#and its literally like. the same waiting room and office and shit its just a room over

[toytulini]

wore my nightvale "pain is just pain entering the body" tshirt to a physical therapy appointment awhile ago and it was a bit of a hit

[ynbabe]

We don’t hate each other ୨୧ Arthur x fem! reader

Y/n was Ollie's oldest friend, growing up with him as he raced his way up to formula one, somewhere in between she found Arthur Leclerc, found him a massive fucking pain in the ass that is until something changes when Ollie debuts in Carlos Sainz Ferrari.

A always, comments and requests are always welcome! lemme know what y'all think of this!

Warnings: curses, lime

y/nl/n

y/nl/n GET THIS MAN IN A FERRARI ASAP 💪 💪 💪 😮‍💨

Username they're relationship is so important to me actually

username arent they just friends?? username girl you believe that? LOOK AT THEM THEY'RE LITERALLY MARRIED username theyre 18 go touch grass pls 😭

username GET THAT MAN IN A FERRARI!!!

Username shes so real for that bow, ollies so cute 🥹

olliebearman thank you for the very serious pictures of me, a very serious, very profession man

y/nl/n "very serious, very professional man"🤓 shut up you literally cried in my arms when you got called olliebearman i'm telling my pr officer to block you username did what in whose arms now?? username oooh so hes in love love

arthurleclerc Way to go Ols!

y/nl/n gtfo my post arthurleclerc gtfo off my fyp y/nl/n block me bitch arthurleclerc too much effort, cry olliebearman guys you're in public 😭

username whats with Arthur and Y/N? 😅

Username they're competing for Ollies love Username bro you wrong for that 😂

arthurleclerc

arthurleclerc to MY bestfriend, congratulations on making it to Ferrari and f1! You deserve the best! Hope my brother treated you well.

username SHOTS!! HAVE!! BEEN!! FIRED!!

Username he know he wrong for that first photo

Username okay wait. How do both Leclerc have a Wattpad ass gay romance is it genetic??

Username bro all capped the my 😭

username mans petty as hell

username @/y/nl/n me personally, I wouldn't take that

username hes stealing your man girl go get him!!

oliiebearman Thank you Arthur! Yes he did!

arthurleclerc ur welcome ols ❤️ username @/y/nl/n were waiting for you boo username its the red heart for me Username Charles come get your brother!!! he's cosplaying you and max on main again

y/nl/n Congrats Ollie!! love you 🥰 (Not gonna make this abt myself like some other girls)

arthurleclerc revoking ur paddock pass btw 🥰 Olliebearman ... I'm blocking you both 🥰

username mans done with them 😂

You rolled your eyes as you saw Arthur's comment on yours, how could he be so childish. Forget it, you reminded yourself, today is for Ollie and Ollie only.

You waited in Ollie's driver room till he was done with the debrief, you'd go out to celebrate with him and his family later. His trainer had given him a pass on the diet, after all, scoring points in F1 was no joke.

You jumped off the chair you were lounging in, ready to hug the man as you heard the door open but to your disappointment, it was only Arthur.

You groaned as you saw the boy and he scowled in return. You never knew how your rivalry began. One moment you were visiting Ollie for the first time at Prema and the next you were in a screaming match with a Monagasuque man with the cutest accent.

"What are you doing?" He asked, rather, demanded.

"Waiting for my friend," you replied with the same annoyance in your voice, "What are you doing here?" you accused, stepping towards him.

He pulled a face, closing the gap, "Here to support my friend, you know cause we can actually stand each other,"

"Hah, sure, at least I'm not jealous of my friends, you know cause they actually make it into f1," you shrugged, knowing it was a low blow.

His face morphed into anger as he pushed closer towards you, "You need to shut up," he spoke in a low voice, you'd be scared of the taller, much stronger boy if you weren't doused in anger yourself.

"Make me then," why did you say that- Oh shit.

Your eyes widened as he kissed you, making both of you stumble back and fall on Ollie's driver room bed. You groaned as your back hit the mattress, the older boy breaking the kiss, looking down at you in concern.

"O-oh, my god! Y/n I'm so sorry, I don't know wh-" he began rambling but you couldn't let him win, could you? So you kissed him back, letting your hands run through his hair.

He led one hand to your waist, letting it fall under your shirt, he hissed at the warmth your skin radiated under his palms.

"Oh my god, OH MY GOD," Someone yelled, making Arthur push off the bed, and fall on the floor.

"Ollie this isn't what it looks like," he explained from the floor making you frown.

"It isn't?" you asked making him turn to you.

"No, it is," he explained to you, then turned to shocked Ollie in the doorway, "I mean- it is," he tried to explain.

Ollie paused for a moment, "On my bed, really?" he replied, disgust in his voice.

You picked up the pillow on his now messed up bed, throwing it at his head, "Shut up,"

He laughed as he ducked, "Hey, at least none of us had to intervene," he confessed making you and the boy who was now getting up off the floor groan in defeat.

olliebearman

olliebearman never make out in my room again, I beg you

Y/nl/n sorry I stole your boyfriend, Ols

arthurleclerc you are still the love of my life, y/n's just a friend olliebearman DO NOT START THIS AGAIN

Username HUH?

username chat is this real rn? username fr thought they hated each other username bro said he was going to get his Wattpad enemies to lovers one way or the other

username Charles Leclerc it's your turn now.

charlesleclerc So all the ranting actually led to something?

y/nl/n he talks about me?? arthurleclerc NO I DIDN'T! Charles shut up or I'll tag someone you rant about. Charleslecler y/n changed you i dont like this relationship anymore username WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? Username First we get Arthur x y/n and now we are getting Charles read like filth 😭

trying something new, thoughts?

[soullumii]

masked up | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x fem!afab!reader

summary: joel fucks you while wearing his gas mask

warnings/tags: 18+ content MDNI, very self indulgent smut (unprotected piv oops, mask kink 🤭, vaginal fingering, riding joel cowgirl because that is for sure his fav position, little bit of a bulge kink, oral [m receiving]) descriptions of blood and violence, established relationship (married!! whoop whoop!!), making joel call you “my wife” because i’m weak for that shit, soft!joel, protective!joel, this got sappy, pet names galore as usual, NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 4.2k

a/n: i can’t explain how i feel about joel wearing a gas mask. i swear every time he put it on while i was playing tlou pt 1 i moaned /hj. just HEAR ME OUT PLEEK. JUST WATCH THIS (it’s a tiktok edit) OK YOULL UNDERSTAND.

You don’t mean for the mask to become a thing.

But it does. It becomes a Thing™.

It all starts and ends with Joel, like good and bad things usually do. And this thing is no exception.

But it all begins with something bad.

Coming across spores nowadays is few and far between for you. You're not usually on patrol much, your job being to tend to the crops in the greenhouse and feed the livestock. 

Today, though, you’re not so lucky. With Tommy out sick, you’re filling in for him. Thankfully, though, you’re paired with Joel, your very lovely and very experienced in the art of dealing with infected, husband. So you know if you come across spores, your husband will have your back. 

Spores are annoying, but they're manageable with gas masks. When you and Joel enter an abandoned office building on a new patrol route and you catch sight of the little specks floating through the air, you immediately put yours on, Joel doing just the same. 

The floaty fungal fuckers themselves aren't scary, especially not when you have the gas masks to keep you safe. It's just what waits in the shadows that scares you, because where there are spores, there's infected. Lots of them. 

And usually interspersed in that conglomerate of stalkers and clickers are the big, meaty ones. The kind that have been sitting and festering for years. The kind that could literally rip you into pieces, regardless if you have a gas mask on or not. Bloaters, yeah, those big shits. The fucking bane of your existence.

Unfortunately, the one lazing around in this abandoned office building must somehow pick up on your undying hate for them because within minutes of you and Joel looting the place for all it’s worth, it comes clambering out of what used to be a conference room.

It's a big one. Noticeably disgusting, outrageously hideous, growling and slobbering as it slings mycotoxin at you. It's not very fast, and yet it's so fucking terrifying as it lumbers after you, because you know exactly what it’s capable of. 

You're shooting at it with whatever arrows you have left in your backpack (though they’re mostly just bouncing off it’s thick fungal exterior), and Joel's crunching out shot after shot with his shotgun, but neither of you are hardly making a dent.

God, you wish Joel had brought the flamethrower he keeps in his storage room. You’d make a Molotov cocktail, but with the other infected hot on your heels, there's no time. 

A stalker comes crawling out of the shadows behind you, knocking over an office chair in the process, and you whip around to lodge an arrow right between its eyes. Two more come swinging out of nowhere, and you're so focused on trying to get rid of them so that they can't reach you—can't reach Joel—that you don't realize you've left your back unattended until a large, gross excuse for a hand lands hard on your shoulder, lugging you backwards with inhuman strength. 

Joel shouts your name with increased panic, and you hear his gun fire off more rounds into the bloater's back, but it doesn't care, it's hands finding your head and jaw, gripping you so tight you think it might shatter your mandible.

"Joel!" You scream, eyes squeezing shut as the pain in your jaw multiplies.

This motherfucker is about to rip you clean in half—

You think this is it, I'm about to die in front of my husband by being torn from the jaw down, but, thankfully, death never comes. Instead, the bloater releases you with a pained roar as the sound of squelching fills your ears. You manage to back away enough to watch Joel tug the bloater off of you by the handle of his machete, the blade lodged in its chest. 

He pulls the machete out only to swing it down in an arc straight into its head, repeatedly. Blood splatters all over him as he bludgeons the wretched thing. Over his veiny arms, his black mask. It sinks into the fabric of his flannel.

And funnily enough, this is when it becomes a thing.

The bloater crumples to the floor with a gurgling groan as it finally dies, and Joel turns to you, chest heaving and eyes wide and panicked. They soften, relieved when he catches sight of you physically intact, though, mentally a bit checked out.

Whether that’s because you’re in shock or because your brain is rewiring as it files this new image of Joel away, who knows? Maybe it's a little bit of both. 

“Are you okay?" Joel asks, sheathing his machete to look you over. His hands catch your jaw gently, a welcome contrast to the bloater. He turns it this way and that, checking for any damage or possible bites.

A traitorous thrumming starts up between your thighs as he stares you down through the lenses of his mask. 

"I'm fine, Joel," you say, breathlessly. "Thanks."

“Thank god,” he squeezes your arm lovingly, grateful to see you in one piece. “Let’s get outta here.”

- - -

"Do you like the masks?" You ask him eventually, when you're back outside, the setting sun warming you pleasantly as the tall borders of Jackson rise in the distance.

You both took the masks off the minute you escaped the spores, but a part of you secretly hoped Joel would keep his on.

Joel scratches at his graying beard. "They keep us safe. Don't feel much for 'em at all really." He glances sidelong at you, a curious quirk to his lips. "Why?"

You shrug, "No reason."

Just trying to figure out if you'd wear it during sex if I asked you to, that's all.

“Alright, somethin's up," Joel says. "You've got the look.” 

“What look?” 

“The sex look.” 

You halt in your hike, turning to narrow your eyes at him. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

Joel fails to stifle a chuckle. “You’re horny. That’s the face you make when you want to have sex. Like you wanna eat me alive.” 

Shit. He’s found you out.

“How would you know?”

He blinks. “Honey, I’m married to ya. Of course I’m gonna know.”

Valid. Still-

"I’m not horny," you try to defend, though you've never been good at lying, and based on the self satisfied smile Joel wears, you know he sees right through you. "We almost died, Joel. Maybe this is my 'loving every minute of my life' look."

"I know that look. This ain't it."

Jesus Christ.

You sigh heavily. “Okay, yes. Maybe I am a little horny.” 

"Because…what? We almost died? That gets you goin'?" 

"No," you grit. You can’t even look at him when you say it. “It’s the mask.”

His brows knit. “The...gas mask?”

You nod tightly. 

“I don’t think I’m followin’,” Joel says. 

Is he seriously asking you to spell it out for him?

You take a deep, steadying breath. You don’t quite know how to phrase this, so you just go for it. “Watching you save my life in the gas mask just sort of woke something up in me. It was hot.” 

“Oh.”

Yup. He definitely thinks you’re crazy.

“So, what, you want me to fuck you while wearin' the mask or somethin’?”

