#I don't know why that excited me so much but it really did

[mulloey]

distracted

bad students must face the consequences of their behaviour. it doesn’t matter who your boyfriend is.

words: 2.9k

part of my february festival event

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warnings: dom!professors matz x sub!student reader, teacher-student relationship (hongjoong x you), power dynamics, threesome, punishment, spanking with ruler, very light anal play, face fucking, double penetration (mouth & pussy), under-negotiated kink, unprotected sex, sir kink, degradation, light dumbification etc

i am not responsible for the content you consume.

“What is this?”

He waves the sheet in front of your face indignantly and you recognise it instantly as the test you’d taken last week; the red D scrawled in the top corner gives you away and you huff. “How did you even—”

“Seonghwa,” he says, cutting you off. You’d roll your eyes if you thought you’d get away with it right now.

You knew it was a bad idea, really, dating Hongjoong; he may not have been your professor, but he is a professor, so you should’ve figured he’d be in cahoots with your teachers. It’s not like discretion was a massive concern, anyway; your relationship is an open secret among the staff. It’s technically not allowed, but you’re a grad student, an independent adult and your parents donate enough money to the school that neither of you would be in too much trouble if anyone did find out anyway. So you suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that, when you turned in a piss-poor exam, Seonghwa had run off tattling to your boyfriend. Dickhead.

“I was just having a bad day,” you say. “I studied, really. I don't know what happened.”

Neither of you believe that, but you push your lips into a pout and do your best to look contrite—to play the sweet, innocent girl your boyfriend loves to ruin.

“Joong…” You try to sound scared but you both know you’re not; there’s nothing he could do to you that you wouldn’t enjoy, after all. You’re just as sick as each other.

Hongjoong chuckles, clicking his tongue. He looks thoughtful for a moment, like he’s pretending to be conflicted over whether to punish you or not, but he’s not very good at hiding his excitement. The regretful sigh he lets out when he makes his decision is laughably disingenuous. “Bad girl,” he says, shaking his head. “You know I can’t let you get away with this, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to respond but he doesn’t give you time; he shoves you down harshly, bending you over his desk so your ass is sticking up in the air. It’s a familiar position that you’ve found yourself in time and time again since you met him and you body prepares itself automatically; expecting him to spank you, you stick your ass up higher and wait with bated breath for the first blow. It doesn’t come. You crane your head around, confused. “Joong, what—” Oh.

You don’t need to finish the question; standing behind you, next to Hongjoong, is the very man who’d got you in this predicament in the first place— your medieval history professor, Park Seonghwa himself. He tilts his head, smiling sweetly. “Good afternoon.”

Your jaw drops. You hadn’t expected this—when did he even come in, anyway? “Joong—”

“You think we didn’t notice how you look at him?” Your boyfriend asks coolly. It’s only because of the cock in his hand, hard and already leaking, that you’re not worried he’s mad at you; no, he loves this. You should’ve known.

“Is that why you failed?” Seonghwa asks. “Too busy dreaming about me bending you over your desk? You have a boyfriend; an esteemed colleague of mine, in fact.” His tone is chiding and you feel yourself flush.

Hongjoong snorts almost petulantly. “As if she cares about that.”

“No?” Seonghwa asks. “What does she care about, then?”

“Pull her panties down and find out.”

Your cunt throbs painfully at the surety of the demand and the dark look in Seonghwa’s eyes as he obliges without hesitation. He doesn’t ask permission before he touches you—he already has it from the one who matters, after all—but when he pushes your skirt up your back, his hands still momentarily; you smile into the wood as you realise what they’re both looking at—the white, lacy panties sitting snugly across your pert cheeks.

“Well, isn’t that a sight.” Seonghwa’s voice is hoarse and affected as he rubs a hand across the delicate material. You feel yourself tense under his touch, the unfamiliar feeling of his skin on yours, and he gently pinches the soft flesh. “Relax,” he mumbles. “Be good, yeah? I won’t hurt you, I’ll be gentle.”

A sweet sounding lie; you can tell from the heaviness of his hand as it comes to rest on your ass that he has no such intentions. He fingers softly at the lace of your panties, sighing ruefully. “These really are beautiful,” he muses. “I hate to have to take them down like this, but bad students have to learn, don’t they?”

“They certainly do.” You crane your neck to follow your boyfriend’s voice and find him leaning against the wall behind Seonghwa, staring you down with familiarly cold eyes. He cocks an eyebrow when you finally catch his gaze. “Got something to say, precious?”

“No, sir,” you whisper.

“Turn around, then,” he smiles. “I’m just here to watch.”

You turn back, though more so he doesn’t see you roll your eyes than out of a desire to obey him. Seonghwa has carefully shimmied your panties down to the middle of your thighs and the cold air of the office bites at your sensitive pussy.

“Spread your legs,” he says. “Show me how wet you are.“

Blushing furiously, you part your legs, spreading them as far as you can without snapping the panties bunched around your thighs. Seonghwa hums, running a long finger through your wet folds. The touch is unexpected but Hongjoong’s trained you well enough that you manage to stay still despite your surprise. You whine a little when he pulls away and you hear both men chuckle.

“Professor Kim,” Seonghwa says. His voice has a new quality; delicate and flirtatious as he addresses your boyfriend. “Come and taste how wet she is.”

You hear Hongjoong approach the elder and try to move around to see it, but Seonghwa’s firm hand on your neck holds you still. “I don’t think so, bad girl,” he tuts. “Only good little girls get to watch. Keep still.”

“Good call,” Hongjoong purrs. “She’s always loved seeing me with other people. Little pervert would probably start humping the table if she saw me doing this.”

You hear the wet, lewd sounds of Hongjoong sucking at Seonghwa’s finger, lapping up your juices with a noise of pleasure. “Delicious little slut,” he chuckles. “Let’s get her properly disciplined so we can play with her how she wants.”

Somehow you hear the wide grin in Seonghwa’s voice as Hongjoong backs away. “I quite agree.”

His hands rests on your ass again, squeezing it softly. “This is what’s gonna happen, little one. You got a 48 on my exam, didn’t you?”

You’re almost embarrassed to hear the number and you know Hongjoong is too. “Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, Professor will do,” he says. “You’re not my friend, sweetheart. You’re just a wayward student being put back on the right path.”

Shame courses through you but it would be a lie to say it’s anything but thrilling. “Yes, professor,” you whisper.

He taps your ass appreciatively. “Good girl. So, you got a 48 on my exam. What was the pass mark?”

“60, Professor,” you mumble.

“Now that’s not very hard to achieve, is it Professor Kim?”

“It’s not. The pass marks in my class are higher, in fact.”

You want to roll your eyes at their smug, jovial tones but you’re too aroused now to do anything but anticipate.

“A pathetic score, really.” Seonghwa’s voice is closer than ever and you feel his presence just inches away. “Especially for such a bright young woman. I think you need to learn to separate your head—” he gathers a piece of your hair, gently folding it behind your ear “—and your pussy, hm?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Good.“ Something long and thin taps at your bare skin and you recognise it instantly—the wooden ruler Hongjoong keeps in his desk drawer for when he’s feeling particularly on-the-nose about the taboo nature of your relationship.

“I’m going to hit you with this twelve times,” Seonghwa purrs. “For each of the marks you easily could have gotten if you hadn’t been too busy imagining my cock in your mouth. Yeah?”

You nod, feeling yourself pulse. “Yes, Professor.”

“Repeat after me, alright?” The first hit is quick and sharp, spread over your ass and it makes you gasp. Seonghwa chuckles and rubs the reddening flesh before he grabs your hair, yanking your head back to whisper in your ear. “One,” he says. “I’m sorry for being such a slut, Professor.”

You repeat it quietly and he tuts. “Louder than that, love. I’m sure your boyfriend wants to know you’re learning your lesson.”

You oblige, repeating it louder and he makes a noise of satisfaction before the ruler comes down again, this time at the tops of your thighs. “Two,” he says. “I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

“Two, I’m… I’m sorry for thinking with my pussy instead of my head.”

The next hit lands in the same spot. “Three. I’m sorry for dripping over Professor Kim’s desk just from being spanked.”

You blush in embarrassment; you’d half hoped he wouldn’t notice, but that was a tall order anyway. When it comes to Hongjoong and anything to do with him, you’ve never been subtle.

The next hits follow the same pattern, spread across your ass and thighs with each one making you gasp louder than the last.

“Four. I’m sorry for making Professor Park waste his time disciplining me.”

“Five. I’m sorry for daydreaming about choking on another man’s cock.”

“Six. I’m sorry for being arrogant enough to think I’d get away with such an embarrassing performance.”

The last one hits you right on your dripping pussy, making you scream and he grabs your hair, spinning you around to face him and your boyfriend; your eyes hone in on Hongjoong’s cock, pulsing in his hands before Seonghwa forces your attention back to him. “Twelve,” he growls. “I’m sorry for being such a cockwhore that I’m making Professor Park break his rule about sleeping with students.”

You can’t help but grin as you repeat his words, feeling proud. Of course, you knew from the moment you turned around and saw him standing there what was going to happen, but it’s nice to hear it from him. He smiles, grasping your neck gently. “Did you like that?” He asks. “Getting spanked by your professor while your boyfriend jerks off to it?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I liked it.”

“Well, now that you’ve learnt your lesson,” he says, “I think it’s time you got fucked, no?”

You nod and turn to your boyfriend; he tilts his head, nodding towards his hard cock. “You know what to do,” he says.

“Yes, sir.” You sink to your knees, staring up at Seonghwa and sending him a teasing smile before crawling towards Hongjoong. You open your mouth, letting him push his dick inside; after all this time together, he doesn’t need to ease you into it anymore and can go straight to fucking your mouth and you take it diligently, opening your throat the way he’s trained you to. You hear Seonghwa whistle, admiring.

“She sucks cock like a fucking pro,” he laughs; the arousal in his voice is thick and unmistakable. “You’ve trained her well, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong laughs too, patting your head. “I had an excellent student,” he grins. You smile around him at the praise and he curses. “You’re too good at this, babe, Jesus. Gonna cum before I even fuck you.”

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before pulling out abruptly, shoving you off of him and in an instant Seonghwa’s hands are in your hair as he pulls you to your feet and shoves you back over the desk. You collide painfully with the wood but you barely notice; you’re used to being manhandled by now, and it only makes you more excited.

Large hands you recognise as Seonghwa’s grab your ass cheeks, pulling them apart slowly; the air hits your exposed holes and makes you jump in surprise but you quickly regain your composure. As you still yourself again you feel Hongjoong’s finger running gently across your asshole, almost like he’s inspecting it, before it slides down to toy with your pussy.

“Hm…” Seonghwa’s voice is teasing. “What’s your favourite hole of hers, Professor Kim?”

“What a question,” Hongjoong chuckles and you hear the smile in his voice. His finger prods gently at your rim, making you tense unconsciously and he tuts, lightly slapping the tight little hole. It’s a subtle, painless chastisement but it makes you whine all the same. “Now, now, kitty cat,” he chuckles. “I didn’t train you to squirm, did I?”

“No, sir,” you mumble.

“Good,” he says. “To answer your question, Hwa, I’d have to say her pussy. I love her ass, of course, but nothing compares to the way that little cunt clings to my dick like it’s just begging for a baby.”

“Well that does sound nice.” Seonghwa’s hands leave your ass, returning to your pussy to spread you open. “It looks snug,” he says. “What do you think, little one? Want your professor to breed you?”

It takes you a moment for your brain to catch up with the rest of you and you frown in confusion. “I- you mean you, Professor Park?” You ask. It comes out as more of a strangled cry; your head is a mess of arousal and you barely even register what he’s saying to you, let alone comprehend it fully.

He laughs, patting your soft skin gently. “Yes, perhaps I should be more clear. It must be confusing to be bending over in front of two of your teachers.”

Your face burns at the obvious mockery; the degrading, sneering tone of his voice but you say nothing. Seonghwa hums. “So?” He asks sweetly. “You want me in your cunt, baby girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Professor.”

“There’s those manners,” he praises.

He keeps a firm grip on your hips as he slides in from behind; the feeling of his skin against your still burning ass is uncomfortable, but the way his cock is stretching you as he buries himself inside you is the only thing your brain can process right now.

He’s just as big as Hongjoong, maybe a little bigger, but his thrusts are more fluid and controlled; where Hongjoong fucks you like an animal hungry for more, Seonghwa fucks you with precision; with intention. His hands on your hips are firm yet gentle and the way he finds you in your deepest places has your head spinning with euphoria. “Jesus,” he curses. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

You open your mouth to respond, barely getting a whine out before you feel hands in your hair, yanking at it to pull you forward. Hongjoong comes into view on the other side of the desk, his dick somehow still hard as he feeds it into your mouth. “There you go,” he coos. “Keep it hard, baby.”

You nod as best as you can and the friction against his dick makes your boyfriend groan. “Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re so fucking good with cock you could make me cum on accident.”

The feeling of two dicks inside you makes it hard to focus on either one; let alone to begin to process the filthy words they spit down at you. Intesd you close your eyes, letting the tears fall as Hongjoong starts to fuck your throat again; you’re limp against the desk now, held up solely by the wood and by the two men using you to satisfy themselves. “Oh shit,” Hongjoong says, seeing your dazed expression. “Baby’s gone dumb already.” He strokes your hair gently, a small comfort between punishing thrusts. “You okay, little dove?”

You groan in response, unable to do much else; it makes them laugh and Seonghwa pats your ass affectionately. “You’re doing so well,” he says. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up real nice, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you gasp.

The feeling of Seonghwa’s thrusts growing faster and harder and more desperate is overwhelming; coupled with the sensation of Hongjoong’s cock hitting the back of your throat again and again, it’s almost unbearable. Your fingers claw against the wood, surely leaving marks but you don’t care; you feel unlike you ever have before, stuffed full and used by two of the most attractive men you’ve ever even imagined.

You’re in so deep that you don’t even realise it’s over until the emptiness of your mouth and cunt becomes obvious; you feel cum leaking from your hole, a wet substance dripping down the desk and only when you look closer do you figure out what it is—squirt. You squirted. You squirted all over your boyfriend’s desk with another man’s cock in your pussy and you’ve never been more fucked out and satisfied than you are now.

When you stand up fully your legs, numbed and weakened by their abuse, start to give out but Hongjoong is there in an instant; he catches you in his arms, lowering himself to the ground so he can cradle you in his lap. You’re faintly aware of Seonghwa’s voice and strong hands stroking your hair before he’s gone, and it’s just you and Hongjoong.

“Good girl,” he mutters. “You took that so well.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “I only hope your performance in Professor Park’s class improves soon. Otherwise he’ll have to tutor you if you want to keep your spot in his class.”

Your heart jumps. “What?”

“Uni rules,” he shrugs, appearing nonchalant but the knowing smile on his face tells all. “If you fail two exams in a row, that’s what happens.”

You don’t know why he seems so surprised when you turn up in his office a month later with a D-minus and an already leaking pussy. He always knew you were insatiable.

Lucky for you, so are they.

—

comments/reblogs appreciated! i’m not sure im super happy with the ending but we move. let me know your thoughts! love🖤🖤🖤

ateez taglist: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi @tangerineastronaut @fancypeacepersona @aloevendetta (unable to tag: @lemonkait00 @mylovelymito)

february festival taglist: @hohongsan @nopension

[beesgobzzzing]

From https://www.sverigesradio.se/avsnitt/hooja-kaarija-om-tanken-pa-att-tavla-i-eurovision

Translation / Transcript under the cut. This interview was really nice, I highly suggest you give it a listen even if you don't speak Swedish!

Hooja and Käärijä about the thought of competing in Eurovision

Interviewer (Carolina): What an exciting collaboration! Hooja together with Käärijä. [In English] I didn't see this one coming, I can tell you that. And I will start in Swedish, with you, Hooja. [In Swedish] How in the world did this end up happening?

Hooja: We're not as different as you could think. We've been saying that both of us are crazy, we definitely saw that in the studio when we met, because we had so unbelievably much fun when writing this song. So we… we really fit well together, both personalities and musically. Writing this song was a LOT of fun.

Carolina: Yeah, because… I mean… but HOW did you meet from the start so that this ended up happening?

Mårdis: At first we had been tittle-tattling in our camp about how it would be fun, because we see a lot of similarities in each other despite also being so dissimilar. And then they apparently had also been talking in THEIR camp as well, so it sort of came up in a roundabout way AGAIN that "he wants to make something with you". So we decided that we'll go down and do this, and we met up, and we had fun, and there was no pressure, no idea was bad, we were there for two days and just laughed. And that's what happens when you have fun, too, you make music from that, and that's how we got San Francisco Boy, our lovely child that we have together. [In English, to K] San Francisco Boy is our child that we have together.

Käärijä: Yes!

Carolina: A love child.

Käärijä: YES!! (Laughter)

Carolina: So, Käärijä, I must ask you, have you seen them without their masks?

Käärijä: Maybe I see more than only face…

Carolina: In the sauna..?

Käärijä: Maybe… (Even more laughter and something unintelligible about a mask)

Carolina: But it's so nice to see, because they just said, in Swedish, that when they were in the studio, they laughed so much. Was it the same for you?

Käärijä: Yes, yes. And, uh, I remember, first time, because you start to make like, the beats, and you played that song in Finland, to me, and I'm "uh, ok, this is… this is very funny and crazy and I feel good" when the boys played the song. And uh, then we start to try and do something and we get the song San Francisco Boy. And, uh… very, very good times and we get a lot of fun.

Carolina: [In Swedish] And the funny part is, San Francisco Boy, is in Swedish and English, but I'm thinking this - We have northern Sweden, we have Finland, and we end up with San Francisco Boy. (Laughter) Is there any hidden meaning with this?

Hooja: Why not? [In English] Why not? (Laughter) [In Swedish] We don't like doing the most obvious thing.

Carolina: No, no.

Hooja: No.

Carolina: But there is no hidden meaning in the song?

Hooja: No, I don't really think there is. What do you think? (To K and Mårdis)

Mårdis: If there's a message in the song, this is what we said when we started with the song - Disco Boy, San Francisco Boy, whatever you want to be, if you want to be Orange Boy or Finland Boy then you're allowed to be that. That was a thing that we really agree upon, that… It sounds cliche, you know, "you can be who you want to be", but we really think that. For real. And it's important to us. And that we could put that into a funny song, that just sort of happened, and it's nice.

Carolina: And now you're here at Melodifestivalen, and get a taste of… wait, get a feeling of what it's like being here. Have you considered Hooja in Melodifestivalen?

Hooja: Well… Never say never, we've gotten the question a few times and we've said no then, but you never know what the future holds! You don't want to say too much, you need to.. you need to watch your words.

Carolina: [In English] Käärijä help me here, I'm trying persuade them to do the Swedish Melodifestivalen.

Käärijä: I think the boys have to make öööh, to use what they want to do. Maybe… Maybe some day. For me, why I tried to go to Eurovision in 2023, we made the song Cha Cha Cha, and it's like the first demo, and I'm thinking, "okay, this is more than just only song, we can do something bigger" and one way how we can do something bigger, um, we can go to Eurovision, and uh, I watching a lot of Eurovision when I was young.

Mårdis: And if we want to go to Eurovision one day, we are very happy to have a Eurovision veteran with us, who can guide us through life.

Käärijä: Yes, I can be your manager. (Laughter)

Carolina: That is a brilliant idea! [In Swedish] We have this on tape now. [In English] We have it on record here.

Käärijä: Yes, yes!

Carolina: Now we come..

Käärijä: We have a plan, boys! Yes, let's go to studio. (Laughter)

Carolina: I will call the EBU immediately and say "Hi, I've got three guys who will SHAKE the Eurovision around". (Laughter) But I must also ask you, Käärijä, coming second after Loreen but winning the public vote… Are you still mad? Are people in Finland still mad at Sweden? [Bees note: The interviewer's tone of voice here is very genuine and almost… apologetic?]

