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heavyhitterheaux · 18 hours

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Touch Me, Tease Me (NSFW)

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: Pure filth with a sprinkle of fluff 🥰

Synopsis: One thing that you can always do is help Jack relax and turn his bad mood around

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Do not engage if underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The time on your phone read 10:26 PM as you heard the front door open letting you know that your husband was back.

Urban had sent you a text about 45 minutes ago telling you that Jack was in a mood, but he couldn't figure out why and as much as he tried to get it out of him he couldn't. So, his next best option was to tell you in the hopes that you could get to the bottom of what was wrong and make him feel better.

The bedroom door was open and Jack didn't even greet you as he walked in despite you speaking to him first.

“Hey babe.”

Instead, he simply slipped off his New Balances and laid on top of you with you letting out a yelp because you weren't expecting him to do so.

His head was on your chest as you wrapped your arms around him and he hugged you tighter.

“Hmm, smush? You wanna talk about it?” You asked him and he immediately shook his head no.

“Now you know we don't do that around here. We talk about how we're feeling so it doesn't cause a shitstorm later.” You said as you started playing in his hair.

Jack lifted his head to peek at you and you simply kissed his nose while giving him a small smile.

“So spill It.”

“I just missed my wife. I didn't want to do anything today.” He finally confessed as you pinched his cheek.

“You're so cute, but you're back now so you need to relax. Did you eat?”

“Yes. Urban made me.”

You made a note in the back of your mind to text him and thank him because knowing Jack and how busy he tends to get, it wouldn't be unlike him to forget to eat.

“Good and you aren't doing anything tomorrow so you can sleep.”

“Baby, we have six kids. What is sleep?” He asked while raising an eyebrow at you.

“I… well I'll text Clay to see if he can take them out tomorrow so you can rest.”

“If you ask him he'll say yes. If I ask him, I'll have to go through my mom.”

“Jackman, you are so dramatic. Clay loves spending time with them.”

“Don't you remember last time? He dropped The triplets off 2 hours early.”

“Well yeah because they ate him out of a house and home.”

“They're going to summer camp because they can be fine all school year and the MINUTE that the last damn bell rings on the last day of school they act like we haven't fed them since birth. Talking about ‘daddy, I'm hungry’ when they ate less than 20 minutes ago. Fuck outta here. Need to start paying for groceries if they want to eat so damn much. In THIS economy!?”

You couldn't help but to bust out laughing, but you knew he was completely right.

“We'll worry about that when the time comes, but for now I need you to do something.” You replied as you played with his beard.

“What do you need babe?”

Before you answered him, you leaned forward to kiss him and he eagerly kissed you back.

“Get up, lock the door, and you need to lose your clothes. Now.”

Jack simply smirked before kissing you again and then he got up and made his way over to the door to lock it.

By the time he turned back around, you had lost all of your clothes and he was looking around dumbfounded.

“What the? How?”

“I literally wasn't wearing that much to begin with, now come on.” You laughed as you were now sitting on the edge of the bed and pulled him closer to you by the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Off now.” You told him as you tugged on them, but instead he slowly slipped his shirt off and threw it in the corner.

“You're teasing me and I don't think I like that very much.”

All he did was smirk, but was caught off guard as you got his sweatpants and boxer briefs down in one swift motion and began stroking him.

“Shit, baby.”

“Do it again and I won't let you cum.”

Hearing this, Jack immediately put a hand around your neck stopping your movements.

“It's honestly cute how you think you're in charge. You know better than that baby. I run this.”

“Hmm, we'll see.” You softly answered as he let go and you took him in your mouth, but suddenly had an idea.

You stopped and simply slid all the way up in the bed and Jack was looking at you confused.

“My dick isn't going to suck itself. What's going on, baby?” He asked as he was stroking himself and peering down at you.

“Sit in between my legs.”

From that moment forward, you knew he was at your mercy.

Kicking his sweatpants the rest of the way off, he did as he was told and his back was now leaning against your chest.

Your arms went around him as you leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“You always put me to sleep and now it's my turn to return the favor.”

All he did was lean his head back and you lightly kissed him while smirking.

You started kissing down his neck and snaked your hand around to continue stroking him. The precum was now leaking as you massaged the tip of his dick before continuing to move up and down the shaft.

“Oh fuck.” You heard Jack quietly say and he adjusted himself so that you would be able to have a better grip.

By now, he had simply closed his eyes and now had his head resting against your chest. He tried to move to the side to be able to put your pierced nipples in his mouth, but your movements immediately stopped.

“Stop moving, Jackman.”

“But…”

“Just be patient.”

He did as he was told as you continued pleasuring him because the last thing he wanted for you to do was stop again.

You lost count of how many love bites you left all over his neck, and knew that he wouldn't be complaining when the two of you were finished.

Soft moans and whimpers were leaving Jack's mouth every few seconds and you simply slowed down and quickly heard his protests.

“Baby, come on.”

“Hmm? What's wrong?” You asked, knowing exactly what the problem was.

“You know what you did. I was almost there.” He whined and you simply laughed to yourself.

“Now you know how it feels, huh?”

“Baby, let me fucking cum.” You heard as he tried to increase the pace of him moving in the palm of your hand.

“Or what?” You asked as you stopped completely.

He turned around to look at you and kissed the side of your mouth.

“Don't ask questions to the things you don't want the answer to. Your ass won't be able to walk tomorrow if you keep fucking playing with me.”

“Who said I wanted to walk tomorrow?”

Jack let out a light chuckle before turning back around.

“Famous last words.” He replied as he patted your thigh and knew that it was going to be a long night.

You spit in your hand before reaching back around and sped up the pace of you stroking him.

“Yes, baby. Keep fucking going. Be a good girl and make daddy cum.”

Not even a minute later, he released all over your hand and you kept stroking him as he rode out his high with you kissing him.

Between kisses you heard his moans and the stickiness between your thighs was becoming more evident and could no longer be ignored.

You two sat in silence as Jack got himself together before he flipped over to see you licking his cum off your hand making him get bricked up all over again.

“Mmm, tastes so good. And what were you saying about me not being in charge?” You asked as you looked at him hovering over top of you.

“Don't fucking start with me because we are nowhere near done.” He said as he slowly entered you.

“Oh shit.” You breathed out because you were caught off guard.

“Don't get scared now. Take this dick.” Jack said as he pounded into you and placed his hand around your neck.

“And if you're a good girl, I just might let you cum. Open your mouth.”

Listening to instructions, you felt warm liquid hit the back of your throat.

“Swallow it.”

As you did, you smirked up at him which made him halt his movements and slide out of you.

“Turn around.”

Now on your knees with your head resting on your arms, you felt Jack's warm tongue as he started to eat you out from the back.

“Fuck, baby. It feels so good.”

A few minutes had passed and without warning, he abruptly stopped and slid into you.

“Arch that back and act like you want this.” You heard him say but not before there was a hard smack to your ass.

You did as you were told and knew that this wasn't stopping any time soon.

About an hour later, Jack was fast asleep on your chest as you played in his hair and you couldn't help but to laugh to yourself.

And as much shit as he talked, you still put his ass to sleep.

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow smut #jack harlow fanfiction #jackman thomas harlow #Spotify

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 2 days

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Hail storms

Requested: No

Warnings: Spicy 🌶, Religious themes (Kyle’s), Oral Sex (Kyle’s) Toxic relationships (Simon’s), Angry Sex (Simon’s), Bondage (Alejandro’s), Spit Kink (Alejandro’s)

Characters: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alejandro Vargas

Word Count: 1,448

A/N: New layout, woooooo!!!

Gaz - I’m Not An Angel

I wasn't always this way

I used to be the one with the halo

The weight of the gold cross on his clavicle burned as he watched you from across the pub, the sound of Soap’s laughter, of Price’s scolding words, of Ghost’s heavy breathing, it all faded into the background. Like the static of an old radio that you could never tune quite right. But you, you were clarity. The perfect pitch of some singer rising above the other soft noises.

He’d never had a one night stand before. Thought about it, prayed about it, but he could never bring himself to do it. Could never bring himself to let himself taste the sweet fruit of sin that he so often craved. The same one his pastor warned him of when he was but a boy, years before the man that sat in his place now. But he finds himself crossing that threshold now, the devil tugging him closer, a marionette on cursed strings.

“Hi.” He says, as he sits beside you, fingers trembling as he holds onto his mug of cheap beer. “I’m Kyle.”

But that disappeared when I had my first taste

And fell from grace

The taste of you in his mouth was sweeter than anything he had ever had, more than the grapes his mother used to pack in his lunch tin when he was younger, but yet you were also more bitter than the wine that followed communion bread. Innocence turned to pain and fear and blood. But none of it could ever be more holy than. No holy relic would ever be able to bring him to his knees the way flesh between your thighs did.

And when you ran your nails through the stubble of his hair, your eyes piercing and heavy as you stared down at him, he knew the cross he wore meant nothing anymore. A false idol, trying to take your rightful place in his heart. He squirmed impossible closer, tongue out as he panted for air, so desperate to keep tasting you that he was barely a centimeter away.

The chain of his cross broke easy under the grip of his fist, and he heard the soft ting of it hitting the floor, before it was lost to him.

It left me in this place

I'm starting to think, maybe you like it

Kyle woke last the next day, an unusual occurrence considering his line of work. The smell of freshly brewed earl grey curling pleasantly in his nostrils, rousing him from the pleasant warmth of your bed, flaccid cock hanging at his thigh when he slips out from beneath the sheets.

“Love?” He mumbles, feet dragging on the ground, feeling all too much like a newborn lamb, limping after its shepherd after just being born. Like the world was made anew, with you as his guiding light.

And that light led him to the kitchen, where you leaned against the counter, dangling his cross between your pretty fingers.

Meeting his eyes as you let it slip into the trash.

Ghost - I Miss The Misery

When you tell me you'll make it worse

(I'd rather fight all night than watch the TV)

The front door slammed open, your shoulder blades digging painfully into the hardwood as Simon rammed you into it, his hands ripping away at your clothes (clothes he bought you, clothes he loved on you, clothes he always loved to take off), your own tearing away at his skin, nails shredding away at skin like cheap paper, leaving raw bloody lines on his back that were sure to sting .

Some bitter and angry part of you hopes that the next time he tries to have a sleazy fuck with someone else, that they’ll see this. See what you do to him. And know that they’ll always be insufficient by comparison.

Cause no matter how hard you fought, no matter how loud you got. There was a simple truth you needed everyone to know about him.

He was yours. Now. Always. Forever.

I hate that feeling inside

You tell me how hard you'll try

“Promise I’ll get better.” He’s whispered in your ear countless times, curled around you after the latest round of angry sex, clinging to you like a lifeline, like he hadn’t had his hands curled around your throat not even half an hour ago as he told he how much you pissed him off, how much he hated you. “Never do it again. Promise, Love.”

And it was always a lie.

But he promised everytime, even knowing it was futile, fragile, already broken. Floating in the air like the moans you let out in the bedroom, under him with his teeth buried in your shoulder. Fucking you like he wanted to kill you with his dick. Headboard slamming into the wall so hard it cracked, brittle paint chips falling to the floor. And you couldn’t deny how god damn good it felt, everytime you fought your way back towards each other. Like opposing magnets, like heaven and hell.

But when we're at our worst

I miss the misery

The morning after, he was in the front room of the house, grouching and grumbling loudly about how he had to fix the hole the doorknob made again. His side of the bed was still warm from his gargantuan body, making you curl into it, seeking him and his heat out without specifically calling for him, though you knew he would come running with only a word from your sore lips. Eager to flee back to your side and crawl above you once more.

You smiled into the pillows, one full of teeth and mischief.

You couldn’t wait to do it all over again.

Alejandro - Do Not Disturb

Let's take our clothes off

I wanna show you my hidden tattoo

“This is cute.” You chuckled against his lips, back pressed firmly against the cool wall of his apartment, running your fingers over the crow tattoo that arched over his broad hip. The beady eye of the mischievous avian staring right back at you.

“Yes, what every man wants to hear during sex. Cute.” Alejandro laughed in return, darkened hazelnut eyes gaining a hint of amusement as he took your hand and placed it right on the patch of black ink. “Go ahead, touch it. You’re the only one that’ll ever get to see it.”

“Only me, huh?” You cooed in an almost mocking tone of voice, raking your nails along the razor sharp feathers of the ink bird. His skin jiggling pleasantly for you when you reared your hand back to give his ass a playful little slap, the sound of it reverberating in the room along with his grunt. “Well, aren’t I just honored?”

That nobody ever gets to see but you do

Oh baby let me taste ya, shake ya, tie you up and break ya

Hands tied above your head with a silk tie, his silk tie. A brilliant deep blue that stood out against the barebones gray sheets and pillowcases. Blue digging into your wrists in a delicious combination of pain mingling with pleasure. The same as his hips slapping against you with every inward thrust.

“Such a good pretty thing you are.” He huffs, leaning forward and pressing your knees to your chest, constricting your airflow just the smallest bit, white starbursts flashing behind your eyelids. “Letting me tie you up and have my way like this. Gonna let me spit in your mouth next?”

