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therealbeachfox · 3 months

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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

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There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#gay marriage #gay rights #gay history #gay

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room-surprise · 3 months

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How Old Is Thistle?

(EDIT: I've made a follow-up post to this one that goes deeper into the math and additional evidence that the 5:1 ratio is correct. You can read it here!)

I've seen people debating this and a lot of folks insisting that Thistle is a child, and since Thistle just debuted in the anime, I wanted to do a full write-up to help myself and others figure this out.

We don't know how old any of the Merini family members are exactly, so the best we can do is guess based on the information we have, but after carefully studying the manga, I think Thistle is at least a teenager, but much more likely a young adult, and definitely not a prepubescent child.

Here's what we know:

EDIT: Depending on what translation you read of some of the extra materials, Freinag implies that Thistle is the same age as some of his advisors.

Here's a detailed translation of this panel from my friend Fumi:

Elves age 5 times slower than tall-men.

16 year old tall-men in Dungeon Meshi's medieval time period are adults, they commonly join the military, get married, have children, etc.

An 80 year old elf is an adult. Pattadol is 82 and she's a lieutenant in a military unit. It's her first job and she's obviously a rookie, but Captain Flamela tells Pattadol to accomplish her mission or die trying.

Many fully adult elves look like what we might consider children or young teens, because they're short, petite, and have androgynous features.

An average elven adult is around 150-155cm tall (5 ft), meaning some are shorter than that, and some are taller. Thistle is 130 cm, which is short, but not unheard of.

Fleki is 130 (26) years old and she's 140 cm tall (4'7")

Otta is 137 (27) years old and she's 130 cm (4'5") tall, the same height as Thistle!

They are both women, but there's probably plenty of elven men in their height range.

Just so we can compare Thistle to some adult elven men, Mithrun and his brother are probably adults (or close to it) in the panel on the left.

Mithrun (in this image) is somewhere between 75 and 144 (probably in his 80's), and his brother is older than him (so he could be in his late 80s or 90s). As you can see, they don't look that different from Thistle, Otta or Fleki.

So, how old is Thistle?

(Spoilers below the cut)

Thistle was brought to the royal court as a child (found on the street, stolen or purchased, we don't know how they got him). At the absolute youngest I'd guess Thistle is 25 years old here (so about 5 years old for a tall-man.) He can already play the flute, and possibly the lute, and most children that aren't prodigies can't handle playing an instrument (physically or mentally) until they're around 5.

EDIT: We now know that Thistle is the same age as Freinag, the king that takes him in! So Thistle must be at least 25 years old in this comic, though realistically he could be anywhere from 25 to 40 based on how Kui drew Freinag.

He lived in the court for an unknown amount of time, Freinag hasn't changed much but Thistle appears to have aged a little, so let's say it's been 5 years and Thistle is 30 (6) when Delgal is born. More than 5 years could have passed, but I'm trying to keep the numbers low.

Delgal gets married and has a child. Delgal should be at least 15 at this point, but since he has a full mustache before his wedding, I think he's in his 20's, since teenagers tend to not be the best at growing robust facial hair.

(He has a full beard by the time Eodio's a young child.)

Thistle puts the kingdom inside the dungeon around this point, however, people are still aging: Delgal's grandson Yaad is born, and Eodio is clearly a young adult here, probably in his 20's. Therefore, there is NO REASON to assume Thistle stopped aging. "The dungeon lords don't age" is a common fan headcanon I've seen people spreading, but it has no clear canon basis.

Yaad ages until he looks about 13-15 years old, and at this point all of the people of the kingdom and Thistle appear to stop aging, and 1,000 years pass.

So, the youngest Thistle could possibly be, if he was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, if Delgal was 15 when he had Eodio, and Eodio was 15 when he had Yaad, and Yaad is 13 years old...

Is 73 years old, which would make Thistle about 14.6 years old by tall-man standards.

HOWEVER, I think it's VERY unlikely that all the characters are that young.

I think it's clear from Kui's drawings that Delgal and Eodio are not 15 years old when they become fathers, and that Freinag is at least 25 when he takes in Thistle.

If we assume Thistle was 30 when Delgal was born, and Delgal and Eodio were both at least 20 when they had children, even if Yaad is only 13 years old, that makes Thistle at least 83 years old (16.6), and makes him older than Pattadol, who is an adult at 82.

However, I think it's entirely possible that Thistle was anywhere from 40-50 when Delgal was born, and Delgal could have been anywhere from 20 to 30 when he had Eodio, and Eodio could have been anywhere from 20-25 when he had Yaad. If you use the maximum ages, and assume Yaad is 15, then Thistle could be as old as 120 (24).

I think a reasonable middle ground is assuming Thistle was 30 (6) when Delgal was born, Delgal had Eodio at 25, Eodio had Yaad at 20, and Yaad is 15... Which would make Thistle 90 (18) years old.

This of course says nothing about Thistle's emotional maturity or sanity, he's obviously stunted in some ways, but the point I want to make here is:

Thistle's age could be anywhere from 14.6 to 24 at the most extreme, but more realistically he's somewhere between 16.6 and 18.

And that's not even counting the thousand years that he's lived since then!

And that's all I've got to say about that 🙏🙏🙏🙏

(EDIT: Follow-up post with additional evidence here.) EDIT 2: I've seen a lot of people talking about the page Kui drew talking about elven earmuffs. It's considered just barely okay for Pattadol to wear them, but it's ok for Thistle to wear them... In which case I'd say Thistle could be any age younger than 83. That's handy as it knocks out some of the older ages!

So in that case Thistle's age is between 73 years old and 82, which makes him developmentally between 14.6 and 16.4!

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #Thistle #Thistle Merini #thistle dungeon meshi #thistle delicious in dungeon #sissel #spoilers #theories

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badasmuse · 5 months

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“Homewrecker”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), lowercase intended, language, cheater!bada, bottom!bada, bada is married to h*wl, bada has a daughter, top!reader, lonely bada, she also cries, appearance from itzy’s yuna

Summary: bada is lonely, you fix that.

Part 2 Here

you absolutely loved children. ever since you were fifteen when you started babysitting for your neighbor that’s when you knew. you actually wanted to start your own daycare but you wanted a degree so you decided to take a few online classes in early childhood education. but, going to college meant you need money for books and such so you never stopped babysitting. but your usual child’s father came back into her life making you jobless once again, so when you received a text from an unknown number stating she got your number from her friend you jumped with joy. and that’s how you started working for bada lee and her husband.

on your first day, you pull up to the extremely big house, you’re nervous. you keep thinking, what if i lose this kid in this big ass house.

there’s a tall woman and a slightly shorter male standing in the doorway holding a little girl. she looks about seven. you step out of the uber and approach the little family. “hi i’m y/n. i’m looking for ms. lee?”

“that’s me.” she steps out shaking your hand. “you can call me bada. this is my husband howl, not his real name but as a dancer it’s just what he goes by, and our daughter chaeyoung. come in.”

you follow the woman in and dude when i tell you this house is huge. you could probably fit three semi trailers stacked on top of each other in here. with the wheels still on and everything. you’re too busy admiring the house to hear what bada is saying.

“got that y/n?” is all you hear.

“huh? oh i’m… im sorry i was admiring your house i didn’t hear a thing. could you… repeat that?” you say shyly.

“oh no problem. this is a list of people you can call if you can’t get in touch with either of us. always try lusher first she’s my best friend she’ll always be able to get ahold of me. i’ll be out at the studio a lot this month because i’m choreographing a few comebacks and howl is getting ready to go to japan to teach some classes. i will be back around nine tonight. here’s chae’s bedtime routine. she’ll try to stay up past eight thirty, if she fights let her because she’ll fall asleep in the next five minutes. you can just lay a blanket over her on the couch and i’ll carry her to the room when i come back. is that too much at one time?” bada asks after literally vomiting a shit ton of information.

“no no i think i got it all. also, if you’re gonna be dancing, i don’t mind carrying her to her room. you’ll be tired and probably want to shower, i can handle it.” you say smiling.

“if you can i’d appreciate it. oh we have to go. chae you be good for y/n okay? i mean it.” bada says crouching in front of the girl who just nods in response before hugging her mother tight and hugging her father’s leg.

soon, it’s just you and her. boy did she give you a run for your money. you did lose her in the house while playing hide n seek. she made you play dress up with her. she took your phone and hid it, spilled apple juice everywhere, and even went into her parent’s room and took one of her mom’s lipsticks.

by now it’s eight thirty and she surprisingly went to bed without an issue, which you were grateful for because now you have to clean the mess in the kitchen and living room.

“hi i’m home.. y/n?” you hear bada say.

“kitchen!” you respond.

“what.. happened?”

“oh she spilled apple juice. this- here. she took this from your room. um, do you mind calling my phone?” you mumble.

bada sighs and goes into a room before coming out with your phone in hand. “i’m sorry she did this to the last babysitter, and the one before. if you don’t want to continue just let me know okay?” she says helping you clean the apple juice.

you look up at her and see the sweat dripping down her face, the tired look in her eyes. she’s obviously struggling. “what time should i be here tomorrow?”

her eyes light up and she smiles brightly. “um, same time okay? it’ll just be me and her, my husband will be gone early.”

“i’ll be here. go shower. i’ll finish up and make my way out of here.” you pick up the used paper towel, throwing it in the garbage.

thirty minutes later she emerges from the bathroom dressed in a new pair of sweats and a tank with her wet hair flowing down her back.

“i’ll get your uber home. can you put your address in here?”

now it’s been four months and man, the feelings you feel towards this woman are crazy.

“she’s just so.. fine, yuna.” you say to your best friend. “when she comes home from the studio and she’s dripping with sweat. you know how hard it is to not jump on her?”

yuna laughs, “isn’t she married?”

“yes but… come on. her husband is never really there. she’s always tired and probably sexually frustrated. i could fix that for her for real.” you say taking the drink from her.

“that’s mine.” she sighs, “well are you gonna go for it?”

“i don’t know, should i? what if i get fired?” you say.

“then you get fired. come on i’ll drop you off. it’s almost time.”

once you arrive at the house, you knock and wait, watching yuna pull off. bada opens the door and looks at you surprised. “y/n? what are you doing here?”

you blink, “it’s.. saturday?”

