#skull complains!!! why does he get all this!?!? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joonberriess · 1 year ago

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teeth. ☆ j.jk

⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting

⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k

⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆

“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”

The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.

You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.

Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.

“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”

Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.

“What number is this?”

“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”

“I don’t know.”

You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.

You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”

You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.

“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”

You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.

“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.

You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.

“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.

You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.

“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.

You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.

“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”

“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”

“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”

You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.

He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.

You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.

The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.

“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.

The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.

“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.

He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.

You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.

“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.

You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.

You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.

He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.

You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.

He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.

“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.

“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.

A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.

He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.

“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.

Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.

You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.

There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.

“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.

“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.

A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.

He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”

You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.

He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.

You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.

From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.

“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.

You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.

“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.

His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.

“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.

He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.

When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.

“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.

“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.

Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.

“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.

A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.

“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”

You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.

“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.

You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.

He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.

You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.

“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.

You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.

Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.

“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.

“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”

A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111

[halloween m.list]

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

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mywritersmind · 4 months ago

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SIX TIMES TOO MANY (OR JUST ENOUGH?) - LN4

summary : in which the universe can’t seem to stop bugging you. six times when people thought of you and lando as more than childhood friends.

listen up : no warnings!! childhood friends! sometimes genuis just strikes🤷🏻‍♀️ requests for kimi franco and lando are open!!

word count : 820

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The first time it happened, you had laughed it off in a drunken haze of excitement.

“You and Lando!” Your best friend squealed, “You two hooked up, didn’t you!?” she hit your arm playfully, the biggest grin on her face as yours mirrored the opposite.

“Lando and I? No way!” You shook your head rapidly just as he danced up to the two of you, a drink in hand.

He spun you around and laughed in your ear and slurring his words as your friend gave a curious look.

The second time was an older woman complimenting you and Lando on the street, saying how lovely of a couple you were. Lando had laughed it off with ease.

The third time was far more embarrassing, a young fan had asked Lando to sign his cap and as he did, the kid grinned at you and whispered, “Don’t worry! I won’t tell anyone you’re in love!” He had skipped away after making your jaw drop.

Why did everyone think you were a couple? It was ridiculous and out of reach. You and Lando had been best friends since childhood, besides your first kiss, nothing had ever happened.

You weren’t blind, he was attractive. You just chose to ignore the way he mindlessly changed in front of you and how his curls fell in his face. You chose to not think about him winning a race, sweaty and exhausted, falling right into your arms as he whispered his thanks to you for just being there.

The fourth time someone mentioned it, it was your own bloody mother. She had liked a photo you sent of your group on vacation, replying with “Oh! You and Lando are just the sweetest. Open your eyes, love.”

It was mortifying, especially in public. It made things odd with Lando, after someone would mention it, he started to act squirmy.

He almost always had some sort of girlfriend, though he claimed he didn’t date.

The fifth time was by far the worst.

“I get it!” Your boyfriend had scoffed in your face, “I’ll always come second to him!” You had such a headache from trying to break things off with him that his last statement might as well have split your skull open.

“Him?”

“Norris! Just admit you’re ending things with me to be with him!” He stood up, paced the room, “I’m such an idiot.”

“What- That’s not the reason!”

“Sure! God Y/n you’ve always been drooling for him!” What the hell?

It was your turn to scoff, “Fuck you! I’m sorry you can’t imagine why anyone would break up with your dumbass but we’re done because I don’t fancy you like you do me! Don’t blame my friend.”

“Sure. ‘Friend’. Go cry to him.”

The sixth was the one to change everything.

“I never realized!” Max Fewtrell laughed with you, drinks in hand and leaning against the bar.

“Realized what?” You raised a brow, sipping your drink.

“Lando’s in love with you!” you almost spit out your drink, “I mean- I always figured he had a hard on for you but shit… he’s totally whipped!”

He’s drunk, you reminded yourself.

“Shut up Max.” It wasn’t funny anymore.

“I’m serious, Y/n!” He shook his head, turning towards Lando who was looking bored with a girl next to him, “He hasn’t gotten with anyone for months! That’s saying something! He talks about you all the time and fuck have you not noticed the way he looks at you?”

The way he looks at you? How could you not notice?

He does it just then, turning his head to face you two but keeping those magnetic eyes on you. His previous bored expression was gone instantly, a smirk gracing his face as his eyes stayed on yours. It practically made your heart skip a beat.

“Oh.” Is all you can manage before Lando looks back to the girl.

“I’m just saying… maybe all those times you complain about- when people think you’re a couple or would be perfect together, maybe they’re a sign.” Max gives you one last knowing look before his spot is replaced with Lando.

He leans against the bar in a lazy fashion, looking tired yet all his energy is focused on you, “Having a good night?” His voice- fuck that voice.

His voice which haunted your nightmares and fuled your fantasies.

“A weird one, definitely.” you laugh but it’s not really funny, Lando gives you a concerned look.

“You wanna leave?” and when he says it, you know he’d come with. You know he’d go anywhere for you.

“No.” You shake your head, looking up at the brunette and feeling your breath ragged and unfocused. You swallow, then smile, “Let’s dance.”

A grin breaks out on his face as you slip your hand in his, “Anything you want, Y/n.”

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando x reader #f1 fic #lando imagine

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sombrashe · 20 days ago

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content dark themes, virginity loss, drug use, america mention

✮⋆˙ namgyu who loves blowjobs

theres just something about a nice warm throat that makes his dick jump in his sweats. and then theres something about your nice warm throat and suddenly hes like a teenager again.

the way he acts when he wants one is borderline annoying. he whines a bunch and gets extra clingy especially when you're busy. he'll place his hand on your knee and kiss your neck ever so softly just getting you riled up.

never gives back. he'll give head when he deems it worthy but beyond the occasional anniversary head you're shit out of luck. you've given up asking for it a while back and honestly it's fine. he does still get you wet he just doesn't use his mouth to get you there.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who has a corruption kink

his dream is to take a virgin and fuck them so good they're ruined for any other dick. he's had a lot of practice by the time he meets you. when you agree to sleep with him is the only time he willing gives head. he needs you to feel safe and secure if he's going to be a permanent fixture in your mind.

he'll watch from the sidelines whenever you're talking to someone at the club. holes burning into the back of your skull leave you stuttering and suddenly unsure of yourself in the conversation. you'll excuse yourself completely unaware why you're acting like this and go back to him with your tail tucked between your legs.

he pesters you to try new things sexually all the time. honestly this man probably has you trying things you were always against. he has such a way with words when it comes to getting you to open up. he'll give you everything you need to get you to say yes even if it means making promises he doesn't plan to keep.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who loves period sex

it's not just the blood that he likes. it's how sensitive your tits are leading up to when your period starts. it's when you're complaining about feeling bloated and how much you're breaking out. it's knowing you're going to be pliant and sensitive the entire time.

this is the only time he actually pits effort into sex. towels down to cover your sheets? done. water and some pain medicine on standby? done. fresh clothes and pad for after your shower sitting on the sink? done. anything to get him to his main goal of getting his dick wet.

his favorite part is how little foreplay he has to do before he can slip it in. he still does of course because he doesn't want to hear your whining. but it takes a lot less time and he loves that. calls your blood natural lube and gets to work rearranging your insides.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who has a pornhub premium account

he's has the same account for years. never comments or donates just saves videos that he watches over and over again. it's filled with american pornstars always speaking filthy english while getting pounded and korean cam girls whispering sweet nothings into the mic as they bounce.

he doesn't give up his porn watching for anyone. instead he'll simply tweak his search engine to better reflect the relationship he's currently in. chubby white girl gets dicked down, black doctor gives her make patient a blowjob, korean cam girls moaning like sluts. he doesn't watch it often when he's in a relationship because he honestly expects sex from his partner at some point pretty early into the relationship.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who's always high during sex

he loves seeing his partners pupils blow wide as he places another tablet on their tongue. drugs only being used because they trust him that much. he always keeps up with them up until they physically have to stop so they don't overdose.

he's always on something and you can normally tell what it is based off his eyes and the way he acts around you. clingy namgyu is because of coke. irritable namgyu is because of heroin. horny namgyu is because of weed. hyper namgyu is because of ecstasy. he's been every which way in front of you and you don't seem to love him any less.

when he fucks it's methodical depending on how fucked up the drug makes him. sometimes he's almost robotic with the way his thrusts are calculated and other times he acts as though he has no bones in his body the way he bends and positions himself to reach deeper.