In response, you simply opened your mouth and let your tongue roll out.

'Cause I've been alone, left on my own for too long

Oh damn, too long, too long, too long, I say come on

“Come on.” He huffed, tweaking your nipple, grazing his teeth over the thin skin that stretched over your collarbone, a bruise or two sure to form with how rough he was being. “Come on, come on, come on.”

And come you did, with seizing muscles and flailing legs, a high pitched cry crawling out from your lungs and bursting out your swollen mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks in rivers as you throw your head back in ecstasy. Barely even noticing the way his hips started to stutter before he spilled inside of you, thick white seed covering your insides. Rolling his hips a few more times to really push it all in before he pulls out and collapses beside you, narrowly missing crashing on top of you.

“So….” You start after a few minutes of you both catching a breath, turning to him with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin. “Round two?”

#cod #call of duty #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader

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satancopilotsmytardis · 20 hours

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Romantic Gestures

Pairing:Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Commissioned by @swordcrossedlover. So a few months ago Duster blew him out of the water when it came to celebrating Valentine's Day, and then Dabi completely fucked up returning the favor on White Day. Now, as they hit their one year anniversary of dating, he really, really wants to get things right as he and his lover spend the day together.

Contents: Tooth-rotting fluff, BDSM, Sir kink, Praise kink, Feminization, Lingerie, Anal fingering, Anal sex, Creampie, Riding.

Word Count: 7342

It probably would surprise absolutely no one that Dabi has never been in an extended romantic entanglement in his life. He's not sure how or when in his life he ever would have been able to make some kind of romantic relationship work at all, given how he spent his youth obsessed with living up to his lost potential, his adolescence in a coma, his teenage years on the streets trying to keep his skin from falling off, and time as a young adult trying to figure out how to kill his father. So realizing that he wasn't just hooking up with his boss but that they were actually dating had been a shock. Realizing that they kept dating, that they were sharing their space, and now living together completely in the PLF, that Tomura wants to keep him for as long as he can have him, and in no way seems ready to run for the hills, was a bit of a shock. But what ends up being even more shocking is the fact that they have been dating for a year. Sure there was a chunk of that time where Duster was off floating in a tube, but it's been a year now. Their work with the PLF is getting stronger and stronger, and they're getting so much closer to being able to tear apart hero society before anyone sees them coming. They're stronger than they were when AFO was commanding the organization from the shadows. And, perhaps most astonishingly to him, they're happy.

Toga is thriving being around so many people without anyone being scared of her. Twice is getting treatment for his condition and is making strides to actually be able to use his quirk to its fullest effect. Compress has the best prosthetic that could be designed and has fully adapted his fighting style around his disability. Spinner's finally not a Stain fanboy anymore and is actually working to grow his own fighting style around his quirk instead of trying to mimic the serial killer’s. Tomura's body is no longer at risk of falling apart under the strain of his teacher's quirk and is making it his own with each new piece he unlocks. And he's... better. He's never going to be good, his quirk will always be too strong for his body, and the scarring across his skin is permanent unless he gets years and years worth of reconstruction, but having access to medicine, money, and a safe place to live means that his open seams have finally closed, the burned skin slowly fusing back together with the other parts and leaving him no longer falling apart if he loses a few staples for whatever reason. He's put on more muscle, his chronic pain has gotten less severe, and he's... happy.

And that's to say nothing about how he and Duster have been since they became, like, a real couple. A real couple that shares a living space, sleeps in the same bed each night, shares meals, and spends their downtime together. The sex, of course, is nothing to overlook, but the domestic things, the emotional things, that they've had in and around that, is more shocking to him overall. He didn't think he was capable of having anything in him besides his anger and revenge. Duster agreed to take up space right alongside that however, never pushing to be more to him than that. It's unbearably sappy that he'd managed to fall in love with him anyway.

Which is why, when they start to come up on their actual anniversary, Dabi alternates constantly between being pleased that they literally made it this long without anything disastrous happening, and humiliated because that means he has to come up with something to do for said anniversary. He got lucky that neither of them did anything for each other's birthdays because they just hadn't even mentioned them until well after they'd passed. Christmas had been a League thing instead of a couple thing after how much of a year they'd had so far, and Dabi had thought he was safe from holidays. In his defense, he had never once celebrated Valentine's Day, or seen his parents celebrate it when he was growing up. It was absolutely not on his fucking radar. In fact, he had been extremely annoyed when his schedule had suddenly been cleared and he was without anything to do for a whole day, especially when the others all seemed to be turning and running the other way whenever he tried to find or talk to them. To top it all off, Duster wasn't even around either because he was with the doctor.

So he had been annoyed, alone, and without anything to do. He went to train with every intention of just letting that wear him down to nothing and then going to pass out for a while, possibly after getting high. He was even more furious when he found out that his training area was currently blocked off as something he couldn't get a clear answer about was going on, so he skipped it and decided, yeah, no, he was going to get absolutely loaded, pull the curtains shut, turn off all the lights in their room, and curl up under the blankets until he passed out from heat stroke. And he had gone back to their room.

To find that Duster had his lunch already delivered and waiting for him, that the bath was filled and steaming with milk, honey, and fucking rose petals, and his love had left him a bowl to smoke as well. Dabi had caught on then that this, of course, was Tomura's doing, but he didn't know why he'd arranged for this while he was away. Maybe he just felt bad that so much of his work had gotten shifted onto Dabi's pile while he was busy, but Dabi had decided that he would give his lover shit about it later. He had his lunch, smoked in the bath, and when he'd gotten out, it was to find new clothes laid out for him on their bed, his e-reader all loaded up with new books, a set of confidential files that his lover somehow got out of the Endeavor agency, and a note asking him to get dressed and go to the roof at seven. He was more than happy to lounge around mostly naked, reading and scheming to kill time for a few hours before getting dressed in the red lingerie, black dress pants, and black silk shirt that had been left for him before he headed up to the roof.

To where Tomura had been waiting with a whole candlelit dinner. He fucking went all out wining and dining Dabi, who was already reeling just from the fact he'd paused his treatments to come see him. He'd pampered Dabi and made him feel like a princess before the other man had even taken him to bed, and then he had taken him to bed and made him float so high, for so long, that Dabi had really, seriously thought he was in danger of dying from bliss. And he still hadn't caught on to it being Valentine's day until Duster had murmured it in his ear.

He was a little mortified then to realize what he'd been missing the whole time, but he was able to deflect that by punching him in the side and telling his lover not to treat him like a girl outside of their sheets. But he still felt like he had to do something for White Day. Tomura told him that he didn't have to, he was more than happy to just spend the day with Dabi, but he had been so thoroughly shown up, he was desperate to prove that he was capable of being as romantic as Duster. Which was a hell of a lot harder to do when he didn't have any clue how to be romantic for Duster. The classic shit worked on him because he had never been treated to any kind of classical romantic gesture, and the embarrassment that came alongside the thin curls of pleasure at being treated as precious now, had made it heady. But Duster didn't care about that stuff, and Dabi had spent a humiliating month trying so hard to plan something only to end up burning dinner because his emotions were going too high and his quirk was out of control, chocolates that melted, and so frustrated and upset at his failures, that Tomura wouldn't take him to bed for anything but cuddling to calm him down and make sure he felt better. It was a massive failure and Dabi was bound and determined not to let anything similar happen for their anniversary.

///

Dabi wakes up early the day of their anniversary. He has a plan god damn it, and he's not going to sleep through it. Duster isn't in their room which probably means his insomnia kept him up for most of the night, to the point he went to his office to work. So Dabi goes and showers quickly before going back into their closet. He had his lover pick out three different sets of lingerie that he would like to see him in and Dabi settles on the set that he wants to wear and throws on his normal lounging clothes overtop, though he does opt for one of Tomura's kitten-soft fine-knit red sweaters because he knows how much Shig likes it when he wears his stuff and his color. And when that's finished, he heads right to their common area and kitchen. The rest of the League isn't around, and he didn't expect them to be this early in the day, so he starts prepping ingredients without having anyone breathing down his neck.

He and Tomura agreed that they both got to plan things for the day in equal measures, and Duster gets to plan and surprise him with their scene tonight if Dabi gets to decide on dinner. And this time he's not going out of his way to attempt making the fanciest thing that he can think of. He's not going to stress himself out over any of that. But making dessert in advance and leaving it to chill until later will make it perfect. He does, perhaps, make certain that all of the ingredients that he had delivered were the best quality that money could buy for this, but the recipe itself isn't complicated and he's made it for the League before. It's the only dessert that he's ever had Tomura not only eat, but eat more of without prompting, and he figures that will be perfect for tonight.

He brews up the strongest espresso he's ever made in his life and makes sure to let it cool a bit before he moves onto the next steps. He also puts aside a smaller container to make a miniature tiramisu without alcohol since Toga hates the rum in the original recipe. It only takes him a short while to have the dessert assembled in its dish and put into the fridge. And then he pauses, , takes their memo pad off the fridge and writes a note,

'If any of you fuckers cut into this before I do, I'm burning off your dicks. Don't fuck with me.' And then a second note for the little container, 'For Toga, alcohol-free :)'

He slaps them on, puts them away, and then brews fresh coffee for he and Duster, along with some toast and a rolled omelet and then he heads to the other side of the villa to their offices. He knocks on the door as a formality more than anything before catching the handle and slipping inside. Shig is at his desk and smiles when he comes in, and from the budget reports he's reviewing, Dabi knows that he's happy to see him for more selfish reasons than usual.

"Happy anniversary, firefly."

"Yeah, yeah, happy anniversary, come have breakfast with me."

They sit together on the little couch and have their food and coffee, and when they're done, Tomura pulls him closer and gives him a kiss. "What are you doing up so early, baby?"

Dabi nuzzles right back in. "Had my own shit to do this morning. But now I'm finished and I want to know what you have planned for the rest of the day."

"I don't have anything planned outside of tonight, precious." Tomura says.

"No hot air balloon ride?"

"No."

"Picnic on the burned out remains of my childhood home?"

"Not unless you want to go on a fieldtrip."

"Proposal in front of the entire organization?"

"No, you wouldn't say 'yes' if I asked in front of other people." And he looks beyond amused at this point. "But if you want a ring--"

"Don't you fucking dare. I'm not gonna marry you until after the end of the war." It's an easier thing to say now, because after about six months of dating, Duster told him bluntly, that he was it for him. Dabi was the only person he'd ever been in a romantic relationship with and thought that he wanted that to last forever. He would have probably married him then, just in case they got arrested so that they might still be able to have visits with one another in Tartarus, but Dabi had smacked him across the back of his head and told him to stop being a sap.

"I guess I better win then." He murmurs, pulling Dabi in for another kiss. He lets himself melt into that. It's been a year. He's tired of pretending that he doesn't soak up every drop of affection that he's given. Tomura kisses him slow and sweet, one hand cupping the back of his neck, all five fingers on him because he can control his quirk completely now, because he made himself so much more powerful, but instead of showing the world what a threat he is, he'd come right home to him so that he could hold his hand without making it hurt.

Dabi all but crawls into his lap, tangling his fingers through his lover's soft hair, so long now it's curling down his back, and lets his lover hold him close and lick behind his teeth. But when Tomura's hand strays to the hem of his sweater, Dabi catches his wrist and parts just enough to breathe, "Not until after dinner."

"Alright princess," he rubs their noses together before giving Dabi another sweet peck. "So what do you want to do today?"

///

And instead of killing himself trying to think of something romantic for them to spend their time doing, Dabi just wants to spend the day with each other. They head back to their room, and it's not fancy baths, rose petals, and candlelight, it's he and Shig lazing about, his feet in his lover's lap as he taps away at one of his games and Dabi reads. They talk when they feel like it, they kiss and press in close for cuddles when the mood strikes them, or strikes Dabi mostly. He doesn't try to outdo the romantic gestures that Shig did for him before. He just lets himself soak in the gentle affection that they've been cultivating between them for the past year. And Tomura seems more than happy with that. Dabi knows he's prickly most other times, too embarrassed, too self-conscious to let himself be as unabashedly warm as his lover is to him. But he doesn't let himself get into his head about that today, he just lets himself enjoy the things about their relationship that he's been receiving for so long now, and he puts away the fear of them being ripped away if he does something wrong. Tomura wouldn't ever abandon him. He would tear down the entire world for him and then put it back together dust particle by dust particle if it meant that he would finally believe that this is something he doesn't have to earn.

The hours pass, but it's so easy to not notice the time going by. When they were apart, every hour felt like sandpaper being dragged across his mind, but when they're together, time flows like water and it's hard for him to feel like they've spent the whole day together as the sun begins to set because he has just been in a heavy fog of contentment. He only notices because he had an alarm set so that he would know when their dessert had been chilled long enough to be ready to cut. He takes that as an opportunity to text for the dinner he'd already set up to be ordered to be picked up and goes right back to being cuddled close and with his lover.

