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velvetures · 9 months

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Got Me Snoring

A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.

“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.

After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.

“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?�� His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.

“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.

You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.

Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.

She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.

Then there was Ghost.

He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.

“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”

You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.

The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”

It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.

Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.

About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.

“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”

He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.

The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.

Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.

“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.

“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.

By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.

“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”

No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.

“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.

“Why would it matter?”

You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.

“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.

“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”

A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.

“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.

“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.

Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.

“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”

In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.

“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.

“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.

“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”

You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.

“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.

“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”

Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.

“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.

Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.

Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”

It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.

“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.

“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.

“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.

You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.

“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.

Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.

When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.

“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.

He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.

“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.

“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.

You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.

And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.

“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.

“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”

It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.

You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.

“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.

“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.

Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.

“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.

You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.

“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”

His eyes say it all.

They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.

Bring Ghost to his knees.

It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.

Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.

As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.

Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.

“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.

“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.

You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.

“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.

He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.

Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.

Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.

“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.

“You’re mine now.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures

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risestarkiss · 3 months

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The “Ba” in “Baja”

Rise Ramblings #628

Mikey and Leo. Baja Blast. The Tide Pod Duo. Although this duo has limited dedicated screen time, they are an absolute joy to watch. First and foremost, you can’t help but notice how Leo does nothing but try to protect the little bean.

He’ll bend over backwards just to keep his baby brother safe.

Leo will also offer emotional support in very dire times.

It’s just so nice to see them together. Plus, you can tell that Leo loves Mikey to pieces.

Even when Leo’s being annoying.

All of these traits are expected from big brother Leo. However, it’s the other side of this relationship that I find intriguing.

Let’s discuss Mikey and how he interacts with the blue one.

I’ve summarized my thoughts about Mikey’s half of their relationship into two parts: “Emulate” & “Outdo.”

As the youngest of the four, it’s natural for Michelangelo to look up to his older brothers. Yet, throughout the show, I believe that Mikey seems to emulate Leo the most.

This thought leads directly into the “Outdo” portion of my hypothesis.

I've noticed that a competitive streak emerges in Mikey when Leo is in the picture, a streak that I cannot say I’ve seen him express with any of his other brothers, April, or even their rivals. It’s unique just to Leo.

It’s almost as if there is some driving force within Mikey that wants to prove something to Leon.

When it comes to Leo, Mikey is suddenly determined to see who’s the strongest, best, or fastest between them.

(I compiled all of the Air Hockey scenes from the episode, “Mrs. Cuddles”)

The most compelling aspect of their relationship is that this competitive streak seems to be one-sided, at least initially. It's almost as if Leo feels like he doesn't have to prove anything to Angelo.

Eventually, though, Mikey goads Leo into competing with him, and Leo gives in if not but to defend his title, satiate Orange, and give his antagonizer what he’s looking for. (It’s a “you mess with the bull, you get the horns” type of thing.)

Why does this dynamic exist? Who’s to say. But I believe that the dissonance between these two comes from Leo seeing their relationship as “Protector – Protectee” while Mikey sees Leo as a rival, or more specifically, Leo is the goalpost that Michelangelo has tasked himself with surpassing.

In my opinion, the concept of Mikey seeing Leo’s accomplishments as something he needs to “Emulate” & “Outdo” is a compliment in it’s simplest form. Mikey thinks that Leo is so great and awesome that he wants to be just as awesome, and even better than the brother he respects and looks up to so much.

…Or maybe Mikey just wants to knock Leo down a peg or two.

I can’t say that I’d blame him.

Also, do you know why Mikey is the “Ba” in “Baja?”

Because Leo is the "Jajajajajajaja" *laughs in Spanish*

All right. I’m done.

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kiss-inthekitchen · 1 month

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same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him.

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone.

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet.

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum.

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?”

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.”

“Yeah.”

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do.

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics.

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice.

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.”

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.”

“But I think I should be right more often than that.”

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock.

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.”

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?”

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?”

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.”

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while.

“Spence?”

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door.

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.”

“I’m already inside with the door locked.”

“Man, I’m good.”

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already.

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.”

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.”

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.”

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice.

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic.

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does.

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster.

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.”

You laugh. “For the whole day?”

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.”

“Okay, rest day all day.”

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.”

“Maybe the floor.”

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?”

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.”

“Say no more.”

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.”

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?”

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.”

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.”

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke.

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.”

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?”

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.”

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.”

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates.

You let out a little gremlin laugh.

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone.

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’.

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs.

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.”

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’”

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.”

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part.

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.”

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.”

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.”

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.”

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird.

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him.

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice.

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh.

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it.

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes.

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.”

“We did.”

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy.

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him.

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters.