✮⋆˙ namgyu who's insecure af

he will literally never admit it but he's a very very insecure man. he brags to high heaven about how good he is in bed but deep down he's unsure of himself. whenever you compliment him or his abilities in bed his ego spikes.

he needs constant reassurance in little things like "i love you." "you look handsome today, baby." or "god that was amazing." not overtly reassuring but instead subtle to not get him in his head. he never asks for it so it's up to you to figure it out which in of itself annoying but you do whatever you can for your mans <3

✮⋆˙ namgyu who loves to hear you talk

he's not a talker when it comes to any real aspect of his life. but in bed all you get are heavy breaths and the occasional whine or moan. he chooses his partners on how little they annoy him and how much yapping he can stomach. with you those rules go out the window. the first time you sucked him off you talked so much he had to shove your head down to shut you up.

during sex you love making noises and whine for him. begging is a lot of your talking. please and yes the two words that make up most of your vocabulary. he loves leaving you a babbling mess of cum and spit. when he's doesn't want to listen he'll shove you head into a pillow. it doesn't shut you up just makes everything muffled and it ends up spurring him on further.

#squid game #squid game smut #squid game x reader #squid game x reader smut #nam gyu #nam gyu smut #player 124 #nam gyu x reader #nam gyu x reader smut #thanosworld writes

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reds-hoodies · 2 months ago

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I feel like on icy-cold days Dick would be sure to pull his siblings aside and absolutely smother their faces with Vaseline before heading out. It’s something his mom used to do if they ever stopped somewhere snowy to perform.

But why is he so agressive with it?? It’s like a solid minute and a half of him just smooshing their faces around like he’s kneading dough or something😭

“Gotta make sure every inch of skin is covered!” He’d say.

It has to be a test of their abilities, they all think, because they nearly pass out every time. Dick tries to reshape their fucking skull with the grease and they’re holding their breath because they don’t want to accidentally get it up their nose.

When he was younger, Jason used to sit through it no problem. He’d whine a little at first, but he wouldn’t complain. He honestly was just happy to be doted on by his older brother. Now though, he snatches the tub away from him and applies it himself. Dick tries to get the places he missed, but his hand gets slapped. And then he swipes his hand down the front of Jason’s face and runs away lol

Tim knows this hack but hates the feeling on his face. He stops in his tracks as soon as he spots Dick standing at the door with the Vaseline tub. Should he sprint back up the stairs to his room and hide? It’s tempting… But ultimately he just sighs in defeat and makes his way over to Dick.

He knows if he tries to run away, all that’ll come out of it is a broken chandelier, a torn jacket, and a greasy face. Might as well just get the greasy face without the broken stuff.

He’s learned.

Now Damian, he loves his brother, he does. But there is no way in hell he’s having that petroleum jelly touch his face. Try as he might to get away, bobbing and weaving out of Dicks reach, he always gets snatched up by one of the others (Jason) and is held down as he gets smothered. It’s all “Pthbt pthbt ptthhbhth” because he wouldn’t stop yelling and got some of it in his mouth 😔

He comes out of it looking like a wet, grumpy cat.

Dick is satisfied his brothers are ready for the cold. Shiny faces and all.

#dc #dc robin #batfam #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #damian wayne #Batman #cute #blurb #It’s been getting cold and I’ve been feeling nostalgic🤧🥹#I love mamma bird dick lol #red robin #red hood #nightwing #robin #my writing

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broareweabouttoviberightnow · 29 days ago

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Dallas wrestles Curly to the ground 'n when the little shit doesn't stop fightin', he bites him.

"OW, you asshole!" Curly wriggles around fruitlessly beneath Dallas' bony knees and when he can't get out, he reaches up and grabs for a fistful of Dallas' hair. Dallas sees it comin' 'n dives backwards out of the way, jabbin' Curly in the ribs. Curly uses the opportunity to shove Dallas hard off of him. Dally stumbles back and jumps to his feet, ready for Curly to do somethin' cheap like go for his ankles.

And then Curly does somethin' he's never done. Ever. He stops fightin'.

Dallas hesitates, blinkin' down at Curly starin' holes in the carpet. "C'mon asshole, you're not fakin' me out. I only fall for that shit once."

Curly glares up and Dallas and his eyes are wet and Dallas thinks fuck, if I broke that kid's arm again Tim is going to kill me. For good this time. He's beginning to wonder idly whether he'll bury him under the shed or just leave his ass out in an alley when Curly shoots up.

"Why the fuck aren't you ever like this with Pony?" The shock hits Dallas so hard he drops his fists.

"What?" Curly stares at him hard, hands clenchin' 'n unclenchin' at his side, eyes still shinin' in the low livin' room light.

"You'd never kick the shit out of Pony like you do to me." Oh holy fuckin' hell.

"Yeah, I do." Dallas rolls his eyes, drops down into the Shepard's threadbare couch. It's busted as hell, whatever pattern it may have once had faded 'n ripped 'n stained over the years.

"No, you don't!" Curly's damn near yellin' now but only Dallas glances at the apartment door. Not that the other tenants aren't used to it by now. And it's definitely not like they'd complain.

"Yeah, the hell, I do. I nearly put the kid's head through the wall last week. And Darry damn near cracked my skull for it." Dallas rolls his eyes. He's exaggeratin' a bit but he was damned if he was gonna tell Curly that Darry had lectured him like a kid and made him do the fuckin' dishes.

"Oh, great." Curly tosses his hair out of his eyes in a way that reminds Dallas of the ponys down at Buck's. Or Soda. Same difference. "So you only beat the shit out of me because Tim won't kick your ass for it." Curly stomps his foot and whips around, makin' for the hall.

"Oh my God." Dallas slides off the couch 'n grabs Curly's wrist before he can go far. Curly twists as hard as he can but Dallas holds him tight and the only thing he gets for his troubles is rug burn. "Give me a second before you do the whole run to your room 'n slam the door thing. Tim might be takin' Darry's advice about privacy 'n space 'n all that bull but I'm sure not. 'N I will come after your ass."

Curly stops fightin' 'n opts for scowlin' at Dallas, leanin' so there's as much room between them as possible. "Fuckin' fine."

"Well, I'll tell you somethin' both you 'n Pony have in common." Curly blinks wide, dark eyes at him 'n Dallas rolls his eyes. "You're both fuckin' stupid."

Curly kicks at the carpet 'n Dallas drops his wrist. "Pony's not stupid." Dallas flicks his ear hard 'n Curly yelps 'n socks Dallas in the stomach.

"Yeah, the hell he is. 'N so are you." Curly throws his hands up, makes for the door again. Dallas shoots one foot out 'n Curly comes down hard on the wood floor.

"OW, man, I can't even go to my own room in my own fuckin' house in peace with you around."

"No, you can't 'cause I'm not done talkin', stupid." Dallas crouches down so they're both sprawled in the hall. "I don't beat the shit out of Pony because he's... I dunno. He's softer."

Curly narrows his eyes but doesn't interrupt so Dallas just plows on ahead.

"Curly, you wouldn't allow anyone to do half the shit that the Curtis boys do. Ain't nobody callin' you honey or baby or any of that shit." Curly wrinkles his nose up 'n Dallas raises his eyebrows like that much is obvious. "'N you don't fight like the Curtis'. Last time I broke Steve's arm before the Curtis parents, well whatever, Mr. C nearly put my ass out on the street for good. Last time you broke my ribs we went out for Dairy Queen."

Curly leans back on his hands, stops lookin' wary just long enough to laugh. "God, the one down near the end of The Ribbon? I'm still banned from there, y'know? 'Cause I slammed your head into the voice box thingy."

"Can you shut up for five seconds?" Curly kicks a foot out at him 'n Dallas half-heartedly bats it away. "Pony 'n you are just... different people. Don't mean I like him more or nothin'."

Curly studies him with big eyes 'n Dallas can't help but think they had that shit in common too. Sometimes Pony could make him feel like a pinned spider just bein' picked apart.

