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#looks really cool can't wait to watch it
applecookie08 · 2 years
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starscreamingg · 2 years
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Currently being very normal about having tickets for avatar 2 this weekend
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sirfrogsworth · 2 months
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How do you take a photo of time?
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I've been watching the track events at the Olympics since I was a wee lad. It was a tradition in our family. We'd gather around our ancient low-definition 19 inch CRT television and watch tiny blobs compete against other tiny blobs and root for our country.
It was a bit like watching YouTube on your phone in 144p.
Several heroes emerged.
Jackie Joyner-Kersee was amazing.
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You can't forget about Flo-Jo.
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And then the Olympics decided NBA players were allowed in the competition.
Which formed... The Dream Team.
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Was this fair?
Well... they won each game by an average of 44 points.
So... no. It was not fair.
Though it became more fair as time went on.
But, umm... yeah. The other teams looked like the Washington Generals and the US looked like the Harlem Globetrotters if they stopped screwing around half of the game.
But my absolute favorite Olympian was a runner named Michael Johnson.
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He was cool as heck.
For one thing... gold shoes.
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But he also had this crazy, upright, Tom Cruise-ish sprinting style that just made him look like a running robot on the track.
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And in the 1996 Atlanta games he just trounced EVERYONE. I mean, it wasn't even close.
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Yikes. Those losing blobs are probably really embarrassed.
Last night I decided to invigorate my nostalgia and watch the track events again. And I got to see one of the wildest races in history.
It didn't even last 10 seconds but it was one of the most exciting sporting events I've ever witnessed. Almost every runner won the race.
After I saw that initially, I was like... who the heck won???
Even in slow motion I wasn't sure.
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This was one of the closest finishes in history. There has never been a race where all 8 runners were within this margin.
The arena was silent as the winner was being confirmed. The runners just kind of paced around waiting for official word. My best guess was the Jamaican runner, Kishane Thompson. But then the loudspeaker announced Noah Lyles.
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The last tiny morsel of American pride burst out of me with a big "Wooooo!"
I forgot what it was like to be proud of my country. I wish it happened more often. But this young man, despite being last place in the first 3rd of the race, turned on the afterburners and won in a photo finish.
And that's when my inner nerd took over.
Because when they showed the photo finish image, it looked super weird.
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Why is the track white?
Why do all of the runners look all warpy like that QWOP game?
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So I went down a research rabbit hole to figure this out.
Photo finishes are actually fascinating. The first photo finish captured the end of a horse race in 1890. But that was mostly luck and timing. The actual photo finish mechanisms weren't used until 1937.
Originally they would film the finish line through a physical slit.
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And the first horsie head that appeared in that slit would be the winner. This technology ended a huge aspect of corruption in horse race fixing almost overnight.
But we have come a long way since then. And I'd like to introduce you to the Omega Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate.
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This slow motion camera sits fixed on the finish line of every race. The concept of the photo finish has remained remarkably similar to the 1930s approach. The camera sensor is specially designed to only record a vertical slit.
Only the finish line itself is actually captured.
And because it limits what it records to only that slit, it can capture 40,000 frames per second to get amazing temporal resolution.
So why don't the photo finishes just look like, well... this?
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That is because the camera takes a picture of time more-so than dimensional space. I guess it would be more accurate to say it *assembles* a picture of time.
As the runners cross the finish line, the camera combines all of the little strips of pictures into a single image.
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It's almost like if you tried to reassemble a piece of paper after it had been shredded.
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Imagine each strip of paper is a picture of ONLY the finish line, just at a slightly different point in time.
What if someone stopped on the finish line and didn't move... what would that look like?
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Once they got there, the same part of their body would just be repeated.
So the right side of the photo finish picture represents earlier in time and it just assembles the image strip by strip as time passes and you literally get a picture of time itself.
NEAT!
Okay, but how do they determine the winner from the photo finish?
I mean, that shoe looks like it is ahead of Noah Lyles!
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Clavicles!
The IAFF rules state the foremost part of the torso must cross the finish line first. And the endpoint of the torso is the outer end of the clavicle.
So if you get this bone across the finish line first, you win the race.
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Two more fun facts!
The start of the race is actually just as carefully timed as the end of the race. There are sensors in the starting blocks of each runner.
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The starting gun also has an electronic sensor.
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They have determined the fastest a human can react to the sound of a gun is roughly 100 milliseconds. So if you start running before 100 milliseconds they know you didn't actually hear the gun, you just got antsy and started running too early.
And the final fun fact...
Did you notice the Omega logo at the top of the photo finish?
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That isn't superimposed or added after the fact. That is captured by the camera.
But if this image is composed only of tiny little slivers, how did they get the Omega logo to show up?
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That is a little display. And it is synchronized with the Scan 'O' Vision Ultimate to show a little sliver of the Omega logo for each frame captured.
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So when the final image is stitched together, it looks like a cohesive logo at the top of the photo.
Pretty clever, Omega!
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corkinavoid · 28 days
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DPxDC "Pick Me Up"
The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.
Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.
Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.
That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:
"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."
Joker sputters.
"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"
The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.
"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."
Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.
"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.
"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."
"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.
But none of them get to finish.
"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.
The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.
And that's not a guy.
The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.
Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.
Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, and?"
"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.
"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.
"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:
"I remember!"
Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"
The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."
Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.
"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.
"I hate you."
"Thanks," Danny grins.
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ode2rin · 5 months
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new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)
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You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 
And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.
Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.
Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.
Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 
He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.
The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 
There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.
“Are we… alright?” he drawled.
What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 
He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.
Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”
“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.
“Okay, Rin.”
That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.
“Are you mad at me?” 
“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?
“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.
You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)
“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”
“You so are!” 
“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”
There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.
“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”
“Not to you, it’s not!”
A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 
Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”
“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.
With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 
“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.
“I’m not childish.”
“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”
Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.
“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.
“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 
“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.
The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 
They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.
He was now something more, something special.
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.
It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 
Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 
It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 
You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.
Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”
“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.
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note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.
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zillychu · 3 months
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designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):
newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!
except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well… 
oops. they summoned a demon.
which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.
but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.
okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?
weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”
Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?
Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.
it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.
Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?
“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor. 
“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”
Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.
it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident. 
But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.
the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??
they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.
Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.
but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.
they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm. 
when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands. 
Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.
magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.
they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.
“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.
Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”
abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.
Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him. 
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once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS
(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)
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they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:
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Oviposition with alien bf??? What would the process be like? And what does it feel like for both you and him?
His cock is a good size... almost human-like, save for the blue color and the pointed tip. There is a slit in the head of his dick wide enough for you to push two fingers inside of him if you had the impulse to do so. Wide enough for his eggs to push through into you.
People from his world don't really have recreational sex. They breed. he's enamored by the human Idea of fucking. He watches, enraptured as you moan and squirm in pleasure as he toys with your cunt. Human genitalia is fascinating, soft, and warm whereas his skin is slick and cool to the touch. He can't help but think that your human cunt- temperate and inviting would be the perfect place to lay his clutch.
He pushes into you in one fluid motion- his cock firm but still malleable, filling you like water. Your back is to his chest, one leg over his hips. Once the tip of his cock is pressed against your cervix he doesn't really thrust into you, but he'll stroke your clit lovingly since it's something you need for your human sex rituals.
"ready?" he asks, waiting for your consent. you nod. You feel thin tentacles press against your cervix, pulling you open. it's an odd feeling- painful but in the best way possible. His tentacles fuck you open until the tip of his cock can fit into you, fucking your womb directly.
You gasp and squirm but his arms are wrapped around you like a vice. keeping you locked on his cock. He whispers soothingly as he toys with your clit.
you can feel the base of his cock thicken as the first egg moves into you. He makes you cum at least three times as he fucks his clutch of eggs into you, once all of the eggs are pact into you he floods your womb with his cum, fertilizing them, and leaving you looking six months pregnant.
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evilminji · 8 months
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"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy
He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.
Paulie's parents were PISSED.
Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.
And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.
So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.
But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?
Entranced.
In AWE.
Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.
But still, he's about to say "no", when?
Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.
SOLD!
It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?
Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?
Not even as Ghosts, man.
They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.
Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!
So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!
The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!
What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?
Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!
DO BETTER!
And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.
And it's one hell of Fake Hero!
A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!
Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...
The Town website?
Weirdly? Sanitized.
Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....
Wait...
Hey, guuuuys?
Are you finding ANYTHING?
And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.
All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.
But how about thousands?
Hundreds of thousands?
From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.
Not a meme.
Very real.
Not a joke.
The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!
Phantom is REAL!
And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.
Here to help.
A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.
A... a once living star.
And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.
And now? The weather!
@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation
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pseudowho · 2 months
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"Itadori-kun. Good. You're on time."
Kento checked his watch, clearly distracted, as Yuuji approached with pocketed hands. The shopping centre was bustling, a hive of activity around them. Yuuji ruffled his own hair, unsure.
"Yeah, I just...wasn't sure why we're meeting here, is all."
Still distracted, Kento tapped off a message, before slipping his phone back into his inner pocket. He rarely offered smiles when there was business yet to be done, and today was no different.
"I was hoping for your assistance with a few errands before your school term ends. I'm sure you'll be busy with your friends after then, and I shouldn't like to take your vacation time. I'm sure you're looking forward to the break."
In truth, Yuuji deflated just at the thought of it; though he was an orphan amongst orphans, he didn't favour empty time in the way he used to, with memory and the devil as his constant companions. Still he smiled.
"Yeah! Can't wait. Got...got loads planned."
Kento read Yuuji, shrewd for a moment, before hyper-focusing on the task at hand.
"Quite. Come along, Yuuji."
Yuuji grew more and more flummoxed as Kento's list of errands tickered out before them. Too polite to question why, and with absolute faith that Kento had good reason to drag him along for the ride, Yuuji stomached it all with confused good grace.
Yuuji blinked, momentarily blinded by the flash of light in the photo booth. He grinned for the next photo, and Kento's cool deep voice rumbled past the curtain.
"No smiling, Yuuji."
"H-huh? How did you know?"
"Was I wrong?"
"Uh...sorry, Nanamin."
As a strip of tiny poe-faced photos clicked into the dispenser, Yuuji couldn't understand why Nanamin was so satisfied by such bland pictures. Yuuji was, however, touched; clearly Nanamin liked wallet photos as he liked his suits-- beige. Kento clipped across Yuuji's thoughts.
"Do you like the beach, Yuuji?"
Yuuji blinked. "The beach...?"
"Yes. The beach. Do you like it?"
"Uh...I guess. Why?"
Kento hummed, satisfied, not answering Yuuji's question. Instead, as he passed Yuuji his coffee, he stood and leaned around Yuuji, gently pulling at the back of Yuuji's collar. Yuuji twisted to look, baffled now, and Kento released him, sitting with another satisfied hum. He tapped on his phone again.
"Your identification documents are in your room at Jujutsu High?"
"Nanamin...what's this about?"
"It's important to take care of your documents, Yuuji."
"...so you're just...checking up on me?"
Kento smiled, polite. "Of course." A pause. "I assume you'd like to come back to ours for dinner?"
Yuuji brimmed with unasked questions. "I don't need to-- I'm not really that hungry-- honestly a coffee is great--"
"Mrs.Nanami has cooked extra."
"God, yes, please, I'm starving."
+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+
The summer vacation approached Yuuji like a black cloud. He could not bring himself to be excited for enforced inactivity; his casual offers to assist staff on missions fell on deaf ears. Gojo laughed Yuuji off with a clap on the shoulder. Yuuji smiled away the gentle rejection; he did not have the stomach to beg to work.
Instead, Yuuji stewed, leaning on his rainy windowsill until cicada buzz replaced the pitter-patter of water on earth. Late July arrived, unwelcome, and Yuuji steeped in a pit of dread.
At 2am, on the first day of summer vacation, Yuuji's phone rang. Bleary-eyed, and flat, he looked away from his computer screen and lowered his headset. He looked at his screen with a lurching gut; he answered the phone.
"Nanamin?"
A voice, rusty with sleeplessness. "Ah, Yuuji. I apologise for waking you at this hour. I need help with a mission. Are you available?"
Yuuji perked up immediately, tail wagging. "Y-yeah! Yeah, totally! I can be ready...er...in ten? Yeah?"
Kento's voice smiled. "Good. I'll pick you up."
Yuuji danced from his desk chair, shaking off his joggers and wriggling into his uniform with a grin, ruffling his hair before the mirror. In barely two minutes, he was ready, a spring in his step as he headed to wait outside. He felt so light, so relieved, and he grabbed his keys, opening his door to--
"Oh, shi--...Nanamin?"