Käärijä: I think that people in Finland, they are mad, but not really… I'm not. Of course I remember time after final where they give the points and I saw that Loreen get more points than me, I going to cry on toilet, but… (giggles) but yes, I'm ok and Loreen is amazing artist and person, human, I love Loreen. And after final, Loreen sent me the message to "Käärijä, if you need something…"

Hooja, breaking in: Except the price… (Laughter)

Käärijä: If you need money or something… (Laughter)

Mårdis: If you want to look at the price… (Laughter)

Käärijä: But yeah, good person and I… I'm not care any more, I'm ok (giggling)

Carolina: To wrap it up then, a final question I'm very curious about, will you proceed doing this (stumbles over words) [In Swedish] I'll just do it in Swedish - will the collaboration continue? [In English] Will you continue this collaboration?

Hooja: You never know! No but, uh, you do never know.

Mårdis: I think the thing with us, we only do things that are fun for us, it's the only thing we care about, that's what music is for us. If it's fun, we're going to do it, and we've had a lot of fun with this too, so I'm ending it just like Hooja, you never know! (Laughter)

Carolina: [In English] Ok, two diplomatic answers, that they had fun, Käärijä, the Finnish vote - this sounds like a dating show! - do you want to continue dating these boys?

Käärijä: You don't know yet! But I think, boys, you can't run away anymore, when you do work with Käärijä you stay with Käärijä. (Laughter) Oh yes, yes, yes (Laughter) But uh, yeah, I hope we do other songs and more songs, and uh, let's see!

Hooja: Yeah!

Carolina: Thank you very much! [In Swedish] Thank you so much, I'm crossing my fingers we get more from your collab in the future! (Collective "woo-hoo!")

[sissylittlefeather]

So... I had this dream about Elvis.

It's a little blurry and my English isn't perfect, nos, but I can remember the important bits.

I (the reader, of you wanna write about it ;]) was working as Elvis's assistant and practically loved with him. There where some feelings between us and, eventually, we ended up in bed together. The things were getting heated up, he was rubbing himself through his pants and i was grinding against his thigh.. and just when things where going to get good...

I woke up.

Oh, sweet, sweet nonnie. Your fantastic dream sparked a whole thing for me. Please enjoy this fanfic that resulted from this ask:

Return to Sender

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, cussing, dry humping, thigh riding, p in v sex, unprotected sex, ejaculation

Word count: ~3.3k

Also decided to base it loosely on this gif:

You were so nervous in your interview that you actually knocked a cup of something off of his desk. As a result, you were pretty sure you did not get the job. But what you didn't know is that he found your stuttering and fidgeting endearing and when you bent over to clean up the cup you spilled, the view he got of your ass made his decision for him.

That's how you ended up as Elvis Presley's private secretary. It's 1959 and he gets so much fan mail these days that he can't manage it all himself. So, he hires you to help him out. He's pleased when you prove to be useful and supremely impressed when you show him that you can mimic his signature perfectly. Still, his interest in you is far from purely functional.

He's not sure how to go about making his first move, especially since you work for him and he'd hate to lose you. You're really quite effective, so he'll have to play this just right. He doesn't want to offend you and run you off for good.

Instead, he spends a lot of time watching you and smiling at you when you catch him looking. You can't figure out why he keeps looking at you. You're not dumb, not even naive really, but it still seems outside the realm of reality that he might be into you for more than your typing skills.

He tests the waters a little with some flirtation here and there, and you don't seem to turn him down, but you also don't seem to reciprocate. He confuses your nervousness with disinterest and tries to stay focused on the task at hand any time you're together. But as time passes, you get more and more comfortable with each other and eventually a kind of friendship forms between you. It's easy to bond as you laugh about some of the crazy things the girls write to him, but you really start to get close when he begins to talk to you. And not just about the letters. Without meaning to, he tells you about his loneliness, his fears, and how much he misses his mama. You're a good listener and he needs you more than he realizes.

Eventually, you get to the end of his time in the service and know he'll be headed back to the states soon. You're not exactly excited about seeing him go, but there's not much you can do to change it, so you take it in stride.

He's not so resigned, though.

If there's even the slightest chance that you might want him, he's not going to let the opportunity pass him by. The night before all of his big army-ending interviews, he asks you to come over. You assume he needs you to get through some letters or something before he leaves, but he has something else entirely different in mind.

“Hey, honey, thank you for coming over so late.” His voice is quiet, shy almost. The room is dimly lit and there's the faint smell of cigar smoke in the air. He sits in a large armchair, watching you as you stand in the middle of the room. You nod and tell him that you don't mind.

“You have some new letters that you need help with?” He shakes his head sheepishly, shifting uncomfortably in the chair.

“Not really. I just wanted to see ya before I leave.” You blink a few times, confused.

“I'll be there for the interviews tomorrow.” He nods. This is not a surprise, but he wants to talk to you without people around.

“Yeah, but…” He fumbles over the words, trying to say exactly what he feels. The hesitation is heavy in the air between you and it's almost as though the words get caught in his throat when he tries to speak.

“But what, Elvis?” You look down at him and he sighs deeply, drumming his fingers on his knee anxiously. Without warning, he stands up and walks to you, grazing his fingertips over your cheek gently. There's a moment of nothing but being between you and you see the conviction enter his eyes.

“Oh, fuck it.” And then his lips are on yours, soft and needy. At first, you're so shocked that you stand there with your eyes open and his mouth on yours. You can see his eyelashes where they settle on his cheeks and feel him breathing as his chest rises and falls so close to you. He pulls back and notices the look on your face. “No? Was that…?”

“Do it again.” A smile creeps across his face and he leans down and kisses you again. This time your eyes close and you melt into him. The taste of him on your lips is exquisite, something between mint and man, and it feels like you'll never get enough. He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth, his hands drifting to your hips as he pulls you in close to him, your bodies flush against each other. You moan softly as his lips move down your jaw to your neck and his hands slips down to grab your ass through your dress.

“I've wanted this forever.” His voice rumbles against your throat. You feel his hardness where he presses it against you, the urgency in his hips becoming more obvious.

“Took you long enough.” A little giggle escapes your lips as his hands continue to roam your body, squeezing you where it pleases him. He takes your breasts in both hands and lets out a small whimper. The need for more of him burns inside of you, manifesting in the ache in your center. His cock is so hard it hurts as he rolls against you, tangling one hand in your hair to hold you still as he dips his tongue into your mouth again. You start to pull at his shirt as he walks you backwards through the house toward his bedroom, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible.

You fumble with buttons, fingers trembling in anticipation. All of a sudden, it seems like his shirt has a hundred buttons and you groan in frustration. He pulls back, chuckling and pulls it over his head, dropping it to the floor. In the hallway, he turns your back to him and puts your hands on the wall, dragging his down your back to your hips. The ache between your thighs is quickly becoming unbearable, your body burning up with the intensity of your need. His hands grip your hips as he ruts against you, his erection straining against the fabric of his pants. Then, you feel his lips on the back of your neck as he unzips your dress, pushing it forward off of you to let it pool at your feet. He turns you to face him, eagerly raking his eyes over you hungrily as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He takes a moment to really appreciate your body in just your underwear and bra.

“What?” You ask playfully, noticing the spellbound look on his face. He shakes his head a little, basking in the scent of your perfume as it mixes with the heat of your body.

“You're even more beautiful than I could've imagined.” He runs his fingertips down the side of your stomach and grips your hip tightly. The last ounce of inhibition leaves you and you grab the back of his neck, pulling his lips back down to yours. Every ounce of him hums with insatiable desire as his soft mouth moves on yours passionately. He pushes your back to the wall and presses his body tightly against yours, his thigh on your center. Without thinking, you start to rub yourself on his thigh, your body begging for friction against your swollen clit. He groans and starts to roll his hips against you. “Goddamn, baby. Don't stop that.”

Your hands slide around to his back as you pick up speed, grinding your clothed pussy on his leg.

“Oh god, Elvis.” A deep moan floats up and out of you as your aching bud reacts to the delicious sensation of his pants.

“Fuck, baby. That's a good girl. Make yourself cum on me.” He grips your hips and helps you rut against him, chasing your orgasm. The wetness seeps through your panties, soaking the fabric under you, but he doesn't care. He wants you to cum, needs you to cum, his hips stuttering against you as you rub on him.

“I'm s-so close.” It's more of a whimper than a sentence, but he gets your meaning. His grasp on your hips is almost bruising as you grind on him faster and harder. The familiar bubbling heat gathers in your lower belly as the sweat drips between your breasts. He captures your lips in a desperate kiss and then mumbles against you.

“Come on, baby. You're right there. Let go.” And then, like your body knew to listen to him, you cum on command, shuddering and trembling as the orgasm rushes through you, sending bolts of pleasure to your extremities. He starts to slow the rolling of your hips as you go floppy against him. “Good girl. So pretty when you cum.”

“Think I might've ruined your pants.” You whisper and he chuckles.

“They'll wash. Can you walk?” You look at him, your eyes hazy with your post-orgasm daze.

“Huh?”

“I'm nowhere near finished with you.” He smirks.

“I'm not sure-” You don't even get the sentence out before he bends down, throwing you over his shoulder. A squeal escapes your lips as he carries you to the bedroom and drops you unceremoniously on the bed. He turns on a small light on the nightstand, casting a kind of orange glow around the room. You look at him standing there, the small patch of hair on his chest, his angelic face, and the small wet spot where his dick has leaked precum onto his pants and continues to stand at full attention. He looks at you spread out on the bed and decides at that moment that he'd give you anything you wanted, even his last name if you asked for it.

“I need you, baby.” He palms himself over his pants and you nod, reaching back to unhook your bra. You slip it down your arms and drop it on the floor, moving to push your panties down your legs. He grunts when your pussy becomes visible, moving his hand on his cock a little faster. When you spread your legs, he bites his bottom lip and moans.

“What are you waiting for?” You coo. His eyes are glued to your glistening pussy as he quickly unbuttons his pants and lets them drop. Your mouth waters a little as his cock bounces free, big and uncut and weeping precum. He climbs on top of you, arranging himself against your entrance and taking one of your legs onto his shoulder.

“You ready for me, honey?” He asks desperately, rubbing his tip through your wet folds. You nod and he groans, slowly pushing into you. The feeling of his dick stretching you out is overwhelmingly good. Finally, he groans, his whole cock buried deep inside you, balls pressed against your ass, as he resists the urge to pound you silly. Your hands clench around the silky sheets and you breathe, trying to adjust to the feeling of him. He looks at you with his eyebrows knit together in concern. “You okay?”

“God, yes.” He smiles down at you and pulls his hips back, sliding his now-wet cock out of you and then rolling them forward again, plunging himself into you. Your eyes roll back and you moan loudly as he starts to pick up a steady rhythm of slamming against you. He kisses your ankle gently and fucks into you over and over again. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as the scent of your sex hangs in the air. Your breasts bounce with every thrust and he grunts, his release gathering in his balls. The headboard starts to bang against the wall and the little light on the nightstand rocks with the force of your lovemaking.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. Such a tight little pussy.” His hair is sweaty on his forehead and you revel in the smell of him as he wraps your leg around his hip and leans down to kiss you, his cock sliding in and out of you. In doing so, he shifts the angle a little and begins to rub against your g-spot. Now, you whimper and moan with every movement of his hips, clawing at his back as he pounds you. You devolve into just a body, soaking in each sensation: skin pressed together, sticky and wet, his tongue in your mouth, insistent and deep, and his cock filling your pussy up again and again. He does the same, sinking into the waves of pleasure, your tight heat wrapped around his dick, squeezing him just right. Everything is sensual as you mix together and quickly lose track of whose sweat is whose.

“Elvisssss…” You whine, another climax crashing into you and burning you up from the inside out. He moans with the feeling of your pussy tightening around him.

“Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum. Fuck. Gonna… oh fuck!” He pulls out of you at the very last possible second, shooting cum all over the inside of your thighs. His cock throbs and pulses and he collapses on top of you, sticky ropes pumping out of him onto your legs. When he finally finishes, he groans loudly and picks up his head, kissing your lips softly. You giggle and push his hair back off his forehead. He chuckles. “I made a mess.”

“Yes, you did. But I helped.” He laughs and kisses you again.

“Yeah, I'm gonna blame this one on you.” You giggle as he rolls off of you and fetches a washcloth from the bathroom to clean you up. When he's done, he crawls back into bed and pulls you onto his chest. “Stay with me?”

You look up into his eyes and it's obvious he doesn't want to be alone tonight. Honestly, you wouldn't leave him even if you could.

“Of course.” He smiles and nuzzles into your hair. You settle in to sleep with him wrapped around you.

***

When you wake up the next morning, he's already dressed in his full uniform. He moves around the room quietly, but he notices when you stir and smiles softly.

“Hey, baby.” You lift your head up and yawn, stretching.

“You're leaving?” He nods and then sits down on the bed to put his shoes on.

“Yeah, I have those interviews. You comin’?” Again, it's clear that he wants you there, so you nod back.

“Oh yeah. I just have to run home and get dressed, but I'll be there.”

“Good.” He leans in and kisses your forehead before standing up. You're still naked from your activities last night and he looks down at you hungrily. He pulls the covers down a little so that he can see your body. “Goddamnit. I hate to leave ya.”

You're not sure if he's talking about this morning or forever. You reach out and take his hand, kissing it gently and then placing it on your breast.

“Fuck.” He climbs into bed in his uniform and pulls you onto him, kissing you deeply and running his hands all over your body.

“Thought you had to go?” You ask between kisses. He groans and buries his face in your neck. The sweet scent of your sweat and sex lingers on your skin and he breathes it in, trying to commit everything about you to memory. He mumbles into your hair.

“Yeah, I do. Just wish I could keep you naked in my bed forever.” For a few more seconds, you just hold each other, trying not to think about the future. Then, he pulls away from you and gets out of bed. “I'll see you at the interviews.”

He turns and leaves before he can get back into the bed and stays there until he dies. You sigh and get up, gathering your things and getting dressed. Something is missing, though. You cannot find your panties anywhere. Sighing again, you check your watch. You don't have time to keep looking. At least he'll have something to remember you by.

******

At the interviews, you stand behind him sipping your coffee and watching. The press are snapping photos like crazy and the flash bulbs are almost giving you a headache. You wonder how he stands it. The room is filled with noise and people, but you can't take your eyes off of him. He looks better than he ever has before, but maybe that's because you've seen him naked and know how beautiful he is without clothes. Your eyes drift down a little and you think about what's hiding under his pants, rubbing your thighs together. And that's when you see them: your panties, just barely peeking out of his pocket.

Your mouth pops open, but you shut it quickly. That little shit. He stole your panties! And he has them with him!

You grab a pen and a scrap of paper and scribble out a note. Motivated by his boldness, you walk up behind him and then lean forward, slipping the note into his jacket. He looks up and realizes it's you, his heart stopping in his chest. Still, he plays it off for the press and keeps going.

However, the second he's able, he pulls out the note and reads it eagerly.

You thief. I see what you stole and I want them back! Call me before you leave.

He grins widely, kisses the note, and folds it up, adding it to the pocket where your panties are. His intention was only to keep them, but now his blood is pumping with the possibility of seeing you again. A thought hits him and he sits with it for a bit. By the time he gets home, he's determined to make it a reality. He picks up the phone and dials your number.

“Hello?”

“I'm not givin’ em back.” Your face breaks into a smile.

“You better!” He chuckles.

“Alright, you can have ‘em. BUT-” He pauses for effect and you just about die with anticipation. You hear him take a deep, steadying breath before he continues. “You have to come get them in Memphis.”

Your mouth drops in shock. You're not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn't that.

“In Memphis?”

“Yes. Come home with me.” His heart is in his throat as he waits for your response. He twists the phone cord around his finger and bites his lip. If only he could see your face. The suspense is killing him.

“Okay.” What else could you say?

“Okay?” He asks excitedly, standing up with the phone.

“Yes.” Your heart is racing, but there's nothing that important keeping you here. Not if he's asking you.

He does a silent fist pump and thanks God that you said yes.

“I'll come get you on my way to the airport. Pack to stay for a while. Like, forever.”

“Elvis…”

“Listen, baby. It took me a long time to find you. I'm not lettin’ you get away anytime soon. You gonna argue?” You think for a second about what you're agreeing to and then decide to take a leap of faith.

“Not at all.”

“Good. And baby?”

“Yeah?” He hesitates for a second, his nerves getting the better of him. Then, he just says it, unable to keep the words from tumbling out.

“I love you.” Your heart stops.

“I love you too, Elvis.”

******

The End

Taglist:

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[cloverapple]

Thank you for posting! Reading your stuff is a lot of help, and your shifting method is awesome sauce i've been using it for the past two nights (the reasons for why I didn't shift i'm self-aware of and will proceed accordingly, not writing it down here because i feel like it's unneccesarry and don't think you can say much abt it) what I was curious if you could give advice about is: fear of shifting? Don't get me wrong i really want to shift. Been on this journey for years for a reason! And i think soon i'll finally do it, as i've never been as consistent, putting in actual work, as I am and as I do now. Last night, when body was truly asleep and it was just only me, I did my thing trying to shift. And suddenly this weight settled on me, as if the world was too big and too heavy, and i immediately thought "I can't do this" and rolled over with the decision to just simply sleep. Today i talked with a friend about this, and he said it's probably "a fear of shifting, a fear of responsibility", and honestly I agree with this take. Of course I will try again tonight, and will keep doing so until I can push through this feeling and actually shift, but i was wondering if you had a word of advice? Thank you <3

• The way I see the fear of shifting is like: that fear you felt right before the shift wasn’t a failure, it was a sign you were right there.

• Think about it: why would your mind suddenly scream "I can’t do this!" and slam the brakes when you were on the edge of what you’ve been working toward? It’s because, on some level, your subconscious knew shifting was about to happen.

• It accepted it as real, as possible, and that’s exactly when the fear kicked in. That fear isn’t about shifting being impossible, it’s your mind clinging to the familiar, trying to protect you from stepping into something that it's your current reality. Our brains are wired to favor what we know, even if what we know isn’t what we want. It’s like standing at the edge of a cliff with a parachute—you know the parachute will open, but the ground beneath your feet still feels safer.

• So, no, you didn’t fail. Don’t look at that fear as a blockage because it’s not. It’s a precedent to progress, a signpost that you're on the brink of success. Fear is just your mind’s way of saying, "This is real."

To work through it: First, understand that fear is just another form of anxiety—and anxiety, at its core, is the same physiological response as excitement. The only difference is the story you tell yourself about it. When you feel that fear creeping in during the day, don’t shove it down. Let yourself feel it, but flip the script. Visualize the moments you’re genuinely excited for in your DR. Happy, comforting, exciting things that make you want to shift. Feel how easily that fear morphs into anticipation. Emotions are malleable, and once you start associating that tension with excitement instead of dread, you’ll find it easier to move forward.

What you really need to do if fear is your issue, is let go. Stop putting shifting on this towering pedestal. Yes, it’s amazing, but it’s also normal. The more you treat it like this huge, mystical event, the more your mind will see it as something to fear. Shift your perspective. Talk about it like it’s just another part of your day, think of it as routine, affirm it as something natural. Trick your brain into seeing shifting as regular and unexciting, and it’ll stop resisting. Because at the end of the day, shifting isn’t some impossible feat. It’s just you becoming aware of another space you already belong in.

• But let’s go even deeper, to stop that freeze response from hijacking you the next time you’re at the doorway to your shift. We’re going to eliminate the fear before it even has a chance to rise. (yes I'm giving you optional homework because I'm the worst 😁)

The "Normalize Your DR" Exercise

1. Document Your CR Routine. Write down your current daily schedule in your CR. What time you wake up, eat, work, study, relax, everything. Create a schedule.