"Alright, fine." Curly clambers to his feet, offers his hand to haul Dallas up. Dally takes it, then promptly yanks the kid into a hug. It scares both of them a lil' how Curly melts straight into it.

But then Curly jabs Dallas in the stomach and makes a break for the door and Dallas cackles 'n dives after him.

"Hey, let's go to Dairy Queen." Curly snatches Tim's keys off the table and they both spit into wide, connivin' grins.

"Long as I get to put a dent in Tim's bumper." Curly tosses Dallas the ring and Dallas snatches them out of the air. He grabs a bandaid from the cabinet 'n presses it into Curly's hand as he makes for the door. "For the bite."

"You probably gave me fuckin' rabies or somethin'."

"Yeah, well, it's my way of sayin' love ya kid."

#OUGH!#theyre brothers your honor #they're important to me #in my mind dallas kinda belongs to both the shepard n curtis family #which complicates things some #bc pony can make dallas incredibly soft #which is deeply unsettling to dally #but curly is a rabid little monster #so dallas is two VASTLY different brothers to each of them #which results in a decent amount of frustration for curly #he kinda gets it #but it doesnt stop him from being jealous #he kinda wants to be soft #but he was never taught how to ask for it #theyre figuring it out #painstakingly slowly #but figuring it out none the less #tim shepard #curly shepard #dallas winston #the outsiders #the outsiders 1983 #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #ponyboy curtis #steve randle #my writing #writers on tumblr #i see next to no dallas n curly as brothers content n i think we are missing out on an insane dynamic

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owlwithanapple · 7 days ago

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Life is change

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Y/N 🥰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good. That’s my privilege I want.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh wow~ such a great knight.”

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

“Thanks, my lovely husband.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ha—yes. I’m ready.” You moan softly.

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

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

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

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

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

“You better do it. My lovely husband.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Roger, Lieutenant Ghost.” You salute playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My lovely brother, hand over my daughter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh—fuck—I missed you more—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck—ah—Fuck me now, I can't wait—“

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

“Yes—ah—“ You moan softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The End 🖤♥️

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itsmarsss · 1 month ago

Text

bet. [Blitzø x Reader] (Helluva Boss)

(established relationship, talks about sex, blitz uses the word babygirl but otherwise gender neutral, will probably have a part 2 with the actual smut.)

“Well, that was really fucking awful,” Blitzø states, clearly irritated, as the two of you entered his office, and you already know how this was gonna go.

He was going to say he was annoyed because the double murder you’d all gone off to that morning had spiraled out of control, but when had any of your killings played out as planned? He was actually annoyed about his favorite coat getting partially burnt.

“Fucking Moxxie. Always gotta fuckin’ mess shit up,” he mutters under his breath as he begins undressing, taking the coat off first and examining the burnt fabric before disposing of it carelessly on the floor.

“Will you relax already?” You lean on his desk, crossing your arms over your chest. “We killed more than half our targets for the day and it’s not even noon yet.”

“Yeah well if we all followed the plan it wouldn’t have been such a mess.” His bow tie was the next to go.

“Blitz? I love you.”

He looks up at you, an unamused look in his face, stopping midway through sliding his suspenders off his shoulders. “Uh-huh, but what?"

"Why does there have to be a but? Could I not be telling you I love you just because?"

"You could. But I can feel a but in there."

"That's what she said."

He shoots you another unamused look.

“Okay, fine, but we got the job done, didn't we? Regardless of anything that might have happened."

“Oh stop licking their assholes,” he complains with an eyeroll, detaching the red skull charm from the collar of his shirt. “Catch,” he tells you, throwing it in your direction. You place it on the desk and he begins unbuttoning his somehow still pristine white shirt. “You just don’t want me to yell at him.”

“Well yeah? It would be a little hypocritical.”

He stops midway through undoing the buttons. “You saying I fuck up?” He questions, incredulous.

“Yes? All the time. We all do.”

He huffs in annoyance, unable to find a good retort within himself. Other than an ‘oh, fuck off’, of course. He only keeps undressing, taking the shirt completely off.

“Hey, it’s alright to be upset that your coat’s burnt. I know you liked it a lot.”

“What? I’m not ‘upset’ about it,” he air-quotes, mocking your voice with an accent that sounds nothing like yours. “‘S just a stupid fucking coat.”

“Whatever you say, pretty boy,” you extend your hands to take the shirt from him. “Stop leaving your clothes on the floor,” you reprimand, and he rolls his eyes again before collecting the discarded clothing from the floor and throwing it to you. You place everything except the coat on the chair next to you, inspecting the item for a moment. “Hey, it’s not that bad. We can go get it fixed tomorrow. And if they can't fix it I bet we can find another one just like it, we’ll just leave Millie and Mox to handle the morning kills. How ‘bout that?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m taking a shower.”

“I can see that,” you grin, making sure to exaggerate on the once-over you give his shirtless body.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t look at me like that, you know I get horny when I’m mad!”

“What did I do?”

“You just checked me out!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I did not.”

“Yeah you did you conniving witch!”

“Where the fuck did you even learn that word?”

“Honestly I don’t know what it means, but it sounded like it fit.”

“Surprisingly, it kinda does.”

“See? You picked a smart man.” He teases.

“Sure did. A nerd ,even, one might say.”

“Okay, nerd crosses a line.”

You let out a laugh and he unbuttons his pants, pulling the zipper down and taking them off, leaving him only in his ‘honse’ patterned underwear. He leaves the pants on the floor and turns around towards the tiny bathroom connected to his office to take his shower.

“What’d I say about leaving the clothes on the floor?” You call from behind him.

He stops, turning back to look at you. “It’s my office.”

“Doesn’t mean you should just leave stuff on the floor. You wouldn’t be all too pleased if I did the same-“ your voice dies out as you reach the end of your sentence and you purse your lips together, realizing your mistake:

“You’re more than welcome to leave your clothes on my floor right this second if you want to,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows up and down.

“Okay, okay, I walked right into that one. Go take your shower.”

“What? You’re evil, you know that?”

“What the fuck did I do?”

“You got me all hot and bothered now I’m not gonna be able to shower!” He explains, completely serious about it.

“I hardly think you wouldn’t be able to shower just ‘cause you’re a little horny.”

“I’m not a little horny, baby, I’m mega stupid thunder horny right now, c’mon.”

“Please don’t ever use those words together again.”

“Come shower with me,” he asks before he walks up to you, with a fake pout and puppy dog eyes, his hands on each side of you on top of the desk, caging you against it.

One of your hands is instinctively placed over his bare chest, running your fingertips over it. “You know I’d love to, baby, but we both know that shower doesn’t fit both of us,” you laugh at the memory- you’ve tried.

“Stupid fuckin’ tiny-ass shower,” he mumbles under his breath in frustration, eyes glancing at the floor for a moment as he very clearly tries to think of other alternatives. His mischievous grin quickly reappears as he looks back up at you. “Guess I’m just gonna have to fuck you here, then.”

Look, you’ve fucked in his office. That’s no taboo- few things are when it comes to him. You’ve fucked on the couch, you’ve fucked on the floor, against pretty much every wall, against the door, on his chair. You name it, you’ve done it. The only place in there you had yet to deprave was, funnily enough…

“Haven’t fucked you on this desk yet. Wanna try it out?”

"And then we can shower?"

"You still on about the shower thing? I'm trying to have some filthy raunchy passionate sex here."

"Oh silly me, I interrupted, sorry."

"Oh you're acting real funny today, aren't you? So what do you say?"

"Bet."

“Oh, fuck yeah.” His hands travel behind your thighs and he lifts you up into a sitting position on top of the desk behind you. “Gonna fuck you so good everyone outside’s gonna hear you screaming my name.”

“That’s presumptuous.”

“Stop making up words, babe, it ain’t cute,” he complains as wastes no time before placing open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

You roll your eyes at him. “You know what that one means.”

“No fancy words during sex, babygirl, it throws me off my rhythm. And it’s not ‘presumptuous’ if I can deliver, by the way.”

“See you do know what it- shit- what it means. Are you ever going to shut up and deliver, then?”

“Impatient, are we?”

