again.” Shaking your head, your hands move to hold his face. It’s a tender act. “You can’t scare us like that again.” 

That night, you swear you started to see the light fade out of his eyes, and that, well… that was a first for you. You saved Simon’s life. 

“You care about me, eh?” He replies in the cockiest voice.

“Your team cares about you.” Eyes flickering down to the bandages on his chest, you then say, “And yeah, maybe I do, too.” 

Simon’s body flexes beneath you, hips rutting up into your own. And now, it’s his turn to hold your face in his hands. He lifts your jaw, making you look at him. 

“Hey, don’t worry about that now.” 

“Are you okay?” Eyes darting back up to his, they’re filled with concern from the memories of that day. “With me sitting like this on you?” 

He gives you a cocky grin. “I’m just fine, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me. I’m a big boy, remember?” 

This makes you smirk, one hand finding its way to his pelvis with much more confidence than before. “Is that right?” 

“That’s right.” He nods, keeping that gorgeous grin. “Think you wanna take it?”

Breathing out a small laugh, you give your head a single shake. “I never knew you wanted to fuck me so bad.” 

“You never noticed the things I’ve said to you?”

“No, I noticed. I just thought… maybe it was harmless flirting.” 

At this, his head tilts, eyes boring into your kind orbs. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me harmless in my entire life.” 

“Yeah, you’re one scary motherfucker.” Leaning in to kiss him, he accepts it with a heated moan. “And I find that sexy as hell.” 

“Well, you said you like fixing bones.” He’s feeling desperate for you at this point; it’s like you won’t stop teasing him “Hop on this one, then.”

“Oh my god, you really are like every other fucking guy.” But you’re already reaching for the bottom of your sports bra, slipping it off your torso in one go. 

“God damn.” Large hands instantly return to your breasts, cupping and weighing your tits in his palms. His chest dips dramatically from releasing such a heavy breath, leaning in to kiss one of your delicate peaks. It’s firm and wet, the repeated press of his lips. And it wouldn’t be so overwhelming if he wasn’t practically making out with your tits.

Seeing your naked form for the first time sets his own alight. He always knew you were a sexy little thing, and now, he’s got first hand proof. Your curves look delicious, and if he weren’t in a tiny medical bed, he’d lay you down to lick them. 

“You want me?” He doesn’t expect this sort of response, his surprise going tenfold when he feels you reach down between your bodies. 

“Oh,” He releases a tight breath, feeling you run a finger over his erection. 

Staring into your eyes, he gives you an almost predatory gaze. “You know I do.”

Easily, you slide your shorts and panties to the side, revealing your delicate sex to him, though he can only barely see it. And then you’re reaching down, fingers curling over the band of his shorts to pull him out. When you do, he releases a sound you’ve never heard from him before, his jaw hanging low. He’s long and firm, crimson at the head and already leaking. The pulsations rocking through his cock are, at this point, an almost painful sensation; and when you look down, you grin. Letting the length of him rest on his lower abdomen, you move yourself so you can slide your glistening lips over him.

Simon hisses at the contact, strong hands cementing themselves to your hips. But he doesn’t stop you from moving. If anything, he only encourages you to. 

“You get off on this?” He suddenly asks, the feeling of your slippery center sliding against him making his head spin and his insides tense. “Fucking your superior?”

“Baby,” You laugh, shaking your head while continuing to move over him. “I’m on the med. team, you’re not my superior.” Taking a breath, you reach out, grabbing his jaw and lowering your voice to speak. “But you did get one thing right. I do want to fuck you.” 

Before he can say anything, you’re lifting yourself, his throbbing tip prodding at your entrance. You hold his gaze, an unexpected moan drifting from your lips when you finally begin to feel him. 

“Fuck,” He grits out, fingers digging into your sides and urging you down. “Come on, precious. You can take it.” 

Sliding down only a few mere inches, you wince. Holding onto his shoulders, your fingernails dig into his skin, scratching harshly at the firm muscles all along him. He’s bigger than you’d imagined him to be. His girth is wider than you’ve ever had, and when you reach down to feel him you quickly discover he also isn’t lacking in length. 

His military voice then comes out, that stern, commanding tone. “Focus - hey, eyes on me.” Irises snapping up to his, you do as you’re told. “That’s a good girl.” Jesus Christ, you didn’t expect a single ounce of praise to come from him.

Simon’s dominant hand then slides down, the pad of his thumb finding the reddened nub at the peak of your sex. Your hips jolt when he presses the thick digit against you, but with his free hand on your back, he brings you in. He applies pressure, prompting you to lean on him, his mouth seeking out your nipples once again. Slipping his tongue out and over your skin, it forces you to whine, feeling your hips rock involuntarily against him. With the stimulation coming from his thumb and tongue, you find yourself relaxing, resting on the weight of him. 

“Feels good, yeah?” 

Your fingers find the back of his head, your own dropping back. “Yes…” 

It’s overwhelming and sexy as all fucking hell. Simon can see the marks he’s left on your neck, shoulder and chest, and he grins, knowing they’ll be there in the morning even if he won’t be able to see them. He doesn’t stop the movement of his thumb, keeping the same amount of pressure as he swirls little circles over your sensitive clit. His mouth is sucking on you, too, his tongue running over your nipples in wet and passionate swipes. And altogether, it works like a charm, lubing you up enough for him to slide entirely inside. 

“Simon.” 

“You’ve got it, yeah… there we go…” The only hand that moves is the one that was touching your clit, fingers now attaching themselves to your hip once you’re entirely seated on him. 

“Fuck me,” You’re clinging to his shoulders, both arms wrapping around his neck. He’s removed himself from your tits, resting his face in the slope of your shoulder, just beside your throat. 

He’s searing hot and filling you completely, his tip seated deep in your guts as you pulse around him violently. And Simon’s aware of his size, so he waits for you to make the first move. And he snuggles into you while he does, resting in this brief lull. 

Feeling another person surrounding his body like this brings out a sensation from the depths of his heart, a feeling he hasn’t experienced in genuine years, decades, even. He feels like he can relax in your embrace, like he can let go with you. 

“Oh, god.” Head dropping back, you shift slightly, beginning to move. 

“Yes,” He encourages you, reaching up to hold your neck. “That’s it.” And then he pulls, bringing you down to him. Your lips meet in a small clash, tongues colliding as soon as you make contact. 

This entire event awakens something inside of you. It’s like he’s consuming you, taking over your body and every part of your mind. And you’ve felt like this for weeks, months; you’ve ached for him. At night you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him, and during the day, you’ve dreamt about him. It was so hard to be in his presence, knowing you couldn’t have him, that he probably didn’t even want you in the first place. But he does; he wants you just as badly as you want him. 

Simon sways his body with you, leaning back against the head of the bed. He uses this slight change in position as leverage to shove his hips up into you, giving you small and shallow thrusts. But he lets you do most of the work, grinning while admiring the way in which you find your pace. 

“You’re a tight thing, aren’t you?” His voice is gruff, eyes lowering to stare at the space where you’re repeatedly connecting. And then they furrow, mouth dropping open when he finally witnesses you lifting and lowering your hips. “And look how well you’re taking me…” 

“You’re… so fucking big.” Lowering your head, you then offer a half smirk, shaking your head at him. “Guess you really do have reason to be cocky, huh?” 

“Damn right, and I’m glad you know it.” 

“Jesus - fuck!” The first word is said through a scoff, the second through a high yelp. 

“You feel like makin’ fun of me again?” Simon then challenges, having lifted his feet and planted them directly on the edge of the bed. He uses this leverage to punch himself up into you, huffing out a sharp breath when he feels you fall onto his chest.

“Fuck, baby - I’m sorry.” You immediately lift yourself up, looking down at his bandages. “Are you alright?”

The fact that you’ve so easily been able to call him baby makes Simon smile, his teeth even showing for the first time that you’ve ever seen.

“You need to stop asking me that.” He says in that deeply, gritty tone. And then he shoves you forward again, knees high in the air as he lets you rest over his chest. 

Your arms slide around his neck, clinging to him as he begins to shove himself up into you. Sucking in a deep breath, he grunts out beside your face, his arms wrapping around your naked torso. He’s starting to feel sweaty, sticky, his skin warm and glistening. And at this point he’s bouncing you on his cock, your ass slapping down onto his pelvis with every move. He let you have your fun; now, he’s fucking you. 

“Oh my fucking god,” You’re trying desperately to keep up to move yourself back against him, but he doesn’t allow it. He’s punching the breath from your lungs, one hand sliding up your back to hold your head. 

He lets out a breathless laugh. “Are you alright?”

“S-Shut up, Ghost.” Comes your stuttered response, now gasping from how deep he’s hitting.