Heat pools heavy and thick between your thighs at his words, your heart hammering behind your ribs. “Something like that, yeah.” 

Joel straightens. “...Okay. I can do that.” 

Your head whips up. “Wait, seriously?”

“You’re my wife. If you asked me to fuck you with a damn jester’s hat on I’d do it.” 

You laugh. “Okay, let’s not go that far.”

“I’d really do it for you.”

“It sounds like you actually want to wear it.”

He chuckles, and you two resume walking back to Jackson. “Alright, so, gas mask on tonight,” he says. “Any other requests?” 

“Since you’re asking…maybe you could wear a cowboy hat sometime…”

- - -

"Jesus, you're really lovin' this," Joel muses.

You're laid out beneath him in your shared bed, his long calloused fingers deep in your cunt, his thumb circling slowly over your clit, drawing out your pleasure, stretching it like taffy. Your jeans are still on, unbuttoned and unzipped, and your soiled underwear is pulled to the side as Joel’s hands unwind you. 

You're grasping onto his muscled forearm for dear life, moans leaking out of you in a steady stream as he fucks his fingers into you, curling up to stroke that spot that has you clenching down hard on his digits as the burning starts in your toes, climbing up your thighs. 

He looks so fucking good with that mask situated over his handsome face, his peppered hair flipping out over the straps that keep it snug on him. His eyes are dark through the lenses as they watch you unravel before him, almost black from how dilated his pupils are.

His jeans are still on, his erection straining hard against his zipper. The flannel he wore earlier is gone, giving you the perfect view of his toned chest and the dark hair that dusts it. There's still some blood stains on his mask. Every time you catch sight of them, your body ignites with something carnal and hungry.

"’Cause, you look hot," you huff between moans. 

Joel laughs, deep and rumbling, and the mask warbles it a bit, adding a distortion to his voice that for some reason makes everything happening so much hotter. “I still don’t really get it, but if it’s makin’ you this wet, I don’t care.”

You moan particularly loud at the sound of his voice muffled through the mask and cant your hips against his hand, the combination of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers fucking up into you has you dangling dangerously close to the edge.

“I-I’m close, Joel.”

His brows furrow behind his mask, and he quirks his fingers inside you even more, and you jolt against his hand. 

“C’mon then, baby. Come for me. Show me how much this pretty pussy loves this mask.”

Fucking shit. When you first met Joel, he hardly spoke a single word, and even when you got him to open up more, he was thoughtful with what he said, chose his words carefully. Unless he was angry, then he could be a bit of an ass.

In bed though? Shit, if you can get him to shut up it’s a damn miracle.

“F-fuck, Joel,” you whine, legs stiffening as your orgasm swells inside you, a match striking, lighting up your viscera as pleasure fast-releases inside your veins. 

“There you go baby, that’s it,” Joel purrs. “So pretty when you come.”

You inhale shakily as the last few shocks fizzle through you, your clit throbbing as you come down from your high.

“Fuck…” you huff, trying to catch your breath.

He strokes your thigh lovingly, and if you could see him behind the mask you’d assume he’s probably wearing that soft smile that he gets sometimes that melts you into a puddle of mushy gushy feelings.

Joel leans back on his knees. “Now it’s time to deliver on that promise,” he says, and your skin tingles at the sound of his zipper. 

“Wait,” you tell him, and he stops, looking at you in concern.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“No I just…I wanna show you how much this means to me.”

“Me wearin’ this mask? It’s not a big deal-“

You sit up and plant your hands on his chest, pushing him down until his back hits the mattress, effectively shutting him up.

You swing your leg over him, situating yourself right on his lap and peel off your tank, delighting in the way his eyes widen and his hands come down to settle warmly on your thighs. 

The muscles in his arms shift as he squeezes your flesh. The drag of the crotch of his jeans against yours has you biting your lip, a zing of pleasure shooting through you.

Joel’s eyes have darkened behind his mask, his pupils swallowing his irises whole besides the thin circle of hazel remaining at the edges as he watches you.

“I’ve never hated jeans more than I do right now,” he says lowly, his gaze dropping to the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

His strong hands slide up from your thighs to your hips to your waist, his dry, calloused skin causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. Finally, his palms cup your breasts, unrestrained by a bra because they’re too hard to come by in this day and age. 

He squeezes gently, and your nipples tighten beneath his palms. And then he rolls one between his thumb and forefinger, and your back arches, pressing you further into him. Your hips grind down automatically, and Joel releases a hazy moan. 

“Maybe,” you gasp when you roll your hips again, reveling in the delicious friction against your clit. “You should take them off.”

“Yours first.”

You don’t press him on it. You want your jeans off. So you lift yourself off of him and the bed to tug at your zipper, and Joel watches raptly as you pull your skinny jeans down your thighs, kicking them off your ankles.

And then you’re only in your underwear, and you throw your legs astride him again, the cloth of your underwear catching deliciously on the tent in his jeans. Joel’s hands find your body immediately, like a sweet tooth to a chocolate bar. His fingers dig into your flesh, and he grips your thighs, pulling them apart to set you on him fully. A shudder wracks your spine at the feeling of him pressed against your throbbing core.

“Goddamn,” he growls, eyes roving over you hungrily. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You grind down on the hard outline of his cock, and Joel can’t help his reflexive thrust into you, and you sigh. 

“I need you in me, Joel,” you whisper, leaning forward to plant your hands on his broad chest, your fingers messing with the hair dusting his sternum. “Need your cock filling me up.”

“Christ,” he swears, eyes falling shut as he bucks again. “Need’a be in you, sweetheart.”

His hands find your hips and then your ass, squeezing the muscle cultivated there from twenty years of surviving in an apocalyptic world. 

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your panties, warm and confident. He lightly rakes his fingernails over your skin, running his calloused fingertips reverently over the stretch marks on your hips. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers through the mask. “Wish I could kiss you.” 

You shiver and your arms loop around his neck. His back is scarred beneath your hands, and you rub gently into the muscle of his traps, causing Joel to release a groan. 

His hand gravitates from your hips to the apex of your thighs, and your breath catches in your throat at the warmth radiating from his fingers when he positions them just below where you want him most.

He circles your clit again, smooth pleasure seeping through your nerve endings and your head falls back in a relaxed moan. You grind against the hard outline of his cock and the pads of his fingers against your clit, each slow drag of your hips causing pleasure to fizzle through you, like a flavored tab in a glass of water.

Your hands travel down his chest and stomach, outlining the thick, jagged scar there. Over his dark happy trail that starts just above his belly button and leads down to what your body is desperately craving. A little treasure map. 

You deftly undo the button and zipper and Joel makes a wrecked noise in the back of his throat when your hand brushes the hard outline of him through his briefs. 

“Wanna show you how much I like you in the mask,” you purr as you palm him. “How hot it gets me.” 

“Fuck,” his head falls back when you tug him out of his briefs, stroking his thick length to full mast. “Please, baby.”

You inch yourself down his legs so that you’re face to face with his weeping cock. Joel’s eyes widen and his hand comes up to gently stroke your hair appreciatively, tucking a lock of it behind your ear. He looks at you with adoration, and your heart swells in your chest.

“I love you, y’know that?” He says, softly. 

You can’t help but get a bit misty-eyed, always a fan of Joel when he gets soft like this. “I love you, too.” 

He smiles, and glances down at his dick, maneuvering it so that the head skates across your lips, leaving a trail of precum. His heated eyes find yours again. “Go on and show me then.”

“Yes sir.”

You keep eye contact as you lean forward to give his cock little kitten licks, and his head drops against the pillow with a groan, eyes lidded. “Shit, you can’t be lookin’ at me like that.”

You just smirk, and lick a long stripe up a prominent vein and kiss the tip of his cock sweetly before slowly taking him into your mouth. You take in as much as you can (which isn’t much, he’s pretty fucking big), and your hands find whatever you can’t fit.

You start sucking him in earnest, pressing the flat of your tongue against the ridge of his cock, delighting in the way the hand that had softly petted your hair before is now gripping it tight when you tongue that sensitive spot that always gets him reeling.

“That’s it, honey,” he groans, his hips twitching with tiny little thrusts as he tries to hold himself back. “Just like that.”

You moan against his cock, which has him bucking up reflexively, shoving his dick further into your warm mouth. Your throat spasms around the head of his cock when it hits the back of it, gagging lightly and tears forming at the edges of your eyes.

“Shit, I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he says, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb.

You shake your head slightly in reassurance, moaning around his cock again, and he releases a heavy breath, eyes fluttering shut once more as you continue to suck and bob and lick, effectively ruining him.

“Okay, okay, baby,” he says after a little while, lightly tugging on your hair to try and get you to stop. “I’m gonna come if you keep doin’ that.” 

You release his cock with an audible pop and send him a pout, “But that’s the whole point.” 

He chuckles a bit, sliding the mask off for a second so he can pull you up to kiss you softly, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You moan gratefully into his mouth when he tilts his head to deepen it, opening up greedily. As attractive as you find the mask, you certainly do miss being able to kiss him. You sigh happily when he pulls back to mouth at your jaw and throat, sucking and nipping his way down. 

“I wanna be in you when I come,” he murmurs against your skin, voice rough and gruff and you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. “How’s that sound?”

You moan softly when he bites down on your throat, his beard and mustache tickling your skin. “Sounds…sounds good.”

He gives you another kiss before tugging his mask back down over his head, and your skin ignites, pussy fluttering.

Joel laughs. “I can literally see the cogs in your brain turnin’ when I put this on. You really do like it, huh?”

You shrug with a guilty smile. “The heart wants what it wants.”

And what it wants is him. Real bad.

So you drift a hand down to pull your panties to the side and shift your hips to position yourself over him, the head of his cock catching on your entrance. You sink slowly down, his length filling you.

The two of you moan in tandem.

“There we go,” he sighs.

“Mm, so big, Joel…” you whimper, and his dick jumps inside you.

You both just hang there for a moment, suspended in time as you get used to the feeling of each other. You’ve done this so many times, know each others bodies inside and out, yet it’s still a brand new experience every time.

You always have to adjust to his thickness. 

You break the spell with an experimental roll of your hips, and Joel’s hands clamp down on your hips with a vice grip.

“Christ—“ he swears. “You’re so good, so good for me.”

He’s filling you so fully, so deeply right now, you’re practically speared on him, and each roll of your hips has your clit brushing against his pelvic bone, amplifying that white hot pressure building inside you. 

When you and Joel first started getting intimate together, he was quiet in the bedroom. Probably a bit nervous around you—he was the one that fell first, after all.

But now after years together, he lets it all out.

Grunts and moans leak out of his gritted teeth as you fuck yourself on top of him. He’s dousing you in praises, telling you what a good girl you are. How perfect you are. How lucky he is to call you his wife. 

It’s all so very adorable and very sexy and you just love him so fucking much. 

Joel plants his feet down behind you, just to get some leverage so he can thrust his hips up into you at a steady pace. Your hands find purchase on his chest, keeping you upright while he fucks you.

His large palm slides around the front of your stomach, pressing down, and you can feel the way his cock moves inside you as he does it.

“You see that, baby?” 

You haven’t really looked down, so focused on the way he looks in the mask, how his breaths are coming out heavier and rougher through it. The way he sounds wrecked. But now that he’s asking, you do. 

You look down, only to see a slight bulge in your stomach with each thrust of his hips. 

A pleasant shudder runs through you. “Oh fuck.”

“Love seein’ the way I fuck you,” he rasps.

You watch his cock disappear and reappear with a slack jaw, eyes glazed as his hands stray to your thighs, squeezing and kneading the flesh.

You’re losing strength in your arms, your nails scraping through his chest hair as you try and remain upright, but the effort of matching his thrusts with your own along with the steady ecstasy filling your marrow is enough to have you collapsing against his chest, boneless.

And now Joel can really take the reins. His big hands grip your ass, holding you still as he pounds into you, your cheek smushing against his pecs with each heavy thrust, your clit rubbing against his sweat-slicked skin.

“F-fuck, Joel. Oh my god—“

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunts. “Atta girl.” 

Within moments you’re already there, eyes squeezing shut, brows pulled together in ecstasy as your climax crashes over you in rolling waves. It ebbs and flows within you as you listen to the heated pants modulating through Joel’s mask, watching his eyes gloss over as he chases his own release. 

