#Glad he made something that he felt he needed to

[estupidapendejaestupida]

Plus, is very cliché and extremely unfunny.

Don't drug people. It's a horrible experience.

Waking up not knowing wth just happened. With a killing headache and your stomach all twisting. It's sick. It hurts mentally and physically. I personally think that Tim would be upset about it, but he just would try to justify such actions at the same time, like:

Tim wakes up covered in sweat.

He had no clue what hour it or what day of the week. His vision is blurry, and it didn't went away even when he tried blinking. His head feels full of cotton, but it's not comforting at all. His stomach feels empty and too full at the same time, such an ache.

His body is trembling, and something is dragging a finger up and down across his spine.

Maybe minutes, maybe hours, but he finally gathers the strength to try to sit. Eyes finally flutter open, and he finds himself in a obscure room.

He holds no memories of getting in a room. Panick blossoms. All the worst possible situations swirl in his brain.

He feels... he feels. It's not a good feeling, per se. But he is kinda starting to feel again, so that's good.

Not as numb as before, he started to try to move away from the bed, when the door opens slowly and almost silently.

"Master Tim, I'm glad to see you got quite some hours of sleep." Alfred enters the room with the elegance and authority of a man who just knows knows what is the rigth solution to any problem, "Please allow me to bring you some food, any specific requests you may crave at the time?"

Tim's brain, still fogged and lagging its usual sharp ability, takes more than what the butler is willing to wait for a response.

"Very well, young master. I shall bring something easy to digest for your current state" No other word is said as he exits the room, not before turning the desk lamp on, leaving al elegantly as he always did.

'Ah. He drugged me again.'

It hadn't been the first time this had happened, and it probably wouldn't be the last one, but it still made him feel... something akin to being in a dangerous situation.

He felt quite empty after he wakes up after being drugged by the man.

Tim is quite a difficult one. He knows that. But deep in the back of his mind he felt hurt, he felt violated every time this happened.

Alfie doesn't do this with bad intentions. He just does this because Tim never follows his instructions and rests or eats when he works, if he is not being forced to. He can always count with the man to take him to bed, organize his workplace, and bring him food or water when he wakes up.

At first, when he first became Robin, the butler wouldn't pay him any mind, he couldn't care less if the kid was eating, sleeping, or taking care of his health if it wasn't strictly Robin-related. Maybe doing this, assuring Tim is following a good diet and sleep schedule, is his way of making up for his indifference from before. Maybe this is his way of showing that he cares.

And well... Tim is getting the hours of sleep he needs, so it isn't that bad if the butler slides some stuff in his meals or coffee to assure he actually rests between cases, plus this is safe environment, where he is safe... rigth?

Idk if anyone can understand this.

So I know how we have a lot of Jason and Dick or even Alfred drugging Tim in fics.

I have never liked that what so ever.

Like I don't think we as fandom really think about it.

I want you to imagine your brother or grandfather adjacent person handing you a drink that without thinking you take. You drink it and then nothing your are just out for over twelve hours.

You don't know what happened, you will never know what happened in that time frame all because you weren't sleeping the amount they wanted you to.

Also these are trained vigilante's who have more than likely witnessed rape cases with drugs who have had to help someone who was roofed home why in the fuck would you do that to one of yours.

Now another aspect why in the fuck would Jason Todd no drugs to children, and Dick Grayson who has had his bodily autonomy taken from him do this to their brother.

Alfred ok maybe he's done it to Bruce so many times he just doesn't think.

But look me in the fucking eyes and tell me they wouldn't lose their actual fucking shit if that was done to Damian or Tim.

They wouldn't be cool with it, they wouldn't laugh at it.

Imagine Jason and Dick chilling in the cave it's been a long patrol about to head to bed when they see Alfred come down and hand Tim coffee an energy drink pick your poison. They watch as Tim looks at Alfred before shoving it away.

"Master Tim it would be beneficial to your health if you drink your beverage."

"Sorry but I don't feel like being drugged tonight."

Dick wouldn't even blink before shattering the mug. Jason would be screaming at Alfred.

They would never trust that man again, the man who fed and taught them someone who had their backs.

Betrayed everything it doesn't matter the reason.

Or what if Tim drank it.

He starts slurring his words, starts to almost fall over calling for Jason or Dick.

"It was Drugged."

Falling unconscious into Jason's arms.

Jason who is screaming for help they don't know what it was they assume someone poisoned him not their sweet grandpa Alfred. The whole family rushing Dick practically crying only for Alfred to not blink tell them to get him bed as if it's normal.

In conclusion Dick Grayson and Jason Todd would not be the the spokesmen for drugging your baby brother and then carrying him to bed. They would not tamper with Tim or Damian's food. They would not ok with little brothers falling out of chairs or losing time not knowing what happened. All because they weren't following someone else's rules.

Well Tim hasn't slept in twenty four hours oh ok then let's drug him without his consent because I want him to go to bed.

That's some Arkham level bullshit.



[greengoblinswifey]

Hit My Line—Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you and nicholas are on thanksgiving break away from each other so he hits your line for help in his time of need.

warnings— switch!nicholas, L bombs, fluff, phone sex, male and female masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, degrading kink.

a/n— happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate but be careful with the turkeys, the men are fucking them apparently <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

This was the longest stretch you would ever be away from Nicholas, and every minute would seem to drag. But as you pulled away from the college campus, you turned back to reassure him, fighting the tears in your eyes.

“It’s just a few days, baby. You’ll see me soon,” you whispered softly, trying to ease the ache in his heart. “And if there’s anything—anything at all—hit my line.”

His voice was thick with emotion, but he nodded, a soft smile breaking through his sadness. "I’ll miss you so much."

The few hours apart felt unbearable, even though they weren’t even a full day. As soon as you arrived home, your phone buzzed with a message from Nicholas:

“I miss you already. I can’t stand being away from you. I just want to hold you.”

You smiled, typing out a quick reply: “I miss you too, baby. We’ll be back together before you know it.”

Thanksgiving morning came, and you woke up with a yawn, your phone ringing beside you before you even had the chance to fully roll out of bed, his name flashed across the screen. You smiled, picking up.

“Happy Thanksgiving to my incredible girlfriend,” Nicholas beamed over the phone, his voice warm and full of affection.

“Good morning, baby,” you whispered, your heart fluttering. “Happy Thanksgiving to you too.”

“I'm so thankful for you,” he said, his tone deepening. "You mean everything to me, I love you.”

The words hit you like a wave. It was the first time he'd said it though he had showed it in other ways, and the tears that threatened to well up in your eyes couldn’t be held back. “I love you too,” you said, voice cracking.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, baby,” he cooed. “I’m just so glad I have you.”

You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm yourself. “It’s okay. I’m just so thankful for you too. You're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”

He chuckled softly. “I miss you so much, and Mom wishes you were here with us for Thanksgiving. I really want you to be a part of the family.”

“I promise, next time,” you said, wiping away your final tear. “Tell her we’ll make it happen.”

You both hung up after a few more heartfelt words, and as the day went on, you spent time with your family. But your thoughts often drifted to Nicholas. The love between you felt so deep, even with the miles separating you.

That night, you made sure to text him. “How’s Thanksgiving going, baby?”

His reply came quickly: “Great, but I have a bit of a problem, I’ll tell you about it later.”

Concerned, you quickly typed back: “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. It’s nothing serious, just something I wanted to talk to you about later, when we’re alone.”

You smiled, having an idea of exactly what he meant.

After a while, when your family was settled and you were tucked into your childhood room, your phone buzzed. It was Nicholas, his voice lower than usual.

“Hey, baby,” he said, sounding a little—off.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s the problem you were talking about? You’ve got me worried.”

He took a deep breath before speaking again. “Well—uh, to be honest, I’ve been really horny all day,” he admitted with a slight laugh. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You felt a surge of heat at his confession. “How can you be thinking about that when you're with your family?” you teased lightly, but there was something about the way he said it that sent a shiver down your spine.

He hesitated for a moment, before confessing, “I don't know, I just—I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. I wish you were here.”

You let out a soft laugh, heart racing. “Well, baby, what do you want to do about it?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and then he whispered, “I’ve never done this before, but I wanna try phone sex. I’ve heard the guys in the frat talk about it, and I don’t know—I just really need you.”

“I’m down if you are, baby,”you said softly, feeling your body react. “But I don’t have my vibrator with me.”

Nicholas chuckled. “Well, I don’t have anything but my hand, but that’s enough as long as I hear your voice.”

Your breath hitched, and you could practically feel the tension between you two building on the phone. “I think that’ll do just fine,” you said, a teasing smile playing at your lips.

“Wait fuck, I forgot I had facetime, wanna switch?” he suggested.

You hung up immediately and called him on facetime, a small smirk on his face. There he was in all his glory, hair messy, shirtless with just his pajama bottoms on and his hard dick printing.

You had your bonnet on, bare faced and draped in a silk, two piece pajamas. “You look beautiful,” he said, admiring you as the red of your LED lights lit up your face, “the red lights are fitting.”

He propped up a pillow in front of him, skillfully angling the phone so that you could see his entire body. He was gorgeous as always, the dim light cascading over his shirtless body, his abs, his pecs, those fucking biceps. You wanted him on top of you crushing you. He was built like a Greek God.

You did the same, propping up the pillow and angling the phone so he could see your figure.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby,” he grunted, bucking his hips. You could see the outline of his cock pressing against his pajamas.

“Tell me all the things you want to do to me baby,” you whispered, just loud enough so he could hear over the phone.

Nicholas pulled down his bottoms, his hard cock springing out, the sight made you bite your lips as you stared at his body through the phone screen.

His hand slid down his chest, teasingly close to where he was already hard, and your breath caught in your throat. “God, I miss that body,” you breathed, your voice a little shaky.

Nicholas’ gaze darkened, his lips curling into a smile as he ran his fingers over his abs. “You like what you see, baby?” he asked, his voice husky, each word slow and deliberate. “You’re driving me crazy here. I’m so hard for you, you have no idea.”

You shivered at his words, “I think you’re forgetting who has the real power here,” you teased, your smile playful yet full of the same heat that you felt building between you both.

He let out a low laugh, clearly appreciating your confidence. “You know you’re just as beautiful as always,” he said, his eyes never leaving you. “I can’t stop imagining the way you’d feel with me inside you right now.”

You grinned, “Is that so? I think I could help you with that. If only you were here.”

“I’d be all over you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. His hand moved lower again, teasing his cock, though he didn’t touch fully. “I’d show you just how much I miss you.”

You bit your lip, unable to stop your pulse from quickening as his voice made the moment feel even more intimate. “If I were, I’d make sure you never wanted to leave me again.”

Nicholas groaned softly. “You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” His eyes flickered as his breath quickened, clearly lost in the moment. “You’re making me wish we weren’t miles apart right now.”

You smiled, a sense of power blooming within you as you responded, “Trust me, baby. I’d make it worth your while.”

You pulled off your satin pajama top, revealing your boobs, your nipples hard. Your hands went to them groping them as you bit your lip.

“Fuck, keep doing that baby, grope those fucking tits for me,” he moaned, his hands now stroking his painfully hard cock.

“I wish you were here to do it for me baby, I love the way your tongue flicks my nipples,” you said.

Your hand went down your abdomen and you heard Nicholas moaned, his movements speeding up. Swiftly, you slipped off your shorts and your panties, your pussy glistening in the light.

“Fucking hell baby, I’m gonna be so fucking deep inside that wet pussy when I see you,” he gasped, his hand moving to caress his balls.