It takes about half an hour before his phone chimes and says that the food is ready, so he reluctantly extracts himself from his lover. "Are you cooking?" He asks, and there's no expectation or judgment in the question, just, maybe, a faint concern after how poorly things had gone on White Day.

"Nope. I'll be back in a minute."

"Do you want--"

"Stay."

Tomura's brows raise and Dabi knows that's going to earn him a punishment, though he hopes he saves it for tomorrow and doesn't change whatever he has planned for tonight. He does stay where he is though, turning his attention back to his game as he looks for a save point.

Dabi goes and is happy to see the two brown bags of takeout sitting on the counter with his name on them, and is amused to see Toga sitting on the couch with her container of tiramisu, eating it smugly while the others look like they're vibrating as he goes over to the fridge. He takes out the container, cuts two sizable portions, sprinkles on a bit of cocoa powder, and then gathers his bags on one arm and holds the plates in his hands.

"Go for it, you freaks." He's fairly certain he hears the others descending on the dessert like rabid dogs, but he doesn't pay them any mind. He goes back to his and Shig's room and finds the other has put away their electronics and has clearly remade the bed and probably picked out whatever he wants to use on him tonight and relocated it to the bedside drawer for easier access.

Dabi sets down the bags and they start to take out the food. Shig blinks in surprise. Dabi tends to gravitate towards more traditional dishes when he picks dinner, or really any meal. His formative years cooking were for things that were traditional because his father was traditional and focused on keeping his house as traditional as possible. But the others, and Tomura especially from his upbringing of meeting with and traveling all over with AFO, means that he is more likely to pick out food from other places around the world if he is tasked with picking their meal. So the Indian takeout instead of an elaborate, romantic Japanese dinner, and the ice cold six pack of beer is definitely a surprise.

"Why Indian, firefly?" He asks, but it's definitely not a complaint as they start to open up the different takeout containers.

"Cause the night that you and I stayed up until past three working on getting the summer camp job ready, this is what you ordered, and apparently it was the first time you ever got me to laugh, which you also apparently could not shut up about for a solid week--"

It is rare that someone as shameless as Duster ever manages to get embarrassed, but faint splotches of pink start on his cheeks. "I don't--"

"Spinner ratted you out."

"I'm going to kill him."

"He also said that you consider that our first date, since we didn't really have one before I let you blow my back out." Technically, if that were true, then their anniversary would have been two months ago, but Tomura had actually asked for them to be something beyond fuck buddies a year ago today, and presumably hadn't wanted him to know about how sappy he was, so today is the day they're celebrating. "You can't kill him, he's your best friend."

"I can maim him."

Dabi doesn't argue with that, he knows his lover wouldn't ever do it anyway.

///

They eat and the food is good, talking is good, it's so easy to be with Tomura now. He came clean about Toya a few months ago, and doing that had removed a barrier that Dabi hadn't really thought he was feeling in their relationship. Easy for them to talk shit about Trumpet's haircut, to speculate about exactly how much inbreeding Geten had to have from that side of his family for him to be as fucking dense as a pile of bricks now, to talk about their plans, the ones that they'll be putting into practice soon, and the ones that will be getting finished far in the future after the war, and feel... hopeful for the first time in their lives. It's different than things ever felt before, and he is laughing again by the time they're finished with dinner and dessert and he's being pulled into his lover's lap for another kiss.

"Show me what you're wearing, princess," Tomura orders, his lips curved into a smile as he nips along his jaw. Dabi doesn't protest this time. Tomura let him have the day, let it be what he thinks has been an easy redemption for the absolute mess he made of White Day, and he's always more than happy to show off for his lover.

He sits up a little and lets Duster pull away his sweater, showing him the lacy red bralette he's wearing underneath, thin, strappy, and see-through the way he always likes. Never wanting Dabi to hide his scars, always wanting him in something delicate because he thinks Dabi's,

"Beautiful, baby girl." His lover has had so many other words for him and about his body, but the sincerity of this one never fails to take his breath away.

"Thank you, sir," he manages before Tomura gives him another kiss. He doesn't push to go any faster, but there is a different kind of heat that's crackling through their space now, that slow burn of pleasure that is getting hotter and hotter as his hands move over his skin.

Duster finds the places on his body that he knows so well now. He touches his sides, along his back, teasing just under his staple punctures on the healthy side where his skin is so sensitive, and he does it without being disgusted he wants to be touched there, or scared that doing so could hurt him because he knows so completely what Dabi can handle. He licks along his neck, over to his pulse point, and nibbles and sucks there to put the promise of a bruise under his skin that no one else will see, but Dabi will be able to feel for a long while, little marks of ownership that he knows he'll carry for the rest of the week with satisfaction deep in his bones. He lets out a fluttery sigh, working his hands under his lover's shirt, touching his cool skin and trying to work it up as he goes. Tomura pulls away and lets him remove the fabric, but once he has, he shifts how he's holding him.

"Come on, princess, I want to see you all laid out."

It's effortless for him to lift Dabi now, and a heady heat goes through him as he's carried bridal-style over to their bed. Being made small and easy to carry and care for, being delicate when he's a gnarled mess of scars and sharp edges, makes him feel like he's going to float away already, and Sir has barely started with him. He wraps his arms around his neck, pulling himself even closer so that he can press his own kisses there as he's taken over to the bed. Tomura laughs when he clings to him for a moment longer to give him a few more before he lets himself be put down.

But when he's on his back, Sir's hands go to his waistband and Dabi lifts his hips, helping him to take away the last of his real clothes. Duster's eyes drag up his body and Dabi is breathless from how he looks at him. "You're so gorgeous, precious." He murmurs, a hand moving up along the back of his leg as he shifts to kneel on the bed. Dabi spreads his to make room for him, and the hand hooks behind his knee, pulling that one up and open further so that he can see how his panties cling to his crotch and ass. "I love seeing you all dressed up for me." He would replace his wardrobe entirely with the clothes Tomura likes if there weren't practical reasons to not. Maybe when they rule Japan together. He could let Tomura keep him in lingerie, dresses, and finery for a whole year just for the hell of it. "But I think you're missing something to make you perfect, princess."

Through the hazy bliss already pressing in along his nerves, Dabi's mind twinges with confusion. This is the full set, this one doesn't have stockings to go with it-- Tomura leans over to the nightstand and extracts a thin square box wrapped in black paper with a brilliant blue bow on top. Dabi sits up so that his lover can give him the gift. "Thank you, sir." Tomura leans in and presses a kiss to his forehead before pulling back to let Dabi open it.

The ribbon pulls easily and he runs a nail underneath the edges of the paper until he can slide out the crisp white box inside. Tomura takes the paper and ribbon from him before Dabi opens the lid and finds, nestled in pearlescent white tissue paper, a new collar. Unlike his day collar that is just black leather with a few modest spikes and an O-ring, this one's for scening, and is a thicker pale pink ribbon and lace with gold findings, the ring at the center in the shape of a heart with letters in-- he runs his thumb over the first and realizes that they definitely aren't plastic rhinestones. No, these feel like real stones of some kind, though if his lover actually got him diamonds for their first anniversary, Dabi is going to have to kill him-- gemstones of some kind, spelling out 'Sir's Princess'. It's frilly and pretty, and tells Dabi exactly what he is, what he's supposed to be when he's like this, and how much Sir loves him for giving himself up so completely to him.

"Can I wear it?" He wants it on now, but that's not for him to decide.

"Of course you can, baby girl. You know I'll give you anything you want if you are always so sweet when you ask." Tomura takes the collar out, and Dabi gives a soft sigh as the delicate lace and ribbon kiss his neck as he wraps it around his throat. The findings and letters are heavier, making the piece feel substantial even though the body of the collar is made out of lighter materials than his day collar. Tomura secures it and then leans back to look at him again. "There. Oh, baby girl," he sounds breathless when he speaks again, his eyes and words soft with his affection, "I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I love you." He traces a finger along where the lace and his skin meet, "Or how happy I am you're mine."

His face feels hotter, his whole body feels hotter when he manages, barely above a whisper. "Love belonging to you, Sir." He never thought he would ever be able to dedicate himself to anything beyond his revenge, but he is... he is so dangerously close to letting that go if it means he can be Tomura's sword and shield in the final fight. If he can be certain that being at his side will mean that they win their war. He catches one of Shig's hands, his damaged one with his prosthetics in place, and presses a kiss to his palm. "Keep me?"

"Forever, princess." His lover tells him emphatically. And then his mouth is back against his and he's pulling Dabi close, his hands are back on his skin, stroking and teasing. Every touch screams with the desperation to show him that he means it. He would spend an eternity with him, he would tell him every day for the rest of time how deeply he's loved. Heat starts to spark hotter through his veins as Sir's hands move to his chest and he rubs a finger over his covered nipples. He changed his piercings today, studs with little dangling heart chains for the occasion, and when Tomura feels them, he smiles against his lips before he reaches back to unhook his bra.

"You're so cute, baby girl. I love how you dress up for me." And he knows how much Dabi loves his praise. He lives for it, and of all of their play, nothing makes him hotter than Tomura's sweet words in his ears as his hands move across his body. "It makes me so happy to see how much you've embraced being so pretty for me, princess."

He mewls as Sir uses one hand to unclasp his bra, but the other goes down his back, pulling him up from the mattress and then into his body until he's in Sir's lap, his thighs spread so wide. There wasn't a chance of hiding his building arousal already in his thin, tiny panties, but his cock is rubbing against Sir now in this position and his lover is smiling again as he murmurs,

"Even prettier when your clit starts to blush like that, baby girl." Which only serves to put embarrassment inside of his veins alongside the heat. He tangles his fingers back into Tomura's hair and pulls him into another kiss to staunch the flow of his words for a moment as he shrugs out of his bra and his lover brings both hands to his ass, cupping him and squeezing just firmly enough to have him moaning as he's dragged in even tighter to his body. His panties don't cover his skin completely, and even then, Sir slips two fingers underneath the lace so he can tease him as he steals his breath. He moans as he is touched, clinging onto him and rolling his hips against him to put more of that pleasure against his clit as Sir makes him get hotter.

Tomura pulls away only long enough to see the charms dangling from his chest, and he spares a hand to tease them, tugging gently on the chain so that the little tug there makes him gasp. "Should've known from the first moment I saw you that you would like having your pretty tits admired and played with." He cups one as his mouth goes to the other, licking along his seam and kissing down to his nipple. Dabi whines as he teases at the bud, nipping just hard enough that the sensitive nerves tangle that spark of pain through him and makes his clit even harder. He sucks and licks at his chest until there is a constant stream of moans coming out of him, and when he switches to the other side, he's so sensitive that just the weight of the charm hanging off of his skin has him trembling. By the time he pulls away from them completely, they're swollen and red and Dabi is even hotter because, "There, now your tits are blushing as cutely as your clit, baby girl."

"More, Sir, please?" He begs, rocking himself into his lover's hips and feeling his cock against him. That gets them both moaning, and Tomura holding him even tighter.

"You can have anything you want, princess. I'm going to give you the whole world." He promises. Dabi would give it right back if it meant he could just have Tomura like this forever. He expects his lover to make him shift positions so that he can get him naked, but Sir doesn't. He reaches to the nightstand and pulls out their lube, their best lube, the silicone lube that Sir only uses when he wants to take his time. Dabi trembles and his lover laughs warmly. "I should have had you wear white if you were going to act like my sweet virginal little bride."

And he humiliates himself by whimpering as he grinds against him again.

Tomura's eyes light up. "Oh, princess, after all of that protesting? You want to be my bride? Do you want to pretend, baby girl?"

"Sir," he whines.

"Not the words I need, baby." He's still smiling as he pulls his panties to the side and exposes him to the cooler air. "Does my baby girl need my vows first?" He teases again. He kisses Dabi before he can protest, his body going impossibly hot. It's been a long time since he felt like he was going to completely combust because of his lover's words, his pleasure and embarrassment both burning through him as Tomura slicks his fingers and starts to tease them around his rim. He goes slowly as he pulls back, his lips never fully leaving his skin as they move over his body and as he speaks. "I'm going to stay by your side forever, princess. I'm going to make sure that you reach all of your goals-- and I'm going to be there to help you even after you wish I would have given up."

The sensations in his body feel like a knife-point he's balancing on the edge of. He can't tell if he hurts or if he feels good as his lover promises those things as his fingers start to work inside of his body, slicking his skin and stroking along his walls. His nerves cry out for pleasure, but the sharpness in his chest, like every word is being taken into his heart and threatening to burst as it gets fuller, is a keening ache. But he's still moaning and desperate, trying to catch Tomura in kiss after kiss as he grinds their cocks together and rocks back onto his fingers, getting more desperate to try and get more of his skin, and fewer of his words before he shatters.

"Going to tell you every day how beautiful you are, how much I love you," Dabi whines, pulling at his hair as he fucks himself back onto his fingers. Sir gives him what he wants, angling to rub against his prostate on every subsequent thrust, bringing his need higher and higher. "Love how you moan, precious, and the way your skin smokes when you lose control. I never know if I should ever let anyone else see how perfect you are when you're feeling good, baby. They'd want you for themselves, but you're so lovely, and you love to have all eyes on you. I would let them watch so long as I know you're mine. You're going to be mine forever, won't you, princess?"