“Uh-uh,” He tuts, “Say my name, sweetheart. Sounds so good comin’ outta that pretty little mouth.”

This makes you laugh, a small hiccup of a sound due to his intense movements beneath you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, wanna hear you say it when we fuck.” 

“Oh, so this is going to happen again?” You tease, feeling his groans vibrate through his chest. Jesus, he’s so sturdy. 

Leaning forward, he grabs a fistful of your ass, growling into your ear, “I damn sure want it to.” 

You take advantage of his closeness, turning your head to capture his lips. “You’re so fucking deep.” 

“Yeah? You want me to stop?” He whispers in return against your lips.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 

At this point, he’s panting beneath you, sliding down a little further on the bed. You move with him, still holding onto his firm body with a wild desperation. And he keeps your lips on him, shoving his tongue inside your mouth while keeping his brutal pace.

If you were dripping before it’s nothing compared to now. You’re leaking down his shaft, the creaminess of your arousal coating him entirely. And he can feel it; it’s making his eyes roll back into his head. 

“You’re gonna make me cum, squeezin’ around me like that.” 

One of your hands lowers, moving down to hold onto his bicep, and then his forearm. Turning your head to the side, you smile, ignoring his comment while you breathe out lightly, “I love your tattoos, baby.”

“You just love praisin’ me, don’t you?” In two seconds, that tattooed forearm rises, hand grabbing your face. “Bring those pretty eyes back to me.” And when you look into those endlessly deep eyes of his, he grits out sternly, “Eyes. On. Me.” 

“Simon,” It’s a small whine, one uttered when you feel him strike gold inside. “Please make me cum.” Your head drops to his shoulder, and what he does neck surprises you. He kisses your fucking cheek.

“I can do that for you.” 

As if things couldn’t become more intense, he takes it up a notch, ramming into you and forcing your face into the crook of his neck. His hand on the back of your head holds you there, and when you bite into his neck, he groans into the nighttime air. 

“Yesss, baby, don’t stop. Oh my god, please don’t stop.” He’s so big beneath you, his muscles bulging against your naked chest. And he revels in the feeling of your soft tits pressing against him, your beautiful body bouncing as it gets fucked by him. 

“Fuck me,” Comes his gasped out curse, muttering, “Such a good pussy.” 

“Fu-uck,” 

He’s pounding against that delicate spot that’s making you go dumb, your arms and thighs beginning to shake around him.

“G-Ghost, I’m…” 

“Say my name, say it again.” His voice is deep and thick, stuttering a bit. “One more time for me.” His thighs are flexing beneath your ass, one arm wrapped around your back and the other gripping the flesh on your hip.

It’s overwhelming, the feeling shoving its way through your body, coursing through your veins. The excitement of it all is something you haven’t felt in too long of a time, if ever before. Swallowing, you gather yourself enough to do as he says, once again, uttering his name. 

Immediately after, he’s cumming, hips breaking their pace and length throbbing inside you. His forceful shoves against your g-spot make you crumble above him, onto him, your body shaking. The way you’re holding onto him makes him feel like he can do anything, makes him think you feel safe with him. And you do. The world could be crumbling and still, you’d cling to him, knowing he’d hold you in his arms. 

Quivering limbs press against him, your body going a bit numb from the intensity of it all. Your center pulses around his girth, squeezing him tightly while you wash him in your arousal. You can feel his, too, the milky ropes shooting into you, and you revel in the fact that your body has made his feel this good. He’s breathing harshly beside you, pectorals flexing against your naked chest. You’ve never heard him groan so forcefully, not even when he’s out working. And that makes you smile, knowing you bring those noises out of him. A blissful smile crosses your face, body rolling in waves as you experience your own high above him. 

“Fuck me,” His accent is thick, coating the shell of your ear. He’s petting at your hair, body beginning to slump down on the mattress beneath him. “You okay there, princess?”

You’re quiet, still trying desperately to find your breath. Swallowing, you nod, turning your head to kiss his throat, breathing heavily against him. And while his body relaxes, he holds yours above him, urging you to do the same. 

“Maybe I should get hurt a little more often,” He looks over, pointer finger curling under your chin, gently lifting you to look at him. “If it means seein’ you.” 

Part Two

[hyunsvngs]

kinktober !

kink: olfactophilia

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

wc: 1.8k

olfactophilia: a paraphilia for, or sexual arousal by, smells and odors emanating from the body, especially the sexual areas.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

If you had to choose one word to describe yourself, in your current situation… Goodness, it was hard. Pathetic? Disgusting? Perverted, deranged, insane? You heard Seungmin's voice in your head, calling you names. Calling you a dirty little slut, scoffing at you, torn between a look of utter disgust and an excited smirk. Just the thought turned you on - you wanted him to look down on you. You deserved to be looked down upon.

Nice girls touched themselves while thinking of their boyfriends fucking them. Normal girls closed their eyes and let their imagination do its job, their hand working away between their legs. You? You held your boyfriend's dirty shirt up to your face, sniffing desperately below the arm hole, inhaling the bitter scent of his sweat like it was fucking crack. If only he could see you now.

"What do we have here?"

Your legs snapped shut, dropping his shirt instantly. "Y-You weren't supposed to be home this early-"

He raised an eyebrow at you, ignoring your comment and stepping into the bedroom. "Is this what you do when you're alone? Sniff at my dirty things like a dog?"

"I just - I was getting off, and… I wanted to feel closer to you. Wanted to smell you." Your cheeks were bright red. Being caught naked was one thing. Being caught masturbating was another level. But being caught doing this? A vice of shame wrapped around your chest, making your heart race, and your clit throb.

Seungmin approached the bed, holding your face gently and smiling down at you. "Aww, baby. That's so pathetic, it's almost sweet."

You looked up at him, wide-eyed, almost drunk on his scent.

"I knew you were dirty but I had no idea you were into this. You like the way I smell, baby?"

"Mhmm." You nodded.

"Y'know, I was really looking forward to fucking you when I got home," Seungmin said, sly smile on his lips. He stroked back your hair, looking into your eyes. "But you seem so fucked out already. You don't even need my dick, do you? You just want to smell me?"

You couldn't help but whine at the mention of his dick. "Seungie - no - I still want-"

"Shh," he hushed you. "It's okay. You don’t need it, okay? You only need my scent."

He spoke so firmly you didn’t dare argue. You nodded meekly, watching as he pulled off his shirt. He climbed atop you, straddling your frame as you lay on the bed beneath him.

Seungmin’s smile was sweet, but it was dripping with condescension. “Go on. I know how desperate you are. Keep touching yourself.” You did as he asked, slowly circling your clit and holding back a whimper as you stared back into his eyes. You felt warm under his gaze, all hot and shy.

In daily life you felt so comfortable around Seungmin; you two had been together for a while, and he made you feel so bold, so self-confident. But in the bedroom? You felt so small beneath his stare, such a stupid, pathetic baby. And, fuck, it got you wet.

"Close your eyes," he instructed. You followed his word, putting your trust in him, as you always did, and plunged yourself into darkness. "Now breathe."

You inhaled deeply. His armpit - you would know the scent anywhere. You let out a high-pitched moan, absolutely unintentionally. It was so overwhelming to your senses - you felt so completely surrounded by him. It was a bitter scent, the sweat he'd accumulated throughout the day, though the sweetness of his soap cut through it. It was all so utterly Seungmin, you could hardly take it. His armpit hairs tickled your nose, and you resisted the urge to nuzzle into the crevice.

"Seungie, you smell so good," you panted.

He let out an amused scoff. "I smell awful, baby, I've been working all day. You're just so whipped you love it anyway." He was right, without a doubt.

“Finger yourself for me, baby,” he instructed you, his voice barely above a whisper yet still so commanding.

You were practically trembling with arousal; you felt it coursing through your system like a poison, making your limbs shake and your heart pound. “H-How many fingers, Seungie?” you asked.

He let out a low chuckle. “Such a good girl for asking. Can you handle three?”

You currently had two fingers curled inside yourself - you added another. “Mhmm,” you confirmed. “Can handle anything you tell me - Seungie knows my limits better than I do.”

“That’s right, darling,” he confirmed. He sat up, and his scent left your nostrils. You opened your eyes, lips pursed in a sulky pout, ready to protest, before you saw Seungmin looking down at you lovingly. “You’re being so good today, baby, what’s happening?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I knew you liked it when I’m bratty, Seungmin! You want me to be naughty? I can start acting up, if you want.”

Seungmin couldn’t help but grin, shaking his head. “Nah. I want my good girl today. You gonna keep being good? Or do I have to slap that smirk off your pretty little face?”

It was fun, being told off by your boyfriend - you would know, as it happened often. You loved acting out in bed. And equally, Seungmin loved putting you in your place. But in this moment, as he looked down at you with such warmth in his eyes, all you wanted was to behave for him. “I can be good,” you insisted, looking up at him earnestly.