“I’m gonna ride that cock so good, make you cum deep inside me.” You moved your fingers to collect the wetness onto your fingers before rubbing your clit. Your back arched off the bed and you did what you could to make sure you moans were soft enough so only Nicholas could hear.

“Fuck, I need that so bad right now baby, keep rubbing that clit, tell me more.” He spread his pre cum on the tip, a sweet whimper leaving his lips as his body shuddered.

“I want you to choke me while you fuck me, hard while you tell me how much of a slut I am,” you murmured, rubbing your clit in rough circles.

“I can do that baby, I can tell you how much of a dirty slut you are, fuck, you’re such a slut right now for doing this with me,” he said. The words uttering his lips were foreign to him, he was more inclined to have you do the degrading and taking the lead—unless you asked of course.

“Oh— baby, I wish you were here to fuck me hard from behind, I know how much you love this ass slapping against you,” you breathed out, your efforts speeding up, you were right on edge.

“Make sure you keep that same fucking energy when I see you, ‘cause I’ll be the one in control,” he said, tilting his head back slightly as his eyes averted to your fingers moving between your legs and his hand wrapped firmly around his cock, “you see how fast I’m stroking this hard fucking cock? That’s how fast I’ll be fucking you.”

“Baby, I think I’m gonna cum, can I cum for you?” you asked, now slipping your fingers inside your pussy.

“N-not yet, take those fingers out and put them in your mouth and then fuck yourself with them again,” he demanded, stroking his cock even faster now, “then I want you groping your tits.”

You did as you were told, bringing your dripping fingers up to your mouth and moaning around them as you savored your own tasted. Your hand went to your boobs, groping them as you imagined they were Nicholas’ large hands. As you did, you slipped your fingers back into your pussy, the sound of squelching the only thing that could be heard apart from your boyfriend’s breathy moans on facetime.

“Fuck, be a good fucking girl and cum for me, cum for me baby,” he gasped.

“Oh, Nicholas,” you moaned, your back arching from the bed as you finger fucked your pussy. Your juices spurted from you, coating your phone screen and the pillow in front of you. You moved your fingers to your clit, rubbing and guiding yourself through your orgasm, trying your best to quiet your breathy moans.

“Fucking hell baby, you’re so hot, squirting like that—shit, oh God, I’m gonna cum, can I cum baby? Please, I’m your good boy, I wanna cum for you,” he gasped, his body trembling as his hands moved quickly up and down his shaft.

“Cum for me baby, let me see that load all over your hand for me,” you uttered, groping your boobs as you watched him through the phone.

You got more than what you bargained for as Nicholas came all over his hand and even more so on his abdomen. “F-fuck baby, that was so hot,” he moaned breathily.

You both took a moment, panting as you stared at each other, your naked bodies rising and falling.

“I really enjoyed that baby,” you smiled, “shit, my screen’s all messed up.”

He laughed, rubbing his cum all over his abdomen, “I enjoyed that even more sweetheart, but now we gotta get cleaned up and you need your beauty rest.”

“Well, I guess this is goodbye until I call you next morning?” you giggled.

“No problem baby, I love you so much, never forget that and I miss you so much, I can’t wait to see you,” he said, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.

“I love you too Nick, I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you soon.”

[letsgoletsgetit08]

ateez soft hours pt. 2

how they would treat you while you're on your period

maknae line

warning: mdni, period sex, smut

word count: 3.4k

ao3 link: maknae line

author's note: I uh. yeah.

choi san: "What's up, babe?" He sounds out of breath over the phone, "I'm finishing up at the gym."

"Everything hurts and I want to die." You whine.

"Oh, no, my poor baby! Do I need to bring you any supplies on my way over?" His voice was sweet, always so attentive. You felt lucky every day that he grew up with an older sister.

"No, I'm okay with all that, but thank you. I just want you to come lay on top of me with your entire body weight."

"Anything you want, honey. You know you could come join me at the gym, exercise helps relieve cramps, allegedly." He was mainly joking.

You groaned, "Ugh, Choi San stop talking about exercise right now or I'm going to turn homicidal. You know any other day I would have gone with you."

He laughed at your dramatics, "I know, precious. I just had to tease, I'm sorry. I'll be sweet the rest of the night, promise."

"I mean if you really want me to break a sweat, I have some ideas for cardio we could do later." Heat curls in your aching abdomen at the thought of it. Glad your boyfriend has never been squeamish about period sex.

"Oh?" He asked, you were silent until the implication hit him, "Ohhhh. Well, yes, of course." His voice lowered so he couldn't be heard by anyone around him, "You know I'll take care of you, baby. Make you feel so good. No touching yourself until I get there, okay?"

Your thighs clenched together at his words, "Okay, yes, I'll be good." Your voice was breathy, already laced with lust.

"Mmh, good girl. Already getting all bothered for me, aren't you? I'll see you soon, honey." He didn't give you a chance to reply before the line went dead.

San was so good at picking up on your cues, happy to take the lead or to follow, depending on your mood. You liked him any way you could get him but your favorite was when he gently took the reins, giving you soft but stern instructions and showering you with praise all night, talking you through every orgasm. The thought of it made it hard for you to keep the promise you had just made to him.

You decided to shower instead, waiting for him to come home, feeling a little yucky after being in bed all day.

By the time you emerged in nothing but a towel, San was already there.

"Hi, gorgeous." He enveloped you in a big hug. He had showered at the gym, it seemed, hair still damp, cheeks rosy, comfy in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Sannie." You sighed into his chest.

He pulled back and trailed his hands down your arms, "Look at you, all clean just for me?"

You nod, looking down, feeling shy and exposed. Hormones, probably.

He pulled the towel open to look at you, "Oh, honey. I'll never get over how stunning you are." He pulled the towel all the way off, tossing it over the still-open bathroom door, reaching for you again, hands warm as they fell to your slightly boated tummy. He always made you feel so beautiful even when you felt like a hot pile of dog shit. "I brought something." He kissed your forehead then went to his backpack, pulling out a bottle of massage oil, "Thought this might be nice. I know your body is achey. Does a massage sound nice?"

"It sounds incredible." You smile at him, tears in your eyes, feeling especially grateful for him in that moment.

"Come on then, jagi." He leads you to your bedroom, grabbing a new towel on his way, to keep the massage oil - and whatever other potential bodily fluids - off of your bedding.

He has you on your stomach, deft hands turning you to putty at their touch, paying special attention to your lower back, where he knows carries extra tension. You're nearly in a trance when he wipes one hand on the towel, still kneading one ass cheek with his other hand, evidently able to tell what the massage was doing to you, your core becoming wet with arousal. He removed his other hand and you hear a squirting noise. When his hand returns, you realize the noise had been him applying lube to his fingers, which were now teasing your already slick slit, up and down, movements slow. Your legs parted further on instinct.

"Yes, baby, that's it. This is what you wanted, hm? Don't worry, I'm going to make you feel good." San’s voice was low and you felt yourself grind back into his fingers at it. "Patience, love." He chuckled, "We have all the time in the world."

His fingers found your clit, applying pressure to either side of it, before finally brushing over the top, just briefly before they slid down your folds once again, his other hand spreading your ass cheek as he held his fingers to your entrance. He didn't have to apply much pressure at all, you were so turned on that your cunt sucked him in greedily. He thrust them in and out a few times before curling them forward, hitting your sweet spot. Your back arched at the sensation and you could tell he was smiling behind you, "Mmh, so responsive, jagiya. I could do this for hours."

And you believe him, too. He sets a pace but slows down when you try to fuck yourself back onto his fingers, "No, no, sweetheart. Let me bring you there. I want you as relaxed as you were when I was massaging you, okay?"

"Yes, sir." You manage, face squished by the mattress, brain floating towards another planet already.

"Good girl." He says, fingers returning to continue their ministrations.

At some point, his thumb finds your tight ring of muscle, taunting him as it sat there within reach right above your now absolutely quivering cunt, circling it and adding just a little pressure. A gasp leaves your mouth at the sensation, surprised at how much you like it. "Mmh, so sensitive. You like this don't you?" You were so wet, every nerve alight at his touch, seconds from falling apart, holding on because you knew he would want to tell you when to let go. "You've been so good for me, angel, why don't you go ahead and come? On my fingers like a good girl."

Your body obeyed immediately, pleasure rolling through you. You thought your orgasm might never end, it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. "There we go baby, just like that. God, you're stunning." You were still clenching when he removed his fingers, just long enough to strip off his boxers and tank top, climbing back up and guiding the tip of his cock to your absolutely drenched core, letting you suck him in, inch by inch. The way he filled you had you immediately working up to your second peak, "Christ, honey, you're so wet. So. Fucking. Tight." He punctuated his words with the snap of his hips as your walls clenched around him again and again.

"Sannie-" You cried out in pleasure.

"I know, kitten, I'm right here with you." He purred. By the time you're worked up to your third release, he's cumming in perfect time with you, cock quivering as he pumped you full. "Oh my god, yes, fuck." He cried out. "You were made to take me, weren't you, baby? So fucking good for me." He praised you as he pulled out, collapsing beside you and dragging your limp body over to lay on his glistening chest.

"Sannie, that was... fuck." You couldn't form proper words, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me, jagi." He kissed your forehead, "The pleasure is all mine."

song mingi: He barely stirs as you roll on top of him, body aching, too early to do anything about it.

"Mmh, baby," Mingi’s morning voice is deep, raspy, one of his big hands pulls your leg up over his hips, the other tugging you closer to his chest.

You fall back asleep for a while. When you wake up, your head is a little more clear, and you realize you've bled through your underwear onto Mingi’s boxers. Heat flushes your cheeks in embarrassment and he stirs as he feels your body tense.

"'S wrong, jagi?" He rubs your back as his eyes blinked open slowly.

"Mingi, I'm so sorry, I-" you move your leg and he realizes what happened.

"C'mere." He pulls you back down into a slow kiss, apparently immune to your morning breath. You can't help but let out a moan as his hand finds your ass cheek, helping your hips grind into his thigh. "Yeah, you like that?" He all but growls into your ear as his hands work your stained underwear off, following with his own swiftly behind.

He rolls you over wordlessly, spooning you from behind, his already hard length in hand as you open your legs for him. He drags the head of his cock from your clit up to your soaked entrance, repeating it a few times until you're whining, grinding your ass back, begging to be taken.

"Oh, really?" He whispers, kissing down your shoulder, "You want me that bad, hm?"

"Please, Mingi, yes." You beg.

He holds his cock to your entrance, "Don't worry baby, I've got you." He pushes forward slowly, tip barely buried inside of you. "Go ahead, then." He instructs. You obey, working yourself down rather easily with the extra lubrication as you stretch over his large dick. You can tell he's watching himself disappear inside of you, his hair tickling your shoulder.

"Ah, fuck, jagi. You take me so well." He moans, beginning to lay long, lazy strokes. You knew when you first saw him dance on stage that his stroke game would be incredible, and you were pleased to find out how right you were when you started dating. It's only improved as he's gotten to know you better.

His hand reaches around to find your clit, fingers bumping into his shaft as he pleasures you, the perfect amount of pressure, circling and stroking. You were cramping so bad when you woke up but now your ab muscles had been given something real to focus on. You lean back, head falling to his broad shoulder as your whole body spasms in release. "Fuck yeah, just like that, baby." Mingi growls, his pace picking up as he works you through it, hips pumping harder and faster until he finally stills, and the feeling of his cock pumping you full of his seed is nearly enough to have you on the edge of coming again. All he has to do is play with your tender nipples and lay a few more strategic strokes and you're clenching around him again, breathless, whole body boneless, insides jellied.