"Yes, Sir," his voice is higher, thin with his pleasure, and desperate for more. "Tomura--"

"Those still aren't the words I need for you to be my bride, baby." He sinks a third finger inside of him and Dabi keens, his clit so achingly hard it's smearing pre all against his panties, so wet that he's making Tomura's pants wet too as they move against one another. "What else? In sickness and in health? You've already been there for me when I was shattered. You took such good care of me-- of our family," Dabi's eyes burn as his chest feels like it's going to burst. "And I'm going to take care of you just the same. I'm going to change every staple, help heal every burn, and I'm going to let you know every day that your quirk didn't break you."

"Duster," his voice cracks, tears slipping over his cheeks. Tomura kisses them away and Dabi can't stand it anymore. He reaches for his pants and fumbles messily with the button and zip, knowing his hands must feel so hot against his lover's cooler skin as he pulls him out and strokes him, needing to have his cock inside right now.

"For richer or poorer? We've done both. I wouldn't ever give up the times we spent sleeping curled up together under your coat--"

"Tomura," he tangles a hand in his hair and yanks hard enough to make his lover wince.

"Just two words, princess, and I'll be yours forever."

He keens, tears on his cheeks and a desperation in him that he's never had before, as he pulls their mouths together again, "I do."

Tomura kisses him so hard their teeth click, pulling his fingers out of him. There's a fumble of movement as he gets the bottle again and slicks his cock, but as soon as his hands are around Dabi's hips again, they're shifting to bring their bodies together. They both lose themselves in a moan as Dabi takes him deep inside, his muscles trembling as he's stretched everywhere he's wanted to be.

He's too frantic to try to take things slowly. He needs his lover, needs Tomura across every inch of him so that he can be completely consumed. He wants to belong to him. He has belonged to him since the first second he walked into the bar in Kamino, and he's never known how to tell him that. Tomura doesn't struggle with his words. He doesn't doubt anything he says, and he almost never lies. He would make Dabi his forever. He would marry him if Dabi just let him ask. He would give Dabi the world and then some if it meant they could stay together forever.

"I love you, Iloveyou, Iloveyou!" He babbles against his lips as his lover helps him to move in his lap, drawing him higher and pulling him down faster than he could have himself as his muscles shake and tears drip off his cheeks.

"I love you, firefly," Tomura tells him, more conviction in this declaration than any he has made to the PLF, the League, All For One. He loves Dabi more than his war, his quirk, his people. He won't ever abandon him for any of those things. He won't ever let him go unless he asks to leave.

Dabi knows he never will.

This isn't scening, isn't fucking, it's something different and softer that Dabi never thought he would experience, no matter how much faster and rougher their movements are getting as they creep closer to their completion. For the first time, Dabi really thinks he understands what people meant when they said that they felt like they were one with their partner as they make love. They are so entangled now that Dabi doesn't think that they will ever be able to be separate again, and he never wants to be. He wants this for the rest of their lives.

It's not a surprise then, as their pleasure builds, that it builds together, and Dabi is aching, loud moans spilling out of him as his lover moves inside. "Tomura," he gasps, "close."

"I know princess," he murmurs, kissing away another track of tears. "I can always feel it when your pussy gets so hot and tight like this." Dabi mewls, his clit aching, and he can't help it, he has to reach between them so that he can cup himself through the thin, soaked lace, and grind himself against his palm as the thrusts grow harder. "That's it, baby girl. I want you to feel good. Show me how good it is, baby. Cum with me."

He's smoking as that sends him over the edge in just a few more thrusts, his lover's cock hitting his sweet spot on each one. And as his muscles tense as he cums, Tomura's groan entangles with his moans as his cock twitches before he's painting his spend all along his walls.

He feels like every bone has been replaced with jello as he slumps against his lover's chest, eyes slipping shut as he tries to catch his breath, soaked inside and his panties stained and dripping with his cum. But he doesn't care. He just knows that he has never felt safer, more complete, more loved than when he's in Tomura's arms.

///

Duster kept him full and happy a few more times before he ran them a bath and soaked with him in the tub for a long while. Then he'd dried them off and carried Dabi back to bed, and spent the rest of the night finding a hundred other ways to tell Dabi how much he loved him until he'd passed out. And when he wakes up, he is still curled into his lover's chest, Tomura stroking his hair as the sun rises behind their curtains.

"When I said you could plan a scene, I expected some fucked up, kinky shit with a lot of edging," Because that's usually what he gets when his lover wants to indulge them both for a long time. "Not wedding roleplay."

"We can do all of that today if you want to, precious. And who said that was roleplay, firefly?" Tomura presses a kiss to the crown of his head and then stretches an arm out to the nightstand, reaching into the drawer and extracting a piece of paper and a pen. Dabi gapes, incredulous as he is presented with a marriage certificate that has already been signed by their officiant (Compress) and their witnesses (Spinner and Twice). "Toga wanted to sign too, but she's not an adult."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Tomura smiles and gives him another kiss. You don't have to sign if you don't want to, baby, we didn't put any dates on it--"

"I hate you, give me that." Dabi snatches the pen and scrawls down his legal name. "I'm only signing this because I'm going to divorce you next week."

"That's fine, firefly, it just means that I get to ask you to marry me again." Tomura signs his name too, and the license looks wrong with 'Tenko Shimura' and 'Toya Todoroki' on it.

Dabi takes it and shoves it back in the drawer. "This is for the cops and the heroes. If something goes wrong, if we fail, then that's for them. But when we win," he's never been an optimistic person about his future, but he wants a life with Tomura in the world they build after the war. "You can actually ask me and if I'm in a good mood I may say 'yes', and then we can have a real wedding, as us."

He has never had someone look at him like he was the sun and moon, but Tomura never fails to. "I think that sounds more than fair, Dabi."

His lover wraps his hand around the back of his neck and pulls him into a kiss again. Maybe when they get married for real they'll do it on the anniversary of their first date, or maybe they'll make it the anniversary of the end of the war. He supposes they'll have time to think about it before then. Dabi nips at Shig's lips.

"I can't believe you showed me up again."

"What are you talking about? All I did was get a piece of paper. You recreated our first date. I'm definitely going to have to think of something extra special for our next holiday."

He can't help snorting when his lover sounds completely serious with that declaration before he leans in for another kiss.

#shigadabi #my writing #mha fanfiction #fanfiction

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aziraphales-library · 2 days

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Hi folks!

Thank you for what you do for this fandom.

I have a request not for a specific fic but for any that have funny prompts, or crack ones.

An example that comes to mind is a fic I read recently where Crowley takes up a gig as an Uber driver after Armaggedidn’t.

Looking to laugh a little after that angsty finale😓 Thank you!❤️

We have a #crack tag with loads of fics for you look through (including that uber driver one, somewhere). Here are more to add to the collection...

Summons To Appear… by organized_tomfoolery (G)

Crowley has avoided jury duty for over 6000 years and now there's Hell to pay.

Cunk on Aziraphale by gaydreaming (T)

Philomena Cunk's new special, Cunk on Books, brings Philomena to the bookshop of a certain ethereal bookworm. Things get off task rather quickly as Philomena expands her horizons and Aziraphale makes a new friend.

It is the Eastern Gate and You’re the Sun by Dancer_in_the_rain (G)

Even from his distant position on the balcony Aziraphale could see his hard swallow that made his Adam’s apple bob up and down. Aziraphale himself didn’t feel much better. Should he say something? But what was he supposed to say to all of this?! His mind was still reeling when he heard a voice call out loudly: ”But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and You are the sun!” Or: I found this prompt on Pinterest: “I’m on a balcony at some dude’s party and you just started loudly quoting some Romeo and Juliet at me from below” and it was just so insanely Aziracrow-coded, I couldn’t NOT write about it!

An Angel, a Demon, and a Very Concerned Ape by yetrop (G)

“Don’t take it up with me, take it up with the creator of the game.” “Who’s the creator of the game?” Aziraphale thought back to what it said when they had first turned it on. “An ape, apparently.” “They’re all apes,” said Crowley, “Doesn’t narrow it down much.” “Well, yes, but this one is concerned.” “Concerned with what?” Aziraphale glanced at the screen, hoping to find some kind of further explanation somewhere. “Doesn’t say.” Crowley convinces Aziraphale to give a modern video game a try.

Queerly Good by InkRiver10 (G)

Aziraphale is nominated by Crowley to appear on Queer Eye. Hilarity ensues.

Hive Mind by braveatironheart (G)

Mr. Brown always knew he was meant for more than Whickber Street. He's done his best with the Street Traders and Shopkeepers Association, but he's sure his talents could be put to better use. It must be a miracle, then, that he finds himself in the bowels of a large corporation plagued by poor vertical communication and an utter lack of carpeting - how else could he have gotten lost on his way to the pub? When he runs into Mr. Fell, who not only holds a leadership position but is woefully behind on his paperwork, Mr. Brown realizes he's stumbled upon the opportunity of an (after)lifetime. Aziraphale is full of regret. Mr. Brown is full of ideas. It's a match made in Heaven - and, as Aziraphale is quickly discovering, that's practically synonymous with a match made in Hell. aka Mr. Brown hastens Aziraphale's return to Earth by annoying the ever-living shit out of him.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crack #mod d

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jellyfishoreo1206 · 23 hours

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You can ignore this if you want but!! I have an idea for a request: Gavril and mc trying to make homemade cheese together. Whether Mc already knows how to make cheese or not can be up to you!

Making Cheese with Gavril

Notes: I'M BACK, I SWEAR GUYS I AM NOT DEAD. Seriously I'm so sorry for leaving y'all w/o anything, my motivation to write anything had disappeared and finals bombarding me SUCKKKED. BUT I'M FINALLY FREE, RAHHHHHHH!!!! Anyway I was reminded of this one ask Part got last year with a cheese maker reader/food taster (I couldn't find it but it's somewhere on their dash, so credit to the person who asked the ask!) and I thought why not use that? Enjoy reading! (He may be OOC guys, it's been a while since I last wrote T~T)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol in here (idk if Gavril drinks alcohol but considering the crap he goes through, that boy needs a DRINK)

----

Working as a cheese maker is a lot of work, as simple as it may seem to others outside of the profession. Physically demanding your attention each and every day. But that was part of the job either way. Doesn't mean it can't be fun, especially if you're a fanatic of cheese.

Tomorrow was your day off, your muscles finally being able to relax from the constant lifting, stirring, and pressing that they had to endure. You had a pretty good idea of what to do when you came back from work, and that was to relax until the early hours of the morning.

It was getting dark; the sun setting as it casted its long shadows onto the ground below. You felt yourself sinking into the couch cushion, the nerves of your limbs becoming fuzzy as your mind went numb watching the screen of the TV, some random show you couldn't bother to pay attention too for the last couple of hours.

A ping from your phone pulls your attention away from the show you were mindlessly watching, slowly pushing yourself up from the couch— wincing a bit as your limbs were finally moving again after so long—as you reached for it. You had a pretty good guess of who it was, as he was the only one who texted you on a daily basis.

Open your window please <3

"Didn't know my day could get any better." Smiling, you sent him a message back, standing up from the couch as you stretched your arms high above your head; a few of your joints popping in the process, letting out a sigh of satisfaction.

Which one?

Bedroom window

Omw

It scared the crap out of you when he first appeared at your window with little to no warning, but with how things usually played out in your life, you got used to it eventually.

A smile graced your face when you saw him perched by your window with an eager look on his face, his goopy tail seemingly wagging at the sight of you once you approached closer to the window.

Thank god he actually came when it was dark this time, you don't need another situation happening with your neighbor freaking out to the police.

"Hey." You offered quietly in greeting, wrapping your arms around his neck as you nuzzled into his skin—enjoying the warmth he seemed to radiate. He copied your actions, wrapping his arms around your waist—his grip gentle yet tight as he pulled you to himself.

"Hello, darling." He mumbles into your hair, placing a kiss atop your head.

"Didn't know you were coming back so soon?"

"Wanted to surprise you."