“oh! oh i’m so sorry. first come in.” she steps to the side, “i’m sorry, chaeyoung is with her grandmother for today. i thought i told you. probably forgot i was doing so much this morning. i feel so bad you probably ubered here, let me pay you for that and i’ll get you one back.”

“my friend dropped me off. i can ask her to come get me.” you say sending a quick text to yuna.

“well have you eaten? let me get you something.” she says.

“i’m okay i’m not hungry.” at least, not for food.

“well.. here’s a water bottle. i’m so sorry.”

“it’s okay bada. my schedule is open.” you look at the reply from yuna and sigh. “actually could you get the uber? my friend is busy, she won’t be able to come get me for at least an hour or so.. unless you don’t mind me waiting?”

“i don’t mind. i actually wanted to talk to you about chaeyoung.” she says sitting next to you.

“what is it?”

“i’m not too sure what you’re doing but.. she used to be terrible in school, behavior wise, and ever since you came along it’s changed. what are you doing with her? what can i do to make sure she doesn’t act that way once you get your degree and stop working for me?” bada sighs, leaning back on the couch.

“bada,” you turn your body to face her, “the issue with chae is you don’t give her enough attention. i know both you and howl work a lot. it happens. but she tells me all the time how she wishes at least you were here more often. she’s lonely. it’s only her and you stick her with a bunch of strangers. she told me she feels happy when i’m here because even tho i’m leaving, i still make her happy because i’m giving her the attention she craves.”

bada wipes a tear from her cheek, “i try. it’s just hard. i want to be here. then howl took that stupid job traveling to different countries like he doesn’t have a wife and child at home. i feel like i’ve been snapping at her which is why i sent her with her grandmother. i wanted to.. be with my husband and he’s not even here he went to america. i wanted to talk to him about this.”

you pull bada in for a hug and rub her back as she cries into your shoulder. “you’re doing the best you can, bada. you can’t be too hard on yourself. howl should’ve thought about that before he left. he needs to understand you need help.” you say softly.

bada pulls back and looks at you, “you really think i’m doing my best?”

“i do.”

there’s a tension filled silence as you look at each other. you don’t know what fueled you but you lean in and kiss her on her lips before pulling back quickly. “oh shit i’m sorry you’re married-“

she cuts you off with another kiss gripping your shirt. this one is a lot more desperate. “please…” she mumbles against your lips. “i need this please.. please don’t go.” she whines.

“your room.” you say and she stands up pulling you into the bedroom she shared with howl.

she pushes you on the bed and climbs on top of you finding your lips again as your hands trail under her shirt. you pull it off her and she whines.

“relax baby, i’ll make you feel good, just be patient.” you turn her on her back kissing her neck and down to her chest. lifting up her bra you attach to her nipple, sucking gently and she moans. you pinch the other one with your fingers and her hips buck up against you, looking for friction.

“keep your hips down.” you whisper, kissing down her stomach. you leave marks on her hip bones and she moans your name.

“y/n please… please i want you so bad!” she writhes on the bed.

you pull her shorts off and she’s not wearing anything under them. “made this easy for me huh? oh you’re so wet for me bada.” you run a finger over her clit and her leg jerks. you put her leg on your shoulder and make eye contact with her. “can i?”

“please y/n please do- OH!” she moans out when your tongue makes contact with her clit. her hands clutch the sheets as you suck on her clit, sticking two fingers in her.

her breath hitches and she lets out loud moans, “oh my god s-so good! please more!”

you insert another finger curling them up into her spot. she lets out a squeal. “why are you so good at this?” she moans, hands going to your hair as she fucks herself onto your fingers. “i’m cumming!”

you speed up your fingers, flicking your tongue skillfully and she cums with a scream, your name falling off her lips.

you pull your hand out giving her a minute to breathe. “you okay?” you run her lower stomach gently.

“i need… more. please? i have.. have toys in my sock drawer.” she pants.

you walk over to where she points and find a different array of toys. “oh you’re kinky.”

“please use whatever you want. make me your slut. please.” she whines.

you bite your lip, grabbing the dildo, a vibrator, and some handcuffs. “you mind?”

“oh please!” she moves her hands to the headboard, letting you cuff her to it. “i-i can eat you out while you fuck me. you can sit on my face.”

you shiver at the thought before stripping and doing what she wants. her tongue skillfully explores you and you question how she let a man trap her with a tongue like that? you lean forward and put the dildo in her, immediately thrusting it in and out of her while putting the vibrator on her swollen clit. she moans into you and pulls at the cuffs. you’re worried she might be uncomfortable so you lift up but she whines loudly. “i’m not finished!”

you sit back down, thrusting the toy faster and turning up the speed on the vibrator. you let out a moan trying not to grind on her face. you move when she starts to mumble something.

“what did you say baby?”

“use me. use me to get yourself off. make me your personal tuck toy.” she moans out.

you moan as you move back onto her face doing as she asks all while you fuck into her tight count with the dildo. you’re close and you know she’s close from the way her moans get higher. she latches onto your clit sucking roughly as you pound the dildo into her gspot and you’re both cumming with loud moans. you remove the toys and she squirts all over her bed. you get off her and rub her clit, helping her ride out her high.

“okay! okay i’m done i can't…i’m done please!” she moans pulling the cuffs.

“give me one more. let me make sure you’re 100% satisfied. you might not get it this good for a while.” you whisper.

she whimpers and cums one last time, her juices flow out of her and you caress her thigh gently.

“so good for me bada. did such a good job.” you uncuff her and she pulls you in for a kiss. you can taste yourself on her tongue.

“thank you.” she whispers. “i needed that. god i needed that.. tell your friend nevermind. stay with me.”

“what about your husband? and chae?” you ask.

“he’s gone for a week, chae will be back tomorrow night. after i take a nap i want to go again.” she groans, turning on her side.

grabbing your phone, you tell yuna to just bring your backpack that has your strap instead and you lay down next to bada. she immediately moves her head onto your chest and sighs, falling asleep.

that was a lot easier than you thought it would be.

#bada lee #bada lee smut #bada lee x reader #swf2 x reader #swf2 #squidnotes

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battymommastuff · 9 days

Text

To be Mine

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Warnings: A bit of NSFW

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Masterlist

(NOT MY GIF)

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

"It's a shame isn't it? Watching someone you thought loved you, be with some else?" The voice spoke into your ear before moving some of your hair to the side. You could feel his golden mask press against your cheek. How did you end up here? One minute you were in the mansion...now you were standing on a building watching Batman with Catwoman. After weeks of hiding, the Court found you. He found you. You left your window open by mistake, and it was easy for them to sneak in an grab you. Alfred would have never known...

"And you are so beautiful...simply perfect." The Grandmaster whispered to you while running a hand along your waist, "How about we strike a new deal? Instead of becoming one of my Talons, you become mine?" Your eyes went wide when he said that. His? As in his lover? His wife?

"I will worship you. Protect you...nurture you. What has Batman done for you besides break your precious heart?" He asked while gesturing to the couple only a few buildings away, "Take my hand...and I swear I will show you what it means to be loved." He purred. Your eyes moved down to his hand. The black, leather glove had become more tempting. Who were you to resist such a tempting offer?

"Would I still be a part of the circus?" You asked, and the Grandmaster nodded. The circus...your home...your family. You could go home, and everything would be okay. Hesitantly, your hand extended to his. Despite him wearing it, the glove was cold to the touch. The Grandmaster smirked under his mask then pulled you close, "Welcome home, my love." He whispered, guiding you away from the edge of the building.

Selina had her head tilted to the side as Batman kissed her neck hungrily. A smirk on her face as she almost had him right where she wanted him. Then she could make her daring escape...as usual. That is, until she saw a group of people watching her from afar. "What the hell?" She whispered, getting Batman's attention. He pulled away from her neck then turned around. His eyes widened when he saw your hand in the Grandmaster's. How did the Court get to you?

Leaving a very confused Selina, Batman made his way across the rooftops as quickly as he could. He couldn't let them take you away. He tried so hard to act like he didn't care for you. He wanted to shut you out, but he couldn't. Even when he was kissing Selina, all he thought was about your lips, your neck...your everything. Batman...Bruce Wayne, they couldn't live without you.

By the time he got there, all that was left was a cloud of smoke. Batman fell to his knees and panted softly. Even though you weren't there, he could still smell your perfume. That smell would never leave him.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><

"Woah woah woah. You mean to tell me, you married the Grandmaster?!? Of the Court of Owls???" Jason asked as he got up from your bed. You smiled awkwardly while rubbing your baby bump.

"It wasn't my proudest moment, but I was young...and heartbroken." You explained then looked over at Dick who was just staring at the photo of you with him and his parents. You reached over and gently took the photo from his hand, "I loved them...as if they were my family. They were my family..."

><><><><><><><><><

Tonight…nearly two years later, your husband was hosting a masquerade ball in order to do some under the table business deals. You were also there. A golden mask that matched his, but only covered your eyes and nose. A black floor length gown that sparkled more than the diamonds on your finger. You were his bride, his trophy. Which made it very easy when a certain billionaire decided to attend.

This was your first public appearance in almost two years. The Court could keep you hidden from Batman, but not from Bruce Wayne. He wasn't on the guest list, but money always seemed to get him into the most interesting of places. Now here he was, walking up to you as you picked up a drink for you and your husband.

"Hello, (Y/N)."

That voice had chills running down your spine. Turning you saw his beautiful face. He was the only one not wearing a mask.