It’s so fucking good. So right. Your husband never fails to give you exactly what you want.

His thrusts grow sloppier as he follows soon behind you, the fluttering walls of your cunt pulling him over faster.

“I’m comin’,” he grits. And then he’s grinding his cock into your pussy, holding you still against him as he paints your insides with thick ropes of cum, releasing a long, drawn out, wrecked moan of your name.

You lay pliant on his chest, practically drooling on him as you both come down and his cock softens inside you, slick and cum running down the inside of your thighs. His heart pounds under your ear, a steady reminder that he’s alive and here and that you, thank fuck, didn’t die earlier today.

“Thanks,” you mumble against his perspirant skin.

He tugs the mask off, his hair sticking to his sweaty temple. “‘Course, darlin’. Though as hot as that was, I dunno about having sex wearin’ that again. I think I was startin’ to get light headed from the lack of air.”

You giggle, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. I liked it. But now anytime we have to wear them again I’m just gonna be thinkin’ about this. Gonna get a damn hard-on when I’m on patrol.”

You smirk, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He opens up beneath you immediately, moaning softly into your mouth. 

“Maybe that was my goal all along,” you mumble, smiling into the kiss.

He pulls back with a quirked brow and crooked grin. “You are into some sick kinds of torture.”

“I mean, if it gets you coming home to me quicker…”

“Oh I’ll be comin’, alright.”

Your face scrunches. “God, you’re sick. Why did I even marry you?”

His eyes melt, one hand squeezing your ass cheek, the other stroking your jaw. “Because you love me.”

That causes tears to well in your eyes again, because despite everything, despite all the fucked up things about this world, you do love him. You’re capable of loving him. And you’re grateful that, even with the terrible way life has treated him, he’s capable of loving you too.

“Yeah, I do,” you say.

He kisses you again, sweet and passionate and filled with all the things he never knows how to say. “I love you, too.”

[blueflipflops]

Another incorrect quotes for my OC as Aizen fic before I post the final chapter!

Part 1

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Aizen & Shinji @ each other: Asshole cat behavior🫵

....

Gin, about Aizen: Remember when he was mad at you and served you an assortment of funeral food?

Shinji: Yeah that was highly petty.

...

Random Rukon citizen: May Soumu-sama protect you, traveller!

Aizen, THE 'Soumu-sama', in disguise: let's fucking hope he does :)

...

Aizen @ a Division Meeting: —and if you have any suggestions, anything at all, please feel free to put them in the suggestion box!

Momo: Aizen thats a trash can.

Aizen: Sure is!

Shinji: No no he might be onto somethin-

...

Aizen: I can explain.

Shinji: Can you?

Aizen: If you give me 30 seconds to think of a lie—

...

*Division 5 Trio, doing paperwork and drinking sake at Shinji's office*

Aizen, suddenly: just once in my life I want to get up without experiencing the seven stages of grief.

Shinji: There are only five stages.

Momo: We're here for yo—

Gin, sneaked in to eat snacks: whats the extra two stages?

Aizen: Denial 2 and Astral Projection.

...

Shinji: *traps a spider under a cup*

Aizen: *appears and sets down two more identical cups *

Shinji: no wait–

Aizen: *starts shuffling the cups*

Shinji: NO

...

Aizen: Lying is not just a hobby. Its a national sport and I'm in the olympics with Kisuke and Shinji, the other two-faced bitches in this town.

...

Shinji: who? Sousuke? He's not evil. He just has a shitty personality. Which is almost the same.

...

Aizen, giving advice to his juniors: if you guys are ever thinking of suicide, don't do it. The Soul King doesn't want you to. The Soul King wants to kill you himself in his own special way

...

*In Canon Meets AU*

AU!Fifth Division, hearing about Evil!Canon!Aizen: Oh soul king… its the nicotine withdrawals isn't it? Its worse than we thought…

...

Shinji: Keep this shit up and I'll confiscate your cigarettes.

Aizen: *gasp* You wouldn't.

Shinji: Go ahead. Try me.

...

Aizen @ Canon! Shinji threatening to kill him: Huh… that was kinda… hot…

Shinji: what?

Aizen: Nothing

Canon!Shinji: what?

Aizen, full on blushing: NOTHING! LEAVE ME ALONE!!

...

Aizen: I think I would've thrived working and making one of those escape rooms thing

Aizen: that or I'd get too into my role that I'd get arrested for actual kidnapping and murder.

Aizen: ah. Well. That is, if I get caught. :)

...

Shinji: Remember that time when you planned an elaborate mystery game for the Fifth for 'Division Team Building Weekend'?

Aizen: Yes. It was painful to watch them miss simple clues and riddles. They've been doing this job for who knows how long, the least they could do is improve their observational skills.

...

Aizen: Do you mind if I light a smoke inside?

Shinji: Yes, I do mind.

Aizen: Shame... *lighting up a cig anyway*

...

Aizen: I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my mother.

Shinji: Literally, the more I learn about yer mother the more concerned I get.

...

It's me boy, im the ao3 inside your brain. Go read my Bleach fic, boy

[thebiggestfuckgiven]

a lil prompt for the few dp x marvel gremlins around. i see you and ily.

Be Like Danny:

-> get contacted by the X-freaking-Men to try to get you to join their school for mutants

-> say no because you can’t explain that you’re technically not a mutant, just half-dead

-> live a normal (Fenton standard normal) few months afterwards

-> get kidnapped from your own school by evil scientists (that surprisingly are NOT the GIW)

-> escape facility using your sheer wits (being annoying) and ingenious fighting strategies (screaming and blasting)

-> run away across rooftops from the guards hunting you down while being injured (and holy shit are we in new york??)

-> get distracted by trying to spot the empire state building

-> get shot with a tranquilizer by aforementioned guards

-> painfully fall down into an alleyway, without seeing the empire state building (boo)

-> begin passing out but not before you see some red guy with literal horns (satan??) fight off the baddies after you

-> wake up hours later in satan’s lawyer’s (???) office, confused, dazed, and a little scared

-> pretend to still be passed out while desperately thinking up how to explain why guys with guns were chasing you down in the middle of new york without getting dragged off to the police

-> hope for the best

Random Excerpt-

Matt didn’t feel comfortable leaving the tranq’d (and fully knocked out) teen out in an abandoned alley. Very few people would, out here in Hell’s Kitchen. He also didn’t feel like bringing in a potential new problem into his home, so he decided on the next best place: the office.

Needless to say, Foggy was scared near shitless when Matt burst into their office in full Daredevil regalia with an unconscious boy in his arms. In Matt’s defense, Foggy wasn’t supposed to be here. He sent out a small thanks to God that at least Karen was nowhere to be seen. Heard. Semantics.

“Is that a kid? Oh my god, Matty, are you carrying a dead kid around? Is there a dead kid in our office?”

Language, Matt bit back.

Foggy’s heart beat a violent staccato as he followed Matt into their conference room, breathing stuttering when Matt laid the kid down on the table and his head turned limply to the side, his hair softly shuffling against the metal.

“Matt!”

Foggy waved his hands around wildly, the sound fluttering in Matt’s ears. Without a word, he grabbed Foggy’s arm and dragged him out of the room.

“Please keep calling me by my name in front of a stranger,” he hissed out, annoyed.

“In case it may have passed your attention, that stranger is unconscious. Or dead, for all I know! Because you haven’t said a damn word since you slammed your way in here by the way!” Foggy was whisper shouting, staying close to Matt’s side. He could almost see how Foggy’s eyes were wide, if he tried hard enough. Listened closely enough.

“He’s not dead,” he let out before walking to the front door to lock it and make sure no one was around.

There was a light slap sound as Foggy raised his hands in a pointless gesture and brought them against his legs.

“Oh, yeah, that’s reassuring,” he said to himself, but not bothering to hide it. Matt heard him walk back to the conference room. He held back a sigh, ignoring it for the time being. There hadn’t been anyone following them, but he’s been doing this long enough to know that some people knew how to keep their distance well, or even knew how to disguise their heart beats (God forbid the Hand had any involvement in this). They could even have a tracker on the kid.

Taking all of this into consideration, he would rather be safe than sorry. He was standing by the locked door, listening intently for any odd sounds outside the building or on any surrounding roofs. Like the same footsteps going by, feet shuffling as though someone was waiting, heavy breathing, the smell of gunpowder, or the sound of a bullet moving into its chamber.

He waited, hearing no signs. It was one minute before he heard the exact moment Foggy found the kid’s pulse.

“Matt,” he heard Foggy’s voice, a whisper. “He-he’s dead. He- oh my god, I’m going to be sick.

The kid’s pulse, or to anyone checking by regular means, lack thereof.

Matt waited one more second before moving away from the door to save himself from the stench of throw-up.

“I said he’s not dead.”

[blingblong55]

Sunshine- 141

This is based on a request:

Fluff, F!reader, Platonic! relationship, reader who had Tourettes.

You are literally the sunshine of Task Force 141. It was difficult to join the military and even more difficult to be where you are based on your condition. Having Tourettes is something that you still struggle to bury deep. But after being assigned to Price, more like he picked you up one day and you became his child, anyways he had become your protector. If a new recruit would ask why the sergeant was allowed to say random shit and do random stuff out of nowhere Price would make them run a lap around base.

You whistled, catching the attention of the recruits, "two birds in a pod!" you exclaim, they giggle like little kids. You ashamed because you couldn't control this one look down. Price signals for Ghost to take you elsewhere while he gives them a lesson. "So have you seen ghost lately?"

"no..." you whistle and snap your fingers, "two birds in a pod!"

"C'mere kid." he joyfully looks down at you as his arm rests around your shoulder. You smile up at him. In his many years of service not once had he met another person who can just make him laugh. You, after the first time Price made ghost run around base for a while, assured him that he and a few others were allowed to laugh at your little ticks. He found it adorable, how he could say something stupid and you'd repeat it over and over. He loved how if he felt like being a prick to Soap was needed, then you should be around to remember his words, you of course would be excused for your vulgar language, he wouldn't, but its worth the punishment.

"Soap the proper wanker, wanking along base." you would say at times when you felt awkward in a room. Poor Soap would just blush and look down at the ground, the others would remember your, well Ghosts wise words and would repeat to him over comms.

During mission you and Gaz were assigned as a team. This was because price was tired of seeing how much of a bad influence Ghost could be on your while you two were paired up. Before and after a mission, Ghost would talk to price, asked him, no, begged him to please return you to him. "No, you are already on probation for what you taught her last mission, I cant afford another long meeting with the other officers. "Soap the proper wanker, wanking along base" you voice echoed on the hall, it caused Ghost to laugh so hard, he had tears coming out of his eyes. Price was sure you and him were the reason for his next aneurysm.

"No R/n, it's tippy toppy I wanna see poppy" Gaz was forced to teach you a few stuff that could stick instead of the mean and slander against soap. You soon adapted this, changing a few things.

During a serious mission, Price was up front, revising a plan and adjusting a few things. All of the sudden you got anxious, "tippy tappy I wanna see Gaz as a toppy." You snapped your fingers. Gaz soon was on probation for it. "Gaz!" Price scolded.

Soap literally fell to the floor every time he heard it, Ghost literally patted your back and as he too started to reach the floor, he said "please let her continue with her nonsense." He was referring to price having you on watch duty instead of the field, where at least you could stay quiet and learn less 'funny' stuff from the men.

Lately as you watched a crime show, you adapted "wheels up in 30" and through out days you repeated, with the same monotone voice as the character. Price got you in trouble this time, because many soldiers and newbies waited for hours by the heli pad, all thinking they were going on an unknown mission. You cleaned the toilets, only for like 2 minutes. Because how could he ever punish you.

This still goes on, it has been years since you and the team started working together. And as a usual thing for you, you fucked up one time. All thanks to Ghost(he encouraged you to watch a special), who made bets with Gaz on what you'll say when you all meet Soaps newborn.

Unfortunate for him, his wife and you, you just recently watched a John Mulaney special on the telly. As you all nervously walled up to your comrades home, you were nervous. Your ticks were getting the best of you. Price and Ghost put their hands on your back, trying to just calm your anxiety out.

You met the beautiful baby boy. "Look lass, this is my son!" he brought his son to you.