"Well, color me surprised."

~~~

"So," Your back was turned to Gavril as you poured the two of you drinks, "-anything new happened on your crazy adventure?"

At this point it was routine for the both of you. Gavril comes back, you make sure he isn't injured, catch up with each other's lives. Most of the time Gavril's stories seem to be a tad bit more interesting than yours, and concerning at the same time.

Very concerning.

"Not much," He starts, "-but I did get chased by some agents a few weeks back.." A awkward smile appears on his face as he shrugged his shoulders. His coat was currently laid across his lap, his fingers fiddling with the frayed edges while he looks around the room. Walking over to him, you offered him the glass as you sat down in the chair next to him, he gladly took it—taking a small sip of it before placing it down onto the table. You took a sip of your own drink, the liquid giving your throat a slight burn that soon settled into a slight tingle.

It's been a while since you last had a drink, not crazy long ago though, watching as the liquid swirls in the glass before bringing it back up to your lips again—embracing the burning yet warming feeling of the liquid.

"Did that same redhead appear again?" Gavril mentioned him once or twice before to you, you're not sure what the name of the guy is, all you know is that he constantly reappears and how cowardly he can be.

"No, only his buddy showed up this time. Wasn't like anything changed though." The corners of his lips hint at a smile, bringing a hand up to the one prominent curl of his hair as he plays with it for a bit, twirling it around his finger. "I wonder how he even got that far in without quitting." You murmured out. From what you've heard, FBI training is no joke, and very intense. Both physically and mentally. Those who can't handle the challenge usually quit early on; and if they do pass, then there's the insane amount of cases that would affect nearly anyone. So for the redhead to get that far still puzzles you.

"I wonder the same too."

You continued to talk for what seemed like hours, pouring yourselves a few more drinks as the day slowly faded away into the early hours of the morning. Your muscles felt relaxed, more at ease; a comforting haze overtaking your brain as you let today's worries slip away. It doesn't seem Gavril is feeling the effects of the drink other than the nearly invisble tint of red on his cheeks and his relaxed posture instead of the regular stiffness.

Drinking the last bit of the liquid left in your cup, you stand up from your chair as you head towards the fridge, looking back towards Gavril to offer him something to eat, "You hungry?"

He hums out in confirmation, head now resting on top of his folded arms, eyes closed. Peering into the fridge, you clicked your tongue; no cheese. Searching every corner of the fridge, nope, nada. What a pickle you were in.

You could just go to the convince store that's not far from here, 10 minutes by foot. But is it opened? Checking the time on your phone, no, they closed just a few minutes ago. Are you sure your eyes didn't just missed the cheese?

Second time looking, again, nothing.

While searching the fridge for a third time, a thought pops up.

'Well...there's milk, and a few lemons...' Looking in the cabinet next to the fridge, yup, salt and some leftover animal rennet.

Ah, a quick and easy solution to your small problem.

Quickly getting to work, you grabbed two small bowls, pouring water into both of them. Rinsing and cutting the lemon, you squeezed some of the juice into one of the bowls, mixing it and setting it aside. For the second bowl, you added some animal rennet into the water, mixed it and set it aside with the other. Once placing the pot on top the stove, you felt the embrace of two arms wrapping around your midsection with the added weight of something on your shoulder. Peeking behind you to see Gavril, with a curious look in his eyes.

"Something wrong?"

"What..exactly are you doing?"

"Ran out of cheese, so I'm making some." You respond cheerily, a tired smile spreading on your face. Turning back to the task at hand, you missed the way that red tint on his face seemed to have become darker, hugging you closer to himself as he watches your hands at work.

Despite you guys dating for several months, he still gets shy about acts of affection. Kisses, praises, gifts, being pampered; It just gives him that fluttery feeling that cascades through him. It's not that he hates it, no far from that, it's just that he doesn't know what to do. Being isolated from everyone—for who knows how long—and his only company as rats made him rather awkward. You don't mind it though—it's adorable to you whenever he hides his face in the shadow of his hood when you give him a kiss on the cheek—you want him to be comfortable around you, so usually give him ways out or just let him control the pace.

"Can I help?"

"Of course! Just, wash your hands first."

---

"So I just, pour it in?" There was a hint of hesitation in his voice, looking back and forth at the bowl with the animal rennet mixture and the pot of milk that was just taken off the heat. You had your phone playing some music— since you felt that the atmosphere was a bit too quiet—with one of Gavril's favorite rock bands playing as you guided him through the steps of making cheese.

"Yup, then just stir it in gently."

You watched as Gavril does as he was told, although a bit hesitantly once he began stirring. Walking over to him, you laid your hands atop his hands on the spoon, showing him the proper way to stir the cheese-to-be mixture. The contact brought a blush to his cheeks, a small smile forming on his face.

"Now that's done," Putting a lid on the pot, "-we wait for 10 minutes."

---

"You're gonna want to cut it in a grid-like pattern, like this!" Using a long knife, you cut two lines into the semi-solid mixture before handing the knife over to Gav.

"Oh, seems easy enough." He muttered to himself, changing the way he held the knife before holding it properly in his grip.

"Make sure to reach the bottom when cutting, cause right after this step is done, we're straining the liquid from the solids."

---

"I'll handle this part. I'll need to dunk the cheese in some hot water in order to stretch it properly." After straining out the cheese from the whey, you now needed to stretch it until it reached the right firmness. Gavril nods, as he lingers, a excited smile appearing on his face, his fangs peaking out.

Dunking the cheese into the water, you begin stretching. This part you somewhat don't like, it's not that the water is boiling hot, it just makes your skin irritated if it's submerged for long periods of time. Though it is a good way to release stress, it's like slime in a way. Edible slime, huh.

---

After adding the salt, you finally finished, good old Mozzarella cheese. Rolling it into small balls and storing it in some of the whey, you sit down as Gavril pops a ball of cheese into his mouth, a big smile appearing on his face.

A smile comes across your face as well, glad he's enjoying it. It's nice spending time with him, in moments like these. You kinda forget the fact that several month ago that he broke into your house and scared the living shit out of you when you realized you almost got killed.

...Does that count as Stockholm Syndrome??

Before you could think any further, a light poke to your arm brings you out of it. Looking towards Gavril, you see that he's offering you some cheese, a bashful smile on his face as a tint of red makes itself known. Aw, that's sweet of him.

"You can have some.."

"Thanks Gav." Popping the piece of cheese into your mouth, you savor the moment. Cheese tastes so much better when you're making it with those you care about.

What a great way to spend your day-off.

#bubo series #bubo series x reader #bubo series fanfiction #gavril game #gavril x reader #gavril fanfiction #I'm not dead I swear

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nunalastor · 3 days

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Cox Chronicles x Harry Potter

I've done some more thinking on the Cox Chronicles x Harry Potter AU, because I have nothing better to do with my time. And it's basically just a Cox Chronicles Highschool AU, because I realized that I don't remember anything about Harry Potter. But here's what I brain rotted over (and also this is a Human AU).

Susan:

Susan is the school librarian and an old (old) friend of Al's mom, which is where the grandmother dynamic comes from. She just wants her crusty grandson to "shape up," and what better way to do that than to push him into the school paper? Some work ethic would do him good (and maybe that "nice boy Vox" will rub off on him).

Susan is also the sponsor of the drama club, led by our illustrious Rosie. Rosie's actually the one who brought up the Approval Points system (later on, once the competition's under way). It was meant as a joke, but Susan ran with it (and Rosie only feels a little bad for fanning the flames).

Speaking of the Approval Competition, there's a bet running between the viewers (Rosie, Velvet, Val, and probably the Sins at some point). In fact, they've even set up a prize for the winner. Whoever has the most Approval Points by the end of the year is being set up on a date with Al at Hogsmeade (no, Alastor has not been consulted on this).

Some exposition:

But first, some set dressing. How does this whole situation come to pass?

Dear old Charlotte has been trying to publicize her new club in the school paper. Unfortunately, her submissions never seem to go through (if Vox threw them in the bin, who's gonna know?). Eventually, she just decides to go in person.

(Plus, she's heard through the grapevine that they've hired someone new. She's CERTAINLY NOT trying to ask for this new person's help behind the Vees backs, because that would be sneaky and underhanded. Popping in while Al was working was a mere coincidence.)

And great news! Alastor's absolutely willing to help! How uncouth to needlessly cast Charlotte's submissions aside. (And he just knows this'll upset that Vox guy, who won't leave him alone). He'll slip the advertisement in. But! He's not naive enough to go out of his way advertising something he knows so little about. So, in exchange, he requests co-presidency of of Charlie's club to oversee how things are going. (Plus, Charlotte already failed at advertising on her own. This club is bound to be an entertaining mess.)

Blah, blah, blah, a bunch of club shenanigans, and then steps in Lucifer. He really wishes his sister had gone to him for help instead of that tall, radio obsessed freak. (It took him forever to realize where he recognized the dude's voice. He's the asshole who does the very mildly entertaining sports announcements for the quidditch games.) He's the student body president (or head of the student council, idk what they have in Britain), he could've just forced the stupid news kids to stop ignoring her. Buuuut, she was adamant about doing things herself, and how Alastor has been such a great help to the club, and yada yada- so, he relented. He could work with this asshole if it's what his sister wanted.

NOW the plot starts:

So, cut to them working together in the library. They're going over logistics when Susan spots them. And frankly, she's appalled. She cannot BELIEVE her grandson would choose to spend time with this GIGOLO, rather than Vox, who's been such a gentlemen this whole time. That Lucifer boy's had THREE suitors so far! Eve, Lilith, and even that Adam boy for a while. Entirely unfaithful and untrustworthy. And she makes sure to tell him as such, storming over and chastising him for "lowering his standards." While Al's busy trying to explain that they're not even friends, Lucifer is just confused, and VERY offended. Sure, sometimes he forgets to turn his books in on time, but that doesn't make him worse than this "Cox" guy! He's been rejecting Charlie's advertisement requests for weeks now. And what? Susan thinks Cox is better for Alastor? Ha! He'll prove her wrong; he'll be the best potential suitor friend for Alastor that she's ever seen! (Definitely better than that Cox guy. What kind of name even is that?)

Anyways, THIS is where the real competition begins. Susan makes sure to warn Vox about the gigolo. This just means that Vox has to double down: Follow Al around even more, hold EVERY door open for him (+5 points), and absolutely attend each and every single play he's acting in (+10 points). And definitely be the one cheering the loudest. He built a sound amplifier for himself to make sure Alastor knows who supports him the MOST. (-10 points for disrupting the play.)

For Lucifer's part, he makes sure to rub in the fact that he and Al are both in the same house (definitely Slytherin). Not only does this piss Vox off to no end (win!), but he makes sure to actually start using this fact by spending more time with Al. He's been in the dorms more lately, trying to hide out from Vox, so it's the perfect opportunity!

When Susan hears Lucifer talk about "Cox," she gets on his case for such vulgar language (-30 Approval Points), but doesn't realize who he's talking about, so doesn't correct him. Neither does Al, so the "Cox" thing continues.

Lucifer's also been complaining about the whole situation to his other friends. The first time Lucifer complained about the "Cox" guy, Ozzie almost did a spit-take. A few of the Sins have heard about Vox, but don't bother to correct Lucifer. After all, he's annoying their friend, (and it's funny), so they just go along with it. And, since the Sins are pretty well known in school, it catches on with the other students. Velvet made NO attempt to warn Vox. The first time someone pointed him out and loudly called him "Cox" in public, he just about short-circuited.

Extra:

Adam could even join in at some point (for AngelicRadio fans). He's still salty about how much Lucifer was bragging about winning the last quidditch match - to his face, the audacity! - and how he stole Lilith, so what better way to get back at him than taking his new man? He strikes up conversation with Alastor the next time he's being interviewed for the school paper. You can imagine for yourself how that goes down.

Granddad Zestial can also make an appearance, as an older student or a professor who took Al in when he first arrived. Really, he knew the librarian was a crank, but how can she not see how controlling that Vox kid is? (Rosie may or may not have introduced him to to the ongoing betting pool, and he may or may not have put his money on Lucifer.)

👀

#the cox chronicles #harry potter #hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks

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theamberfist · 6 hours

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Sink or Swim | Stolas x Reader

Romantic! Stolas x Swim Instructor! Reader

Description: When Stolas signed his baby daughter, Octavia up for swim lessons, he never expected to like her new instructor so much

(Notes:) (gender neutral reader) (reader is a sinner) (reader is baby Octavia's swim teacher)

Words: 1,640

❀ Fun fact: I've taught parent-infant swim lessons IRL so all the exercises shown in this are real ones we use with infants ❀

Stolas frowned as he pushed open the door to the building in front of him; unable to help the slight nervous feeling that bloomed in his chest. He supposed there should have been no cause for concern, considering he was a prince of hell and easily one of the strongest beings in this ring, but it wasn't as if he'd ever done something like this before.

He readjusted his arms, where Octavia rested on his hip sleepily. On a normal day, she would have been napping at home now, but not for much longer. He'd specifically chosen this time because he knew that, once she woke up, she would be as active as ever. Stolas reminded himself that this was for her sake, not his; he could hold his head up high for her, just as he always did.

When he entered, the imp at the front desk looked up from his work and his eyes widened slightly. "Prince Stolas..." He managed before finally clearing his throat and regaining his composure, "Right, we were expecting you." Though, something told the owl prince they hadn't actually thought he'd make good on his plans and come in.

"The toddler pool has already been reserved, and your instructor is waiting for you there," the imp went on to explain as he checked their names off on a clipboard, "I'll let them know you've arrived."

"Thank you." Stolas nodded awkwardly before turning and heading through the locker rooms to the pools. Though he could have simply signed Via up for regular lessons, he'd decided a private one would be better for the sake of them both. He wasn't aware that meant they'd reserve an entire pool for them, however small, but at least this way, he would have fewer paparazzi to deal with.

Finally, he reached the pool deck, seeing that the whole facility only had a few people in it right now. There was a large lap swimming pool in front of him, as well as a splash pad to his right and the toddler pool to his left. When he looked over, there was already someone sitting on the side with their feet in the water as they waited. They wore a red swimsuit with the word 'lifeguard' printed in white, leading him to believe this was the instructor the imp at the front desk had mentioned.

He made his way over to the toddler pool as Octavia began stirring in his arms now. It was a good thing he'd already gotten her into her swimsuit, or he would have had a hard time getting her to sit still long enough for it now.

Upon hearing them come over, you looked up and smiled, setting the clipboard you'd been holding on the side of the pool.

"Hello!" You called, "Here for the parent-child swim lesson?" Stolas nodded and you stepped out of the barely knee-deep pool to come over to him. To his surprise, you seemed to be a sinner, rather than an imp or hellhound like he'd expected. Your appearance differed from them greatly, and there was an energy about you that told him you had to be a human soul.