Kento stood at the door, comfortable in loose clothes, and...sandals? It was an odd contrast to the backdrop of night, and Kento's usual attire. Kento smiled again, polite.
"Yes. Are you ready?"
"Y-yeah, I'm...how did you get here so fast?"
"The roads are quiet at this time of night, Yuuji."
A pause. "...Nanamin."
"Yuuji."
"Are you fucking with me?"
"Language."
When Yuuji opened his mouth to argue back, his jaw dropped, as you bustled up the corridor behind Kento with a sleepy grin on your face. You slapped Kento's elbow, shooting him a chastising look.
"Morning, Yuuji! Excited?" You pressed a kiss to his cheek, whirling past to invade his bedroom. Yuuji was speechless, horribly confused.
Kento checked his watch as you bustled around. Tapped his foot as you bustled around. Tutted, and leaned pointedly round the corner to stare at you as you bustled around.
"Darling, we're going to be la--"
"--don't give me attitude, Kento, we are about 6 hours early, and you know it--"
"--it pays off to check-in ahead of schedule--"
"--hush. I'll have words with you later."
Kento bristled, pugnacious. You walked out of Yuuji's room with his rucksack in hand. You pinched his chin, gesturing him along with your hand.
"Come on, Yuuji. Before Mr.Organised has conniptions."
Yuuji felt himself swept along by Kento, who still scoffed, mulish. The night air smelled sweet, and Yuuji found himself gently bodied into the back seat of Kento's car.
"--Nanamin-- I don't understand--"
You shot Kento a pointed look from the passenger seat. At first frowning, then with dawning realisation, you scolded Kento in disbelief.
"...you haven't told him."
Kento almost smirked as he rolled the car away over gravel. "I don't know what you mean."
You looked from Kento, to Yuuji, and back again. You reached slowly into Kento's bag, rummaging. Yuuji felt a glossy little book pressed into his hands.
"...a...passport?"
"...Kento didn't tell you."
Never one for expecting a gift, Yuuji couldn't see one when placed before his eyes. "Tell me what? Nanamin?"
Kento chuckled to himself, his eyes glimmering at Yuuji in the rearview mirror.
"Our flight is at 10:30, Yuuji."
Yuuji peered into the seat beside him; a new suitcase, neatly labelled with a luggage tag in his name. He yanked it to the seat beside him, unzipping it, and finding it full of new swimsuits, t-shirts, shorts, sandals, everything he could possibly need. He opened the glossy new passport in his hands, and hiccupped, his breath catching in his chest.
Yuuji rammed into realisation with prickling eyes, and a quiet sniffle, his eyes hidden in the dark. His reply was thick, stilted.
"Our flight...to where?"
"Malaysia. Now give me back that passport. You'll only lose it."
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seat-safety-switch · 4 months
Text
My neighbour had had one of those roll-away dumpsters on his lawn for awhile. In case you're unfamiliar, people often have a lot of trash generated from home renovation projects. They do not want to drive to the dump constantly to throw this stuff out. Instead, you can call someone who comes and drops a dumpster on your driveway, and then when it's full, you can call them again to get it picked up and taken to the dump. The very icon itself of suburban make-it-someone-else's-problemism.
People get really mad when you throw garbage into a dumpster that you didn't pay for. For instance, the local Tim Hortons has put up threatening signs falsely claiming that they have security cameras pointing at the bins at all times. This might be because I once disposed of an entire Subaru EJ25 engine and slightly dented 4-speed automatic transmission, along with most of its fluid, into their dumpster. If you ask me, this is just whining, because that stuff was all made out of aluminum and shouldn't have counted too far on their weight limit anyway.
And yet, I don't want to drive to the dump. Partially, this is because of the exorbitant dump fees: in an attempt at "greening," or more likely to not have so many dumbasses coming to throw out a single tire, they charge a minimum of thirty bucks to throw out anything under a hundred kilos of crap.
Thirty bucks! I can buy a lot of cool junk for that. And they don't even let you take old bicycles out of the garbage pile for that money to try and recoup your cost. Once, I saw a dirt bike, and they wouldn't let me take it. It became a whole thing, which is the main reason I can't go to the dump anymore: they have my picture posted everywhere. So borrowing my neighbour's dumpster is the next best thing.
Here's the tactic you want to use: watch the bin for a few weeks. Check what days there's a lot of stuff being thrown out. These things naturally ebb and flow. There will be an initial burst of enthusiasm as they rip their kitchen to bits, being replaced with a crushing realization that they have ripped their kitchen to bits. It's during that lull that you throw your shit into the dumpster, and cover it up with construction debris from the previous effort. Demoralized, the homeowner won't look in their bin for at least another week, until they are forced to finish the job or hire someone competent to do so, who will start refilling the bin again.
Or, you can do what I did, which is wait for the truck that picks up the dumpster to show up. While the operator is busy loading it up, you throw your stuff into the bin and drive away as fast as you can. The neighbour can't get mad, because the pickup's already been paid for: you're just extracting some extra value from it. The driver can't chase you, because he has a dumpster full of your old shocks and axles halfway loaded onto his truck. And the cops can't get you for illegal dumping, because it sounds like a whole bunch of paperwork and to be honest they're probably too busy arresting folks who start a fistfight at the dump over a pretty sweet dirt bike.
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number1mingyustan · 1 month
Text
Still Yours
Tumblr media
idol!mingyu x fem!reader
Warnings: kissing, cursing, grinding, lots of sexual tension, explicit smut, protected sex (missionary), fingering (f.), low-key rough sex, scratching, teasing, they're so cute and domestic ugh, teensy bit (a lot) of angst cuz i can't live without it, if you realllyy read into it it’s a lil toxic but they’re so cute 😪
Summary: When you’re with him, the time around you ceases to exist. You’ve got your own little bubble that’s immune to reality where he’s just yours.
Word Count: 5.1k
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(a/n: i usually don't read/write content where they idols because I'm simply not a fan. but i read a jk fic like this recently and it was a masterpiece. to say the least i was inspired so shout out to that author and i hope you enjoy)
The cool outside air fills your lungs as you step onto the sidewalk. It’s not cold, just fresh and cool enough to rejuvenate you from the hot sweaty air from inside of the club.
It’s a lot emptier out here, it helps to clear your mind. There’s only two or three other people out here, having a smoke in silence or waiting impatiently for an uber.
Your mind is still just a little bit muggy from the alcohol coursing through your veins, but being outside has instantly given you clarity.
You just couldn’t be in there any longer. The guy at the bar just could not take a hint. He was cute too, the type of guy you would typically be interested in. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him at first.
But then halfway through your conversation and his hand touched your lower back, the guilt settled in. It suddenly felt so wrong. The guy in the club’s hand didn’t feel the same as when he does it.
Almost instantly, it registered in your mind. This stranger didn't compare. He had nothing on the guy who really has your heart.
The famous idol who doesn't hesitate to answer your phone calls or cook for you when you're hungry.
This guy was a nobody.
One phone call and you’d have so much better.
The stranger clearly didn’t pick up on your shift in energy, probably too drunk to notice how you started to pull away. You were suddenly uninterested in anything he had to say and it was exhausting to have to fake laugh and smile as you tried to make excuses as to why you weren’t going home with him tonight.
But he was persistent and suddenly felt too touchy. He probably wasn't touching you as much as you thought, but you were suddenly so aware of him that it felt wrong with him being so close. His very presence alone was irritating. You finally caught the attention of one of your friends and gave her the ‘SOS’ look. She drunkenly stumbled over to you and pulled away from the conversation somewhat smoothly.
You thanked her before letting her know you were stepping out to get some fresh air.
But now it's a little after one in the morning and your thoughts are clouded with him. Your mind begins to wander to the moments you've shared over the past few years. The pet names, the sleepovers with homemade face masks, the phone calls from his hotel rooms.
Now you're texting him.
You: you awake?
________
Mingyu sits at home on the couch, beer in hand as the TV flashes in front of him. He's watching a movie he's got no real interest in, but he can't sleep. He's been home for a little more than a day and he's still got major jetlag ruining his sleep schedule.
No matter how hectic his life has been, he always dreads the jetlag.
The buzz of his phone captures his attention and he can't avoid the smile that pulls on his lips when he sees your name flash on the screen.
Mingyu: nah, sleeping
You giggle at your phone, smiling at the device just as he is. Your hands move a little slower to text back as the cool air outside changes your body temperature. You shiver, blowing on your hands as they grow cold.
You: call me
The message flashes delivered briefly before your screen changes entirely. You're surprised to see an incoming FaceTime and not a regular call.
You hold the phone up to your face, fixing your hair before you hit answer.
He lays on the couch in the living room, the darkness surrounding him heavily contrasts the colorful beams of light that flash behind you. The loud music thumps in the background.
"Hi." He smiles.
"Hi," You grin.
You feel giddy inside. Partially because you were drinking a bit and mostly because you're talking to him again. It's been quite some time since you've seen each other.
"Where are you?" He asks first.
You take a moment to respond as you walk toward the curb. You fix your dress and sit on the curb of the sidewalk, holding the phone up to your face.
"At the club," You reply.
"Ah, fun night I presume?" He asks.
You shake your head. "Not really."
"Sorry to hear that Shorty," He says.
Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. Your heart always leaps when he calls you that.
"Yeah, not really my thing anyway," You frown.
"I remember, surprised you're even there this late," He comments.
You smile. He remembers.
"Took some convincing from my friends. It wasn't so bad when we were drinking earlier, but then it started to hit and I wasn't feeling it anymore," You say, chipping away at the white nail polish on your fingers.
"They didn't abandon you, did they?" He asks, voice laced with concern.
"Who? My friends? No, they were looking out for me but I just wasn't feeling it anymore so I told them I was stepping outside for a minute," You continue to chip away at the polish mindlessly.
"I don't like you being alone like that, especially if you've been drinking," He frowns.
"I'm okay, I promise..." You assure him. "I wanna see you though."
A boyish smile forms on his face. "Yeah?"
You nod. "You home?"
"Yeah, come over," He offers. "I'll get you something to eat and you can spend the night."
Your ears perk up from his words. Your heart jumps out of your chest in anticipation.
"Okay, I'll order a–"
"–Text me what club you're at," he interrupts. "I'll get you an Uber here."
______
You call another one of your friends while you wait. You’re surprised she picks up on the second ring. “HELLO?” she shouts into the phone.
“Hey love,” You say.
“Y/N WHERE DID YOU GO?? The hot guy you were talking to is still here, I thought you went home with him.”
The loud music thumps in the background, but you can surprisingly hear her clearly.
You shake your head. “I’m heading home, I’ll see you guys later.”
Of course, the terms of your NDA don’t allow you to tell them where you’re really going. You make up an excuse about not feeling well and she pouts.
“Aw but we were– Hana NO!” She interrupts herself and the line goes silent for a few moments.
You hear shifting and wait to hear her voice again.
“Sorry, we’re in the bathroom and Hana started throwing up. She’s fine now. You feel better though, and text one of us when you get home. Stay safe babes.”
“Okay, I will.”
Before you can hang up, she’s calling out to the other girls. “GUYS, Y/N IS GOING HOME.”
More shuffling suddenly fills your ears and female voice.
“Nooooo, don’t leave,” Hana drunkenly slurs.
You laugh. “I’ll go out with you guys again next weekend.”
After a little bit more drunken banter, you finally hang up and wait on the curb until your ride gets here.
____
Considering he's the one who ordered the Uber, you know he'll know exactly when you get there. So, you spend the entirety of the ride in the backseat fixing up your appearance.
You play with your hair, refresh your lip gloss, and adjust your appearance for the better.
When you arrive at the familiar home, your heart rate picks up and you open the door with shaky hands. You stand outside the car, purse in hand as you shut the door.
Just as you close the car door, his front door opens almost on cue. His full stature comes to your sight and your excitement bubbles over.
He leans against the door frame, grinning at you. He looks cozy, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, a white wifebeater, and his glasses. Your knees nearly give out at the sight of him in his glasses. He looks so good. His muscular body is visible in the tee and you have to stop yourself from pouncing him.
His hair is definitely shorter than the last time you saw him. And it's been well, months since you've seen him. Two? Maybe even three? But that doesn't matter, what matters is that you're here with him now.
You try not to express how excited you are, but you just can't wipe the smile off your face. You walk toward him and he invites you in with open arms.