"Awe he's" you softly said, "👹 UGLY👹 " you accidentally said, Soap literally just stared at you without saying a word. "thats his doing." his wife said, laughing at your funny reaction. Ghost and Gaz had to excuse themselves to a different room. Although they thought they were saving themselves from any unwanted frowns, their deep and loud laughter gave them up. When they came back into the room, Price smacked the back of their head. "sorry sir." they both said.

̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з= ( ▀ ͜͞ʖ▀) =ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿

A/N: hi, so I by some fucked up mystery deleted the original one, so here's this one that I so did not write in a rush. XOXO bitches

to 🐣 , thanks for this request. Also im not really educated (much at least) in this disorder so if you think this was offense or not accurate, please do let me know

REQUEST ARE OPEN!!

[bordysbae]

“accidents”

luke hughes x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

you've been best friends with luke for genuinely as long as you could remember. your moms grew up together, and happened to have kids around the same age. your older brother being in between quinn and jack, and you and luke being the same age. since you and luke are so close, everyone always assumes you two are dating, and honestly sometimes you guys act like it, but you’re both always quick to state that you're just best friends.

currently, you're staying at the hughes' lake house. every summer both of your families stay for a month at the lake house, which is something everyone looks forward to. the lake house has nothing but the purest and happiest memories in it, and it's a second home to you.

"y/n go shower you take 20 years to get ready and we wanna leave soon" jack says as he looks up at you from across the living room. "yeah literally, go!" quinn says as he smacks your arm, pushing you off of the couch playfully

"yeah fine whatever, you're both so annoying" you roll your eyes at them as you head upstairs to the bathroom. you start selecting music on your phone as you wait for the shower to heat up. as you finish making the queue, you see the glass doors become foggy, which is your sign to get in. you're peacefully taking a shower, when all of a sudden you see the white door begin to open, and when your eyes are met with the face of luke hughes, you shriek.

"OH MY GOD LUKE!" you scream, immediately covering your body as he quickly closes the door.

"holy shit!" he says with his hand still on the door knob. you quickly finish up your shower and hurry out of the bathroom. as you're walking to your bedroom, which originally was an office/spare bedroom that quickly became yours over the years, you pass by lukes room. which is right across from yours. you see him laying on his bed, and you softly knock on the door frame. he looks up from his phone, and his cheeks go bright red. "you can uh— you can use the bathroom now" you say awkwardly as you quickly turn around and beeline it straight to your room.

you soon finish your makeup and hair, and quinn starts yelling at you to hurry up as you’re putting on your shoes. "quinn i'm seriously gonna smack you if you keep rushing me, i'm literally putting on my shoes right now"

"please smack him, i'd pay to see that" your brother chimes in, earning a playful tackle from quinn. you stand up from the chair, and adjust the tongue of your shoes. you walk into the kitchen to tell the adults that you're ready, and you accidentally make eye contact with luke. his eyes immediately dart away from yours. never before have things with luke ever been this awkward, but you hate it.

"um? that was weird why are they not talking?" you hear your brother whisper to jack and quinn. "no clue man" quinn whispers back. "that was.. something" jack replies in a whisper like tone. you sigh softly and inform everyone that you're ready to leave.

—

you guys all go out for lunch, and usually whenever you're at this restaurant you and luke order the same thing every time, and end up switching plates halfway through the meal. you always order a sandwich, and luke always gets the pizza. it had become a ritual to swap plates, but this time you guys were on opposite sides of the table instead of next to each other.

you know that everyone is confused on what  happened with you two, since you're receiving weird looks from everyone, even the parents. those weird looks are from everyone but luke, he won't look at you. and if he does look at you its for half a second before he looks back down at the ground.

you hate this feeling more than anything. you and luke have gotten in fights before, but at least you knew his emotions during those times. right now, you have no idea how he feels and it's eating you alive. after what felt like a million years, everyone is finally finished and ready to go back to the house. as you're rising up from the table, your mom whispers in your ear.

"are you and luke okay?" "i don't know mom. i hate this" you sigh. "come in the car with me and ellen, we'll force all of the boys to fit in jim's car.” you chuckle, "okay"

you all get situated in the cars, and you're with ellen and your mom. "so honey, what happened?" ellen asks, as she looks at you through the rear-view mirror. "god, it's so embarrassing" you say as your cheeks get really hot from the memory.

"just tell us, we're woman we understand" ellen smiles. “well, luke walked in on me in the shower today. i have no idea what he saw, but we haven't talked since."

"oh my" your mom says, holding back a laugh. “oh lord that is not what i was expecting. okay well, he's probably a little overwhelmed. especially since it's you, y/n. you're his best friend. he probably feels like he just violated you. i think you guys need to talk, because this isn’t something that you guys should lose a friendship over" ellen says

"i agree, luke's a teenage boy. he's probably pissing his pants just thinking about it. you should talk to him, let him know that's it's okay" your mom says. "ugh you guys are the best, i'll talk to him when we get home" you smile softly

—

you guys all get home at the same time, and you decide now is the perfect time to talk with luke. he’s cleaning his room, while the other boys are playing chel. you knock on his door frame to let him know you’re there, and he turns around and gets bright red when he sees you. "oh, uh- uh, hey y/n" he stutters

"can i come in?" you say quietly. "yeah of course, come sit" he says, sitting down on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to him.

"luke, about earlier i-" "i'm sorry" you both say at the same time

"why are you sorry?" he asks you. "i don't know, i just am" you shrug. "i'm really sorry. i thought jack was in the shower, and i was just gonna grab my deodorant off of the counter, but it uh- it wasn't jack. i knocked and asked if i could come in, and i heard music that sounded like jacks playlist so i thought it was him" he says quickly, defending himself

"luke relax it's alright, but i do have one question. did you um- see anything?" you say scratching the back of your neck. "no i didn't, i closed my eyes as soon as i opened the door" he lied. he definitely saw something, but he didn't want to make you feel anymore embarrassed than you already were, he felt bad enough as is.

"oh alright good." there's a strange silence between you both, which is broken when luke impulsively blurts out, “y/n i like you, a lot. i've liked you since like 8th grade, and i just really need to know if you feel the same"

"oh luke of course i do." you say, with a blush creeping on your cheeks. "you do?" he says, finally looking up at you, with a beaming smile. "yeah, i've liked you for awhile now" you say, looking into his eyes. and before you know it your lips are on his, and your heart feels like it's sparking.

"so what does this make us?" you ask quietly pulling away from the kiss. "my girlfriend?" he asks you. "absolutely" you smirk

"okay now that that's out of the way, i did see something earlier i just didn't want to tell you" he blurted, causing your mouth to fall agape. "i mean, that's not really how i expected it to happen" he chuckles

"woah woah woah, you've imagined how you were gonna see me naked for the first time? you are SO weird luke" you say smacking his chest playfully. "shut up, you know you've imagined me naked before"

you couldn't lie, you had.

"exactly, stay silent." "oh shut up you horn dog, now let's go play chel" you say taking his hand leading him downstairs

[vypridae]

YOU HAVE HCS

GIVE :D

(i love hearing hcs literally RAMBLE if you want to:D)

OAHAOGHAOFDHA WELL. OKAY IF YOU SAY SO

under a cut bc i feel like im gonna overexplain or talk about waaay too many HSJKGHDFG

dazai needs glasses. he doesn't get them for himself because he thinks he can put it off. kunikida ends up getting him those circle glasses and he's like "noooo i don't want these i'll look like a nerd" but kunikida makes him keep them anyway bc he uses his lack of Vision as an excuse to not do his work. he thinks hes gonna get teased for looking stupid but everyone thinks he looks absolutely GORGEOUS and he gets like 10x more compliments on the street

dazai has morse code memorized and likes to fuck with kunikida in the ada dorms by tapping a message on his wall. kunikida has Overstressed trying to translate

yosano accidentally will infodump on neat medfacts and someone always has to tell her she's rambling (and usually its ranpo)

kyouka's favorite animals are bunnies, chinchillas and kittens, but she's allergic to cats (imagine how awful it is living with atsushi /j)

it is very funny to me to imagine akutagawa gets easily scared

hirotsu is the aroace ally who gets to deal with everyone coming to him to rant about / talk shit about / talk about their crushes on others

Q speaks fluent german and they love jumpscaring the pm members with it

louisa loves to dress up her room whenever she uses her ability. she doesn't really need to, she just likes to. maybe she'll have some coffee, and a really comfortable chair, and some lilac or pumpkin spice candles depending on her Vibe TM, and its just so aesthetic

nikolai can replicate signatures, and by extension handwriting, almost perfectly. he uses this to his advantage to forge notes. he also uses this to help sigma when he's Super Fucking Tired

sigma's favorite cookies are double chocolate chip

dazai trying the pocky game vs chuuya who just takes the pocky, kisses dazai, and then eats the pocky

poe visits ranpo while hes in the agency and he'll bring a new snack for ranpo every single time, it's always something he's heard ranpo offhandedly say he wants to try

nikolai is a WONDERFUL cook. if he notices sigma hasn't eaten in a little while / hasnt left his office in a bit, he'll surprise him and show up with a plate of homecooked ukrainian food, or homemade cookies (double chocolate chip), and sigma is soooo grateful. i also think nikolai knows what sigma likes in terms of coffee so he makes him coffees a lot because sigma is so sleepy and gets caffeine headaches

tecchou refuses to eat food thats not the same color, but he's actually a really good cook and jouno is genuinely surprised when tecchou makes him an actually delicious breakfast/dinner/whatever, and hes like "so does this mean you're done with your weird food combinations?" and tecchou is like "no, but i know you don't like them so i'm not going to force you to eat them." and jouno is like. wait. hold on. why are you nice

[ramrage]

“fitting a square peg into a square peg” or “and they both were tops”

chapter 5: the cat, in three parts

work rating: E

chapter rating: T

characters: John “Soap” MacTavish, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick cameo, John Price cameo

Tags: Sexual Tension, terrible flirting, Masturbation, First Time Bottoming, Fantasizing

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

ao3 link

PART 1: THE CAT THAT GOT THE CREAM

Remember that part where Soap wished Ghost’s big ass body would crush him to death? Right, scratch that, actually.

Call it what you want—post-nut clarity or crushing asphyxiation-induced hypoxemia, but the whole notion was kind of losing its charm. Soap was actually sort of shocked. Wanting some distance from Ghost? Unthinkable.

All the same, he did, though under the fight-or-flight response was the sweetness of being pressed so close, sweaty skin to sweaty skin, and Ghost was still in him.

Couldn’t fucking breathe, though.

He gave Ghost a moment or two to catch his breath, gentleman that he was, before tapping twice against his flank.

“Ghost,” he said, strained, when the massive body on top of him didn’t move. In fact, it hardly responded, just groaned a little. “Ghost, you’re crushing me.”

This seemed to light the fire under Ghost’s ass and all at once, the weight on top of him and inside of him was gone, leaving Soap shockingly free but also empty. “Fuck, sorry ‘bout that.”

“All good,” Soap said after ripping a couple deep breaths. With the oxygen returning to his brain, the reality of the situation hit him. He took inventory of the important bits:

- There was cum oozing down his ass

- It was Ghost’s cum

- Holy shit

- Ghost fucked him. Fucking hell.

- and Ghost was still there, panting, to the left of him.

Instead of addressing any of this, Soap decided to say something intelligent.

“Why do you have a bed in your office?”

“It works for me,” Ghost reasoned, not particularly pressed about it. He was still busy sucking air into his body. Fair enough.

“Right.”

Situation Inventory item number 1 was a new feature of the post-coital experience for Soap, and he felt a pang of remorse for all the sorry sods he’d placed in such a position. As Ghost was doing presently, he was used to just lying there, waiting for his soul to do a few laps around the room before rejoining his body, none the wiser that his partners were dripping uncomfortably below or to the side of him—he never left them waiting too long, but all the same, he wasn’t hip to how pressing the matter could be.

Maybe they were used to it or otherwise didn’t mind, but Soap wasn’t quite at that point in his Bottom Journey yet. “Do you have anything I can…” he glanced at his filthy body hoping it was enough to convey his need. For a handful of reasons, he didn’t really feel like bringing words to his leaking ass.

Ghost grunted—apparently his post-nut language of choice—before heaving his body up on a forearm to better survey the room. “I’ve got a shirt,” he offered after a moment or two. Charming.