"Bruce…"

TAGLIST

@maxinehufflepuffprincess @tayswhp @rainycloud858 @luna-zendra-star @starlets-things @simpfourmarvel @kawaistrawberry21 @js-favnanadoongi @kodzukenmaaa @xxrougefangxx @pixviee @discocactus-world @b4tm4nn @minimoxha @crutoyu @nightw-izhu @legendarylearner18 @mangegeek17 @pixiedust0604 @that-one-fangirl69 @ilovetaquitoesmmmm @irelanrose @asterelz @angelxx7 @millies0bsimp @marie0v @starmansirius @amberpanda99 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @inutheangel @chaoticevilbakugo @mellowdiy @luvly-writer @enretrogue @zanzie @backyardfolklore @olivewisp @celestair @birdsdieatmydoor @teddyinks @bluusugar @murkyponds @nuttyrebelflower @bee-studio @miks-delusional-blog @luxky-aish @my-anime-garden @zanzie @cleocat246 @animegirlfromvietnam

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charlesf1leclerc · 9 months

Note

I have no ideas but i love to support writers so here we are

Charles with reader that speaks italian and french fluently, but they're not her first languages. and he didn't know that. So he's Very pleasantly surprised when he hears her talking with the ferrari people in italian. And then with his mom in french and he's all heart eyes for her😌

Summary- you learn French in order to make a great first impression on Charles family and Charles is over the moon about it

Warnings- poorly edited , badly translated French, mention of marriage

Authors note- I hope that this is ok and to your liking

It was a sunny evening in Monaco you and Charles where on your way over to his mums house for a family dinner. You were quite nervous was you had never met his mum before, you had met his brothers around the paddock and at races but you had yet to meet his mum and your really wanted to make a good impression. You ha doit your nicest dress on and tried to look as classy as possible not wanting to look tacky around the mother of the love of your life. You also had another little trick up your sleeve you had been learning a little bit of French so you could interact with the family in their native language, Charles hadn’t known you had been learning the language and you couldn’t wait to see his face when he found out , you just hoped tou wouldn’t miss pronounce anything cause that would ruin your prefect first impression.

“ here we are “ Charles spoke up

“ it’s really nice, this where you grew up” you inquired

“ yep this is where little Charles lived”

“ aww it’s so cute”

Charles came around and grabbed your hand as you walked up to the door. He could obviously feel your sweaty palms and he turned to face you before ringing the bell.

“ it’s gonna be ok Cherie, she’s gonna love you, how could she not”

“ yeah it’s just meeting your mum is a big deal I just want to make a good impression”

“ and you will “ he says pulling you into him kissing your temple before ringing the doorbell.

After a few minutes the door finally opened. “Bonjour”

“ bonjour mama” Charles spoke leaning in to kiss his mum on both of her cheeks.

“ et vous devez être o/n” ( and you must be y/n) she spoke turning to you

“Oh mum y/n dosent speak French “ Charles spoke this was your moment

“ c'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer Mme Leclerc” ( it’s so nice to meet you Mrs Leclerc )

Charles turned to you stunned at the fact you had just spoken such fluent French, he didn’t know you knew how to speak any other language other then English and he wasn’t gonna lie this made him fall in love with you even more.

“ oh tu parles français “ ( oh you do speak French ) she looked humorously at Charles.

“ juste quelques petites choses alors peut-être ne comptez pas sur mon français pour toute la nuit” ( just a few things so maybe don’t rely on my French for the whole night ) you laughed

“ well anyone nice to meet you dear, come in come let’s go settle inside and get to know each-other.

you and Charles followed her inside. Charles stopped you by grabbing your arm . You turned around to face him.

“ since when could speak French” he looked at you

“ since a couple weeks ago, I learnt some specially for today although I only know a few things I thought I might need to say “ you laughed rocking back on your heels

“ marry me “ he stared at you

You burst out laughing

“ what”

“ I mean I’m just so in love with you right now , you went to all that just for my family”

“ I mena i love you and I will do whatever for your family to love me”

He pulled you in to kiss your lips

“ your perfect for me” he looked lovingly in your eyes still holding your cheek.

“ you guys ok” Pascale shouted

“ coming mama” Charles linked his hand with yours as you walked further into the house. It’s safe to say the rest of your French knowledge paid of that night

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 3 months

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My dear lgbt+ kids,

I have been openly living as a trans man for some years now. And I'm at a point where it doesn't take up so much mental space anymore.

Don't get me wrong: I certainly do not mean "it doesn't matter anymore" here. I am not a "just call me whatever pronouns, I do not care" person and I don't think I ever will be. Nothing wrong with feeling that way, it's just not how I feel. Being adressed with my name and my pronouns is still important for my mental well-being, and it still triggers feelings of dysphoria when people misgender me.

Even apart from misgendering: My identity is still important, and it always will be! Being trans is not some small thing that loses its importance over time. It's who I am. Being a man - and having grown up in a society that told me I wasn't - influences the way I experience everything in my life (from my self-image to my relationships with others to... well, everything).

What I do mean here is: Before coming out to others, and also before coming out to myself and accepting myself as a man, there were naturally a lot of questions running circles in my brain. Why do I feel so sad when adults tells me I'll grow into a woman? Why does it cause me so much stress when mom tells me to put on a dress? Why does it make me so euphoric to use masculine scents? When I try to picture myself kissing a boy, why do I see two boys? Ah, I just learned trans people exist, why does this fascinate me so much that I can't stop thinking about it? Am I creepy for being so fascinated by them? I'm older now, why is that sad feeling not going away? Why is it only getting worse now that I have "grown into a woman"? Why do I keep getting this horrified feeling that I took a wrong route somewhere and was never meant to arrive at "woman"? Wait... could this mean I am trans? Is it too late to realize I am trans at my age? Can I really be trans when the whole thought of even just considering surgery feels overwhelming and scary? Will I ever be ready to actually come out as trans? I really want to get married some day, could I even find love as a trans person? Can I ever be happy in a relationship if I hide who I am? Can I go on living in the closet? Okay, I am trans and want to come out, is it safe to do that? Will my family still love me? Will I ever be brave enough to come out to people outside of my immediate circle? Will people take me seriously? Will people hate me? Will I regret coming out? What if I fuck up my life?

Well, I came out and the world didn't end. All these questions, I either found answers to them or they just dissolved over time - and that frees up a lot of energy and mental space. The space that was occupied by these questions and concerns is now available to me again.

I do not wonder if I am a man anymore. I just am one. It has become something that is just self-evident to me. It goes without saying - or without conciously spending time thinking about it. Of course I am a man, of course I am Oliver. Who else would I be?

We all have a limited amount of things we can focus on, and many trans people share this experience that over time they do not need to focus so much on it anymnore. But this is not unique to the process of figuring out you are trans - in the sense that a cis gay, bi, ace etc. person could also relate to this, but also in entirely non-lgbt-specific ways. Think about a person prepping for an important exam for example. A lot of their energy and mental space will be tied up in exam related questions... which obviously will not be a permanent state. After the exam, they will naturally no longer by preoccupied by wondering how the exam will go!

I'm telling you all this because one of you asked me if I struggled with coming to terms with being a trans man - and this is my very long way of saying: Yes, I did (and it's pretty normal to do! It's a really big realization about yourself!) but struggling isn't a permanent state.

You'll find answers to some questions, some questions will just fade away. You'll figure things out.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt

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roxannarichie · 11 months

Text

THE ANOMALY | Miguel O’Hara

Chapter One: Willow-Dean

“It…she… isn’t… hasn’t even been bitten… by anything!” Lyla yelled confused, her knowledge about this anomaly was extensive. She had detected her weeks ago but quickly realized the difference from past anomalies. Absolutely zero attachment to any kind of supernatural activity or phenomena. Nothing. Then why did the system detect her as an anomaly?

“What?” Miguel questioned, also confused, he walks toward his computer screen while putting on his Spider-suit. There was no way— there has to be something wrong with her— something that have away that she didn’t belong in that universe. His fingers tapped quickly and softly his watch– he pulls up a holographic screen of information about the woman. As he read the information, he gave intense look.

Looking at his from his peripheral vision, “Lyla, how long have you known about this anomaly?” His voice was calm with a hint of knowing and depth. The pixels assistant chuckled, her guilt was evident.

“Well you see– Miguel, it’s” she stammered.

“Lyla…” Miguel said sternly.

“Three to Four weeks”

“Three to Fo– How does that make any sense! A month? You know the damages this anomaly could have caused to that multiverse!” He lectured. Everyone knew the damage but how could an innocent woman who was blissfully unaware of how out of place she was cause so much harm and how!?

“Miguel, I only did it to watch her and study her. She lives an normal life, she not even a superhero of ANY kind.” Lyla argued. In her defense, the system glitched when it detected this woman which cause Lyla to doubt if she should warn Miguel immediately. Instead she did her own research. He glared at her still not seeming to loosen up.

“She was born September 16, 1998, she was raised by her mother and grandmother. Her father died while serving in the military months before she was even born.” A pixelated sweat droplet rolled down her forehead. She didn’t not want Miguel to put her on “do not disturb” like he did last time. It was absolutely torture.

Miguel sighed in defeat, placing his thump and pointer finger on the bridge of his nose, “Dios, dame fuerza, okay, what is her name?” He scrolls through the anomalies file, not seeing a name.

“Willow-Dean Jones” She said proudly.

“…..Willow what?” Miguel twisted his face, it was an odd name, and not unique odd though it was unique, more like weirdly odd.

“Willow-Dean Jones”

“So Dean is her middle name—“

“No, it’s her first name–“

“I’m not understanding.”

“It’s a double— a double name have you not heard of double names?”

“Yes but her name is already odd—I don’t understand the point of a double— WHATEVER!” His frustration and annoyance was obviously, he typed her name into the file.

Lyla was excited, “Yay, are you bringing her here?”

“Where else would I bring her?”

“Yes! Finally, some female company, though Jessica is lovely, she is pregnant and sleep most of the time, and—“ She looked at Miguel with a smirk, “Possible a new lady friend for—“

“No” He replied quickly

“—you and it gonna be so much fun, we can talk about girl stuff and then We talk about—“ Lyla chattered ignoring the brooding spider.

“Lyla. No–“

“–how mean you are and– oh, maybe you two can get married!”

“Lyla– for heaven sake, I’m 32!”

“That is only a seven year differe—“

Miguel had reluctantly put her on “do not disturb” which he knew she despised but anything to get her to stop specking about the anomaly with the weird name.

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Click here for tag list (put you tumblr name)

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x black reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut

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theemissuniverse · 7 months

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“REMEMBER ME” RAIDEN X FEM!READER

SUMMARY : Shang Tsung took your memory away of Raiden so Raiden slowly starts to help you remember him. But when you do remember him, you can’t help but be upset

WARNINGS : slight angst i think but it’s a happy ending

When you and Raiden were thirteen, the two of you sat in a field of flowers. Raiden had always been a gentleman so he picked the most beautiful daisy for you and placed it behind your ear.

You giggled at the action and kissed his cheek. His face turned red at the action but he smiled.