2. Now create a parallel schedule for your DR. You could do this for the day you're going to wake up in your DR, or next day, depends on what you scripted and feels better for you. What are you doing at each hour? How does your morning routine look? Who do you see? Where are you?

3. Sync CR Time with DR Time. Match your CR schedule to your DR schedule. For every hour in your day, mentally check in with what you’d be doing in your DR at that exact time. This repetitive syncing normalizes your DR in your mind. It becomes part of your routine, not some distant, unreachable dream that your mind fears shifting to.

4. Visualize Throughout the Day. As you go through your CR, take moments to pause and visualize your DR. The more your mind gets used to the idea of being in your DR, the less foreign—and therefore less scary—it becomes.

I hope you can take something from this. Good luck! 💚🩷🫂

[owlwithanapple]

Life is change

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Y/N 🥰

♥️♥️♥️ I love the character Ghost very much. I want him to be happy and have a different life. A happy marriage, family and love. If you like it, please reblog my fanfiction. You are also welcome to give me comments to motivate me to write more and more exciting works. 🖤🖤🖤

Ghost and you have been married for over few years and have always had a very harmonious relationship. Unexpectedly, had a quarrel. Because had a fight about work and he acted rashly to save Gaz. You ran away from home in a rage and went back to your brother Soap Mactavish's house. “Soap! I’m gonna stay here for a while.”

Soap was sitting down on his couch reading a newspaper when he suddenly heard the loud banging on the front door. He quickly placed the paper down on his coffee table then got up off the couch and approached the front door before opening it. Standing there was you in an obviously annoyed state. Soap chuckled slightly before looking at you with a small smirk. “Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes. What's wrong? You look pissed.”

“Your fucking teammate Lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley has pissed me. Last operation with Gaz, he acted rashly to saved Gaz.”

Soap sighed heavily as he listened to your explanation, not being surprised to heard that Ghost acted rashly and was being an idiot. Soap said as he shook his head and then placed a hand on his forehead before looking back at you. “Of course he did...that idiot. So that's why you’re here? Because of some argument between you and Ghost?”

“Yup. I’m angry, that’s why I’m here.”

Soap chuckled softly then stepped to the side, allowing you to come in. He said with a smirk, which caused you to give him a look. He shrugged it off and began to walk over to the couch, sat down and then gestured for you to sit down to. “Well you’re welcome to stay for as long as you want. Just don't let me hear any complaining while you’re here. So how angry are you at Ghost then? On a scale of 1 to 10.”

“Hmph! He doesn’t care about me and my feelings. Keep doing rashly things. He’s saving Gaz and hit by bullet. I was angry and about to explode.”

Soap chuckled softly as he listened to your complaints. He knew that Ghost's tendency to act rashly would inevitably cause a reaction out of you. Soap could practically hear Ghost's voice in his head saying I can take care of myself. Soap shaking his head as he leaned back onto the couch. “I can only imagine how hard it must be to hold yourself back from blowing up every time he does something stupid. But you still love him though, right?”

“Hmph! But…He doesn’t even call me or find me! That’s shitty skull mask husband!”

Soap chuckled softly at your insult toward Ghost, finding the nickname that shitty skull mask husband to be an amusing as he let out a sigh. He said before taking a pause then looking at you again. “Yeah I don't think Ghost is smart enough to do that. He's not really one to apologize for anything either. That man is dense as hell. But I still think you love him, don't you? I know you do.”

“Hmph! Of course I do. I just don’t want him reckless.”

Soap smiled slightly as he heard your words before letting out a deep sigh and leaning his head back onto the couch. “Ghost doesn't know any other way to work. He's the type to throw himself into life-threatening situations and come out of them uninjured. I'm surprised he hasn't suffered any major injury all these years of service.”

Soap said before looking at you again, his expression becoming more serious. “Just try to remember that he's doing all of it to keep other people safe. That includes yourself.”

“I don’t care others, I care my fucking husband. I’m a medic, you know how hurt my heart especially I patching my skull husband?”

Soap let out a heavy sigh and nodded his head, understanding how you felt. “I know how you feel. I feel like Ghost is gonna give me a heart attack everytime he risks his life. But I've known him for many years, so I know he'll always be able to get out of trouble.”

He paused for a few moments before looking you in the eyes. “But Ghost isn't just your husband, he's a soldier first. He has to prioritize his duties over his personal life.”

“Tch, don’t remind me that. I just want to complaint about my skull face husband.”

Soap smiled slightly at your response before letting out another sigh, realizing that nothing he said was really gonna make any difference. “Trust me, I know you're worried about Ghost. I am too, everytime he goes out on a mission, I sit by the phone wondering if he's coming back this time. But I know he will.”

He looked at you then patted you on the shoulder. “Ghost probably is feeling bad right now you know, even if he'll never admit it.”

“Hmph! I watched the tv first. Bye, Soap.”

Soap chuckled as he heard you before waving you off. “Alright, I'm gonna make some lunch later if you want any. Just hollar.”

He said before you began to walk away, his expression turning slightly more serious again as he muttered to himself. “That idiot Ghost better not have gotten himself in trouble this time.”

Soap was busy cooking lunch in the kitchen, suddenly heard the sound of the front door being opened. He paused for a moment listened to the sound of footsteps entering the house. “That must be-"

His thoughts were cut off when he saw Ghost enter the kitchen, still wearing his black tactical gear. Soap's expression hardened slightly at the sight of him. “Speak of the devil.”

Ghost didn't say anything at first, his expression as blank and unreadable as always underneath the mask. He took a few more steps into the kitchen before finally speaking in his familiar raspy voice. “Soap.”

Soap nodded his head in acknowledgment before taking a closer look at him, noticing the various injuries he had sustained. “You really did it this time, didn't you? Looks like you took a beating.”

Ghost shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, as if the injuries he had received were nothing serious, and replied with a dry tone. “I've had worse.”

Soap rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, knowing that Ghost had a tendency to downplay the severity of his injuries. “Of course you have. But this time you've done a good job pissing off her. I don't think I've ever seen her so angry before.”

Ghost's body stiffened at the mention of you, and for a moment, Soap could see a hint of guilt in his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by his usual emotionless mask. “She's angry with me?”

Soap raised an eyebrow at his response, surprised that he was even asking that question. “Yeah, she's beyond angry. She came over here earlier, ranting and raving about how you're not caring about her feelings and how you always act rashly during missions.”

Ghost's expression remained unreadable, but Soap could tell that the words were getting to him. He let out a heavy sigh and spoke, his voice slightly strained. “She doesn't understand the work we do.”

Soap shook his head and let out a snort of derision. “She's a medic, dumbass. She understands better than you think. She's just worried about you.”

Ghost let out a scoff of disbelief, feeling insulted by Soap's words. He crossed his arms over his chest and spoke in a defiant tone. “She worries too much.”

Soap rolled his eyes and shook his head once again, not surprised by Ghost's lack of insight. “You know that's what happens when you marry someone. They worry about you because they care about you.”

You heard their conversation, you cleared your throat and clenched the fist then approached to interrupt them. “No need to persuade him, Soap. He doesn't need to know, and he doesn't want to know.”

Soap and Ghost both turned to look at you as you interrupted them, Soap looked slightly surprised while Ghost's expression remained as blank and unreadable as ever. Soap took a step back and raised his hands slightly in a placating gesture. “Y/N, I was just-“

Ghost interrupted him and took a step forward, his voice still lacking in any emotion. “You're here.”

“Of course I’m here. My brother’s home. A home that I stayed before I married.”

Soap nodded his head and looked between the pair of you, sensing the tension in the air. He took a step back and leaned against the counter. Ghost's expression remained blank, but Soap could see a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes as he spoke. “You're angry with me.”

It wasn't a question, more of a statement. You rolled your eyes and responded with a sharp tone. “Of course I'm angry with you. You're always acting rashly and putting yourself in danger without even thinking about how it affects me.”

Ghost's jaw clenched at your words, his expression still blank but you could see the frustration building within him. He let out a scoff and spoke in a defiant tone. “You don't understand. My job is dangerous. It's what I do.”

Soap shook his head and spoke up once again, trying to diffuse the situation. “She knows that, Ghost. She's just worried about you.”

Ghost turned to Soap and snapped back, his voice rising in volume. “I don't need anyone worrying about me. I can take care of myself.”

“I just don’t understand why my husband wants to push me away? I’m a medic and I know the risks. But…it’s my fault that I worry my husband more? Tell me, Simon. I beg you.”

Ghost let out another heavy sigh and shook his head, his expression still conflicted. “It's not your fault for worrying. That's the natural response someone has when they care about someone else.”

He took a step forward and reached out, placing a hand on your shoulder gently. “But I don't want to be the reason you're worried all the time. I don't want you to constantly be worrying about me getting hurt or killed on the field.”

“Simon. Listen carefully, I’m your fucking wife. I’m the person who says I do when you proposal to me. So I fucking definitely will worrying about you, even you just accidentally cut your finger!”

Ghost chuckled softly at your words, his usual blank expression softening into a small smirk under his mask. “You're a stubborn one, aren't you?”

He took a step forward until he was standing directly in front of you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders and spoke in a quieter voice. “I know you'll worry about me. I can't stop you from doing that. And I know you'll be there to patch me up if I get hurt.”

“That’s right, because I’m a fucking medic.”

Ghost chuckled softly again and nodded his head in agreement. He paused for a moment and then spoke again, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Yeah, you're a damn good medic. You've saved my life more times than I can count. But you're also a damn good wife.”

“Hmph. So you know I’m not just a medic, also your wife. I thought I’m just a statue.”

Ghost nodded his head and a small smirk appeared on his face. “Yeah, I know you're more than just a medic. You're my wife. My partner. The one person who's always there for me, no matter what.”

He took a step closer to you and spoke in a quieter voice, the tone of his voice changing to a more serious one. “And I know that I don't deserve you, but I'm thankful to have you. I'm still grateful for the day you said I do.”

You could feel your heart rate increasing as he spoke, his words making you feel slightly flustered. Soap cleared his throat from the side, reminding you of their presence. You blushed slightly and turned to look at Soap, who was watching the two of you with a sly smile on his face. Soap chuckled and spoke up, his tone teasing. “Looks like the lovebirds are getting all cozy over here.”

You rolled your eyes ignoring your brother then stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his masked cheek, feeling the rough material brush against your palm. Took a deep breath, still feeling the anger and worry in heart. “I married you because I love you, Simon. But it's because I love you that I worry about you all the time. I can't help it. You're my fucking husband.”

Ghost's expression softened even more as you placed your hand on his cheek, the rough fabric of his mask against your palm. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a soft sigh before opening them again, looking into your eyes.

He placed a hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him. He paused for a moment before speaking again, his voice quieter this time. “I know you worry about me. And I know it's because you love me. But I can't help worrying about you too.”

You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke, the closeness between you both causing a mixture of emotions to swirl within you. On one hand, you were still angry and upset with him for his reckless behavior. But on the other hand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and security in his presence.

Soap cleared his throat once again, interrupting the intimate moment between you and Ghost. “Alright, lovebirds. I get the feeling I'm the third wheel over here.”

“Tch. Fine. Alright alright. Can’t let my lovely brother ignore by us.”

Soap chuckled softly at your words, shaking his head in amusement. “Don't worry about me. I'm used to being the third wheel around here.”

Ghost rolled his eyes under his mask at Soap's comment, but didn't say anything. He was too focused and concerned about you. Soap leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, a small smirk on his face. “So, you two lovebirds figure things out yet?”

“Um…I think so. I’m not angry anymore..”

Soap nodded his head and looked between the two of you, noticing the change in the atmosphere between you and Ghost. “Good, I'm glad you're not angry anymore.”

Ghost remained silent and let out a soft sigh, relieved that you weren't angry anymore. He kept his hand on your waist, holding you close. Soap spoke up again, his tone somewhat amused. “So, lovebirds, you gonna make out in front of me or what?”

Ghost's grip on your waist tightened slightly and he let out a scoff under his mask, clearly amused by Soap's words as well. “You wish, Soap.”

Soap chuckled and held his hands up playfully in mock surrender. “Hey, can you blame a guy for asking? It's not every day you see a cute couple like you two getting all romantic.”

You rolled your eyes at Soap's comment and swat him playfully, trying to hide the slight flush on your cheeks. “Jeez, come on, Simon. Let’s go home.”

Ghost nodded his head in agreement, seemingly grateful for an excuse to get out of the situation with Soap. “Yeah, let's get out of here.”

He kept his hand on your waist and guided you toward the door, giving a dismissive wave to Soap. “See you later, Soap.”

Soap chuckled and watched the two of you head out the door, a smirk on his face. “Later, lovebirds.”

As Ghost and you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face, providing a sense of relaxation. Ghost's hand remained on your waist, guiding you toward a black SUV parked nearby. He opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in, his voice still gruff but with a hint of tenderness. “Get in. I'll drive.”

“Tch, isn't it me who's driving? Alright, I don't want to scratch your car again.”

Ghost let out a soft chuckle, his tone slightly amused as he remembered the time you accidentally scratched his car. “Right, I remember that. You're lucky I didn't make you pay for the repairs.”

He closed the passenger door once you had settled in, then made his way to the driver's seat. As he was about to get in, he paused for a moment and looked at you. “Remember, no loud music this time. I don't need my eardrums blown out again.”

“Tch. Fine. Hm…ocean background music. Satisfied?”

Ghost nodded his head in acknowledgment as he started the car, the engine purring to life. “Sure, ocean background music is fine. As long as it's not too loud.”

He began to drive, maneuvering the car through the streets with practiced ease. The streetlights cast a warm glow on his face, illuminating the sharp angles of his jaw and the slight tilt of his head. “You know, you're the only person I let touch this car.”

“Good. That’s my privilege I want.”

He continued to drive, his focus mostly on the road ahead. The tension from earlier in the day had faded, replaced by a comfortable silence between the two of you. Ghost chuckled softly at your words, his expression still mostly hidden under his mask but his eyes betraying a hint of amusement. “Yeah, well, don't get too used to it. You've already scratched it once.”

“Hey, that’s was an accident. I was too panicked at reverse parking then boom. You scold me that time. And I feel like, oh ~ my lovely husband is not loving me anymore ~ I’m so sad.”

Ghost rolled his eyes under his mask, knowing you were only teasing him, and played along with your little game. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You're a terrible driver and you should never be allowed behind the wheel of a car again.”

He paused for a moment and then continued in a more playful tone. “And don't act so dramatic. I scolded you because you scratched my car, not because I don't love you anymore. Idiot.”

“Hmph! Now I’m idiot, not lovely wife anymore.”

Ghost let out a soft sigh and shook his head in mock irritation. “You know I was just messing with you. You're still my lovely wife, even if you're a terrible driver and an idiot sometimes.”

He glanced over at you and saw the teasing glint in your eyes, knowing that you were just having fun. “But seriously, don't scratch my car again. I'll make you walk everywhere if you do.”

“Suddenly I felt I had reason to file for divorce.”

Ghost feigned a look of shock, his eyes going wide under his mask. He was clearly playing along with your teasing, enjoying your playful banter. He reached over and poked you gently in the side, his touch playful. “You wouldn't dare. Don't even think about it. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

“Then let me drive, I want to scratch it.”

Ghost let out a scoff and shook his head, his tone still playful but slightly incredulous. “Absolutely not. You are not touching the wheel. I don't want to end up in a ditch somewhere because of your crappy driving.”

He continued to drive, his eyes focused on the road, but a small smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “Nice try, though. I know how much you enjoy pushing my buttons.”

“Oops, you found me.” You chuckled playfully.

Ghost chuckled softly, his amusement clear in his voice. He paused for a moment and then continued in a more serious tone. “Oh, I know you well enough by now to know when you're trying to stir trouble. But seriously, no driving for you. Stick to being a passenger princess.”

“Alright alright. Please call me Princess Mactavish. Hm~if you huh, Knight Riley.”

Ghost chuckled at your request, his tone somewhat amused. “Princess Mactavish and Knight Riley, huh? Sounds like a fairy tale.”

He reached over and gently patted your head, playing along with your little game. “And what requests does the princess have for her knight?”

“Hm~kiss me a lot and love me forever.” You blurted out happily.

Ghost chuckled softly at your request, the sound warm and affectionate. “Ah, the easiest request to fulfill.”

He took his hand off the steering wheel for a moment and reached over, gently taking your hand in his. He brought it up to his mask and planted a soft kiss on the top of your hand, his eyes meeting yours through the mask. “I promise to love you forever, Princess Mactavish.”

You felt a wave of happiness wash over you at his words, your heart swelling with love and affection. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, grateful for his promise. “And I promise to love you forever, too, Knight Riley."

Ghost felt a warm feeling spread through his chest at your words, his heart filling with a deep sense of comfort and contentment. He tightened his grip on your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze in return. “Good. Because I don't plan on letting you go anywhere.”

He paused for a moment and then continued in a more playful tone. “And if any pesky princes try to steal you away, I may have to fight them off.”

“Oh wow~ such a great knight.”

Ghost chuckled softly and shrugged his shoulders slightly, his tone playful. He turned his attention back to the road for a moment before continuing. “What can I say? I'm a man of many talents. Protecting my lovely wife from pesky princes is just another one of them. Besides, you're mine, and I'm not planning on sharing you with anyone.”

“Thanks, my lovely husband.”

Ghost chuckled softly at your words and smiled gently under his mask. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze again, his touch gentle and affectionate. “You're welcome, my lovely wife. And I won't let anyone take you away from me.”

You nodded your head in acknowledgment, knowing that he was possessive but also feeling a shiver went down your spine. The tone in his voice was always a mix of affection and command. It was like he was making sure I knew exactly where you belong. And the last sentence was almost a warning. “Yeah, I know you don't.”

You could hear the finality in his voice, no room for argument. And you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and comfort from his possessive yet caring demeanor.

The drive continued in silence for a moment, the only noise being the hum of the engine and the occasional passing cars. Then, Ghost spoke again, his tone shifting slightly. “You know, there's one thing I've been meaning to ask you.”

“What is it?” You curious about what he said.

Ghost paused for a moment, his expression remaining mostly hidden under his mask. However, his eyes gave away a hint of anticipation. “We've been married for quite some time now. And... there's something we haven't done.”

“Hm? Like what?” You kinda nervous. Wonder he’s thinking the same thing like you.

Ghost took a deep breath before speaking, his tone carefully neutral, though you could sense a hint of anticipation in his words. He paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. “I've been thinking about it for a while, and I feel like it's something we should talk about as a couple. Have you ever thought about... having children?”

“Huh?! Really?! You sure?! I thought you’re not interested in this kind of thing.”

Ghost chuckled softly at your shocked response, his mask not showing any other expression. “Yeah, I mean it. I've been thinking about it lately. And I know I may not have ever shown much interest in the idea, but lately, I've been feeling different.��

He paused for a moment, his tone growing serious. “I want to be honest with you. I used to think that having a family wasn't really in the cards for me, given my job and the dangerous lifestyle I lead. But now, I've been reconsidering.”

He took a deep breath and continued, his voice quieter this time. “I've realized that maybe I want something more than just endless missions and bloodshed. And the thought of having a family, of being a father...it's something new to me.”

He reached over and placed a hand on your knee, his touch gentle and careful. “What do you think, love?”

Suddenly you realized that he had this idea. You always thought he didn't want children. Both of you knew how dangerous each other's duties was, but lives took a big turn after you two fell in love and got married. At this moment you realized that you two would face new challenges. You took out phone from pocket to check some of your private data such as ovulation and menstrual period. “Do you busy tonight? We can try this week….no condom….”

Ghost's eyes widened under his mask at your words, his expression a mix of surprise and arousal. He hadn't expected you to bring up the idea so quickly. He nodded his head, his grip on your knee tightening slightly. “Yeah, tonight, I'm all yours.”

He couldn't help the slight huskiness in his voice, the thought of starting a family with you now more tantalizing than ever. “You've checked your cycle?”