“Alright, you wanna get it or would you prefer I drip around your office?”

“Fuck, Soap, need a second to catch my breath,” Ghost whined, rolling off the bed as requested nonetheless, like a naked, grumpy butler.

Soap smirked, “Thought I gave you plenty of time to recover. Can’t keep up, old man?”

PART 2: CURIOSITY KILLS THE CAT

A displeased noise crawled from Ghost’s throat as he tossed a shirt Soap’s way, and it was probably no accident that it landed perfectly across Soap’s face, the fucken arsehole. “I’m not old,” Ghost grumbled with averted eyes, sounding pissed, of course, but almost a little…bashful? How fucken sweet. He seemed to debate something internally before continuing, “that was just…”

Soap waited for the end of the sentence, but it never came. Speaking of “came” and its various conjugations, he took sick pleasure in wiping the cum from his arsecrack with his commanding officer’s tee shirt—a cherry on top of his most literal interpretation of “fuck authority” to date. He respected authority plenty, but he chafed at it all the same. “Aw, what, L.t.? Did I fuck you senseless?”

It was with the same reticence that Ghost eventually swallowed and told Soap to piss off, but the lack of heat made it easy for Soap to delude himself into believing that yes, he did fuck his Lieutenant senseless. Delusion though it may have been, it was a necessary one because Soap would’ve otherwise crawled out of his skin at the fragile, fawn-legged silence that followed.

Maybe Ghost needed space despite—or as a direct result—of all they had just done. That made sense. Soap played it casual as he quietly got dressed, as if he wasn’t a bit let down, as if he didn’t feel like a butterfly specimen on pins under Ghost’s eyes, which resolutely watched him in their peripheral, if at all. He was just as fucking cool, calm, and collected when he bid Ghost goodnight and shut the door behind him.

The first thing he did when he got to his room was hop in the shower to finish the job Ghost’s tee shirt couldn’t complete. Ah, the old shower. Another monument to this interesting history. He huffed a laugh, just to himself, when he reached between his legs like he had that first time, just for very different reasons.

“Good god, man,” he thought to himself, “get out of your head. You got what you wanted. Why are you acting so fucken bizarre?”

It’s not like he realistically expected any more than he’d gotten, and realistically, he’d gotten more than he expected. He just had the best lay of his life but was moping around because what? They didn’t cuddle afterwards? Pathetic.

Falling into bed afterwards was easy, falling into sleep was easy enough, too. His unease was fighting a losing battle against his sated and tired body. He spent those twilight moments thinking about cats, weird that it was.

He was the cat that got the cream (ha), but he couldn’t help but remember that curiosity also killed the cat.

On the other hand, satisfaction brought them back. And then that thing about their nine lives. All nonsensical bullshit of a half-wake brain but all the same fitting, fitting stuff because he was feeling like a complete and total pussy.

————————————

Soap was actually rather proud of how he handled the post-shag days, and the good behavior wasn’t easily-earned. No, not by any stretch of the definition, but he was an SAS man, for christ’s sake, and that meant he was no stranger to self-discipline.

If he wasn’t, he would’ve avoided Ghost like the fucking plague which, coincidentally, he was very much tempted to do whenever he caught sight of Ghost’s hulking figure. Aptly fucking named, because the man made himself scarce as all hell, haunting the periphery of Soap’s existence.

Soap wasn’t sure how he wanted to categorize this.

On the one hand, he was pleased to not have to steel himself and strap a mask of normalcy to his sweaty face, but on the other hand, he wanted to take the awkwardness, hold it in his hands and squeeze until something came out of it—bitter or sweet, it didn’t matter.

All the same, he thought he handled the few moments of interaction with as much grace as one could. Like nothing had ever happened. Like he didn’t know how Ghost tasted or felt, or how he sounded when he came undone.

Even though Soap craved to, he knew better than to push this fragile, fragile issue. And god, did he want to push it.

If the pre-shag days were foreplay, this was edging, but if edging was fucking horrible and you were never sure if you were actually going to get off. Actually, no. This wasn’t edging, this was limbo. This was a dice roll, this was throwing cookies in the oven and hoping they came our delicious and not like hockey pucks, this was—fuck the terrible metaphors—excruciating.

Excruciating, just like how the day was shaping up. At Price’s behest, Soap would be running drills with Ghost. Terrific.

Soap took the news with nothing but collected normalcy, arrived at the training grounds with nothing but collected normalcy, and tried his best to greet Ghost with nothing but collected normalcy, but it came out a bit cockeyed, to be honest.

“Hey up, Ghost,” Soap said in what he aimed to be his typical, gregarious nature. But c’mon, what Scotsman says fucking hey up. In his defense, he was trying his very damnedest to not say “Hey, Ghost. Remember when you fucked my ass? Good times. Anyways, drills!” Soap did no such thing—a win in his book—but kicked himself for letting the cringe show on his expression.

Ghost’s face pinched in confusion, but he mercifully kept it minimal. “Morning, Sergeant,” he shot back, and ow, Sergeant? Rather stiff.

Thus concluded their idle chat for the day. Any other words they spared each other were direct, utilitarian, and absolutely boiling with unvoiced bullshit.

But not unnoticed. Like Soap, Ghost was stiffer than usual (impressive), and didn’t slip once in his stiffness from start to finish. By the end of the session, the recruits were aching for a shower, and Soap was aching for a cigarette. Or booze. He wasn’t feeling particularly picky.

Ultimately, the cigarette won out, if only for the social pressure against day drinking, and that’s how Soap found himself leaning against a sun-scraped wall on the base’s western face.

Despite the shite mood that had taken him hostage, he had to admit that it was a nice day. Real nice. Autumn had turned the saturation up on the sky, painting it azure, striking and endless against the reddening leaves on the horizon. It smelled like Autumn and like cigarettes, crisp and acrid, just as it did the day Soap took up smoking.

Him and a gaggle of chums he’d long since fallen out of contact with leaned up against a wall, feeling awfully grown up and cool. Soap often thought back to that day just because he found it so funny. He’d dedicated himself to a new vice just for the sake of looking cool, leading to an addiction that outlasted the friendships that brought him there as well as the desire to look cool.

He sucked in a drag and, holding it close in his chest, wondered if he was actually addicted to making stupid decisions. On the exhale, he decided that it was less stupidity and more impulsivity. It didn’t really matter, he thought as he flicked the ashes, because whatever the motivation, he was left to juggle the consequences all the same. And he didn’t really like those.

His wallet was all the lighter, his skin a bit duller, teeth yellower, scent shittier for all the packs he’d run through. Just for the sake of being the bad boy. He cursed his vanity and his cowardice because even in the safety of his mind, he didn’t want to admit that maybe hooking up with Ghost was another bead on his long necklace of mistakes.

The thought was there, he just didn’t want to let it into the spotlight. Didn’t want to make it real.

A half-brown, half-orange leaf fluttered clumsily into a puddle. “Same, brother,” Soap scoffed.

“Huh?” came the reply he wasn’t expecting.

“Whuh?”

“You said something,” noted Ghost as he rounded the corner in what would be an amble were he not so fucking stiff.

Soap shrugged, doing his best to keep his surprise and abject terror to himself. “Ah, just talking to myself.”

“‘M sorry you have such a shite audience,” Ghost joked in his own personal brand of casualness. He settled his back against the wall, too, leaving ample breathing room between their shoulders.

If it weren’t for the honking elephant in the room, it’d be sort of nice just standing there, drinking in the rare nice day.

Eventually Ghost tilted his head Soap’s way, eyes focused on some faraway tree. “Mind if I bum a fag?”

Soap snorted, “You gotta be joking me.” He closed his eyes and indulged himself another chuckle at the idiocy. Maybe it was a mistake to acknowledge the elephant, but Ghost seemed more at ease than he had in days, and the blue sky was making Soap feel brave.

Maybe it wasn’t a mistake, because Ghost started laughing, too.

“Thought you already did that,” Soap teased as he dug the pack from his pocket and offered it to Ghost once it was open.

Ghost reached for it but stopped short and hit Soap with a quizzical look, “Giving away your lucky?”

“Eh, it’s all superstition.”

“Then why flip it if it’s just superstition?” Ghost pocketed the empty pack once his cigarette was lit, and passed back the lighter that had rested within it. Soap pointedly didn’t gawk at the exposed portion of Ghost’s face as he palmed the lighter.

“Something to do,” Soap responded with a shrug, finding no better explanation. The lit end of his cigarette was creeping all too quickly to the filter, and he cursed his choice in cheap, fast-burning brands. Usually he was happy with a low-commitment smoke, but now… Now he was a bit distraught to see his excuse for enjoying a surprisingly normal moment with Ghost literally smolder into ash. The silence was less awkward if it could be chalked up to their mouths being occupied by other pursuits.

Soap angled the tip of his cigarette upwards to slow its burn, to buy just a few more seconds. If he was going to say something, the time to do so was visibly running out. Awkward things like these were harder to address the longer they’d had to linger.

So he took a decisive drag and counted down from 3…

2…

1…

fuck it.

PART 3: THE CAT HAS NINE LIVES

“Can we cut the bullshit?” Soap said on an exhale. Ghost finally looked at him and Soap didn’t see anything like surprise in his eyes. “I just want to make sure we’re…cool. You know, don’t want to let anything get in the way of what we have to do.”

Ghost took it in, took another drag and nodded. “Cool,” he mused with a half-hearted smirk that spoke to surrender.

Soap rolled his eyes. “I know I’m no fucking Shakespeare, Ghost. Leave it out.”

“Thank fuck you aren’t.” And there was that look of surrender again. “I’m solid,” Ghost eventually said, “I’m solid if you are.”

“So solid you treat me like a leper? What was that about?” Soap responded, but not unkindly. He was well aware of the awkwardness, having experienced it himself and all, and without Ghost’s emotional… issues, at that.

The whisper of breeze-swept leaves filled the empty space as Ghost considered his words. “I was thinking.”

“Of?”

“I don’t know,” Ghost said around a mouth of smoke. “How to not fuck this up?”

“Friendly tip: don’t avoid me next time,” Soap offered, crushing the spent butt under his boot. He pressed off the wall, brave lad he was, and faced Ghost. “Because I do want a next time. If you’d have me.”

“I would,” Ghost said simply, finding confidence somewhere in Soap’s words. Soap couldn’t help but grin and look terribly corny, but he could sense Ghost had more to say, and so he left the silence hanging, free to take. If not then, then eventually. “I think not knowing—I think that’s what held me back.”

Weightless. Soap felt weightless. He shifted in his boots to remind himself of the solid earth beneath him, but he felt too buoyant to ground down. He was addicted to impulsivity, after all. So that’s why he stepped to crowd in Ghost’s space, to pluck the half-smoked cigarette from his cold fingers, to hold his gaze and then break it, to eye up those soft-parted lips. “So we’re cool, then?”

Soap hardly felt cut down when Ghost rolled his eyes, heaved out a long-suffering sigh. Maybe he would’ve if it didn’t feel so fond, and what did that matter when Ghost tilted his chin up, a slight invitation to claim what he was so clearly seeking. And who was Soap to deny a vice?

Impulsive but not idiotic, Soap kissed Ghost for just a moment, and it was enough. Enough, at least, to drive a stake through the heart of his worries. Enough to even remotely satisfy his desires? Absolutely not.

But it would have to do.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Soap said, stepping back only enough for the scene to look less suspicious. Visibility be damned, he wanted to jump Ghost’s bones.

“God, you’re fucking insufferable. Yes.” Ghost said, and then a mischievous look spreading across the exposed features of his face.

“What?”

“I said I’d have you,” he began, voice strained slightly as he pushed off the wall to leaned in next to Soap’s ear. The next words were a whisper, “and I’ve done some experimenting, too. How would you like having me?”