“That’s my baby,” he said, stroking back your hair gently. “C’mon, touch your clit while you finger yourself.”

You nodded, complying immediately. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sensation, pleasure spreading outwards from the bundle of nerves. You stroked your clit in time with your fingers pumping, curling to hit your g-spot. You groaned. “Dick now, Seungmin? Please?”

“Aww, you want my dick?” he cooed, cocking his head at you. “How bad?”

“Don’t play with me, Seungie!” you whined.

“I thought you were being good today?” he asked, effectively shutting you up. “Here, baby - don’t stop touching yourself.” You watched as he climbed off you, standing up and unbuttoning his jeans. His cock sprung free, rock hard already.

“You’re hard already, Seungie? You like watching me get off? You like it when I smell you?”

He smirked. “Yeah, baby. You’re so fucking dirty today.” You let out a whimper at his words, still pumping at your g-spot. “You like being called dirty, hm? You like being my dirty, slutty little baby?” He was stroking his dick as he spoke, slowly, teasingly.

“Yeah, Seungmin, fuck,” you nodded, practically drooling upon seeing his member. You saw it every day, yet it never stopped blowing your mind. He had the prettiest dick in the world - you firmly believed that to be true. Perfect length, perfect girth. Perfectly pink tip, perfectly trimmed pubes at the base of his shaft. How the fuck did you get so lucky?

Seungmin returned to the bed, climbing atop you once more. Further up your chest this time, positioning his dick above your face. You opened your mouth instinctively, desperate to taste, silently pleading for the weight of his dick on your tongue, down your throat.

“Close your mouth, baby,” Seungmin spoke gently. “You don’t get to taste just yet.”

You whined, but followed his command once more, closing your mouth to form another sullen pout. You wanted his cock in your mouth more than anything, it was true, but your desires were somewhat fulfilled when he tapped the head of his dick on your cheek. You moaned aloud at the contact, still fucking yourself enthusiastically with your fingers. He gripped his dick at its base, swiping it across your face, smearing sticky precum across your lip. You immediately licked it up, savouring the saltiness on your tongue.

“Close your eyes, baby. Deep breath in.” Seungmin pressed the tip of his dick above your upper lip, below your nostrils. You did as he asked, inhaling sharply. The scent was dark, musky, undeniably him. “That good, honey?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you cried, sniffing at his cock as though it was your only source of oxygen. Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your climax approach. Three fingers pushing against your g-spot, another circling your clit, Seungmin’s dick overpowering your senses. “I’m gonna - ‘m gonna cum, Seungie-”

“Did I say you could?” he asked. You opened your eyes to find him looking down at you sternly.

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, Seungmin, please-”

“No,” he told you. His tone was flat, telling you that there was no room for negotiation; you would not be coming. Not until he told you so.

He took his dick away from you, though before you could complain, he planted his balls on your face. They shook as he stroked his dick, pumping it with his fist, bouncing between your lips and nose.

“They smell good, baby?” he asked gently. You let out a muffled noise of affirmation, and he laughed down at you. “Gorgeous little slut.”

His moans and grunts met your ears as he pleasured himself, and each time you opened your eyes you saw his furrowed eyebrows, his teeth biting into his bottom lip. Looking at him, you’d say he was enjoying this as much as you were - more, maybe.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart,” he spoke, his voice husky. You did so, opening wide and sticking your tongue out for him. His balls landed on your tongue, salty with sweat, and you licked at them eagerly. “There we go, baby, that’s it.”

You wrapped your lips around one of his heavy balls within the sack, sucking gently, swirling your tongue around it. Seungmin moaned loudly, and you watched as he used his spare hand to pinch his nipple. You heard his breaths pick up in tempo, the strokes of his cock grow more vigorous. You knew the rhythms of his body better than your own; he was getting close.

“You wanna let go, baby?” he asked. “You wanna cum with me?”

You moaned around his balls, and he knew to take that as a yes. You fucked yourself harder, borderline attacking your clitoris, bringing yourself closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me, baby, cum for me,” he breathed. He pulled back, leaving your mouth empty.

“Seungie, fuck!”

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast, crashing into you like a bursting star. Seungmin let out a long, drawn-out moan, crying out your name. A splash of cum landed on your cheek, another on your lip, on your chin. You licked what you could reach, swallowing greedily.

“Thank you, Seungie,” you panted. He wiped your cheek with his finger, bringing it to your mouth. You sucked on it gratefully, and he moved to grab a tissue from the bedside table, cleaning up the excess.

“I had no idea you were into that,” he remarked with a laugh.

“I had no idea you were into that,” you fired back.

He shrugged, still grinning. “Me either, baby.”

[prettieinpink]

Hi I really love ur blog and I was wondering if you have any tips about nails, bc my nails grow long but are so flimsy that they keep breaking off and bending easily, no pressure or anything

♡♡♡

GUIDE TO TAKING CARE OF NAILS

DAILY CARE

Avoid nail polishes that contain formaldehyde and dibutyl phthalate as they can cause your nails to weaken over time. Highly pigmented polishes can also cause weak nails. To avoid this, take breaks from nail polish and go natural from time to time. 

Use cuticle oils frequently, which varies from the condition of your nails. If you don’t have cuticle oil, vaseline or a lip balm is a good alternative.

Keep your nails away from dirty or wet environments. Dirt can nurture the growth of bacteria and wet nails are weak nails. If you have to be doing things that include excessive moisture or dirt, try to wear gloves of any kind.

Stop biting your nails and picking at them. While both are difficult habits to break, both can destroy the health of your nails. Be very mindful of how you treat your nails.

Wash your hands thoroughly when needed. Before and after you eat, you go to the loo, you handle food etc. When we wash our hands, The grime under our nails is also being washed away.

Nails are not tools. Don’t use them to open cans, remove stickers or open boxes. This will weaken them in the long run and increase the chances of them being chipped or broken. Use the provided tools you have instead.

Avoid prolonged exposure to harsh chemicals like cleaning products or acetone-based products. They can strip your nails of moisture which causes breakage

WEEKLY (AT-HOME) MANICURE

If you have nail polish on, don’t peel or pick at it but use a nail-friendly nail polish remover gently with a cotton pad/ball.

After that, if needed, file or trim your nails to your desired length. For smooth cutting, wipe down your nails with a wet cotton ball or wipe. 

Get a bowl of warm water and soap to soak your cuticles in. Then use a soft brush or a clean toothbrush to gently exfoliate your nails. You can usually use a little bit of your body scrub or a tad bit of sugar. Then, dry your hands & nails with a small microfiber towel.

Apply cuticle oil or any cream to moisturise your nails, then massage that it for a few minutes to stimulate nail growth.

Apply your polishes in the correct order. Base coat, nail polish then top coat. 

Moisturise with a nice hand cream! 

[hyperactively-me]

king!ghost x reader -- duties

warnings: none

Five months.

Five months, two weeks, three days, and seven hours since he’s been gone.

More weeks pass, and you’ve fallen into your role quite comfortably. You have no more troubles juggling daily tasks, council meetings, and managing the kingdom’s affairs. The weight of your responsibility has become a familiar companion, and you navigate the challenges with a grace born from necessity. Yet, Simon’s absence has gnawed you to your bones. 

You were barred from stepping even a single toe outside of the castle gates, confined to the castle walls. It had frustrated you to no end, but you understood where the concern stemmed from. Obviously. 

The war continues, and each day brings its own set of difficulties. The reports from the front lines aren’t as optimistic as they once were, but there’s still a glimmer of hope. The Southern Kingdom persists in its aggressive pursuit, but Kastron’s forces stand resilient. Simon’s letters start to arrive at irregular intervals, long stretches of time going by without hearing from him. 

It makes you nervous, only receiving letters every three to four weeks instead of the usual once a week. 

Your worry etches lines on your face as you pore over the maps and reports. The uncertainty of Simon’s safety hangs heavy in the air, and the constant dread becomes a silent companion in your daily life. Your familiar routine is resolutely tainted with the anxiety of the unknown.

Soap remains a steadfast friend, standing by your side throughout the days. Some days, you don’t really see him, other days he’s practically glued to your side. He’s become not just a protector, knight, and guard, but someone you can be vulnerable with. A true friend.

One evening, as you sit in the dining room with Soap, a familiar voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Your Majesty, a messenger has arrived with urgent news,” announces a royal guard, stepping into the room.

You look up, setting down your fork. You have to take a breath, wanting to groan about how you haven’t had a moment of peace in months. 

You know Soap is already running through strategies in his mind, wanting to take some of the burden off of you. 

“What news do they bring?” you ask wearily. 