You both caught your breath for a minute before Mingi spoke again. "Baby, I know we had plans for the farmers market today, but I'm sore from dance practice yesterday and I know you don't feel well. What if I make us some breakfast and start a load of laundry and then we can stay in all day and watch movies until I have to go to the studio tonight?"

You crane your neck around to kiss him, off-kilter from the odd angle, "That sounds perfect, baby."

"Mmh, good, I'm glad." He kissed you again, "Let me go grab you some Midol and start the shower, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you for being so sweet to me."

"Of course baby," He smiled as he extracted himself from your back, "I'm happy to. You always take care of me, it's the least I could do."

jung wooyoung: Hands on your waist startle you as you're washing dishes, audio book playing through your headphones concealing the noise of Wooyoung letting himself in.

“Ah!” You nearly drop the bowl in your hands, “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!”

You feel yourself relax into his touch as he hooks his chin over your shoulder and moves one headphone off of your ear, “Baby, you're shouting.”

You huff as you place the bowl onto the drying rack, “Whose fault is that?”

He begins tickle you, “Not my fault!”

“Youngie!” You whine as you turn around in his arms, trying to evade his attacks, “Stop it!”

“Aw, grumpy,” his pout matches the one on your face.

You slap his chest playfully, “Hey, I have the right to be grumpy, my period just started.”

His expression turns sympathetic immediately, “Oh, jagi.” He kisses your forehead, “How can I help?”

You considered it for a second, “Well, I bought ingredients to make dinner but I really don't feel like cooking, so I was thinking about ordering in instead.”

“No way.” He grasped your face in his hands, “I'm gonna get you set up in the living room and then I'll get started cooking, okay?”

“Are you sure? You don't have-”

He cuts you off with a swift kiss, “No protesting. I'm happy to do it.”

You watch one episode of the show you've seen a thousand times, curled up on the living room couch, but as you see the preview for the next episode, you realize it's one you don't care much for, plus, the smell coming from the kitchen is calling your name. You turn off the TV and walk in right as Wooyoung is bending down to put the food in the oven to bake, making yourself right at home behind him on the island. He shuts the oven door and removes your light pink oven mitts- which look adorable on him - turning to spread your legs open so he can stand between them, arms caging you in as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Hi, beautiful.” You've always found his voice endearing, but it's especially so with the slight rasp it gets when he's jonesing for a you fix.

“Hi, handsome.” You barely get the words out before he's kissing you. Slow, deep movements from his mouth draw a moan from yours.

You can already feel heat pooling between your legs at his proximity and you pull back to ask, “Baby?”

“Yes, darling?” He smiles, eyes dark with desire, reveling in how he knows he drives you crazy.

“How much time do we have?”

“Twenty minutes,” His hand skims the waistband of your loose sleep shorts, sending shivers down your spine, “Plenty of time.”

You don't get a chance to reply before his fingers find their way inside your underwear, circling your throbbing bud slowly before dipping down to gather the slick that has gathered at your entrance, taking his time as he trails them back up, exploring your folds before resuming his ministrations at your clit.

Your hand finds his waist to hold onto for support, getting carried away with the sensations he's providing.

His thumb takes over for his fingers as they work their way south once again, circling your entrance before plunging them inside, curling them to hit your sweet spot.

“Wooyoung-” You gasp, your muscles already tensing at the magic he's working.

His lips tickle your earlobe as he whispers, “Shh, jagi, I've got you.”

Your head falls to his shoulder as his fingers set a pace, the sound of how wet you are at his touch only serving to double it.

You whimper as your walls start to clench around them and you can almost picture the smirk he's wearing, “That's it, pretty, just like that. Come on my fingers.” His words only intensify the sensation of pleasure as you clench around his fingers, panting as you call out his name.

He pulls his hand out when he's sure you've ridden out the waves, holding his slick fingers, streaked in some places with blood, in front of his face, devilish look on his face, eyebrow cocked.

“Wooyoung!” You scold him, “Don't you dare-”

But it's too late, he's popped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean, eyes rolling back in his head at the taste.

Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Beep-beep!

The timer goes off, interrupting you from further chastising him.

“What?” A smile takes over his face, “You taste good all the time, honey.”

You roll your eyes, but secretly find it cute.

He insists on feeding you bites of your dinner later, wiping the corners of your mouth with a napkin when you're finished.

Later, in the shower, you let him bend you over and hit it from behind, pulling out last second to finish, hot liquid landing on your back, your ass. He helps you wash your body to make up for it.

Once in bed, he kisses you all over, making you giggle and squirm before finally relenting and tugging you to his chest, stroking your hair as your breath evens out and you drift off to sleep.

choi jongho: You almost wonder if the man has logged into your period tracking app on his phone, uncanny in how he can pretty much always predict it. Eyes studying you a few days out as you tear up unexpectedly at a particularly sappy car commercial. You find your cabinets stocked with your favorite snacks the next day. 

The next morning, you wake up bloated, cramping, and grumpy. As you head into the bathroom, you realize Jongho has re-stocked your pain killers and period supplies. You call him when you get back into bed. 

He answers on the second ring, “Hi, princess, how are you feeling today?” 

“I swear you're more accurate than my tracking app, you fortune teller.” You can't help but be amazed at his abilities. 

He chuckles, “No, peach, I just pay attention.”

You smile at the cute pet names. He's always trying out new ones on you. You can hear traffic in the background, “You're the best. What are you up to?” 

“I'm about five minutes from your apartment.” He answers. 

“Choi Jongho!” You giggle, “How did I get so lucky?” 

“I'm the lucky one, jagi. I'll see you soon.” 

He's good to his word, chocolate and a teddy bear in his arms, backpack slung over one shoulder when you open the door to let him in. 

“Baby!” You all but squeal, “You're too good to me.” 

He puts his things down on the coffee table and pulls you into a big bear hug, “Anything for my perfect girl.” 

You pull back and he traces your cheek with his thumb before leaning in to kiss you, his lips slow and careful, hands gentle as he pulls you close. Your tongue probes into his mouth and he allows it, a moan coming forward from somewhere deep in his chest. He detached his lips, “Do you want to go to your bedroom, sweetheart?” 

“Yes, please.” You simper. 

He scoops you up bridal style and carries you to your bed, placing you gingerly onto the bed, climbing on top of you, kissing you into the mattress. 

“Baby,” You stop him as he reaches for the hem of your shirt.

“What's up?” He falls to the bed beside you, not wanting to crowd you. 

“I'm probably going to sound crazy and too needy-”

“Hush, don't talk about my girlfriend like that. Tell me what you need, ma chérie.” 

You giggle at his attempt at French, “I don't really want to like… have sex. Because I feel icky. But I still want to. You know.” 

He smiles fondly at you, “Where's your vibrator, gorgeous?” 

You blush, pointing to your bedside table drawer. 

He is relentless with your favorite toy, talking you through multiple orgasms, leaving your legs jellied, panting and sweating.

“So good for me, darling. I love watching you come.” He praises you as he switches the vibrator off, placing it on the bed beside him, pulling your boneless body to his chest. 

“Thank you for understanding,” you murmur into his chest, “Sorry I didn't feel like doing more.” 

“You never need to apologize for something like that.” He kisses your forehead, “Promise I'm happy to do it anytime. Anything to help my baby feel good.” 

The teddy bear he brought is the weighted kind you microwave to help alleviate cramps, which he fixes up for you before curling up with you on the couch, chocolate within reach. He turns on your favorite comfort movie without being asked, humming the score softly. The sound of his voice melts your heart. You feel yourself drift off to sleep before the movie ends, with Jongho’s strong, warm hands moving absentmindedly across any expanse of skin within his reach, heart feeling fuzzy with affection towards your sweet boyfriend.

[despressoslatte]

not the zoey you wanted (two)

pairing: zach maclaren x female reader!

summary: you waited all weekend for your boyfriend, Zach, to call or text, anything, to explain why he had just went and ghosted you when you were supposed to go with him on a family ski trip to meet his parents, his sister Avery, and his cousin, Miles.

content warnings: angst; victims of catfishing; miscommunication trope

masterlist | < one

ᡣ𐭩a/n: if you want me to add you to the taglist for this fic send me an ask!

ᯓᡣ𐭩

Zach watched the girl on his driveway, drive away. The dumbfounded look didn’t leave his face as everyone stood there confused as to what the hell just happened.

“I knew it,” Miles muttered, looking over at Zoey from his spot on the porch. “You’re not Zach’s girlfriend.”

The accusation rang loudly in Zach’s ears, almost hurting his head as everyone’s heads snapped from Miles to Zoey. She stood there with a shocked look on her face, like a deer in headlights. Zach looked to the car that was turning off of his street now.

He whispered out, “Y/N…” He looked at Zoey, blinking a few time as his memories were slowly coming back. 

Zoey looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

“What are you talking about?” Zach asked his cousin, needing someone to put together the pieces of the puzzle because the pieces he kept trying to make fit wouldn’t connect.

“She’s not your girlfriend, dude,” Miles reiterated, pointing at Zoey with a shake of his head and an unbelievable scoff. “I thought when you introduced her to us… you just got a thing for Zoey’s.”

“Miles, honey, what are you talking about?” Connie asked, looking between the three college students with a look of bafflement splayed across her face.

Miles walked down off the porch, phone in hand, and jammed the screen towards Zach’s face. He was looking at a photo of his own Instagram page, full of photos of himself and the girl who just drove away nearly in tears.

Zach looked between the phone and Zoey, who stood there biting her lips as tears filled in her eyes.

“Look… I…” Zoey started to explain, and everything from the ski trip started to make sense. The signs Zach didn’t realize at first.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 THE SKI TRIP

Zach MacLaren was confused, to say the least. Ever since that car hit his bike and he went flying onto the pavement outside the bookstore, everything felt… weird, out of place almost. When the doctor had said that he was experiencing some form of short term memory loss from his concussion, all he could be was glad that was all that it was, and that Zoey was there with him. Though, that felt weird, too. Especially when he could’ve sworn he called her something other than Zoey and was confused why she was confused about the ski trip. 

Hadn’t he invited her to that, or is he forgetting about that, too? Sign one.

At dinner, Miles came through the side door that lead to the kitchen, and Zach watched the way he paused for a second when he saw Zoey standing in the kitchen with his mother and father. Zach just smiled, getting up from the couch and placing a hand on the small of her back.

“Miles, this is my girlfriend, Zoey,” Zach introduced them.

Miles’ eyebrows furrowed downwards, not that Zach knew why. Maybe he thought she was out of his league, which honestly, he felt like she kind of was. They shook hands and when Zoey walked away, Zach caught Miles pulling his phone out quickly, looking down at it and then back up to where Zoey had sat back down in the living room a couple of times. It was like he was comparing something, not that Zach knew what. 

He just figured after his amnesia concussion, he wouldn’t understand a lot of things for a while. 

“Why are they all named Zoey?” he heard Miles ask under his breath, and while that also confused Zach, he didn’t question it. Sign two.

At dinner, his mother, Connie, made the comment, “I thought your name was Y/N?”

Zach tilted his head to the side, confused where that name came from. It did sound familiar. Zach’s dad, Matt, reached for his wife’s hand.

“It’s her middle name, remember, honey?” Matt reminded Connie. “Zach told us her friends back home call her Zoey, but she goes by her first name at their university.”

Zach nodded slowly, as if being reminded of that conversation while his mother said, “Right!”