“Yes. Now at least kiss me or I swear to fucking Satan I’ll-“

“Yup, that’ll do, shutting up now.”

#helluva boss #mars writes #blitzø #blitzo x reader #blitz x reader #helluva boss blitz #helluva boss blitzo #blitz helluva boss #blitz imagine #blitzo imagine #blitzø x reader #moxxie helluva boss #millie helluva boss #blurb #fluff #imagine #smut

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some-stars · 2 months ago

Note

logan/wade rough sex with wade crying!!!

okay, so obviously you know the context for this but for everyone else: this is a canon-divergence AU sequel to a fic of mine that I haven't finished yet. all you need to know is that Logan and Wade hooked up during Origins, fell for each other and ran off together, and also they are both fucked up but wade is very fucked up.

content notes: consensual sex but it's fucked up, face slapping, painful sex, possessiveness, masochism, praise, spit, kind of sweet despite all that. i'm high so i might have forgotten something, read at your own risk. i don't think i did tho!

The only thing that stops Logan from slamming Wade up against the wall the second the last body drops is the urgent need for them to get clear of the scene before the cops show up. As it is, they make it about half a mile before he snaps and drags Wade down an alley, the simmering anger in his skull boiling over at the way Wade laughs when he does it. It's clear Wade's still riding the high from the fight, and when his back hits the bricks he grins like crazy.

"All that killing got you so hot and bothered, huh, cupcake?" He bats his eyelashes like a goddamn cartoon. "You just can't wait till we get home to take it out on me? I'm not complaining, I love a nice nasty back alley fuck. Something about getting reamed five feet from a dumpster really tickles the old pickle."

Logan would love to be able to say that his hand moves without him meaning to move it, that he slaps Wade across the face on a blind, furious impulse. But that would be a lie. He chooses to do it.

He kisses Wade right after, because the flash of hurt and fear that crosses his face is too much to look at. Too much to think about, how right it feels to put it there. Wade melts into the kiss just like he always does, permanently desperate for affection no matter how much of it Logan gives him. Logan holds his face with one hand--the side he hit, hot and flushed with blood--and kisses Wade like he's claiming him, deep and demanding. When Logan takes his lower lip between his teeth Wade tenses and whimpers, anticipating pain, but Logan doesn't break the skin. He's already smelled enough of Wade's blood tonight, enough for a fucking lifetime.

He pulls back just enough to look Wade in the eye. "What the fuck were you thinking back there?"

The slap shook him but he’s already recovering, raising his eyebrows and starting to smirk. "Well, you know how it is when that battle haze comes over you. It’s all just flow state and instinct. And a dash of horny, once things really get going--"

Logan gives him a shake, maybe harder than he means to. It shuts him up, though, so maybe just hard enough. "You still don’t give a shit if you get killed," he says, low and dangerous. "Is that why you wanted to get into this mercenary gig? You got bored of not nearly fucking dying all the time?"

"I didn’t--"

"You got shot!"

"Grazed," Wade snaps, starting to struggle against Logan’s bruising grip. "I got lightly grazed, all those guys had terrible aim, it doesn’t even hurt anymore--"

This time when Logan kisses him he can't make himself hold back. The taste of blood sizzles on his tongue like lightning, sweet and hot, and the high hurt noise his teeth tear from Wade makes it hard to find any regret.

"You don't get to do that shit anymore," Logan growls. "You don't get to throw away what's mine."

It slides home as smooth as a skeleton key, unlocking Wade like he knew it would. His hips jerk forward and his head falls back against the bricks, already babbling an apology as he offers up his throat. Logan rewards him with a hand fisted tight in his hair to pull his head back even farther, and sharp teeth clamped down hard around the thick cord of muscle that runs from neck to shoulder. Not tearing him open, now, because he doesn't want that. He doesn't even want the blood, really, not when he's in his right mind. It's just that Wade still wants so badly to give it to him.

Logan hurts him like that until the apologies turn into begging, until his cock is as hard as Wade's where they're grinding together. "Please," Wade repeats, choked and thick.

"Yeah? You want something?" Logan kisses him again before he can answer, just long enough to feel Wade open up for him. It's not enough, though. Three fingers in his mouth feels closer to what he wants, and Wade sucks on them gratefully, moaning. Like any way Logan wants to be inside him is the best thing he's ever felt. He doesn't close his eyes, either, even though Logan knows he wants to, how hard it is for Wade to let Logan watch him like this. But Logan asked him for it, once. Before he knew just how careful he had to be about asking Wade to give him things.

"You want me to show you how you're mine?" Logan asks, and Wade nods and mumbles around the fingers in his mouth, incoherent and desperately affirmative. Logan pulls his fingers out and wipes them on Wade's cheek, leaving a thick smear of wet that glitters in the faint, distant glow of the streetlights. Wade shivers, finally squeezing his eyes shut, but offers no other protest.

(Not that he would. Logan's seen him come from being spat on, which was so nightmarishly arousing to watch that he hasn't tried it again since.)

When Wade had finally realized Logan was serious about refusing to fuck him dry, he'd become obsessive about stashing lube everywhere, including the pockets of his work clothes. Logan fishes the packet out now, and when Wade realizes what he's reaching for he almost trips over his own feet turning around so fast. With his cheek pressed to the wall, eyes closed, back arched to present himself, he looks ripped from the kind of magazine that gets sold in brown paper wrapping. The kind you have to ask for, at very specific stores. He looks obscene, and Logan hasn't even gotten his pants down yet.

It's the work of a moment to shove them down around his knees and get his own belt and fly open just enough so he can use the scant handful of lube on himself. Wade shudders at the wet sound, his back curving into an even deeper arch. A cat in heat, desperate to be put down. No matter how sweet Logan is to him it's always this waiting underneath, this shape that other hands bent Wade into long before Logan ever met him.

He loves Wade like this, because there isn't any way he doesn't love Wade; no possible shape of him that Logan wouldn't want exactly this much.

Logan pulls him open and forces his way in too fast, offering not even a breath for Wade's body to welcome him the way it always does, surely would if Logan gave him the chance, but he doesn't and Wade can't entirely swallow the little scream that slips out. His whole back tenses as his body struggles on instinct to get away from what's hurting it, but there's nowhere to go with the wall at his face and Logan boxing him in everywhere else.

Logan leans in close as he settles into a quick hard pace. Already Wade's breathing fast and scared, his hands balled into useless fists, all fear and misery, forgetting why he wanted this so fucking bad.

"You need someone to hurt you," he rasps into Wade's ear, "you don't pull that kind of dumb shit. You come to me."

Another harsh snap of his hips makes Wade's breath hitch. For a moment he goes even more tense and tight beneath Logan, and a trembling little moan slides past his lips. Logan thinks about stopping; doesn't.

"Come on, Wade," he murmurs. He licks the hollow behind Wade's ear. The slick of sweat that dissolves into his tongue tastes like honey. "Be good for me."

More magic words. Wade sobs and the panicky all-over clench of him eases a little, and a few moments later a little more. Logan's next thrust feels more like fucking, less like cruelty. Enough less, at least.

He smells Wade's tears before he sees them. "Good boy," Logan tells him, which makes him cry harder, but he thanks Logan anyway. Can't seem to stop thanking him, even as he sobs, and it's almost a shocked kind of sound, the way he cries, like a kid with their first broken arm.

God, it feels so fucking good. He's never going to be able to make Wade stop giving him everything because he likes it so much, he fucking loves it, every single time.

Wade comes almost as soon as Logan gets his hand around him, and Logan fills his ear with stupid praise as he works him through it, how he's so good, so tight, so sweet, so good for Logan, so fucking good to him, better than anybody should be.

Logan doesn't last long either after that, way too worked up do anything but give into it. Wade shakes as Logan fills him, his sobs slowing to sniffles and hitching damp breaths. Logan wraps his arms around him and nuzzles down into his neck, breathing him in deep, and for a minute they stay like that.

Logan waits for his cock to go soft and lets himself slip out as gently as he can. As soon as he's free Wade spins in his arms and grabs his face and kisses him, demanding. It's nothing Logan doesn't want to give him, so he does, all of it, everything Wade wants. Even when Wade breaks off and looks away, swallowing roughly, and says, "Tell me again."