“Yup. I am. I think this week will hit the jackpot.”

Ghost's eyes darkened with desire at your words, his mind racing with thoughts of starting a family with you. He took a deep breath to steady himself, his body already reacting to your words. He aid gruffly, his tone a mix of excitement and anticipation. “Alright then. Let's do it.”

His hand on your knee gripped you just a little harder, his touch possessive and needy. “And I promise to be very thorough tonight.”

The rest of the car ride was full of tension, both of you unable to hide your excitement about what was to come. It was as if the air around you was charged with electricity, building up the anticipation exponentially. As the car pulled into the driveway of your house, Ghost shut off the engine, the sudden silence in the cabin making the tension even more palpable. He turned to look at you, his eyes burning with desire. “Come on, love. Let's take this inside.”

Ghost got out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door for you. He took your hand and helped you out, his grip firm and possessive. As you walked towards the house, he couldn't help but steal glances at you, the mere thought of the night to come making his heart race with excitement and anticipation. Once you were both inside, he closed the door behind you with a quiet click and immediately pushed you up against the wall, his body pressing against yours.

“Take off your mask, I’m not gonna fuck with you while looking at that skull mask tonight.”

Ghost chuckled softly at your request, his tone teasing. He pulled the mask off, revealing his sharp jawline and rugged handsome face. His eyes were dark with desire, and his lips curved into a small smirk. “Is that more to your taste, love?”

“Yup. No more Lieutenant Ghost, only Simon Riley and my lovely husband.”

Ghost's expression softened slightly at your words, his tone a little more affectionate. He said, his fingers tracing gently along your cheek. “Only Simon for you, love. Your lovely husband, Simon.”

He leaned in closer, his body pressing even tighter against yours, his proximity making your heart race. “I plan to show you just how much I love you tonight.”

The heat between you was palpable as he continued to kiss your neck, his touch growing more urgent with each passing moment. His hands roamed your body, one resting on your hip and the other gently caressing the sensitive skin of your stomach. It was a teasing touch, one that both aroused you and drove you insane with anticipation. He leaned in closer and whispered huskily in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Are you ready, love?”

“Ha—yes. I’m ready.” You moan softly.

Ghost chuckled softly at your readiness, his tone thick with desire. His hands gripping your hips as he began to guide you towards the bedroom. The air was electric with anticipation as he led you into the room, his eyes never leaving your body. Once you were inside, he closed the door behind you, shutting out the outside world. The bedroom was lit by soft, flickering candlelight, creating a sensual atmosphere.

Ghost walked you over to the bed and gently pushed you down, guiding you to lie on your back. He stood over you, his eyes roaming over your body with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. He began to undress, his moves slow and deliberate, giving you a full view of his toned, muscular body. As he pulled off his shirt, baring his chest, he noticed your gaze lingering on him. A cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Like what you see?”

“Oh my fucking Simon, that’s definitely awesome.” You teased him.

Ghost chuckled at your reaction, his smirk growing even cockier. He could see the desire in your eyes, and he knew he had you exactly where he wanted you. He climbed onto the bed, straddling you and pinning you beneath him. His hands traced over your body, his touch both gentle and possessive at the same time.

Ghost's smirk grew wider as he continued to touch your body, his hands mapping out every curve and contour. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice a low, sinful rumble. His lips grazed your neck, his teeth nipping gently at your sensitive skin before moving down to your collarbone. “Good. Because I plan on using every inch of it to pleasure you tonight.”

“You better do it. My lovely husband.”

Ghost let out a soft growl at your words, and his hand gripped your hip a bit tighter, the possessive gesture making your heart race. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his proximity making your body ache with desire. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yup. I’m ready.” You pressed a kiss on his lips.

He claimed your mouth with a kiss, his tongue delving inside, tasting and exploring every inch of you. It was a kiss that was both demanding and possessive, a reminder of just who you belonged to. Ghost's hands roamed your body, his touch both gentle and possessive as he explored, his fingers tracing a path of fire across your skin. He broke the kiss, his lips moving down to your neck, leaving a trail of biting kisses along your sensitive skin.

He continued to kiss and bite your neck, hands gripping your hips, his touch both possessive and gentle. He moved down to your shoulder, his lips leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses along the way. His body was pressed against yours, the feel of his muscular chest and stomach against your skin making your body ache with desire. He lifted his head again, his eyes dark and burning with lust.

“I love you, Simon.” You moan softly and said.

Ghost's expression softened slightly at your words, his tone becoming more affectionate. He leaned in and captured your lips in a slow, tender kiss, his mouth worshipping yours. His hands caressed your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. “I love you too, love. My lovely wife.”

The times flew away and the sun was setting on the sky. Ghost stirred from sleep, his eyes heavy as he slowly awoke. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the soft light of the early morning sunlight filtering through the curtains. He shifted his weight on the bed, his body still feeling the aftereffects of a long, passionate night with you. He turned his head to look at you, a contented smile on his lips at the sight of you still asleep beside him.

“Mm…mhm. Morning….” You mumbling softly.

Ghost chuckled softly at your groggy response, his smile growing. He stroked your hair again, his hand gentle as he caressed your scalp. “Good morning, love. How'd you sleep?”

“Good, it’s so fucking wonderful.” You yawned and leaned forward to press a kiss on his lips.

Ghost smiled again at your response, his heart warming at the sight of you still half-asleep and rumpled from the night before. He reached out and ran a hand down your bare back, his touch both possessive and gentle. “Did I wear you out last night?”

“A little. But it’s a great moment.” You nuzzled him.

Ghost chuckled softly at your words, his touch growing firmer as he continued to run his hand down your back. His voice dropping an octave lower. “You were pretty spectacular yourself last night, love.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin. “Ready for a shower, my lovely wife?”

“Do you mind carrying me? My legs are sore. Yesterday night ride you, my muscles are numb.”

Ghost chuckled at your request, his expression both amused and affectionate. “Of course I don’t mind.”

He slid out of bed and picked you up in one easy motion, supporting you in his arms as he carried you towards the bathroom. He teased lightly, his arms holding you securely. “You really wore yourself out last night, oh my lovely wife.”

“You’re a soldier, I’m a medic. Don’t expect a medic’s stamina can win over you. Oh! So tell me, my lovely husband. Our first baby you wish it’s a boy or girl?” You pecking his cheek and asking him.

Ghost paused for a moment, his expression growing thoughtful as he considered your question. “I don’t really care. I know this might sound cheesy, but all I really want is a healthy baby – a chance to start a family with you.”

He looked at you, his eyes warm and affectionate. “But if you’re asking my preference, then I guess I wouldn’t mind a little girl with your eyes and your stubbornness.”

“Holy shit. A skull mask lieutenant with a baby girl. Little princess’s daddy huh.”

Ghost chuckled at your words, the image you painted obviously amusing to him. He stepped closer to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips again. He said with a hint of sarcasm. “Yeah, the Lieutenant, the big bad boogeyman of the 141, reduced to being a daddy of a cute little princess.”

You chuckled then pressed his lips with a kiss. Ghost responded to your kiss, his arms tightening around you as he deepened it. His mouth claimed yours in a kiss that was both possessive and demanding, his tongue exploring and tasting you with a hunger that betrayed his need for you. One of his hands moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he angled your head for better access, his other hand pressing firmly against the small of your back, holding your body flush against his.

The next few month, you were as busy as usual at the Task 141 base. At lunchtime, you took the tray and went to pick out the food. Suddenly felt unwell had the urge to vomit. You immediately threw away the tray, covered mouth and ran into the toilet to vomit.

Ghost was in the commissary when he noticed your sudden change in demeanor. He saw the expression on your face, the way you suddenly went pale, and knew something was wrong. Without a second thought, he was on his feet and moving in your direction, following as you rushed towards the bathroom. He was there waiting by the time you reached the toilet, concern written all over his face. “Love. Are you alright?”

“Fucking hell…today is already third time.” You washed your face and wiped it with handkerchiefs.

Then realization dawned on him. He remembered the signs, the sudden nausea, your paler than usual complexion. He knelt down beside you, his hand moving to gently brush the hair back from your face. He trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is it…is it possible that you’re…?”

“Eh? You mean that thing?” You tilted your head pointed your stomach.

Ghost nodded silently, his gaze locked on your face. The thought had crossed his mind before, but he had pushed it aside, not wanting to get his hopes up. But now, seeing you in this condition, it seemed like more than just a possibility. He reached out and took one of your hands in his, his touch gentle and possessive. “Have you... Have you taken a test?”

“Not yet…I'll go to the infirmary to get tested. You go to training first, I'll let you know if there's any news.”

Ghost was reluctant to let you go, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. He had a protective streak in him a mile wide, and the idea of you being unwell and him not being there for you made him uneasy. But he knew you were strong, capable, the badass medic he knew and loved. He nodded reluctantly. “Alright. But you promise to let me know as soon as you know something, alright? Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Roger, Lieutenant Ghost.” You salute playfully.

You went back to the infirmary and dug out a few pregnancy test sticks that you had prepared earlier. You held them tightly and began to doubt yourself. Could it really work this time? You ran into the toilet and started testing, waiting for the results of the pregnancy test sticks.

Your hands trembled slightly as you clutched the test sticks, your heart thudding in your chest. This was it. The moment you had been hoping for, praying for, for so long. The minutes ticked by, each agonizingly slow second feeling like an eternity. Finally, you couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t bear the anticipation any longer. With trembling fingers, you picked up the first test stick and waited for the result.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you watched the test stick, the wait excruciating. And then, almost as if in slow motion, the results started to appear. Positive. Your eyes widened, your heart nearly stopped. A wave of emotions washed over you, relief, joy, disbelief, excitement. Tears welled up in your eyes as you grabbed the second test stick with trembling hands.

And again, positive. The same result. No mistaking it, no denying it. You were pregnant. You clutched the test sticks to your chest, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the moment. You were filled with a fierce sense of protectiveness, a fierce love for the tiny life growing inside you. You had to find Ghost. You had to tell him. “Fucking hell…finally. God damn it. Took us so long. Finally Ghost can be a father…”

You could barely control your emotions as you raced through the base, your thoughts racing just as fast as your legs. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and disbelief, your heart swelling with joy. You had waited for this moment for so long, and now that it was here, it felt surreal. You finally reached the training ground, scanning the area for Ghost. And then you spotted him, his broad shoulders and strong presence immediately catching your eye.

You also saw Price standing next to him talking about something. You walked forward holding the pregnancy test stick hidden behind you , and you cleared your throat to attract their attention.

Ghost's head whipped around as soon as he heard the sound of your cough, his face immediately lighting up when he saw you approaching. But the way you were holding your hand behind your back, the secretive expression on your face, made him curious. And he could tell something was up. He turned towards you, his expression a mix of curiosity and something that looked an awful lot like hope. “What’s that you’ve got there, love?”

Price turned, too, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed the same secretiveness that Ghost did. A faint smirk played on his lips, as if he was already guessing what was going on. “What are you hiding, medic?”

“Something happened. I’m pregnant. We really did succeed this time, Ghost.” You blurted out.

Ghost’s expression immediately softened, a look of almost disbelieving joy spreading across his face. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed speechless. He took a step towards you, his arms reaching out to pull you into a tight embrace. “You’re pregnant? Really? My lovely wife pregnant?”

Price, standing nearby, let out a loud whoop, a huge grin on his face. He teased, poking Ghost in the shoulder. “Finally, eh, Ghost?”

Ghost pulled back slightly, his gaze fixated on the test sticks you held out to him. His fingers trembled as he gently took them from your hand, his expression filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief. He turned them over in his hands, his eyes scanning the results, as if he was afraid he was dreaming.

Price stepped closer, peering over Ghost’s shoulder at the test sticks. His voice filled with both doubt but more of excitement. “Damn, you’re not pulling my leg, are you?"

“Fucking hell. We really succeeded this time! Ghost!”

Ghost set the test sticks down and pulled you into his arms, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around in a tight, overjoyed embrace. He held you against him, his body trembling with emotion. He rasped, his voice filled with wonder and awe. “We did it! We did it, love. You're carrying our child."

Price chuckled, watching the two of you with a grin on his face. “Looks like the 141 is getting a new recruit.”

“Seriously? Captain, a baby you want to recruit too?!”

Price chuckled heartily, his eyes shining with amusement at your words. He paused, then gave a wink. His voice playful. “Imagine the possibilities. Tiny recruits, following orders in their little uniform...”

“Sounds like chaos. But…I guess 141 will have headaches, don’t mind my pregnancy symptoms.”

Ghost chuckled, his arms still around you, holding you close. “Don't worry, love. I'll handle any headaches, and I'll take care of you and the little one.”

Price joined in again, his tone still teasing. He said, nodding sagely. “Us seasoned 141 members can handle anything. Including pregnant medics.”

“Hahahaha. Thanks. So, my lovely husband Ghost. New adventures are coming soon.”

Ghost's expression softened even more, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity. He held you tight, his arms encircling you protectively as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Indeed. New adventures, new challenges. But we'll face them together. You and me, and our little one.”

Price, standing nearby, couldn’t help but add his own two cents. “Hahahah. Better start getting used to less sleep, Ghost.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at Price's words, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. He said sarcastically. “Thanks for the reminder, Captain. As if I wasn't already preparing for a lifetime of sleepless nights.”

Price chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. He said, his tone mock-serious. “Just warning you, son. Babies are noisy. And they never sleep when you do.”

“Hahaha. Alright alright, guys. Don’t say anything negative that will make me regret having a baby.” Ghost and Price exchanged glances after your words, their expressions immediately sobering.

Ghost shook his head vehemently. He said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. “No regrets. Not a single one. This is a blessing, love. Our little miracle.”

Price nodded in agreement, his expression serious. “Ghost is right. This is a wonderful thing you're doing. Bringing life into the world...it's the most important job there is.”

“Hahaha. Guess my responsibility increased when I had a baby. Oh! Soap definitely will happy! His nephew or niece is coming.”

Soap appeared as if on cue, sauntering into the conversation with a cocky grin on his face. He drawled, his Scottish accent thick and unapologetic. “Did I hear my name?”

Price chuckled, turning to Soap. He said, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Your ears are still sharp, son. Speaking of which, you have some news to hear.”

“Hwah! Jeez! Oh, since my lovely brother is here. Ghost and I have something to tell you.”

Price couldn't help but chuckle at Soap's eagerness. Soap's ears perked up at Ghost's words, his expression going from cocky to curious. He asked, his voice tinged with excitement. “Oh yeah? What’s this important news you’re sharing with me, Ghost?”

Ghost took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Soap's. His voice filled with a mix of awe and wonder. “We’re having a baby.”

Soap's eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open. He stood there speechless for a moment, as if trying to process the news. And then, his face broke out into a huge grin, his eyes sparkling with joy and excitement. He exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine happiness. “Are you serious? That’s amazing news!”

“Yup. We have a baby, you will be uncle soon.” You pointed at your stomach and laughed.

Soap's grin widened even more, his face lighting up with happiness. He exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement. “I'm going to be an uncle? Bloody hell, that's brilliant!”

He turned to Ghost and clasped him on the shoulder, his grip tight. He said, his tone filled with genuine enthusiasm. “Congratulations, mate! You’re gonna be a dad!”

Ghost nodded, his expression softened by a genuine smile. His voice filled with gratitude. “Thanks, Soap. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself.”

Price, standing nearby, chuckled at the reaction from Soap, his eyes filled with amusement. He said, his tone lighthearted. “Looks like this 141 family is expanding. I wonder how the little one will handle all the excitement around here.”

Nine months later, your voice of pain and crying could be heard in the delivery room because the baby was being born. Ghost paced back and forth outside the delivery room, his heart pounding with anticipation and a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He could hear your voice, filled with pain and exertion, and he wanted nothing more than to be by your side, to hold your hand and offer whatever comfort he could.

Soap stood nearby, his expression a mix of anxiety and excitement. He clasped Ghost on the shoulder, trying to offer some reassurance. “It’ll be fine, mate. Just a few more hours, and you’ll be holding your little one in your arms.”

Ghost nodded, trying to take deep breaths to steady himself. The wait was excruciating, and he couldn't help but worry about you and the baby. He knew childbirth was difficult, knew it was painful, and he wanted to do anything he could to ease your suffering.

Price standing nearby, couldn't help but chime in as well, his tone filled with his usual sarcasm. He said, a smirk on his face. “Hang in there, Ghost. You're in for a world of chaos now.”

Finally, your voice had quieted down a lot, and a baby girl's cry came from the delivery room. You collapsed on the hospital bed, holding your newborn baby girl in your arms. You were very tired and at a loss as to how to comfort her. You felt so helpless that couldn't help crying with her. “Nonono…Freya…what should I do..?”

Ghost rushed into the room, his heart pounding with worry and excitement. He saw you, exhausted and overwhelmed, holding your newborn baby girl in your arms, tears streaming down your face.

He crossed the room in a heartbeat, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside you. He reached out a trembling hand, gently stroking your hair, trying to soothe you. He whispered, his voice soft and comforting. “Shhh...it’s okay. Don’t cry, love. You’re doing great.”

“I don’t know how to do? Freya kept crying…”

Ghost's expression softened, his heart swelling with love and concern for you. He gently took the baby from your arms, cradling her against his chest. He said, his voice soft and soothing. “It's alright. Babies cry. It's the only way they can communicate.”

He slowly rocked the baby back and forth, gently shushing her, his touch tender and caring. He repeated, rocking her gently. “Shhh...it’s okay. Daddy’s here. Daddy’s here…”

The baby gradually calmed, her crying diminishing to soft hiccups and gurgles. Ghost smiled, his expression filled with a mixture of wonder and amazement. “See? It just takes a bit of patience and some gentle shushing.”

Price and Soap stood nearby, their own expressions filled with a mix of amusement and affection. Soap teased, a cheeky grin on his face. “Who knew the mighty Ghost would be a natural at this dad thing.”

You’re still crying after you feel the pain and loss. After the baby girl stopped crying, you wiped away your tears and catch the breath again. Ghost’s attention shifted back to you, his expression filled with concern and love. He could see the tears streaming down your face, the exhaustion and pain you were experiencing.

He carefully handed the baby to Soap, who held her with a look of wonder on his face, and turned back to you. He sat back down beside you, taking your hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You did great, love. You brought a beautiful little girl into this world. You were amazing.”

You couldn't bear it anymore, you threw yourself into his arms and cried. The pain of pregnancy and the helplessness of the baby's cry almost made you despair. Ghost wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his touch gentle and comforting.

He could feel your body trembling, the tears soaking his shirt, and his heart ached with sympathy and understanding. He held you tight, rocking you slowly from side to side, his voice soft in your ear. “You’re okay. You’re okay. You did great, love. You did great.”

“Thanks…Simon. I’m scared when Freya crying.”

Ghost's expression softened, understanding your fear and helplessness. He held you tighter, his grip strong and reassuring. His voice tender. “It’s alright to be scared, love. Being a parent is frightening. But you don’t have to be scared alone. I’m here for you, and so is Soap and Price. We’re family. We’ll figure this parenting thing out together.”

“I know…but I’m still panicked when she cried.”

Ghost caressed your cheek gently, his touch gentle and soothing. He could see the worry and exhaustion in your eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to ease your mind. “Don’t worry. You’re doing great. You brought a beautiful baby girl into the world. And we’ll figure everything out together.”

He pulled you closer, holding you tight against him, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting blanket. “We’re in this together, love. Me and you.”

Price and Soap watched the exchange between you and Ghost with knowing grins. They could see the love and affection between you, and they were both happy to see their comrades finding such contentment and happiness. Price, in his gruff way, chimed in with a sly comment. “Alright, you two lovebirds. Get a room.”

“Oh come on! I’m just finished, give me a break.”

Price chuckled, his expression filled with devilish amusement. He teased. “Ah, come on. You can't blame me for being envious. Ghost gets to be a dad now, and I'm still stuck as the old, grumpy Captain.”