You smiled and introduced yourself. "I'll be teaching our class every week," you explained, "If anything is too difficult or uncomfortable for you two as we get started, please let me know. Private lessons means I have a little more flexibility in what we do." You winked at the last part, and though it made the prince's heart beat quicker, he was fairly certain you just meant it playfully.

"Anyway, who is this little one?" You asked, turning to the little owlet in his arms, whose big round eyes were staring up at you.

"This is my daughter, Octavia," Stolas replied, immediately relaxing now that the topic of conversation had changed, "She's about a year old; I hope that's alright!" You waved him off.

"That's perfect," you said, gently reaching out towards the baby, "I've worked with kids much older and much younger than this." Octavia's tiny hand grabbed one of your fingers and you smiled kindly before looking up at her father. "And you're Prince Stolas, right?" He blinked.

"Just Stolas is fine!"

You nodded before removing your hand from the owlet's grip and standing up straighter. "Well, if you're ready, then we can get started." You said, that professional air returning to you, "I was thinking we'd have her in the shallow area to start with and ease her into slightly deeper waters." Stolas nodded, setting his bag down on a pool chair and then following you to the water.

Now that you'd been properly introduced, Octavia was eager to follow after you, and he held her little hands as she stepped into the shallowest area of the pool. You giggled, encouraging her along the way.

Once she stood so that the water was up to her knees, you brought out a dive toy and placed it on the pool floor, asking her to reach down and grab it to get her a little closer to the water. Stolas sat by her as she did so with ease, and then you moved the toy slightly deeper.

He admired how much energy you seemed to have with his owlet, as well as how kind you were to her. Your soft voice and easy patience was a stark contrast to Octavia's mother; that was for sure. The two of you watched her repeatedly pick the dive toy up from increasingly deeper as if she had no care in the world.

Finally, he broke the quietness between you two as you congratulated Octavia at another job well done. "Do you often teach lessons here?" He asked a little awkwardly, "I haven't seen many human souls in this ring of hell before." You smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I teach almost all the lessons we offer here," you replied, moving Via's dive toy again, "It's the same job I had while I was alive, and I guess it's the only thing I've really found that I'm good at."

Stolas couldn't argue with that. Usually, Octavia was much more timid around water than this. She wouldn't even go in it at all if he wasn't holding her hand the whole time. With you, though, she was so enthusiastic that she hadn't even noticed the lack of touch. It was like he'd brought a different baby to the pool altogether today.

"I see," he replied with a nod, smiling down at his daughter, who was happily splashing some of the water. "Do you have any children of your own?" You shook your head.

"Nope, I mostly kept to myself while I was alive- and, I guess, while I've been dead, too." You shrugged, "But when I found out how few kids in my neighborhood knew how to swim, I started doing lessons to keep them a little safer."

Stolas nodded, wondering if it would have been too much to hope that 'keeping to yourself' meant you didn't have a spouse or partner, either.

"If you're ready, we can move to the deeper water exercises." You changed the subject now and the prince nodded, placing a reluctant Octavia back on his hip and bringing her towards the deeper pool nearby. There, you helped him perform the next exercise, which consisted of him resting the owlet's head on his shoulder and trying to get her to kick her legs as he moved her through the water on her back. She was less enthusiastic about that, but you were quick to think; holding a toy up so her focus would shift.

That calmed her down a lot, and soon enough she was kicking her legs happily as she giggled at you. "Do you get many attendees to your lessons?" Stolas asked in an attempt to strike up a conversation with you again, "I know those who died and ended up here aren't at as much risk of drowning." You nodded.

"That's why I work here," you smiled, "People in the pride ring aren't really concerned about dying unless it's at the hands of angels. I still think water safety is important, though."

The prince couldn't argue there. After all, that was why he'd signed Octavia up for these lessons. That, and he'd thought it would be nice for the two of them to get out of the house together for an activity.

"Then I applaud you for your work!" He replied, "I'm sure many hellborn children can be quite difficult to teach." You laughed.

"You have no idea how much hellhounds hate swimming."

The rest of the lesson went on just like that. With each new exercise, you found yourself getting that much more comfortable talking with Stolas, and vice versa. Octavia was also doing extremely well with everything you threw at her, and at this rate, you knew she'd be confidently swimming around on her own soon enough.

Finally, the lesson ended and you praised the little owl before dismissing the class and hopping out of the water. Feeling warmer than you had when you began, you grabbed your clipboard to prepare for your next class.

Stolas glanced your way as he carefully dried Octavia off. "Same time next week, then?" He asked with a grin and you nodded.

"I'll be looking forward to it!" He didn't say anything, but inside, he knew he would be too. Just as he was grabbing his bag to leave, you came over and handed him a small piece of paper. The owl prince raised an eyebrow.

"My number," you explained with a smile, "just in case." He nodded at that, feeling his heart flutter as he placed the paper in his pocket, and then you waved them both off as they left.

It seemed he'd gotten more enjoyment out of these little swim lessons than expected, and he couldn't wait to come back.

#helluva boss #helluva stolas #helluvaboss #stolas helluva boss #helluva boss stolas #stolas #stolas goetia #stolas x reader #stolas x you #helluva boss fanfiction #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss x you #helluva boss x y/n #helluva boss stolas x reader

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wilderflcwers · 5 months

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"For both bonobos and chimpanzees, the bodies of the dead evoke many emotions. Even if the process often begins with trauma and confusion, typically corpses shift to a liminal status; not alive, but equally not a lump of meat. They're more intensively manipulated than hunted animals, and carried for longer. In some – if not all – cases, the eaters must know what and who they're consuming. Cannibalism is very probably a powerful means by which individuals and groups process the impact not only of killings carried out on emotional impulses, but other deaths too. In other words, it's about grieving. [...] "Shift these scenarios to Neanderthals, and add into the mix their far greater cognitive sophistication, and lives that revolved around using lithics. Suddenly it's not difficult to envision how skills in carefully taking apart hunted carcasses might be transposed into a grieving process that involved butchery and cannibalism as acts of intimacy, not violation."

Rebecca Wragg Sykes, Kindred: Neanderthal Life, Love, Death and Art

#quotes #rebecca wragg sykes #kindred: neanderthal life love death and art #what could be a better way to start off this new year than #💛💛💛 cannibalism 💛💛💛#& 💖💖💖 grief 💖💖💖#this book is excellent btw if you're interested at all in neanderthals i HIGHLY recommend it #it is dense with data but the author takes care to write about it in an accessible way #& with a sense of profound wonder that suffuses everything #like even if you don't read through the whole thing i encourage picking up a copy just to peruse the little creative writing vignettes #at the top of each chapter

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reasonsforhope · 6 months

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No paywall version here.

"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...

In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.

Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.

But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.

I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.

In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.

For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.

And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.

Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.

[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]

And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.

The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.

I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.

To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.

The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.

Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.

I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."

-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.

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youngks-smile · 3 months

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What I Want You To Know About Long COVID

Well lads, I've been suffering from Long COVID for over a year now. My life is at a complete standstill. I'm 25 years old and I'm too sick to go back to school, I can't work, I had to move back in with my parents and I'm still stuck here.

Here are just a few things I wish people knew about Long COVID, including things I didn't know myself until I got it.

COVID destroys your immune system. Yes, even if you don't have Long COVID. Are you getting sick more often now? When you get sick, does it last longer? There are many studies showing that COVID causes t cell depletion, even in mild COVID cases! T cells are how your body remembers how to fight off infections you've had before so losing those cells? Bad news.

Your initial infection can be mild and you can still get Long COVID. Right from Yale Medicine, "Most people with Long COVID had mild acute COVID." (This is also a good link for a basic Long COVID overview).

There can be a gap of time between when you "get better" from the initial COVID infection to the onset of Long COVID symptoms. Some people get sick with an initial COVID infection and never get better. Some get better and then weeks or months later start developing Long COVID symptoms. Long COVID symptoms can even fluctuate over time, can go away for months and then suddenly come back.

So many people have Long COVID and don't realize it. Do you feel more tired lately but no matter how much you sleep, nothing helps? Is it harder to concentrate at work or school? Can you just not think like you used to? You could have Long COVID and not even know it. Even mild post-COVID symptoms are still Long COVID.

COVID can do anything to your body. Long COVID has over 200 recognized symptoms and can affect basically any part or system of your body. There is no one mechanism or cause of Long COVID which unfortunately also means there's no one cure either.

The effects of COVID are cumulative. Each COVID reinfection increases your chances of developing Long COVID. COVID is also affecting your body in other ways, yes, even if you're otherwise young and healthy! "Repeat COVID-19 infections increase risk of organ failure, death".

Once you have Long COVID, repeat COVID infections will make your symptoms worse. "80% [of Long COVID patients] saw their symptoms worsen [from reinfection]. In 60% of people who were in recovery or remission from Long COVID, reinfection caused a recurrence of Long COVID."

There is a lot more I want to say about Long COVID but I want to keep this post at least somewhat manageable to read. Like how when COVID is contracted during pregnancy, those COVID-exposed fetuses have a 6.3-fold increased risk of motor developmental delays, or that another study found 50% of babies exposed to COVID in utero had developmental delays.

You need to keep caring about COVID, for others around you and also for yourself even if you're "healthy". Everyone is at risk. And don't forget 40-60% of COVID infections are asymptomatic, which is why masking even if you feel fine is crucial. The only way right now to not get Long COVID is to not get COVID in the first place. It's not too late, if you've stopped masking it's never too late to start again! I know it's easy to get distracted by things in your life that seem more real than the possibility of getting sick some time in the future, and the peer pressure to not mask can be intense. But it only feels less real or less important until your entire life is having Long COVID. Trust me.

I know this is a complicated issue, many people can't afford to stay home when sick even if they want to because of their jobs, there are disgusting policies trying to ban wearing masks, but please if you can. Keep masking. Masking works, masking saves lives.

This post got a bit longer than I wanted so below the cut is a non-exhaustive list of my Long COVID symptoms and some of my experiences as one of the "healthy young people" who got "unlucky". cw brief mention of suicidal ideation.

Welcome to the Thunderdome that is my body with Long COVID. Keep in mind these are just my experiences and symptoms, Long COVID can cause any range of symptoms at varying severities.

Dysautonomia: Exercise intolerance, Post-Exertional Malaise (PEM), fatigue, and heat intolerance. What do those things mean? Here's some specific examples. Absolutely terrible circulation I am so cold all the time but also, if I get a little too warm I will pass out. Eating hot food makes my heart rate spike, I sweat, my body feels heavy. Blood pooling and pins and needles in my feet when I walk. Don't even think about exercising past walking, it's impossible. I used to work out an hour a day 4 times a week and now walking up one flight of stairs makes my heart pound and I can't breathe. Can't take even just warm showers anymore or I will pass out. Heat rashes from being in the sun for 10 minutes.

Digestive issues: Honestly too many to name but: constant bloating, extreme nausea, constipation, slow motility, lack of appetite, just so much cramping and pain. I lost 18 pounds from Long COVID, as someone who was already considered underweight their entire life, and almost had to get a shunt put into my chest to deliver nutrients because I was nearly completely unable to eat. For the first 6 months of Long COVID, if I could manage 600 calories a day, that was a good day.

Histamine intolerance: Oh boy. My worst symptoms, I don't even know where to start with it. If you know Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) it's very similar. I can only eat 19 foods. If i eat a single bite of something not on that list, it's 48 hours of absolute hell. Coughing, migraines, itchy eyes, such extreme nausea I cannot even describe it, panic/feeling of doom, racing heart rate, derealization, rash, uncontrollable muscle tremors. I only learned about histamine intolerance 5 months into having Long COVID so before that, I was experiencing these symptoms nearly every single day. Terrifying isn't even a strong enough word to describe how it felt to experience all this and have no idea what it was, how to stop it, or if it would ever stop. Really dark times.

Neurological issues: More of that derealization. Inability to concentrate. Anxiety. OCD-like symptoms such as thoughts getting "stuck" in my head, repeating 24/7 completely unable to stop them, genuinely felt like my brain had cracked open and I had lost my mind. Constant dizziness like I'm on a boat.

Sleep issues: I sleep like garbage. I have insomnia, I wake up dozens of times every night and every single time I sleep I have intensely vivid dreams. I can't sleep longer than 7 hours total no matter how exhausted I am. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted, I'm so so tired.

And finally. Just. Really intense suicidal ideation. My body, my health, my entire life has been stolen from me because someone else decided my life was worth less to them than wearing a mask or staying home if they feel sick. Before I got Long COVID, I was preparing to go to South Korea to teach English, then on to a PhD in neurolinguistics, I was supposed to meet my long distance partner and had already booked plane tickets when I got sick. All of that has been destroyed.

Most of us with Long COVID are stuck in a cycle of being extremely sick, then if you're lucky you'll slowly get better over months, just to get reinfected and go right back where you started or worse. Honestly, I'm not scared of dying from COVID. I'm scared of living for a long time, suffering from Long COVID the entire time. This isn't living.

I don't know how to end this now. I'm still fighting, I'm trying experimental treatments, I'm not giving up yet. I hope everyone reading this stays healthy and well.

#long covid #covid 19 #covid isn't over #pandemic

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friendshiptothemax · 1 year

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I was on a plane this weekend, and I was chatting with the woman sitting next to me about an upcoming writer’s strike. “Do you really think you’re mistreated?” she asked me.

That’s not the issue at stake here. Let me tell you a little something about “minirooms.”

Minirooms are a way of television writing that is becoming more common. Basically, the studio will hire a small group of writers, 3-6 or so, and employ them for just a few weeks. In those few weeks (six weeks seem to be common), they have to hurriedly figure out as much about the show as they can -- characters, plots, outlines for episodes. Then at the end of the six weeks, all the writers are fired except for the showrunner, who has to write the entire series themselves based on the outlines.