It was a peaceful day despite circumstances. Your parents were getting a divorce and you obviously were not happy about it. “One day, I hope I get married and have a big wedding.” You said.

Raiden gently took your hand and looked you straight in the eyes. “One day I hope I can marry you.”

You were a little shocked by this statement but chose to laugh it off. “Aw, that’s sweet Raiden.”

“I mean it. You are the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.”

“Surely, you don��t mean it. We’re only thirteen.”

“I still love you. I love you like a man loves a woman.”

You were stunned by this confession. Instead, you placed a hand over his knee. “I’ll tell you what, if I’m not married by the time I’m like…twenty five…then you and I can get married.”

Raiden smiled sweetly at you. “You better keep your end of the deal. But when we kiss, it has to be romantic. Like kissing in the rain.”

You giggled at this request. “All right. Deal.”

Raiden was in a state of depression and it was all Shang Tsung’s fault. He took away everything. Everything that made him good.

He could not possibly live on. Not without you. You were his everything. Everything that made him whole.

Part of his evil plan, Shang Tsung took your memories away of Raiden. Now you knew him as nothing. Nothing but a man with thunder powers.

Armageddon was over and it was time for everyone to return back to their normal lives. Normal lives? How could he go back to normal when the love of his life shared no memory of him?

He was not only angry with the spell that was casted on you but he was angry with himself. He never got to tell you he loved you. That was the most bone crushing feeling.

Raiden was helping Madam Bo clean up. He swept the floors trying to make sure every spot was nice and tidy.

That’s when you walked in. Beautiful as ever. You placed the blue mug full of tea on the table. “Here you go, Raiden. I made your favorite. Green tea.”

He sighed some and grabbed the mug. “Thanks (Y/N).” He said and just when he was about to take a sip of it, something sparked in his mind. You knew what his favorite tea was.

Raiden took a sip. It was made perfect. Just the way he liked it. When he saw you about to walk away, he set the mug down and walked in front of you. “Hey, how’d you know I like my tea like that?”

You stumbled a little. You couldn’t remember or think of why. You just sort of knew. Like it was instinct. “I don’t know I guess I sort of just…know.”

That’s when Raiden started to have hope again.

So, Raiden took you to your guys’s favorite spots. He had only hoped that some memory would spark in you. Each and every place made you remember bits and pieces.

Although you couldn’t remember Raiden, there was something about Raiden that made you feel safe. You felt loved. He was trying his best to make you remember him.

Raiden was gentle and kind. A man that when you were a little girl, you had only hoped for to get.

And that made you fall in love with him all over again.

You and Raiden were on a picnic date. (It was never said it was a date but it was quite obvious it was.) You noticed something around his neck. It was a necklace. A necklace that you used to wear.

You touched the necklace slightly. “I used to wear this?”

Raiden was only shocked a little that you remembered this but he smiled none the less. “Yes. I wear it to honor you every day.”

The statement made you smile. You placed your hand down and looked at him, taking in all his beauty. “You’re so wonderful to me.”

“I try.” Raiden slightly said with a tease before taking out some chocolates and feeding you one. “These are your favorite.”

You open your mouth to receive the chocolate. Honestly it was a little overwhelming that a man knew you so much and you knew him so little. You two made it work though.

You felt like you had to confess to him your feelings. “Raiden, I have to tell you something.”

Raiden goes to fix the hat that was on his head. “What is it, lovely?”

He had a habit of calling you that. You hoped that it was because he felt something more than a friendship with you. “These last couple weeks have been amazing. There are little bits that I remember of you but I can’t remember you fully. You still have been at my side despite circumstances.”

Raiden gave you a genuine smile. He held your hand. “I would never leave you.”

That gave you some reassurance. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Did he hear you right? He felt his throat start to close up. He was so shocked he swore he would faint. He removed his hand from yours and stared in the distance as if to try and make sense of it.

Now that didn’t reassure you at all. You frowned slightly and sat up. “Like really. I think I-“

Raiden immediately shook his head. “No, no. You’re not. It’s okay to be confused.”

Well that hurt. “I’m not confused. Do you not love me back?”

Raiden didn’t mean to but he laughed at the question like it was the most idiotic question. “Do I love you? I’ve loved you since we were kids. I’ve dreamt of this moment but this isn’t the way. The real you wouldn’t want to be with me.”

You placed your hand on his back. “How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

He was wrong. Before the memory had wiped away, you did love him with everything in you. And one day that would all prove to be true.

Raiden was again helping Madam Bo with cleaning. While he was doing this a woman he did not recognize walked over to him.

She was a a beautiful woman in retrospect but Raiden did not care for her beauty as maybe other men would.

The woman stands in front of him as he sweeps. When he notices a figure standing before him, he looks up and sees her. Then offers her a smile. “Hello.”

The woman popped on her bubblegum as she spoke. “Do they make all the cute boys sweep or just you?”

Raiden was slightly taken back at this. Women didn’t really go out of their way to flirt with him. However, he wasn’t interested as he already had feelings for one woman on his mind. Though, he was still trying to be polite. “I suppose so…” He continues to clean, not looking at her.

The woman seemed to be stunned that Raiden was not flirting with her back. “Well. I’m Korisha.”

Raiden didn’t really want to continue conversation but he was a gentleman and wanted to remain as polite as possible. “I’m Raiden. I hope your lunch was enjoyable.”

You watched from afar as the girl flirted with Raiden. It didn’t sit right with you. You were angry. Very angry but tried to keep your composure. You couldn’t hear the conversation though so you were just going based on body language.

“It was…but I bet something else would be enjoyable…” The woman took a step forward to him.

Raiden started to feel uncomfortable. He scratched the back of his neck before giving out an awkward laugh. “I don’t know about that…”

Again, the woman was stunned. “Huh…you must either have a girlfriend or you’re gay.”

Raiden went wide by the assumption, almost coughing at it. “Um…no. Not at all, ma’am. I’m just not interested.”

Korisha seemed appalled by the idea a man did not want her. “Well, okay.” She took out a piece of paper and handed it to him. “Here’s my number in case you change your mind.” Then she walked away.

You were, in fact, enraged. Keep all in mind, you did not hear the conversation. All you had seen was Raiden “accept” a phone number from a woman that you had thought to be even more beautiful than you were.

Raiden looked at the phone number and shook his head before looking around the area. He had seen you and smiled. “Hey, (Y/N).”

Suddenly, a flow of memories came to your head. Every laugh, every lie, every hug. Everything you knew about Raiden came and overwhelmed you in every possible way.

Tears slid down your cheeks. Raiden’s face was full of concern. “(Y/N)?” You didn’t bother to reply back to him. You just left.

Raiden dropped the paper and broom in his hands. Then followed you out of the restaurant. “(Y/N), wait!”

You had gotten pretty far. You were so upset that you tried to cross the street when a car was coming.

Raiden immediately grabbed you and pulled you back on the sidewalk. Not without the car honking at you when they past.

You felt the breath get knocked out of your lungs. Raiden examined you to make sure you were okay. “Are you alright, (Y/N)? You almost got hit.”

Rage consumed your body. How dare he try to be with a girl after you had confessed your feelings for him? Not only that but you had been in love with him all your life come to find out.

You smacked Raiden across the face. Raiden was taken aback. It only stung a little. He felt his cheek a little with his eyes squinted.

“You told me the real me would have never loved you. Guess what you jackass, I do. I remember everything about you.”

The sudden statement made Raiden’s eyes wide. He had completely forgotten you were in rage and had a smile on his face. “You remember me?”

He tried to grab your hands but you smacked him again. This hurt more than last time. “Ow…” He mumbled lightly.

“What was all that talk? That you’ve been in love with me forever? Huh? Oh wait no. That had to be just out of pity right? Because why did you take that girl’s number?”

Raiden now realized what the problem was. He immediately tried to deny this. “No, no. I tried to tell her to go away but she wasn’t budging-“

“Did me confessing my feelings for you mean nothing to you? You had to do it in my face?”

“(Y/N)-“

You started to smack his chest repeatedly. You tried to shove him away from you. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

Raiden didn’t waste any time. He cupped your face and pulled you into a passionate kiss. The sudden drum of his chest began to fade. You stood there feeling frozen.

Even though you were completely angry at him, you couldn’t help but kiss him back. Your hands instantly went to the back of his neck, pulling him deeper.

Raiden pulled away. He rubbed away all your frustrated tears. “Do you remember when we were thirteen and you told me that when you turn twenty five, if you are not married by then, then you would marry me?”

The memory hit you like brick. It was a wonderful memory of the two of you. It instantly made you forget your anger at him. “Yes. Why?”

“Well you’re twenty six and you got to hold your end of the bargain.” He joked lightly. “(Y/N), I love you more than life itself. It ate me up inside when Shang Tsung erased your memories of me. I did not think I could…I could live with myself after that.”

You caressed his face and prayed to yourself to stay like this forever. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I wish to be with you for the rest of my life.”

Before you could get a word out, it started raining. The two of you looked at the sky. The clouds had darkened without the two of you noticing.

Raiden then smiled at the memory before looking back at you. “You still owe me a rain kiss.”

You smiled, remembering you promised you would kiss him in the rain. You leaned in and your lips met his.

The kiss was more passionate this time. The two of you longed for this. Finally, you two had it.

Forever.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #liu kang #mortal kombat 1 #kitana #kung lao #mileena #raiden #johnny cage #mk #sub zero #raiden x reader #shang tsung #mk 1 #mk 1 x reader

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beanghostprincess · 4 months

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Just thinking about ASL living together (modern AU) and Ace always trying to sneak Yamato inside their house without Sabo's knowledge because he doesn't want him to go all 'responsible older brother' on him. But the reason why he's always letting Yamato stay over is because his life at home is obviously... Not so good and he hates being there so he tries to spend most of his time outside. And Ace's heart aches every time he has to let him go, so he often lets him stay over. It becomes more constant and less of a 'sneaking in for a while' thing. And Sabo knows. Because of course, Sabo knows. Sabo always knows what's going on. One day he wakes up to see Yamato having breakfast and Yamato gets all anxious and not knowing what to say and trying to make an excuse (because that's what Ace told him to do if this ever happened) and Sabo is just like "Do you want anything else?" / "Huh? What?" / "I mean. You're eating cereal but we have more stuff in here, you know? At least one of us can cook. What do you want? I can make you pancakes." / "YOU KNOW HOW TO MAKE PANCAKES???????" / "Oh my god, what has my brother been feeding you in here???" / "Mostly leftovers." / "Dude, why are you still with him?" / "Because I love him!" / "Yeah, no, me too. I guess love makes you do stupid things like dealing with a fucking moron like him. Anyway- Pancakes?"