He looked at Zoey, seeing a small awkward smile on her face. So, her first name was Y/N… He remembered that… didn’t he?

“You guys can just call me Zoey like the people back home, though,” Zoey interjected sheepishly. “I’m still not fully… used… to being called… Y/N…” Sign three.

“Zoey it is,” Matt smiled in agreement.

“So, Zoey, how’s Zach doing in tutoring now?” Connie asked.

“Knowing Zach? Horribly,” Avery teased, earning a mocking “ha ha” from her older brother.

“Tutoring?” Zoey asked, confused as she ate the food on her plate.

Zach just smiled, putting an arm around the back of her chair. “See, my grade in English is so good that I don’t even need tutoring anymore,” he said proudly. “Not that she doesn’t still help me. But as girlfriend, not tutor.”

“Right, English,” Zoey laughed awkwardly, grabbing her water to chug from so she didn’t need to answer any other question she wouldn’t know the answer to. Sign four.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 THE MACLAREN HOUSE

“I’m just surprised Avery didn’t say anything either, since I’m sure she’s seen photos of Zoey on your page,” shrugged Miles as he put his phone back in his pocket.

Avery was waving her hands over her neck, as if to tell Miles to shut up.

“You have an Instagram young lady?” Connie shot her daughter a disapproving stare. “You know you are not allowed to have social media.” Then to Zach. “You know she isn’t allowed to have social media.”

“She doesn’t,” Zach shook his head at the change of topic. “I made her give me the password, changed the password, locked her out, and now she can’t use it at all.”

All eyes fell back onto Zoey after the short detour. She had already explained why she did what she did—at first, it was to not stress him out like the doctor requested. Then, it was selfishly to get closer to Miles. Zach felt a pit in his stomach knowing he was actually feeling some sort of connection to her before this, but now he just wanted to throw up.

God, the look on your face when you had walked away… You thought he… Well, technically he… Oh, god.

Zach really looked like he was about to be sick, his head throbbing as the photos of you and Zoey’s story started to job his memory.

“I cheated on my girlfriend…” he muttered under his breath, aching and hating himself. He glared at Zoey. “You made me cheat on my girlfriend,” he spoke louder, a scoff leaving his throat. “How could you do that to me? To her?”

He could barely hear her excuse over the thoughts racing in his head over how he was going to make this one up to you.

“You’re the girl from the bookstore who called me an idiot,” it dawned on Zach.

“No, no,” she shook her head. “It was the name of the book… You’re not an idiot, Zach. You’re so smart… and so sweet… and I didn’t expect to like you, but I… I felt like we really connected this weekend.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Zach said with raised shoulders, pointing out into oblivion for emphasis. “Whatever you felt for me this weekend, and whatever the hell connection I thought we had… none of that was real! Me… Me and Y/N… we were real… are real, if I can…”

If he can fix it.

“I’m sorry, I-I…” Zoey tried to find the words to explain.

“I… I need to get back.”

He had no classes on Mondays, but there was soccer practice later that evening. He planned to eat lunch at his parents’ before hitting the road, but now he needed to get back to you. God, his phone was broken, and you were going to spend the next two hours driving thinking he cheated on you.

He grabbed his luggage, looking at his parents for a second.

“I gotta go,” he said quickly.

“Good luck,” Avery called out after him as he got to his car, absentmindedly throwing his luggage into the backseat.

He needed to fix this. He needed you to know this was all a misunderstanding, a miscommunication really. That… that Zoey Miller was just a catfish who pretended to be you to a freaking amnesia patient. That he remembered clearly now.

It didn’t matter that his phone was broken when he got hit by that car. He knew the route back to your on-campus apartment like the back of his hand. He turned the radio on and just drove.

[solsticescribe]

Simon Riley x reader one-shot

Simon came home from a long deployment last night. You had no idea where he was during that time or what happened, you knew you were not supposed to know anything. You were just glad that he was back and safe.

After a great struggle of getting out of his hold this morning, you started unpacking his bag that he left on the floor right in the middle of the hallway (he was too busy thinking about getting into bed with you to care about where he left his stuff).

As you took out his dirty clothes, you noticed what looked like a plastic bag on the bottom. After starting the washing machine and getting the rest of his stuff out, you took the beige package into your hands to examine it.

What you were currently holding in your hand was an MRE. You’ve seen people all over Tiktok reviewing these meals and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious about what they were like. Looks like this could be your chance to find out.

As you were examining the packet, you felt two bulky arms wrap around you and a face nuzzling your neck. “Mhh morning love” You heard Simon’s voice grumbling, still heavy with sleep. “Morning. Isn’t a bit too early for you to be up? You should sleep some more” You kissed all over his face and neck where you could reach. Simon shook his head. “ ‘s not as good without you in bed” “Are you hungry by any chance? I have some breakfast ready” You pointed to the pan sitting on the stove, his favorite breakfast, that you made earlier, just waiting to be heated up.

“Maybe later” He cupped your cheeks and pressed multiple little kisses to your lips. He had his eyes closed, fully emerged in the feeling of having you close to him and finally being able to love on you properly.

“What do you want to do with that?” He asked in between kisses, referring to the bag in your hands. He still had his eyes still closed and not showing any sign that he wishes to stop with the kisses.

“Well, can I try it? If you don’t need it” You held his face in your hands, stopping him so that you would have enough time to speak. “Whatever you want sweetheart. I was planning on throwing it out. Don’t expect anything gourmet though”

He left you at the counter to unbox everything from the MRE packet while he turned on the stove to heat up his breakfast.

Simon fixed himself a plate and sat next to you, watching your expression as you tried the different snacks and meal included in the bag. He smiled to himself, thinking about just how adorable you looked, eyes lighting up when trying things you liked and furrowing when you didn’t like something.

His own meal was soon forgotten, leaning on the countertop, he watched you fumble around with the small packets with a barely noticeable smile on his face. He found this quite amusing.

Trying the last thing included, you were disappointed by the blandness of it. You put everything in the bin and sat on Simon’s lap. “I’m sorry you have to eat that so often” You said while wrapping your arms around his neck. He just hummed, one arm around your waist to hold you closer, with the other, he held up a bite from his left-over breakfast to help wash away the taste in your mouth. You eagerly took the fork in your mouth. “Wanna know why isn’t it so bad?” He asked while preparing another bite for you “I know that I get to come home to you and your cooking. Makes it all worth it to keep you safe”

[cantareincminor]

Fandom Wrapped (Reader Edition) 2024!

Thanks to the wonderful @kattyelf for creating this template! Links and detailed reviews under the cut.

Disclaimer: I probably read hundreds of SxF fics in the past year, and it was not easy to choose which ones to put in the list above (or below)! This fandom is full of wonderful, friendly creators and I am so glad to be part of it. I also had to narrow it down to only the ones I read and reread in 2024, not 2022 or 2023. Finally...I also happened to read many good fics only once. Sometimes a fic is just too painful or sad to reread, especially if it's not finished.

Favorite fic and author: After peace by @unhappy-sometimes!

I could gush about unso for a whole post and not be done, but I will try to contain myself. Her fic After peace originated from an AU comic she drew where Twilight was forced to retire early due a major injury, and drifted aimlessly until WISE asked him to take care of an orphan they had rescued from Project Apple. There are several things that amazed me about this fic and cemented it in first place for 2024:

The premise. It was original and so full of potential.

How personal Twilight's journey felt to me. I didn't have a life-threatening injury, but I did put my career on hiatus in the past year and have often struggled with questions of -- what am I worth when I'm not "doing" anything? I was so used to going 150% in the rat race and coming out on top at great personal cost to health and family; even if all that was bad, how else can I get that sense of accomplishment? How can I stop wanting that sense of accomplishment?

Her style, which is both vivid AND concise. The fic was around 22K words if I remember correctly, with a well-constructed plot, character arcs, plenty of emotional beats, and a satisfying resolution. I often wonder if my writing is too verbose and when I see something like After peace, it challenges me to do better.

THIS WAS UNSO'S FIRST FIC EVER. THE HELL. It's like a freshman album that gets put up for a Grammy.

Fic(s) I reread (plus runners-up):

That Time Yor Seriously Thought About Leaving by peonydee: This is a WIP with one more chapter before completion, I believe. Peonydee's style is unique in how it's hard-hitting and disarming at the same time. Yor and Twilight find themselves in impossible situations, their relationship tested to the limit (and one of them in a close brush with death), yet there's still an undercurrent of wry humor, almost fatalistic due to the fact both of them have been steeped in death and dirty work for decades, yet still hopeful and reaching for each other. I also cackle every time she makes Twilight go off on a mansplaining tangent without ever using the term outright. A masterpiece of show not tell.

Is It Really All Right? by zyzy1083: This one is tender. A jealous!Loid fic with a fascinating portrayal of Loid from Yor's perspective. The imagery of a dark sea choking down any true thought or emotion from breaking for air will stay with me for a long time. There's also the fact she basically made up lyrics for an indie song as part of the plot and I had to ask whether it was a real song. Finally, there's the fact she was bold enough to portray Loid as less than a perfect, kind, smiley husband toward Yor, but in a believable way. He snaps at Yor at times. He loses his patience. It feels like a real relationship, in the awkward tension when one partner wants to talk and the other absolutely does not want to talk. I admire that courage and wish more authors would take that risk (calling myself out I guess!).

Green-eyed Monster by bigbruja: another jealous!Loid fic that's lighthearted and fun. This is a comfort reread. I enjoy seeing Loid recognize the threat of a supposed "old friend" of Yor's, questioning his own feelings and how far he needs to go to fend this guy off. The guy is a Garden assassin, unbeknownst to him. I also love Yor's own inner struggle of just wanting everyone to get along, but showing steel when she needs to.

dalliance by rosetintednerdglasses: this is a WIP, but it is HILARIOUS and I hope everyone will go encourage this author to pick this fic back up when they have a chance. TLDR, Twilight (in disguise) is sent on a joint mission with Thorn Princess and flips out internally when he sees it's Yor. Handler then orders him to ensure Thorn Princess continues to cooperate. So as Twilight, he has to sort-of honey trap Thorn Princess, while as Loid he has to keep Yor happy. Poor Yor believes she's torn between two different men and close to cheating on Loid! Situational hilarity all over the place, and fun world-building, like this other WISE agent randomly named "Steel Bunny" (LOL).

Not According to Plan by @kyrathel: love you girl! This is a gift fic for me, but that's not the reason I reread it (even though it's a WIP as well!). It's SO FUNNY. Twilight gets it in his overly anxious head that he MUST defend his wife from the bullies at City Hall, so what does he do? HE INFILTRATES CITY HALL AS A NEW FEMALE HIRE. The world absolutely needs more petty!Twilight! The latest chapter features laxative brownies. Enough said.

Let's start living dangerously by @beannoss: I specifically reread the later parts when dumb Twilight gets over his dumbness and finally talks to Yor! And they kiss again! I love the way huhwaku (beannoss) portrays overthinking Twilight AND overthinking Yor. And also, the simplicity of Yor at the same time. The voice she uses for both of them is refreshing, it really puts you in the mindset of the character. Yor's giggles ("teehee!") as she teases Twilight about his little perfectionist habits are a cute touch to a gentle, heartwarming fic about these two highly competent professionals just starting to take baby steps in how to be competent at a relationship.