BUT SATISFACTION BROUGHT HIM BACK

-fin-

[mattslolita]

okayyy basically first period we had religious studies an cuz im just soo smart i got like 84 out of 96 on my christianity and islam paper. 😇we did the test before the holidays an they gave the results back ONLY now 😒 anyway thats completly irelevant... 🤣 but we hav a new seating plan AGAINNN and i sit next to my boyfriend woooo!! but.. he kept saying he was sleepy cuz he slept for 3 hours only. so he kept leaning on me and my teacher kept tellin him to get off of me 😭

then 2nd i cant even remeber what we had but the teacher gave him a detention cuz he had trainers on instead of "school schoes" LMAO! but the thing is they literally nike air forces like, jus got a logo an its an issue? same style shoes from fucking idk KICKERS 😭 would be PERFECTLEY fine! he was also in a bad mood cuz he dint sleep 😤 so he was arguin with him and ended up gettin taken out the class.. they srsly worry bout the stupidest things but things like bullying or EVEN racism r just IGNORED!!!!! for example one of my friends wears a hijab and theres this old ass teacher whos jewish (not an issue but it needs to be said for my point!)who keeps giving her dirty looks and saying things in arabic to her but she dont understand it? one boy who can understand him once said he told her she was "going to hell" and "following the wrong religion". LIKE? WHAT THE ACTUALLL FUCK? hes disgusting!!! hes also... got an israel flag in his classroom? like hows that even allowed? not even the point that i support palestine. its the fact theyre allowed to hav that in their room and its not an issue? cuz things like fucking voting for a new prime minister was kept secret by teachers cuz apparently they dont want "to influence us" but thats okay and wont influence ANYONE???? MAKE IT MAKE SENSE? yuckkk

then last period we had maths and my bf kept complaining that his head was hurtin and cuz the schl wont let u go to the ofice to get paracetamol or any medication during lesons, we bring our own.. (which SUPRISEEE!! is not allowed) and i went to give him one and this fucking bitch comes up to me and says that i should not be bringing that to school, who knows if that actually medicine, and that ill need to go the head teacher to explain y i decided do that as it was unsafe. 🤣 like 3 years ago they sent my friend home for taking paracetamol at schl cuz they thought he was gonna overdose? uhhh he had 1? 1!!!!!!! LMAO! he had a HEADACHE!! i said i wasnt going bc i dint actually DO anything and we would just waste time for literally no reason.. ofc she didnt like that and said i was talking back an being disrespectufl. i went but the head teacher kinda likes me so she said it was okay but i shouldnt do it again and i said i wouldnt (absolutle fucking lie) then when i came bakck my boyfriend took his water bottle and said to me "ive got vodka in here" and i said "thought u said u stopped all that" as A JOKE! bc i know he obviously DOES NOT hav vodka in his bottle LMAO. but this teacher was like "well now i need to smell it to see if ur being serious" he started laughing an got sent out 😭 its actually becoming an issue atp LOLL.

ughhh cant wait to leaveeee!!!!! and SORRY its SO LONG 🫢

good job on ur religions test love !! so proud of you 🫶

here they go messing w ur bf again😭😫 AND UNT UNT THAT TEACHER MESSING WITH UR ARABIC FRIEND ??? HE'LL REALLY CATCH THESE HANDS CAUSE YOU NOT FINNA GIVE POOKIE DIRTY LOOKS & TALK SHIT THE FUCK ?? AND HES A FUCKING ISRAEL SUPPORTER WHAT THE FUCK.

ur school is weird as fuck, like the rules & shit don't make no sense to me. anyone should be allowed to go to the medical office if their feeling sick or just not feeling well like wdf ??

[sea-owl]

Oh Colin is gonna go absolutely feral once his queen comes back 8 months pregnant waddling around the palace like a penguin like he's one snap of a hairthread away from bubble wrapping Penelope and locking her away in a tower. Francesca had to give him a potion to calm his ass down because he quadruple checked every crook and cranny of the palace in the last hour making sure its baby proof. This himbo king is gonna fistfight the wind if it made Pen shiver and eradicate every dust particle in the underworld if Pen sneezed ONCE. Like please give me my himbo king who's stupidly in love and goes batshit insane at anything that even mildly inconveniences his queen i love him 😂

Anonymous asked: Please, please tell us more about pregnant Penelope’s return to the underworld. I’m just picturing the scene in my head, and it’s either cute or hilarious.

I'm dying. I made Lord Featherington a wind god in this. So now I'm imagining Colin fistfighting him because HOW DARE HE MAKE COLIN'S WIFE AND THE QUEEN OF THE UNDERWORLD SHIVER! It can be a bonding experience for Colin and Portia.

Here's something on Penelope's return.

"Thank you Phillip," Penelope said as they were finishing their trek into the Underworld. "I know it hasn't been easy with me and Eloise being pregnant at the same time."

Phillip shook his head. "She is my wife and you are my friend Penelope. Plus it is quite literally my job to guide souls down to the Underworld, the queen being no exception."

Penelope giggled as she opened the door to Bloomsbury Palace, and then she blinked. She looked again and yup someone completely redecorated the inside. It looked like someone remade the inside of the palace into a pillow fort. Wall the walls and floors were made out of the squish material. Every piece of furniture looked like it had it's corners rounded off, while the vases that held Penelope's plants were now fastened to shelves on the walls. Actually Penelope didn't mind the shelf design, maybe she get some for her office.

"Penelope," Phillip whispered, his eyes taking in the scene around him. "Do you want me to stay a little longer?"

"No, no," Penelope said. "Eloise is waiting for you. I'll find the others soon enough."

"Are you sure?" Phillip asked.

"Yes. Now go before Eloise decides to another fish in the twins' beds," Penelope said.

Phillip shuddered. It took forever to get the fish smell out of Amanda's bed the last time Eloise did that. Phillip hates fish too so that had not been fun.

Penelope waved her friend and right hand goodbye before turning back to what used to be her home.

"I'll guess I'll look in the throne room first," Penelope muttered to herself.

Penelope began her waddled and immediately began cursing whoever authorized this change. This was not easy for her to walk on, and her balance was already not that great with the baby kicking all over Penelope's stomach. About ten steps in Penelope gave up and used her powers to float around the palace.

The throne room wasn't any better as it was covered it the same pillow material as the rest of the palace. Hell her throne looked to be made out of this material too! What the hell was going on?

"Oh thank Chaos you're home!"

Penelope looked up to see Francesca running forward as fast as she could on the pillow floor. It wasn't that fast to be hones.

"Fran what is going on?" Penelope asked.

"Your husband has lost his damn mind!" Francesca exclaimed. "Colin has turned the entire palace into this! Everything and anything has been baby proofed. The guards don't even wear their normal armor instead he's given them this stuffed padding. I thought Felicity was fistfight him when he suggested damming the rivers near the palace because 'what if the baby fell in?'"

"Why would the baby be even near the rivers?" Penelope asked.

Francesca threw her hands up. "That's what we said!"

Penelope's hand covered her mouth as she looked around once more. Oh shit this was all her husband's doing. "Let me talk to him. Where is he?"

"In your room," Francesca answered. "Michael dumped him there after I gave him a potion to knock him out for a few minutes of peace. It should be wearing off soon if it hasn't already."

Penelope nodded and teleported to the room she shared with her husband. Colin was indeed awake and . . . Penelope wasn't quite sure what he was doing.

"Husband," Penelope called out.

Colin looked up and his face brightened. "Pen!" Teleporting to her said Colin pulled Penelope in for a kiss. "My beautiful wife, how are you?"

"Very confused," Penelope said. "Colin what is going on? Why does our home look like the inside of a pillow fort?"

"I'm helping you!" Colin answered with a grin. "I baby proofed the palace."

Penelope did not return her husband's smile. This in turn caused Colin's to fall. "What's wrong Pen?"

"Colin this is more of a hinderance than anything. I can't even walk properly," Penelope answered truthfully.

Colin's face fell further. "Oh."

An idea came to Penelope's mind, something she's been excited to try for when she finally came home. She had seen Phillip and Eloise do it. Penelope had been jealous of the bliss that had been on Eloise's face. "I do have a way you can help me though if you turn everything back to the way it was before."

Colin looked up "Oh?" He snapped his fingers and the marble walls and flooring came back.

Penelope turned around and pulled her husband to her back. Placing his hands underneath her stomach. "Gently lift and hold it," Penelope instructed.

Colin did just that and Penelope could have sworn she could have moaned at that moment. She would swear the feeling was better than what they did to put the baby in there. The pain in her back had elevated and her head fell back against her husband.

At that exact moment baby decided it didn't like being ignored and kicked where daddy's hand was.

Colin looked down at Penelope. "Was that?"

Penelope nodded. "Yeah, that's baby."

Pure and utter adoration covered her husband's face. Kissing the side of her head as his thumbs massage against her stomach.

Penelope felt at bliss. Though this did prove to her that for all future kids she has to plan them so she gives birth in the Underworld. If Colin was like this the she was gone for most of her pregnancy Chaos only knows what he would do should she give birth up on the surface.

[swampstew]

What's the Magic Word?

Chapter 16: Growing and Learning Chapter mentions pregnancy again, some One Piece spoilers, and TW: description of birth control insertion - IUD. Had a terrible experience getting mine but damn if it isn't the best birth control I've ever had.

The words in superscript are words UNSPOKEN. They think they're having the same conversation but not quite. Just a tiny little glimpse into communication styles and why its so important to have clear communication in a relationship.

They reached the island two days later, exactly on schedule. Kid had given everyone paid leave to fuck off, and a skeleton crew to guard the ship; he walked off ship with Rowena as they searched for a proper doctor. As they turned a corner, Rowena gave an excited squeal and walked up to a well. Kid read the sign: it was a wishing well. He pulled two gold coins from his pocket, giving her one. They tossed their coins in.

“What did you wish for?”

“If I tell you it won’t come true,” she giggled.

“Are you embarrassed to share your secret desires with me?” he teased.

Her smile slowly faded, “No it’s not that. My wish is…I just wish I knew who my father is or was.”

Kid put his arm around her and held her. “Didn’t mean to upset you.”

She shook her head, “I’m not upset. Just realized I wished for something totally unattainable. What about you?”

Kissing her cheek, “I wish for good news,” tugging her back on the road by the hand.

It took them some time but they finally found a doctor’s office. They waited in the exam room for the doctor to finish conducting tests on Rowena’s samples. He came in – Rowena’s feet were bouncing anxiously and Kid was gripping his seat so hard he could feel the wood splintering in his hand.

“Well, you’re not pregnant. Have you experienced severe stress or trauma lately? Sometimes that could cause your menstruation cycle to be late, or not at all in some cases. Are you actively trying to conceive? If so, you’ll want to try during your fertile window…”

The doctor’s voice became a buzzing noise to Kid. On the one hand he was overwhelmingly relieved – it’s a terrible time to start having brats; on the other hand, he felt strangely disappointed. The doctor and Rowena talked at length for a while, only coming back to Earth when he felt an elbow in his side.

Looking at Rowena: “how long are we here for? He can schedule me for a procedure.”

“Uhhh what? What’s happening?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m getting birth control implanted in me but he can’t do it until later this week.”

“Leave,” Kid told the doctor, not looking at him. The man stuttered before getting up and closing the door. “What’s going on?”

“A procedure for birth control. I don’t want another scare like this.”

“Is that necessary? That sounds like a lot of extra steps and pain when I can just buy us a shit ton of condoms. I’ll even double wrap! Besides, I already told you I’m on board if you end up pregnant.” Yeah supportive boyfriend guy right here, he had to stop himself from externally grinning.

She looked at him, dumbfounded. “Kid, I’m touched that you would…go to such lengths but yes it’s necessary. We can’t risk it. We have dreams and very challenging times ahead of us. How does a baby fit into that? And if I’m being honest, if I do end up wanting to have a child when I can be assured that our safety was absolute, I would want to be married before I even started trying to conceive,” she twisted her hair nervously, almost whispering the ‘M’ word.

The stars had aligned for him and he knew it was now or never. The Supernova looked her dead in the eyes and shrugged, “Ok is that all? Let’s go get married then.”

“THIS ISN’T A JOKE!!” she glared at him.

“Ro’ I’m being serious,” he cocked an eyebrow at her. He took her hands in his, “Look I didn’t give a shit about dating or relationships before because I’ve never given a flying fuck about anyone for more than five minutes. Then you were quite literally thrown in my direction, into my life. And it’s been…I never knew how much I wanted a connection like what we share. When I think about the adventures that await the crew, I see you right next to me. Baby or no baby, I don’t care. All my glory can be ours if you want it.”