And then Ace wakes up to find his brother and his boyfriend actually getting along and laughing and having breakfast together, and he needs a second to process everything because he's tired as fuck and maybe he's hallucinating. But that doesn't matter because the point is that he's fucked.

Ace: ..... Hi? Sabo: Hey :) Ace: What are you two doing? Yamato: WE'RE HAVING BREAKFAST :D Ace: Yes, babe, I can see that. Why are you here, Sabo? I thought you were- Sabo: I got home last night from college. We have some days off. Now, care to explain why you've been treating your cool boyfriend like a dog instead of giving him actual meals? Ace: I- You're not angry? Sabo: Oh, no. I am angry. Can't you see I'm angry? Ace: Sometimes you give me mixed signals and I'm never sure...? Sabo: I'm angry. That clear enough? Ace: Yes. Yamato: Okay, so Sabo is the only person that scares you. That's good to know. Ace: OH SHUT UP HE DOESN'T SCARE ME I AM NOT AFRAID OF MY BROTHER Sabo: Ace. Ace: ... I'm sorry.

Then, Sabo takes Ace to a more private place in the house and expects an explanation from him and Ace can't keep the secret anymore. So he tells him about Yamato's dad and how he is not a good person and he's always keeping him locked and making his life a living hell. And Ace is literally begging Sabo to let him stay for a while and Sabo is just staring at him like "Why would I not let him? How could I not? Do you see me as some kind of controlling demon around this house or what?" / "I mean, you're kind of scary sometimes-" / "Because you don't do shit around here and when I left for college I expected you to take care of Luffy. But I'm not making Yamato leave! What the fuck, Ace? You should've told me." / "I just- I just don't want him to go back there. He's, like, the nicest guy I've ever known. He's just so good, Sabo. I don't want him to-" / "Yeah. Yeah. He's the love of your life and you're gonna get married and have a fairytale ending or some bullshit like that." / "I did NOT say that." / "But you love him. I'm not letting him stay over if you're not serious about this. We barely have money for us three and we're lucky I can go to college." / "... I know. I know. I do. I do, you know. Like. The L word. You know I can't say it." / "Idiot." / "You're so mean to me. You don't do this shit to Luffy." / "Because at least Luffy has the decency of telling me when his friends are coming over." / "That's what you think." / "What? / "Nothing."

So, long story short, Yamato has the chance to actually live with them for a while if he wants to. Of course, he can't do it permanently. But he knows he has a home there if he ever feels like leaving his own house.

#sabo is a fucking liar he only knows how to cook because koala taught him #and also sabo is a fucking mess too he just says he isn't but he is #sorry now i am thinking about yamato and ace cuddling at night and i'm very sad because i love them and i think we should talk more about i #the hurt/comfort potential of this ship #one piece #portgas d. ace #revolutionary sabo #asl brothers #yamato #yamace

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avelera · 1 year

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I know that the Gaiman "word of God" on Dream of the Endless's romantic history is, "He has had many more lovers than the ones we see" with regards to Killalla, Alianora, Nada, Calliope, and Thessaly (ugh) and as someone who will absolutely incorporate word-of-god canon , it's the height of hypocrisy to just dismiss this.

And I will accept that probably Dream has had some sexual encounters outside those five canonical relationships, like the implied Lucifer and Titania flings.

But I just can't escape the sense that the whole, "Oh yeah, he's had tons of other lovers like, just loads of them, believe me, the dude is definitely not billions of years old and only had a half dozen romantic encounters all of which ended in tears, that would be crazy, right??" is just more... something a dude would say about their super cool dude character?

Because I personally like to, in this one instance, rigidly stick to canon as we see it on the page. And that canon is: Dream was deeply lonely and never even officially hit a half-dozen long-term lovers in his life and he only married once. He is a divorcee and he is sad and he is lonely and he would love to find someone to be with and be in a relationship and just continuously eluded him. And our evidence for this? The Wake.

We have some of Dream's past lovers show up at the Wake. Bastet specifically notes that they could have been lovers, probably should have been, but it never happened. Titania implies a relationship but won't say anything more and obviously it was not long-lasting romantically speaking, whatever it was.

But basically, if we take the Wake as an on-the-page canonical account of the living beings who were Dream's lovers and who had enough of a connection to actually show up, it's still a depressingly small number for so long a life, for a character who is defined by his romanticism and loneliness. Even if we say, give or take, there might have been a few more, none of those after Nada could be mortal, so we can't just say they're all dead. That means the other immortal lovers either didn't show up or didn't bother to speak. And sure, if there's other immortals in the mix, sure, we could "Doylist" say the comic just doesn't have room for them all but really, to me, the more compelling take is... there just weren't that many for Dream, and that it's deeply sad. Some of it was, yes, his own fault, probably a lot of it. But it's still sad.

And more importantly, it's a more interesting character. Anyone can say their stupidly powerful godlike character who is beautiful and magical and can craft dreams and stories and is this Byronic hero of poetry and darkness is also someone who had a bunch of romantic partners and can definitely hook up with anyone he wants, psshh, obviously but... a character who is all those things and can't get this one major part of their life together to the extent that he's demonstrated to want a loving partner which he is repeatedly shown to want, is just... it's a certain kind of unique for that character and I'm here for it.

#the sandman #sandman meta #dream of the endless #and this is why i ship him with Hob as a soulmate lol #because I'm also a romantic #and I like to believe there is someone out there for him in the most unlikely of places #and by unlikely I mean MOST LIKELY OF PLACES Dream he's YOUR BEST FRIEND #WHAT DO YOU THINK A RELATIONSHIP IS?? EXCEPT A PERSON YOU LIKE TO SPEND TIME WITH THE MOST??#anyway Dream upsets me lol look at his life look at his choices I want to hit him with a baguette

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pippin-katz · 7 months

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I can’t find it, but there was a post that asked what your favorite change from the book to the film was, and I have decided on mine!

I love that they are older in the movie.

Matthew mentioned changing it to make it feel more like the first “real love” of their lives and not something that could be written off as “puppy love”. I totally get what he means, and I completely agree with the decision.

“I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you.” - Alex Claremont-Diaz, pg. 312

It’s a really beautiful line, but it does make me pause for a moment. Alex is only 22 at this point. As much as I believe him, the vast majority of the population does not fall in love that young and stay with that person for the rest of their life.

Alex isn’t directly referring to marriage here, obviously, but that’s the next step of their relationship if they were confident and ready to.

There’s a reason so many marriages that are made at that age range result in divorces. I’m 22 at the moment, and the idea of getting married to someone, whether I think I “feel forever” about them or not, fucking boggles my mind; I don’t think there’s any circumstances where I would agree to marry someone at my age. A marriage this young is just begging to fall apart.

I mean, we refer to college students, most of whom are in the early 20s age group, as college kids. Alex is still finishing college during the book, while in the film, he’s already completed his initial college degree and has moved forward to law school.

Adult audiences know this too, so a line like this coming from a 22-year-old would likely make them roll their eyes. Their thoughts would be: “You’re practically still a kid, you have no idea what your future will be like. You’re going to change, they’re going to change, and you can’t know that your relationship will work with all that.”

And they’re right, and I agree.

But if an almost 30-year-old makes that statement? That’s far more believable!

And I know some people might be thinking: “Early 20s to late 20s isn’t that big of a gap.”

While that’s true in the grand scheme of a lifetime, a lot can happen in six-seven years. I mean, just look at where the world was back in 2018 compared to where it is now! A person can change a lot in that time.

Regardless, Alex and Henry being closer to thirty rather than twenty serves their love story really well. The level of commitment they are agreeing to feels believable, and like they could actually do it.

P.S. - this isn’t to say that I have a problem with them being younger in the book; I find both versions fantastic in their uniqueness.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb book #rwrb thoughts

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andysorbit · 1 year

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Dinner (M)

CEO!Doyoung x fem housewife!reader

Warnings: daddy kink, snowballing, fingering, some angst?, sex against a counter, light dirty talk

"I didn't get a chance to pick up your order from Target," You say quietly.

Dinner is awkward. That's the only thing you can count on for sure these days; sitting down for dinner with Doyoung will be quiet.

You stopped eating on the sofa together, you stopped laughing together, and his job became more demanding, so you stopped cooking together.

"It's fine. I was really hungry, so uh... I definitely preferred this over some shirts and socks. Thanks, Y/n," Doyoung says with a smile.

You've been married for only three years, yet it feels like a lifetime. It's gotten boring. He's boring.

"When did you stop falling in love with me?" You ask him.

Doyoung looks up from his empty dish, "I- what?" he says incredulously.

"What am I doing wrong? I cook, I stopped working, I... I'm giving you everything you want but you're clearly not happy with me. What am I doing wrong?" You press as you try to stop the tremble in your voice from breaking through.

"That's just it... you're doing all of this, and I know you don't want to... I didn't know how to approach the situation, but Ten told me how you're really feeling... I thought you'd be happier... I still love you, Y/n, I'm just embarrassed."

Doyoung drops his head down for a moment and sighs,

"Everyone else is happy with their husbands, and I was stupid enough to think I could tame you into living a lie, and I'm sorry. I'm really sorry," he says.

You watch him stare down at his plate, and you frown, "Tame me?" You say incredulously.

He nods,

"Yeah... tame you. You're wild and busy and social, and I... I put you in a cage and pretended like I gave you a say in it... you don't deserve this, but I still love you, and I've never stopped. I was just..."

Doyoung shakes his head and looks back up at you. He obviously wants to cry but he pushes past it.

"I was afraid you had started hating me and I think that... having this really awkward and boring marriage is better than talking about it and hearing you tell me you that want to leave me because you've finally had enough."

He says and stands up, "I'll clean up tonight. You go and relax. We can talk and figure something out tomorrow but tonight I just wanna be with you. I need you to smile and mean it. I don't wanna be the reason you feel this way. We can talk just... please don't leave me."