Soap chuckled at Price's comment, unable to resist joining in the banter. Soap chimed in, his tono mock serious. “Don't worry, Captain. You can be the fun uncle. Spoil the kid rotten and give them sweets before bedtime.”

“My lovely brother, hand over my daughter.”

Soap grinned, his expression filled with mock indignation. He protested, his tone light and playful. “Ah, little sister, I thought I could hold my niece for a bit longer?”

Price chuckled, shaking his head at Soap's antics. He said, patting Soap on the shoulder. “Alright, alright, give the girl her daughter back.”

Soap reluctantly handed the baby back to you, his expression filled with a mixture of reluctance and affection. You stroked her cheek and smiled. “Hey, Freya. Mommy’s here…”

Your baby girl looked up at you with wide eyes, her expression curious and innocent. She gurgled softly, her little hands reaching out towards you. Ghost watched the scene with a heart filled with love and affection. Seeing you holding your baby girl, the bond between mother and child so strong and immediate, made his heart swell with pride and joy.

He stood by your side, his hand resting gently on your shoulder, watching as you cooed to your baby girl, your voice filled with love and tenderness. Soap and Price stood nearby, their expressions softened by the scene unfolding in front of them. Soap had a warm smile on his face, and even Price had a hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

Soap couldn't help but chime in, his tone filled with affectionate teasing. “Look at you, little sis. Already a natural at this mom thing.”

Six years later, late one night, at Ghost's home. Ghost hasn't come back from the base yet, Freya and you are the only ones left at home. You are sleeping in the upstairs bedroom, and Freya suddenly woke up in the downstairs bedroom. Ghost quietly entered the house, closing the front door behind him with a soft click. He was just returning from the base, still clad in his tactical gear and balaclava.

As he walked towards the living room, he heard the sound of soft footsteps coming down the stairs. He looked up and saw his little girl, Freya, standing at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes wide with surprise as she saw him in his balaclava for the first time.

Ghost froze, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the fear and confusion etched on his little girl's face. He hadn't expected her to wake up at this late hour. He quickly realized that he must have looked intimidating to her, with his face covered and his body in tactical gear. He took a slow step towards her, his voice soft and gentle. “Hey, sweetie. It's just me, daddy.”

But Freya backed away, her eyes still wide with fear, her little body trembling. She had never seen her dad looking like this before, and the sight of him was clearly unsettling her. Ghost felt a pang of worry and concern in his chest. He knew he had to find a way to reassure her, to show her that he was still her dad, despite his appearance. He crouched down, making himself smaller and less intimidating.

You are sleeping soundly when suddenly heard a loud cry and scream. It was Freya. You opened the drawer, took out a gun and loaded it, then ran to downstairs. As soon as you got downstairs, Freya ran to hide behind you, hugged your legs and cried. You pointed your gun forward without hesitation. “You son of bitch—eh?! Simon?!”

Ghost held up his hands in surprise, his balaclava still covering his face. He looked at the gun in your hand, then at Freya hiding behind you, her little arms wrapped tightly around your legs. He said, his voice low and urgent. “Love, put the gun down. It's just me. I just came back from the base.”

“Shit. Oh, sorry. I thought someone kidnapped Freya. Jeez, I’m glad that I didn’t pulled the trigger or else your head would be hurt. I’ll put down the gun.”

Ghost watched as you slowly lowered the gun, your hand trembling slightly. He could see the realization and relief washing over your face, as you finally recognized him. He took another step closer, his expression gentle and reassuring. “It's alright. There was no need to shoot me.”

He looked down at Freya, who was still hiding behind you, her little arms wrapped tightly around your legs. You coaxed your daughter gently. “Freya, he’s not gonna hurt you. Daddy is here, he’s just covering his face because his work.”

Freya peaked her head out from behind you, her eyes locked on Ghost's masked face. She looked scared and uncertain, her little body still trembling.

Ghost crouched down to her level, trying to make himself smaller and less intimidating. He slowly reached up and pulled the balaclava off his face, revealing his familiar features. “See? It's just me, sweetie. It's just daddy.”

Freya's eyes widened as she saw her dad's face, her confusion giving way to recognition. The fear slowly faded from her expression, replaced by relief and comfort. She hesitated for a moment, still clinging to your leg, before slowly letting go and taking a tentative step towards Ghost.

Ghost held out his hand to her, his expression warm and encouraging. “Come here, sweetie.”

Freya hesitantly stepped forward, her little hand reaching out towards Ghost's hand. He took her hand in his, his grip gentle and reassuring. He guided her towards him, sitting down on the floor as he pulled her into his lap. “Daddy's here. There's no need to be scared.”

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his chest. Freya buried her face in his chest, her little body trembling with lingering fear and surprise. Ghost held her close, rubbing her back gently, trying to soothe her. He could feel her heartbeat slowly returning to normal, the tension in her body easing as she felt the safety and warmth of his embrace.

“Well, first experience Freya with your mask on.” You couldn’t help it and teasing him playfully.

Ghost chuckled softly, his expression filled with fondness. He said, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “Yeah, I suppose it was a bit of a shocker for her.”

He looked down at his daughter, who was still clinging to him tightly, her face buried in his chest. He joked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “It seems like maybe I should start wearing my mask around the house more often.”

“Jeez. Fucking nononono. No, I can’t kiss your sexy lips, and Freya can’t clinging you.” You pinched his cheek, your voice tone like warning.

Ghost chuckled again, amused by your reaction. He said, his voice teasing. “Well, I wouldn't want to sacrifice the kissing or the cuddling.”

He looked down at his daughter, who was still clinging to him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “And I suppose this little one wouldn't appreciate it if daddy was always covered up either. She needs to see my handsome face sometimes.”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his words, your own expression softening at the sight of Ghost holding his daughter so gently in his arms. “Yeah, I don't think she'd like it very much if she couldn't see her daddy's face all the time either.”

Ghost looked up at you, his expression warm and affectionate. He asked, his voice low and playful. “And you, love? Would you miss my handsome face if I kept the balaclava on more often?”

“Hahaha. I’m not gonna asked you to take it off. I’m just gonna kick your ass and ripped the balaclava out. Oh! Freya, you okay now?”

Freya had finally stopped crying, her little sobs turning into hiccups as she slowly calmed down. She lifted her head from her dad's chest, her tears still staining her cheeks. She looked up at you, her expression a mix of fear and confusion, before looking back at Ghost. She said in a small voice. “Daddy?”

Ghost smiled gently at her, his expression softening. He replied, his voice gentle and warm. “Yes, sweetie?”

Freya's little hand reached up to touch his face, her expression filled with awe and curiosity. She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “You're not a bad guy?”

Ghost's expression turned solemn, his heart filling with sadness at her words. He knew she had been scared of him when she saw him in his balaclava, and he understood why. He shook his head softly, his voice tender. “No, sweetie. I'm not a bad guy. I'm your daddy.”

“Freya, it’s your daddy, truly.” You continue coaxing her, you pressed a kiss on Freya’s forehead then Simon’s cheek.

Freya looked up at you, her little hand still touching Ghost's cheek. She seemed to be processing what you had said, trying to make sense of the situation.

Ghost looked at her, his expression filled with tenderness and love. He reached up to gently grab her little hand, holding it in his much larger one. He placed a gentle kiss on her small fingers. “It's true, sweetie. I am your daddy, and I would never hurt you.”

Freya looked at him, her expression still etched with a hint of fear and confusion. But slowly, she seemed to be softening, her little body relaxing in his arms.

She looked down at their hands, her small fingers clutching his tightly. She asked, her voice a small whisper. “Promise?”

Ghost's expression turned gentle and reassuring. He took her little chin in his hand, tilting her face up towards his. He said, his voice filled with conviction. “I promise, sweetie. I will always protect you and keep you safe. I will never, ever hurt you.”

“Ahem. Sorry for interrupting this moment. By the way, Little Freya Riley. I thought you’re sleeping? Why did you suddenly wake up?”

Ghost looked at his daughter, his expression filled with curiosity. Freya looked sheepish, her little face blushing as she looked down at her feet. She fidgeted with the hem of her pajama top, her voice small and hesitant. She mumbled, her words barely audible. “I had a bad dream.”

“Hm. Understood. Well…daddy is back today. Do you want to sleep together with us?”

Freya looked up at you, her eyes lighting up at the suggestion. She nodded eagerly, her little body still clinging to Ghost's. She replied, her voice filled with anticipation. “Yes, I want.”

Ghost chuckled, his expression softening as he looked at his little girl. He stood up, holding her close to his chest. He said, his tone affectionate. “Alright, sweetie. Let's go get you settled in bed.”

“Uh huh. Love. You shower first, take off your gear. This is home, not the war zone.” You mentioned.

Ghost chuckled at your words, his expression amused. “Aye, love. I'll go take a shower, and then I'll join you both in bed.”

He looked down at his daughter, who was still clinging to him. He could feel her little body trembling slightly, the remnants of fear from earlier still lingering. “You gonna be okay with mom for a bit, sweetie?”

“Of course she’s okay with me. She’s my daughter.”

Ghost chuckled at your response, his expression filled with affection. He said, his voice soft and warm. “I know, love. I just wanted to make sure she was alright.”

He looked down at Freya, who was looking up at him with wide, trusting eyes. He kissed the top of her head, his expression filled with love and tenderness. he asked, his voice gentle. “Be a good girl for mommy, okay?”

Freya nodded, her expression serious and determined. She replied, her voice firm. “I will, daddy.”

Ghost smiled at her, his expression filled with pride. He knew his little girl was strong and brave, just like her mother. “That's my girl. Alright, love. I'll be back soon.”

You picked up Freya, kissed her on the forehead. Then you approached Simon, you covered Freya’s eyes to shield her sight. You leaned closer to him and pressed a deep kiss lingering for a moment. After, you took her upstairs to your bedroom.

Ghost watched as you picked up their daughter, his expression amused and touched by your gesture. He chuckled softly as you covered her eyes before you leaned in and kissed him. He felt a warmth spread through his chest at the familiar sensation of your lips against his, the taste of you still as sweet as he remembered.

He watched as you took Freya upstairs, his expression softening as he saw his little girl clinging to you. He knew she was in good hands, and he would be with you shortly. Ghost stood there for a moment, his heart full and his thoughts swirling with affection for you and his daughter. He could hear your voices coming from upstairs, your soothing tone as you spoke to Freya, and her little giggles in response.

He took a deep breath, letting the tension and adrenaline from his mission release from his body. He knew he could finally relax, knowing that he was home with his family. He finally turned and walked towards the bathroom, ready to take a long and much-needed shower.

“Since daddy is showering, my little Freya come give mommy a good night kiss kiss?” Your cheeks nuzzling her cheeks as you want your daughter little kiss.

Freya's eyes lit up at your request, her little face breaking into a wide smile. She exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement. “Kiss kiss!”

She wriggled out of your arms, her little legs wobbling slightly as she stood on her own. She took a few steps towards you, her expression filled with anticipation. She leaned forward, her little hands bracing on your shoulders for support, and planted a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

You pressed a kiss on her forehead. Then opened the bedroom door and settled Freya on the bed. You’re laying down beside her and covered you two with the blanket. You gently patted her to coax her sleeping.

Freya snuggled up against you, her little body tucked firmly under the covers. She closed her eyes, her expression finally relaxed and content. She wrapped her little arms around your waist, her grip loose and comfortable. She nuzzled her face against your chest, her breathing soft and steady.

As you continued to gently pat her back, you could feel her body growing heavier with each passing moment, a sure sign that she was falling into a peaceful slumber. You continued to hum the lullaby, the soft sound filling the room and creating a peaceful atmosphere. You could feel your own eyelids growing heavy, your body relaxing as you watched over your sleeping daughter.

Her little face was so peaceful and content, her expression soft and free of worry. Her little chest rose and fell with each breath, her soft, golden locks framing her delicate features. You couldn't help but smile, feeling so much love and protectiveness for this little girl who was now almost sound asleep in your arms. “Good night, my little girl.” You kiss her cheeks.

You laid there for a moment, just holding her, not wanting to disturb her peaceful slumber. Every now and then, a tiny sigh would escape her lips, and her little limbs would twitch slightly, but otherwise she remained completely still. You could hear the faint sound of water running in the bathroom, signifying that Ghost was still in the shower.

You gently poked Freya's cheek. She was completely asleep. You quietly left the bed and went to the bathroom. You opened the door and saw your naked husband drying himself after taking a shower. You take off your clothes completely naked. You wrapped your arms around him. Slowly your left hand slipped down to his down part jerking off his hot dick and whispered. “Do you want it before bed?”

Ghost's eyes widen in surprise as you suddenly appeared behind him, completely naked. His body shivered as your arms wrap around him, pulling him close. He felt your hand slowly traveling down his body, and he couldn't help but let out a small gasp as you begin to touch him, your touch soft and teasing. He looked back at you, his expression a mix of surprise and excitement. “Oh, love. You're insatiable.”

Ghost turned around, his expression intense as he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, his body pressed against yours. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and it only served to heighten his desire. “We have a little one asleep in the next room.”

“You were out on a mission with 141 for two weeks, and we didn't do it during that time. I had my needs. Don't you want to do it now?”

Ghost couldn't deny the truth in your words. It had been two long weeks since he had been away on a mission with Task Force 141. The absence of any intimate physical affection had left him feeling desperate and needy. He looked at you, his expression a mix of desire and tenderness. “Of course I want it. I craved your touch every moment I was away.”

He pulled you even closer, his body pressed tightly against yours. He could feel the heat of your skin against his, and the way your breath hitched as he touched you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling against your skin, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered again. “But we have to be quiet, love. We don't want to disturb little Freya in the next room.”

“Then shut my mouth, Lieutenant Ghost.” You kissed his bare skin and touched it to tease him.

Ghost's eyes darkened at your request, a thrill of excitement running down his spine as he looked down at you. He didn't need to be told twice. He cupped your face in his hand, tilting your head back as his lips descended upon yours in a deep, passionate kiss. His other hand pressed itself against your back, pulling you flush against his body as he let his tongue invade your mouth.

He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with eagerness and desire. He could feel the heat of your body against his, the way your breath hitched with every touch he gave you, and it drove him wild. He pushes you up against the wall, pinning you in place, his body pressed intimately against yours. And his lips never leave yours as he continues to kiss you, his lips moving forcefully and eagerly against yours, his need for you overwhelming.

He pressed his body against yours, his hardness pressing against your stomach. He groaned into your mouth, the sound filled with need and desire. His hands roam over your body, touching you anywhere and everywhere he could reach, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your body. He breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, nipping and biting at your skin as he whispers huskily in your ear. “I missed you so much, love.”

“Oh—fuck—I missed you more—“

Ghost's lips move along the line of your neck, his tongue tracing a path to your collarbone, where he nips at the sensitive skin with his teeth. He whispers hoarsely, his hands roaming over your body, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touch. “I don't think that's possible, love. I was counting the hours until I could be with you again.”

You feel he’s sucks hard on a patch of skin at the base of your neck, his intent on marking you as his own. “Fuck—ah—you—still want to compete—with me—”

Ghost chuckles against your skin, his lips moving to another spot, where he repeats the same action, leaving another mark on your body. “Always, love. I always want to compete with you, and I always want to win.”

He starts to move down your body, his lips leaving a trail of biting kisses along your collarbone, his hands reaching up to cup your breasts. “Damn—ah—you—“

Ghost chuckles again at your curse, the sound muffled against your skin as he continues his exploration of your body. He teases, his mouth moving lower still, his lips brushing over the swell of your breasts. “Language, love.”

His hands grip your sides, holding you in place as he continues to kiss and nibble at your flesh, his touch growing more urgent and possessive. Ghost's hands move down to your thighs, his fingers spreading them apart, as his kisses move lower. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, as he slowly trails his lips along your inner thigh, his mouth hovering just above where you want him most.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, as he slowly trails his lips along your inner thigh, his mouth hovering just above where you want him most. His breath is hot against your skin, and you can feel the tension coiled in his body like a tightly wound spring. He whispers, his voice low and rough. “I've been thinking about this since I left. I can't wait to taste you, love.”

Ghost grins, his lips ghosting over your sensitive flesh. His tongue flicking out to taste your skin. He can feel the way you shiver, how your body responds to his touch, and it only encourages him to tease you further. His hands slide up your thighs, gripping you tightly as he moves closer to your core. “I'm going to make you feel so good.”

“Fuck—ah—Fuck me now, I can't wait—“

Ghost's eyes darken with desire at your plea, his body responding to your neediness. He looks up at you, his expression hungry, before he rises to his feet. He grabs your hips, turning you around to face the wall. He pushes your body against the wall, pinning you in place as he presses himself tightly against your back. His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts, and his mouth moves to your ear. “Are you ready for me, oh my lovely wife?”

“Yes—ah—“ You moan softly.

Ghost's hands move down your body, his fingers trailing over your skin, as he positions himself behind you. He leans over your body, his chest and stomach pressed firmly against your back. He presses his hardness against your core, his body quivering with anticipation, as he grips your hips tightly. Ghost's breath catches in his throat at your words, his body responding to your eagerness. He lines himself up with your entrance, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

His words send a shiver down your spine, your anticipation growing even more intense. You take a deep breath, feeling his hands on your hips, as he starts to push into you slowly and gently. You breathe out, unable to stop the words from escaping your lips. “Ah—Ghost—“

Ghost shudders at the sound of his name on your lips, his body trembling with desire. His mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder blade. He begins to move, his hips rocking gently against yours as he pushes further into you. He whispers, his voice ragged and rough. “You feel so good, love.”

Ghost's body presses against your back, his movements growing more urgent and desperate. His words almost lost in the sound of your combined gasps and moans. He pushes into you harder, his fingers digging into your hips as he struggles to control himself. His movements become rougher, more demanding, as if he's trying to make up for the time he was gone.

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your breath coming in short gasps as you cling onto him for support. He leans in, his chest pressed against your back, his breath hot against your ear.

“Yes—yes!—“ You gasp out, your body trembling with pleasure. You manage to say, barely coherent as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You plead, your words half-gasps and half-whimpers.

“I won't stop—not until you come apart for me—“ He whispers and his hot breath on your bare skins.

You gasp, your words a desperate plea. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending alive and buzzing with pleasure. You manage to say. “Don't hold back—I want all of you, Ghost.”

“I—I can't—“ He gasps again, his body on the edge.

“You make me-I-“ His words are lost as he finally comes undone, his body shuddering as Waves of pleasure washes over him. He holds onto you tightly, his breath ragged and uneven as he tries to catch his breath. His body is covered in a sheen of sweat, his muscles quivering with exertion.

He breathes, his voice soft and tender. “Ha—Damn it—I love you, love. So fucking love you.”

“Ha—I love you too—“ You feel Ghost collapses against you, his body spent and boneless, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly against him, as he tries to catch his breath.

He whispers, his voice filled with affection and admiration. “You're incredible, love. I don't know how I survived two weeks without you.”

“Hahaha. Let's clean it up. Today Freya sleeps with us, I don't want she wake up and not find us.”

Ghost chuckles, his breath still a little ragged. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin for a moment, before he pulls away reluctantly. “Fair enough. Let's go take a quick shower, then we can check on Freya.”

As you and Ghost make your way to the shower, you can't help but feel a deep sense of contentment and peace settling over you. The water cascading over your bodies is warm and soothing. You wash each other off, your touch tender and gentle. Ghost's hands roam over your body, his touch possessive and caring. He washes your hair, massaging your scalp with his fingers, as he presses soft kisses to your neck.

You return the favor, your own hands gliding over his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles, and the scars that mar his body. You wash away the stress and tension that had been building up for the past two weeks, replaced by a deep sense of comfort and intimacy. Ghost pulls you close, his body pressed against yours, as he whispers words of love and reassurance into your ear.