His strong arms wrap around your frame. You're so happy you could cry. Your arms wrap around him, squeezing his frame. You inhale, breathing in his scent. He smells like home. His touch is so comforting, this moment feels unreal. You hold him and appreciate him for everything he is.
He pulls away, looking down at you with a grin. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Hi, Shorty."
You grin up at him, bringing your hands to his hair. You run your fingers through it. "You cut it."
He nods. "Couple days ago yeah, you don't like it?"
"I always like it," You tell him truthfully. "But it was a little sexier when it was long."
He pulls you all the way inside, closing the door and locking it. "I'll tell management to let me grow it back out just for you."
"Doubt they'll see me as reason enough for that," You say.
"They'll just have to deal with it," He runs a hand through his hair. "I'll never let scissors touch my hair again if you say so."
Oh my gosh. You hate him.
You hate how he makes your heart skip a beat and he somehow always knows all the right things to say to you.
You giggle. "I wouldn't ask you to do that, Gyu."
"You'd still like me if I was bald?" He asks.
"Yeah Gyu, I would." You admit.
"Oh wow" He has a boyish grin on his face. "You like-like me."
"Yeah well, you like-like me too," You remind him.
"Damn right I do, Shorty," He pulls you in by your waist. "Don't know why you're so far away."
You squeal when your body moves against his. "I'm still wearing my shoes! I need to take them off."
"Relax Shorty," He lifts you up effortlessly, placing you on the kitchen counter.
He drops down, undoing your heels and placing them on the mat next to his front door. He stands back up to his full stature, face mere inches above yours.
He leans in. "I missed you."
You look up at him with soft eyes. There's so much yearning behind your pupils, that it makes you wonder if he can see through to it.
"I missed you too," You admit.
You find yourself back hin his arms. His big hands circle your waist, pressing your chests together. But now, his lips are on yours.
The kiss is soft, just delicate enough to express how much he missed you. Your small hand cups his cheek as your lips move against one another. His touches are gentle, but they spark so many things inside you, igniting you from the inside out.
But your moment is cut short when your growling stomach interrupts.
You pull away just a little bit, brushing your nose against his, giggling to yourself. He lets out a genuine laugh, holding your hand in his. "I did promise you food, didn't I?"
You nod. "I believe you did."
He helps you off the counter and back onto your feet. He walks over to the pantry.
"Sorry to get your hopes up," He admits sheepishly. "I just got back so... there's not much."
"Oh that's okay, it can't be–"
You open the fridge, finding virtually nothing. Some milk, A couple water bottles, half a carton of eggs, a few bottles of liquor, and a can of half-eaten kimchi.
You wedge your way in front of him, looking into the pantry and it's somehow worse. There's only stuff that needs to actually be cooked, and there's not much of it.
You fall dramatically into his chest and he laughs. "I told you there wasn't much."
His hand touches your lower back as you sink your face into his chest. This time, it feels right.
"Why did you even offer me food if you didn't have any?!" You exclaim.
He holds your head in his hands, cupping both of your cheeks. "I don't know, I guess I forgot Shorty. You do that to me."
While his words are making your stomach turn, the hunger rumbling is a lot louder. "Is the milk in the fridge even good?"
"Yeah, I just bought it today." He says casually.
"You went out and bought milk... and nothing else? Knowing you had no food?" You question.
"I needed it to go with my cereal," He shrugs. "But that's not important. Look, there's some rice in here."
He grabs the uncooked rice out of the pantry. "I can make you some fried rice with egg and kimchi. I've got soy sauce somewhere around here."
"No I think I'll just take some cereal," You walk out of his grasp, making your way toward the fridge.
He pouts. "I can cook for you though."
"I'll take you up on that offer another time," You tap his cheek with your palm lightly. "I'm very hungry. And you've got no vegetable to go with, not even a green onion. I'm getting some cereal."
You open the fridge, grabbing the milk while he gets the bowls and spoons. You try to grab the cereal box from above the fridge, but you can't quite reach it. Mingyu comes up behind you, grabbing it with ease and a shit-eating grin on his face.
You frown, but you're too hungry to make any comments. The two of you sit at the table, each pouring yourselves a bowl of cereal. "You said you just got back?" You ask.
He nods. "Like two days ago, I think. My sense of time is a little messed up, jetlag."
You nod in acknowledgment. He continues to tell you about the past few months since he's seen you. You play friends catching up as he answers all your questions about his life as of recent. The shows, the photoshoots, all the traveling, filming, and preparations for the upcoming months as well.
He asks you about work too, although your updates are not nearly as interesting as his though. But he doesn't ask out of courtesy, he genuinely cares. He likes hearing about your life, likes just listening to you speak even if you're not the one doing Calvin Klein photoshoots.
The time flies, and before you know it, it's 3 in the morning. You always find yourself invested in him when you're together, like the world around you ceases to exist. You get caught up, failing to realize that time is indeed still passing, and a lot of it.
He pulls you in by your hips, pressing your back onto his chest.He pulls the bowls and utensils out of your hands swiftly and turns you around.
"Nope, don't worry about that," he drops them into the sink. "You just go hop in the shower, I'll give you one of my t-shirts."
"Are you saying I stink?" You accuse him playfully.
"Never, Shorty." He kisses your cheek. "As much as I love this little dress on you, it's getting late and you should be in something comfy. Now go." He playfully taps your butt, sending you to the bathroom.
You look back at him, feigning offense as he grins.
______
When you step out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, there's a t-shirt laid out for you with a pair of boxers. You get dressed before walking down to the living room.
Mingyu lays there, scrolling through his phone. When he hears you enter, his attention shifts to you immediately and he gives you a warm smile.
He sits up all the way and pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him. "Thank you, for letting me using the shower and for the food."
He holds you close to him. "Of course Shorty
"Where are your clothes?" He asks.
"Folded on the dresser in your room, why?" You ask.
He pulls you off his lap and stands to his feet. "Wanna wash them so you can have them tomorrow. Are they washer and dryer safe?"
"Yeah, but you don't have to worry about it." You assure him.
"Don't worry about it, I have clothes I need to was anyway. I'll just through yours in with them," he says.
He disappears up into his room and when he emerges, he's holding a basket of clothes and your dress on top. He walks down and walks over to you on the couch.
"That's all you had? Just the dress and the panties? No bra?" He asks.
You grin. "Nope."
He inhales sharply, but pushes his thoughts aside. "Come with."
You follow behind him downstairs. He leads you to the laundry room in the basement.
You sit on the dryer as he loads the washing machine. There's a comfortable silence in the atmosphere. Everything about this is so comforting... so domestic. It's exactly what you needed.
"Hand me that?" he says, pointing to the detergent behind you. "Please?"
You grab the detergent, handing it to him. "Thank you, Shorty."
After he's done with it, he hands it back to you and adjusts the settings before starting up the machine.
"Ready for bed?" He asks.
You nod, reaching your arms out to him. He turns around, lifting you off the machine and piggybacking you all the way up to his bedroom. He drops your body on his plush mattress and strips down to just his boxers. He places his glasses on his dresser gently. Immediately after, he climbs under the covers. You join him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.
He pulls your body against his, yearning to have you close to him. He looks at you with a softness in his eyes. His hand runs along your thigh gently and innocently.
But right now, close doesn't feel close enough. You've missed him so much, you want to feel consumed by him. You need him inside of you.
You press your forehead against his, look at him with soft, sultry eyes. His hands start to wander, moving from your thighs to your butt.
Almost simultaneously, you pick up on one another's energy. The sexual tension grows and pretty soon his lips are on yours again. You moan softly against his lips.
He brings his hand to your cheek, cupping it softly as your lips move against his in perfect harmony. He takes everything you give and vice versa,perfectly in sync.
Pretty soon, you're itching to get undressed even though his clothes are extremely comfortable. You're eager for more of him, pulling away from the kiss.
"Gyu," You breathe out.
"I know baby, fuck–I know," He pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him once again.
He lifts your hips enough to pull his boxers off of your body. The t-shirt you're narrowing is next to go, leaving you completely naked on his lap.
"Fuck," He whispers. "You're so pretty, Shorty. Need you so bad."
You lean over, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. You know better than to leave marks, but you grind down against him slowly. He lets out a shaky breath, holding your hips as you move against him. "Mm-fuck."
His cock grows stiff beneath you, poking against your bare core. You grind down harder, feeling the veins of his cock against your clit through his boxers. "Feels good, Gyu.." You moan.
You chase the friction selfishly. You know you could cum like this, and with how good it feels, you're not entirely against it. But his hand comes in between the two of you, pressing against your pussy to feel how wet you are.
"Fuck, Shorty you're soaking..." he groans.
You can only nod in agreement as the pads of his fingers graze your clit. You're dripping on his fingers, so much so that he could easily slip–
"–You want my fingers?"
Fuck, he knows you so well.
You nod eagerly. He pinches your clit, making you yelp.
"Use your words baby."
You mewl. "Yes, fuck yes, please."
He lifts your body, flipping you over so you're underneath him. He holds himself up with his arm, hovering over you as he slips two fingers into you with ease.
Even though it's just his fingers, he can feel how tight you are. Your cunt stretches around his digits as he pumps them into you. You moan out, feeling the way the pleasure builds in your lower region.
His fingers are so skilled and he knows your body well. He knows that when he curls his finger, you're gonna squeeze your legs together and cry out.
Which is exactly what you do when he curls his fingers inside of you. He pries your legs back open, picking up the pace of his fingers as you moan out loud. "Ah fuck–nngh."
His cock twitches in anticipation as he pleasures you. He's not focused on it right now, but your pleasure is his pleasure.
"Shit–I'm gonna cum," You warn him, gripping his bicep.
He grins, teasing you with his words. "Already, Shorty?"
You breathe out, pushing your hips against his hands. "Fuck– 's been a while.
Oh?
His digits press against the sweet spot deep inside of you and you arch your back up off the bed and cry out. "You don't touch yourself when I'm not here, Shorty?"
"Not enough–ah!" You moan. "Can't cum."
You know you'd never admit this if you weren't drinking earlier or on the brink of an orgasm. But your words affect him more than he lets it show.
He's ruined you.
That means you haven't slept with anyone since he last saw you. And to top it off, you can't get yourself off without his help. A sense of pride fills his chest and only encourages him to go faster, pushing you over the edge.
Although, the same can't be said for him. The pride in his chest is pinched by a small twinging of guilt.
It's not something you really talk about with each other. You know it happens, but you choose not to acknowledge it. As much as it feels like it when you're together, you're not together. It's been nearly three years since your relationship, if you can even call it that, came to fruition.
But with him constantly busy and on the move, you've spent a small fraction of those three years in each other's presence. When he's not with you, he's performing and traveling the world. He catches the attention of plenty of other pretty girls who are more than willing to sign an NDA to spend the night with him.
He's just a man after all. And a famous one who constantly travels at that. He's got needs of his own and the means to fulfill them.
He's someone you trust. You know he'd never catch something and risk bringing it to you. He's too careful, has too much at stake with his career.
But those thoughts only cloud his mind, and for a brief moment at that. With you underneath him, writhing and gasping for air as you cum on his fingers, his attention is fully on you.
He pins your body on on the bed, adding more pressure as you grip his bicep. You nails dig into his skin, sure to leave marks. He doesn't mind though, not when you cry out his name and screw your eyes shut in pleasure.
Your hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. "Shit, Shorty... that's it, yeah."
It takes a moment for you to come down. When you do, you blink your eyes open, loosening your grip on his bicep. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your neck. His fingers slip out of you slowly and you whine as the loss of touch.
His hard length presses against your thigh, making it very known how badly he needs you. You think about pushing him down on the bed and sucking him dry, but you'd much rather have him inside of you.
You press a hand on his chest gently, pointer finger lightly dragging on his skin. "Mmm, that was so good, Gyu."
"Yeah?" He lifts his head up.
You bite your lip seductively and nod softly. "Yeah... want you to fuck me now, though."
He licks his lips slowly. "Want it, or need it?"
"Need it, need it so fucking bad, Gyu" You pull at the material of his boxers. You're so needy. He can hear it in your voice and it's clear in your actions. He wants to give you everything and more.
He presses his hips down against you and you help him to pull of his boxers. You wrap your hand around his cock and start pumping him slowly. He lets out a breath of relief.
His cock is hard and heavy in your hand. It's pulsing and aching to be touched. He inhales sharply when you circle your thumb around the tip, smearing his precum around.
You love it when he's sensitive like this, so reactive. It reminds you that you have just as much of an effect on him as he does on you. You continue to pump him, and he reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a gold package.