"That you're mine?" Logan watches his eyes close. "You know you are."

"Yeah," Wade sighs. When he opens his eyes again he looks tender, exhausted. Soft. "So take me home already, daddy. It's past my bedtime."

"I fucking hate that daddy shit," Logan mutters. Wade falls into step beside him as he starts back down the street, so close they could be sharing an umbrella, stays soft and close and quiet the whole way home.

#deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #origins poolverine #wanksgiving 2024 #smubbles #listen. i kept it under 2k. for me that's deserving of the -bble suffix

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fountainpenguin · 10 months ago

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My favorite thing ever about Anti-Cosmo and the Head Pixie is that you look at Anti-Cosmo and it's like-

"Oh, this is the stereotypical evil villain who is flamboyant, intelligent, suave, and in control! All the other magical antagonists probably defer to him." And then you actually watch him and he does stuff like-

Throw away his wand

Fly in circles at record speeds

Run away from confrontation

Write with colored pens and change color every sentence

Throw paper airplanes

Crash into things

Throw tantrums

Read comic books

Fly a private jet despite being able to fly and teleport

Keep cows in his castle

Keep a cat in his pocket

Stand on the fancy dining table

Pretend to be a scone

Break character as a scone by running away laughing

Defer to H.P. even in his own castle

Defer to his son even in his own castle

Raise an anti-fairy child with H.P. for some reason that's never explained, but which Jorgen has photo evidence of ?? You raised an anti-fairy with the leader of the Pixies ??

Also, knows H.P. and Jorgen well enough to recognize when Jorgen is actually H.P. in disguise??

And there's H.P. who wears a nice suit, works at Pixies Incorporated in the big city, and talks about puppeting people, so you approach thinking "Okay, this is the strict boss who wants all the paperwork filed. He represents why you shouldn't make deals with fairies because he has all these complicated contracts and he's not going to allow wiggle room. Dull and boring; got it."

But it turns out he likes to-

Go to raves

Sing rap songs

Breakdance

Spin on his head and drill into the floor

Wear flowers

Get drunk

Hang out in the hot tub

Climb on people's shoulders

Build miniature models

Fist bumps and finger guns

Call people "Dude"

Draw skulls on things

Say "Gasp" instead of gasping

Get up from his desk and dance around, announcing in monotone "Go me, go me; it's my birthday"

Listen to someone argue with him and then respond with "No, that's hilarious"

Also fly a private jet despite being able to fly and teleport

Elbow people in the side while teasing them

Feed you pizza by shoving his entire hand in your mouth

Stand right in front of you and prank call you

Wear two hats at the same time

Hop on a flying scooter, announce "The only thing you'll be eating is my dust! Later, dude!" and peace out

Complain too many people like him

Use babies as yo-yos

Also, H.P. won a footrace against Anti-Cosmo?? This man made the conscious choice to run instead of fly and he won!?

And that's not even getting into the cross-dressing or the fact that A.C. and H.P. grab each other and hug when they're scared. 10/10 character design. They are so silly...

#Fairly OddParents #FOP #Anti-Cosmo #Head Pixie #The Fairy Oddlympics #FAIRIES!#The bat with the hat #I'm wasp dad trash #screenshots

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nihilo-sensei · 1 year ago

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The Infamous Chuuya-SSKK Car Ride

Two. Fucking. Hours.

Akutagawa and Atsushi have been arguing for two hours almost non-stop and there's still an hour to go in the trip. If you had asked Chuuya before he climbed into this four-wheeled prison what the most annoying thing on Earth was, he would've said without hesitation that it was dealing with Dazai. That was a more innocent time, a time before life had decided to punish him for his every felony, misdemeanor, and wasted gallon of milk. He wasn't sure if these apparently nuclear-powered bickering machines being confined to the backseat was better or worse for him. Probably better; at least one half of the invective wasn't being spewed directly into his left ear.

As much as he wanted to blame a member of the Armed Detective Agency for all of his misery, he was disappointed to say that it had been his subordinate and fellow mafioso who started this. Granted it hadn't taken much to get the weretiger to dive down to Akutagawa's level, but he was just trying to make conversation, asking if Chuuya listened to much music. Honestly, the gravity manipulator would've been delighted to spend a three-hour car ride talking about music, even with an ADA member. It was kind of nice that the kid had reached for some common ground between them. Akutagawa really hadn't needed to cut Chuuya off before he had a chance to answer by saying, "No one cares, weretiger." That one admittedly rude remark had sealed Chuuya's fate for the rest of the ride out to the countryside. Thanks, Aku.

"You better not get in my way when we get there, weretiger. The Port Mafia doesn't need Least Beneath the Moonlight."

"I guess I'll leave the job to Brash-ōmon, then. Get over yourself."

How are they still coming up with new insults? Chuuya hadn't even had the energy to tell them to shut the fuck up passed the 35-minute mark, about 25 minutes after his throat started to hurt from trying to match their combined volume. It was like they didn't even hear him. They were in their own little world together.

That was what he'd been warned about, though, wasn't it? Akutagawa and the tiger boy had… tension. He had heard about it from Dazai, but hadn't given it much thought. After all, why would he bother listening to anything that mummy's asshole says off the battlefield? He would happily throw Dazai off a building if he wasn't sure it would make that freak even happier than it would make Chuuya. Something about this train of thought makes Chuuya feel like a hypocrite for some reason. Where was he?

"At least I don't dip my bangs in Wite-Out!"

"Your impoverished ass could only afford one bang!"

Oh right, this thick fog of something making itself at home in Chuuya's backseat and inside his pounding skull. He had thought it was just a joke or an exaggeration, but this much passion for each other? Could all of that really just be simple hate? No, this doesn't really feel like hate. But if they don't hate each other why tell themselves that they do? That's so self-destructive. They should just confront their feelings like adults. Even if those feelings aren't romantic they could still find themselves good friends, they have a lot in common. At least they'd stop making their sexual tension or whatever everyone else's problem.

Why does Chuuya feel like a hypocrite again?

—

Chuuya stares into the rear-view mirror. The new Double Black had practically passed out five minutes into the drive to Yokohama. Not surprising after the mission had turned out to be far more complicated then they had anticipated. He wasn't complaining, he really couldn't deal with another three hours of angry sound waves bouncing around an enclosed space. Truthfully, they'd earned the rest. Even when the situation was going to shit they'd worked well together. Atsushi kept Akutagawa's mind on the civilians while Akutagawa's support kept Atsushi calm and focused. Chuuya sees now why Dazai put them together, not that Chuuya would ever openly tell the man he was right.

So he'd let the pair sleep, only debating whether he should wake them up after the blessedly silent car had crossed the Yokohama city limit. He had glanced into the mirror and caught sight of something that made him suddenly redirect as much attention as he safely could to it. The Sun had set halfway through the drive so he had had to wait for the car to pass the next street light to get a good look at it, and sure enough he saw exactly what he thought he had. At some point in the drive Atsushi and Akutagawa had leaned into each other while they slept. Atsushi's head was now resting on Akutagawa's shoulder while the mafioso's head rested on top of the weretiger's. Chuuya smiled. Definitely not hate.

As the car nears the ADA office, where Atsushi is to be dropped off, Chuuya pulls into a gas station with a new mission in mind. After he puts the car in park he takes out his phone and hopes that fatigue keeps the pair asleep and unaware while he does what needs to be done. He gambles on using the flash and wins a nice, clear picture that's going to absolutely make his fucking day the next time Akutagawa decides to make him sit through another "that goddamn foolish weretiger" rant. But was it really fair to make just Akutagawa suffer when Atsushi was about as responsible for Chuuya's three-hour ordeal earlier? No. And isn't the ADA all about that justice shit?

Chuuya opens his text thread with Dazai, taps his thumbs to the screen a few times, and hands down Atsushi's sentence with the push of 'Send'. He only has to wait a few seconds before the weretiger's irritating superior responds.

Mackerel (21:04): Oh my god, thank you so much for this! How useful my dog is becoming!

You (21:04): I seriously can't do this with you right now, Dazai. Those little bastards almost wiped me out on the way to the mission. They argued the entire time. I'm fucking tired.

Mackerel (21:05): Impressive, isn't it?