By the time you finish washing up, the steam in the bathroom is thick and hazy. You and Ghost step out of the shower, wrapping yourselves in towels, as you make your way to the bedroom.

As you enter the room, you can see that Freya is still asleep, her small body curled up under the covers. “Huff. Lucky our noises didn’t wake her up.”

Ghost smiles, his gaze shifting to the sleeping child. He crosses the room and sits down on the edge of the bed, his knees touching the mattress. “Yeah, she's a heavy sleeper. You go get dressed, love. I'll keep an eye on her.”

“Alright. You can sleep first. You haven't slept with her for two weeks. Both of you must be miss each other.”

Ghost's expression softens at your words. He looks down at the sleeping child beside him, a mixture of affection and guilt crossing his face. He admits, his voice low. “I missed her so much.”

He reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair away from her forehead, his touch tender and gentle. he adds, looking up at you with a soft smile. “But I missed you too. More than I thought I would.”

“Hehehe. Get your sexy body lying down and stay with her. I'll get dressed and come join with you two.”

Ghost nods, giving you a small smile. He crawls into the bed, pulling the covers over him as he settles in beside Freya. She shifts a little in her sleep, her small body seeking the warmth and comfort of her father. Ghost wraps his arm around her, his hand resting gently on her back as he watches her sleep.

You head into the bathroom, quickly drying off and getting dressed. When you return to the bedroom, you find Ghost and Freya asleep. Ghost is on his back, his arm still draped over Freya, who is snuggled up against his side. They look peaceful and content, their faces relaxed in sleep. “Hehehe. This father and daughter are so cute.”

Ghost's head is turned towards Freya, his face softened in sleep. You can hear the steady sound of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest as he keeps his arm wrapped protectively around her. Freya is cuddled up against him, her small body pressed against his side.

You walk over and stand beside the bed, a soft smile on your face as you watch the sleeping pair. “Guess tonight my little girl sleeps in the middle huh. What a cutie pie.”

You climb into bed, slipping in carefully on the other side of Ghost, trying not to disturb the sleeping pair. Ghost stirs a little at your movement, but he doesn't wake up. Instead, he shifts a little, pulling you closer to him, his arm draping over your body as he settles back into his sleep. Freya is sandwiched between you and Ghost, her small body nestled in the middle, as she continues to sleep peacefully.

You smile as you feel the weight of Ghost's arm around you, his touch a familiar and comforting presence even in sleep. As you lie there, watching the sleeping pair, you realize that this moment of peace and contentment is exactly what you need. The stress and tension of the past few weeks fade away, replaced by a sense of safety and contentment. You close your eyes, feeling the warm presence of Ghost behind you, and the sweet breath of Freya against your chest.

“Good night. My love, my little Freya.”

The End 🖤♥️

[dearlyd3parted]

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🕸️syp: Mark Lee is many things; A 2nd year college student, A stressed Stark Industries intern, Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, and also your childhood friend. He's also a secret fifth thing, a loser hopeless romantic who's been in love with you for years. Due to his inexperience, it takes him two failed attempts at a confession until the third is finally a charm. 🕸️mark lee x fem!reader - (127 centered) biggest idiots in love u will ever read 🕸️feat: a bit of nct dream, xiaojun from wayv, and yunjin from lsrfm cause mother 🕸️word count: total 26.2k 🕸️warnings: some profanity (mark is very stressed ok), descriptions of injuries (blood, cuts, bruises), light angst, mostly just misunderstandings and such, brief mention of smoking, eventual smut 🕸️authors note: ok i genuinely had so much fun writing this one i love mark so much and i live to push the spidermark agenda. i don't follow any exact mcu plot. just inspired more heavily by tom holland cinmenatic universe! also he has glasses in this fic, i know canonically spiderman has perfect vision but idc i have a nerd agenda to push ;p i've only proofread once, so pls bear with any typos. to my current followers who were waiting on me to post, i spent a lot of time on this one so that is why content is delayed, but i hope it makes up for it! im doing more piwon next! i really like this one and hope u do too. pls reblog and like and follow for more ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ 🕸️chapter index: chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 tags🏷:

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷: 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚢 - wc: 8.3k

Mark Lee has always been sure of his identity.

It seems that since birth he has had a very firm grasp on himself, what his personality is like, what he wanted in his future, what he wanted in the very moment. Mark has never been a mystery to him.

When he was in the 6th grade, he knew he was a buzzing personality. He knew he was a jokester, always smiling, always laughing, even when the moment didn't call for it. He knew that he loved to talk about anything, really. He could spend hours talking an unsuspecting classmate's ear off about his favorite subjects (math and english, never science), the video game he just played, or some cool new thing one of his favorite superheroes did.

However, because of his...as one would put it in kind terms, passion for life and anything that excited him slightly, he had a hard time making friends. Sure, he had some, the same handful of guys who had been perpetually stuck with each other since elementary school, but making new ones was the problem.

It was at that point that Mark realized he is also a people pleaser from time to time. Especially at 12 years old when everyone is dying to fit in. So, in order to get some of his peers to find him...not annoying, he tried to mimic their personalities.

Mark amped up the snarky-ness and the sassiness, changed his look to what could best replicate what was popular at the time, and started talking about Tony Stark maybe 30% less (That really was the best he could do).

And surprisingly....it worked. For a bit there, he was thinking he might slowly climb his way up from whimsical nerd to just some dude. God, he wanted to be just some dude so badly.

Then one day he saw you.

You sat alone on the end of a lunch table, a pizza lunchable in front of you as you clicked away on your DSI, seemingly playing...Pokémon? Of course, adorned with a Star Wars backpack sat right next to you. He shuddered a bit at the sight, but not negatively. He just really wished that was him instead of what he was currently doing, trailing behind the kids who play basketball after school with an immense 'cool kid' vibe to them.

Mark took immediate note at how they snickered at you, the word nerd being thrown around being most obviously about you. As he gripped onto his tray, a sly smile masking an internal panic on his face, he figured it was a perfect time to prove himself as he followed his pack leaders.

Mark cleared his throat as he approached you, ready to strike. "Nice backpack, Young Jedi." He snickered, his voice as condescending as he could make it out to be when addressing a really cool backpack.

You paused your game with a swiftness, swiveling around to look at him, not an ounce of offense on your face. Without a beat, your deadbeat expression bounced back.

"Nice bowl cut, loser.”

Needless to say, Mark didn’t make the cut for just some dude. He would be staying a talkative and giggly nerd for a while, he was sure of that fact about himself. He knew that was him. It was okay, though, because he didn’t want friends who he couldn't be himself around. After that whole facade, he knew he wasn’t the nonchalant cool guy he tried to resonate with.

He also knew that after a thorough and heavy apology his friend Taeyong had made him give you, he had just met someone who he resonated with a lot more.

He knew he was your new friend.

(To which you only agreed because of his Captain America themed backpack. Besides, your jab at his bowl cut that truly was awful made it even.)

A year later, he was certain that you were his best friend. Maybe it was a bit selfish that he had so many best friends, you including his flock of seven other boys who had just become stuck to each other.

But…there was something different about you. Like you were his ultra best friend, if thats a thing. After the initial awkwardness of your first meeting, the friendship only soared. Helping each other with homework, rewatching ‘Star Wars: Revenge of The Sith’ for the 30th time, fangirling over Tony Stark and the avengers. He never thought he would meet a girl that understood him so well, and in turn who he understood, too.

Until the 7th grade, he couldn’t quite place what it was that was so different. You were integrated into his group of friends, he didn’t treat you any differently and you didn’t with him. Yet, for some reason, he was happier when you were around, and even happier when it was only the two of you.

His heart was a mixture of things every time he made a joke and you laughed because of him. It had also dawned on him that even if you and him had your many similarities, you were still more reserved and cautious when it came to other people. Despite that, you seemed comfortable around him, enough to confide in him and share whatever you wanted to.

So, when you confided in him tearfully that the boy you had wanted to attend the spring formal with was going with another girl, as your best friend he decided to step in and take you himself to cheer you up.

Seeing you a bit happier at the outcome of that night, wearing a navy blue dress he remembers oh so vividly as the colorful lights seemed to be illuminating your smile, his heart sank to his stomach. That was when it had hit him what had been so different about you.

Mark knew that he liked you. He liked you terribly.

He knew he liked you as he danced with you, his hands tenaciously at your shoulders as you thanked him with a smile for not letting you come alone. He knew he liked ever since you started to feel ‘different’ in the best way possible, and he knew he would keep liking you for a long, long time.

And that is exactly what he did.

Middle school passed by in a flash, and he never liked you any less. In fact it was impossible to not like you more. You, who was always on his side through all his phases, who brought an extra sandwich from home to share with him at lunch, who gifted him the missing star wars comic in his collection for his birthday, who defended him against all the snickers and teases of the rest of the friend group, who was the cutest girl he would ever be blessed to see, who joined the academic decathlon in highschool so he wouldn’t be alone. How could he not crush on you harder?

Just because he liked you so much, didn’t mean that he rushed to act on it. Quite honestly, when he first realized all these feelings were heavy to hold and the only way to let go of them was to confess, he had a nervous breakdown. What would he even say? What would you say? How would he even explain this to you? You were always so headstrong and focused, would a measly schoolboy crush even appeal to you? Was this the end of the world?

Once he calmed down, however, he realized that there was no rush to explain the feelings he himself couldn’t even muster to say aloud. All that mattered is that you were in his life, and he was in yours. And he was pretty damn content with that. Maybe in the future, if he still felt so much and he had gotten much more confident, he’ll be able to tell you. At the moment, 15-year-old and sophomore in highschool Mark had no rush at all.

And then, he was bit by a spider.

Of course, it wasn’t a normal spider. Because god forbid anything ever be normal in Mark’s life. One morning, he woke up with body muscle his lanky limbs did not have when he went to sleep and a strength that broke his desk bunk bed in half. If it wasn’t obvious something was off, his glasses stuck on his hand for the better part of an hour sure confirmed it.

Yup, Mark knew it. He had turned into some sort of a Spiderman.

At least, that’s what he called it. It’s what he decided to go by when a very confused passerby asked him who he was as Mark saved his bike from a thief. A quick sew of some blue and red fabric with a poorly stitched on symbol, and he was putting these powers to test.

He had a good run making a name for himself on Youtube under this ‘Spiderman’ pseudonym. It was a blissful first few months, figuring out the basics of his powers, slamming into the wall maybe only a handful of times, fighting neighborhood crime in a heroic way that he used to only be able to gawk at the avengers doing.

However, ignorance is bliss. Mark couldn’t possibly be ignorant to the way that he was making enemies who didn’t like the interference with their crimes all over queens, and fast. He especially couldn’t ignore it when a particular petty group of criminals had hit rookie Spiderman with everything they had, and the bliss ended as he limped away his first gruesome fight he had managed to win with his life.

As he dragged his way across the city, whimpering and crying as the universe decided to make his first terrible day on the job even worse with rain, he was aware of how roughed up he was, he needed help.

He couldn’t just go to his Aunt and tell her her 15 year old nephew had been putting his life in danger for the last few months. He couldn’t go to the hospital and risk exposing the identity he tried so hard to protect. He certainly couldn’t let his rowdy friends know by showing up to Taeyong’s apartment.

So he found himself barely making it up to your fire escape, knocking with the last bit of strength he had to get your attention from your Calculus homework to his figure in the window. He was limp and a mess of “i’m sorry”’s and “i don’t know where to go”’s as you pulled him in, speechless at the sight in front of you.

You didn’t get angry, you weren’t annoyed, you didn’t ask him a million questions. You only bandaged his wounds, and offered open arms as he cried and cried until he couldn’t anymore.

As Spiderman Mark gripped your hoodie, his tears staining it with salt, he knew he felt safe. God, he always did with you.

He knew that he loved you. Because honestly, wasn’t it impossible not to?

The revelation that he was in love with you didn’t come with much shock, if he asked 6th grade Mark if he knew this day would come, the answer would without any doubt be a yes.

It did come at a turning point in his life, however. He met Tony Stark, got suited up with Stark Industry gear that made every nerd crevice in his mind vibrate, fought with the avengers, nearly joined the avengers, accidentally revealed himself to his aunt, and then his other 7 friends, fought against avenger-level-threat villains, and quickly rose as one of the most famous heroes around.

Throughout everything, he never loved you any less. And even through his trials and tribulations as he settled in this neighborhood Spiderman identity, you never strayed from being his best friend. He didn’t need anything else to feel like the luckiest man in the world.

Except, maybe an answer to the dying question he wanted to know for years and years. Was he just your best friend? Or has he always been something more? On the few times you’ve told him something along the lines of, ‘I will never care about anyone like I do about you, Mark’, (And no, he actually didn’t memorize that one word for word) Did it also mean what he has always meant, or was he just dear to you in the friendliest way possible?

Although Mark was older, 18 years old and graduating from highschool, he still had that same mindset he had as an angsty new teenager. His feelings for you only weighed more and more in tons and tons over the years, especially since he was able to name it as love. Yet, he found it hard to explain why he still hadn’t felt any rush to act on them.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, even if anyone who would hear his logic might think it was. As he watched you say goodbye to peers and friends at graduation from a distance, happiest as ever in your cap and gown as you were set to attend MIT with him in the fall, he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t want to. He dreamt of it some nights, actually. He hadn’t known you his whole life, but for some reason, it felt like you were always there. When he had that stupid bowl cut, when he tried out for the soccer team and made a fool of himself, when he got his first B on an english paper, when he got bit by that spider and bit off more than he could chew, when he was applying for college and decided to major in computer science and engineering, you were there.

As you pranced back to him as you finished saying your farewells, he couldn’t help but think it would always be this way. You had him, and he had you. The night you both graduated, you both sat on a rooftop, staring at queens under you as you shared a pizza. Naturally, it felt like you would always be there. You were just natural.

Despite that, It had been nearly seven years since he first met you. Nearly seven years since he told himself he would confess when the time was right, when he was more confident and hopefully a little bigger.

He was definitely taller, and involuntarily grew some muscle. Luckily, his hair hadn’t seen the after effects of a bowl cut in years. His voice didn’t squeak when he talked to you or any girl for that matter, and he liked to think he was 10% less of a nerd. At least, enough to be charming when it counted.

So as you both left highschool for your first year at NYU, he decided he checked a sufficient amount of boxes to go for it. However, it was clearly going to be harder said than done. Just seeing you the night after he made up his mind that the time has finally come, his forehead was slick with nervous sweat and somehow he walked right into a pole. Your questioning about why his ‘Mark tingle’ hadn’t worked–which is what you had named his 6th spider-sense–didn’t help not one bit.

Truth is, it was terrifying. He didn’t know why. He had fought against intergalactic villains and catched runaway trains with his bare hands. Yet a simple ‘I’m madly in love with you’ was too much for him to handle.

Mark composed himself, running it through his mind during every late night patrol. He was going to do it, and soon. First, he had to get over the initial fear. After that, love sparks would fly.

Soon turned into weeks later, then months, and then an entire year. Before Mark could blink, it was the 2nd year of university and the ‘initial’ fear seemed to be a perpetual one.

In his defense, the first year of college was very busy. The both of you were buried in the books, biochemical and computer science engineering not being easy majors, and of course trying to maintain extracurriculars. Mark with his Stark Industries internship, that both was still a pseudonym for Spiderman duties, and this time around an actual internship he had begged Mr. Stark for. You, with the school's Debate team and interning wherever it counted and wherever paid.

Mark would be a liar if he said there was absolutely no time, though. A plus to the both of you being the unassuming and socially awkward nerds all throughout the years meant that you didn’t peak in highschool. University could be a time to blossom, be more social, enjoy the journey a little more, maybe attend a party or two.

Watching you in this beaming light as you entered a new chapter of your life, an enigma shining more than ever, it only intimidated Mark even more. Which is why his after-graduation-confession plans had stretched out a whole year later.

Mark never felt like he was losing you, though. Losing his mind? Most definitely, but not you. You were closer than ever, Mark was content.

Telling himself that he had you on his side through everything, and he would continue to have just that is what helped him sleep at night. He would stop being a coward eventually, and just like the movies, the sun would shine a halo around you, his eyes would meet yours, and he could finally confess. Time, there was lots of it, right?

Wrong. Again, it seemed like Mark’s reality was always perpetually shifting or going the opposite direction that he was aiming for.

Today, he found himself standing outside of one of the many NYU buildings, waiting for your cell biology class to be done with. It had become a habit to him to make sure you got back to your apartment safely after classes that ran into the evening, claiming that as the resident neighborhood spiderman, it was his duty to escort you. Even though in reality, you were capable of getting around just fine, and this was just another excuse for Mark to spend even more time with you.

He was wiping down his glasses when he heard the door open and you walked out, tired out from a full day of classes. He wasted no time putting on his glasses back on, making sure he caught every bit of you. Mark always thought you looked best like this, hair down and tousled in comfy clothes, today a cardigan and some baggy jeans, the night making your features even softer.

You smiled despite your weariness, waving at him, and Mark smiled right back. “Hi, Mark.” you said, walking up to him as you clutched onto your bag.

Mark reached for it, slinging it over his shoulders, the heaviness of textbooks and all your other supplies being nothing to him. “Y/n! How was your day?” He asked enthusiastically.

You stared at him with those eyes you get, sighing as you looked down. “It was alright…I got assigned two group projects, though. I mean, two, seriously? In the first month of school?” You complained and talked with your hands like you always did when you were angry, as you both started walking, Mark listening to every word.

Mark inhaled sharply, making a face at the thought. “Yikes. Two on the same day is some luck. My operating systems professor said we would have a group project soon as well, but at least we get to choose our partners.”

You pouted up at him, finding your situation unfair. “We can’t even have that luxury. I don’t know any of the people I was assigned with.” You complained with a frustrated sigh.

Mark sympathized with you, knowing how unfortunate that must be, but when you looked so expressive and adorable as you complained, it was hard for his heart to stay still in its cage. “That really does sound like it sucks. I hope they aren’t rude or some slackers.”

You shook your head looking off at the city in front of you, when all Mark could do was look at you. “I don’t think they will be too bad. The group project for cell bio, I got this one guy…Xiaojun, I think, for a partner. He seems like he’ll be a big help.”

Mark’s head tilted, his glasses tilting in the process. “Mm, really? How so?”

You looked at Mark with a pursed smile, shrugging at the recollection. “He’s very receptive, first to offer to help with research. Gave me his number so I could call him ‘if anything’, so I gave him mine as well. He’s nice, a little too nice maybe, but nice.”

Mark felt an uncomfortable lump in his throat, he hadn’t heard of you and any other guy in ages. He didn’t want to. As he took in what you had said, recognizing the name of a pretty well-known school heartthrob, exchanging numbers with him, and even the whispered fact of him being too nice, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Surely it couldn’t be that this Xiaojun was…taking an interest in you?

Mark had to make sure as he forced down the lump that prevented him from speaking. “Ah…so sounds like…he’s flirting with you.”

You both came to a stop at an intersection. You pondered your words as Mark stared at you, reading your every visible thought. “It seems like it. He’s a nice guy but I'm not interested if that is the case…because…” You said, your words trailing off as you looked at Mark with a distant look in your eye and shrugged after a moment. “I guess, I don’t have a reason to not be interested. Should at least hear the guy out, I suppose.”

Mark’s heart sank to the floor in record speeds. And he’s jumped off of buildings. As the light turned from the orange hand to the walking man, he stalled a few seconds, shaking off this new dread as he jogged a little to match your pace. “H-hear him out? So you…you like him?”

You giggled a bit, shaking your head with a smile. “I didn’t say that. I just met the guy. All I’m saying is I’ve always said no, no, no, and no. Maybe it’s time to move…Uh, I mean, to stop saying no so quickly.”