"Leave you?" You say softly, "I could never leave you. I love you too much. I just need to feel like we used to."

He begins clearing the table, "I wanna... I wanna fuck you like I used to. Don't you miss that?" he reaches out with his free hand to take yours. His eyes search yours and you smile, "Let's work together and get done faster. We'll have more time together." You say and Doyoung shakes his head,

"Fuck the dishes, fuck everything. Just... come here," he says as he pulls you up to your feet.

He presses a warm kiss to your lips and you melt against him, "How could you think I don't love you?" he mumbles against your mouth, "I always brag about how smart you are and you've been such a little dummy."

He taps your forehead and laughs before kissing you again.

His hands ease down your back ever so slowly.

You chuckle, "I... I'm sorry," You moan as his hands grip your ass. "I'm sorry. Don't you apologize. Don't you dare," he says.

You lose yourself in the feel of his hands gently kneeding the softness of your body. "Doie... I'm not glass. Come on," You pant.

Doyoung brings a hand up to softly caress your face. His eyes are scared and wild, "But it's been so long Y/n. I... I feel like I'll really hurt you." he whispers.

"I can tell you if you do. Don't limit yourself before we've even started. Just please... get out of your own head." You tell him with a reassuring smile.

He leads you into the kitchen, "I want you right here." he whispers as he presses you against the counter and his hands grab at your thighs. "We haven't done this since..." You trail off with a gasp as he separates your thighs.

"Since my promotion and you.... were my naughty little secretary who just couldn't control herself and needed to be fucked. That was ages ago... back when we could've gotten into so much trouble if my father found out what I was doing to you," Doyoung's fingers ease your nightgown up.

You had stopped looking good for him so long ago and the hemline of your gowns had gotten lower.

"And you tease me with these long fucking nightgowns..." he trails off and ruts himself against you.

You perk up, "You like my nightgowns?" You ask him.

"God... you look so good in them. So beautiful and lush... you're always such a pretty little thing," he replies.

You palm him through his pajama pants and tease his cock slowly, "You always found the weirdest things sexy... I was going for a sexless marriage look," You chuckle.

Doyoung laughs, "You think someone like you could ever pull off something sexless? You're a fucking goddess, Y/n. Even when you're trying to be otherwise, you're sexy." He crushes his lips against yours and kisses you so greedily that you whine into his mouth.

He breaks the kiss and eases a hand between your thighs, "Is this pussy still mine? Huh, baby?" he asks softly. You nod eagerly, "Of course," You whimper, "Still belongs to you, daddy. Take it... please," You plead.

Doyoung's eyes are intense, nervous, and loving as he slides his hand into your panties, "So wet... fuck, babe. Does that feel good?" he moans against your mouth. You nod, "Daddy... God, yes. I love it," You whine.

His fingers tease your clit softly, "S'been so long since I got to feel this wet little cunt... have you been making yourself cum without me?" he asks. "Yeah, daddy... but... I think a- fuck... I think about... your... fingers and I cum so... so fucking hard, daddy."

Doyoung smiles, "You still think about me," he says more to himself. His fingers speed up before slowing down again. You want so badly to tell him that no matter how difficult things become for the both of you, he'll always be a reason for you to touch yourself.

You try to tell him but the words bind together like wads of cotton on your tongue, so instead, you just whimper his name. "Gonna take this pussy right here... are gonna give it to daddy? Huh, baby?" he says as he cups your pussy in his hand. You nod and writhe against him, "Please... daddy, please," Your whines draw him in for a hot open-mouthed kiss and you both wrestle to get the drawstring of his sweatpants undone.

As you push his pants down, he brings your hand down to stroke his cock slowly. You nod again, too drunk on the taste of his mouth dancing across your tongue.

He pulls back and grabs you by the back of your neck,

"Tongue out."

You obey and watch as he pools spit to the front of his mouth before he drops a fat wad of it into your mouth.

Your body shivers and you swallow with a satisfied hum.

"God... you kill me," he groans.

He grips your left thigh and you wrap your leg around his waist. You pant as he slides into you, "Daddy... yes."

Doyoung fucks into and as your hips collide, he unbuttons your nightgown to expose your bare tits to him.

He gives them a slap before squeezing them, "Still daddy's little slut? Huh? Are you still daddy's little fuck toy, baby?" he grunts.

You kiss him, "Yes, daddy!"

He stretches you just right and your eyes meet with his. You watch him drop his gaze down to where his cock is sliding into you and his eyes flutter shut, "That's my girl... gonna cum for me?" he gasps.

Once again, you nod and he snakes a hand down to finger your throbbing clit,

"My little whore. Cum for me."

Your thighs shake and you grip his shoulders, "Daddy, daddy, daddy... fuck!" You cry out.

Doyoung eases out of you and pushes you down to your knees.

"Keep your mouth open and look at me, baby... just like that. Good girl," he says as you do as you're told. He strokes himself desperately and his eyes dance back and forth between your eyes, your mouth, and your tits.

It doesn't take him long to cum and as he does does, he slides the head of his cock into your mouth, "Don't swallow yet... just hold it there."

You savor the taste of his cum as he pulls you back up to him. His tongue pries your mouth open. He licks into your mouth as you share his cum. You body tingles and he hums as you both swap it back and forth; he keeps you close to him and it's just like old times.

His hand grip your ass as you both become more and more grounded. He smiles and licks into your mouth once more before you both swallow what's left.

"I love you," he says, "I never stopped. Never will stop... I couldn't even if I wanted to. Do you understand me?"

You nod, "I love you too." You whisper back.

End note: thank my sativa vape for this one

#neoculturecollectives #nct smut #nct #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #kpop smut #doyoung smut #doyoung #sativa inspo #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #kpop #ambw nct #ambw smut #nct ambw #sativa collection #nct x plus sized reader #nct x black!reader #kpop smut for black girls

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rxmqnova · 8 months

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Step-sisters

Y/N: 16 years old Nat: 18 years old Wanda: 16 years old Yelena: 16 years old Story: Y/N and Nat broke up when Y/N's dad and Natasha's mom announced their engagement… ——————————————————

Y/N'S POV When my dad announced me that he was getting married, I was shocked. If he's not at work, he's usually just home watching TV or something. So I have no idea where did he meet Melina.

I want only the best for my father and I would be really happy for him if Melina wasn't my girlfriend's mother. Natasha and I had only been dating for a month when my dad told me his soon to-be-wife will be moving in with us along with her daughters.

When I saw Natasha standing on our porch with a suitcase, my world fell apart. My feeling were… still are too strong for the redhead, but because faith decided to mess with us, we can't be together. We're step-sisters now.

It all would be somehow okay if Natasha wouldn't have her new girlfriend over every time our parents leave the house. I know I shouldn't have these feelings, but every time I see Maria near Natasha, jealousy takes over me and I better spend the rest of the day alone in my room.

Dad and Melina are out of the town for a few days, so right now I'm in the living room, cuddled up to my cousin and best friend Wanda on the couch while watching a movie. Wanda and I have always had such a strong relationship, we're more like sisters and we know everything about each other.

"You guys are so annoying" Yelena groans, flopping on the couch next to us. "If Natasha and her girlfriend aren't occupying the TV then you and your girlfriend occupy the TV. I want to watch TV too" Yelena complains with a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Wanda's not my-" I start, but Wanda cuts me off by covering my mouth with her hand so I couldn't speak.

"We're sorry, Yelena. How about Y/N/N and I go upstairs, so you can watch TV?" Wanda offers, her hand still covering my mouth. "Right, my love?" She asks, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I give her a confused look, not because her kissing my forehead, we do that all the time, but because her acting like we're dating. Wanda gives me a stern look which tells me to better agree with her.

"Mhm" I nod. "Sure, we can go upstairs" I smile, handing Yelena the remote, getting a 'thanks' from her in response.

Wanda interlocks our fingers while walking all the way from the living room to my bedroom upstairs. Of course we have to bump into Maria and Natasha on the stairs.

"Babe, we could go to the cinema tonight. How does that sound?" Wanda asks, looking at me.

"Hm. Sure" I answer, remaining confused, but Natasha's look was worth it.

As soon as I close the door of my room, I turn to Wanda who's comfortably sat on my bed by now.

"Okay. Wands, you know I love you, but we're cousins and it's just… gross" I tell her immediately, Wanda looking at me with an amused look.

"You're such an idiot sometimes, Y/N" She chuckles. "Natasha's looking daggers at me every time I come near you. She obviously still has feelings for you and the fact that they think we're dating will only make Natasha jealous and fight for you" Wanda explains.

"Wanda, how many times have I told you that Nat and I just can't be together. We're sisters and it's just weird" I sigh, flopping on the bed next to her.

"Step, you're step-sisters, Y/N. You're not related by blood, it's legal. Plus, I see how much you love her, so as your cousin AND your best friend, it's my duty to get you two back together" Wanda smiles.

"I really appreciate that, Wands, but-" I start, but she cuts me off.

"No buts, Y/N" She tilts her head which is my sign to shut up.

"Fine" I sigh.

———————————

Dad and Melina are coming home today which means Maria will finally leave and I won't have to spend days locked in my room.

"I'll see you at school" I smile at Wanda, walking her to the door. She stayed here over the entire weekend, playing on my girlfriend in front of Natasha, Maria and Yelena. I'm still not sure about this, but I've learnt to listen to Wanda, cause she's always right.

"See you tomorrow" She kisses my cheek as Natasha's with Maria behind us. "I love you"

"I love you too" I wave her goodbye and Wanda is gone, soon followed by Maria.

I make my way to the kitchen, taking a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water.

"So you're with Wanda now?" Natasha asks, also taking a glass and filling it with water.

"Yeah. Is anything wrong with that?" I ask before taking a sip of my water.

"… No. Not at all" Natasha clears her throat before answering. The way how tightly she's holding the glass tells me otherwise though, maybe Wanda was right and her plan is starting to work.

I place my glass on the counter, taking Natasha's from her hand as I really don't want it to break and cut her hands from how strong her grip over the glass is.

"Break up with her" Natasha blurts out. I knew how much jealous she can get and honestly I find it quite hot on her, but Wanda and I have only been playing on girlfriends for 2 days.