"Impressive" was one way of putting it. "Never gonna happen again" was another.

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glossdebut · 5 months ago

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take a bite | MYG ★ 4

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: mental health-related stuff for yoongi (past), seokjin being meddlesome, um... smut! surprise, it's here. min yoongi #1 munch

✧ WORDCOUNT: 5.1k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: hmmm hi hello. this chapter gave me problems, so sorry for the wait, but i'm actually really pleased with how it ended up. also, i'm adding the songs that inspire my chapter titles to every chapter from here on out, and going back to edit them into previous chapters. hope u enjoy!

CH. 4: Just The Way That We Are

Yoongi loves his friends.

Yoongi’s friends have saved his life more times than he can count, and they keep him social, and they make him feel loved, and he loves them back. That’s what he has to remind himself of, anyway. Because he kind of wants to kill them right now.

He may whine and complain about them, but he enjoys their standing monthly plans—wellness checks, Namjoon dubbed them—much more than he lets on.

He knows himself, knows what he can be like sometimes. He knows that he spends more time in the studio than he does at home. He knows that when he gets sucked into working on a track he’s shit at taking care of himself. He likes to think that he’s better about it now.

There was a time, though, not all that long ago, where it wasn’t uncommon for him to sleep on the ratty couch in his studio more days out of the week than his own bed. A time where he survived on massive cups of coffee and treated showers as rewards for figuring out why his songs were so fucking bad. A vicious cycle of bleeding nailbeds and uneaten cup ramen and the sound of a metronome making him want to bash his skull against his desk. A spiral.

A spiral that ended abruptly when Seokjin weaseled the door code for Yoongi’s studio out of Namjoon and found him sitting in the dark muttering at his computer screen, several pounds lighter than the last time Seokjin had seen him.

Seokjin was nice to Yoongi about it. He didn’t judge when he had to peel Yoongi out of his chair and force dinner into his mouth. Even when he had to sit in the bathroom with him as he showered, just in case Yoongi passed out. He didn’t make any jokes. That’s how Yoongi knew that he’d fucked up, back then. How he knew that he’d really scared Seokjin. Not one goddamn joke.

So, wellness checks were born. The seven of them gathering monthly, always at Yoongi’s apartment, to spend time together. Sometimes they eat dinner, sometimes they play video games. Most of the time they drink. Wellness checks, plus Seokjin popping in on random nights between to make Yoongi dinner, have kept Yoongi from spiraling for almost two years now.

So really, Yoongi does love his friends. They keep him afloat, hold him accountable.

They’re also annoying, nosy little motherfuckers that won’t stop hounding him about you.

It starts like this: Yoongi is minding his business, like always.

He’s burrowed into the couch, watching an argument unfold between Jeongguk and Seokjin over who gets to play as Mario in Mario Kart. He’s been drinking from the huge bottle of whiskey you bought him all night, and he’s lost count of how many he’s had now. He’s really fucking focusing on this argument. Jeongguk and Seokjin both talk too fast, especially when they’re yelling at each other.

And even though aside from being drunk Yoongi is being completely fucking normal, Hoseok mistakes his silence for, like, contemplation or melancholy or something stupid like that, when really he’s just waiting for Jeongguk to win and get to play as Mario, like always.

“Hyung, you’re being quiet,” Hoseok says, and suddenly it feels like all eyes are on Yoongi. The only other person he could be talking about is Seokjin and Seokjin can very rarely be described as quiet.

“He’s thinking about his lady love,” Seokjin says. Case in goddamn point. “His neighbor. She’s cute, but Yoongi-yah has no game.”

And really, fuck him. Seokjin may be one of Yoongi’s favorite people on the planet—he’s just drunk enough to acknowledge it—but that was just uncalled for. No game?

Yoongi has come to terms with the fact that he likes you, but it’s also really not that goddamn serious. He would be an idiot not to. You’re pretty, you’re intelligent, you’re interesting. You have real aspirations and you’re going for them with everything you’ve got, so that makes you cool in his eyes.

Sometimes you post songs you like on your Instagram story, and Yoongi doesn’t even really use Instagram that often, but when he checks it, it’s almost always a song he likes. And if it’s not, he listens to it when he has a few minutes, and he ends up liking it anyway. It makes him feel like… He doesn’t know. It’s nice. Kind of sexy, somehow.

He thought about kissing you that day in his apartment before Seokjin barged in and sent you flying across his kitchen. Fuck, he wanted a taste. But Yoongi can read a cue, and you’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t have time for dating.

So, yes. He likes you. But he also understands you, because he’s been you. Seokjin seems to be under the impression that Yoongi is stuck in some kind of dramatic unrequited love situation, because that is the way that Seokjin thinks love works, but he just met you. He’s happy to be your friend, if that’s what you want. That’s why he offered it in the first place. Yoongi respects your boundaries enough to listen to you the first time when you say you don’t date. Simple as that. Being your friend isn’t some kind of consolation prize to him.

Also, rewind—once again, no game? Yoongi is a master in the art of flirtation, thank you very much. What the hell does Seokjin know about having game? All he has is his stupid face and his height, Yoongi thinks bitterly. One day, his stupid face will become ugly, too, because that is the way of the world. Seokjin will have nothing, but Yoongi will still have his words.

He’s opening his mouth to say something to that effect, but of course, everybody has something to say after Seokjin’s betrayal.

“Hyung likes a girl? Since when?” Jimin asks. Yoongi presses his lips into a thin line.

Jeongguk chimes in. “She’s cute? Hyung, why does Seokjin-hyung know she’s cute? Why does he get to know everything first?”

“The one in the apartment down the hall, hyung?” Hoseok. Waggling his eyebrows like he knows more. Seokjin is going to die.

“She lives down the hall? Can we meet her?” Taehyung.

Morons, Yoongi thinks.

“You’re all crazy,” he complains, pinching the bridge of his nose. He can feel himself getting pink, the six pairs of eyes on him making him bristle. He ducks his head, sinking further into the couch. “Why do you want to meet my neighbor so bad? Quit being weird. No.”

“Leave Yoongi-hyung alone,” Namjoon says, and see? That’s why Yoongi likes him! Very diplomatic, as per usual.

“Thank you, Joon-ah.”

“He can be a pussy all he wants.”

Oh, okay!

Yoongi is going to strap Kim Namjoon to that mechanical bull with rope next time and then leave him for dead.

“Is that what they taught you in your gender studies course, Kim Namjoon?” Yoongi hisses, crossing his arms over his chest defensively, but before Namjoon can defend himself, Seokjin is speaking.

“You should invite her over, Yoongi-yah.” Yoongi hates how soft his voice sounds about it. Like he’s trying to be gentle with Yoongi’s feelings or something.

He sighs, sitting up.

“It’s really not like that,” Yoongi insists, his frustration mounting as he rubs at his temples. “I’m sure you’re all going to meet her at some point, okay? Because we’re friends. But not tonight. Stop trying to be matchmakers. It’s pissing me off, and you’re all ass at it, anyway.”

That seems to be effective in shutting them down, but now Yoongi is faced with six guilt-laden expressions. He softens a bit. He’s being too harsh, he realizes. They barely said anything, and they mean well. He knows that.

“Look, I just met her, and we haven’t had many opportunities to hang out,” he says, more gently this time. “We’re both busy. I don’t know her that well yet, and I don’t want to overwhelm her with… meeting the family so early on.”

“Sorry, hyung,” Namjoon says. Yoongi shakes his head.

“It’s fine. I just need all of you to drop it for now,” he says.

Everyone seems to agree. Even Seokjin, which is the biggest relief of all.

He knows why Seokjin is trying to push this. Why they all are.

When he told you he understood you, that he got it, he really meant it. He’s been fucked over before, more than once. Not for the same reasons as you, but he can imagine it probably hurts the same.

Relationships in general have never really been high up on Yoongi’s priority list to begin with. In his eyes, it can be nice when it happens, but he doesn’t reach for it.

He’s done the casual sex thing, but he never needed it like some people claimed to. Yoongi can relate to feeling like a shaken up soda can ninety-nine percent of the time, but one night stands don’t do much to relieve the pressure for him. In the end, casual caused more problems for him than it solved, so he doesn’t do that anymore. Doesn’t really want to again.