Rowena wanted to cry, she wanted to bury her face into the giant idiot in front of her. She wanted to smack him on the head for saying such sweet things to her. Sweet and wonderful things he’d been saying to her. Feelings never experienced before blossomed inside her. It felt like the peak between feeling longing and of feeling found; a mix of happiness and anxiety. Feeling…scared stiff yet ready for action.

He’d been kind and caring towards her recently, she knew it was partly residual guilt and being horny but there was legitimate intimacy there. Same as before their fight on the island, when everything felt so hopeful and new. Learning about each other and learning from each other – holy shit was Kuma on to something when he sent her to Kid????

“But the Straw Hats…wouldn’t this(marriage) complicate things? I made them promises too. Am I a bad friend for sleeping with the enemy?!”

“If they don’t support your choices(marrying me and joining my crew) are they really that good of friends? Also, don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve not said a word about what I’ve just said.”

“But you don’t…L-Lo…I mean I’ve only been with your crew for four months,” she whispered.

Leaning back in his chair with an amused grin, “do you think I’ve ever let anyone bite me and I don’t do anything about it? Or let them get away with a fraction of the things I let you get away with? I’m not romantic or some bullshit prince character that’s gonna sweep you off your feet. I know what I want and that’s you.” He pulled off one of his golden rings from his hand and placed it in her palm.

“You don’t have to answer right now just think about it.” She nodded, staring at the ring.

“I still want the procedure,” she said.

Kid chuckled, “you can do whatever you want, Rowena. So long as you’re mine, the world is your oyster. I don’t mind waiting a few years before we start our clan anyways.” She eyed him before resting her head against his neck, kissing the bruise she made the other day.

“Careful, I might take you right here and now and make you pregnant anyways.” She slapped his chest softly.

“Are you mine, the way I’m yours? We’re talking about exclusivity here right?” she asked quietly.

“Don’t be stupid, of course,” he said, pointing at the ring he literally just gave her.

She made the appointment for two days from then. They left, his arm around her shoulder and her arm wrapped around his waist, as they walked through the town. Both had matching smiles on their faces; they didn’t notice that the doctor’s office was right across from the bar his crew was at – they all had their faces pressed to the windows watching.

Killer announced, “There goes our future King and Queen of the Pirates!” The men raised their glasses and cheered.

𓏧 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓋒 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏲 𓏧

Rowena spent the next few days searching for books and a crystal ball; she found the orb but she was struggling to track down any books on rune casting. She found a small book that looked interesting – the title read Blood lineage and the Power of Names. She paid for her items and walked towards her appointment, waiting for Kid.

Bored in the lobby, Kid paced around waiting for the procedure to be done. His blood ran cold when he heard Rowena screaming. Bursting through the double doors, he ran looking for her room. He broke through the door, murder in his eyes.

Rowena was laid up on an operating table; the doctor was in between her legs with metal tools, the nurse was screaming at Kid but he didn’t hear it, eyes zeroing in on the blood pooling under his Witch. He made his way to her, clutching her as she wept into his arms.

“It hurts, it hurts so much,” she sobbed. Kid glared at the doctor, demanding an explanation.

“We have to surgically insert it; we warned her she would feel a pinch,” he stammered. “We’re not done yet; you need to hold her down. It must be inserted correctly or she’ll have complications that could kill her.”

“Ro,’ babe look at me, bite down on me as hard as you need until he’s done,” Kid ordered. She whimpered, nodding. “HURRY UP THEN” he roared at the medical team.

They hesitated before they went back to work. Rowena pressed her weeping face into his arm. He gritted his teeth when she began biting, choked sobs coming from her.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor stepped back, hands in the air: “we’re done. You can leave when she’s able to sit up,” they scurried out. The nurse tossed some pamphlets at Kid as she ran. He held Rowena against him while she cried softly. Any time he would try to make moves to leave, she would bend over in pain.

“Fuck it hurts so much,” she sobbed. Kid read through the papers, desperate for any answers. After a procedure of this intensity, the patient may feel mild to severe cramping from the insertion. Limit mobility for a few days for healing. Treatment can include over the counter pain killers, rest, heated water bottles on the abdomen, and time.

“I’m gonna carry you to the ship and then you’ll have to stay in bed for a few days. Do you think you can handle that?”

“I wanna go to your bed,” she sniffled.

“Obviously, dummy.”

“Don’t be mean to me!!” she wailed. Still in her medical gown, Kid took his coat off and covered her body with it, ensuring the material covered her entirely. He gently picked her up. She took sharp breaths, bristling at his touch as he lifted and cradled her against his chest. He stooped to pick up her bag. As he walked out with the Witch in his arms, he threw a bag of gold on the floor.

The walk back to the ship was challenging and long but they made it, and Rowena was carefully deposited into a nest of blankets where she proceeded to curl up in a ball and cry into the pillows. He brought her some pills and a heated water bottle. He laid down with her until she had finally fallen asleep. Exhausted, he soon followed her.

A few hours went by and he was awoken by sharp, persistent knocking. Opening it up, Killer pulled him outside.

“I know she’s had a rough day but something came up and we need you on deck. A marine ship has been sighted.”

Kid’s expression turned dark, “Alright let’s go fuck them up.” He couldn’t wait to take the murderous energy he had for Rowena’s doctor and unleash it on the soldiers.

Later that evening the Victoria Punk was setting sail again, leaving behind a fireball from the remains of a ruined Marine ship. The crew cheered and celebrated their victory that night. Kid stayed with them for a while before he snuck away to his cabin.

He was relieved to see Rowena had slept through the commotion. He stripped his clothes and climbed into bed with her, vowing to punch a hole through the next person that disrupted him. He curled his body around hers and fell into a deep slumber almost immediately.

Rowena’s large, pregnant stomach peeked from her loosely tied robe as she came into the room. Kid’s scarred face broke out in a huge grin, holding his hand out for her. Her hand had a marvelous diamond sitting on her finger; a gold ring sat on a chain in between her swollen breasts, he eyed them hungrily. She snorted and pressed them against his scarred chest and he shuddered. She took his hand to place on her side and Kid gasped as he felt movement inside. He could see tiny bumps pushing against her stomach, the shape of a tiny foot appeared; his fingers traced along it and he felt it give a kick. ‘Ow’ Rowena laughed, wincing. Kid wrapped his arm around her, kissing the small shapes; kissing up her stomach until he reached her lips. ‘I hope it’s easy, we got lucky the first time,’ she smiled at him, closing her robe. He was about to ask what she meant when they heard a young boy’s voice. ‘Ahhh, Luffy is being mean to me again,’ a small boy with black hair cried, running into the room and clutching at her leg. He sported a lump on his head over the only area that was shaved back; the child had a funny updo and… a pink tail?!?! Kid frowned at the child, looking to his wife. ‘When did-’ she put a finger to his lips, smiling at him. ‘I love you Eustass Kid, and I hope you love all our children as fiercely as I do,’ she kissed him. The boy made a face, ‘you guys are gross.’ She picked him up, he tried to fight against her but as soon as she squished him into a hug, the boy melted with a huge smile on his face. She peppered his face with kisses as he giggled happily. She held out her hand and Kid grasped it. Holding the boy with her, she pressed into Kid’s body until they were all squished together. ‘Noooooooooooo’ the boy squirmed but Rowena laughed at him, pressing her face into Kid’s chest. Looking up at him smiling, ‘I’ve never been happier in my life.’ Holding them both with his right arm, Kid lifted his left hand to caress her face but it wasn’t there. Frowning, he looked down to where his arm should have been and it was gone! ‘What the fu-‘  

Kid jerked awake, eyes unfocused in the dark room. He felt Rowena stir beside him, he took measured breaths so as not to wake her. He realized he was spooning her, his right hand on her stomach pressing her body into his, his left hand under his head and with no blood flow tingled and annoyed him.

He calmed himself down letting his eyes adjust to the dark; he looked at his woman, she looked peaceful and not in pain the way she had been earlier and for that he was grateful. He bent his head down and nestled against her neck, breathing in her scent.

He drifted back to sleep in no time at all, quietly murmuring, “I fucking love you, Rowena.”

Read on AO3

[elijah-wilfred-boyle]

Literal Perfection

Chapter 6.

Welcome the chapter 6 the one where Darius and the reader finally do things,

CW: shit gets steamy, but no actual smut happens yet, I'm saving that for later ;)

enjoy this and I'll see you when chapter 7 eventually comes out.

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

Living with the Abominations Covenhead was.... interesting to say the least.

You did your duties all the same, you went to meetings, made up Darius' schedules, booked his appointments, even did the housework, but Darius began to get a little more, affectionate, with you as of lately.

It started off tame enough, pet names instead of your actual name, standing a little closer to you than usual, constant praise and compliments, and then it became lingering touches, late night talks and longing looks.

But today, really set a different tone to what you believed was a strictly professional relationship.

"Here, I've got a gift for you." A lilac box with a deep purple bow was placed in front of you, the covenhead waiting patiently for you to open it, hand behind his back.

"Oh, thank you." You stutter, quickly taking the box and pulling the ribbon off, inside was a beautiful mauve cloak with gold embroidery at the bottom, you were shocked by the extremely generous gift, "I- Headwitch this is beautiful, are you sure you want me to have it?"

"Of course, something told me you'd like it and I guess they were right." He grinned at you before moving around the desk to stand you up, "Come on up you get, you need to try it on!"

You laugh in shock as you're hauled to your feet by Darius and the cloak is tied securely to you, Darius turns you in a circle, "Oh, beautiful, you look stunning darling."

Your faced darkened as you laughed embarrassed, "Darius stop, thank you for the cloak, but only for the cloak, I don't appreciate the compliments you know I don't."

The Headwitch leaned on your desk and sighed, "Oh one day I'll get you to appreciate my compliments, maybe you'll even give me one back?"

"In your dreams." You challenged with a smile.

That night you had been invited to dinner with your brother and his family and while you were sat in the main room with your nieces and nephew, Amity rolled over to you and stared at you.

You glanced down at the witch suspiciously, "What's up Mittens?"

"I heard a bit of gossip recently", she began moving closer to you, "Do you want to hear it?"

You nod, never one to deny gossip.

"Well, the rumours is that you and Headwitch Darius are in a relationship, is it true?"

You blink twice, "Uh, it isn't, where'd you hear that from?"

She shrugged, "just some kids at Hexside, but you and Darius would make a really cute couple, just saying."

You laugh and feel your face get warm, "Really? I don't know, maybe."

It was a nice thought, and something that could happen.

'It could happen', you thought to yourself.

The next day you and Darius were working in silence when you suddenly asked, "Who chose the layout of the Coven House?"

Darius glanced up at you quizzically, "I did, why do you like it?"

You hummed, "Opposite actually, I think its horrendous."

You grin to yourself as you hear him gasp in offense, "Excuse you! This is the most glamorous Coven building, it is filled with the finest-"

You laugh loudly as Darius scowls at you, "its so easy to get you riled up, it's funny." You lean back in your chair and smile at him, "I don't think it's horrendous, the majority of the Coven is beautiful, your office however is a modern catastrophe, nothing here matches with the rest of the Coven's aesthetic."

"Oh and you know so much about interior decorating do you?" Darius stood from his desk moved to yours, leaning on the dark wooden desk, "Then go on my darling, enlighten me."

"I know about interior decorating because that's what I did before I became your assistant, and I don't want you to change anything, your office is so very you, it just sticks out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the place, but I do like some parts of it."

The Covenhead raised an eyebrow in interest, "Oh? And which parts may that be?"

You suddenly felt very brave as you rose from your chair and leaned closer to him, "Well for one, I like you, and that couch."

Darius' eyes widened in shock before a smirk rested on his face, "Oh, do you now? Well, I can think of a few things we could do on the couch, if you'd like?"

You didn't say anything, just pulled him closer and pressed your lips to his, he immediately kissed back, groaning into your mouth, his hands resting on your waist.

You pulled back slightly and whispered a quiet "couch" before you lifted up and placed onto the plush seating, Darius pressing kisses onto your face and neck the entire time.

You made quick work of your buttoned shirt, practically ripping the fabric off of you and throwing it down, and Darius dove down to kiss and lick at the now exposed skin, you were becoming a moaning mess beneath him as he trailed lower and lower to the edge of your trousers, when suddenly the door to his office swung open.

"Holy Titan!", Hunter had walked in.