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #my fics #your honor im obsessed with him

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slut-for-evans-stan · 5 months

Text

Mission Accomplished

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader

Word count: 3.4k+

Summary: Ben and you can't stay in the same room without wanting to rip each other's hearts out. The Boys, tired of dealing with you, decide to take matters into their own hands by tricking you two into completing your most crucial mission yet— resolving your problems. One thing leads to another and you discover that there was an easier, much more enjoyable method to resolve everything between you all along. (I'm sorry I suck at summaries.)

Warnings: SMUT!!!! (18+), Enemies to Lovers, Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy, Dirty talk, oral (m+f rec), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it fellas), hate fucking!? (kind of), rough sex, swearing, choking, squirting, creampie.

a/n: this is my very first time writing smut. Not proofread, please pardon me for errors if any! I tried my best :')

I'd really appreciate if you could like, comment and/or reblog, it'll make me really happy <3

Being a Supe with extraordinary powers didn't mean you were ready to exploit people for clout, with how things were at Vought. So when Starlight and Hughie learnt that you declined Ashley's offer to have you join the Seven, they convinced you to join hands with The Boys to ensure that the arrogant liars claiming to be "Saviours of the World" got what they deserved. Despite feeling a bit unwelcome at first due to Butcher's distant behaviour, you quickly settled in and felt accepted, and connected to everyone in the team, everyone except the newest member to join forces with you all to help in taking down Homelander and others; Soldier Boy.

In the dimly lit room, stood Soldier Boy in his silk robe, a cigarette in one hand, one leg on the bed, the other supporting his weight on the floor; his back facing the door. Upon hearing a soft knock, he turned around with a smug grin on his face. He began,

"Well, hello there gorgeous! You've sure kept me waiting long enough for someone who made eager promises to choke on my dick."

Unamused, and somewhat disgusted by his comment, you shot him a stern look,

"I'm not here for your entertainment, I need to run a few tests on you. So it'll be nice if you'll please spare a few minutes before you run off to get your dick wet. We need to be sure that you're not going to explode and kill us all."

Soldier Boy's smirk echoed through his room as he eyed you with an amazed expression. Undeterred, he sauntered over to you, leaning in and mistaking your seriousness for a mere challenge.

"Sure. Whatever it is, let's get it over with. Maybe after this, you and I could-"

You cut him off with an icy glare

"Save the charm for someone who cares. I don't have time for this bullshit, we've a mission coming up."

From your very first meeting that started with a misunderstanding, it would've been an understatement to say that Soldier Boy annoyed every living cell in your body. You were both constantly arguing and bickering about something or the other, always at each other's throats.

Soldier Boy's deep, intimidating voice echoed through the room, your comment having hit a nerve.

"You know what, you're insufferable."

"At least I'm not stuck up." he shot back.

What should've been a meeting to discuss the upcoming mission, turned into yet another baseless argument between the two of you. Making your teammates uncomfortable with every passing moment. Hughie, Frankie, Kimiko and others exchanged uneasy glances as the tension thickened. You continued,

"I can't believe I've to be stuck with an unbearable asshole as you. Butcher I think I'm gonna skip this mission. Don't want us to end up in another mess like the last time."

At this point, it seemed like you were both minutes away from strangling each other. Soldier boy chuckled,

"Why, you're so intimidated by a real hero you want to hide away like a pussy?"

Eyebrows raised, you retorted, "Real hero!? More like a reckless liability. I've seen toddlers with better impulse control."

Sensing a storm brewing, Hughie spoke with a shaky voice, attempting to intervene and diffuse the situation. "Can we focus, guys? We have a mission-"

Your gaze never wavered from the supe. "I'll focus when he stops acting like he's better than everyone else. He is not the only one with superpowers here, he might be strong but he doesn't scare or intimidate me in the slightest."

Rolling his eyes, Soldier Boy muttered, "I wouldn't need to if you could follow a plan for once in your life."

Butcher commented shutting you all up "Oi. Enough! No one is backing out. You two should go fuck it out or something, whatever issues you stupid cunts have with each other. Don't need any fuck ups in the mission."

The tension spilled into the supposed battlefield, your bickering a dangerous undertone to the chaos around you. Clashing on missions, your mutual disdain fielding your actions, each vying to outdo the other. Yet beneath the surface, a spark lingered, an undeniable attraction that you both, despised and desired, but neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

On a particularly precarious mission, your incessant bickering almost jeopardized the entire operation.

Amidst the mayhem, you found yourself pinned down by one of the opponents, wounded and unable to use your powers, and Soldier boy reluctantly came to your rescue.

You grunted, "I didn't need your help."

He shot back, "Don't get used to it. I'm saving the mission, not your sorry ass."