Fic that made me emotional:

100% Perfect by @sometimesiship. Where do I begin? How about with the gut aversion I initially had to the premise of a futuristic AI dating bot AU, due to all the tragic, dark AI movies I have watched? But as it neared completion, someone convinced me to give it a try and I AM SO GLAD I DID. You can see my gushing comments in almost every chapter. The development of the relationship between human Yor and AI Loid is so natural, funny at times, poignant always, and beautifully written, even though from an objective standpoint not much exciting stuff happens (I mean canon-typical excitement like murders and spy missions). Sometimesiship has a way of describing emotion that is so raw -- she can portray the same emotion a dozen different ways with analogies and setups and dialogue and whatever -- and it still doesn't feel old. And the emotion that dominated the second half of the story was grief. Basically the grief of loving someone you know you're going to lose. Like being the spouse of a terminal cancer patient. I didn't cry while reading, but it was a closer call than I have had in a VERY long time. So much beauty and humanity in this story. And spoiler (?), it's a happy ending. So I hope you all go check it out!

That's a wrap! If you read this far, stay tuned for a Writer version of Fandom Wrapped 2024!

[maudie-duan]

First Series!!!

Series Summary: For nearly two years, Harry has been fighting to keep his relationship with Olivia afloat. At what point does he make the choice to either endure or let the stain of the world defeat his ambitious hopes of a lasting relationship? Or will a single night and a fleeting encounter be enough to change the projection of Harry’s path? Maybe our ‘Mystery Girl,’ Shiloh, will just happen to be in the right place at the right time. 

A/N: You guys, this is my first series; bear with me. In no way, shape, or form is this meant to follow Harry’s actual life, nor are the facts or timelines real. This story will be from Harry and Shiloh’s POVs. I like switching between them. I’m nosy, and you get more details this way. So, if you like details, you’re in the right place. This story will be a slow burn, so hold tight. I’m glad you’re here!!! ENJOY!!!!

Word Count: 2K

Warning: Strong language, minor angst, eventual smut, emotional.

Harry’s (POV) Part 1- Mystery Girl

***

I don’t usually think of how my relationships will end, but I’ve been thinking about our ending—the consequence of our beginning looming over our heads as if it were a pleading prayer whispered into the night. When “I love you” no longer sufficed, the emptiness stretched between us and how fickle we were. How we continued seeking tiny moments, desperate to fill that void—A revolving door of new faces and places where we lay tucked away, pressing our bodies together like puzzle pieces, hoping that one day they would fit together—indefinitely.

Surely, we knew this wasn’t going to work, right? From the beginning, we’ve been on two different parallels, trying to make this work, trying to force a path through murky water when neither one of us knew when or how the tide would roll in—and here I am, miserable out of my fucking mind. In a shit headspace just waiting for this evening to end because there’s nothing worse than getting into a massive blowout right before an event. I can’t figure out what’s worse, the fight or the forced niceties. The last place I wanted to be was in public, but this is my life.

Olivia was on about something—actually, I don’t even remember what the fight was about this time, and that’s what it’s been lately. These bullshit fights about petty, senseless matters that take more energy to create than they do to fix. It’s just that she’s gotten so jealous and paranoid that I’m growing distant, that she’s the only one fighting to be in this relationship, and maybe she’s right.

—Side note: Before tonight, I really hadn’t been interested in anyone. Honest to god, I was truly in this wholeheartedly.

Anyone who knows me knows I’m constantly in the public eye, even if I think I’m lying low. There’s always a chance that someone will recognize me. The chances of someone taking a picture are even greater because everyone needs proof, or it didn’t happen, right? I personally don’t believe in this—but to each their own—If you know me and who I am, that’s precisely what you get. She knew this when we met, yet she insists that every move I make is for the world, like I can’t comprehend all of the sacrifices that she has made to be with me. Trust me, I know, and as of late, she’s taken every opportunity to throw it back in my face. 

In all honesty, I know that relationships take work, but isn’t there supposed to be balance? Somewhere along the way, we’ve lost that. We both jumped in feet first and now life seems to be catching up even faster—the constant push and pull in every direction is getting old. Everyone wants something, and she wants the most. It’s like she doesn’t understand the sacrifices that I’ve made. It’s not easy being the world’s biggest pop star and falling in love, but I felt she was worth it at the time.

And now she wants more—Roots that I can’t seem to give her. It’s like I’ve only just begun to find my own footing, stepping into the skin that finally feels right, that’s mine, and she wants nothing to do with it—She wants the control. She wants me to align with whatever she thinks our life should be.

I mean, I get it. I understand wanting the security of always knowing your next move or having a better grasp, but surely Olivia knew what she was getting herself into. It can’t be this big surprise that our life together isn’t panning out into what she had imagined, and the shittest part about it is that I don’t even want to try anymore. I don’t want the things that Olivia is trying to project onto me with every fight that ends with her begging me to choose her—is that not what I’ve been doing this whole time?

I’m lost in thought when Olivia whispers something into my ear. She had gone on and on about this Gucci Cruise show and was pissed when I decided I didn’t want to sit front row. I didn’t want to distract from the show or draw unwanted attention. Especially after that fight—God, that stupid fucking fight that left her in tears, her makeup a wet smear all over her face, almost making us late. 

Tonight was supposed to be memorable. How many people get the chance to attend a Gucci show? This was my first. It’s an honor that I wanted to appreciate and take in with the gratitude I feel not only for the brand but also for the friends I’ve grown quite close to.

“I just feel like the whole point of coming to a fashion show is to sit in with the audience and have a genuine experience of the clothes and the people—” Her comment is pointed and sets me off, so I do the asshole thing and walk toward someone I know leaving her alone with her underhanded comment.

Eventually, I walk over to the edge of the curtain, peering out into the crowd, trying to pinpoint faces I’ll see later, making a list of people I want to see or possibly avoid. As I skim the front row, my eyes land on a woman who looks vaguely familiar. Still, I can’t put a finger on it. She sticks out like a sore thumb. For instance, she is one of the few wearing dark sunglasses in a dimly lit room. Making her stand out in all black, except for the few accents that set her apart from everyone else around her, who are dripping with vibrant colors, something you would expect at a Gucci show—wild statement pieces, different patterns, and textures that ebb and flow amongst each other.

She was magnetic in a way that made it hard for me to look away. The light played off her features, creating a soft aura. A delicate ray of pink traced a faint glow around her. I couldn’t tell if it was an illusion or a trick of the mind in my rose-colored glasses. When I lowered my frames to get a clearer view, I found that she was just as stunning without them—and still, to this day, I can’t explain the feeling; it was like my soul took the lead, reaching out, hoping to find a tether. A single piece of thread that could tie me to her.

And there I stood, my mind spinning out of control. I don’t even know how long I stood there. How long I continued watching her, captivated by how the light which seemed to dance with the shadows every time a model passed in front of her. Another thing I noticed was her ruby-red lip. How they spread into a shy smile, the light catching the gleam of her white teeth—a sight I imagined could be seen from anywhere in the room if you were fortunate enough to catch it. I observed her as she straightened upright and crossed her legs, almost as if she had suddenly become aware of her surroundings. Was she nervous? 

Her hair was slicked back into a sleek bun, tight against her scalp, making her features more pronounced and giving her a tidier appearance than everyone else. This timeless look could set anyone apart from the crowd, but what really caught my eye was the gilded chain dress that hugged her all-black attire underneath. I wanted to see her stand up. I wanted to know how the light played off the delicate beads draped from the woven metal. I wondered if it was uncomfortable for her or if she realized she stood out more than the celebrities around her. She had to be someone important, right? Not just anyone can sit front row at a Gucci show—Who is she?

As if she sensed my gaze, her head abruptly turned toward the curtains, causing me to jump back and bump into Olivia. “What the hell?” I hissed. 

Olivia stepped back, eyes wide, my words landing with a bite. I thought, “fuck is she about to make a scene?”—and yes, the bitterness was unnecessary, but it came more from defense than anger. I didn’t want to be found out. What was I doing anyway? How long had she been standing there? Could she see what I was looking at? Or could I pretend that I was trying to get a better view of the show, which was technically true, right?

“Can we please start over tonight?” she asks, almost pleading. “I know tonight is special for you.” Olivia runs her hands up my chest and cups my face.

“Okay…” I exhale. I want to have a good time, but a part of me knows I would enjoy myself more without her here, and it’s this very feeling that will haunt me all night, my thoughts like demons filling the room—unwanted guests that I’m no longer sure I want to keep at bay, and I know this isn’t fair. 

I couldn’t tell if it was the afterparty or the drinks that came with it, but eventually, the mind fog that plagued me throughout the evening began to lift. It was like a breath of fresh air, each drink diluting the pressure; the animosity threaded into every conversation Olivia and I had was evaporating. I could let go of the stress and relax into the theme of the night—and that was to have fun and fucking enjoy myself because I work hard, dammit.

It was getting easier to play into Olivia’s game of putting on for the coward. This was the part she liked; she loved putting on in a room full of people. She fucking thrived on the attention—she loved wearing me like a glove she could take on and off whenever she pleased. 

I was already three drinks in when I spotted my “mystery girl.” It surprised me—she was much shorter than I had imagined, but something was compelling about her presence. When she finally looked my way, I instinctively put my arm around Olivia, feeding into the lie, feeling like a fool when her eyes flitted over me with no recognition, piercing my ego in one swift look. I didn’t know what I thought would happen…actually, I’ll tell you exactly what I thought would happen. I thought my presence alone would be enough to garner her attention. Instead, I stood there stunned when her eyes lingered on Olivia, sending her a friendly smile as she mouthed the words, “I love your dress.” pulling at the strap of her dress to drive her compliment home.

Astonished, I stood by, holding my breath as the transaction morphed into Olivia mouthing a returned compliment, making ‘Mystery Girl’ beam and my chest swell with jealousy as she turned away, not even sparing me a second glance. She moved through the room effortlessly, like a hummingbird, moving from flower to flower fast yet graceful, donning that beautiful smile that had me begging her to look my way—just one more time. That’s all I would need. 

Was she a journalist? It seemed like everyone knew who she was. She spoke to everyone she encountered with such ease that each conversation I noticed flowed as if they were friends—though perhaps they were, but how was I to know? At some point, I lost her in the night, or maybe I knew I had to release her from my thoughts. I wanted to end the night on a high note, not go home with a suspecting partner to whom I would have to explain myself later. 

So, by drink five, I was being pulled onto the stage with Stevie, duetting a few songs, and as I closed my eyes, singing out the lines:

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above? 

Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

I opened my eyes as we swayed into the chorus, browsing the crowd. My gaze locked with Olivia’s, who was crying, tears streaming down her face, a pained look of grief stealing her features. We shared a look of understanding. Maybe even realization, but it hit me hard, the sadness creeping up my spine as she turned and moved away from the crowd, and I noticed her bump into Alessandro, who caught her by the arm with a concerned look on his face. I pulled away from the microphone, my voice choking up, and I let Stevie take over. We both knew that our world was crumbling right before our eyes and when I glanced back over, searching for Olivia, she was gone. 

A/N: Ya'll let me know in the comments what you think. I'd love to get your feedback. If you think I should continue?? Hope you guys enjoyed!

[yoshi17here]

̤̮ ₊˚ ⋅ᡣ𐭩ʚGrateful Hearts & Thanksgiving Startsɞ̤̮•‧₊˚ ⋅♡

YOSHIˎˊ˗: OMG I wrote so!!!!! much hope you guys like ittt!!

word count: 1130

paring:non idol jake x non idol y/n

---___ •ᴗ• ___--- •ᴗ• ---___ •ᴗ• ___--- •ᴗ• ---___ •ᴗ•___--- •ᴗ• ---___

I could feel my heart racing in my chest as I stood in front of Jake’s house, the crisp autumn air brushing against my cheeks. The leaves were turning shades of gold and red, a perfect fall day to be surrounded by family. Jake had been talking about introducing me to his parents for a while, but this was different—it was Thanksgiving dinner.