"Oh sweet Titan!" You yelled and wrapped your arms around yourself.

Darius had quickly summoned a wall of abomination matter and slammed the door shut, "Hunter! Get out!"

The two sat in silence for a moment before Darius rubbed a hand down his face, "Fuck, well, I guess were done that for the moment, now I've got to deal with my son."

He stood up and handed you your shirt, with you put on just as fast as you took it off, "lets try not to get interrupted next time, yeah?" You couldn't tell if you were joking or not, but the smile Darius gave you all but confirmed that your little couch session was far from over.

You watched him walk out of the office and look down at Hunter before he shut the door and you were left alone.

"Fuck", you whispered, "I'm in love with him."

[loressa]

Burgertime

----

Salt, fat, sizzle, sear - the components are basic and mandatory. The burger is the star and never let anyone tell you otherwise...even if that someone is a stupid bullshit Goodwill microwave because *someone* (Brenda in HR) is too fucking cheapass to upgrade.

I dont have time for this - Timmons needs a submit by noon for a merge by five because Perkins is absolutely horrible at his job - but fuck Perkins. I want a burger, specifically MY deliciously seared burger from last night, so it's time to settle in and wait. Triple beep on that idiot machine (fuck you, Brenda) and the microwave power's at 50% for that slow, deep reheat.

Some TV while we wait - Pedro seems to be really doing it dirty to Janessa Maria. Would NOT be surprised if he ends up stabbed with all those side chicas he's had going for weeks.

Annoyingly, the lunchroom TV cuts from daytime telenovelas to grainy cellphone zooms of movie monsters spilling out of weird machines. I check on my burger - ten minutes left and still rotating nicely, despite all expectations - and then focus back on the news again.

Invasion. Aliens. Doom. This channel sucks. Flip through a few, but it's all the same broadcast - burger doing great - and that's when I realized what's happening.

This bullshit castoff Oliver of a microwave is all please-maam-may-I-have-moreing my burger into a dry, shitty crumble. Fuck you, Brenda. Power down even lower, might help, has to help. I still hate Brenda.

Back to ten minutes and what is this bullshit on the TV. Timmons' task floats into my head and I kick myself - I didn't drop those completed components into code review. By the time I get back from that, we're at eight minutes, the burger is lightly sizzling and I've realized the entire office is empty.

Fucking corporate yoga. I can even hear them upstairs - graceful, my ass, they sound like elephants tap dancing. Seven minutes to heaven, though, so who gives a shit. I think I'll add some BBQ sauce, just to be heathenous.

I hear a crash from the area near Perkins' desk, but who cares. The guy is a mess. Six minutes. Looking juicy. Another crash. Did they have a lunch out? Perkins *likes* to drink, why do you think he's useless after lunchtime?

Flip channels for a bit, but it's all the same stupid YouTube alien movie promo crap - five minutes, die in a fire, Brenda - so I browse Reddit looking at food pics. Another crash and now it's starting to seem a bit weird. I glance at the microwave, mouth almost aching - four minutes - and sigh. Gotta help Perkins.

Aaaand, nope, that's an alien. That's totally, completely, absolutely, how the fuck is that an alien. He's... she's? It's tall, scaly, oozy, slimy, totally not human, pure nightmare factory, and appears to be baffled by a stapler. Why does Perkins even have a stapler?

You how know under pressure our brains turn into trapped rats trying to find the easiest way out and we think and do amazing shit? So yeah, three minutes left and burger is looking good.

I thank my Brenda-esque brain for absolutely nothing and dart back into the lunchroom, which has apparently become my safe house against an alien invasion. Yay, I always wanted to fight for my life surrounded by old egg salad and leftover pasta.

Right about now is when I realize my problem. See, the microwave has been going with an ambient hum since Sumeria was the shit, so any changes are going to be instantly noticed...and we're at two minutes left. Also the burger is looking amazi-

Right, yeah, pull it together girl. Fuck you, Brenda. With a REAL microwave, I would have been out of here alr-

Well, hold on now. I creep back to the door. The alien's apparently given up on staplers and is kinda scanning the room. Like, literally, scanning. There's old 90s style movie graphics sprouting out of his/her/its eyes.

One minute left - hi burger, you're beautiful - and I'm fumbling with my phone. This whole situation is stupid enough, might as well try....

And there we are. WiFi scanner is picking up something absolutely weird and confusing, clearly some sort of network we can't identify. The alien's got some tech - or biology? - emitting a signal.

I groan. I know the answer. I hate the answer. I sigh. I curse fucking Brenda. 10 seconds left. I back away and close my eyes. Everyone sacrifices in trying times.

3, 2, 1 - the rotation stops and the stupid little defunct microwave gives a happy chirp of a ding. Done! Aren't you proud of me? Never, Brenda-spawn.

A claw appears around the door. Oh fuuuuck, yep, this is happening. I duck down behind a table and reach up to fumble at the microwave door. Hopefully aliens aren't vegan. I manage to jab it open and suddenly the delicious, intoxicating smell of the perfect burger floods the lunchroom, rich and redolent.

Apparently demons like burgers, but I was counting on this. Everyone likes burgers unless they are useless bitches named Brenda. S/he/it leaps for the microwave and I slide sideways - this is a horrible idea - putting myself closer to her as my arms fumble at the countertop. Oh, god, it stinks like childhood trauma and ozone. Too late now and here we go - the creature realizes I'm here far too late, flailing and turning with way too many arms writhing about. His head is at the same level of the counter top, body coiled to strike.

My lunging fall nearly fails, apparently my aim is terrible, but I trip on a chair and surge upwards again, hands finally wrapping around the microwave.

"You like to transmit shit about Earth?????!" I want to scream but instead I just kinda squeak as I grab the horrible microwave with its beautiful payload and slide the entire thing over the creature's head.

"Farrady cage?" I whisper hopefully, quickly backing away, because that - and my burger - was really all I had. For a second, the alien is still, simply standing there with his/her/its head crammed in a microwave, before its head gives a sudden, anticlimactic plop and sinks to the ground, ooze puddling out on his/her/its shoulders.

As the creature falls, his/her/it's body gives a shake, some final death throe, and, with a rattle, a little brown disc comes soaring out of the microwave. It's a beautiful, heartwarming moment. The alien's dead, Berlin is playing take my breath away and I've been reunited with my hamburger.

The rest of earth can wait a few more minutes for me to save it. This shit is finally hot and ready and it's lunchtime for momma.

[sunnyskies281]

So about that cult I was in, part 2

in Rainbow, there were a lot of rules. Square your corners when you walk. Sit still. No bouncing when you walk. Sit up straight. Stop moving. Stop it. Just sit still! Memorize all your lines, despite you literally having the book with all your lines in it. No crossing your legs when you sit. Are you a grand officer? You better start wearing a hoop dress. Don’t like dresses? Too bad! You’re a rainbow girl! No talking about your boyfriend at meetings. Not even the casual ones. Bringing your partner to events? You can’t call them your partner. Trans? Well I hope you’re planning on medically transitioning, because otherwise you can’t join! Also you have to use the men’s restroom! Trans the other way? You’re still a girl! Stay with us, we’ll give you scholarships! Yeah they’re only like 200$ but hey it’s better than nothing! Over 18? You’re still a girl! No swearing, no going on your phone, sit still, you can’t dye your hair if you’re a grand officer because you need to wear a wiglet. Tattoos? Cover em up! Wanna be the Grand worthy advisor? Don’t go to college in the spring, you’ll be too busy with RAINBOW for school! Are you married? Well sorry but “wife” is a different step of womanhood than “girl” so sorry you’re kicked out. Oh did you get pregnant, by whatever means it happened, and you want your rainbow family to help you? Sorry, “mother” is a different step of womanhood than “girl”. Don’t come in next meeting. Are you 12 years old and can’t sit still for 8 hours straight for grand assembly every year? Well suck it up! Sit still! Volunteer at all these events so you can afford attending MANDATORY GRAND ASSEMBLY.

God this cult was not surprisingly pretty fuckin expensive. Since you HAD to wear a fancy dress to the formal meetings, if you didn’t have an assembly kind enough to have its own dress closet where you could take old donated dresses you’d have to buy your own fancy dress. If you were a grand officer (which is a member at the state level, think like a board of governors except instead of making laws that make the world a better place or worse idk you have a bunch of 14-20 year olds in a room in Pendleton in hoop skirts and wiglets reading from an outdated book) you’d have to pay for dress materials because every grand officer has to wear the same kinda dress. You can’t buy a dress and modify it, oh no. You have to buy SPECIFIC KINDS OF FABRIC and someone will MAKE THE DRESS FOR YOU. You don’t have to pay for the labor since the old woman does this as volunteer work, but goddamn I wish she got paid for making 20+ dresses EVERY YEAR because EACH YEAR YOU NEED A NEW DRESS. So that’s like several hundred dollars. Not to mention the fact that you also need ANOTHER DRESS CUSTOM MADE, a TRAVEL DRESS THAT YOU WEAR WHEN GOING TO OTHER ASSEMBLIES IN DIFFERENT STATES. AND THATS JUST THE DRESSES.

You also need to pay for transportation to and from grand assembly. In Oregon, grand Assembly is in Pendleton, aka “the middle of bumfuck nowhere”. These girls had to sit in cars for hours going to an assembly which would just be like 12 hours more of just sitting down waiting for their turn to stand up and talk for 30 seconds and sit down again. And transportation gets expensive. I knew a girl who had to leave the order because she couldn’t afford the gas for her car to just drive to her LOCAL ASSEMBLY, much less GRAND ASSEMBLY. Not to mention the expenses that is the hotel we stay at for the few days of the assembly. It’s expensive! And if you’re young, your parents have to be there with you and their stay is not covered by the assembly! This shit is so expensive!

And this next bit is less important than the other things, but I think it bears sharing anyway: I was required to get a facebook account to participate in one of the events. Like it’s not the worst, but like I specifically told them I did not want to make a facebook account but I had to.

[goat-yells-at-everything]

Fucking HATE my doctors office anymore.

Appointment scheduled for 9:20 for about a week. I'm LITERALLY walking out the door and they call to say they have to reschedule. Considering all this shit thats been happening, I really DO need to see a doc, not just prompt care again.

"well, I might be able to fit you in at 11:20. let me go see if that'll be ok"

Ten minutes of hold music where I've already resigned to send an updated time off request to work when she comes back and says, "ok. she'll see you at 9:20." WHO is seeing me at 9:20? I thought you said my doc had to leave abruptly????

So I get there. I check in. I sit and wait. 15 minutes, almost 10 minutes after my scheduled time, and this lady (90% sure the one from the call) and a random guy come out. "well, your doctor had to leave. you're just here for diabetic counseling so-"

And of course I start sobbing because fuck me thats why.

The guy gets flustered and asks whats wrong and, thankfully, I'd written out what I'd wanted to say to my doc since talking is not an option today. So I handed him my notebook and my statement is the entire page and he goes "uh.. how bout you come with me" and he takes me back to an overflow room (basically storage but IF they need it as an exam room its got stuff). So hes reading my notes and asking some questions that I try to answer and he pulls up my records from prompt care for the last month (oh... what was that about the prompt care and regular office systems not being connected???? thats what they always say at prompt care).

ANYWAY. Hes going over all the notes and shit and finally says "well, we'll have to hold of on the diabetic counseling, theres a lot to that and we cant cover it all in the time we have today" I wanted to scream I dont fucking NEED that because I've already changed my lifestyle and diet as best I can and its not fucking working because, maybe JUST FUCKING MAYBE, there is another underlying issue????

ANYWAY.

So he goes "but we'll see about addressing the throat and wrist thing-" (cus ya, my wrist is fucked up now too and i'll likely need the same surgery for it that I had on my thumb) "-and we'll try to treat the acute symptoms right now and get you a note for work-" I cut him off best I could and said the individual incidents dont need excused. I need to know why the fuck I'm getting SO FUCKING SICK every couple of months. This is chronic. This NEEDS to be addressed. I'm going to loose my fucking job if this keeps up!

So they "managed to fit me in" at 11:20 to address the "acute symptoms" and whatever.

I need to find a new fucking doctor but I'm afraid I'll have to start all over from the begging with everything thats fucking wrong with me and then turn around and do it all over again in a couple years when I move.