You snatch the condom out of his hand. "I wanna do it."
He grins. "Okay, Shorty."
You tear open the packaging with your teeth.
"You know, you shouldn't do that," He warns you. "Could accidentally puncture a hole in it. Wouldn't want another pregnancy scare would we?"
You toss the gold wrapper onto the nightstand. "First of all, you use your teeth every time we do this. Second of all, you used your teeth to open the condom the time we had to scare." You remind him.
He smirks. "I learn from my mistakes, baby."
You ignore him, rolling the condom onto his length and laying on your back. He hovers over you again, stroking his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.
When he enters you, the stretch is immaculate. You both breathe out, moaning as he bottoms out inside of you. He sinks further into you, deep into your warmth and you stretch to accommodate him perfectly.
"Fuck... Gyu," You moan out, wrapping your arms around his muscular back.
"Shorty... fuck me–" He groans. You breathe out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing your hips up into him. You move in perfect sync as his hips drive into yours. His neck nearly goes limp as his head dips down. "Yeah, Shorty–just like that–uh. Fuck, you're so hot, baby."
"Mingyu–" You moan out. "I missed you so much... so fucking much."
His hips snap back, his cock thrusting deep into you. "Missed you too, missed everything about you."
His thrusts slow down, but they don't stop. He taps the side of your thigh, silently telling you to unwrap your legs around around him. You oblige, and he lifts your legs up.
He drives his cock deeper into you, bringing your legs over his shoulders. You gasp out at the sudden stretch and wave of pleasure that hits you.
The pure force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain turns into pleasure into pleasure, the noises he makes – it's overwhelming in the best way possible. It's so much, but it's so good, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as your breath catches in your throat. You eyes fall shut as your face scrunches in pleasure before the sensation courses through through you and you can hardly take it. Your hands grip the sheets tightly.
"Fuck... pussy's so good," He groans. " 'S all mine."
"Hah-fuck," You cry out.
"Tell me it's mine, baby," He demands. "C'mon Shorty."
Your eyes fall shut and your breathe in through your nose as his cock pushes deeper into you. Your voice is broken and soft. "It's all yours–"
He thrusts into you particularly hard. "Say it again–louder."
"Fuck! It's all yours."
It's a lie, somewhat. Everything between you two is complicated, yet simple. But in moments like these, you don't focus on the small details or realities.
"That's what I fucking thought," He groans.
You whimper, pussy fluttering around him. A telltale sign that you're close to the edge. His pace doesn't falter, and he continues to fuck you as your orgasm courses through your body.
Your body spasms beneath him, writhing to escape the overwhelming pleasure. He doesn't let you though, pinning your body down as he continues to drive his cock deep inside of you.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck–uh!" You cry out. Tears are brimming the corners of your eyes.
Your pussy tightens around him, convulsing as you cum for the second time tonight. He watches as your face twists and contorts with pleasure, a sight that remains forever etched in his memory.
You're still coming down while he's fucking you, grunting and groaning with each thrust of his hips. There's sweat dripping down his body, causing his skin to glisten in the moonlight.
Your mind is hazy, still struggling to process all the pleasure you're body is enduring. You're growing overstimulated, but you can tell he's getting close.
His hips lose their rhythm, thrusts growing erratic and uncoordinated as your pussy milks him. He lets out a long groan, cursing out your name as he spills his load into the rubber.
His chest rises and falls rapidly as he sits up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before pulling out of you and allowing your feet to touch the bed.
His body is spent, and the soft look in your eyes relaxes him. It makes him feel blissful and at ease, it makes the sleepiness creep its way into his body.
You wrap your arms around his neck softly pulling his face toward yours. "All good?"
"Fuckin perfect," he sighs with a smile.
He's too close and too tempting not to kiss. So you do, softly pressing your lips against one another. The feeling in your heart is overwhelming. You don't know that he feels it too, two hearts moving rapidly yet somehow in perfect sync.
It's moments like these where there's a conundrum of things weighing heavily on your mind that you want to express or say out loud, but you don't. You know better than that, and so does he.
So a kiss will have to do. To speak the words that will remain unspoken and seal it closed. A silent way to express the thoughts that run through your brains and the emotions that are pouring out of your hearts.
So you kiss him, because that's all you can do for now. While he's still here, while he's still yours.
___
After you two clean up, you climb back into the bed. You face each other, laying on your sides.
His eyes are closed, but he's not fully encaptured by his slumber. He's halfway there though, pouting in his state of rest with a soft expression. He looks so peaceful, so cute. Such a contrast to the man who had your legs thrown over his shoulders only minutes prior.
You press your hand onto his hair, pushing it back ever so lightly as you admire his features. You see the smile tugging at his lips. "Go to sleep, Shorty."
His eyes don't open as he speaks to you.
"Sorry," You say sheepishly. I was just admiring."
"Cute, you can admire in the morning though. Go to sleep, baby."
You nod, although he can't see you, and exhale softly. You adjust the comforter and his eyes blink open slowly.
"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he offers, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.
You hum, smiling to yourself. "lemme guess, cereal?"
A breathy laugh escapes his lips. "Alright, I'll take you out for breakfast, or we can order in if you can't walk."
You punch his shoulder playfully before burying your face against his chest. You fall asleep in his arms peacefully.
_______________________________________________
© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.
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katsukikitten · 5 months
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cum here
Warnings: spit, dub con
A Bakugou Birthday collab read the intro on the ML first!
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A notification pulls your attention in your tipsy stupor as you collapse half dressed in your bed. Another successful night out with your girlfriends when your favorite pro hero posts a picture.
A thirst trap no less making you pop up in bed, the room spins delightfully as you stare down at the picture, screen shooting it without a care that he may get a notification for it but you were sure that you wouldn't be the only one.
Bakugou Katsuki, THE Dynamight with his shirt up exposing his abs, his Adonis belt and the vein that leads down to what has to be his fat cock.
You salivate over the thought of it and the several shots of tequila have you feeling bold, although your friends would argue you'd have been this bold sober simply because of how much you spoke about him even if most of the public thought he was an asshole you claimed that's what made him so fucking hot.
Pushing up your tits and angling your phone just right before you snap a photo and attach it to a very public reply before you slip into his dms to send a little something extra.
Bakugou's phone becomes nuclear to say the least, blown up from how many replies and notifications has gotten in such a short time. Each and every woman and the few male prospects are more than attractive and yet none make his cock jump to life, not fully anyway.
Until he sees you, tapping on the picture to make it full screen.
Soft fat tits pressed together, skin aglow in the ambient low light of warm string lights. Tongue lolling past pretty lips, wet muscle most likely fluttering before you took the picture. Obvious that you waited long enough for drool to drip from the tip in a silvery string as some droplets collected on those perfect tits. Pinching his screen to zoom in on your sexy mouth he imagines pressing his angry cock head against before he shoved his length until you gagged around him.
He groans at the thought, zooming out to take in all of you before he finally reads the caption..
Cum here.
“Fuck.” He growls, clicking on your profile, going to privately message you in hopes of more pictures. Palm moving to free his cock from his boxers when he sees you messaged him first.
Sharing your location with the pro hero like a fucking idiot. What if Bakugou had been hacked?
And here you were offering yourself up on a silver platter.
Cum here echoes in his head as he backs out to your selfie and before he can talk himself out of it he's jumping back into the tight black denim that never made it past his thighs.
You lock your phone falling back into your bed after you've seen that he's read your messages. Sighing as you hadn't expected much else, especially since it was his birthday and half of the feed were thirst traps of others tagging Dynamight in hopes of getting his attention. He ignored every single one of them, even from well known models and porn stars, so what chance did you really have?
Still, it was fun to be a little delusional every now and again.
Fireworks echo in the distance and you're surprised the spring festival was going this late into the night. Never one to miss a good show you rise from your bed, topless and half drunk to watch the last of the fireworks before you'd pass out, sleep well past noon before ordering a fat order or take out.
Leaving the sliding glass door open when the cool night air makes you shiver and regret foregoing a shirt. Eyes adjusting to the dark easily but your eyebrow furrows up in confusion. You hear the fireworks but you can't see them.
At least not well, a small orange burst that makes you wonder if maybe they aren't fireworks at all, that maybe it was just a villain making their grand escape.
Scoffing you turn, closing the sliding glass door only for it to be stopped in its tracks. Looking up for see a hulking shirtless man shrouded in darkness on your balcony. Smoke, caramel and whisky envelope your senses as the man breathes evenly behind you. You blink once, twice before you register his eye color.
Toxic, crystalline bromine.
"Dynamight?”
“In the flesh, Sweetheart.” He removes his hand from the frame of the door, takes a step towards you and you step back.
Stalking forward until you're both fully in the room and he delights in the mixture of emotions in your eyes. Fear, excitement, arousal.
“Haaah, what's wrong? Little kitty is acting more like a cornered bunny. Ya scared?” He leers over you, crowding your space, “Shouldn't be. Yer the one who invited the big bad wolf.”
Grabbing onto your chin to turn your pretty face this way and that, he doesn't even need to force his eyes away from your chest, your face captivates him that much. He runs his tongue across his teeth before he smirks.
“Now where am I supposed to cum again?” His large thumb swipes over your plush lips before he shoves it between them, forcing your mouth open.
He tries to recreate the picture you sent him, watches the wet muscle flutter and it makes him salivate. Makes him gather it in his mouth before he's pushing it the tip of his tongue letting his spit hit your tongue.
“Right here wasn't it?” He mixes his spit with yours with his thumb, pressing down on your tongue harshly. He watches your eyes widen before they narrow, into that hungry cat gaze that was in your photo.
Eyes that devour him whole as you hollow your cheeks to suck on his thumb. Swirling it around the digit before you pop off of him, the lewd sound echoing around the two of you.
You're fast, faster than Bakugou, especially drunk, expects. Jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his waist, bucking your hips to make him fall onto the bed with a grunt as your tongue slides into his mouth. He paws at you heavily, grabbing at all your delicious softness as he growls into your mouth, calloused hands still warm from his journey here. Launching himself into the air that did little to sober him after he stalked your profile enough to get your apartment floor and balcony right.
Your claws dig into the nape of his neck as you bring him into a sitting position parting the kiss slowly, letting the silvery string that connects the two of you snap on its own.
“Gonna let me take care of the birthday boy and his special request?” You practically purr, crawling down his body as your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and jeans. All but ripping them from his body even when he lifts his hips to help you free his cock while he grunts out a “‘Course.”
It stands at attention, jumping as your eyes fixate on the one thing you've fucked yourself to the thought of hundreds of times. Drunk all over again, eyes falling to half mast as your hand grips him firmly, listening to him hiss over the contact before you give him a few languid pumps.
Hovering over him for a moment before you look up, watching his pupils blown wide, wider than what they were at the door. Soft almost unnoticeable red tint to his cheeks as he tries to control his breath.
“Try not to fall in love.” You giggle, lolling your tongue out to swipe over the leaking slit in a quick stripe.
“Ya wish, Sweetheart.” But already his head is falling back, hands reaching to grab at your hair before you swipe him away.
Slowly taking him into your mouth, hand gripping what you can't fit into your mouth, letting his fat cock head gag so that your throat contacts the same way your cunt would. Saliva pooling past your lips to coat his shaft, gagging again when you hear him groan before you start a steady pace.
Bobbing your head, alternating hollowing your cheeks and letting him ram into the back of your throat. Giggling when you push his head into the pocket of your cheek, holding eye contact and he reaches down to pull his balls harshly.
He's never been this close to cumming with such little effort.
You let your molars graze him lightly before straightening him in your mouth again. Sure to hit your gag reflex purposefully so that his pre and your spit soak his neatly trimmed pubic hair that's starting to slick to his skin.
If you're lucky he'll stay long enough for your pussy to do that to him too. Cunt neglected as it soaks your underwear as you adjust your weight on your knees for some sort of friction.
Moaning around him when he groans loudly, at his hisses and growls of sugared curses that do nothing but encourage your sinful movements.
Katsuki is panting, the man with all the endurance in the world is fighting the building coil in his lower abdomen and losing.
Bakugou Katsuki never loses but tonight he just might.
Letting his fingers card through your hair before he's pulling harshly, still you don't budge. Lost in your mission to make this last as long as possible by changing from a speed that's bound to make his cum flood your mouth to a slow bob that has you gagging around his sensitive head every time.
Letting your eyes flicker to look up at him and his debauched face, throughly fucked out as his chest heaves eyes fixated on you even as he struggles to hold his head up as if he couldn't bare to look away from.the things you do to him.