Watching the scene unfold from a distance, your teammates exchanged knowing looks. After the mission, they decided they'd have enough, and decided to take matters into their own hands, realising that the unresolved tension between you two threatened not just personal dynamics but the success of missions itself.

On Butcher's suggestion, the team tricked the two of you into thinking there was another mission but instead locking you up in a safe house together,

"Sort this out, or we'll all end up as collateral damage."

warned Hughie before haphazardly shutting the door and leaving, forcing you to confront your issues, facing a choice: either talk and resolve the conflict or risk tearing each other apart. Silence filled the room. However, it was short lived.

Taking a deep breath, you plopped on the sofa across from where he sat and spoke as calmly as you could.

"Great, those little shits tricked us."

Soldier Boy scowled, "This is ridiculous. I don't need couple's therapy, I need a way out of here. I'm gonna beat the shit out of these fucknuts."

This made you roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Maybe if you weren't so intolerable, we wouldn't be stuck in this situation in the first place."

As another argument filled the space, the air in the small living room of the safe house shifted. Soldier Boy's tone somewhat softened, revealing a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"You think I enjoy being like this? Constantly on edge, wondering if I'll turn into a goddamn weapon."

You sighed, your defenses momentarily crumbling.

"I didn't sign up for this either, you know. Being a supe's babysitter wasn't in my job description."

As you bickered, underlying desire simmered beneath the surface. Soldier Boy's gaze lingered a moment too long, making a very visible flush rise in your cheeks.

A smug grin playing on his lips, as he said,

"You can't resist me, can you? Admit it, there's something between us, more serious than all this bickering. You know, I think you want me-"

You cut him off, but your voice wavered. "Keep dreaming, I still can't stand you." This remark gave rise to another banter.

"Don't get over yourself. I was only pulling your leg. You're insufferable."

Accusations started flying like daggers, each word cutting deeper than the last. You walked into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge, making your way back into the living room, catching him intently staring at you. Frustration morphed into a heated exchange of longing glances.

Tension crackled in the air, and just when it seemed the room might implode, his expression shifted.

He got up from the sofa, walking over to you, cornering you till your back hit the wall. He leaned in, his eyes darkening with a growing desire, his voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial tone.

"You know what? Maybe you're right. I can't stand you, because everytime I look at you, this is all I want to do."

You arched an eyebrow, caught off guard. "Wait, what?" But before you could process what was happening, his lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss, making the beer bottle fall from your hands, effectively silencing any protests. You caught hold of the shirt he was wearing, kissing him back with equal fervour, savoring the moment as if it was a dream that would end all too soon. All your pent up anger and frustration showed up as the two of you desperately tore at each other clothes, never once breaking the kiss. A battle of tongues. He only pulled back for a second, with a sly grin on his face, his eyes dark, pupils dilated with glimmers of lust.

"There, no need to argue when we can do this instead. We should've figured this out sooner." Rubbing you over your panties with two of his fingers, he groaned.

"You're such a slut. So wet already and I haven't even touched you. You want to get railed till you can't walk, don't you?"

Before you had a chance to say anything, he reclaimed your lips in a hunger fuelled kiss. The room once filled with tension, now crackled with a different kind of energy. Pieces of both your clothings flew across the room. Soldier boy lifted you up and carried you to the small table in the kitchen and set you down hurriedly. The two of you continued to kiss while he rid you both of the remaining pieces of clothing. He kissed you like a mad man, biting and marking every inch of your skin he could in his desperate need to be close to you. Starting from your neck, moving to your tits, taking one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting it while palming and squeezing the other roughly, then switching and doing the same to the other one. He moved back up to place another rough kiss to your lips, both of you moaning and biting each other's tongues and lips, intoxicated with the feeling of being so close. With an animalistic growl he parted, giving you a look so intense, it could scare the bravest of people.

"When you feel the need to scream, moan my name. Scream it as loud as you can."

With that he roughly nudged your legs apart as wide as they could go and dived right in, eating you out like man starved, licking and sucking your most sensitive parts like it was his last meal. You pulled his hair, legs shaking and trembling with pleasure. His gruff beard giving you a delicious burn, that would heal in no time. He started flicking your clit with his tongue and entered two of his fingers inside you, moving them in and out rapidly. When he added two more fingers, you lost it. Screaming his name and cumming all over his face, your legs wrapped around his head, making it impossible for him to move away.