The pressure of meeting his family felt heavier than usual. Thanksgiving was one of those holidays that meant a lot to people. It was about family, warmth, and gratitude, and I couldn't help but feel a little nervous. Would they like me? What if I didn't fit in?

Jake squeezed my hand, his comforting touch grounding me in the moment. He could probably feel my nervousness, and with that signature smile of his, he reassured me, "Don’t worry, Y/N. My parents are going to love you. Plus, I’ve been telling them so much about you. They’re already excited to meet you.”

I took a deep breath and nodded, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. I trusted Jake completely—after all, we'd been dating for a few months now, and it was clear that we had something real. But the thought of meeting his parents... that was something else entirely.

Before I could overthink it, Jake opened the door, and the warm, delicious scent of Thanksgiving dinner wafted out. “Mom, Dad, we’re here!” he called out with that carefree energy of his.

His mom, a kind woman with soft features and a welcoming smile, appeared from the kitchen. She was wearing a cozy sweater, and her hands were covered in flour from what looked like baking. Jake's dad followed close behind—tall, with a warm and serious demeanor, but I could see the gentle spark of affection in his eyes as he looked at Jake.

“Y/N!” Jake’s mom exclaimed, immediately pulling me into a tight hug. I froze for a second, unsure of what to do, but then I relaxed into the embrace. Her hug was as warm as the house, and the scent of cinnamon and rosemary made everything feel homely.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she said with a bright smile. “Jake’s told us so much about you!”

“I’ve heard so much about you too,” I said, my voice a little shakier than I intended. “Thank you for having me over.”

“No need to thank us, dear,” she said, pulling back but still holding onto my shoulders with affection. “We’re so happy Jake found someone so kind and wonderful.”

“Mom,” Jake groaned from behind me, but there was no mistaking the grin on his face. “You’re embarrassing me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s okay, Jake. Your mom’s really sweet.”

Jake’s dad, who had been standing a little behind with his arms crossed, finally spoke up. “Welcome, Y/N. It’s good to meet you.”

His voice was deep and calm, and I could sense the respect he had for me already. There was no judgment, just a quiet warmth. I smiled, a little nervous but trying to keep my composure. “Thank you for inviting me. I’m really excited to be here.”

Jake’s dad nodded and smiled slightly. “We’re glad you could join us. Dinner will be ready soon. Feel free to make yourself at home.”

With that, Jake led me inside, and we were immediately surrounded by the comfort of family. The dining room table was beautifully set, with plates of mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, turkey, and a dozen other dishes that made my stomach rumble.

“Go ahead and sit down,” Jake said, pulling out a chair for me. “I’ll get the drinks.”

I sat down, feeling both nervous and excited, as his parents finished putting the last touches on the table. Jake returned with a bottle of sparkling cider and began pouring drinks for everyone.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Jake’s dad said again as he sat down at the head of the table. “Jake’s been happy ever since he started dating you.”

Jake’s mom added with a wink, “We could tell he was in love the moment he started talking about you nonstop.”

I felt my cheeks flush. Jake glanced at me, his eyes sparkling with affection, before he quickly reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “I love you,” he murmured under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear.

“I love you too,” I whispered back, smiling.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur of laughter, stories, and delicious food. Jake’s parents were easy to talk to, and I found myself relaxing more and more as the night went on. His mom shared funny stories of Jake’s childhood, and his dad chimed in with his own memories of their family trips. I could tell that family meant everything to them—and I was starting to see just how much Jake was a reflection of them: kind, thoughtful, and filled with love.

After dessert, which was a homemade pumpkin pie that tasted like heaven, Jake stood up. “Alright, we’ve got one more thing to do. Y/N, you ready?”

I looked up at him curiously. “What’s going on?”

He grinned mischievously. “We’re going to play a game! A family tradition.”

I laughed nervously. “Okay, I’m game.”

Jake’s mom brought out a box of cards and began setting them up. “It’s called ‘Thanksgiving Trivia.’ We go around the table, ask questions, and everyone has to answer. Whoever gets the most right wins.”

“I’ll warn you now,” Jake’s dad said with a knowing smile, “Jake’s unbeatable at this game. Don’t let him intimidate you.”

Jake smirked proudly. “I’ve got a good memory, that’s all.”

We played for hours, and in the end, Jake did win—but only by a few points. We were all laughing by the time the game was over, and as the evening wound down, I realized that I had felt so comfortable with Jake’s family. They weren’t intimidating at all. In fact, they made me feel like I had always been part of the family.

As we left their house, Jake slipped his hand into mine. “See? That wasn’t so bad, right?”

I smiled up at him, my heart full. “It was amazing. Your family is wonderful.”

Jake grinned, pulling me into a quick kiss. “I’m glad you like them. Because you’re stuck with us now.”

I laughed, feeling a rush of happiness. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And as we walked to the car, the autumn breeze carrying the scent of fallen leaves, I knew that this Thanksgiving was one I’d never forget. The warmth of Jake’s family, the love we shared, and the comfort of being surrounded by people who cared—it was the perfect start to a new chapter in our lives together.

[enruiinas]

On the other side of the silence that followed, there lay a future he’d never imagined for himself. An entire life, chaotic and unpredictable as things could only be between two souls so wildly, unanticipatedly perfect for one another, that Law had not even known he’d wanted until the first time he’d found himself tangled up with the woman before him - both metaphorically and in the very literal sense of the word, as not until he’d fallen asleep holding her had it occurred to him he might just like to do that forever.

Nami had blown into his life that summer like a whirlwind, and just as Law had realized how badly he’d longed to keep her there, she had stolen those dreams away from him. Dangled that impossible future on a string with five simple words before him - I think I love you -, only to take them back and vanish with it as quickly as she’d enamored him.

Now here she stood before him again, holding on her tongue the means to grant him everything he was terrified of wanting or to break that something inside of him a second time, and if Law had any doubt about his own feelings for the ginger, they vanished as he awaited her answer. There was only one reason in the world he’d ever give another the means of shattering him so thoroughly as he had given her with that quiet plea. One thing in the world that could leave him hanging so eagerly on the edge of someone's silence, everything but the pulse in his ears ceasing to exist as he looked at her and waited for the words he'd so desperately craved in her soft cadence -

He loved her. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her. And he was so sure that she must feel the same- and yet… Nami’s disappearance had left him far too scarred to make that mistake a second time. He needed to hear it - needed her to hear her say it a second time, to say it and be sure and not just simply think that she might.

Some part of him knew that she felt the same. Even when Nami had not, he had always known - on some level - that she must love him. But to hear her say it a second time…

Golden eyes strayed only briefly to follow their hands to where she placed them on her stomach, but he made no more move to pull away from her. He simply threaded his fingers through her and returned his gaze to Nami’s face, just in time to watch chestnut orbs well up with tears and to lean into Nami’s touch as she reached up to trail soft fingers along his jawline.

And then she said it the second time - I love you. I love you. I love you. - and it was everything he’d ever hoped for: forgotten water, threatening tears, and the unexpected life growing beneath his palm aside. He wouldn’t change anything it had taken to bring them here, to this moment- so long as it had led to this.

It was perfect. She was perfect- and the words had barely left her lips before his found themselves brushing against them. “I love you,” he echoed back in a whisper. “All of you,” he went on. “This-“

Voice trailing off, Law held her stare pointedly before returning it to where his hand lay cradled on the curve of her stomach. A hand he now looked down to watch as he traced it thoughtfully along the swell of the growing bump she held it to.

“-included. I’m glad you’re here now, Nami. Both of you. I missed you,” he concluded - and then pulled her firmly against him, kissing her once more like a man with no intention of watching a movie afterward.

‎‏‏‎ Every second that passed by had Nami's heartbeat pounding harder in her ears. At some point in her life the words I love you must have slipped past her lips. She had to have been little, too little to fully comprehend the weight of such words as she wrapped her arms around her two favorite people and called out with childlike wonderment that she loved them. Those memories were long gone, replaced with a misunderstanding that love could only be associated with loss. It's why not once in the last thirteen years had Nami uttered the words to even her sister.

Nojiko knew. She understood. They didn't say words like that, but they knew they loved each other. Both women showed it in other ways- with a glance, through acts of service, by screaming at each other- Sisters were special. Nojiko was special. It's why no need to state it out loud was never needed- But Law was special too- And he deserved to hear that she didn't just think her feelings for him were beyond that of a simple summer romance.

Law needed to know, whether he realized it or not. He needed to know that she loved him so wholly and completely. And as much as it pained her to watch him draw away from her, it was the light that returned to those golden eyes that kept her going. He loved her too, she knew it. Just as before, she'd felt his love pour through every brush of her skin and movement against her lips.

She loved him. And he loved her.

“I've never been so sure of anything in my life.” A beat. A breath. A bat of long lashes closed and re-opened to return her chestnut orbs to his. “If anything this-”

Reaching around, she grasped one of his hands to press to the swell of her stomach. '-Kept me from saying it far longer than I should have. I didn't want you to think I'm only here for this.”

Big, brown eyes swam with tears that threatened to spill over the brim and onto long bottom lashes. “I couldn't be away from you another second- I was scared, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still afraid… but I'm no longer afraid to love you.”

Her own hand reached for his face, to cup his strong jaw and run through thick sideburns. A single droplet caught on lashes as she choked out the words a second time. “I've never said that to anyone, but I'm saying it to you- I love you.“

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

TW: Sexual Intercourse, TW: Rough sex, TW: Dirty talk/mild degradation, TW: Tight fit, TW: Choking, TW: Biting, TW: Brief mention of Breeding, TW: Brief mention of Blood, Dominant Ghost, Vocal Ghost, Submissive Reader, Belly Bulge, Overstimulation, Affectionate Ghost, Happy tears

It’s cuffing season~

And all the girls be needing~

A big boy. I need a big boy, I want a big boy~~~

Previously, on Ghost Laying Pipe,...

“Look,” Ghost panted, slowly thrusting between the flesh of your thighs. “I know you said you liked it rough. But I won't lie. I can be a bit more than just rough. I don't hold back and it takes an act of God to make me stop once I get started. You sure you can really handle that? I’m not the best at being gentle, but I can promise to try my best if it's too much.”

“Ghost, I’ve never been more sure in my entire life,” you moaned, moving with him. “Please.”

Ghost chuckled, the sound low and husky as he lined himself up at your entrance. “Well then. You might want to hold onto something.”

And now, on Ghost Laying Pipe,...

---------------------

Reader POV:

You were already so far gone. Your first orgasm had left you dazed and your body was still tingling from the sweet release. But though your mind was heavily clouded by the swarm of endorphins, you managed react. You reached out and gripped the metal bar of the headboard to brace yourself. And you were immediately glad that you did.

Ghost slowly started to advance, the head of his cock parting your glistening folds like a hand entering a glove. Well, a very tight glove. The fullness of his head hadn't even pushed into you fully when you gripped the headboard tight with a loud whine.

Inhalation. Exhalation. That was all you heard around you, your own frantic gasps of air combining with his sharp intakes of breath. Ghost wasn't rushing this first push, knowing full well it would hurt even more if he did. So he gritted his teeth, trying hard to take his time and ease his girth into your opening with tremorous restraint.