The sight is enough to make your eyes flutter, to make you moan around him and the vibrations make his sac tighten, moving your hand so you can shove all of him deep into your tight throat, tears in your eyes that stick in long lashes and fall in fat droplets as you bob on his entire length, once, twice.
And he can't take it, the sight, your eyes all but begging him to cum as you choke yourself on him, as if his pleasure was more important than air.
“Oh fuck princess, just like that.” He groans, cupping the back of your skull as he presses enough to make you gag one last time before he bucks his hips up into you. Starving you of air as your nose is pressed to his pelvic bone while he paints your pretty throat in sticky white cum, your claws digging into the thick meat of his thighs deliciously.
Finally he lets you up and you gasp desperately for air even if you found his aggression as he chased his high undeniably hot. You expect him to smirk, expect him to laugh or to leave pulling up his pants in a hurry but he doesn't.
Instead his large hand grips your chin, pulling you to him as his free hand comes to wrap around your sensitive ribs. Closing the space so that he can kiss you, swiping his tongue over yours shamefully groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself mixed with your spit.
“Fuck.” He pulls you onto the bed, flipping the two of you so he can pin you to the mattress chasing your lips desperately. His other hand has a mind of its own as it rips your panties from your hot core, fingers quick to press and spread your glistening folds. Cruelly avoiding your clit before he shoves two thick digits knuckle deep into your drooling cunt.
Forcing you to arch off the bed, pumping into you with a harsh pace, fingers perfectly positioned to bully that spongy spot that has you seeing stars before he times it perfectly.
Pulling away enough to look you in your eyes before he slowly, roughly, swipes his thumb over your clit and makes you cum in a matter of seconds, faster than any toy. You arch off the bed with a moan so loud you're sure the neighbors know his name now, little do you know what else he has in store.
Removing his middle and ring finger from your fluttering cunt reluctantly, quick to press the digits to his tongue harshly. Smoky caramel fills your senses as his palm heats against the fabric by your head. Leaning over you again to swipe his tongue against yours to taste the two of you melded together in your hot, hungry mouth. He pulls away, hand gently cupping your throat as he holds your gaze, cock heavy and hard again as he aligns it with your still convulsing entrance.
“Sorry Sweetheart, guess I fell in love.” He bullies himself into you in one harsh thrust and you're seeing stars again.
“Now I gotta return the favor.”
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cherryredstars · 1 month
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Construction worker!Ghost x Teacher!Reader? They're married and every time Ghost comes home he's instantly pussy drunk at the sight of the reader and hurries up finish eating so he can get to 'dessert' and makes sure his lovely wife gets absolutely cock drunk to remember forever like he always does?
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Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley" x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Oral Sex
Unedited
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His back aches.
A common occurrence after lugging around bags of concrete and bricks. There is an uncomfortable knot that always flares between his shoulder blades, and Simon sniffs in discomfort as he shifts his hard hat between his arm and side. He's long decided that if a warm shower doesn't help his muscles let up, he'll ask you for a massage. Maybe he'll even ask for you to use the really expensive, nice smelling lotion you bought as a treat to yourself.
His keys knock together as he opens the front door, the scent of you and homemade food instantly flooding his senses. The house is pleasantly cool, drying the sweat that still clings to his skin from the long day in the summer sun. He can hear whatever you're watching from the entrance as he hangs up his work vest and hat, turning to find you sitting in front of the coffee table. Colorful paper in different shapes is spread out in front of you, no doubt something for your students. You turn at the sound of him entering and you give him that breath-taking smile that still makes his stomach dip.
You get up from your spot, letting him get a clear view of the outfit you wore to work today. It's a pretty little summer dress with splashes of color and a skirt flowing just below your knees. Simon can feel saliva pooling on his tongue as you approach, his fingers twitching. You have to balance on the tips of your toes to reach his face, your hands grabbing his cheeks as your soft lips press against his chapped ones. You smell like glue and the summery perfume you wear to match the season. You pull away far too quickly for his liking, and his hands grab at your waist so you don't go too far.
"I've been waiting for you," You declare, hands planted flat on his paint-stained shirt. "Dinner is on the table."
Simon hums, his thumbs rubbing at your sides through the fabric. He lets you lead him to the table when your hands slide down to capture one of his, tugging him along behind you. He can't help the way his eyes follow the curve of your spine, dipping down to the soft swell of your ass. He licks his lips as he sits down at the table, hungry for something more than a home-cooked meal.
You just look so tempting as you sit across from him, giving him that cute smile before you begin eating. You don't even act surprised when Simon starts devouring his plate, already used to his unending appetite. You're barely halfway done with your food when Simon cleans his plate.
"Do you want seconds?" You ask him, looking up at him.
Your stomach drops when you meet his heated eyes. Something in you stirs, and you have to look away for a moment to avoid being sucked into his hypnotic stare.
"In the mood for dessert," Simon grumbles, leaning back in his chair. You gulp, the meaning of his words hitting you straight in your chest. Still, you decide to play coy.
"We have some cookie dough I can pop into the oven real quick?" You offer, pushing yourself away from the table. "Or I can get us some ice cream if you want something cold."
Simon says nothing as you begin to gather the plates, but he pushes away from the table and follows you inside the kitchen. You can feel the heat of his body searing your back as you place the dishes in the sink, hesitantly turning your head to face him. He towers over you effortlessly, and you gasp when his large hands grab at your hips and turn your body to face him.
He lifts you onto the counter top without a single sign of struggle, the back of your dress becoming wet from small spots of water. Even now you have to turn your head up to look him in the eye, and your mouth slightly gapes as he leans in.
"Craving something else." He finally responds, hands grabbing at your skirt and yanking it up to your waist. You gasp, watching as Simon bends down to inspect his next course.
Your panties already have a darkened patch of arousal, and you make a noise of embarrassment when he presses his nose to it and inhales the sweetly tangy scent of your slick. He pushes further, letting his tongue lap at the spot and groaning as if he could taste the full extent of your drooling cunt. Your hands fly to his hair, the short strands filling your palms as you moan out.
You can feel the bastard smiling against you, his warm breath driving you crazy. One of his hands slips away from your skirt, the fabric draping over your thigh and bunching on the counter as he uses it to move your panties aside. The cool air against your core makes you gasp, but it's quickly replaced with the hot suction of his mouth. His mouth is scolding as he suckles at the tiny bud between your folds, wasting no time in taking his desired fill of you.
He alternates between long sucks and rapid licks, toying with the bundle of nerves before moving to your dripping slit. The tip of his tongue prods at it, not quite penetrating the leaking hole. Simon groans softly against you when you throw your feet over his shoulders, your heel digging into a sore spot in his back. But the pain just heightens his senses, pushing him to finally tongue fuck you.
A string of moans and whines escape your lips, hands tugging at Simon's hair as waves of pleasure fill your stomach. You try to call out his name, attempting to tell him how amazing it feels- how quickly your high is approaching- but it gets lost in the mind numbing pleasure that fogs your brain. You're left shaking when the build up explodes, your body slumping and your hands trying to push Simon's face away. He grunts, fighting you as he laps up the last of your release, savoring the taste as it coats his mouth. He pulls away with one last, harsh suck to your clit, chuckling when you whimper from the sensitivity.
He lets you catch your breath as he stands up, fixing your panties and skirt. Your body is lax and sluggish, and you don't protest when Simon begins to carry you out of the kitchen and to the bathroom. He whispers soft praises into your ear, telling you how well you took his feasting and how pretty you looked while doing it. You smile happily to yourself, tightening your arms around him as best as you can in your sedated state. As Simon carries you, he realizes that the annoying knot in his back has disappeared.
Maybe all he needed was a good taste of his wife's pussy to heal him.
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Jealousy
Three times Jason gets jealous during dates and one time you do (Pre-established relationship) ~1.6k words
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You're perfect. Funny. Smart. Gorgeous. Jason's life has never been better since he's asked you to be his partner. (Okay, hush, you asked him, but he was getting there, he swears, he had this twelve step plan and everything. Tim was going to jump off a ledge while throwing rose petals. Rose petals!)
He can't find a single problem with how your relationship is going. Well, expect, how everyone else seems to want your attention you too.
The little Café you wanted to try is nice, really. The guy behind the counter that's been staring at you since you both got here? Not so nice. It's annoying, how the guys gaze seems to linger on your legs, your smile, the way you brush your hair back. It's a struggle to focus on your words– but not a struggle to watch the way your lips move when you talk.
The worker takes a step out from behind the counter.
Oh hell no.
Jason's on his feet and pulling out the chair next to you in an instant, between one word your pretty voice is saying and the next, he's sitting by your side with an arm draped around your shoulder.
He loses his train of thought when you smile, pleased, and raise an eyebrow.
"What's this for, Jason?"
"Wanted to hear you better." He says, or he thinks he says that. He's too busy watching the creep slink back behind the counter, satisfaction growing in his chest.
You laugh. (He thinks angels might descend from the sky when you do.) And go back to telling your story. It's much easier to listen this time. That's what he tells himself, at least until your thigh presses against his.
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Gotham Zoo is actually really nice for, you know, Gotham. Bruce poured money into it before, but ever since Damian found out about it, he's practically ensured the place will run ethically and comfortably for the next 100 years. Which Jason thought was cool, but it's even cooler that he gets to watch his partner coo over the new petting zoo.
"Aw, Jason, look at the lambs! They're so soft. I wanna take one home." You sound giddy, eyes bright and smile wide. He can't quite pull his focus away from you to see which creature you're referring to.
"They're pretty cute." He responds instead. Not cuter than you, though.
"Could you imagine one for the apartment? They'd sleep in bed with us. It would be like cuddling a cloud." You say idly, fingers stoking the top of the animals head.
That makes him pause. How'd he cuddle you if there's some barn animal in the middle of the bed? There's no way he could get close enough to you if some pet you found cute was cuddled between you. He clears his throat. "Well, ah, I don't know how the landlord feels about lambs but you can always cuddle me? I'm– I could be soft?" Wow, okay. Not what he wanted to say. He cringes a little.
But you stand up, smiling brighter and gaze focused on him. That settles the feeling in the pit of his stomach. You curl your fingers with his and take his hand, pulling it to your face to kiss his knuckles. "You're my favorite thing to cuddle, you know."
Oh. "Huh. I mean, good." He stumbles out. No, his ears are definitely not feeling warm. And no, his heart isn't beating faster as he follows you towards the next enclosure. "I could wear wool, though? If you wanted?"
That makes you laugh. Eyes trailing to him with such fondness he nearly sinks to his knees. Until he sees the playfulness etched in your face. "I saw you petting those rabbits early. I could wear bunny ears? If you wanted?"
He chokes on air. You might be trying to kill him. His whole face feels as heated as his ears. "Wow. I– if you wanted?"
You giggle, pulling away to observe the next lucky animal that you see.
"Hey. Wait–" He says your name, voice a little pitched. "Did you want–?" You only wink at him. That shuts him. And if he spends the rest of the date a little distracted, well, you seem proud that you managed to make him so flustered.
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Your coworker has been talking to you for thirteen minutes and fourty-seven seconds. Jason knows this because he's been watching the clock since he got here. It happens more often than not, him walking you home from work. He shows up fifteen minutes early because he knows you'll slip out given the chance. Something about not taking up too much of his time. Don't you know you're the only one he wants to spend his time with?
Jason crosses his arms, eyes narrowing at your coworker. Three inches. That's the amount of space your coworker has moved closer to you since he's gotten here. Not respectable at all. Doesn't he know you're with Jason? Maybe he should have stopped into that jewelry store he was eyeing earlier. And called Tim to put in an order for rose petals.
Your coworker shifts another inch towards you. And that's it. Your shift has thirty-five seconds left and that's exactly the amount of time it takes for him to be by your side. His arm slips around your waist comfortably, like it belongs there, because it does. He kisses your cheek and lets his gaze settle on your coworker. And if his face is a little more threatening than usual, he definitely isn't trying to intimidate your coworker. (Yes, he is.)
"Ready to go home, sweetheart?" He drawls, body relaxed like he isn't torn between showing your coworker exactly who you're dating and pushing down the jumble of emotion in his throat. "I was thinking take out for dinner?"
You relax into his side. Oh. You relaxed into his side and you're smiling at him. It evens out the pounding in his heart he didn't even realize was happening. The tension threatening to take over his shoulders disappears like it never existed.