"Fuck. Ben. I can't-"

you tried pulling away but he didn't stop even then, holding you down with his arms, making you cum two more times before finally deciding to let go. You were dazed in pleasure, but still wanted more. Jumping down the table, and on your knees, you made eye contact with him as you slowly took his long, thick and veiny cock in your hand, stroking him and giving a few kitten licks from the base to the tip and sucking off the beads of precum, moaning at the salty taste, making him groan. You then looked up at him, taking him as far as you could before pulling back again and asking him to fuck your face. He hesitated for a second but his resolve crumbled as soon as you opened your mouth, showing him you were waiting for him. He grabbed your head with both his hands and pushed himself into your mouth, roughly thrusting in and out again and again, moaning your name, cussing like a maniac. You could tell he was close, and then he held your head as close as possible, making you gag a little, his eyes closing, his head thrown back, as ropes of his cum shot down your throat.

In ragged breaths, he said "Be a good little slut and swallow it all."

As you did, you opened your mouth with your tongue out, showing no remnants of his release. He chuckled, pulling you up by your arms, surprising you with a softness in his gaze as he asked

"You sure you want to go further? If you don't, we'll stop right here and pretend this never happened-" you cut him off with an aggressive kiss "Fuck me as hard as you can. I won't break. Take all your frustrations out on me."

With that he smirked and rapidly turned you around, bending your back and shoving your face on the table with his hand, setting it for support right by your head. He entered you with one brutal thrust, making the both of you moan and groan loudly, not giving you a second to adjust as he started ramming his cock into you, hard and deep, his hips moving at an inhuman speed.

"That's it. This is what you wanted right? Now take it. I don't think I'm ever going to let you go after this. You feel so good. Gonna make you my personal little fuck toy. Such a perfect fit."

Hearing all the filth leave his mouth made you clench around him, making him throw his head back in pleasure, never once letting his pace falter.

"Ah you love this. I can tell by the way your tight pussy's choking my dick."

At this point, all rational thoughts had left your brain and all you could do was moan and revel in the pleasure he was giving you. One thing you knew for sure was that he had ruined everyone else for you. After a few moments he moved the hand on your back between your legs to rub your clit and you started screaming in pleasure, feeling yourself flying close to the edge. As soon as Ben realised how close you were, he pulled out and turned you around, lifting you on the table and onto your back, swiftly entering you again.

"I know you're close. I wanna see your face when you cum all over me."

He moved his hand back between your legs to rub your clit in circles, while his other hand moved to your neck, choking you, as he went back to thrusting at his original, rough pace. This new angle somehow making him go deeper than before, hitting that one spot that made you see stars.

"Fuck. I don't think I can last long either."

To that, you finally managed to say

"Cum with me."

which sounded more like a moan than a sentence. You both looked into each other's eyes, moaning, grabbing each other, raking your nails all over his gorgeous, broad shoulders, not breaking the eye contact once. After a particularly hard thrust, you felt a funny sensation, one that you have rarely ever felt, only while pleasing yourself and before you knew, you screamed and started squirting your release, coming undone while Ben kept thrusting into you.

"Oh yes. Fuck. That's so hot baby. Cum all over me. I don't think I'll ever get enough of the look on your face right now. I think I've finally managed to shut you up, fucked your brains out. Fuck I'm cumming."

His thrusts grew frantic, and much harder than before, kissing you roughly, your teeth clashing, and he finally slammed his hips into yours one last time, holding your hips so tight, you were sure you would bruise for atleast a few hours, despite your super healing abilities. Groaning and grunting in his deep voice as thick ropes of his cum filled you to the brim, triggering yet another release out of you, making you squirt even more. He collapsed on top of you, careful that he wasn't crushing you with his weight.

The two of you stayed like that, entangled with each other for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath, before he slowly pulled out of you, making you both wince at the sudden loss. As he walked to the living room, "That was it" you thought, a one time rendezvous with Soldier Boy that might have either helped you two or made things worse. He sauntered back in with a towel in hand, towards the sink to wet it, also filling up a glass of water and quietly walking to you, cleaning you up without a word, handing the glass for you to drink. Taking it from him, you looked at him mumbled a soft "thank you", getting down the table, you nudged him to walk out with you, sitting down on the couch and covering yourself with a blanket, while he picked up his surprisingly untorn boxers, putting them on and sitting next to you, making you turn to face him. You both understood you needed to talk about what had just happened.

The shared realisation that the animosity between you two that had led to this impulsively passionate encounter, had somewhere blurred the lines between desire and hate.

Ben began to say "Look, about earlier... I didn't mean half the things I said."

You replied "What? You didn't mean it when you said you want to kiss me and do other filthy things to me everytime you see me?"

Taken aback, with a raised eyebrow and confused express Ben said, "Oh no, no lies there. I've wanted you from the moment I saw you."

You cut him off saying "I know, I was just pulling your leg. I've felt the same way about you. Your reputation preceded you and it made me crazy knowing I still wanted you."