"That's it," he purred, his voice rumbling through his chest. He gripped the curve of your hips to steady you as your legs began to shake. "Easy, princess. You can take me."

You whimpered, the sound hitting his ears like music. But you didn't speak. You couldn't. All you were able to do was clutch the metal bar, mouth hanging open in a wanton expression of awe as he gradually crammed himself into you.

Suddenly, you felt him go still. You still hadn't felt the distinctive snap of his tip sliding past your entrance. So you assumed he was backing out, bracing to push back in again in an effort to gradually stretch you out. In truth, that was his initial intention. But though his girth was thick, his body's patience was leaning more towards the opposite extreme. With a controlled roll of his hips, Ghost jerked forward and pushed his head past the ring of muscle that held him at bay.

"Ah!" Your body rocked with the movement, the sudden taste of fullness stretching your walls to their limit in an instant. "G-ghost!"

This time, it was his turn to have no words. A low groan of bliss sounded from behind you as your walls closed in around him. There was still a lot of him left to follow, but just that small sample made him shudder in anticipation.

"Bloody… hell," he heaved, allowing himself a series of shallow thrusts. "I knew you were tight but- Oh, fuck me. Fuck!"

The movement gave him a rush of needed friction over his sensitive head. But it also served to gently ease your walls into a more relaxed, accepting state. He was working you open, trying to prepare your body for what would soon follow. And after a few seconds of acclimation, he tightened his hold on you and slowly continued his advance.

Your hand was trembling now. The other quickly moved to mirror its twin's grasp on the headboard as you tried to will your core into submission. But no amount of mental fortitude could handle the feeling of his length splitting you apart.

"Can't!" You gasped with a shuddered sob, back arching to escape the increasing tightness expanding into your stomach. "It's too much!"

"Breathe with me, princess," Ghost strained the words out past another deep moan. "Just a little more. You can take me. You can take me."

He repeated his last phrase in breathy gasps, almost like he was trying to convince himself of the same. The pressure on his length was excruciating in the best of ways. But despite the initial reluctance of your core, he could feel you slowly stretching to accommodate him. Every ridge and fold of your entrance stimulated him as they made way for his presence. It was gradual, but it was happening. Your depths were swallowing him whole and it felt so incredible it was nearly mind-numbing. But he knew continuing at such a gentle pace would only draw out the discomfort for you. What you needed was this initial moment over and done with, ripped off like a band-aid.

"I've got you," Ghost murmured, slipping a precautionary hand over your mouth. "Deep breath for me, princess."

When he felt you breathe in, he followed it with a sharp inhale of his own before snapping his hips forward into yours. You let out a muffled scream as he buried his length into you in one fluid motion, a deep shudder coursing through your body in violent waves. Suddenly, you could feel all of him. Every vein, every throb, every twitch. The head of his cock tucked firmly against your cervix, an internal barrier you knew he would soon batter relentlessly.

Ghost joined you in your reaction, cursing through his teeth in a sharp hiss. Once your choked sounds of shock and pleasure had died down a bit, he removed his hand from your mouth to let them fly free. A chorus of gasps, moans, and heated whispers of lust filled the room as both of you savored the tight fit.

"Jesus Christ, princess. You're gonna be fucking ruined when I'm done with you."

You panted beneath him, your grip on the headboard faltering as you collapsed to the mattress below. Every muscle in your body had turned to mush, your mind unable to will them into motion again. All it could process was just how completely he filled you. How his size made your stomach bulge outward. And how your body urgently needed more.

"Ghost, I-"

"Simon," he growled, quickly removing his mask before readjusting his hold. "Call me Simon."

"Simon," you breathed. "More."

A low chuckle rumbled through him, the vibrations dancing alone your spine. "You want more, princess? I'll give you some more."

Without warning, he reared back and impaled you again. There was no more waiting. No more patience. No more tenderness. He repeated the motion, grunting with each impact as he found his pace. It was raw, it was primal. It was nothing but pure expression of a desperate need too long contained.

Every thrust came with the resounding clap of his thighs against your ass, your body quaking in response. His fingers dug into your hips, almost clawing for purchase. Any grip he could find, he used to yank you back to meet each brutal re-entry.

"Is this what you wanted? Huh? To make me fucking lose it and fuck your brains out?"

You moaned, the sound coming out shrill and breathy. There were no words to say. There was only the feeling of him pounding into you like there was no tomorrow. And God, you hoped tomorrow would never come.

"You tempted me. You haunted me. You made me wait. But you asked for this. And now that you're in my house, in my bed? You're mine now. I don't care where you are or what you're doing. I will drag your ass back here so fast it'll make your head spin. Make you take my cock again. And again! And again!" He punctuated his words with a series of particularly harsh thrusts that sent you jolting forward from the force. "I could spend the rest of my life claiming you. Breeding you. Filling you up to the brim. And I just might. So, be a good girl and let me destroy you like you've always craved."

Ghost was rambling and he knew it, but he didn't care. He couldn't stop. Every sordid thought and fantasy that had crossed his mind since the day you arrived on base just came pouring out of his mouth. And now that he no longer had to confine them, they couldn't be held inside any longer. He wanted you to hear his darkest dreams of you. He wanted you to feel the burning heat that coursed through him with each stolen glance. The true depths of his desire, of his need, and of his love. He needed you to know just how badly he craved you.

"Simon-Fuck! Oh my god, Simon!"

You couldn’t will any other words out of your mouth. But you didn't need to. He didn't need to hear perfectly formed phrases to describe the intricacies of how much you needed him too. Those words were enough for him. Every gasp and moan was enough to convey what he longed to hear. What he knew to be true.

Like putty in his hands, you were helpless in a trance of bliss when he took full control. With one hand gripping your shoulder and the other maintaining a firm grip on your waist, he lifted you off the bed entirely like you weighed nothing at all. And with his newfound leverage, he moved your whole body with his vicious rhythm without skipping a beat.

"You like this?" Ghost growled, digging his nails into your side. "Me using you as my own personal fleshlight? My pretty little cocksleeve?"

"Yes!" You whimpered, your breath hitching with each thrust. "Don't stop."

"I bet you'll like this more," he chuckled, grabbing your throat and forcing your head back against his shoulder. "I haven't forgotten what you like. What you need."

"Oh my god," you wailed, melting as he squeezed your neck in a crushing grip. There was still enough freedom to breathe, but the surge of dominance still took your breath away.

You could feel yourself beginning to fall apart. A level of urgency tinged your voice as you cried out for him to make you his. And he did not disappoint. Ghost’s stamina was ungodly, his pace never faltering from the start. He rammed the girth length of his cock into you just as rough and deep as before. And the pleasure you felt, the fulfillment that rushed through you? It was stronger than anything you'd ever felt in your life. Your back was arched at a near painful angle, body contorted around his hulking form like an accessory.

With one hand, you cradled his cheek. You turned his face towards yours, eyes of twin flames locking in heated passion. The words didn't need to be spoken aloud, but you spoke them anyway. Your heart felt like it would burst in your chest if you didn't.

"I love you," you panted, breath shaky as you felt your climax drawing near.

"I love you, too," he rasped, his eyes half-lidded and rolling back in his head as his own release crept closer. "More than life itself."

He knew you were close. Every shiver of your body in his arms made it crystal clear. So, he offered you just enough added pleasure to tear your grip from the ledge. As his fingertips fondled your clit, he growled and sank his teeth into your shoulder. You cried out, but he didn't let go. He bit hard, so hard he'd leave a mark. A symbol of who you belonged to. Who held the key to your wildest pleasures. He probably drew blood. But what did it matter? What were a few drops of blood in exchange for a lifetime of pleasure?

"Simon!" you mewled, clutching his shoulder. The physical world was starting to melt away from your senses as your core twitched around him. Every other sound faded to the background. All that remained were your shrill cries, his depraved whispers hot in your ear, and the filthy sounds of his cock slamming into your dripping sex with urgency. Your mind wasn't nearly clear enough to decipher his words. But moments later you did hear his breath catch on the jagged edge of his own climax, his low tones morphing into a guttural roar of satisfaction. Ghost cursed loudly, clutching your writhing form against him as he erupted within you. He continued rolling his hips as he spilled his seed, almost as if to force his release into every available space. As if to ensure every inch of your depths would be marked with his claim.

There was the sound of heavy panting and labored breath in your ear. It was hard to tell if it was you or Ghost, perhaps both. But you were too far gone to make sense of anything except how you felt in that moment. Overwhelmed. Cock drunk. Satisfied. Fulfilled.

Happy.

You felt happy. Truly happy. And it felt like it had been ages since you experienced that emotion so intensely. Even if you had, nothing could compare to this. Nothing could ever hope to come close. This was the mountain top moment, right here and right now.

"Oh, princess," Ghost shushed you, frantically stroking your shoulders as he set you back down. "Was it too much? Did I hurt you? Please don't cry. I-I’m so sorry."

You were crying? His hand skimmed over your cheeks. It wasn't until he began wiping the tears away that your skin registered the moist sensation. But just having the awareness that tears had fallen did nothing to stop their flow.

"No, I'm okay," you sniffled, shakily wiping your eyes. "I'm okay. I'm just... I'm just so happy. You don't know how much I've wanted this. Needed this. Needed you . It's been so long since someone touched me at all. And I just... I love you so much."

Ghost breathed a sigh of relief, carefully backing out of you before pulling you to his chest. "Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. And the feeling's mutual."

"Never let me go," you whimpered, a fresh wave of tears cresting with the words. "Please, never let me go."

"I'm not going anywhere, princess," he whispered back, holding you tight. "And that's a promise."

[itsa-me-lily]

This was something cute that I wanted to write before but instead wrote Nine Inches.

Here is the MPS AU masterlist

Self care came in many forms. Sometimes it was a little treat in the form of a new craft kit you wanted to try. Sometimes it was going to an extra group class at the local dance studio. And sometimes it was a Spa Day. A day to just indulge in doing everything that made you feel good in your skin and peaceful in your mind. After the scare with Jiji and Tombo, you deserved a little relaxation. Plus with the weekend, and Simon being out with his team doing something, it meant the house was all yours.

So after sleeping in later than you typically did you had indulged in an everything shower. You used the fancy body scrub that smelt of chocolate and strawberries before taking the time to shave your legs, even going through the effort to go above the knee. You had just changed the sheets on the pull out to a softer silken set and you knew brushing your freshly shaven legs against them at night was going to feel divine. One deep conditioning later left your hair feeling softer.

Honestly overall you just felt a little softer as you exited the steaming bathroom, leisurely taking the handful of steps to the bedroom instead of the typical dash to avoid flashing your marital roommate. You hummed along to your playlist as you grabbed the first shirt out of a a half opened drawer, not really paying attention to who's draw it was. The shirt was soft from supposed years of use and big enough that when you put it on it could just cover your butt. And with your most comfortable set of underwear, the Spa Day attire was complete. Simon always messaged before coming back anyways, you figured you had time to throw on pants if needed.

The next step was provisions. For the guinea pigs you cut up a cucumber, thankful that Baker was still young enough that he could still be taught that vegetables were good for him. Saving yourself a few slices for an eye mask you make a spread of cheese and deli meats, glad you saved your favorite olives for this charcuterie experience.

You had just given the boys their snack, and was debating on if you wanted a pore extraction mask or a hydrating one you had picked up the last time you had gone to the pharmacy, when the front lock clicked and the door swung open.

Thankfully it wasn't someone making a poor attempt to break into your home, because really the front door in broad daylight? Unfortunately it was one Simon Riley, who you were not expecting. The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, Simon standing stock still filling up the doorway, while you were standing by the cough, hunched over like you were Gollum. Both of your brains seemed to need time to process what you were seeing.