"Yeah, Jason, I'm ready. I missed you. Just let me clock out." You pull away– 'no' he starts to think– and then you take his hand, pulling him along with you.
"I missed you too." He answers, and you don't quite see the smug grin he sends over his shoulder to your coworker.
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Jason's perfect. Funny. Smart. Gorgeous. Willing to try new things. A total package. That's something you know about your boyfriend. So when he agreed to go dancing with you at Gothams newest club, you were excited. A whole night spent enjoying time with your boyfriend. And you both get to dress up a little. You feel hot, and he definitely looks hot. You didn't think that'd be an issue. But, it is. Because you can see your boyfriend getting held up by two of the prettiest girls you've ever seen.
He's holding two drinks, one for himself and one he went to get for you. It soothes the tightness in your throat that he does not look thrilled to be talking to them. The softness he has when he's with you gone, replaced with poorly masked annoyance.
Any comfort you were feeling from the look on his face disappears when one of the girls puts her hand on his arm, giggling like he's said the funniest thing in the world. Absolutely not. You're walking over to them before Jason even has time to shrug her hand from his arm.
"Hey, honey." You say, voice sweet and sugary as you take one of the drinks from his hand, hooking your arm through his and tucking yourself against him. "Everything okay?"
It makes your heart flutter everytime, the way his entire face seems to change when he looks at you. "Hey, baby. Yeah. Everything's okay. Didn't mean to take so long. Were you worried?" He asks, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair.
The girls seem to deflate at how his complete attention is on you, how he instinctively shifts until you're pressed flushed against his side, two pieces of a whole. You have to force back the pride that threatens to glint in your eyes. "Not worried. I just was getting bored without you."
Neither of you really look over at the girls when they murmur something about catching up with their friends, but Jason manages a polite nod. Once they're gone, his grin widens, eyes teasing. "You were jealous. You called me honey."
You gasp in mock offense, yes, honey isn't the first term of endearment you jump to, but it's a perfectly valid word for him. "Jealous? Jealous that my tall, dark, sweet, and handsome boyfriend was getting hit on?"
He laughs, you think you might have swooned in a different time. "C'mon, pretty. Give me this. I saw you watching."
You can't help but smile at him and wonder, vaugley, if he knows you'd give him anything he asked of you. "Yeah, yeah. I was a little jealous. But, don't think I don't notice when you get jealous. Now, come dance with me. I like this song."
Now it's his turn to gasp, faux denial on his face. "I have never, not once in my life, been jealous."
You roll your eyes, playful and light as you pull him along to the dance floor. "Alright, lover boy. Because you're definitely not the reason my coworker wouldn't talk to me for a week."
He looks pleased at that. "He didn't?"
You raise yourself on your toes, kissing his cheek and leaving a smudge of lipstick. Neither of you move to wipe it off. "Mm. No. He didn't."
"Nice." He mumbles, unhooking your arms so he can hold your waist as you reach the dance floor. "I do get jealous too, though, sometimes."
Laughing, you find the beat of the music together and your world centers on him, just how his centers on you. "I know."
1K notes · View notes
on-the-clear-blue · 1 month
Text
Dead Man's Diner pt 4
"THOSE FUCKING BITCHES SAM!" Danny shouted as he stormed into his apartment, slinging his backpack off by the door as he toes his shoes off.
Rounding the corner of the hallway, Danny was met with Tucker, shirtless with only a pair of plaid boxers on, staring at him with sleep glazed eyes, he had a box of cereal in one hand, and a bottle of oat milk in the other, raising the bottle in a salute, Tucker stuffed a handful of cereal into his mouth before taking a swig of the milk, holding up a hand to stop Danny from speaking as he chewed, only letting his hand fall before he spoke.
"What?"
"The Bats are fucking assholes!"
Tucker looked back at the bottle of oat milk, sighed and placed it back in the refrigerator, chucking the box of cereal on the counter, Tucker grabbed Danny by the shoulders.
"Of course they are Jerks Danny..." his grip tightened as he started to shake the Halfa, "I have ten deadlines and 5 missed calls, I really want to geek out right now about you meeting the local heroes but I really don't have the time, so yes, jerks, tell me about it later okay?"
Danny phased through the tough grip on his shoulders, letting out a giggle as he watched Tucker fumble as he no longer had someone to help steady himself, "I did yell specifically for Sam, Tuck so you can't get mad at me! Go huant the Wanyetech building, I know for sure those dudes are way more dead inside than I am!"
Getting a groan from his friend at his dead pun, Danny continued into the apartment, snatching Tuckers cereal box off the counter as he went to sit in the living room.
Spotting Sam typing something on a lap top, her big over the ear headphones blaring as he flops down next to her, which thankfully was enough for her to notice him.
Offering g the box of cereal to her, she sent him a tired smile as she slipped the head phones off and took some of the fruit flavored rings, "Hey there Deadstuff...how was work?"
Danny sent her a grin, "Well, Clocky decided to throw me a bone and I think I got this? He is a little bitch boy that sends me all over the place but this time it was a dined, Lunch Lady taught me how to cook." Pasuing to stuff a new handful of tasty fruity goodness, Danny spoke around the cereal in his mouth "Cookin' ish so much more cool when da food isn't trying to kill you"
Slapping Danny's arm as she rolled her "Don't eat with your mind full and tell me what got you so riled up" Sliding her laptop of her self she tucked her knees up before stretching them out over Danny, who was already going off on his story.
"Wait wait! You had Nightwing in you're restaurant and you didn't get me an autograph?" Same shot Danny a scowl, who at least had the decency to look sorry
"I was going to but they fucking dined and dashed Sam! Even when I was actively Phantom, I never, ever just left a bill!"
---
Dick knew that perhaps eating the food was a slightly bad idea, given the look B gave them when him and Tim pulled into the Cave.
He was standing there, arms crossed, thankfully cowl down, what made the sight infinitely less intimidating was Damian doing the same next to him, his head tilted to look down at them and perhaps standing on his tittpy toes a little bit.
Dick wanted to coo at the father son bonding, but remembered he had to act at least a little chastised at the moment "Yes I am sorry B, It was my decision to head in, there was no outward danger so we just took a chance."
Wincing at the gruff grunt he got from that Dick powered on, "I will write a more detailed report, but personally if anything wrong it's likely that the kid working there is Meta? I dont-"
"He can't be meta! He is very clearly a ghost Dick!" Tim interrupted already flipping through some notes he had made on the way back home, "its the only explanation...or he is a 5th dimensional Imp with a passion for cooking but I really hope not those guys suck to deal with..."
Dick nodded at that, but had to say some thing foe his own superfan imp "Nightmite is a chill dude helps sometimes with cases back in Bludhaven!"
Giving a sigh, Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose, "No mites, no metas, no ghost, go to Medbay I am running blood tests on what sweet hell you have ingested."
---
Bruce ran the test again, sure that it was wrong, praying that it was wrong.
TEST COMPLETE
TRACE LAZARUS WATERS DETECTED
Underneath was lists of chemical make ups of the samples Tim took and his sons blood, there were varying levels through out the food samples, some lighter but others were heavy on it.
What was stumping him was...it was nearly perfectly pure, the pits naturally over time get polluted, with the dirt and sediment that falls in, and with the various amounts of bodily parts and fluids that are dipped in it.
But the trace amounts Bruce was finding were a better quality than Ra's own personal pool, not the one he dips in to regain his youth that the LOA make a ritual out of, no the privet one in the Alps that was clear as glacial water.
It didn't make any sense to Bruce, who would be spreading Lazarus water around? Ra's would not simply share his secret pure stash...
Lost in thought, Bruce sat back glaring at the test results.
---
"And after I thought I was giving great service, they fucking left, no bill, no tip! I didn't even get to see Nightwings ass as he left! People say it's a godly experience! I was robbed!" Letting out a huff Danny shot Sam an incredulous look at her sudden burst of laughter. "Sa~am, this isn't funny! Never meet your heroes! I am taking this to Twitter! They shall know my fury!" His words only served to make Sam laugh even harder.
Stifling a grin Danny took out hos phone, a old busted thing that was more ducktape and prayers than actual technology, but dear go's did it still work.
<@i-haunt-spirit-holloween
[@.realwing @not-that-red-robin.real yall are toxic twinks came in to my workplace and fucking dined and dashed 0/10 Nightwing has a flat ass.]
Hitting send, Danny put his phone down, choosing to let the nights happenings go past his mind and just hang out with Sam before showering and finally going to bed.
---
Tim was hunched over his lap top, going frame by frame of his body cam footage, he *needed* to figure this out, it was like an itch in his brain that he would go through bone to get through.
His work payed off as he clicked forward another time, his feed went static before it showed a blurry blue blob in place of the diner! Proof! It was there!
Jumping at the sudden bang of his bedroom door being thrown open, Tim whirled to around to see Dicks distressed face, standing up, Tim prepared for the worst, something happened. Bruce was dead agian it had to be-
"TIMMY I AM A TWINK AM I??" Was Dicks wail as he flopped down on Tim's bed.
Letting out a shuddering sigh, Tim looked longingly at his laptop before closing it, "Dick, what the fuck."
Rolling around on the bed, Dick finally looked up at Tim "Littlewing sent me a tweet and...ugh just look!" Thrusting out his phone as he spoke
Pasuing at the mention of Jason, Tim  looked down at the screen and froze
"Holy shit...we forgot to pay didn't we...fuck Jason is never going to let us live that down."
Tim still remembered the first time he witnessed one of Jason's famous "make Bruce spend more money" rants about tipping.
It was glorious.
Tim now realized he would be one of two that was likely going to have to face it next.
"UGH?? You focus on the money and not the other parts? Tim I was called a toxic twink with no ass! This is a declaration of war! I have never been so offended!" Dick sat up, eyes narrowd while Tim opened up the tweet on his own phone.
"The comments agree Dick, I am sorry, you now have a flat ass congrats and welcome to the club" Tim said dryly, trying to go to the posters page, since it was clearly Danny who posted it.
Only the app crashed when he tried to. And again when he tried to a second time, and his web browser crashed when he tried opening it there
Tim was baffled on what was happening while Dick lemented on his bed before deciding to hack it later.
<@not-that-red-robin.real
[@i-haunt-spirit-holloween super sorry about that send me venmo and I'll pay with tip]
<@i-haunt-spirit-holloween
[@not-that-red-robin.real Fuck that face me like a coward bitch bet you wont]
<@not-that-red-robin.real
[@i-haunt-spirit-holloween...bet]
---
Somewhere in a safe house in Crime Ally, Jason let out a little giggled as he scrolled through the comments on the funniest post he had found in a while, Jason was surely going to have to speak to Timberly and Dickiebird about paying their bills but right now?
He was kicking his feet watching Dick have a public meltdown as Nightwing.
Finally, he wouldn't be the only one who had to retake the Bat Media course.
How was he supposed to know doing peace signs next to a person he just shot wasn't allowed?
1K notes · View notes
gubsbuubs · 5 months
Text
I hate it when you're right
(18+)
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Pairing: Jake Peralta x Female!Reader
Warnings: Friends to lovers; LOTS of teasing, slow burn?, Smut; Creampie; Dirty talk.
Request:Could you do a Jake Peralta x Reader work partners to hookup? Like they’ve been work partners forever, until one night way too late at the bar they hook up? And realize “oh fuck maybe i do like him like that?”
A/N: Hi, my loves! I´m not dead I swear. Here's the first Peralta smut, hope everyone enjoys. 🍒
English is not my first language - My requests are open!
"How much longer is this going to take?" Peralta's agitated voice echoed through the dark alley as he paced back and forth, his restless energy practically bouncing off the walls.
I understood his frustration; we'd been waiting for what felt like hours, when in reality, it had only been about forty minutes. Compared to the nearby street, this alley was dark and dank; graffiti adorned the walls, and the air smelled faintly of waste. At the end of it stood an abandoned store, rumored to be a hotspot for illegal drug deals. After receiving a tip earlier this nigth, we had been staking out the area in hopes of catching distributors. Slowly, I watched as Peralta's impatience grew, and I couldn't help but wonder if our tip had just been a false lead.
Amidst the distant sounds of traffic and the faint hum of the city, Jake's distressed movements seemed amplified; every passing car and footstep only seemed to fuel his uneasiness. Honestly, I couldn't blame him; this place gave off major creepy vibes, but we had a job to do, and that meant keeping our cool and waiting for the right person to arrive.
"Hey, take a breather," I suggested, attempting to soothe his nervous demeanor. "You're coming off a bit suspicious."