He replied, "I think we let our tempers get the best of us." sighing, he continued "I care about you more than I let on."

Which made you sigh in response. "Then why do you never act like it? Making me think of you as a douche who loves berating me?"

Ben ran his fingers through his hair. "I guess I feel scared. Scared of how much of a hold you have had on me from the very beginning. It made me feel like a fool at times, I thought the only way I could supress these feelings were by acting like an asshole towards you. I'm really sorry."

Your gaze softened, "I'm really sorry too, my behaviour towards you hasn't been any better either." You continued, "I thought we were destined to be enemies. I don't hate you, I never did. I just wanted you to see the person I am beyond the righteous supe everyone else sees."

Ben slowly took your hands in his, making you look into his eyes. "Now I see you more than I ever thought I would. Maybe.. maybe there's something more here."

You replied, "Maybe there is. What happens now?"

To which he said "We talk. Like normal people. No more running away or avoiding things and arguing for no reason. We figure out where we stand, one step at a time, together."

You smiled, nodding your head. "Agreed. No more hiding how we feel. Besides, I guess I like this way of solving our issues much more." Which made him chuckle and pull you into his arms, staring at you intently, pressing his lips to yours.

Back at the Flatiron building, Hughie sat at his table across from Frenchie, fidgeting with his cup. "I'm worried. What do you think? Will they make up or kill each other?"

Butcher entered the room, a smirk plastered over his face "I'm pretty sure they are fucking like rabbits back there." And boy, was he right.

The two of you went multiple rounds, thanks to your super stamina, christening every possible surface of the safe house. From the couch, to the bedroom and the floor, and the shower too. You had both awoken a hunger, only the other could satiate.

"Now that we're not at each other's throats for the wrong reasons, I think maybe, we'd make a good team after all."

Said Ben, holding you close, running smooth circles on along your arms, with the two of you lying on the bed, tired and basking in the afterglow. You smiled, turning to face him. "We'll have to see about that, you might just be right. For now, I can't believe I'm saying this but I need sleep, we both do. You've worn me out completely."

He chuckled, tightening his arms around you, placing a soft kiss to your forehead and lips, and the two of you drifted off to sleep, feeling content in each other's embrace.

It was a start of a connection and understanding that arose from the most unexpected places, even amidst the chaos of a world filled with superhumans and the fight for good. Fiery exchanges and whispered confessions bringing in an unexpected depth to your dynamic, proving that there can be a fragile, pure connection between two polar opposites. Serendipity, often painted as an unusual force, interweaves with fate, guiding people towards love where they're least expecting to find it.

Your story a testament to the unpredicted twists of the heart, proving that even the fiercest adversaries can find redemption in each other's arms.

a/n: Finished watching Season 3 of 'The Boys' just a few days ago and let me just put this out here, Jensen as Soldier Boy is one of the best things to ever happen to this world. Oh! the things I'd let this man do to me-

Been planning this fic for a week now, I really hope y'all enjoyed reading as much as I did writing this.

I'd really appreciate if you'd comment any thoughts, improvements, suggestions or requests that you have! Thank you ^_^

Credits: Banner by @mykento

post divider by @saradika

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shiny-jr · 2 months

Note

Hi! I noticed that your requests were open and I love the way you write Malleus so I was hoping you would do yandere malleus x reader. where the reader knows twisted wonderland is a game (but not imposter au pls) and after they got isekia'd are trying to stop the overblots from happening and malleus is just terrified for them. Idk just an idea I've had for awhile but never found a fanfic like lol. Obviously it's totally fine if you don't want to do it or if I accidentally broke a rule. Anyway remember to drink some water and take a break if needed! Have a amazing rest of your day/night!!

Warning: Yandere (not really, not at all). Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Malleus Draconia.

Summary: MC sees affection meters and it's not good.

Note: These are mainly thoughts and random words my mind spewed out.

How did one claim victory at a game? Well, it entirely depended on the game, the mechanics and the options. It should've been impossible to lose a mobile game that was primarily composed of the gacha mechanism and visual novels.

When you suddenly found yourself in the series of twisted villains in a prestigious school of magic, you found that it was much more complex than it appeared on screen. Especially when only you could see these small bars occasionally floating above people's heads. Bars which you recognized as affection meters, nearly all of them stagnant at a dull gray 0% when you first arrived. This was the hurdle blocking your way to an easy victory. Because how else were you to escape the game, other than complete it?

Situations became messier, when you didn't have a dialogue options between two mere choices. Add making good impressions and keeping a character's favor, to the list of quests alongside avoiding death by inky overblotted characters. By some miracle, you had increased the affection of the characters you met and interacted with to a healthy 5% or 10%, sometimes more. At any cost you wished to avoid getting in the negatives, because you did not want to find out what would happen then.