The guard hesitates before delivering the message. “The Southern Kingdom has launched a major offensive. Our forces are engaged in battle, and we need reinforcements.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. The war has escalated, and the threat to Kastron has never been more imminent. Soap’s expression darkens as he stands by your side, exchanging a glance that conveys the gravity of the situation.

“We need to act quickly,” Soap says, his voice steady. “I’ll gather our forces here and organize them to be sent to the front lines immediately.”

He stands from his seat, his armor clinking as he moves. The urgency in his demeanor is quite apparent, and you nod in agreement. Soap’s efficiency and decisiveness makes you feel slightly better, knowing that he’s capable. As Soap departs to mobilize the forces, you rise from your seat. The familiar routine of your ruling takes over, and you find yourself issuing orders to prepare for the impending conflict. 

. . . 

Later in the week, you’re faced with more harrowing news of villages spread throughout Kastron who were unfortunately caught in the crossfire of the war. 

The reports of the collateral damage weigh heavily on your heart. Villages once filled with life and laughter are now marred by the scars of war. The people, innocent bystanders caught in the turmoil, look to you for guidance and aid.

Now, more than ever, you’re spending all of your effort in your waking hours to provide them with relief. The castle’s war room became a somber gathering place as you, Soap, and key advisors discuss what supplies and support is to be sent to the villagers. 

“I will not let my own people suffer,” you declare, determination burning in your eyes. “We must send help to these villages immediately. Food, medical supplies—whatever they need. I want it done, now.”

Many advisors nod in agreement. “We’ll organize relief efforts. Ensuring the safety of our citizens is of utmost importance, your majesty.” 

As they begin coordinating the relief missions, you allocate resources and personnel to help the affected villages. You go through countless lists and inventories of important supplies, deeming which ones are needed and necessary to be distributed to the afflicted villages. You also spend time gathering doctors, knights, and other important personnel to send them out to tend to the villages. The castle’s front courtyards transform into bustling hubs as supplies are gathered and medical teams prepare to depart.

In the midst of the chaos, a messenger arrives with a letter. The familiar wax seal of the royal family signifies that it’s a letter from Simon. A surge of anticipation courses through your veins as you break the seal quickly, hands slightly shaky from the adrenaline.

Your eyes scan the familiar writing, clutching the paper tightly. The letter carries both relief and worry. Simon recounts the intensity of recent battles and expresses concern for the well-being of Kastron. He reassures you of his safety multiple times, yet it does little to ease your heart. He emphasizes the importance of your resilience, saying that your efforts from the castle have not gone unnoticed from the battlefield. 

As you absorb his scratchy handwriting, Soap approaches, his gaze curious. “News from the front lines?” he asks quietly.

You nod, a mixture of emotions bubbling within. “Yes. Simon is well, but he doesn’t seem as optimistic as they once were. I mean, the letter was dated about two weeks ago, so there’s no way of telling what’s currently going on.” 

Soap’s brow furrows in concern. “Well, we just sent the reinforcements a few days ago, I’m confident they'll do more than help.” 

You appreciate Soap's attempt to offer reassurance. “I hope so. It’s just, the war hasn’t let up at all, and it’s really starting to concern me… And everyone keeps saying that we’re doing well despite some setbacks, but I can’t help but feel as though something bad is going to happen…”

Soap places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I ken that feeling. It’s a heavy burden, but remember, Kastron has weathered storms, and we’ll weather this one. Yer doing more than you realize. And, nothing bad will happen, not with me around and his majesty out there alongside Price and Gaz. We’ve got this.” 

You swallow thickly, nodding. You take a few breaths, trying to calm your frayed nerves. 

He’s right, after all. You have Soap here looking after you, and a castle packed to the brim with guards and knights. You sent out reinforcements to struggling villages, you sent out hundreds of more soldiers to the front lines. You’ve been taking the reins in every single Kastronian affair, from advising noble people to organizing relief efforts. Your determination and resilience have been the beacon for your people, a symbol of hope in these trying times.

You’ve got this. 

. . . 

Days turn into nights, and nights into more weeks. The war room remains a constant hub of activity, but there’s a sense of progress. Reports start to arrive detailing the impact of the reinforcements and the relief missions. Villages that were once on the brink of collapse are now showing signs of recovery. The people, though scarred, hold on to the hope you've instilled in them.

As the days go by, the momentum continues to shift. The Southern Kingdom, faced with the new Kastronian reinforcements, begins to slowly lose its steam. Not to say the threat is receding, but you now have more hope than you’ve had since the war started. 

One evening, after a particularly long day, you and Soap find yourselves on the balcony overlooking the courtyard. The sounds of the night echo a strange sense of serenity and ominous undertones despite the ongoing turmoil.

Soap leans against the balcony railing, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “Ye’ve done well, yer majesty. The people look up to ye, and I think we’ve gotten past the worst of it. We’re on the path to recovery.”

You turn to him, grateful for his presence. “And I couldn't have done it without you, Soap.”

He gives you a half-smile, “Nah, you give me way too much credit. I’ve done nothing. It’s all you, yer majesty. All you.”

You smile, shaking your head. You can see where he’s coming from. 

Soap’s eyes meet yours, a glint of sincerity reflecting in them. “But I appreciate the sentiment. It's been a tough road. Yer strong, resilient, and caring. The people see that, and they believe in you.”

You lean against the balcony, the night air carrying some unexplained tension. “It’s not over yet, Soap. The war has really affected everyone, and even if we’re turning the tide, there’s still a long way to go.”

Soap nods, understanding your hesitancy. “Aye, there is. But ye’ve already set the wheels in motion for a better future. The relief efforts, everything you’ve been doing, it’s all making a difference, ‘specially in the long run.”

As you both stand in silence, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves, and the distant sounds of the horses in the stables break through to you. Soap breaks the silence, his voice low but determined. “I just also wanted to say, yer doing Simon proud. I can see it in everything ye do. And when he comes back, he’ll find you in your prime, and Kastron stronger than ever.”

A bittersweet smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “Thank you, Soap. I just wish he were here to see it for himself.”

Soap places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “He’ll be back. And when he does, Kastron will be upright. Ye’ve kept the flame burning, y’know.”

The war is not over, but the worst seems to have passed.

Or so you thought. 

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge part 2

Honestly, you forgot entirely about the challenge the next morning.

Rolling out of bed with a pounding headache, you showered quickly and tried your damdest to recover from the hangover with copious amounts of coffee. Training today would be absolute hell.

"Oi, bonnie!"

Nevermind, it seemed you couldn't even make it to training without encountering problems.

Soap bounded into the rec room, looking far too happy for a man who had drank his weight in beer only hours beforehand. Somehow even his footsteps were loud, not to mention his voice.

"Interesting night, eh?" He called, sliding up next to you where you had- rather ungraciously- flopped onto a couch. "Ooch, seems like someone cant handle their drinks well. Need your old boy to help, maybe give you a massage-"

"Stop sucking up," Gaz called, walking into the room. He too seemed fairly put together, although how they were managing this act was astounding to you. "Coddling her wont make this any easier." He took a seat on the couch across from where you and soap were sitting, studying you carefully.

"Ugh, 'ave a little fun eh?" Soap laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "The boys 'n I were talkin' last night, agreed we should set some rules up. Make this a bit easier, hm?"

You just stared at the two of them like they were idioits.

"I'm sorry- what are we talking about?" You asked, sliding away from Soap's playful grasp.

"The bet you made last night." Price and Ghost walked into the room at the exact same time, one smoking and the other holding a water bottle, just getting back from a workout. You had to figure out how the fuck these guys were functioning right now.

"Don't tell me you forgot?" Price asked, looking at you down his nose. All of a sudden the previous night rushed back to you- the singing and dancing on stage, telling the others you had been in theater as a teen.

Making that stupid fucking bet.

"Oh- you cant have been serious about that? I was drunk, I didn't really mean that-"

"Oh no darlin', don't go backing out now." Simon said, leaning against the counter. "Your word is your word, and we had a deal. Whoever finds ten photos of you, all taken before your junior year of highschool, gets to have you as their little plaything for a day."

Various murmurs of agreement come up around the room, and its then that you realize exactly what it is that you've set yourself up for.

"Quite honestly, sweetheart, I don't think any of us are backing down. It's a fairly simple challenge, anyways." Price smiled, and moved to stand right in front of you. His voice dropped to a sultry rumble, that you felt in the deepest corners of your body. "I mean, if I can say, I'm almost a hundred percent certain I'll have you tailing me around base by this time next week." He blew the smoke from his cigarette around your face, and winked at you. "See you at training, darling."

For what felt like forever, you sat on the couch dumbfounded at his obvious attempts at flirting. Slowly, the other three filed out of the room, moving to do their own daily routines.