This is not a widespread practice, but it has become more common over the past couple of years. Studios like it because instead of paying for a full room for the full length of the show, they just pay a handful of writers for a fraction of the show. It’s not a huge problem now, but the WGA only gets the chance to make rules every three years -- if we let this go for another three years and it becomes the norm? That would be DEVASTATING for the tv writing profession.

Do I feel like I’m mistreated? No. I LOVE my job! But in a world of minirooms, there is no place for someone like me -- a mid-level writer who makes a decent living working on someone else’s show (I’d like to be a showrunner someday, but for now I feel like I still have a lot to learn, and my husband and I are trying to start a family so I like not being support rather than the leader for now). In a miniroom, there are only two levels -- the handful of glorified idea people who are already scrambling to find their next show because you can’t make a decent living off of one six-week job (and since there are fewer people per room, there are fewer jobs overall, even at the six-week amount), and the overworked, stressed as fuck showrunner who is going to have to write the entire thing themselves. Besides being bad for me making a living, I also just think it’s plain bad for television as an art form -- what I like about TV is how adaptable it is, how a whole group of people come together to tell a story better than what any of them could do on their own. Plus the showrunner can’t do their best work under all of that pressure, episode after episode, back to back. Minirooms just...fucking suck.

The WGA is proposing two things to fix this -- a rule that writers have to be employed for the entire show, and a rule tying the number of writers in the room to the number of episodes you have per season. I don’t think it’s unreasonable. It’s the way shows have run since the advent of television. It’s only in the last couple of years that this has become a new thing. It’s exploitative. It squeezes out everyone except showrunners and people who have the financial means to work only a few months a year. It makes television worse. And that is the issue in this strike that means everything to me, and that is why I voted yes on the strike authorization vote.

#writer's strike #wga #television writing

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genericpuff · 9 days

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Tbh at this point you should just make your own webcomic app/website because it would probably be 100 times better than whatever going on with webtoon right now.

hahaha it wouldn't tho, sorry 💀

Here's the fundamental issue with webcomic platforms that a lot of people just don't realize (and why they're so difficult to run successfully):

Storage costs are incredibly expensive, it's why so many sites have limitations on file sizes / page sizes / etc. because all of those images and site info have to be stored somewhere, which costs $$$.

Maintenance costs are expensive and get more so as you grow, you need people who are capable of fixing bugs ASAP and managing the servers and site itself

Financially speaking, webcomics are in a state of high supply, low demand. Loads of artists are willing to create their passion projects, but getting people to read them and pay for them is a whole other issue. Demand is high in the general sense that once people get attached to a webtoon they'll demand more, but many people aren't actually willing to go looking for new stuff to read and depend more on what sites feed them (and what they already like). There are a lot of comics to go around and thus a lot of competition with a limited audience of people willing to actually pay for them.

Trying to build a new platform from the ground up is incredibly difficult and a majority of sites fail within their first year. Not only do you have to convince artists to take a chance on your platform, you have to convince readers to come. Readers won't come if there isn't work on the platform to read, but artists won't come if they don't think the site will be worth it due to low traffic numbers. This is why the artists with large followings who are willing to take chances on the smaller sites are crucial, but that's only if you can convince them to use the site in favor of (or alongside) whatever platform they're using already where the majority of their audience lies. For many creators it's just not worth the time, energy, or risk.

Even if you find short-term success, in the long-term there are always going to be profit margins to maintain. The more users you pull in, the more storage is used by incoming artists, the more you have to spend on storage and server maintenance costs, and that means either taking the risk at crowdfunding (ex. ComicFury) or having to resort to outsider investments (ex. Tapas). Look at SmackJeeves, it used to be a titan in the independent webcomic hosting community, until it folded over to a buyout by NHN and then was pretty much immediately shuttered due to NHN basically turning it into a manwha scanlation site and driving away its entire userbase. And if you don't get bought out and try your hand at crowdfunding, you may just wind up living on a lifeline that could cut out at any moment, like what happened to Inkblazers (fun fact, the death of Inkblazers was what kicked off the cultural shift in Tapas around 2015-16 when all of IB's users migrated over and brought their work with them which was more aimed towards the BL and romancee drama community, rather than the comedy / gag-a-day culture that Tapas had made itself known for... now you deadass can't tell Tapas apart from a lot of scanlation sites because it got bought out by Kakao and kept putting all of its eggs into the isekai/romance drama basket.)

Right now the mindset in which artists and readers are operating is that they're trying way, way too hard to find a "one size fits all" site. Readers want a place where they can find all their favorite webtoons without much effort, artists wants a place where they can post to an audience of thousands, and both sides want a community that will feel tight-knit. But the reality is that you can't really have all three of those things, not on one site. Something always winds up having to be sacrificed - if a site grows big enough, it'll have to start seeking more funding while also cutting costs which will result in features becoming paywall'd, intrusive ads, creators losing their freedom, and/or outsider support which often results in the platform losing its core identity and alienating its tight-knit community.

If I had to describe what I'm talking about in a "pick one" graphic, it would look something like this:

(*note: this is mostly based on my own observations from using all of these sites at some point or another, they're not necessarily entirely accurate to the statistical performance of each site, I can only glean so much from experience and traffic trackers LMAO that said I did ask some comic pals for input and they were very helpful in helping me adjust it with their own takes <3).

The homogenization of the Internet has really whipped people into submission for the "big sites" that offer "everything", but that's never been the Internet, it relies on being multi-faceted and offering different spaces for different purposes. And we're seeing that ideology falter through the enshittification of sites like Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. where users are at odds with the platforms because the platforms are gutting features in an attempt to satisfy shareholders whom without the platforms would not exist. Like, most of us aren't paying money to use social media sites / comic platform sites, so where else are they gonna make the necessary funds to keep these sites running? Selling ad space and locking features behind paywalls.

And this is especially true for a lot of budding sites that don't have the audience to support them via crowdfunding but also don't have the leverage to ask for investments - so unless they get really REALLY lucky in EITHER of those departments, they're gonna be operating at a loss, and even once they do achieve either of those things there are gonna be issues in the site's longevity, whether it be dying from lack of growing crowdfunding support or dying from shareholder meddling.

So what can we do?

We can learn how to take our independence back. We don't have to stop using these big platforms altogether as they do have things to offer in their own way, particularly their large audience sizes and dipping into other demographics that might not be reachable from certain sites - but we gotta learn that no single site is going to satisfy every wish we have and we have to be willing to learn the skills necessary to running our own spaces again. Pick up HTML/CSS, get to know other people who know HTML/CSS if you can't grasp it (it's me, I can't grasp it LOL), be willing to take a chance on those "smaller sites" and don't write them off entirely as spaces that can be beneficial to you just because they don't have large numbers or because they don't offer rewards programs. And if you have a really polished piece of work in your hands, look into agencies and publishing houses that specialize in indie comics / graphic novels, don't settle for the first Originals contract that gets sent your way.

For the last decade corporations have been convincing us that our worth is tied to the eyes we can bring to them. Instead of serving ourselves, we've begun serving the big guys, insisting that it has to be worth something eventually and that it'll "payoff" simply by the virtue of gambler's fallacy. Ask yourself what site is right for you and your work rather than asking yourself if your work is good enough for them. Most of us are broke trying to make it work on these sites anyways, may as well be broke and fulfilled by posting in places that actually suit us and our work if we can. Don't define your success by what sites like Webtoons are enforcing - that definition only benefits them, not you.

#my favorite out of these is comicfury because it gives you the most control out of all of them #and you can offer monetization tools like ads and patreon links #it also offers super easy tools to help build your own site if you're new to that #it's as close to “running your own site” as comic hosting can get #but you can also learn how to run your own site if you want undeniably full control without fear of the platform host shuttering #also look into collectives like SpiderForest!#they basically operate as a co-op where people host their work with them and get ad opportunities #but you have to apply to get in #ama #ask me anything #anon ama #anon ask me anything #webcomic tips

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glow-in-the-dark-death · 4 months

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A Week (He Will Take You)

Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.

This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.

Anyway

This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,

They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.

They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.

Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.

Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.

In other words they were stuck in Gotham

Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.

Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,

Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.

You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.

Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.

But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.

"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"

This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.

"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"

That was it.

The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.

But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,

Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.

The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty

Like no one had been living in it.

People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.

Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.

Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"

Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "

Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"

Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."

Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."

Bruce: "Hn."

Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"

Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"

Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"

Just an Idea

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #batman #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #prompt fill #story prompt #prompts #writing prompt #dp #ghost #ghosts

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javierpena-inatacvest · 3 months

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Whatever My Wife Wants

Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!

A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever.

Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise.

Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right.

Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look.

And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.

“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner.

“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.”

“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink.

Mrs. Peña.

God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you.

It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh.

“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?”

Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table.

Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable.

Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor.

Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you.

“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”

Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene.

As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon).

With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed.

Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun.

“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me.

Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs.

“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place.

Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself.

“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?”

Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance.

“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble.

“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his.

Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch.

“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him.

“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?”

With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation.

You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name.

It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.

“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming.

“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance.

You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation.

Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more.

“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles.

“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken.

As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there.

Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace.

“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.”

Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him.

“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.”

“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth.

“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.”

Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there.

A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement.

“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.”

You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt.

“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping.

“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.

“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.”

Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars.

Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently.

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh”

With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs.

As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss.

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs.

“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you.

Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were.

“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs.

You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips.

“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones.

“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”

“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.”

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hxltic · 10 months

Text

ghost yellin pt. 2!! (and 2k followers. omg.)

(mention of blood n knives n stuff in here)

pt. 1~~~

It was still early in the morning when your puffy eyes blink open. Despite the mission that had your arrival around 3-ish in the morning, it was still the crack of dawn, which meant the start of your day, mission or not.

The warmth you had longed for encased you, but today, it felt unfamiliar.

You hadn’t forgotten about yesterday (or earlier today). And even though what happened upset you, you’d still wanted him, so you could feel the comfort your father never gave you after an argument. You’d never received a genuine apology from him, just an offer for new shoes or to go to your favorite restaurant that day.