Sometimes, the numbers would drop dangerously close to zero, mainly when an overblot was occuring. Never had you realized how the visual novel failed spectacularly at portraying the utter horror of the overblotted in all their wicked glory. The black inky darkness leaking from them like tears or blood with those crazed unhinged looks in their eyes–– was the stuff of pure nightmares.

And yet the one whose overblot you had been dreading the most, the dorm leader of Diasomnia, was surprisingly docile as you dealt with others. However, you knew even when conversing with him, that you would one day witness him overblot and look like some ethereal but deadly fallen angel. So mentally you prepared yourself, while taking on the task of keeping up appearances.

Malleus' affection meter, was a good 20% and a friendly pink shade, quite the accomplishment you were proud of, considering the majority of the cast wasn't even at 15%. The Draconia heir was certainly someone you never wanted to see reach below zero, so you did your absolute best to appeal to him, even if he was quite intimidating at first with the way he stoically watched you complain about the least of your worries, homework and classes.

By the time you spoke to him about your troubles with the Ramshackle dorm and Azul, during what you knew was the Octavinelle arc, the prince's affection had sprouted to a 22%. When you went into more detail of the potential loss you could face, it went to 23%.

The next time you saw him, you were weary and antsy since witnessing Azul's break-down. If the blot of his tears had the magic to gather, it would've been enough to drown, you were sure of it. Even by that maniac look in his eyes, you're sure he would've purposely drowned you if he got close enough.

Throughout that charlatan's chapter, his affection meter had slowly been rising, dropping during the overblot like the tides only to rise once again by the end to a good 45%. This was good!

But no matter how much you may have pondered, strategized, or try to predict each next action, you could've never guessed that the next time you saw Malleus after Azul's overblot, his expression taut with concern, his affection meter had made a jump to 55% and turned red. This entire time you had been avoiding the negatives, but you never once worried of the dangers and implications a red affection meter above 50% would mean for you. Or heaven forbid, anything close to 100%.

#twisted wonderland #twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #malleus draconia #twst malleus #yandere malleus draconia

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toruro · 6 months

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LO$ER=LO♡ER

pt 2

tags: smut (18+), toxic relationship, pet names (princess)

a/n: someone get me out of this toxic!svt brainrot. or maybe send me more asks abt it. either work. if this is incoherent i'm sorry i've been smoking too much tn

thinking about your toxic best friend mingyu.

he's not too bad actually—at least that's what you tell everyone. you wonder if you're maybe trying to convince yourself of it too.

he's the sweetest, really. gets you flowers for any big occasion, treats you for every small accomplishment—he got you the coat you'd been eyeing for ages when you finally got the guts to kick your shitty roommate out, bought you your favorite box cake when you got that small promotion, brought over your go-to boba order when you told him you finished all of your work early and had an extra free day, and—you get it.

mingyu's the best best friend anyone could ask for, honest! which is why you're just a little extra lenient with him when he scared off your last talking stage.

it was an accident! mingyu swears! he tells you he didn't even know that you and jimin were talking like that. (you ignore how there are texts between the two of you from just three days earlier where you told him you were going on a date. mingyu's forgetful, he tells you.) one thing led to the next and the last time you and jimin were hanging out with your group of friends, mingyu might've gotten just a bit too close.

jimin called things off with you the next night. said he can't be friends with someone who's got a puppy on their trail.

all your other friends bring it up too. how you're both just so close. how you've known each other for so long. how you look so nice together. sometimes you shake your head and deny it. tell them "it's not like that!" that you and gyu are "just best friends!"

it's the little things, you've realize. the little things, that lead you to believe that mingyu isn't as sweet as he lets on.

more often that not, mingyu beats you to the punchline, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pressing your cheeks against his, grinning when he says, "well who wouldn't love their best friend when it's her."

you talked to him about it after the first time he said that. told him he can't let other people think that you're dating 'cause you're not. mingyu got a little pissed. pouted a little. told you that you were being a shitty best friend, 'cause a shitty best friend wouldn't push him away like this.

you haven't brought it up since.

maybe it's because you're scared of being a shitty best friend, as gyu put it—scared of losing him (because are you really anything, if not mingyu's best friend?). maybe it's because you don't wanna fight it anymore.

maybe it's because you're just a little too fond of the feeling of his big, veiny hands running all over your body.

"you like it princess?" mingyu chuckles when he clambers on top of you on his couch, pressing you into the soft cushions. you two share a wet kiss as you throw your head back, legs spreading instinctively to allow him to clamber between your legs.

slowly, he lips leave yours and begin to trail sloppy kisses down your chin, jawline, finally settling on sucking at your neck. you're not quite sure how you ended up in this position, but as your mind grows hazy, you vaguely remember the argument that got you here.