"What?" I laugh out, sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Break up with Wanda" She repeats, moving to stand right in front of me and putting her hands on the kitchen counter on each side of my thighs, trapping me there.

"And why would I do that?" I ask, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Because I can't see you with her, Y/N" Natasha sighs, her gaze at me softening.

"At least you know how I feel about you and Maria" I sigh. "Natasha, I still have feelings for you" I admit, playing with the rings on my fingers. "It hurts me to see you with her"

"You were the one who broke up with me, Y/N" She sighs.

"Because we're sisters now, Nat" I sigh, now playing with Natasha's arrow necklace. "But I just can't help myself and think about you all the time" I rest my forehead on hers, hoping she won't push me away and will say the same thing.

"Fuck, who am I kidding? I have feelings for you too. I started dating Maria, because I was trying to get you jealous" Natasha sighs.

"Would you… maybe… want to try it again? And go on a date with me?" I ask, shutting my eyes close and hoping for a 'yes'. Natasha nods her head slowly, breathing out a 'yeah' and wrapping her arms around me, hiding her head in the crock of my neck. I smile, pressing my lips to her forehead before wrapping my arms around her neck, hugging my redhead tightly.

It's safe to say that Wanda's plan worked and I have to thank her for that. I don't know how Nat and I will tell our parents if we start dating again, but hopefully they'll take it well. Maybe Nat and I could ask Wanda for help once I tell Natasha Wanda's my cousin and not my girlfriend…

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

Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Masterlist

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #fanfiction #natasha x y/n #wanda maximoff #yelena belova #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female

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captaincapsicle83 · 2 months

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At First Sight ○○ Bucky Barnes x reader

Pairings: Natasha x reader (platonic), Wanda x reader (platonic), Clinton x reader (platonic), Bucky x reader

Plot: Your roommates set you up on a date with their coworker, and you two hit it off right away. (Most of this story is silly little platonic fun, but I like it anyway).

(The little gif of him drinking water is funnier after you read the story)

“He has a cat.”

“Well, whoop-di-do,” You huff monotonously. Wanda scrunches up her nose at you, before sighing and shaking her head.

“I think you should go,” She says. You risk rolling your eyes, even though she could very well kill you, then and there.

“‘I think you should go’” You say, making your voice go higher, in a mocking tone. “If he’s so great, you go. I have a ton of work to do.”

Just last year, you landed a teaching position. It had been in May, and you were given hardly any time at all to prep. School started again in a week, and even though you’d been preparing loosely all summer, this week you were locked in.

So why the hell did Wanda need you to go on a stupid date?

“If you don’t go, there’s a good chance you’ll die alone,” She crosses her arms, eyebrows raised.

“You’re here, and so is Natasha,” You point out, finally putting your laptop to the side, and uncrossing your legs, stretching them out.

“What about when we go get married and have lives, and have jobs, and you just…die of boredom,” What was this a Sims game? Was she gonna lock you in a room with a radio next? Put the walls up around a pool?

“Clint’ll be here. Poor little shit’s never getting married. No one wants the little scrapper,” You pull your coffee mug to your lips. You must’ve left it idle longer than intended, because instead of warm, silky, and smooth, it was starkly cold, and felt thin beyond your lips.

“You want him?” Her eyes were annoyed, but her face was bemused.

“He’s low maintenance,” You shrug.

“Who?” Someone says, coming through the front door with an armload of groceries, and a red-haired friend behind them. While Clint had about ten plastic bags of things, Natasha sipped an iced coffee from a straw, looking awfully unbothered.

“Why does she still look homeless Wanda?” Nat questioned. “You said you were gonna drag her kicking and screaming.”

“We were getting there.”

Four people in one New York apartment, in upper Manhatten. It was expensive as high hell, but you all made it work.

So why am I gonna put my job on hold for something stupid as this-

You’re sitting on Wanda’s bed, Natasha’s fingers in your hair, Wanda in her closet, and Clint tasked with the job of “make-up artist”.

“I have my hobbies.”

You’re just about at the end of your rope with them, Wanda picking something out and Clint huffing and puffing that it doesn’t go with the look he’s going for, Natasha yelling at both of them like children. Finally, the timer that means, “We better be ready now or we’re gonna be late” sounds off. Wanda’s best idea today, the worst being, obviously…

Natasha and Wanda have tickets for an art gallery opening, so they’re both driving you, Clint tagging along for “moral support.” Groans were elicited.

Natasha was giving you a run down the whole way there.

“He’s a little quiet at first,” She says.

“Good thing you’re not,” Clint whispers to you.

“I don’t know if he’ll get there first, or not, but he’s got dark hair and will probably be wearing dark clothes, he does around the office all the time.”

“Emo bo-” Clint cuts himself off from his whisper, snapping to Natasha. “He works with us.”

“Yes.”

Silence…

“Well, who is it?” Clint asks, rather boisterously.

“…No.”

“No?” Clint, clearly offended, turns to you. “What’s his name?”

Your mouth opens, before shutting again, realizing no one had told you. You lean forward in the backseat.

“Who is it, Nat?”

“You’ll see.”

“No-” “Nuh-uh!” You and Clint both protest.

“I’ve been to your guys’ office I wanna know,” you say.

“Better pray it’s Steve,” Clint says.

“Oh, Natasha it better be Steve.”

Natasha turns around in the passenger seat, to face you and Clint in the back.

“Steve is engaged,” She starts.

“Yeah, so?” Clint says, and the car is quiet for a moment. When you make eye contact with Clint’s green eyes, the silence is cut by both of your laughter.

Unfortunately, this put a dent in the interrogation, and now you were outside of the diner. Your friends had told you good luck and left you here. You did notice Natasha whisper something to Clint as you got out, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. She covered his mouth and basically strangled him down when he tried to tell you.

Since they were gone…no one could force you to go in…

You couldn’t do that. Morally, you would feel horrible to just leave whoever this is sitting alone, waiting for you.

And the girls might evict you.

You walked through the doors of the diner. The diner was a cute little place, albeit a strange theme. It was based on Norse Mythology, called “Odin’s Sons.”

You were greeted by a blonde man, who was the hostess. You told him you were here to meet a date and he broke out into a smile. He said a man had arrived just a little while ago, here to wait for a date.

He led you to a table, where you were greeted by-

before

“I think you’ll like it,” Sam was saying. He was helping his friend, coworker, and roommate, get ready for a date Sam had set up for him.

“Who is she again?” Bucky asked, his voice strained.

“You don’t know her, but she’s Nat and Clint’s friend. She’s in some of the pictures on Clint’s stupid little desk of picture frames,” Bucky rolled his eyes at the mention of the pictures. Clint took many unauthorized pictures of Bucky himself (among others) and they ended up in frames. Clint claimed that, being an art major, and having taken many photography classes, he had the ultimate right.

As Sam described what you looked like, Bucky felt like he did sorta know who he was talking about. You came into the office sometimes, to bring whiny Clint and grateful Natasha food and coffee.

And you were probably the same girl Clint tortured and made fun of him for having a “crush” on.

Bucky arrived at the restaurant about half an hour before he was due. He wanted to be early and to have time to shake away all the nerves.

Well, maybe all was a bit much to ask. There were definitely a lot of nerves to cover.

He was greeted by Thor, the host who gave him a seat. A teenage boy with light brown hair and a bubbly personality brought him a glass of water and some bread. And another glass of water. And another. And a refill of bread.

“Thanks, Peter,” Bucky said again. No matter how many times the boy had to come back, he didn’t seem to stop smiling or being glad to get Bucky yet another glass of water.

As Thor came around the corner again, just as Peter was leaving, he was accompanied by the very girl Bucky had guessed it would be.

You were laughing, he could see, something Thor had said. Time felt like it was slowed as you met his eyes with yours. They seemed to sparkle with your joy, and his heart fluttered at the sight.

He hadn’t seen you so elegant before, but to him, you looked just as beautiful with or without. The makeup that defined your features seemed to have been applied with a steady hand. The dress you wore seemed to almost go with the makeup, and he wondered if it was planned or if you were just…perfect.

He had barely any time at all to gather his thoughts and put his ducks in a row before you sat across from him, smiling warmly. He smiled back, unable to say or do anything but sip his water.

“Hi,” You said. Your heart was pounding, and your heads were sweaty with nervousness. He set down his water glass that he had been holding since you came around the corner with Thor. He was barely finished saying hi back when the young waiter came to take your order.

He ordered first, and you quickly scanned the menu and picked something. The boy smiled warmly as he collected the menus from you, with the promise your food would be out soon.

“So,” The dark-haired man cleared his throat. You were entranced by the blue of his eyes as he said, “You…your name’s Y/n, right?”

“Hmm? Oh!” You realized you were basically questioning your own name, only a second too late. “Yeah, yeah, uh…Nat…asha, didn’t really tell me…your name.”

You decided on the long version of Nat’s name, taking a pause beforehand. You were grateful when the waiter, Peter, popped up out of nowhere with a drink you ordered, and more water for your date.

“It’s Bucky…Well, I mean, it’s James, but everyone calls me Bucky,” “Bucky” gave you a lopsided smile, which you returned.

Peter wasn’t lying when he said your food would be out right away. It seemed like you had barely taken the time to talk before your plates were in front of you.

“So you have…?”

“Three roommates,” you said, laughing a little.

“Oh god, and one of them’s Clint?” His face was twisted in genuine concern, which made you laugh a little harder. Bucky was hot and Bucky was funny and you could hardly take it.

“What about you?”

“It’s just me and Sam right now…and we have a cat,” He adds the last part after taking a sip of his drink.

“You don’t look like a cat person,” You shake your head, taking a bite of your food.

“If I wear clothes that haven’t immediately come out of the dryer, I look like a cat,” He says, and then seems to pull a white cat hair off of his black shirt.

“You need lighter clothes.”

“Not really my style.”

“You’re eternally a goth kid?”

He lets out a loud laugh at that, making you smile even harder.

~~~

“She was hot, and she was funny,” Bucky was saying to Sam. Sam was lying stretched out on the couch, Alpine laying pristinely on his chest, all her legs tucked under her fluffy body.

“That’s nice Bucky,” Sam says, only half paying attention. He coos at the cat, scratching her chin, “Isn’t that nice baby?”

“Okay, you’re not listening.”

“What makes you think that?”