He halted in his tracks, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that. I just can't stand waiting, you know?"
"I understand, but we really need to keep it together," I stressed, aiming to ease his tension. "Can you just stand there and act normal?"
"I'm tryiiiiiiing," his voice tinged with a hint of whining as he continued pacing.
"Well, try harder," I urged, "You look like a total cop right now."
His pacing halted abruptly, and he turned to me with wide eyes, a look of realization dawning on his face. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," he muttered frantically. "We look like cops, and we´re getting shot in the face."
"Relax, Peralta," I chuckled, trying to inject some levity into the situation.
"Y/n" He sighed deeply, standing in front of me with his hands in his pockets,"I don't want to get shot; my face is my prized possession." His brow furrowed as he confessed dramatically.
I tilted my head, "Come on, Peralta," I quipped, a playful grin tugging at the corners of my lips. "If you get shot, I think your face would be the least of our concerns. I mean, you'd be dead!"
"Man, I should've prepared a character for a cover-up," Jake exclaimed, shaking his head ruefully. "We can't just stand here looking like this... like cops."
"Well, it's a little late for that now,"
He let out an exaggerated sigh, crossing his arms in frustration. "Let me think of something," he declared, his hand moving to his chin and rubbing it thoughtfully as he pondered our predicament.
I couldn't help but chuckle softly as I glanced around at the dimly lit street nearby, feeling the tension slowly dissipate as Jake's panicked expression softened into one of contemplation.
But then, with a sudden clarity, Jake snapped his fingers, "I've got it!" he exclaimed.
His words were accompanied by his familiar, stupid, and playful smirk. It was a look that spelled trouble, and to be honest, although I knew nothing good would come out of his mouth, I couldn't help but feel intrigued.
"Spill it, Peralta," I said, my hands tucked into my jean pockets, adopting a casual stance as I awaited his response. With Jake, you never quite knew what you were going to get, but you could always count on it being entertaining, if nothing else.
"You see, Y/n," he approached slowly, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as his left hand found its place against the wall behind me, anchoring me as he leaned in. "I was thinking..." he trailed off, his tone dripping with exaggerated suspense.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes playfully at his teasing manner. "Oh, here we go again," I retorted gently, halting his advances with a hand on his chest. "Another one of Jake's brilliant ideas, right?"
"Come on, Y/N, don't be like that," he said, his tone a mix of amusement and pleading. "You know you love my brilliant ideas."
"Oh, absolutely," I replied with a touch of sarcasm. "They're right up there with 'let's infiltrate this wedding' and 'let's dress up as clowns for the undercover operation.'"
"Hey, those are classic moments in my detective history," he protested, a grin spreading across his face. "One day they'll make a movie about me."
I couldn't resist lightly patting his chest. "Sure, buddy, for sure."
As Jake leaned in closer, I couldn't deny the surge of warmth that spread through me. Despite my attempts to conceal it, his proximity was starting to affect me.
Jake and I had a playful dynamic, often flirting with each other, and he wasn't shy about expressing his interest; he even told me countless times how I was "missing out" on a chance to be with him.
And don´t get me wrong, while I did find him undeniably attractive, I was hesitant to entertain the idea of taking things beyond friendship. Our coworker-turned-friend relationship was something I cherished, and I didn't want to risk complicating it with romantic entanglements.
So, no, nothing ever happened apart from the casual, harmless flirting. Our banter kept things light and enjoyable, never crossing the line into anything more serious. Despite the occasional temptation, we both understood the importance of maintaining boundaries in our friendship.
"Seriously, hear me out on this one," he continued, "What if we… I don't know… pretend to make out? It's the perfect cover-up!" His suggestion hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence as we both processed the absurdity of his idea. His head fell to the side, awaiting my response with a playful smirk dancing on his lips.
"You wish, Peralta." I laughed and shook my head. "I mean, I know you'd do anything to steal a kiss from me, but making out in a dark alley? That's a bit too romantic even for you, don't you think?"
"Hey, it was worth a shot, right?" As he moved to step away from the wall, I caught movement at the beginning of the street behind him. Acting quickly, I grabbed him by the tie, the one he always refused to wear, and shot him a warning look. Understanding my silent cue, he lowered his head to mine, trying to appear inconspicuous as he whispered in my ear. "Is it them?"
"Maybe," I quietly answered, my heart pounding as I realized we were being watched. The figures stood at the beginning of the street, whispering to each other; they wore on to us for sure.
"Oh my god, they know, don't they?" he whispered, his voice tinged with worry. "What do we do, Y/L/N? I don't want to get shot in the face," he pleaded, his panic palpable.
Fuck I hate when he's right...
"Screw it," I whispered, my voice filled with determination. Pulling him closer, I crashed my lips into his. He immediately reacted, his arms encircling my waist as he pinned me against the wall. His lips were softer than I imagined, but his hands were rough as they traveled up my sides to rest on the back of my neck, pulling me even closer. Although the kiss was a desperate attempt to obfuscate the approaching perps, it was evident that Jake was definitely enjoying it more than it was intended. I couldn't help but give in to the moment as our kiss intensified as his tongue traced over my lower lip, kindly begging for more.
The footsteps grew louder, signaling the approach of whoever was out there. Without a second thought, his hand found its place on the back of my thigh, pulling me in closer. With my leg lifted around him, our bodies pressed together, and his fingers lightly held me in place.
Abruptly, the footsteps ceased and a voice cut through the moment. "Hey, what are you guys doing here?" one of the men asked, his tone cautious.
Jake broke the kiss. "Do you mind?" He retorted sharply, giving the guy a pointed look, before catching my lips again. I eagerly responded, letting my hands tangle up in his hair as he leaned closer to me.
The two guys just chuckled and exchanged knowing glances before sauntering off to the end of the alley. It worked; the stupid plan actually worked.
I waited until the footsteps were barely audible before breaking the kiss. I raised my head to get a better look, and Jake let his lips travel, leaving warm, open-mouthed kisses down my chin and into my neck. I bit my lip as I suppressed a moan I knew I was holding, glancing to see the two figures waiting by the door. "Jake, they're just standing there." I breathed out.
"Keep your eyes on them," he ordered, as he pressed himself against me.
I fought to keep my focus, torn between the intoxicating sensation of Jake's lips on me and the need to maintain our cover. Despite the overwhelming desire to lose myself in the moment, I stole quick glances towards where the perps stood, ensuring we weren't drawing any unwanted attention.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a new figure emerged, a brown bag in hand, joining the other two with a casual greeting. My heart pounded in my chest; it was going down, and we were going to get these guys. "Jake... Jake," I whispered urgently, breaking our embrace. His eyes met mine, and he immediately understood. Without hesitation, we sprang into action, charging towards the unsuspecting trio.
"NYPD!" Jake's voice boomed, cutting through the tense silence with commanding authority as he brandished his gun. I followed suit, drawing my own weapon, the weight of it familiar and reassuring in my hand. The perps froze, their faces registering shock as they realized they had been caught red-handed.
—xx—
It had been a few days since that night in the alley. With the intel we extracted from the three guys Jake and I caught, we successfully dismantled one of the biggest drug operations in Brooklyn. And to top it off, we managed to nab the ringleader himself. It was a major win for the team and definitely a cause for celebration. So naturally, we found ourselves at Shaw's, ready to toast to our victory.
"To the Nine-Nine," Captain Holt's voice resounded with strength as he lifted his glass high in the center of our circle. "To the Nine-Nine," we all echoed, raising ours in unison. With cheers and the clinking of half-empty glasses, we celebrated our hard work.
"Now disperse," he announced, his tone carrying a hint of warmth. "I want you all to have fun tonight; you deserve it." and with a wave of his hand, he indicated for us to move from our celebratory circle, encouraging us to enjoy the rest of the evening.
With that, I abruptly turned to face the bar, my attention drawn to the array of bottles lining the shelves. Caught off guard by a sudden collision, I stumbled backward, my balance momentarily disrupted. As I blinked in surprise, I found myself locking eyes with Jake, his hands reaching out to steady me by the waist. A rush of warmth flooded through me at the contact, and for a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as our gazes lingered.
"Whoa, sorry about that," I mumbled, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as embarrassment washed over me.
His expression turned sheepish as he offered a tentative smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine warmth. After a brief moment of silence, he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey, no worries," he said lightly, a hint of amusement lacing his tone. Raising a hand, he scratched the back of his neck in a self-conscious gesture. "Guess I should've watched where I was going, huh?"
Our eyes remained locked, neither of us willing to be the first to look or moove away. "Well, at least we're not in an alley this time," I blurted out, trying to break the awkwardness with a touch of humor. He chuckled softly, the tension between us easing slightly as we both shared a small laugh.
"Dark alley or not, this was a great case," he said, his tone softening as he spoke. "I loved working with you, and I think we did a great job." His sincerity warmed my heart, and his light squeeze on my side felt like a silent reassurance.
Taking a step back, I broke away from his hold, trying to compose myself. My heart raced with the sudden rush of emotions. "Well... um..." I stammered nervously, my mind scrambling for something coherent to say. "I think we should celebrate. I'll be with Rosa at the bar," I continued, my voice wavering slightly as I awkwardly backed away from where we stood. "I'll see you around, Peralta."
As I approached the bar, Rosa's amused expression was already evident. Her playful tone cut through the air as I settled onto the bar stool beside her.
"What the hell was that?" she quipped.
I offered a weak shrug, attempting to play it cool. "What was what?" my voice slightly shaking as I avoided her knowing gaze.
"Oh, come on," she teased, gesturing toward the table behind her where Peralta and Charles were now seated. "That little dance back there, the eyefucking," she continued.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, no eyes were fucking back there!" I held my finger up in protest, trying to suppress a nervous laugh.
She sighed and took a sip of her drink, her gaze thoughtful. "Man, what the hell happened on the stakeout? You guys have been so weird…the glances, the lingering touches..."
"Hey, we have been doing none of that," I lied, attempting to deflect Rosa's probing with a forced casualness. Deep down, I knew she wasn't the only one who noticed. Despite being preoccupied with the bust operation for the past few days, I couldn't ignore the subtle shifts in Jake's behavior around me. He looked at me more often than usual, sat closer, and his touches lingered longer. I understood it all too well. I wasn't oblivious. We shared a kiss, and it wasn't just any kiss. There was something there—something I couldn't shake off.
"Bullshit," she retorted, "I mean, I understand tuning Boyle out when he talks, but Jake is literally not listening to a single word."
I glanced from my drink to the booth where Jake sat, slumped against the leather cushions with his legs spread out. He appeared relaxed, toying with his whisley glass that sat on his thigh. His gaze was already on me, peeking through his lowered eyebrows.
Our eyes met, and in that moment, I found myself unable to look away from him, captivated by the intensity of his gaze. What the hell was this man doing to me? It was as if every fiber of my being was drawn to him, despite my best efforts to resist.
"See, you're doing it again!" Rosa exclaimed loudly, her voice cutting through the chatter of the bar.
I immediately shook my head, laughing nervously. "Oh my god! Doing what, Diaz?" I turned toward the bar, signaling for another round of drinks, hoping to distract both of us from the uncomfortable topic.
She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she leaned in closer. "The. Eye. Fucking," she punctuated each word.
"Rosa! No!" I exclaimed, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "No eyefucking going on," I added quickly, hoping to put an end to the teasing before it went any further.
"I know you kissed him," she said casually, her tone soft but firm, leaving no room for denial.
"What? No, that's not true!" My voice probably went up an octave, betraying my attempt at denial.
Rosa didn't waver, analyzing my reaction with a knowing look that seemed to cut straight through me.
"Fuck," I shook my head, looking to the side in resignation. "Okay, fine, I did, but it was only for the mission," I admitted reluctantly.
She chuckled, shaking her head. "Sure, sure, just for the mission."
"Oh, shut up," I lightly smacked her arm, playfully annoyed. "Who told you anyway?"
"Let's just say I have my sources,", a sly smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"Diaz!" I threatened, pointing my finger at her. "Spill it now or else!" My tone was half-joking, but there was a hint of determination in my eyes.
"Okay, okay," she conceded, raising her hands in defense. "It was Boyle."
"Boyle knows?" My eyes widened with shock. If Boyle knew, then everyone knew.
"Yeah, apparently Jake was glowing," she confirmed, "All smiles, couldn't stop grinning like a kid in a candy store." She took another sip of her drink, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "So Boyle insisted, and eventually, he spilled the beans."
"Man, that's so embarrassing," I groaned, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks as I buried my face in my hands.