(mingyu might've blocked the guy you were talking to on instagram, from your account at that. you aren't sure how he got your password, but mingyu swears that isn't the point. why don't you trust him? don't you know that he just wants what's best for you? he knows that guy wasn't good enough for you anyways. don't you trust him to know what's best for you? c'mon, let him prove it to you ...)

"see princess?" he murmurs, slipping his hands beneath your shirt and riding the flimsy cloth over your stomach and bra-covered tits. he lifts his head up to gaze down at you, cheeks flushed as your back arches upwards and into his touch as he continues to rub his rough palms all over your torso and soft tits. "i know what's good for you ..."

the words reverberate in your skull when he starts to tug at the waistband of your sweats, pushing them down only a little so he can rub his fingers over your clit through the fabric of your panties. when you moan loudly, mingyu grins.

"there she is ..." he grunts, rubbing tight circles over the growing wetness before slipping his shirt over his head. "c'mon ... lemme be the best best friend," he pleads, and you don't even have a moment to think about what you're doing before you're shoving your pants all the way down so they pool at your knees.

"shit, gyu—please!" you cry out, eyes the painfully large tent that rests between his legs and under his jeans. because if mingyu is anything, it's your best friend, and you'd be damned if you let anything—anyone—get in the way of that.

read pt 2 here!

#svt smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #svt scenarios #svt x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu smut #kim mingyu x reader #💌 drabbles

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ao3commentoftheday · 5 months

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Hey!

This is something that's been rolling around in my head for a while, and I'm wondering if you or any of your followers have experience with getting back into writing after illness.

I've been chronically ill for a long time. My symptoms vary a lot depending on external circumstances. From about 2019-2021 or so, I was updating an AU about once a month and having an absolute blast with it...then my health hit a stumbling block. Then it hit another, and another.

I'm now at a point where the stumbling blocks don't seem to be going away anytime soon. I'm starting to feel the mental health effects of not having the spoons to work writing into my day.

I spent the past couple years trying to let myself lie fallow and be kind with my brain when my body needs so much help. I'm at a point where even when I WANT to write, it feels like it's been so long I've almost forgotten how. I'm stalled on all my WIPs from that AU, but it doesn't feel like writer's block so much as it feels like writer's atrophy. I miss it terribly, but I'm having a lot of trouble getting back on my feet.

Thank you for everything you've given our community over the years! 💜💜

*hugs* that's a rough spot to be in, and I hope that we can offer you some ways to get out of it. I'll offer some suggestions from my own experience with a change in health status, but I'm really hopeful that the rest of the blog have some tips to share as well.

Don't hold yourself up to your previous standards. Your abilities have changed, and you should take that into account. If you used to be able to write for 2 hours and now you can only manage 10 minutes, don't see that as a failure. 10 minutes is now your success point. If you used to be able to manage 100K stories with intricate plots and now you find it a challenge to write a straightforward oneshot? Then finishing that oneshot is an accomplishment to be proud of.

If the way you used to do things doesn't work, don't keep trying to do them that way. If you used to type onto a laptop but now staring at the screen makes you feel exhausted? Try dictating into your phone and using speech to text to transcribe it. Then you can go through and edit what's already there. If you used to write at a desk but now sitting up for long periods wears you out? Try tapping it out on your phone in bed. You can't focus for long periods the way that you used to? Turn on the TV and write during commercial breaks.

Don't try to pick up right where you left off. You need to get yourself back in writing shape before you can take on a story that's already halfway written. Those WIPs will still be there, even if you start off with a ficlet or a missing moment or a post-episode coda etc. Start off small. Use ideas or plots that are easier for you to write. Get back into the swing of it before you try to tackle a big project again.

As you try to write something and you find yourself unable to, take a moment and try to identify what the hard part is. Are you having trouble finding words? Are you in an uncomfortable position? Is the device you're using annoying you or difficult to work with? For each problem you can identify, see if you can find an accommodation for it - and look to see if other people have had to accommodate the same issue before you. It's very likely that they have.

I'll stop here and let the spoonies share their thoughts in the notes. I look forward to picking up some advice for myself too ❤️

You can find this question and answer over on Dreamwidth as well, if you'd like to join the conversation over there.