He’s done the relationship thing, too. That was better. The feeling of falling in love is… Well, he got lots of songs out of his last relationship, that’s for sure. He fell pretty hard, so hard that he didn’t even feel like himself. His friends were tickled. Min Yoongi, who gets so prickly about public displays of affection, kissing his girlfriend in the middle of a crowded street, just because! Not caring when it ended up online. Feeling proud, even. Putting that kind of trust into someone else made him feel so much lighter. Anyway, he got a lot of songs out of the breakup, too.

It’s been a long time since Yoongi has shown interest in anyone, even to a minute degree. He can’t blame his friends for wanting to play the six Bingleys to his Darcy, but he’s not going to push you, and he’s not going to put you in a room with his friends who are afraid hes going to die alone and let them try to push you either. If you decide you want him, he wants it to be real.

The rest of wellness check night goes by relatively smoothly, all things considered. Jeongguk does, in fact, end up playing as Mario despite Seokjin trying to play the hyung card over it. He also wins so much that Jimin’s eye starts twitching. All in all, it’s a pretty normal night.

Yoongi thinks that he’s successfully evaded further probing about you, until he finds Seokjin lingering by the door after the rest of them have filtered out.

“Yoongi-yah,” he says in that same soft tone from earlier.

“I don’t want to hear it, hyung.”

“I know you don’t, but you’re going to hear it anyway.” His voice is firm.

Jeongguk may not fall victim to Seokjin’s hyung card easily, but Yoongi does. He always does. So he sighs, waving a hand for Seokjin to get on with it.

“Invite her to your studio.”

“What?” Yoongi asks, scoffing. His studio is sacred. “Why?”

“You said you don’t get to see her that often, but you don’t want to bring her around us yet,” Seokjin says, looking at Yoongi like he’s dumb. “She’s a writer. You can write anywhere, Yoongi-yah.”

“She has an office,” he says flatly, and Seokjin groans, rolling his eyes like Yoongi is being obtuse.

“It’ll be like when we go fishing. We don’t really talk much, but the silence is nice. It’s still quality time. You can spend time together without taking time away from work for both of you.”

Yoongi opens his mouth to protest, but when Seokjin says it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad. It could work, if you’re open to it… He thinks he remembers Namjoon going on about, like, children doing what Seokjin is proposing—parallel play, or whatever—but it could work.

“Maybe,” he says finally.

“No, it’s okay,” Seokjin says, grinning. “You can admit that I’m a genius. The world may think that it’s you, but I’m the real brains of this operation.”

“Go home, hyung,” Yoongi huffs, pushing Seokjin out the door. He shuts it behind him, hearing his hyung’s screechy laugh descending down the hall.

It’s not a bad idea.

★ ★ ★

You’re in Yoongi’s studio, and it feels like a very bad idea.

On your part, at least. It was actually unbelievably sweet, the way Yoongi proposed it. Which does not help your problem in the slightest.

It’s been several weeks since you’ve last seen him in person, all of your correspondence with him taking place over text. Busy, busy, you claim to be, and you have been, but you had been terrified Yoongi was going to start thinking you’ve been avoiding him. You also feel so, so guilty that he would’ve been right.

You just haven’t been able to figure out how to look him in the eye after… your recent thoughts about him. Thoughts that have been pervading your mind ever since you admitted to Rina that yes, you very much would like to find out what his cock would feel like inside of you.

You fully intended to continue avoiding seeing him in person until you could figure out either A) how to stop those thoughts entirely, or B) how to ask him if he would be down to clown in a completely casual, platonic manner. You’ve been coming up empty on both.

And then you saw that he’d texted you, looking at your phone right as the rest of your coworkers were filtering out of the office and you were hunkering down for another two hours minimum of work, and once again, you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to him. Not when he always somehow seems to know the right things to say.

[5:57] Yoongi: If you get stuck while you’re writing tonight, you should come by the studio. Change of scenery might help.

[5:58] Yoongi: Haven’t seen you in a while and I’ll be here late. Plus I’d bet good money that you haven’t eaten dinner yet, and I’m about to order some.

[6:00] Yoongi: Do you need any more incentive? My company should be enough.

[6:10] Do I need to bribe you with those raps you keep bothering me about? I’ll show you 30 seconds of ONE.

You really hadn’t been ignoring him that time, and thankfully you were able to open them only ten minutes after his last text. He knows your texting habits well enough at this point to know that you either respond instantly or take forever, caught up in whatever it is you’re working on. It’s almost like he’s nervous you’ll say no, which is just… He’s cute. Whatever. You said yes.

The problem is, now you’re in his studio, sitting on his couch with your laptop perched on your thighs, picking at the remnants of the takeout he’d ordered, trying and failing miserably at focusing on your work.

It was a lovely idea on his part to invite you to work in silence with him. It was so sweet. It’s not his fault that you can’t focus, that for the past thirty minutes all you’ve been doing is trying to figure out how to ask him to bend you over his desk. Because you’ve officially made your decision on that.

You decided about ten minutes after you arrived, in fact. The thirty seconds of the rap he’d promised to play you made a strong argument (Seokjin wasn’t joking about college Yoongi being shameless) but you held your resolve to put the idea of having sex with Yoongi out of your mind.

No, it wasn’t the filthy, explicit bars spat out in his gravelly voice that did you in. It was the sight of him sitting in his chair, noise-cancelling headphones on, tapping away at his midi. Surrounded by expensive equipment, plaques outlining achievements, a guitar hanging on the wall. There’s a coffee cup on his desk that you can only imagine has been sitting there since the morning. From where you're sitting, you can see him in profile: his eyes sharp and focused, his tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth. Like he can do this all night. In his element.

In short, you find it sexy that he’s a workaholic just like you. You don’t want to think too hard about that at all.

He has one ear of his headphones shifted behind his ear in case you need him for something (also sexy), so you set the takeout and your laptop on the coffee table, clearing your throat.

“Yoongi,” you say softly.

He hums in response, his eyes still focused on the monitor in front of him.

“Can I talk to you about something?”

At that, he clicks a few more times on his computer before tearing himself away, taking off his headphones and turning his chair to face you.

“What’s up?”

You take a shaky breath, sitting up a little from where you’ve burrowed on the couch. This isn’t a big deal, you remind yourself. The worst he can say is that he wouldn’t be into it, and Yoongi hasn’t given you any indication that he’s a judgy guy.

“So, I told you that I don’t really have time to date,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think you’re insane for starting a conversation like that.

“You mentioned it,” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Right. So, that’s true,” you say, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater to give your hands something to do. “I don’t want to date anybody right now. But… I, um.” You look down at your hands in your lap. You’re losing steam, losing confidence. Is there a right way to do this? If there is, you’re sure you’re not doing it. But Yoongi is patient. He sits quietly, waiting for you to find the right words.

It takes you a second, your mounting anxiety causing you to change course in the middle of your sentences, but you finally get them out.

“You’re so… I like being your friend, a lot. And I don’t want that part of our relationship to change. But I was wondering if…” A breath. You need to spit it out. “I’m like, horribly attracted to you. And I was wondering if you’d want to do, like, a friends with benefits thing?”

You cringe at yourself. You’ve never done something like this before, and it shows. You’re completely prepared for Yoongi to laugh and say no, to go back to his work. But when you look up, your breath catches in your throat.

Yoongi’s eyes are so, so dark. You don’t know what to make of the way he’s looking at you. It’s not the same look he gave you the night you met, when you were both harmlessly flirting. The way he looked at you in his kitchen is closer, but it’s still not the same. There’s something else there, something you don’t recognize. He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, his voice as low as you’ve ever heard it. Serious.

You shiver, but you nod and soldier on.

“I don’t want you to think it’s weird that I want that,” you say, standing your ground. “But yes. That’s what I want.”

Yoongi is unmoving, maybe taking a moment to consider your offer, and you can’t take it. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest. He needs to stop fucking looking at you like that.

Finally, he speaks. “It’s not weird,” he says. Nothing else. You wait, tortuous seconds passing by, expecting some kind of verdict, a yes or no, but it never comes. You break.

“Yoongi...” He hums. “...Do you want to fuck me?”