Soap crouched in front of you, waving a hand in front of your face. "Don't mind em' yea? He'll keep. 'Sides, I promise when I get my way with you I won't be nearly as rough." He laughed and stood, patting you on your head.

"See yer at training, lass!"

Fucking hell.

My Masterlist

[skzcre]

Felix gives me piss kink vibes idk… 🫣maybe it’s just me

hmm … solid theory, anon. let me offer this as a rebuttal 👀

warnings: piss kink and other sexual themes, fembodied reader. little bit of perv!lix in there 😳, reader gets called “good bunny”.

it wasn’t unusual for you and felix to shower together. sometimes, it was the most effective thing to do during busy mornings where both of you definitely should’ve been out of the house 20 minutes ago but you slept through the alarm. other times, it was a means of being close.

both of you were very clingy, very needy, and enablers of each others baby behavior. sometimes neither of you want to let go, but you both know you need a shower before going to bed.

this was one of those times.

“y’know, we could’ve just taken a bath instead.” felix chuckles softly, sitting behind you with his arms wrapped firmly around your waist while you washed your legs. you responded with a simple shrug. “didn’t feel like standing.”

so you both were sat in the tub with the shower running overtop the both of you. “isn’t it nice to just lay down and let the water run over you?” you turned your head slightly to meet his eyes, a smile immediately growing on your face before giving a peck on his freckled cheek. he hummed in agreement, watching the droplets splatter across your chest. “‘s kinda like a sauna. we’re fucked if we fall asleep, though.” it wouldn’t have been the first time you both dozed off in a bathtub together.

a comfortable silence fell between the both of you after some small chattering about your daily happenings. the soap running off your body caused you to slip downward a bit, but it was the perfect position to rest on felix’s chest and soon after his pretty fingers began tracing patterns over your soft skin.

but then, as it always happened the second you got comfortable literally anywhere, you had to pee.

you grunted as you started to sit up and of course, felix’s grip on your waist got tighter. “mm, don’t wanna get out.” he whined, and you giggled before playfully smacking his arms. “i just gotta pee, lix.” your boyfriend began to sit up with you but he didn’t release his grip.

“i’m literally not leaving the bathroom—“

“you can just do it here.”

you turned your body a bit to look at him, searching his face for any signs that he was joking but you were instead met with a straight face. in fact, he was looking you directly in your eyes. the way he looked at you when he wanted you. and suddenly, your heart rate sped.

“n-not in front of you, that’s…embarrassing.”

now he was smiling, bringing a hand up to rub his thumb over your jaw. “this would definitely be very low on the list of embarrassing things we’ve done in front of each other.” well…that was true. felix will never not bring up the time you fell off while riding him in his gaming chair. or the time he came on your face and it accidentally shot up your nose and you were essentially snot rocketing cum for the rest of the night.

but this was different! wasn’t it?

“if you flush, the water’ll turn cold. and don’t you say you’ll flush when we get out because we both know you’ll forget.” goddamn him for knowing you so well. you let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding for so long, turning forward again to lay back on his chest. “i…just. you don’t think it’s weird?”

felix shook his head, pulling you closer to rest his head on your shoulder. “i don’t mind.” his hand laid flat against your tummy, and you could swear he was ever so slightly pressing against it. maybe you were wrong? suddenly things started to feel really hazy, like you were floating in some kind of dream world. maybe it was the way he was staring so deeply into your eyes, or maybe it was his lips being so close to your ear. how he spoke softly, but just loud enough for you to hear him over the running water. your brain tried to weigh your options here, wanting to have a conversation with your body about what exactly was the “right” thing to do.

however, your bladder was having none of it.

you began to squirm just a bit, and felix began to pry your legs open, peering down at your lower region. he smiled, running his fingers over your inner thighs. “go ahead, baby.”

before you could begin to ask why he was staring so intently at…well, everything, a stream started flowing down the tub towards the drain. why did this feel so intimate? your hands quickly came towards your face in a feeble attempt to hide your face as if that was going to do much of anything.

an interesting look crossed felix’s face as he watched you. some kind of mixture of curiosity but also lust? something about the way you trembled in his arms before letting it out, the way you hid your face but let him open your legs to spectate. god, you were really cute. when did his brain decide this was so sexy? “good bunny. doesn’t that feel better?”

and now his fingers were trailing closer and closer to your core, finding a familiar wetness between your folds that caused his cock to twitch behind you.

[reidintoit]

all you had to do was stay - j.m.

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: in which the pogues have been stuck on poguelandia for a couple weeks, and not everyone wants to leave when help arrives.

warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy

word count: 1.2k

It had been almost two weeks since getting stranded on the island, or Poguelandia, as JJ ever so generously decided to name it. 

In that time you were impressed at how far along Poguelandia had come. John B and Pope had become experts at hand fishing. All while JJ had done an impressive job of building a shelter. It really wasn’t anything too fancy, given the resources, but having a place to shield yourself from the weather was a win in your book. 

The only prominent downside was having no soap to properly bathe with. And that we all only had one outfit, which was also in dire need of some soap. 

Another inconvenience we were reminded of was when Sarah got her period, then Kiara almost hours later. Cleo wasted no time in bragging about not having a period to worry about thanks to her IUD. 

-

“Here-” you broke the conversation, “I have a couple of tampons that have dried out since the swim. Not the most hygienic thing, but it’s this or nothing.” 

Kie took one from you without hesitation, while Sarah visibly looked revolted at the thought before giving in. “Absolutely disgusting, but thanks Y/N.” Sarah thanked you, walking in the opposite direction of Kie.

“Shouldn’t you keep one for yourself?” Cleo implored, causing you to tense up. There’s no way she knows I’m late. Does she? No. 

“Oh, uh-no. On the shot, probably won’t get mine for another month or so.”

The truth is, you were late. As in almost two weeks late. Before this, the longest had been maybe three days. But this was different. You were away from home, obviously stressed to the max. Your period was most likely just off due to your stress. And not the unprotected sex you had.

-

You could tell that being away from home was starting to weigh on everyone’s minds. Kiara feared her parents already reported her missing. Sarah didn’t know where Ward might be, but it was obvious she missed having a house to go home to. Pope knew his dad must be worried sick. John B wondered if somehow Big John returned while he was gone. 

You, JJ, and Cleo seemed to be the only ones who didn’t care to go back. 

JJ hadn’t seen his dad in months. Not since him and Kie helped get him off the island. He didn’t seem too distraught about being alone, considering you had stayed over almost every night at the chateau since you two started dating. 

While your parents were still around, you knew they weren’t missing you. Or noticing your absence, really. Your parents had never been abusive, they just didn’t care about you.

So, at the moment, being hundreds of miles away with your best friends felt like paradise. That is until Pope and John B noticed a plane flying above on their daily fishing trip.

-

“Guys! Hey- Come look!” John B’s voice suddenly pierced through your ears, causing you to look up from the fire pit that you were currently digging in, attempting to build the flames higher.

“What man?” JJ asked, pushing up off the ground from his spot next to you. You raised an eyebrow at whatever John B was going on about, watching him struggle to catch his breath while running up the beach. 

“There’s a plane overhead! Look!” 

As the three of you collectively looked up, you saw it almost immediately, slightly surprised that it wasn’t just John B hallucinating. “Holy shit!” JJ shouted back, sharing JB’s excitement. 

“Come on, everyone’s waving it down by the landing strip!” John B continued and started running back towards where he came from. JJ looked down at you, who had gone back to digging in the fire pit. 

“Hey, babe. Come on- we have to get their attention!” 

“You go, I’ll stay here and start gathering some things.” JJ nodded and leaned down to quickly place a kiss on your forehead before running down the beach after John B.

Fuck. fuck. There was no way you were going back to OBX. Life had been so much better since getting here. Going back to a family that hated you sent a chill down your spine at the thought. Especially if you really were pregnant.

You noticed the plane turning around as you stood up from the pit, then JJ running back towards you, to tell you the good news you presumed. 

“Y/N! They’re getting ready to land. Let’s go!”

You shook your head with your back towards him, not realizing that you were frozen in thought staring at the fire you finally had started. 

“I’m not going J..” you whispered, unsure if he heard you. He must have, because you felt a gentle grip on your wrist, urging you to turn around. 

“What? Babe, look at me.. please?” JJ pleaded, sounding defeated and confused at your sudden decision to stay on the island. You dropped your head in defeat, “I can't. I-I can’t go back, okay? I don’t want to.” 

You felt the hand on your wrist release as your boyfriend maneuvered around to stand in front of you. You opened your eyes to see JJ’s face full of concern as you bit your lip, salty tears rushing down your face. 

“Baby.. I understand.” JJ reached out to wipe away your tears, feeling the pads of his fingers across your cheek. “I don’t want to leave either. This has been awesome.” 