~~~

You were laying on your couch, your feet in Clint’s lap as he prodded you with questions. Natasha shushed him, smacking him upside the head, as she handed you a drink. And by drink, that refers to an entire bottle of wine.

You were fiddling with the cork as you droned on about the date. About what Bucky looked like, and about what you talked about. More about what he looked like…

You let yourself trail off as Natasha and Clint shared a knowing look, and Wanda was smiling to herself as she played on her phone.

“What?” you ask, eyes full of innocence.

“Noth-” Wanda starts, but Clint cuts her off.

“You’re whipped,” he laughs.

You smile to yourself, shaking your head.

Maybe you were.

#bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #clint barton #marvel mcu #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff

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feyhunter78 · 10 months

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Pink Pastels Pt 21

Description: After your almost disastrous encounter in the O'Hara household, you spend some time debriefing with Janey, and Miguel asks for a second date.

Pt 22

So, you what, jumped out a window?” Janey drawls, her expression both intrigued and unamused, her image freezing for a second as she moves to a part of her apartment with better Wi-Fi.

“No, I hid in his bathroom until he’d convinced Gabi to go play in her room, then sprinted into my own. Janey, it was so embarrassing, I looked like a fucking toaster strudel.”

Janey chokes on her drink. “Not a toaster strudel…”

You bury your face in your hands. “I seriously have a problem, like I need to stay away from him. That cannot happen again, it just can’t.”

A text pops up on your phone, making it vibrate.

Mr. O’Hara: Hey, I’ve been thinking about yesterday and I acted inappropriately, could I take you to dinner tonight, to make up for it? I know a place, it’s a bit out of the way, but there’s no chance anyone from Gabi’s school will see us.

You changed his name back from Miguel to Mr. O’Hara, wanting to remind yourself of the professional boundaries.

“Y/N?” Janey asks, waving her hand, trying to catch your attention.

“Yeah, sorry, anyways, I need to get a handle on myself, I swear I haven’t been this…ya know…in ages.”

Mr. O’Hara: My treat, obviously. I think I make three times what you make.

Mr. O’Hara: Shit, sorry that was rude.

Mr. O’Hara: Anyways let me know.

“I mean, technically there’s nothing in the rules that say you can’t date a parent, it’s just frowned upon.”

Y/N: I’d love to pick me up at six?

Mr. O’Hara: Absolutely, I’ll see you then.

“Yeah, but still.” You glance at the clock, it’s five ten, you definitely need to start getting ready. You pick up your phone and move into your bathroom, continuing to chat with Janey as you get ready.

Six o’clock on the dot, Miguel is at your door. He’s dressed casually, which is a relief because so are you.

He hands you a bouquet of flowers, roses, a bit basic, but beautiful. “Again, my apologies, and I’m glad you’re letting me take you out, I really do like you, y/n, as cheesy as that sounds.”

You take the flowers and quickly put them in a vase before following Miguel down to the parking garage.

It’s a long drive, maybe an hour from your place, but once you arrive you understand.

It’s a small restaurant out of the city, a bit run down, but the neon sign is bright, and you can already smell food.

“This is the best Mexican food in Neuva York and the surrounding area, my mother used to take my brother and I here on our birthdays.” He explains as he opens the door for you.

The restaurant is beautiful, hand painted murals, wood carved booths, warm lighting, and soft music streaming through the speakers hidden amongst the beams that hold up the ceiling.

Once you’re seated and the waitress takes your order, you sip on your water awkwardly. It’s been a while since you’ve been on an actual date.

“Do you like Mexican food?” Miguel asks, looking at the drink menu, his eyes darting to your face every other second.

“Yeah, yeah, my mom is actually from Texas, so we’d get Tex-Mex every time we went to visit her family. I know it’s not the same thing, but…”

“Gabi said your mom has lived in Nueva York her whole life?” Miguel’s eyebrows furrow and you bite your lip.

“Oh umm, so my mother, was born and raised in Nueva York, but my stepmom is from Texas. She married my dad when I was a baby, she’s basically the only mom I’ve actually had. My bio mother sued for joint custody when I was a kid, but I…I didn’t want to live with her. Scheduled visits were enough for me.” You explain, cursing yourself for even mentioning your biological mother to Gabi.

It was a rough day for her, after you learned about her mom from Melissa. You only told her to make her feel better, to let her know she wasn’t alone, but now you were kind of regretting it…

“I don’t talk about her much, she’s—she’s just a lot.” You wave your hand in the air dismissively and plaster on a smile.

“I thought my stepfather was my dad until I went to high school.” Miguel admits, setting down the drink menu.

“Oh?” You’re a little shocked, but hey, you’ve almost fucked multiple times, you’re close enough to share childhood traumas.

“My boss is my father, my mother had an affair with him, I have a half-sister, Monica who is a notorious gossip, but might be my best friend, maybe my only friend? I’ve got coworkers I occasionally get drinks with but…”

You giggle, half at the way he says it, half out of nerves. “Sorry, sorry, please go on.”

He gives you a sheepish smile. “It’s pathetic, I know, a grown man whose best friend is his sister.”

“No, no, I think it’s sweet.” You reassure him.

“And what about you? Siblings? Friends?” Miguel scoops some salsa onto a chip.

“I’ve got a younger brother, he’s a pilot, never around, always sending photos from exotic places, and then Janey, she teaches with me, and she’s my best friend.” You stir the queso in front of you with the spoon provided, watching as the jalapeños sink into the cheese.

Miguel nods. “The tiny black woman with the brightly colored outfits?”

“Everyone is tiny compared to you. But yes, she is short.” You defend Janey playfully, knowing Miguel doesn’t mean anything by it.

“It’s not my fault I was blessed with the stature of a Greek god.” Miguel shrugs, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You roll your eyes. “It must be so difficult for you.”

“It is, actually, do you know how many old ladies hit on me?”

You laugh at that, picturing giant, buff Miguel running from grandmothers chasing him down with their canes and walkers. “I am so sorry for your struggle.”

He laughs as well. “I appreciate it.”

“Is your mom still in Neuva York?” You ask, taking a bite of a queso covered chip.

“Yeah, I have her set up in this nice apartment, it’s quiet, she can get her groceries delivered to her if she wants, there’s a pool she and Gabi go swimming in, and she’s on the building’s HOA which is always entertaining.”

“I can’t imagine the stories apartment HOAs have to tell.”

Miguel pitches up his voice, laying on a thick Mexican accent. “Mijo you will never guess, the man upstairs, with the little dogs, a killer, the police came today, took him away. Dios nos salve a todos.”

“That means like God save us, right?” You ask, trying to remember what that Catholic dude from Law and Order: SVU used to say.

“Close, God save us all.” Miguel smiles at you, then the waitress when she sets your food down.

Your waitress’ face tints red, and you feel a wave of jealousy wash over you. You wait until she’s gone, then continue the conversation. “Wait, was he actually a murderer?”

Miguel chuckles. “No, his dogs have been killing birds, squirrels, and other small animals outside the building. He’s been cleaning them up, but apparently disposing of them in the wrong dumpster. Maintenance in the building just wanted to show him the right one to use.”

“Ah, I see.”

“My mother has a wild imagination; I think she gets bored sometimes.” Miguel says. “I should take Gabi to visit her more often but…”

“Being a secret superhero takes up a lot of time?” You joke in a hushed voice, looking around to make sure no one is paying attention.

“Exactly.” He takes a bite of his food, carnitas.

“Sure, keeps you out late, on the street, rooftops, balconies…” You trail off, taking a bite of your quesadilla.

Miguel swallows hard. “I like keeping people safe.”

You nod. “And you’re good at it, I’m glad to have a superhero living in my building.”

“Thank you.” He says softly.

For a moment, you wonder if anyone ever thanks Miguel for what he does. You’re sure people thank him when he saves them, but outside of that? When he’s just patrolling, watching over the city?

“Last time I talked to my mom, she was complaining about my dad keeps the house too cold, and that there’s nothing good on TV anymore.”

“She’s right, there’s nothing good on TV anymore.”

“There’s some good movie though, like that one that came out a bit ago, based on a comic book?” You wrack your brain, but can’t remember what it’s called.

“I only see the movies Gabi wants to see.” Miguel admits sheepishly.

“Well, good thing she’s got good taste.”

You both walk back to Miguel’s car, hands brushing against each other, pinkies almost linking then shying away at the last second.

“Thank you for this, it was nice.” You say, looking up at him, the moon a halo behind his head, dousing him in an ethereal glow.

“No, thank you, I know we’ve kind of gone about things backwards, and that you’re Gabi’s teacher, but I…I really do like you, y/n. I enjoy spending time with you, I like hearing your stories, and telling you mine…”

You take the plunge and link your hand with his. “I like spending time with you too Miguel.”

His fingers interlace with yours. “My work is having a gala in a few weeks, would you come with me? As my date?”

Janey is never going to let you live this down.

“Yeah, sure, sounds like fun.” You tell him, heart skipping a beat when he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to it.

“I’ll give you more details as I get them, but I promise it will be a night to remember, even if all you remember is my coworkers getting drunk off their asses.”

You thank him when he opens the car door for you, then he slides into the driver’s seat.

Miguel walks you to your door, lingering in its frame as you hold each other’s gaze, silly lovesick smiles on your faces.

“I should go to bed.” You say, making no attempt to break away from his gaze.

“Me too.” Miguel echoes, also not moving an inch.

“Thank you, again, for dinner.”

“It’s no problem, I’d like to do it again if you’d let me?” He tilts his head to the side, a soft smile on his face.

“I’d like that.” You tell him before you finally take a step back and into your apartment. “Goodnight Miguel.”

He grabs your wrist, gently, reverently, and presses his lips to your palm, the warmth of his face feels nice of your cold hand, the slight stubble tickles your skin, and his lips are soft. “Goodnight y/n.” Then he releases you and turns to go into his own apartment.

You shut your door, face burning. How was it, that out of everything Miguel’s done, that’s what makes your head spin a thousand miles in every direction imaginable?

He really is something else, huh?

Tag list: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @needsleep3000, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @blakeaha, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue , @marcelineormars

#meg's writing #miguel’s pastels #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #cute date night!!!#the stepmom is my TX girlies rep

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