"Why?" Rosa regarded me with a serious expression.
"Well, because, you know... it's Jake," I mumbled, struggling to find the right words. "I don't want to... to..."
She held knowing look in her eyes, like she could read my thoughts, "To what?"
"Well, you know... be with him... I don't want that," Despite my attempt at denial, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I wasn't convincing anyone, not even myself, that I didn't want Jake.
"Man, it's obvious you guys want to be with each other; just go for it," she said with a shrug, her tone matter-of-fact. "I mean, he's still eyefucking you across the room," she added, gesturing once again in Jake's direction, her point crystal clear.
"He is, isn't he?" I lightly smacked my forehead, as if to hide my face, letting out a chuckle. I felt a sense of relief wash over me; deep down, I knew she had a point.
Glancing over to Jake, it seemed like he hadn't moved an inch since I last looked at him.
"He's not the most subtle," she said, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
I pondered for a moment as I swirled my drink. Well, if Jake was willing to put himself out there to show his interest so openly, then maybe I should do the same. Maybe it was time to stop dancing around each other and just go for it.
"I have to fuck him, don't I?" I quipped with a smile, my voice low and filled with a hint of mischief.
Rosa burst into laughter at my bold declaration, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "Well, you don't have to, you know?" she replied between giggles, shaking her head at my blunt honesty.
I finished my drink and set the glass down with a determined nod. "I think I do," I admitted, my voice firm and resolute.
Rosa grinned approvingly. "That's my girl," she said with a proud nod.
"See you tomorrow, Diaz!" I said, giving her shoulder a friendly pat as I left the stool and made my way towards his table.
As I approached, Jake supported a knowing smile, his gaze unwavering from mine, completely focused on me, completely tuning out the random story Boyle was spewing about.
"Hey guys," I announced as I reached the table, "I'm not feeling really well," I admitted, but my tone lacked any hint of tiredness or distress making Jake's eyebrows perk up at my unconvincing excuse. "So I'll just head home, I think I can still catch the last train." It was a statement crafted with a specific purpose in mind—a subtle cue for Jake to follow me. So, I waited for the response I knew was coming, and Jake didn't disappoint.
Quickly drowning his drink, he stood up from his seat. 'No, no, train, come on!' His fingers motioned in an approaching gesture. 'I'll take you home.'"
"Oh…But!" Boyle exclaimed, "But you said you'd take me home…"
We stood in silence for a moment and watched as Boyle's expression shifted from confusion to realization in an instant. Standing up from his seat, he enveloped Jake in a bear hug, practically lifting him off the ground in his excitement. "You know what? It´s a great night! I guess I'll take a stroll along the river," he exclaimed cheerfully, patting Jake on the back before waving us goodbye.
The car ride had been silent so far, the only sounds filling the air were the gentle hum of the engine and the soft background music playing from the radio. Despite the lack of conversation, I couldn't shake the feeling of Jake's eyes on me, his scrutiny palpable, and I was keenly aware of the warmth creeping up my neck. Glancing over, I found Jake stealing glances in my direction, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Eyes on the road, Detective," I said, my finger lightly pushing his chin in the direction of the road, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
His grin widened, but he quickly turned his attention back to the task at hand, his fingers tapping lightly on the weel. "So, you weren't feeling well, huh?" Jake quipped, "Must be that sudden wave of 'I-can't-resist-Jake syndrome,' huh?"
Raising an eyebrow, I turned in my seat to face him slightly. "Oh, you think you're so funny, don't you?"
"It's a burden, really," he added with an exaggerated sigh. "Having to be this funny all the time,"
"Sometimes I wonder if you're compensating for something with all that humor."
"Oh, please, like you're not secretly enjoying every moment of it." He let his head fall back sligthy as he let out a troathy chuckle. "I couldn't help but notice how your eyes kept wandering over to me tonight. Got a little crush, Y/n?"
"Please, Peralta, don't flatter yourself. I was just admiring the artwork on the walls" I remarked with a sly smile as I leaned closer, my arm resting behind his seat and my breath brushing against his cheek. "You, on the other hand, were really pushing it out there. I mean, could you have been more obvious?"
"Oh, come on," he glanced over at me. "You can't fool me with that excuse. I know you were totally checking me out."
"Maybe…" I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper, a playful glint in my eyes.
"Of course you were," he replied, his hand moving from the steering wheel to rest lightly on my thigh. "And can you blame yourself? Of course not. I mean, look at me."
"Please, Peralta, you're not that irresistible." I scoffed while looking down at his hand, trying to maintain my composure despite the growing warmth between my legs.
"Oh, I beg to differ," he murmured as his fingers now traced gentle circles on my thigh, "Admit it, Y/N. You've been dying for me to touch you like this."
My breath caught in my throat, and I simply let out a chuckle as I slumped back against my seat. "You're trouble, you know that?" I shook my head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in my tone, as I let my gaze drift out the window.The familiar facade of my building stood tall against the city skyline as the car gently came to a stop.
"Yeah, guilty as charged," he murmured as we stepped out onto the sidewalk.
With a coy smile, I glanced back over my shoulder. "You know that if you're guilty of something, you shouldn't be confessing your crimes to a cop."
"Well, lucky for me, Detective, you've been off the clock for..." He glanced at his watch as he trailed closely behind me, "...3 hours and 38 minutes now.
"I might be off the clock, but I can still cuff you, Peralta," I said, tapping the handcuffs at my waist.
As I turned the key and my fingers fumbled with the locks I heard him inching closer. I could feel the warmth of his body as he pressed against my back, with gentle precision, he lowered his head, and I felt his breath grazing the nape of my neck.
"Me, in cuffs, at your mercy?" His lips brushed against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Oh, but wouldn't that be the highlight of your night?" His voice was low and filled with playful suggestion.
With a soft laugh, I finally managed to open the door, turning to face him, my heart pounding with anticipation. "Are you projecting, Peralta?" I countered as I met his gaze, slowly backing away, inviting him in as he approached me at the entryway.
He quickly stepped in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The room felt suddenly smaller, warmer, with just the two of us. As he reached me, he circled his arms around my waist, pulling me closer "Mehh, maybe just a little,". His fingers deftly undid the zipper of my leather jacket, and his eyes didn't tear away from my chest.
"Like what you see, Peralta?" I quipped, letting my hands meet his own on his chest.
"Yeah," he chuckled as he leaned in to press a kiss on my collarbone. "You changed your curtains, didn't you?" He added playfully, his breath warm against my skin.
"Oh yeah?" I slowly started undoing the buttons on his shirt. "I can't believe you´d noticed that."
As we reached the sofa, his hands guided my jacket off, the leather slipping down my arms with a subtle force. Our eyes remained locked as the leather pooled at my feet.
I gestured with a tilt of my head for him to take a seat, and with grin he complied, his fingers skillfully undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt. I couldn't help but admire the way his muscles flexed under the fabric as he discarded it to the side. Then he eased onto the sofa, spreading his legs and letting his arms rest casually on the back of it, lightly tilting his head back.
As I removed my pants, he drew in a deep breath, his gaze unwaveringly fixed on me. Straddling him, I rested my hands on his shoulders, sensing his firm grip on the back of my thighs for stability. With my knees on either side of him, I gradually eased myself onto his lap, the heat of his chest pressing against mine, still covered by the random top I threw on this morning.
"No perps today?" he joked, his hands settling on my ass while his nose lightly brushed against my chest, inhaling my scent. "I kind of enjoyed the audience."
I shook my head as I leaned down to grab his chin, urging him to meet my gaze. "Just you and me, Jake," I murmured against his lips. "What do you think?"
"Well, Y/n," he whispered, "I think you should really kiss me."
"Yeah, I should," I nodded, but just as our lips were about to meet, I pulled back slightly. "Or maybe I'll just leave you hanging," I teased as I leaned back, keeping him at arm's length.
Jake's eyes widened in surprise. "You're playing dirty now, huh?" His hands cupped my flesh forcefully as he pulled me forward, spreading my cheeks slightly and pressing me against him. The sudden movement elicited a gasp from my lips, feeling the subtle grind of his crotch against mine. A soft moan escaped me as I surrendered to the satisfying friction rocking my hips against his bulge.
"Maybe," I teased once again, leaning in close before pulling back again. I intensified the grind of my hips as his hands moved to my shoulders, sliding the straps of my top down, the fabric gathering around my stomach, exposing more of my skin to his hungry gaze.
"You're killing me here," he protested as his fingers traced the delicate lacy edges of my bra.
"Oh, but where's the fun in making it easy for you?"
As his head fell back against the sofa, a deep exhale escaped him, a mix of frustration and pleasure. Seizing the opportunity, I pressed my lips against his neck, relishing the shudder that ran through him, accompanied by a low sigh of pleasure. My hand lightly closed against his throat, keeping him in place as I continued to kiss upward, tracing the line of his jaw with eager lips.
"You're driving me insane," he growled, his voice thick with need. Grabbing me by the nape of my neck, he pulled me into a kiss.
As our bodies pressed together, he skillfully unclasped my bra, freeing my breasts to his eager touch. His mouth descended upon my right nipple, and as he sucked and nibbled, I couldn't help but grind against him with more force.
I tugged on the hairs at the back of his head, urging him closer, craving more of his touch. His fingers trailed down my abdomen, teasing the hem of my panties before boldly slipping beneath them.
I gasped as his cold fingers met my warm skin. "Fuck, Jake," I breathed out, my voice trembling with desire.
"Oh, my name sounds so good when you say it like that," he confessed, his fingers moving slowly against my clit. My head rested on his shoulder, and his fingers continued to explore my soaked folds, "Yeah, just like that, doing so well," he praised as he lightly brushed my entrance, slowly dipping his middle finger inside of me.
With a desperate urgency, I moved my hands to his sides, tugging at the belt loops of his jeans. "Off, off," I managed to say.
He nudged his hips forward, lowering his jeans and boxers just enough for his cock to spring out. I immediately took him in my hand, stroking him lightly as a pornographic moan escaped his lips.
His hand then moved my panties to the side, allowing me to guide him against my clit before lining him with my entrance. Slowly, I lowered myself on to him, feeling every inch of him stretching me as he filled me completely.
His right hand met the back of my neck once again, pulling me into a kiss, as his left cupped my ass with force, aiding me with the up and down movement of my hips.
God, you feel incredible," he groaned against my lips, his voice husky with desire.
With a breathless laugh, I whispered back, "You're not so bad yourself."
A playful chuckle escaped him "Always got something to say, don't you?" He teased, his hips rising to meet mine with eager intensity.
My head fell back, overcome with pleasure, as the familiar coil of ecstasy began to build in the depths of my stomach. "Fuck, don´t stop.". His movements remained steady, his hand reaching out to play with my clit, intensifying the pleasure coursing through my body. "God, Jake... it's... it's too much," I gasped, desperation evident in my voice as my hands clung to his shoulders and arms for support.
"Oh, I can't fucking last with you sounding like that," he admitted, letting his forehead rest against mine.
"Then don't," I whispered, my voice barely audible amidst the sounds of our heavy breathing and the pounding of flesh. His pace quickened, pushing me closer as I arched my back. "I´m cumming.. Oh.. Fuck"
A moan escaped his lips as he watched me with intensity, his eyes tracing every contortion of my face as pleasure surged through me. I felt the wave of bliss crash over me, my body trembling with the force of my release.
In that moment, I could tell he couldn't hold back any longer. "Do it," I urged, locking my gaze with his and giving him a reassuring look.
"You sure?" His eyes searched mine, seeking reassurance.
I nI nodded eagerly, feeling my body tremble as I sensed him pulsating inside of me. The sensation of him nearing his climax, his moans reverberating through the room, was intoxicating and overwhelming in the most delicious way imaginable. As he released into me, I let out a satisfied sigh, capturing his lips once again.
We remained intertwined, his arms wrapped around me protectively, as his cock still throbbed gently inside me. His fingers traced soothing patterns on the small of my back, and I nestled closer to him as his lips found their way to my forehead, planting a tender kiss.
"You know? I hate when you´re right," I whispered, my voice soft against his skin.
"About what in particular?" He chuckled.
I smiled against his neck, feeling a warmth spread through me. "About... this," I confessed, lifting my head slightly to meet his gaze. "That I'd been missing out."
"Well, lucky for you, Y/n, we still have plenty of time to catch up,"
--XX--
Tagg: Hi my loves, I took the liberty to tagg everyone who liked my post about writing smut for peralta - Hope you enjoy <3
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