You harshly pushed his hand off of your face in response. “No, you don’t understand! I’m late..” pausing to take a breath, “I don’t know if I’m pregnant, obviously there aren’t any tests here, but I know I can’t go back. My parents.. they-they already are so disappointed in me. I’m free here.”

JJ was quiet after listening to you explain. He was disappointed in you for sure. You wondered why he wouldn’t just say it. Blame you for being irresponsible and potentially getting knocked up. You deserved it. 

Tears started pooling up again as you turned away from JJ, who still hadn’t moved a muscle. “Wait, Y/N.”

“Just leave.” you begged, voice cracking.

“I’m not... Y/N, fuck!” he shouted, wrapping his arms around you and turning you back to him. “I’m not leaving you here. If you do happen to be pregnant, I’m going to be by your side every step.. Okay?” 

You rolled your eyes, looking down at the sand between the two of you. “You don’t want that.. you’re just saying it.” 

JJ cupped your cheek, tilting your head back up towards him. He studied your face as you took a deep breath, opening your eyes to see him smiling at you. “No fucking way Y/N. Just the thought of having a mini you running around makes me so happy.”

“Really?”

“Really baby.” JJ pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Now, please, come home with me?” 

You nodded in agreeance, smiling before you felt his lips on yours. There was nothing you wanted more.

[josefavomjaaga]

Napoleonic daily soap, episode 5: 12 Vendémiaire

Scene: The Tuileries. Evening, torch lights. People running to and fro, soldiers gathering in the courtyard, scared members of the Convention barricading themselves.

Cut to Barras’ improvised war room. A table with a map of Paris. Barras walks up and down behind it, talking to some generals gathered in front of him, among them Brune and Napoleon.

Barras:

„I do not need to tell you, gentlemen, that the situation is dire. I mean, we’re having a real crisis here, with people wanting to kill us. Again. Royalists this time. And as I do not know the first thing about military stuff, I have called for you, so that you can take care…“

Napoleon [cuts him off]:

„Why, of course you would have. And it’s a good thing you did. [walks briskly up to the table and leans over the map, the other generals follow suite, completely ignoring Barras] So, let’s see. The obvious keypoints we have to protect are [points at the map] here, here and here.“

Brune [annoyed]:

„Possibly. But what makes you think you are giving the orders here? Don’t you think you should ask our opinion first?“

Napoleon [astonished]:

„Why? I mean, is there something I overlooked, do you not agree with me?“

Brune:

„No, you’re quite right, it’s just that…“

Napoleon:

„Well, excellent. Listen, Brune, you take a couple of men and position yourself here. The other gentlemen occupy the rest of the positions I have pointed out. [turns around to Barras] And as I am the only artilleryman here, I’ll take care of the canons. We’ll position them right at the entrance of the Tuileries, in order to give those insurgents a proper welcome.“

Barras [awkwardly]

„Well, about those canons… that might be a problem.“

Napoleon:

„What problem?“

Barras:

„We don’t have any.“

Napoleon:

„No canon? But I’m an artillery general. Why did you even call for me then?“

Barras:

„Well, I thought…“

Napoleon [annoyed]:

„I really do not like it when people waste my time. Or when an employer does not even provide the proper tools for the job. I am not used to bringing my own stuff to work, that’s highly annoying. But I can see that you are in deep shit indeed, so I will let it go. Where’s the next artillery depot?“

Barras:

„There are some canons in Sablons, I am told. But I’m afraid the royalists know that, too. They’re probably already on their way to get them. And as they do outnumber us, I doubt you will find somebody dumb… I mean: courageous enough to try and get those canons to Paris before them.“

CUT to new scene: Tuileries courtyard. Darkness, a fire burning. Several cavalrymen holding in the saddle, happily chatting with each other and with some foot soldiers nearby.

Murat [on a horse, proudly tugging at his pelisse, to a soldier]

„So, how do you like it?“

Soldier:

„I do not think it’s in accordance with army regulations for cavalry uniforms.“

Murat [grinning]

Of course it’s not. It has style, unlike our army regulations. Plus, it’s my favourite colour. You have to see it in daylight.

Another cavalryman:

„I have. It’s an eyesore.“

Murat:

„Correction. It would be an eyesore on you. On me, it’s the most fetching piece of clothing one can imagine, and I dare say the ladies will pay much attention to it.“

[Napoleon’s voice from off-screen]

„Hey, you there. On the horse!“

Soldier:

„I think he means you, Murat.“

Murat:

„Impossible. If he meant me, he would have said: Hey, you there, that most handsome and dashing one on the horse! [turns around, beams at Napoleon] What can I do for you, mon général?“

Napoleon [stops to regard him]:

„I do not think your uniform is quite in accordance with army regulations.“

Murat:

„That’s quite possible, sir. We’re cavalry.“

Napoleon:

„Whatever. I have an errand for you. Do you know where Sablons is? I need somebody to go there and pick up some canon for me.“

Murat:

„Sounds easy enough. Where’s the catch?“

Napoleon:

„You have to be back before daylight, and there’s a royalist mob on the way likely to attack you. Do you think you can do it?“

Murat [sits tall in the saddle, with dramatic flourish]:

„How can you even ask me that, general? Do not doubt me, I am Joachim Murat! Here we are, I and my men, to your service, ready to give our blood for the fatherland and its republic, ready to bring those canons here before rose-fingerend Eos awakens the day, or to die trying! Let all impertinent royalists of France stand in my way, let an army of ten thousand waylay us, it will not keep me from doing my sacred duty!“

Napoleon [stares at him open-mouthed, but without a word, as realization sets in]

„You are Gascon.“

Murat [beams, proudly]

„I sure am. [the smile vanishes, he leans down from his horse to Napoleon, in a serious tone] But I will still get you those canons, sir.“

Napoleon [nods]

„Be quick.“

[honeybubblebeeeeee]

Coming Home || Dabi x reader

Dabi has been missing since the raid on the League's base

Days had gone by since the League's base had been raided. A few of those who resided there had been captured, or killed. The news was updating the events daily, new discoveries and arrests but I only watched for one thing, him.

Dabi had been there. I had seen him on the tv. His blue fire ablaze as he fought back against the heroes but eventually the cameras stopped focusing on him and that was the last I'd seen of him.

He had a key to my apartment, which he used regularly even though he refused to move in with me. I had texted and called his phone more times than I could count but he never answered and it never even rang.

I never really slept either since he'd been gone. If I did sleep it was on the couch in the living room with the tv on. I had hoped I would somehow wake if they brought up Dabi.

The night went on. I tried to do some work on my laptop but couldn't help but stare at the tv, scanning the footage I've seen probably a hundred times by now just hoping to catch a glimpse of him that I might have missed. Some indication of his health.

At some point I had fallen asleep, the tv still played as I slept uncomfortably on the couch. A loud noise woke me as I sat up, the front door wide open. The coat rack that usually stood beside the door wasn't there. I stood abruptly to look past the couch.

I could have cried.

I moved quickly as Dabi tried to pick himself up from where he was sprawled on the floor. I placed my hands on his side as I rolled him onto his back, he groaned at the movement. Words were lost as I looked him over. Some of his staples were missing, blood stained his skin, whether it was his own or someone else's was hard to tell. His eyes slowly blinked open.

"hey dollface." He tried to smile but winced as blood spilled from his wounds.

I had a million and one questions but he wasn't looking good. I moved quickly, closing the front door and running down the hall to the bathroom, turning on the shower and running back to where Dabi laid. His eyes closing.

I cupped his face as his eyes forced open. "Hi baby, I need you to stay awake for me, okay?"

He shook his head slightly as I helped him sit up. "I'm alright don't worry about me."

Typical of Dabi to be stubborn even when in such a state. I helped him up and slowly helped him walk as he limped to the bathroom. Leaned him up against the sink, as I moved to make sure the water was at a proper temperature.

"We gotta get these clothes off you" I moved to slowly pull his jacket down his arms.

"I mean I missed you too doll but I don't think I can perform at this very moment." His voice was weak as he tried to joke, typical of him to act unserious in a moment like this.

"Dabi could you be serious for a single second." I threw his jacket into the hallway, his t-shirt torn in places, the fabric darker from soaked up blood. He winced as I got him out of the rest of his clothes and settled him into the bathtub. He relaxed as the warm water softly washed away the past couple of days.

I moved to the bedroom, pulling out clean clothes and leaving them on the bed, as well as some black towels. I dropped them in the bathroom, making sure he was still breathing, as I pulled out the large medbag I kept in the closet. Dabi had showed up in a similar state many times before and at this point I was prepared. The relief of him appearing finally still lingered but now wasn't the time to act on it.