All Mark could process in that sentence is that there were others that you had to say no to. As he looked down at the sidewalk he was strolling on, his world view seemed to crack a bit. He had always known how amazing you were. Your eyes an ocean he wanted to sail. Your hair framing you in the most flattering way. Your sarcasm and humor that brightens his day. Your drive. Your kindness. Your intelligence. Your generosity. Should he keep going? He could, he could spend days listing everything that was right in you. It had just never dawned on him that other hormonal and sappy guys like him could do the same and act on it. Worse, that you could entertain it.

“As in…look for someone?” Mark asked, his voice sounding pathetic beyond his control.

You sighed, staring off at the distance, not wanting to look at him. “I don’t know…it’s just…something I've been thinking about. It feels like I'm overdue to try my hand at this whole love thing…”

Overdue. Overdue. Is that really how you felt? Mark supposes you have both gone your whole lives without dating someone. At this point in your lives, that can be considered a while. Mark had never felt like he was lacking in that category, love, because he had so much of it for you. You didn’t know that, though, and now you felt overdue.

Mark’s palms were sweaty as he gripped the straps of both of your bags. “There’s…no rush, though, right...?” He questioned, trying to preach his own stupid, stupid anthem.

You nodded, a bit solemnly if he had to add, looking up at him with a strange mix of a smile and pout. “You’re right. No rush.”

Mark sighed a breath of relief. A relief that didn’t last long as you spoke up again. “But there’s also no reason to push it away anymore.”

Mark had so many questions, such as why were you set on ‘pushing it away’ until now, where the hell did this Xiaojun come from, how it can be possible that a certainty he awoke with this morning can crumble a mere few hours later, and how he could possible be so stupid, stupid, stupid, cowardly, and naive?

Mark inhaled a sharp breath, trying to stabilize himself. He wanted to freak out, he wanted so badly to bring the both of you to a halt and grab your hands, begging for you to not even think about this. However, that would also be stupid, and if he showed that he was anything short of understanding during this conversation, you would never share anything like this with him again. Then, he would be completely in the dark about your apparently beginning love life.

“If…that’s what you want.”

Stupid. Idiot. Buffon.

There it was again, that forced smile that Mark was too busy internally panicking to notice himself. “He hasn’t even said anything that confirms the suspicion. But…I’ll see. I’ll figure out what it is that I want.”

Mark nodded, trying to play it cool as his fingernails dug into his palm. He didn’t even notice that you had arrived at the train station, standing in front of the train that took you home.

You looked up at him, smiling softly as you reached up to flick hair out of his face. It didn’t help the melting pot that was his current emotions. “You texted early that you wanted to get an early patrol. You should go get ready. I’ll be okay from here.”

Mark normally would have shaken his head no immediately, insisting that he take you all the way to your front door. Today however, he felt as if the longer he spent around you, the closer he was to losing it. “You sure? I really don’t mind-” is all he managed to say as you cut him off.

“Positive. I can join you on comms later tonight. Gotta get some homework done first.” You said, looking back as the train started to pull into a stop. “You go get ready. And eat something or you’ll be off your game. Last time you went out hungry you nearly crashed in an office window.”

Mark chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, thinking to himself that of course only you could make him laugh and make him want to yell in such a short span. “Aye-aye captain, I’ll do that. You better go before the train leaves.”

You nodded, taking back your bag from him and waving. “I’ll come to yours tomorrow. We have o-chem in the morning. We can swing there?”

Mark smiled, as best as he could by this point, nodding. “Yeah, we’ll swing there. Text me when you’re home.”

You shot a thumbs up as the train doors opened and you rushed to get in. “I will, bye Mark! Careful!”

His heart warmed, you had always told him to be careful, no matter the hundreds and hundreds of times he must have gone out now. It wasn’t enough to make him unball his fists though. “Bye, Y/n.” He said back, missing its added sense of joy.

He watched as you walked in, taking a seat and looking back at him once. He didn’t even have the guts to stand there and watch you leave, looking back twice before he was sprinting up the subway stairs and running down the street.

The slight chill in the night felt even colder as he ran, wind blowing smack in his face, but he kept running until he found an alleyway, running deep into it until he was out of sight, away from any pedestrian eyes. The cuff Mr. Stark had given him came in handy at times like these, when all he wanted to do was be suited up as soon as he could, His heart wouldn’t stop racing as the press of a button had him in his full spider-suit. He tightened his backpack onto himself, and he was off, shooting himself up in the air, and running across a ledge before throwing himself off.

He didn’t even react as he reached closer to the ground than normal, shooting a web to divert his fall just in time. Even when he was swinging way too fast, weaving through buildings and poles and cars. All he could think about you and your words. When he woke up in the morning, he thought he had time, lots of it. Now as dusk falls over and the cars underneath him couldn’t be as loud as his thoughts, he finds out he doesn’t. Or perhaps he did, and now it had run out on him.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

“So, the last thing I said was, ‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want,’ and then we got to the train station.” You finished explaining to your roommate, Yunjin, as she sat on the opposite side of the couch.

You had only met Yunjin last year, but she already felt like one of your best friends you had ever made because of how easy it was to tell her all of your problems. Of course, you already had one of those, Mark Lee, who had been wreaking havoc in your life since you had first caused him to become the laughingstock of the popular kids back in 6th grade. But you couldn’t tell him absolutely all of your problems. Especially the biggest one, that you had always had a strange sense of infatuation for him that you expected to go away, yet here you were.

If you had to pinpoint when it began, you would say when he knocked on your window sophomore year of high school, bloodied and in the famous original spiderman costume. Mark had always been loveable, long before he got bit by that spider. It was what you liked most about him, his ability to always see the positive, to always somehow wear a smile and a laugh. In someone like that, it takes the utmost trust for them to allow the most vulnerable parts of themselves to be seen.

So, it wasn’t the suit that made you realize what you had felt. Even if you had been a major Spiderman fan and the revelation was only a little life changing, that was the last thing on your mind. He was hurt, he was scared, and he needed someone, and his first thought was you.

You thought it was a fluke, feeling so much for someone so unexpected. Surely, it was bound to go away. Yet, it didn’t. The feeling was nagging and adamant, just like Mark, and refused to let go.

After some time, you came to terms with the fact that nothing about it was unexpected at all. Since you met Mark, you spent every waking moment with him. Going to your first hero convention, building the Lego death star you got for your birthday, the school trip to Venice, middle school dances, high school dances, all of it was Mark, Mark, Mark, Mark. Every memory, the good and bad, that held a special place in your heart had Mark. How was he not to become special as well?

You thought about coming straight out with it, hoping to get closure or acceptance or anything that would help maim the feeling of overflowing love. However, Mark wasn’t just Mark anymore, he was Spiderman. While the latter didn’t matter much to you, it had become a part of who he was. With his great powers, came great responsibility. Not just that, but it seemed like him almost dying every other weekend had become his new reality. While it was stressful watching Mark go through all of that, even as you became his girl-in-the-chair of sorts to help him on patrols, you couldn’t imagine how stressful it was for Mark for himself. It felt unfair to throw a confession on top of everything he already had to deal with.

So, you decided if anything were to happen between you two, Mark would have to initiate it.

While you may have kept it better under wraps, Mark always wore his emotions on his sleeves. It would take an outstanding idiot to not notice the way he acted around you. The way his ears go pink before his cheeks do, the way on occasion he’ll forget to respond as he stares in a trance, or he’ll fumble with whatever object he has in his hand. Mark had always had those awkward, loser-ish tendencies, but it was undeniable at how they seemed to be at their worst whenever you were around.

He had to have at least entertained the idea. So, therefore it was just a waiting game. When Spiderman was ready to take that leap, so were you.

You waited, and waited, waited, and waited, and waited some more. Suddenly, the second year of university came, and you were still waiting.

Honestly, it had brought you down that no moves were made as you graduated high school. Needless to say, that the fact he was still radio silent when entering university only made you more discouraged and had you wondering if your premonition was wrong after all.

Your new roommate turned friend, however, was quick to catch onto your gloominess, and almost immediately connected the dots that it was about Mark.

Since you caught her up on everything she needed to know, while of course keeping Mark’s secret locked away, she had become a trusted person to confide in. As opposed to your clear inexperience, Yunjin had more experience on her love life resume, and was always at bay with advice.

Her recent advice being something that she believed would speed up the process, to display your availability, and to flaunt that you were planning on using it. In whatever form that may be.

So, when Xiaojun exchanged numbers with you, (and in your defense, was indeed being a little too friendly) it was the perfect opportunity to test the theory.

That is how you found yourself here, playing the conversation back and forth amongst each other to try and decipher if it worked.

Yunjin groaned, hand coming down to smack the pillow in her lap. “‘I’ll figure out what it is that I want.’ You guys are impossible. It is crystal clear what you both want.” She said with a shake of her head. “Is that really all he said? ‘If that’s what you want?’ How did he…I don’t know, was he panicky or shaky or anything?”

You thought about it with a sigh, shrugging. “I mean, I guess he was a little. At the stop walk he…almost forgot to move? But he had just come from that Stark internship, he’s always like that after it. Like a deer in headlights.”

Yunjin sighed as well, biting her bottom lip in thought. “Okay, this is good. This is a good start. We’ll just have to ramp up the Xiaojun thing and eventually, he’ll be forced to crack.”

You smiled, a little bittersweetly, your hands clenched together. “I hope it plays out like that…otherwise all this for nothing.”

Yunjin could read you like a book, a superpower of hers Mark didn’t always have, ironically. “Not for nothing. You know, you could always say something.”

You looked up at her with a knowing look, shaking your head with a sigh. “You know I can’t. He’s got too much to deal with, he’s literally sp…super busy. With school and the stark internship. I just can’t.”

Yunjin nodded as she stood up, taking the memo not to pry any further. “Alright, I hope this works then, for the sake of you both.” She said as she grabbed your face in her hands jokingly. “Seriously. I’m sick of looking at it.”

You swatted her hand away, chuckling. You hoped it worked too. With your whole being.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark landed on the roof of his apartment that night exhausted from a full day of work followed by an evening patrol. Crime was quiet lately, with his biggest cases today being a measly shoplifter and a cat stuck in a tree. The type of quiet that came before a storm. Mark had too much on his mind to think about that, however. All of which involves you.

He deactivated his suit and found himself back in regular clothes, waltzing his way down the rooftop access stairs, all the way to his apartment on the 6th floor. 

He came in fidgety and anything but calm, seemingly too pumped with adrenaline and emotion to be as tired as he usually is after days like this.

Mark had the opportunity to be roommates with two of his friends, Johnny and Doyoung. Luckily for him and unluckily for his friend, Johnny was sitting on the couch, a gaming controller in his hands as he looked up to see the ball of nervousness make its way into the once mellow apartment. “Hey, Mark.” Johnny greeted, not talking his eyes off the TV. “You wanna play overwatch? Doyoung’s out for the night.”

Mark could barely register the question, his backpack slamming on the kitchen table as he plopped down on the couch next to Johnny. “What? No, no. I’m good, don’t wanna play. I have to talk to you, though.”

Johnny sighed, not taking his eyes off the screen. If his hands weren’t so busy, he’d probably grab his head too. The subject was painfully obvious. “What’s up?”

Mark sat back, looking at the ceiling. “Y/n. I messed up. So bad, dude.”

Johnny nodded, trying to feign surprise. “I see. How is she by the way? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Mark ran his hand through his hair, shooting the back of Johnny’s head a look at the inappropriate question during his time of stress. “She’s fine, dude. She told me something today.” Mark said, taking a deep breath to begin his rant. “You know, I told you…I’m confessing soon. Or I’m planning to. When I work up to it. I thought…shit. I’m so stupid. I thought she’d wait for me. She doesn’t even know, but I thought she’d wait. Apparently, there’s this dumb guy she has a group project with. Xiaojun, that’s his name. He’s flirting with her, I’m assuming. They exchanged numbers and everything.”

Johnny listened with his eyes a little narrowed, nodding in understanding. “Ah. I know that guy. He’s pretty cool.”

The look on Mark’s face couldn’t be described as anything less than offended. “He is arguably not. I mean…I know people must try to hit on her and stuff, but she was like…all cryptic. Saying things like ‘maybe it’s time to not say no so quickly’ and ‘I’m overdue at this love thing.’ She says she doesn’t like him but…she’s…she’s looking to date right? It’s gotta mean that.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows, fighting the urge to keep playing his game or turn and start shaking Mark by his shoulders. “Listen, Mark. Y/n’s a nice girl, full package, great person, gorgeous as well, and a single college student. Dating is kinda what you do. Especially with someone like Xiaojun.”

Mark’s world couldn’t crumble any faster. If only Doyoung was there instead, he at least would have broken the news a little nicer. “Oh, God. Shit. What…what do I do? She’s gonna start...dating.” He muttered with his hands on his face, glasses pushing up to his head.

Johnny stifled a groan. “Mark, you do what you should’ve done years ago. You just tell her, man.”

Mark didn’t like that answer. Of course, it was the only one that made sense, but he was hoping that someone would have some sort of miracle solution. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“Shouldn’t it be though?” Johnny retorted. “I mean, you’ve known this girl nearly half of your life. She cares about you a lot. You see it, I see it, we all see it. A confession isn’t going to break a bond like this, it can’t. You’ve got to know by now that what you’ve got is stronger than that.”

In the eyes of Mark, what Johnny said went against what every imagined worst-case scenario told him, even if logically it had made sense. You weren’t the type of person to cause a grand thing or make Mark feel bad about something so small. That was inherently the problem, however. Nothing about this was small. Small is the last word he would use to describe how he feels about you. You wouldn’t consider small something that could fill every ocean on earth's surface and then some. “How do I even tell her? I can’t just say ‘I’m in love with you.’” Mark argued, his voice sounding more and more pathetic.

Johnny used a brief moment to shoot a look at Mark, his eyes going back to the TV as he finally put his controller down and completely discarded the match he was in, leaning on his knees. “At this point, that’s exactly what you say. Your problem is that you’re trying to make it too grand, too perfect. Y/n has never been the type to be a stickler for that. It doesn’t matter how you do it, it won’t affect the outcome. If the feelings are there, which if you ask me, I think they are, then they’re there. Plain and simple.” 

Mark felt a lot of things, but at that moment defeat was most prominent. He had been imagining for years how he would confess to you. In one fantasy he would buy a billboard in Times Square and take you to see it, or perhaps he would learn the guitar and write you a song. He could make his own advent calendar, buy you a present everyday each specifically curated to your wants, and on the final day, a beautiful piece of jewelry. You deserved nothing short of perfect, but now he had to ask himself if that was really what you would want, or if he’s trying to pull every string he can for it to work in his favor. 

“So, what do I do…?” Mark said quietly, running his hand through dark hair.

“I just told you. Just tell her. Write her a poem, take her to dinner, or just straight up come out with it. Just tell her, as soon as you can, before it’s too late.” Johnny said, a supportive hand patting Mark’s back. “No more waiting. You’ve run out of time. I’ve told you this before, but I promise you it’ll turn out fine.”

It had been a wild afternoon filled with many unwanted revelations and a nasty swirl of emotions, but the quick conversation had brought Mark to the eye of the storm. He was backed into a corner, with only one way out, and that realization had finally dawned on him. “You’re…you’re right. I have to…as soon as I can.” 

Johnny ruffled Mark’s hair, reaching for his controller. “That’s the spirit. You wanna play Overwatch now?” 

Mark shot up and grabbed his bag from the table. “Nah, I’ll pass. I’m beat. I’ll probably just go to sleep, honestly.”

Johnny nodded as he returned his focus back to the TV. “Night, then. Don’t stare at your ceiling all night.”

Mark scoffed as he called from the hallway. “Wasn’t gonna do that. And goodnight!”

1.

He didn’t stare at his ceiling, but he did stare at his desk and lined paper almost all night. Johnny’s first idea of writing a poem was thrown out there randomly, but Mark didn’t think it was half bad. It was a short read on your end, and easy to get the point across without Mark having to do much talking. So, he wrote away, trying various different styles. From haikus to Shakespearean sonnets, to a ballad, each one frustrating him more and more. He even tried to make his usually sloppy writing neater than usual with cursive.

In his last attempt, he decided to ditch all rules of quatrains, lines, and rhyme schemes and instead write whatever he was feeling in a free verse poem. Finally, he felt the poem was right. Enough to say what he needed yet not including the words he needed to tell you himself. With a sigh, he laid out the poem neatly on his desk, ridding all evidence of his struggle the past hour by clearing off all pens and discarding all crumbled up sheets of paper in a trash can.

Mark found himself staring at it over with pride. Was it cheesy? Yeah. Was Mark a hopeless romantic? Certainly. That is just who Mark is, he knows that. After all these years spent with him, surely you know that too by now.

He was drained by this point, his eye lids that have felt stretched open the past few hours feeling too heavy for him to fight against them. Finally, he flopped on his bed, being able to close his eyes and drift to sleep, with plans to give you the poem laid on his desk the next time he saw you. 

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

Mark didn’t process that he would be seeing you much sooner than he expected. Soon being the next morning that you had set to head to class together. How could he when he was so out of it? He hadn’t felt as physically and emotionally tired as he did yesterday in a while, which consequently probably caused him to sleep through his alarm the next morning. 

So, he slept like a boulder, missing all of your incoming calls and texts saying that you were headed to him, blissfully unaware of the poem laid out on his desk.

Mark still slept like a baby as you arrived at his apartment, and of course Doyoung had let you in without hesitation. It was completely out of his control as you made your way to his room on a mission to wake him up. Mark stirred awake, slowly and whiny, as you shook his shoulder, your voice quiet yet enough to wake him up gently. “Mark…you overslept. Get up now, so we won’t be late.”

Mark groaned, rubbing his eyes as you stepped away from him, your job complete. In Mark’s freshly awoken state, he didn’t see what the problem was as you browsed around his room while he gained consciousness, eventually pulling his desk chair out to sit at. Sitting down, your curious eyes landed on the only thing that was laid out, his poem. Well, your poem.

He sat up, his hands still attacking his eyes, trying to rub the sleep away, and you were already well into reading it. Your face was a scramble of feelings that only grew in perplexion as you read every last word, and even getting the chance to read it twice before Mark realized. After a particularly effective yawn and stretch, his eyes landed on you with your eyes set on the paper. Only then did Mark shoot up on his feet, his limbs stumbling as he decided if he should play it cool or snatch the paper from your hands, his only thought being, “please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it, please tell me she didn’t read it.”

At Mark’s not very subtle reaction, you put the paper down, looking up at Mark from the chair. “That’s…” Is all you managed to say, not being able to choose between the words intense, beautiful, star striking, devoted, or out of place in Mark’s room. So instead, you stayed speechless for a moment, another feeling the poem invoked as you studied his every move. “Did you write that…? For who? Your writing looks different-”

In a split second, Mark was torn between answering your question with a “yes” and several “you, you, you, you, it’s all about you, only about you," ’s which is what he should have done, or lying his head off. 

The image in his mind of you sat in front of him, seeking answers to your questions, looking at Mark like you were searching for something, it seemed to move in slow motion. This was the plan, was it not? He would hand you the poem, and then he would just admit it was about you. You were more than smart enough to piece together what that implied. 

As he cut you off, he hoped that was what came out, a mere couple of words that would be all he needed to say in the moment. However, when has anything ever gone his way?

“I didn’t write it!”

Mark said a little too desperately, wishing he could exit this sack of meat and bones and punch it across the face. “Not my writing. Too neat. I uh…I found it…on my desk! In my coding class! Must be some kind of secret admirer, I think.” He exclaimed, watching as your face went from something that he couldn’t tell was hope to neutrality, drinking in his lie as fast as he had come up with it.

“Oh…well, that’s…wow. They must really like you,” you pondered as your eyes grazed over the paper.

Somehow, the poem that he had poured his heart into for you, had turned into the sign of affection that a made up secret admirer had written for Mark. If you weren’t right in front of him, he’d fall to his knees, grabbing his head in his hands as his first confession attempt results in a failure down the drain. “Yeah…I guess so…”

Turns out, confessing right away was going to be much harder than he imagined.