"You're home early."

"You're not wearing pants."

"Who's not wearing pants?"

To your horror you saw a mohawked head pop over Simon's shoulder, seeking the answer to his own question. A squeak from you had Simon palming the Scot's face, keeping him from seeing your pantless form.

"No one Soap."

You took the opening that Simon gave you, scrambling to the bedroom and slamming the door shut.

Simon didn't plan on mentioning the fact that you were wearing his shirt, or that he was going to be thinking about the fact you were wearing his shirt. He wasn't going to mention how seeing the name Riley printed across your shoulders had intrigued some caveman part of his brain. Nope he wasn't going to mention it. Just like how he wasn't going to let you stick some black goop to his forehead.

Once you had come back from the bedroom, this time wearing pants, you had insisted on letting him, Gaz, and Soap stay for your 'spa day'. Or well, the other two had essentially invited themselves in, and you were nice enough to let them all stay. For a price of course. It came in the form of you torturing them via tweezers and face masks.

Simon had seen Soap brush off medics when he had a gotten a cut to the bicep, a nasty farewell gift from trouble in the gulf. The Scotsman had taken hits to the face and walked off like they were nothing. And yet the dulcet tones of Soap whining that you were pulling every eyebrow hair from his face graced Simon's ears. Served him right for being self imposing.

Gaz, the pretty boy, apparently had perfect eyebrows already, seeing as you had decided to try out some clay mask you had stashed away on him. Given how it looked drying on him, Simon wasn't sure if it was the better deal or not. With chucklehead one and two beautified, it had just left Simon as your last victim. And you wanted to put goop on his forehead.

Honestly Simon had hoped that his surgical mask would deter you, since it covered most of his face. He should have gone with a balaclava because you had declared that you could simply use your 'pore cleanser' on his forehead. Not if he had a say. He'd seen you use it before, smearing a black stripe across your nose and chin, only to pull it off later in what looked like a truly painful manner. He may have been a glutton for punishment at times, but Simon wasn't an idiot.

Which was why the battle of wills ended with you putting the stupid goop on his forehead. He tried not to focus on how the goop felt cold as you spread it with a tiny spatula thing, or how you'd lightly scold him for how he'd wrinkle his forehead, like he could help it.

Instead he kept his focus on the lower portion of your face, the way your jaw and chin formed a soft semicircle. How deeply the laugh lines were etched in when you smiled at something Gaz did with the boys. It looked like you were biting your lips again, the skin of the lower one slightly torn.

He wondered if they'd feel rough if he-

"Hey Lt, these cokes good to have?"

Simon tore his gaze away from your mouth, cutting to over your shoulder to look at Soap who was inviting himself to your fridge. As if he hadn't already partaken in the spread you had made yourself. He couldn't tell if he was more annoyed with the way he invited himself to things or the interruption.

"Leave the ones with black caps. They're for Thimble."

You paused the painting of his forehead, leaning back to look at his face better.

"Who the hell is Thimble and why are they getting my cokes?"

Simon couldn't help the dry huff at how affronted you sounded at the hypothetical loss of your sodas.

"No one's getting your cokes. You're Thimble."

Simon couldn't see the other two, but he could just imagine the looks he was getting. It didn't have to mean anything that he gave his own wife a call sign. Honestly he felt like getting you jewelry would have meant more.

"Do I have a say in the nickname?"

You didn't sound angry about it, more curious. He shrugged, eyes meeting yours through his lashes.

"Most don't. They just happen."

"Well at least that explains Soap."

"Plus yours is better anyways."

Simon couldn't help but smile at the indignant squawk that came from the kitchen. Again, it's what the lout got for being imposing.

"Guess I can't complain too much then."

Your matching smile made the corner of your eyes crinkle. Was that suppose to be as endearing as he found it?

"Good. Rather like Thimble."

Before you could reply, Gaz was chiming in, the fucker startling the two of you back from where you had drifted closer. When had you drifted closer?

"Um...is this stuff supposed to burn?"

You were gone in an instance, saying something about a possible reaction and needing to wash Gaz's face. Simon was left to watch as you walked away from him, his last name still printed against your back and the scent of strawberries in his nose.

Edit;

Playing DA with my bestie as I write this. If we got cockblocked by a whisp Gaz can have a possible allergic reaction.

Here is the Simon & Thimble Playlist

[flaskoflethe]

Well Smile's out, listening to it now (in mostly reverse order xD). World's was genuinely one of the most impactful albums for me, Shelter and Everything Goes On (literally the best thing Riot's been involved in musically imo) are incredible singles, Nurture may not be my usual thing but still love it, and his early electrohouse fuckboy era stuff was the wrong place to get into Complextro from (because fuck, he and Skrillex literally defined the genre!). This album?

I really, really wish I liked it. His musicality's there, the soundscapes are soaring and powerful... But the tracks sound like they're from the pop response to like, panic at the disco or the killers :/ not BAD, just definitely not my thing. Which is good, it's awesome to see musicians making stuff they enjoy and want to make! Maybe it's the contrast to how impactful his previous work has been?

His early work, which I'm defining as pre-Worlds (with Easy as a sort of transitional boundary piece), has an impact even today in EDM. Complextro, and large chunks of modern electrohouse, are in many ways descended from his sound (and Skrillex, but like they were in association with each other! Porter literally toured with Skrillex as an opening act!). It's not all my sound, but it's so utterly HIM. Same with Worlds, and Virtual Self, and Nurture! They're all pushing against something, musically. It's incredibly engaging, even where you can see the influences or style's he's drawing inspiration from they're being integrated into something he wants it to be.

Smile, is fine? Like I'm willing to bet this album will have people who adore it, and there's pieces of it that are so good. Year of the Cup has a background layer that sounds like he's playing a riff based on Trying to Feel Alive, and it works SO well! And there's bits like that everywhere, it really works. But it feels like it wanted to be a screamo/emo pop-punk album lyrically and tonally, and doesn't satisfy the same ways other works of his have for me.

[ineed-to-sleep]

*me immediately after going through a terrifying and traumatic experience* haha yeah I guess it was rough but I'm fine now like I'm totally chill. It was kinda funny actually if you think about it

[thanatos-nightshade]

Im so sorry i played Our Life: beginnings and always and not only has it sucker punched me with bittersweet feelings of life and change and relationships but its also thrown me into brain rot hell of it. Im sorry if ocean boy cove floods your feed get it? Its a pun

[umbravirtus]

Hans chuckled softly at Anna’s playful slip of the tongue, his expression lightening with amusement. “No problem, Bob—er, I mean Anna,” he teased gently, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, though there was still a sincerity behind his words.

He gave her an encouraging smile, his tone softer now. “I appreciate that, Anna. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect from this conversation, but I’m glad we’ve been able to find some ground to stand on. You’re right—it’s a start, and maybe that’s all we need right now.”

He stood up as she did, offering a small bow in response to her mention of dinner. “Dinner sounds… good. Near Oaken’s, you say? I’ll be there, whenever you’re ready.”

As she took his hand, Hans felt a warmth spread through him, more genuine than anything he’d felt in a long time. When she squeezed it, he squeezed back, feeling a sense of peace in the simple connection.

Unbeknownst to him, his thoughts about the townspeople echoed hers. He already felt somewhat accepted—it was a good sign. One step at a time, for everything, he supposed. He realized there was a comfortable silence between them. His instinct was to break it, but he paused for a moment and then added, “And, Anna… thank you. For giving me this chance. It means more than you know.” More than he could say.

He watched her walk off, her figure receding in the distance, and for the first time in a long while, Hans felt a sense of hope—a flicker of something better ahead.

A few days passed in much the same rhythm: Hans worked as hard as he could, and when it was time to sleep, he headed toward the accommodations with the other workers. He’d seen Anna a few times, but for the most part, they were like ships passing in the night. Occasionally they worked together briefly, but Anna was often called away—whether as Queen, the strongest among them, or even to handle matters that required Hans’ woodworking skills and quick thinking.

Hans was finally making friends, seen as an equal, which was new for him. He was teasing more, playing more, and smiling more.

This particular evening, as he wiped the sweat from his brow, and everyone delighted in the fact that another building was completed and steady progress had been made, he spotted Anna and saw his opportunity to approach her.

“So… is that offer for dinner near Oaken’s still on the table?” he asked, curious. “If you’re too busy today, that’s fine, of course.”

Anna winced as she heard the other almost let out a pained sound despite being so good natured about it, and she had to give a weak crooked grin of 'I'm sorry' that was written all over her freckled face.

Yeah, it was still hard getting used to being so careful about her strength, especially when she tended to not think before acting. Elsa had always told her that there are times that Anna would be very reckless when it comes to her strength, particularly when Anna would have a rare temper when it came to her older sister. An example of this was when Elsa was still in ruling for that one year of being Queen, during one delegate meeting of someone giving a side comment about Elsa's powers and her capabilities of being a ruler...

Well, that day Anna had broken a very old and very rare Arendelle mahogany table in two...

At the comment of being tough, she huffed, "Darn right I am! I mean...well, I gotta be..."

And then the words...about Hans' family.

Indeed, she did remember back then that he would talk about his twelve older brothers, and the many times they would be sorta, kinda, mean to him (these were those that were around his age), and Anna had lamented about Elsa....

Thinking back now, it sounded like she was indeed an immature whining brat, and that thought made Anna wince a bit.

And then the hug came and Anna's brain broke for a second. It was like a scratch of the musical record player that Elsa plays sometimes during their game nights, making the red head almost stiffen.

Anna took a moment to gather her thoughts, and soon wrapped her own arms awkwardly around him, patting his back and rested her chin on his shoulder in the hug, nodding her head, "S-sure...I mean, no prob, Bob....I mean Hans--"

She mental smacked herself at the cringe worthy slip of the tongue, but then leaned back for a moment and observed his face. Her eyes softened at seeing those eyes full of long time regret and...a sense of relief and sincerity.

She smiled up at him, and then let out a small and soft laugh, "Thank you too...I mean, for this talk. It is good that we managed to at least get some closure out of this. Maybe not all of it, but it's a start..."

At the sound of her name being called, Anna tilted her head as she saw that one of the workers were in need of her, and she looked back at Hans with another happy smile.

"Duty calls. And um...if you ever do want to talk more, we could...maybe do so around dinner time? N-Not at the Palace, but I do know a good place near Oaken's..."

One step at a time, Anna knew that everyone does deserve a second chance for a change. It will be a slow process since trust is a shaky grounds as of this moment...but she knew that at least this was a good turning point for the both of them.

Now...at least they could close the chapter of their messy past and start anew. Especially when Hans has been working hard as she had observed today. And she hoped that he will continue to do so.

'Besides, it seems like the townspeople are warming up to him already, despite the earlier worries...' She would think, taking Hans' hand and squeezed it gently before walking off and waving at him before her thoughts continued, 'I should write to Elsa about today's events...oh! Also gotta write to Kristoff..I hope he and Sven arrived in that other Kingdom for his ice business safely~'

[rox-of-iu]

Hey, just felt called to let you know that your MQF from SVSSS doodles give me such life and inspired how I write MQF in my fics. I love how you depict him and your art style is so refreshing and cute!

Just thought you should know. Hope you have a good day!

HELLO HI THANK YOU SO MUCH??? 😭😭😭💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 GLAD TO BE OF SERVICE HAVE A FANTASTIC DAY OR NIGHT