You watch as Yoongi licks his lips, his eyes raking over you shamelessly. Apparently that was the right thing to ask.

“You have no idea how badly I want to fuck you.”

The air in his studio thickens, just like that. Fuck. You feel like you’re going to die before he gets the chance.

“Show me,” you breathe.

Yoongi assesses you for just a moment longer before standing from his desk chair, crossing the small space of his studio to sit beside you on the couch. His body is turned towards you, so you turn in kind, swallowing thickly.

He reaches to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing over your cheek in the process. His touch leaves a trail of heat over your skin, making you gasp, closing your eyes. There’s no alcohol warming you this time, making your head feel fuzzy, not right now. It’s just Yoongi, maybe it’s just been Yoongi the whole time, making you feel so affected by so little.

“I’m not fucking you tonight,” he says. Your eyes snap open, a protest at the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch. “Not tonight. Let’s start with something easy, baby.”

Baby.

“Easy?” you breathe. You’re half-convinced you’ll go along with anything he says. Take anything he sees fit to give you. He hasn’t even done anything. You’re screwed.

He nudges his nose against yours, his hand sliding down from your hair to cup your jaw, the other rubbing gentle circles into your hip. “Easy,” he murmurs, and then his lips are on yours, the sensation stealing all of the breath from your lungs.

Yoongi’s kiss is slow and exploring, unhurried, thorough, like he has all the time in the world to take you apart piece by piece and he intends on using it. You feel yourself whimper against his lips, your hands coming up to fist in his shirt, as if you can’t get him close enough.

His tongue teases at the seam of your lips. They part easily for him, and fuck, kissing has never felt like this before, made your whole body burn. You’re no virgin, for fuck’s sake. You and your ex had plenty of sex, and it was even good, but if just kissing Min Yoongi feels like this, you’re not prepared for what it’ll be like when he fucks you. Maybe he’s right to start with something easy.

Apparently, though, Yoongi has other plans.

He pulls back from the kiss, squeezing your hip. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll still take care of you,” he says, trailing heated kisses from your jaw down to your neck. “You want me to?”

“Yes,” you pant, uncaring of how desperate you must sound. It’s all out in the open now, no use in hiding it.

Yoongi chuckles as his hands find the hem of your sweater, sliding under it to feel your feverish skin. “Stop me whenever,” he murmurs against your neck, squeezing your breasts over the fabric of your bra.

When you don’t reply, his fingers expertly locate a nipple through the fabric, pinching it lightly, and you breathe out a gasped ‘okay.’ He hums, pleased, his mouth claiming yours again as he continues to run his hands over your body.

You only break the kiss when one of his hands pauses at the waistband of your pants, but it sure as hell isn’t to stop him.

“Touch me,” you encourage, your forehead pressed against his.

Yoongi wastes no time, and you watch as his hand disappears under the fabric, thanking your lucky stars for dress pants with elastic waistbands. His fingers slide beneath the fabric of your panties to slip through your folds, and you both groan when he finds you drenched.

“Fuck,” he hisses, running his fingers up and down your slit slowly. “You’re soaked, baby. How long were you sitting here thinking about me fucking you?”

“Pretty much the whole time,” you admit weakly, your hips jolting when he circles your clit, a shaky moan falling from your lips.

His hand retreats from your pants, and before you can react, he’s rising from the couch, pushing the coffee table out of the way with his foot and sinking to his knees in front of you.

“I’ve gotta taste you,” he says, his expression almost pained as he tugs at your pants. “Can I?”

Who the fuck are you to say no to that?

You nod your consent eagerly, lifting your hips up so he can pull your pants and underwear off all in one go. Once you’re bare from the waist down, Yoongi slides his hands up your calves, positioning your legs so they’re spread wide, your feet planted on the couch on either side of you.

The way he looks at you then, almost worshipful, his jaw slack and pupils blown as he stares at your core... He looks almost as wrecked as you feel.

“Look at you,” he breathes, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, and then he’s surging forward, his tongue flattening to lick a broad stripe over your pussy.

“Yoongi,” you moan, your head falling back against the cushion behind you as your hands fly forward to tangle in his hair. Encouraged, he licks into you over and over, like he’s trying to devour you, his nose grinding against your clit as he works his jaw. “Fuck!”

Yoongi pulls back and you force yourself to lift your head, moaning at the sight of your slick all over the lower half of his face.

“Taste so fucking sweet,” he groans, trailing two fingers through your folds again to tease at your entrance. “You want more?”

“Please,” you whimper, and he grins, his fingers sinking into your pussy with little resistance. He curls them up, searching for the spot that will make your vision go white. When he finds it, you cry out, your back arching, and he leans forward again to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking at it.

It’s all too much, so fucking good you think you might die if he keeps going. Shit, you’ll die if he stops, too. He better not fucking stop.

“D-don’t stop,” you whimper, and he hums against your clit, making your eyes roll back as his fingers quicken into a steady, relentless pace.

It becomes clear he has no plans to stop, to tease, that he wants to push you over the edge just as much as you want to fall.

He uses his free hand to nudge your thigh, guiding one of your legs over his shoulder. The other follows suit, and before long, you’re practically squeezing his head between the plushness of your thighs, your moans coming out unbidden.

With one particularly hard suck to your clit, you’re gasping for breath, your eyes squeezing shut. All of the tension in your body snaps at once and your hips push into his touch, grinding against his fingers and his tongue as your orgasm washes over you in waves.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, fuck,” you mewl, your hips moving of their own accord as you ride out the high, your skin buzzing with heat.

Yoongi’s fingers slow their pace but he doesn’t stop, milking your release for all it’s worth until you’re pushing his head away weakly, trying to catch your breath.

Finally, he relents, sitting back on his heels, his breaths just as labored as yours. He withdraws his fingers, sucking them into his mouth to lick your release off of them.

“Holy shit,” you pant, running your hands over your face, and Yoongi laughs.

“Good?” he teases, and you nod, slumping back against the couch. Good feels like an understatement, and you can tell he knows that. You can only imagine the reason for that slightly smug look on his face is from the sheer speed with which he made you come. You’d be embarrassed about it if he didn’t look so turned on, his eyes running over your body like he’s deciding whether he wants to go for seconds.

After a moment, he moves to stand up, wincing at the tension in his knees. Your eyes zero in on his cock straining against the material of his sweatpants instantly, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. Fuck, you want that. You want it so bad. Why won’t he give it to you? Your staring doesn’t go unnoticed.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Not tonight, Y/N,” he says, and you make a pitiful noise. Why he wants to deny himself a blowjob is beyond you.

He slips his hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants (right in front of you, the tease) to give himself a placating squeeze and adjust himself. “Next time,” he promises, bending at the waist to cup your cheek and kiss you again.

You taste yourself on his lips, pulling him further by the front of his shirt. He lets you, bracing a hand on the back of the couch to keep himself steady. “You sure?” you breathe between hot, needy kisses. He groans and you think, for a moment, that you might be able to persuade him to change his mind. But then he’s pulling away again, and you whine.

“Next time,” he repeats, grasping your wrist and gently removing your hand from his shirt so he can stand up straight. He looks at his watch. “I doubt anyone is still here, so I’m gonna go get some stuff to clean us both up.” You nod, relenting.

You laugh softly as he adjusts his erection again, at the way he huffs when he can’t get it to look any less obvious. He flips you off at the sound of your laughter, but you can tell there’s no heat behind it.

Once he gives up, he dips his head out the door to check for anyone who could be lingering out there, then retreats from his studio into the hallway. You hear the whir of his door lock as he secures it behind him, ensuring that no one will walk in on you in this state, and then you’re alone.

Sated as you are, the reality of what just happened sinks in quickly. Yoongi ate you out in his place of business. Insane! But to your surprise, it doesn’t feel as major as you were worried it would. Your heart swells at the idea that all of the confidence and trust you had in Yoongi to be upfront with you wasn’t misplaced, that he really is okay with this arrangement. It’s too early to tell, but it already feels like things will stay the same between the two of you.

With the added benefit of sex. Insanely good sex, if what you just experienced is anything to go by. You’re already thinking of the next time that he promised.

You make a mental note to send Rina a fruit basket or something in Paris. She deserves it.

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