.   　˚ ✭　 * ✦　. ‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ .˚　 ✭　.

chap. 2

chap. 3

[loquaciousquark]

you have been my #1 favorite fanfic author of all time for like 7-8 years now for your fenhawke and ive always thought "god i would give anything for quark to write solavellan" but i respected that it wasnt your thing. so imagine the pure unbridled euphoria of checking in on your blog this week to see that he finally got to you. i actually screamed. whatever you come up with i know it is going to absolutely change my life and i am so excited <3

i’m so. sad. i'm SO sad. i was so happy for a decade just being mildly annoyed every time he crossed my dash and now i am having feelings and opinions and i don’t WANT THEM and the only way to get rid of them is to write them out of me, this is why i don’t love fenris or astarion at all anymore obviously

and like, I still don’t love Solas! I still think some things he does and some goals he has are really, really stupid! but this character I created to love him really loves him, and I really love her and want her to be happy even though she lives only inside my head, and that means I need to lay down some structure around her romance to get the shape of it, to build something I can make sense of. I may not love him, but I like him much more than I did, and I certainly understand him better than I did the first time around.

And to be honest, there’s a part of me glad I’m coming to it as late as I have. I don’t think I’ve ever read a single Solavellan fic in my life (I actually had to pause here to check the spelling). I have NO idea what tropes are popular with him or what interpretations are the biggest. I have a lot of opinions on how his personality and identity work in a romance with this particular character I’ve created, but because I’ve been so siloed I have no idea if I’m bucking the grain or not, which is fine by me.

Plus, it helps I’m not going to have ten years to build up a lot of personal headcanons and jossable thoughts before playing the new game. I’m not someone who easily ignores canon when it clashes with my imagination for the major things, so I think this will (hopefully) keep me from major disappointments.

It's kinda funny; earlier today I was going back through my DAI tag and reminding myself of all my impressions from the first time I played the game. Some of them I definitely still stand by; others have completely changed. I even said twice that a Lavellan/Solas romance would be my next playthrough, which was true if ten years late.

But it's things like: apparently the first time through I loved Solas and Sera, both of which certainly were not true going into this replay. (I barely even have a memory of Solas and Priory ever being in the party together, though the historical records say I took him to Adamant.) I apparently had a lot of hopes Gideon Emery would be voicing Fenris. I originally thought Priory was going to romance Bull, which is very ?????? after all this time. (I did still, even then, know Here Lies the Abyss completely broke her as a character, and ten years on I never could fix her for good.)

I really did not expect to change my mind on Solas going into this replay, I guess is the point. I replayed because knowing the story of DAI and Solas, I felt it was a story most personalized to elves and specifically a Solas-romancing Lavellan, and that was the worldstate I wanted to take into the new game. I played it out because that's the kind of person I am (I can't just invent characters wholesale in my head) but I really thought it was going to be a perfunctory playthrough as a stepping stone to a different game and a different PC and (presumably) a different romance. I didn't expect to love this character as much as I do, and even if I don't have ten years to write her out the way I did Hawke, I feel like I still owe it to her & her doomed romance to give her a little time in the spotlight. Lucky girl!

[pedrosgrogu]

Born Too Late - Chapter 13

pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak

Warnings: so much fucking angst it literally isnt funny. soft!joel

Summary: You're embarking on a journey of self discovery. Of things that make YOU feel good. Like setting boundaries, and getting your dream job! But that means leaving Sarah, and Joel. You actively don't think about it, until you have to. (1.7k+)

a/n: okay so shoutout to @frankensteingotwet because their vision literally inspired this chapter. ive been so down the dumps w this fic because of many reasons and im so sorry this took so long. but, if you've stuck around this long, this ones for you too. leave a like or a comment or a reblog, they mean the world. love u all bunches xoxoxo ps still figuring out writing from other POVs and boarders. :P bear with me pps didnt proof this so sorry for any errors :/

Chapter 12 - Masterlist - Chapter 14 (coming soon)

boarders: @evansyhelp

It’s been a few months since the fallout with Joel and things are relatively the same. Every so often there's muffins on the porch or you bring Sarah home, but you leave his spare key under the flowerpot and you don’t go out of your way to speak to him. 

You try to tell yourself you’re healing. You tell yourself that in order to heal you need to take more time. More time to think, more time to find yourself. But what you’ve actually done is build a wall. A wall so tall and so thick that not even the Romans themselves could conquer it. A wall so strong that a meteor would barely scratch its surface. 

But despite that big ass wall, you’re trying to get back out there. You’re trying to fix the shit that you didn’t even break. Trying to be better for yourself. You’ve gone on a handful of dates but none of them made it past the first one. The first guy, Bryan, wouldn’t shut the fuck up about how damaged he was from his ex, and the second guy, Carter, didn’t talk at all. The third? You don’t even remember his name because he didn’t show. Or at least you don't think he did. You sat alone at the bar 15 minutes past when he was supposed to get there before you blocked his number and left. Men these days make you want to become a fucking nun. 

Work is fine, and you still occasionally bring Sarah home but don’t stick around for casual conversation. You don't ask how he is or about his recent jobs. You decline many coffee invitations, and leave little room for misinterpretation. You might be trying to get back out there, but not with him. 

The more you think about your relationship(?) with Joel, you want to smack yourself. It’s like you had red fucking glasses on and couldn’t see the flags. But you were no saint either, which is why you don’t think it will ever work. There's too much shit that you both did that screams “WE ARE SO TOXIC, ESPECIALLY TO EACH OTHER!” 

Your most recent life development has been preparing to take the middle school social studies Praxis exam, your dream job. And you’ve told no one. Not even Penny. Again, “protecting your peace” or whatever self-help journey you think you’re on. 

After months of studying, you take the Praxis. And you pass. With flying fucking colors. Your excitement can’t be contained and you call Penny. She answers after 2 rings. 

“My sweet Yellow!! How are you?!” she basically screams into the phone. 

“So good Pen. You have no idea!” you pause, barely able to get the words out. 

“I passed my test! My test to teach middle school social studies-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” She screams so loud you have to pull the phone away from your ear. 

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SEE HOW ELEMENTARY WAS? REGARDLESS.. AHHHH!! YELLOW I'M SO EXCITED FOR YOU!!” 

“I know I know!! I considered it but I really want a change, and I want it now. I think it’ll be good for me. I'm even considering taking a position at the charter school which means I’ll have to possibly move so I'm not driving a borderline 40 minutes to work everyday but I'm excited.” you say, feeling like this is the first right decision you’ve made since you moved here. 

“You know I support you, no matter what. But…” she trails off

“Spit it out Pen. You’re making me nervous.” You say, chuckling in both joy and anxiety. 

“But… I’ll be moving back at the end of July. I'm going to finish my doctorate at UT Austin. I love Ireland so much but with everything going on at home with moms health and being far from my friends, I just think it's time for me to come home.” she says, more cheery than you’d expect. 

“I haven't really figured out the logistics yet, but I’ll definitely be back. I found an apartment that's about halfway between my moms and campus.” 

You speak lightly, empathy lining every word. “Oh Pen, I'm so sorry. I know how much Ireland means to you.” 

“Hey, I got all my clinical shit done so really all that's left is my dissertation. But I’ve got to finish some stuff up here before I head out for the evening. I'm so glad you called. We have so much to catch up on. I'll text you, and we can schedule something, kay? I love ya. Soooooo so much.” 

“I love you too Pen!” you say, clicking the phone shut. 

You accept the position at the charter school and inform your current school that you won’t be returning. It feels like a weight off your chest, knowing that you’ll soon be in a new town miles and miles from here. But your stomach churns at the thought of having to tell Joel, having to tell Sarah. Be away from Sarah. From Joel. But you’re healing. You’re getting the fuck over it. 

The rest of the school year flies by. Everyday is like the last. Wake up, go to work, take Sarah home occasionally and avoid small talk with Joel, maybe eat, sleep, repeat. You browse newspapers and websites for homes to rent, not finding anything worth calling about. You start to worry the closer to July you get but push it to the back of your mind.

With one week of school left, your kids are beyond done. They’re so mentally checked out from school it's like having 23 little zombies everyday. On the last day, you receive that same “Hey works running late, can you hang with Sarah?” text from Joel and the answer is always the same bland “Of course!”. 

You guys jam out to Sum 41 on the way home and do all the basics; homework, some version of spa day, dinner, and a movie. 

You both fall asleep on the couch watching Freaky Friday, and don’t even notice Joel come in. Sarah is splayed across the couch, her head using your thigh as a pillow and her feet hanging off the edge. You have your hand sitting on her head, fingers nestled in her hair like she's a baby needing the external stimuli to fall asleep. 

*Joel's POV*

Things never really changed after that last conversation, and her words play in Joel’s head like a broken record, stuck skipping on the same groove over and over. “Joel, respectfully, you were an ass to me the day we met. You don’t treat someone you care about this much, like that”. It makes him want to punch a wall every goddamn time he thinks about it, because she's right. He was an ass.  

But on that night, the night on her porch, he was vulnerable. Soft. Like a butterfly on its first day out of the cocoon. But her blinds never opened back up. And she never took the key, never accepted coffee dates, and never stuck around for banter after Sarah was asleep. It hit him like a ton of fucking bricks everytime he saw her. 

Especially when he saw her leave at night in mini-skirts and heels, knowing that someone else was getting to see her. Getting to touch her porcelain skin. Kiss her strawberry lips. Run their fingers through her walnut colored locks. It made him spiral, but she said she needed space. But how much space is too much? How much before she's gone for good? He wishes he knew. But for now, even just seeing you for 5 minutes when he gets home late will be enough. It has to be. 

It’s been months and he’s trying to accept the new normal. But when he comes home and Sarah is splayed across the couch with head in your lap and your fingers tangled in her coils, it shoots a wave of pain and agony through his once strong body. His eyes overflowed at the sight. How could he fuck up something so goddamn perfect? Despite anything you ever did, it would never compare to the shit he put you through. He felt like he was drowning, and needed to calm himself down. He quietly sneaks off to his bathroom and tries to wash away the negative thoughts running rampant through his mind. 

He throws on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, combing his chocolate curls from his eyes. Walking out, his steps echo through the house. The TV must've auto shut off and the only sound heard is the hum of the refrigerator mixed with the soft snores of his 2 favorite girls. He dreads having to disturb either of you. You both look so peaceful, holding onto each other like your lives depend on it. He rubs his thumb across your cheek, soft as not to wake you. Knowing it would only cause more turmoil. He sighs, scooping Sarah off your lap. You barely stir, mumbling softly as Joel carries Sarah to her room. He comes back and you’re burrowed into the couch, your hair covering your eyes. 

*Readers POV*

“Hey” Joel whispers, standing over you, but you don’t move. 

He crouches down so he's now eye level with her “Sweet girl, I’m home” 

“Yellow? You gotta wake up. Sarahs already in bed.” He says, a little louder this time, rubbing your shoulder, your skin so hot it makes him feel like he’s going up in flames. His heart is full of desire, and regret. 

You stir, eyes crinkling open. “Hey Joel. Where’s Sarah?” your voice groggy and light. His heart melting at the mere sound of it. 

“I took her to bed, ya both were knocked out on the couch.” he says, flashing you a quick smile. 

She stretches, becoming more conscious as the seconds pass. 

And then it hits you. The thought of having to tell Joel that you’re moving makes your stomach churn, but it needs to be done. You want him to have time to arrange her transportation next year. 

“Joel?” you ask, your mouth salivating because of how nauseous you are.. “Can we talk?” you say, sitting up. 

“Always. I actually need to ask you something too.” He sits beside you, but not too close. His honey brown eyes meeting yours, looking at you rather than through you. 

You both sit in silence, just staring. And almost as if the same spit it out bug bites you both in the ass at the same damn time,

“I’m moving.” “Can you keep Sarah for me some days this summer?” 

And a singular tear rolls down Joel’s cheek.

[silveredlies]

It was up to Suresh if he would believe what was said. The term walking abomination was no surprise as he had been called a whole slew of things in the confrontation. It did earn an eyeroll and a sigh from Corvinus. "I'm certainly not surprised. But there was no dispute. Keep in mind, this was eighty years ago and he was much younger. Much more inexperienced. If I wanted to snuff him out to claim territory, I would have. It's never interested me and a shifter of all things would not stop me if it did. Honestly, the only interest I have in him now is gloating because he failed. Rub his nose in it, that's what you do with dogs, isn't it?" There wasn't anything else particularly interesting about him, shapeshifters were common enough. Dog ones especially. Had Callum not attacked him all those years ago, he likely wouldn't have approached him now. The Lightless was where he was least concerned. "And nagas may be perfectly natural, but he may not see it that way. He may not deem it natural or perhaps he considered one sinful. I'm merely suggesting you think about why he would lie. I wouldn't consider our little fight anything major."

Perhaps he could get away with planting a small seed of doubt between the two groups. Something that might fester and blossom into a toxic flower. Everything else he had said was true enough. He'd had no idea who Callum was until he had been approached. The shapeshifter could go around playing Hellhound all he liked, it wasn't of any consequence to Corvinus so long as his own plans weren't interfered with back then. "I may not offer information freely all the time but I don't think I've completely lied to you. Well...perhaps you would consider me pretending to be drunk but that was just in good fun." Lies of omission rather than outright dishonesty was how he often got by. Though he could play into either of them depending on what he wanted.

It wasn't as if Corvinus believed the talons were really gone, he knew the glamour well enough. Powerful stuff from the naga but he could sense the magic in the air. "Well, considering you've already ruined one shirt, I'd at least like to pretend you won't to another." Or anything that might give blood. He knew well how valuable blood was and certainly wouldn't be giving out any of his own. But he could wait the naga out. As long as it took and both acknowledged that. Perhaps a thorn in his side but why rush a fun time while he was allowed to have it? Seeing the hand, Corvinus reached his own out to take it. "Do you want to know the best part of being powerful in my own right? I don't crave or fear your powers. I have my own." There wasn't any real desire for them. A fascination but he found that often with others that challenged him. He turned Suresh's hand over, bring it closer to place a gentle kiss to the top of it.

A step in the right direction, luring them together for what he was sure would be an interesting night. So much excitement. He was sure Callum and Suresh would be furious. The leader of the Deathrunners, well, he hadn't had the honour just yet to know that reaction. "It's simple maths. I'd much rather have one witch pissed off at me than the three of you. I don't really feel fear but you three could be a great annoyance to me. What is one witch?" Downplay the abilities of the Nameless leader subtly, as if it wasn't enough to really both him. At the next words, Corvinus did laugh softly to himself. "I don't think I've ever been considered a god of all things. Monster, yes. But I prefer my privacy too much to let the world know about me to worship me. I already have an ego, let's not inflate it."

Suresh's nose had fixed itself, there had been nothing to stop it from going back to what it was supposed to look like so it straightened itself without any further interference. The Naga grinned, "I was keeping you prone. You kicked me in the face. Slightly different... -what do the children say these days- Vibes? But you're right. Even is even." It wasn't something to stay on. He could move past it for the time being. He listened to the laugh. Interested in the sound. He knew that Callum hadn't been telling the whole truth but Suresh was not about to wholesale believe the witch. Not now, not ever. He simply nodded, "That is what he told me." Because it had been. He leaned his head on the couch and listened to whatever semblance of the truth poured from Corvinus' lips. The relationships with the Lightless was contentious at best but they had found a common ground until the man sitting across from him had appeared. Suresh nodded his head. The way Corvinus told it was a bit different than how the Hellhound had painted the circumstances. And somewhere in the middle was what had actually had happened. Suesh nodded again and said, "Yes, I believe he called you a walking abomination." But that was between Loughty and his god. His need to right the scales. True believers had their place in all orders. Suresh's golden talons clicked against each other as he folded his hand over his chest. At the string of mostly rhetorical questions Suresh shrugged, "Why do any of us hide anything? Because we do not trust." The comment about nagas and Callum made Suresh's eyes narrow and he shook his head, "Naga's are natural. Old or not. Just because no one knows what our life expectancy actually is... we are natural." Well, they were natural. Whatever he'd done to augment himself... that was something else.

Suresh considered what Corvinus thought would be the things that he would reject outright. He wasn't going to give Corvinus a blank check. The Naga let out a soft amused noise when the witch said he didn't mind getting his own hands dirty. Of course. "If you are disliked that is entirely up to you." But whatever the witch chose to do he would do. A favor that he could reject was fine with Suresh.

He glanced down at his hands. Looking at his talons. Then back back up at Corvinus. "The talons are what bother you? Really? Alright then." He cracked his neck and drew in a breath and a soft shimmer on his hands, talons gone like they had never been. "Standing in the rubble looking across at each other... No. There is no rush. Though the next time I think neither of us will be holding back like we were..." A soft acknowledgement that what had happened between them was a mere skirmish. "Most people that know what I can do either crave it or are repulsed by it. I'm not fond of either reaction." Suresh reached his right hand out across the space between them, palm up, offering it to the witch. "You don't have to pretend." He held it there waiting, just to see what he would do.

An elemental witch... It didn't feel right. But wanted a face to the Nameless. Something with no face and no real intentions were difficult to guard against. And there was always the possibility that the leader could be trapped and then killed. However Suresh was not in a rush to gather all the important people in the city into one spot for the Nameless to possibly act against. "I will reach out along the channels I am able to use. And give you a location when appropriate. But why offer him up? You could have given him one of us couldn't you?" Suresh agreed that others feared power. It's why he hid so much of his. His eyes drifted over Corvinus' face as he spoke about being erased from living and written memory. "We've seen our share of Ozymandias' I think. But for us, it goes in cycles. We are the gods and we are the monsters. It just depends on the age and who writes the histories. But we are the myths and legends. Things that the others can only hope to aspire to."

[pollen]

i've been diving a lot deeper into adhd symptoms and comorbidities and misdiagnoses and whenever i tell my boyfriend something i learned that sounds like me he responds with something like

[autixel]

honestly i don't think i'm satisfied with tdp s7

[girlivealwaysbean]

it would feel so nice to work towards a career that has meaningful impact and makes millions of people happy

[crossbackpoke-check]

nosy anon again making a return because i think what my brain did was read that i helped find some kind of writing and then did not fully process what the writing was?? but upon rereading i am very intrigued if you ever get the urge to share i will be all eyes/ears/senses required to enjoy things!!

I GET TO DO WIP WEDNESDAYYYYYY!!! the writing exists mostly in the form of a tag (fantastic! 'verse) and also a thirty-two page doc of snippets and planning, so the sense you will be using most is imagination:

don't think i have ever actually formally written out anything about fantastic! 'verse but! the tl;dr of it is that it's a semi-college au: joel is still a hockey player for the lv phantoms, but morgan is a college student-athlete. it's incredibly relevant to the plot that joel falls in love with morgan in the check-out line of a wegman's, lies a little bit, and ends up going back to get his degree.

most of it is just good fun about college kids growing up, but i think there's a lot of parallels between making your way through a development system where traditional "success" isn't always guaranteed (ahl -> nhl, completion of higher education -> pursuit of a career) because that development system isn't always designed for you to "succeed" or have opportunities. heavy quotation marks around success because part of that struggle is learning what you want in life and how you define success. are your dreams achievable? are they still the same dreams you always used to have? it's infinite branching universes of would you still love me if i was a worm (ahl player forever) (a college dropout) (a college graduate) (older) (realizing the fallibility of your body) (uncertain of the future) (human).

silly little snippet:

[peridots-pixiwolf]

hey guess who is actually and without exaggeration crying over ultrakill

[earl-grey-crow]

so. coyle.

[the-punforgiven]

Sometimes I am reminded that For Honor can be both the most fun shit in the world and also the most viscerally unfun thing to ever exist in the universe and it depends entirely on who you're fighting and how many of them there are