I grabbed the shower head and kneeled beside him, turning it to a softer setting and using a small soft cloth and soap to clean up the wounds as best as I could. His eyes followed my movements, his body relaxing.

I worked quickly to remove broken staples and replace them with new ones, Dabi didn't wince, mostly used to the feeling at this point. I covered the few cuts he had, thankfully he seemed to mostly escape with minor injuries. His lack of energy and disappearance was probably from the toll his quirk had on his body.

Cleaned up and bandaged. I helped him up, dried him off and got him into a pair of sweats before he flopped onto the bed and closed his eyes. He was safe, he was alive, I'd let him rest and hound him tomorrow with questions.

I had my own shower to clean off the blood, cleaned up the bathroom and threw away his destroyed clothes. Righted the coat rack and shut off the tv.

Dabi still laid in the same position, his chest rising and falling. I moved to the bed to lay beside him, the light from the lamp illuminating his skin that was slowly returning to his normal colour from the pale look he had only a couple hours ago. His head turned to look at me, a soft smirk on his face.

"Come here darling." He lifted his arm and tapped my head to move to him.

I inched towards him and rested my head on his shoulder as he held me.

"I was so scared I wouldn't see you again." My voice came out barely above a whisper.

"You can't get rid of me that easy." He kissed the top of my head.

"Touya..." He sighed and tiled my head up to look at him.

"I know, I'm sorry. I lost my phone in all of the chaos and I was so burned out after I couldn't move for literally an entire day. Everyone went underground so I was left to my own devices." His voice sounded tired. Not just physically but mentally, I know he had goals but it was taking a toll on him.

I cupped his face and kissed him. "You should stay with me from now on." He seemed to be considering it and pulled me closer.

"You don't want me all up in your space all the time doll. You'll get tired of me." He closed his eyes but I sat up and glared at him. He peaked one eye open and sighed. "I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to lead any of those losers back here. I'm safe with you. I don't want to compromise that." He rubbed his hand down my arm before pulling me back against his chest.

"I feel safest with you, when you're here." I whispered back to him.

He seemed to think on it for a moment and then squeezed me against him forcing a giggle out of me. "Alright doll, you convinced me but you need to promise me a couple things?"

I looked up at him and nodded as he looked down to me.

"One, if any of those idiots even catch wind of you or where you live, you're moving. Two, if you're working late I'm coming to get you, the weirdos come out at night even more since the raid. And three, you can't ever get rid of me." He stared at me with a cheeky smirk on his face.

I pretended to ponder, deep in thought. "You're right sounds like a lot, never mind." I rolled over and he grabbed me pulling me back as I laughed.

"Like I said sweetheart, you're stuck with me." He kissed my cheek as he reached over me and turned the lamp off.

(also send requests! i appreciate them they help smmmm with writers block <3)

[itsjustmylifeconfessions]

I loved episode 6 for so many reasons (Pedro your Emmy nomination is secured!) but two things really caught my attention while watching the episode and seeing people reacting to it (on YouTube, twitter, here...)

The amount of male reactors that didn't know what a menstrual cup was, and even thought it was some sort of birth control, shouldn't have been surprising to me but damn y'all really don't know anything do you?

One video I watched they were saying Maria was trying to control Ellie, by giving her birth control and cutting her hair against her will. They did not think Maria was being genuinely helpful at all.

Now let me tell you, as a woman, I would have helped another woman with everything she needs immediately. We have a shower, let me get you a nice soap. Need period products? I got you. I have scissors do you need a haircut? Let me get you clean underwear, do you need a bra? Here have a hair tie.

When Ellie found the tampons in ep 4 that made me so happy, then this happens and this display of not only women's solidarity towards each other but this awareness of our daily issues actually warms my heart.

I've always wondered what it would be like to be a woman in an apocalyptic world. We need these things. We don't just want them, we need them. I have cramps that are so bad sometimes I think I'm gonna pass out, even if I take meds, but I have never, not even once, watched a scene with a woman even acknowleding her period. unless if for some bulshit pregnancy arc but don't get me started

The second thing was that a lot of people (not just men in this case) thought that Joel was having a heart attack, when it was so clear he was experiencing something like a panic attack/anxiety/PTSD episode.

The lack of awareness on mental health is so clear. Maybe it's because I deal with anxiety and know what it feels like, but I understood immediately what was happening in those scenes.

We are so used to not talking about it. It should be so obvious to everyone but it wasn't. Because we don't even discuss this in real life.

I love that the show doesn't shy away from such important things that somehow for us are taboo. Mental health, women's health, these are things we don't really see in shows like this and I love that they are not hiding from it.

Ellie is a girl, she has periods. She also has a lot of trauma to unpack. Joel is not a robot, he's been through so much of course there's trauma there, of course he'll have PTSD and anxiety and have panic attacks on the possibility of caring for someone so much again and failing to protect them.

Anyway, I'd love to talk about everything I've been loving about this show but this post is too long already. I'm loving how they are adapting this story, they are doing a fantastic job, and the things they are changing/adding are only making the story better, and I can't wait for what's coming next.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Could you please write more about pregnant Tiriel? Your writing about her finding out she's expecting and about Astarion hearing the baby's heartbeat were one of my favorites?

Synopsis: Astarion takes care of pregnant Tiriel.

Tags: dadstarion, pregnancy, fluff

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Waiting

“I think I am going to die in childbirth,” Tiriel says, pressing her face to her knees.

Astarion would sigh if he could. Tiriel sits shoulder-deep in a bath of warm water, as the vampire washes her hair and rubs her back.

“You aren’t going to die. You are a half-elf and I am sure the child is rather small. Look at your belly, you are in your last month and it’s not really showing.”

Tiriel turns away. Well, to call her belly small would be an underestimation – her slim body is currently betraying pregnancy. It’s covered in stretch marks that won’t disappear, ever. But again, Astarion has seen many pregnant human women in Daggerlake within the last five years and Tiriel has definitely been spared, carrying someone who takes after their elven ancestors.

But once Astarion thinks he’s managed to cheer her up, Tiriel sniffs.

“What if something is wrong with the baby? You are a vampire! I love you and all that, but you are still undead! What am I even carrying inside? And what if the child is sick? Or deformed? Or…What if it is going to kill me?”

“I can promise you, if something goes wrong, we are saving you,” Astarion splashes water on her hair.

“Thank you.”

He kisses her shoulder. “Don’t worry that much, the last thing you need is to cause a complication.”

Tiriel touches his fingers. 

Astarion adds more soap to the tub. The scent of vomit and sweat still lingers on Tiriel’s skin and Astarion takes a clean piece of rug.

Tiriel has been feeling so bad in the last few days she barely left her bed. Her legs hurt, she couldn’t eat without vomiting, and she hardly slept because of back pains. She finally made herself go out that evening to eat properly, but, the moment Tiriel finished her dinner, she felt nauseous and everything Astarion had cooked for her ended up on her home shirt.

That moment, Astarion had enough of that and carried Tiriel to the bath. 

“I'm sorry,” she says.

“What for?”

“I look disgusting.”

“Nothing is disgusting about a pregnant woman,” Astarion says, rubbing her left ear. “Besides, I’ve seen and done much worse things than giving a bath to someone I’ve knocked up. Your condition is my fault and I am taking full responsibility! Now, let me wash your front.”

Tiriel presses her back against the tub allowing Astarion to get to her belly and legs. Astarion smiles seeing the visible bump and carefully rubs the skin.

He is so close he can hear the second heartbeat. 

It is not clear to him when the child is going to be born. Elves are pregnant for two years, but Tiriel’s body is hardly capable of doing so. Humans need nine months for the same process, but Astarion has learned from the healers in Secomber, the closest big town to Daggerlake, that it’s never clear with half-elves. And it also depends on the child – Astarion tries to think about the baby as an elf with just a bit of human ancestry (still enough to fuck up the gentle elven biology).

But in reality…

The child is half-him, half a vampire anyway. And that should bother him.

He is afraid of that moment. He waits for that moment to come. And he also misses Tiriel in sensual terms. He wants her blood (which is out of reach for him till she stops breastfeeding), he wants her body (they haven’t had sex ever since she got pregnant). 

And he wants her to stop being in such pain daily.

“I look ugly,” Tiriel chuckles. “Don’t try to say it’s not true.”

“It's not. You are beautiful!”

Suddenly Tiriel flicks his nose. “My eyes are here.”

Astarion realizes he’s been staring at her swollen breasts and small droplets of white liquid on Tiriel’s nipples.

“Stop all this nonsense, Tiriel!'' Astarion takes her leg and stretches it to wash it better. “I like caring about you. I like how you look. And I absolutely love that it's me who did this to you. It all feeds my vampiric possessiveness, after all!”