Even in anguish after what he did, you still wanted his touch. Or that may have been what you thought, because now you were peeling his strong arms off you, and creeping to the bedside. You cautiously swing your legs over and slowly step to the door, but even though you were going unbelievably slow, the pain underneath your feet made you wince.

“Wait—”

There’s a gruff voice that your back is turned to, making you jump at the realization he was awake. You had been taught all your life to fight when your fight or flight response flickers, but he noticed how you almost bolted towards your room.

He had been awake the whole time. He’d vouched to himself he wouldn’t close his eyes until your breaths were regular again, but even after they had, he’d barely gotten any sleep. If he had tears left to cry, one would’ve slipped.

Whenever he did fall to the night, in any circumstance, his body physically would prevent him from staying such. He was a light sleeper to another extreme. His body was trained by none other than trauma and instinct. So when he felt you raising his arm, he’d awakened and watched you do everything silently.

He would’ve said something, but he didn’t know what. An apology would sound fake in this situation.

Ghost was a hands-on man, so he moved. His large body flipped the covers off him and hastily brought itself to you.

The last time you’d let him get close, he screamed in your face. You took an involuntary step back, but had you thought about it you probably would’ve taken it anyway. His quick steps pause.

He gazes into your frozen eyes, glistening and pretty even in upset, but underneath carrying fear and shock.

Seeing him, one side of you wanted to apologize for not taking your job seriously, even though you did, or say you were sorry for the other things he mentioned. And you may have when you were 13, but you were a strong woman that built off men’s bullshit over the years, so you hold your ground.

He shrunk himself and moved effectively before you. No unnecessary movements.

“Please. Wait.”

You could tell he was trying to make his voice soft, but the octave and accent just did not allow it. He was trying though.

Do you book it, or stay?

You stay, to hear him. He recognizes your stance as one specifically military-taught, ready to move.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you. I should’ve been better,” he started. You’d come to realize even with small issues, he was an okay apologizer. “I’m sorry. You’re the last person who deserved that.”

He inspected the way you heard him but just stood there awkwardly. You were never awkward around him. In fact, he was the awkward one.

His heart dropped at how visibly uncomfortable you looked. He wanted to touch you—to take all your problems away, but it wouldn’t work this time. Not when he was the problem.

Ghost was the type of person to do anything for you, anything to get you back. You were the only one who saw him as Simon now, ever since the others died or were killed. He ruined that.

He let the mask get the best of him, finally turning into the murderous, scary man the world sees him as, everyone but you. You’d never been afraid of him, and he himself had changed that.

So in the silence he scans your beautiful eyes again, the brightness they usually reflect gone and replaced. You blink at him like a puppy. A small, scared puppy.

He’d made you cry. He’d made you cry.

He wasn’t expecting forgiveness, or your usual unconditional love, but the silence was too much to bear. He knows what he did, but he genuinely has no idea how he could make it up to you. Once you realize the conversation was over, and that’s all he had to say, you turn your head and limp past the doorway to your room. You were going to cry again.

But that was far from what he wanted to say.

He didn’t realize it when a tear of his own bundled up under his blonde eyelashes, a feeling so rare that people’s jokes about him being a robot could seem true. It had been so long, but watching you sadly walk away from him was enough.

The door was wide open, but he stood there, feeling more useless than he ever had.

These were the times he wished his mother was here. To tell him what to do. To spread the emotional knowledge of loving someone so much it pained you, something she had perfected over the years. Instead, he picked up the brutalities of his father. And he will never forgive him for that.

. .

You’d avoided him for an entire day, almost two, despite being in such close proximity and having to do everything with the squad. He didn’t know whether to leave you be or try again and again. Ultimately, he picked the first. That didn’t mean there weren’t subtle things to get your attention though.

He couldn’t think about yelling again. But it was only at you. So everyone else was graced with their lieutenant in a worse mood than he’s usually in, but they wouldn’t dare ask what was up or say anything to you. Actually, they had barely spoken to you like they had orders not to.

Ghost was rarely in the common room anyway, but now he was really tucked away in his quarters. He preserved his words, though even then they were still snappy. He had an attitude, yes, but he’d come to his senses enough to reflect and prevent himself from saying anything potentially hurtful.

He’d cherished the moments you had no choice but to be close to him a lot more than before, and his voice was barely even the tone of regular speech. Because now, he was scared.

He’d seen how bad relationships can turn, and it doesn’t help it was the man he’s seen all his life ruining what a woman gave him. He doesn’t want to be like that. And if he already has been, he tries to calm himself at night by running through his head “you’re already better than him by trying to fix it,” like a mantra. He’s cried the nights without you. He felt like he was floating away all the time, away from the Earth and the people around him. He barely knows himself anymore.

Little does he know, the time spent without him converted your sadness to anger. Rage.

He has the audacity to scream in your face? After all you do for him? After you put your life on the fucking line and take bullets for him every day?

With your father, it never did convert to anger, because you refused to let it. Being a child, you were way too dependent on him emotionally and physically. He was still your dad, you’d think.

And yes, while you loved Simon, there wasn’t the biological connection to pressure you to him. He was just a man. And if there’s anything you learned yourself, it was that you wouldn’t be pushed around by one.

So the day progressed on with an assignment. The troops were sent out, Ghost in charge.

He had made an order to surround the building, stay hidden in tall grass. A few would push in. They were armed and dangerous.

His voice was loud through the comms, going directly through the headset clear as day. Your team pressed forward alongside his. He had made every order around the fact that you needed to be right next to him, always in view, so he could keep his watchful eye out.

You crouched around the corner, waiting for command. You whisper in mic to your own squad, instructing them to watch for third-party while everyone’s idle.

The second he calls it, you all infiltrate right after smoke grenades set off. It was quickly cleared of the criminal within a few minutes because there weren’t many to take out, just a few in nooks and crannies, but one of them had caught you through a closet door. It had small blinded windows in it.

A quick sharp pain let you know there was a knife drilled into your side. It was small, and could be a lot deeper, but it still hurt like a bitch.

You had taken worse, so you gunned him down with a swift turn and ignored it. The adrenaline was medicine.

Once everyone returned to base with evac, people noticed the spot of red on your uniform but brushed it off as a battle scar. Until they saw the knife. It would be stupid to remove it.

“That looks pretty bad, you should get that patched up,” someone says. Someone you didn’t know, probably from another unit. You refrain from saying no shit and keep walking to the infirmary.

You finally decide remove it with added pressure to the wound, keeping the gauze close and the slim slit through your skin tight. The adrenaline was wearing off now and everything started to come back to you. You groan loudly when you touch it.

Red stains your fingers. It wasn’t deep but it had to be pulled out, and standing would be hard. You sit to see what you were doing.

“Fuck!” you yell.

The pain was ten times worse when you sat down, the fold of your body at the hip right underneath the opening. You feel like you could imagine the knife scraping other parts of your insides.

Suddenly the door opens. No one other than Ghost stands there, fully in gear, searching for the source of the cry. Once he locates you, you barely hear him murmur “bloody hell.” You glance up at him, then back down to what you were doing. He tries to ignore the equivalent stab in his heart at that, the one that matched the way his face drops at the sight of you. You would be able to see the white of his eyes through the mask if you’d look at him.

You were unconsciously trembling, attempting to mentally prepare yourself to pull the knife out slow. The man before you just watched.

“Get out,” you demanded.

“No,” he calmly replies. Once again, barely above a whisper, but heavy with accent.

You visibly roll your eyes and continue picking at the knife, trying to find the easiest way to retrieve it. Of course Ghost would take this time to be near you when you can’t run away from him.

He removes his gloves and opens the cabinets beside him, getting peroxide and other medical things. He walks to you with them in hand, and you bring it upon yourself to completely ignore him.

He steadily drops to a knee in front of you so you see eye to eye. You hiss when you pull at one side and it doesn’t work.

Softly, he breaks the silence, “When did this happen?”

No response. He was looking you dead in the eyes despite how horrible at eye contact he usually is.

“When did-“

“Earlier, Lieutenant.” You speak. He knows this was you digging at him. It worked, but he brushes it off.

He reaches his bare hands rid of the supplies up to help you. He was mad at nobody other than himself for not being there.

“Stop,” you shoo his hand away, tending back to your wound. Even though he wanted to help, he backed off.

To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, and he’d probably had this happen a thousand times. He was inevitably better at medical anything compared to you.

“How did it happen?” He waits. Wasting time talking to him will have you bleeding out. The knife was a little under halfway visible.

“I was taking my job seriously, Lieutenant.”

He cringes at the words he’s shameful to call his own. He wants nothing more than for you to at least be on speaking terms with him, but even that he knows he doesn’t deserve. He sighs deeply.

“I’m sorry, let me help you. Please,” he begs.

“I don’t want your help, and you don’t want mine. So we can keep it that way.”

What he said that night was far from true; you did more than just help him. He was dependent on you. He surveys the way you hiss at the straining feeling, attempting to take deep breaths between tugs, but only making it worse. He won’t let everything you’re throwing at him break him down in this state.

“Grab it from the top, do it all at once. Then stop the blood immediately.”

You huff in annoyance at his words, causing yourself pain from your own irritation. But, he did know what he was doing, so you followed the orders. He inspects you.

You tug on the knife with a painful deep breath and moan at the pain, shutting your eyes. The view alone gives Simon whatever you’re feeling tenfold.

It only goes up about a centimeter. It hurt so bad though, your breaths were heavy and enhancing the stinging sensation. Your audible whimper was enough for the man in front of you to take action.

You almost forgot how mad you were at him from the pain, so when his hands reached up to you, you just let them. His right applied pressure to the sides. He couldn’t care that it stained his rough, pale hands. The left rests on your hand planted on the seat, then he instructs you to lay down. It’ll avoid scratching any more areas inside by stretching out.

“Relax. It’ll hurt, but you got it.”

You don’t respond to this, and stare up at the ceiling. You still didn’t want to look at him.

Simon has to remember you were still fairly untouched in comparison to his background in the military, the scars and scratches proof to where he’s been. He’s not used to being gentle. He’s around grown men for god’s sake.

And while he knows you’re strong, he wishes someone took the time to allow him some vulnerability back then.

You’re on your back, awaiting his next move. He hovers over you.

“I’mna to count to three, alright? I know you can do it.”

You blink, but he knows you can hear him. Somehow it hurts worse to breathe so your chest runs shallow.

“One,” he starts.

Were you ready? He was going to-

You scream loud enough to have the entire base questioning what was going on before he gets to three, but Simon’s face doesn’t falter from his soft expression as he accurately rips the object out of you. Your hands subconsciously reach for his, then grip him with a pure strength you didn’t even know you possessed. You yelled a long line of curses with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes until it all ended as fast as it came.

You were heaving and your face was hot, sweat gathering along your hairline.

“There you go,” he praises, his movements were quick and efficient. The tape was being placed over the filled injury. “Good girl.”

You were breathless, tired, and red. You wanted to lay down.

“It hurts, Simon,” you whisper.

“I know baby, I know.”

. .

You laid in bed with the dinner one of the soldiers brought you. Simon walks in sometime later, his hand cupped.

“You alright?”

He steps in beside your bed, sitting on the covers. He releases some painkillers right next to the water on your nightstand.

You just nod.

He nods approvingly back, then rests his forearms on his thighs. There’s an uncomfortable silence. An uncomfortable silence.

The ink on his arm was visible along with the scars he’s carried. Some new, some old. It’s a simple t-shirt that stops at the bicep, but he never likes to have his arms out because he’s never comfortable with them showing.

“I just wanted to say—”

“I…don’t want to hear it.” You shut him down.

“Please?”

His ocean eyes survey yours for some type of mercy, some hint you’ll hear him out again. He has concluded that he can speak, but the worst that can happen is you’ll stop listening. You can’t really walk away.

And this was the first time his please seemed to end with a question mark.

“I didn’t mean to yell, but I did, and it hurt you. Even though I just aided you, I did it as a partner. Not just a comrade. You are great at what you do, but you mean a lot more to me than just business—I love you, because you see me differently than everyone else.”

Knowing Simon, it probably did take him the whole day and a half to come up with that and relay it. This tugged your heart strings a little, but then it all came back to you.

“On top of calling me useless you yelled in my face. What were you so angry for anyway?”

Truthfully, he felt that had he told you the real reason, It’d make him look worse. But you deserved it.

“One of the soldiers in another unit looked into my background. Found out about an old mission and the people behind it.”

You hadn’t known much about Simon’s life, because he never talks about it, but you knew enough. It was the mission where he was set up. Betrayed.

You would be pissed too.

But his head hung low in shame, angry that he let an old part of him rekindle in the form of fury. He let out said fury on you.

“Regardless, it was uncalled for. Just think on it, yeah?” He pleads. He’s not sure what he’s telling you to think on, though he doesn’t know the active status of your relationship. But he understands how degrading what he did was, and he’ll never forgive himself for it.

But you already had an answer.

“I don’t have to think on it,” you say.

His head whips around, the sadness on his face replaced with shock, and the crinkles coming to form between his brows in confusion. He’d expected the worst, but the worst was what he deserved.

“I’m still very upset. But I don’t hate you. I want you to go to therapy,” you insist.

On the inside, Simon was thrilled. This is the best outcome, better than anything he’d conjured up in his head, and he’d been told a billion times to go to therapy. If it meant being able to hold you again, he’d stay the whole day on a little couch instead of downing prescribed medication that wasn’t working every night.

“I’ll think about what to do from there. But I don’t want it to happen again, because I promise I know what my decision will be the next time,” you declare. He took this message more seriously than he takes Price some days. There was a fire in your eyes to show him how serious you were, and that you’d get up extra close to him just to point your finger in his face if you could.

He understood you hadn’t forgave him, but was giving him some type of redemption. So he could prove himself.

And he was damn good at proving himself worthy of things, hence the Lieutenant in front of his name.

this a lil long. @thesecretwriter @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @jjmoonjj @bigmannico @bloodyquillink-blog @boggiesho @earth-to-lottie @e1fade @instantplaiddream @mentallyillartist @stillinracooncity @missborntodiex @rhyanna6012 @hao-ming-8 @starrrchiato @goth-boi-atlas @keiva1000 @pampeop @sleepy-time-dreamy @laurenbenoit70 @tojis-big-daddy-milkers @jstarrs23423 @madameducyberversailles @eri-channnnnnn @schmelscorner @commandertorinshepard @lua83727 @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @nyannyanmochi020 @p1nkliquor

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