“And I love that it was you who did this to me,” Astarion feels Tiriel’s fingers on his cheek.

“Now, get out of the water before it gets too cold!” Astarion brings towels. “Is food still out of the question?”

“I want something hot to drink.”

“I will make you herbal tea, then.”

Astarion, after making sure she is dry, carries Tiriel to bed.

He looks outside. What he loves about his house in the underground part of Daggerlake is the big windows. There is no point in hiding from the sun, and Astarion can enjoy going outside whenever he wants. Besides, the biggest part of the town is underground too, and Astarion also doesn’t feel like an outcast.

And his neighbors have seen much worse things than vampires who know the law.

Suddenly Tiriel yelps. He turns to her and notices the night shirt she’s put on is wet. 

But wasn’t Tiriel's skin dry when he took her from the bath?

Tiriel hugs her belly and lets out a cry of pain. 

“Tiriel…” Astarion rushes to her. No, not today. He still needs time to get ready.

Tiriel grabs his shoulder. “Go to the healer… I am.. Gods…”

The child has decided to be born today. ------ You can read what happens next in Little Bundle of Darkness --

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[kneelingshadowsalome]

Would you mind talking more about Ghost? I dig your interpretation on him so i'm curious if you'd share your thoughts; since i know how COD in general writes these characters and we know romance isn't on the table for them, ESP for someone like Ghost (even confimred by his voice actor too!)

So all that aside, in your opinion, what would it take to win Ghost's heart (or well, Simon's)? :)

It's great to hear you like my interpretation of Ghost! I'll gladly share my thoughts on this, the supposed love life of Simon Riley is one of my favorite subjects 🧐

Thoughts on what would it take to win Simon's heart under the cut ->

To be honest I see it highly unlikely that Ghost would date. I think Samuel Roukin's opinion on this matter was spot on. Simon's traumatic background, trust issues, the need to stay anonymous and his profession as a special ops soldier is just too heavy a combo. His family's murder and multiple betrayals have pushed him on a path of extreme independence and made him evade any kind of attachment.

That being said... I'm a hopeless romantic and love to imagine scenarios just like every other little simp here 🩷💋, and I've pictured (and occasionally written) him to be drawn to someone who is principally the opposite of himself, but who also has a dash of angst in their heart and firsthand experience or at least some basic understanding of complex trauma.

A positive vibes only/sunshine type of person would not resonate well with his darkness, and a carefree joker would only annoy him. Then again, there's Soap – but the thing with John MacTavish is that he shares the same profession and in that way, is not a stranger to the Underworld. Their banter is also evidence enough that Soap is not afraid of Ghost's madness and even looks up to him – actually a perfect way to make someone like Ghost enjoy your company. This man has a terrible praise kink but he can't stand spineless bootlickers. So the adoration should happen in a "I trust you and would follow you to hell & back" kind of way.

However, due to the shit he's been through, I'd say (contrary to popular headcanon, I dunno?) that Simon would likely fall for someone outside the military world. First of all, he's very uncomfortable with the fact that his partner has to fear for his safety. But the fear of losing his partner to the dangers of this profession would be a little too much. It would only trigger a shitload of PTSD stuff. The fear of losing a loved one again would override the mutual experience and bonding through warfare, all the elements which otherwise might be pull factors in a military love interest. On the other hand, people with traumatic backgrounds tend to repeat the pattern, no matter how horrific or unsafe, simply because it's familiar. Still, I'd say someone from the base personnel would be a more alluring option for him. The shared hell, so to say, could make the foundations of this relationship quite dark. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing!

Deep down, Simon would be attracted to softness. Not innocence, per se, just something different from the realm in which he operates. This is why I think he could definitely fall for "a normie". He would appreciate dark humor and a certain kind of fearlessness, however. What ultimately would win his heart is someone who can stand, even cherish, his melancholy and cynicism and life choices and who is not on a quest to change or "fix" him.

I think Simon's ultimate wish is to find a home because he has lost it (or hasn't really had one in the first place). He's a leader and has to provide safety and support on a daily basis to the people under his command. But who offers support and safety to him? He knows how to protect people but doesn't know how to create a safe space, so he would appreciate someone who makes him feel he's finally found his way home. I think he yearns for a small measure of peace and a slice of normal life to wash away the adrenaline and blood and filth, he wants a small corner free from the demons that haunt him, even if he would reluctantly (if ever) admit that he does.

[horrorshow]

The only thing that’s really changed, is now I need a daily rape shower. OK, you’re right. Let’s go with Plan B. Oh yeah, we don’t have one. So till we do, sorry dude, stock up on soap-on-a-rope. Dean, if you wanna get my soul back, that’s what we gotta do, OK?

John & soulless Sam + objectifying and pimping out Dean

[leviathxn]

So mutual feelings (romantic)

Can you do like a Miguel x reader where its reader day off and she decides she wants to take a warm shower and listen to music so she puts on headphones and listen to pop or Spanish music or whatever(I was listening to follow the leader by Jlo that’s where this idea came from) and Miguel tries to call her because he needs help with some paperwork (not really he just won’t admit he misses her) so Miguel ends up going to her universe and to her apartment where he sees her in a towel dancing to music and singing along and finds it adorable

That’s the basic idea you can make it have a spicy end or just fluff , it can swing both ways , you can decide that

Okay this made me giggle 🤭

I can like imagine his face being from kind of cold/a little annoyed too this like little gummy smile 😩

—————————————————————————

“What could this woman be doing”

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As a member of the Spider-verse you very rarely had time off. Sure, your universe was safe, but you were frequently called to help other Spiders and their anomalies. Work was your life, and of course their was downtime but fighting bad guys was exhausting, it took up a good chunk of the day, even week.

Your boyfriend, Miguel, even had slowed down your missions. Once he had started to like you, he pulled a mission once a week, which at first confused you but now that you’re dating, he’ll try and pull you from anything. You never really listened though, going on any mission possible. It’s your job, and the spider crew was fun to be around.

But finally, you decided to listen. Miguel had sent out missions with everybody on it, he never put you there, but he knew you would go. This time you pulled out a coffee mug, turned off your watch, made some fancy coffee (you’ve been dying to finally sit and enjoy this new coffee machine you got and it’s finally the time), and took a big stretch. This was your day, and you knew your city was safe ever since installing city watch bots (thank you Miggy 💕).

About two hours passed, people had gone on their missions, you finally finished savoring that beautiful coffee, and you paused your show. You hadn’t been able to watch it because of work and there was so many new episodes. You got up and gathered your supplies. A new body wash and scrub set, your shaving supplies, a scalp massager, and anything else you needed in the shower. This would be an everything shower, and it was gonna be perfect.

You set up your speaker and stepped into the shower, shuffling your everyday playlist. You took your time, the water falling at just the right pressure, the soap feeling perfectly smooth on your body, no missed hairs when shaving, and little to no fall out when washing your hair ((girl I’m practically shedding in the shower with how much hair falls out, I wish 🙏)).

On the other end, Miguel was concerned, annoyed, confusion, everything under the sun. You hadn’t gone on any mission, weren’t seen in headquarters, and you weren’t picking up any calls. You were one of his best spiders, his most cherished one, and very rarely did you listen to him and take off, so where could you be?

So he took it upon himself to find you. There was no reason to send a man hunt, not unless you were in danger of course. That thought stayed in the back of his but god was he frustrated. It’s apart of his daily routine to see you and you messed it up now doing who knows what.

As he set a portal to your home he sighed. Whatever was going on he’ll figure it out now. He stepped through into your living room. It was a cozy space. He noticed your candle lit in the living room. He knew you were home, you weren’t stupid enough to leave a candle unattended. As the portal closed and he could hear properly, music played from your bedroom hallway. His steps were quick, his worry subsided but now he was curious, what were you doing. As he peeked his head around the corner, there you were, bathrobe and hair wrapped in a towel, singing your favorite song while picking out what lotion to use. Not only did you look beautiful but you smelled amazing too. A small smile graced his face as he leaned on the door frame. You had those moments were you were unaware, stuck in your own world, enjoying your own things.

You realized he was there when his hands gently wrapped around your waist. He gently pulled you closer to him, head resting on your shoulder. He let out a big sigh after taking a breath of you. He was obsessed, totally and utterly in love. Your hand found its way into his hair, combing through it while appreciating his embrace.

“You didn’t want to work today?”

“Miguel…. Stay here with me.” He didn’t say anything. He made his way over to the bed as you threw one of his big shirts on, something that was always left in your home. You took your hair out of the towel, making your way to the bed before melting into Miguel’s arms. Yeah, today was a good rest day.

—————————————————————————

Hello Everybody! I hope you all enjoyed this and thank you for the request! I can imagine his face and it’s so scrumptious! I hope you all have a blessed day 💕

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