#asks and answers

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natailiatulls07 · 5 months

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Can you please do driver reader and she is the baby of the paddock and she gets sick and everyone is worried and looking after her including her team principal Christian

Worried Mothers Hens

Formula one grid & female!driver!reader

Summary - You get a cold/fever, and the drivers become like worried mother hens

Warning - Blacking out, crash, ibuprofen, mention of breaking your back

Reader drives for Redbull

- You're the youngest on the grid

- Only being 18 years old and the only female on the grid was a huge accomplishment

- Fans love you

- They think you’re the most iconic on the grid

- Your tiktok is filled with candid videos of other drivers

- Like this one time, you asked Carlos to crack your back

- Thing is he didn’t know that you had a uncooked piece of pasta between your teeth

- So when he went to crack your back, he freaked out

- The poor Spaniard thought he seriously broke your back

- “¡Dios mío!”

- “Y/n! I am so sorry! Are you okay?!”

- He kept worrying and apologised

- But when you started to laugh, he expression was concerned

- “¿Qué? ¿Estás bien?”

- “Carlos! It’s okay”

- The fans loved it!

- It was race day for the new Las Vegas Grand Prix

- And many cameras captured each driver as you all arrived separately

- But everyone noticed your pale face and sniffly nose

- Your race engineer, much like everyone else, was concerned

- “Are you sure you’re okay?"

- "Yeah I'll be fine"

- You weren't

- You crashed into turn 5

- "Y/n! Are you okay? Confirm you're okay?"

- Nothing

- You had blacked out down that straight from turn 4 to turn 5

- Luckily you're RB19 didn't cause any collision with any other car

- "That's a red flag! Red flag!"

- "Wait who? Where?" The british McLaren driver asked

- "Yeah I saw the collision, who was it Max or Y/n?" Daniel Ricciardo asked his race engineer

- But when they all found out who was in the car, their concerns for you went up like crazy

- "Is she okay? Has she responsed?"

- They were all instucted to enter the pit lane and would wait there until the race continued

- It's okay though

- You got out of the car unharmed and were told to head to medical centre in the paddock

- So thats what you did

- This did calm some nerves of the other drivers but they were all still that bit concerned as they were told they would continue the race soon

- The medical team told you to go back to your hotel and sleep this fever off

- And thats what you did

- You fell asleep straight away when you got into your hotel bed

- Only to be woken up a few hours later to a knock on the door

- "Come in" You shouted from the bed, only now noticing your scratchy throat

- Opening the door revealed Max, Carlos, Charles, Lando, Daniel and George

- (Pretend Lando didn't crash into the barrier and won)

- "Hey buddy how are you feeling?" The Australian asked as he came to sit by my feet on the bed

- "I've been better"

- Turns out after the race finished they all went to the local supermarket and made up a basket full of cold/fever remedies and all your favourite foods

- lemon cough sweets

- toffee popcorn

- ibuprofen

- etc

- For the rest of the evening, they completely babied you

- Happily watched your favourite childhood film

- Made sure the bed was comfortable for you

- Made you drink a lot of water and eat a lot of vitamin C

- And it's not like the fans missed out on this whole thing

- They all made sure to post regularly on their instagram stories

- Even agreeing to do a tiktok with you

- Overall, being the baby of the grid and being the most iconic really worked out in your favour

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queenofcoquette · 7 months

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where to start

introduction:

self-improvement looks very simple on paper. eat better, workout, have a skin care and hair care routine. lower your screentime, study, be organized, have hobbies. but trust me i know how difficult it is to actually DO the things you talk about doing. how hard it is to even know where to start, and how to stay consistent. roadblocks also happen, things out of your control. but ultimately you can make change in your life, just little by little.

planning:

during this stage you need to think of what you want to accomplish and creating an action plan full of steps that can get you there. i've provided my own example too :)

prioritize your physical and mental health. when those things are improving then pretty much everything else in your life will start to follow. just look at yourself now and think 'what can i do better? how can i be happier & healthier?'

write down your goals.

create an action plan for each goal. what steps can you take to achieve this goal? make a step by step plan.

come up with things you can do everyday to reach that goal. what adjustments can you make in your everyday routine that'll help you get there? for example, i want to make an etsy shop so i sew for 20+ minutes a day on weekends, and sew 30 minutes on weekdays.

excecuting:

the most important part is slowly easing into your new habits. look at your goals and think 'what steps am i taking to reach it?'

meeting your basic needs. before you even think about self improvement make sure you're taking care of your health and hygeine. this means eating enough, being hydrated, taking care of your hygeine. always make sure that your core needsre met consistently before you even begin.

start small. once you've gotten consistent with meeting your basic needs then start making small changes. (ex. exercising for 10 minutes, reading for 10 minutes, start small with the habits you planned) dont overwhelm yourself!

have a fluid plan. be open to change- if something really isn't working then adjust it! and, when you continue to do something for a while, start doing it longer- i used to walk around 1.5 miles daily for almost a month and then started doing 2.5. keep increasing until you're at a healthy point.

having a good mindset. as always make sure your mindset is good. remember that progress isn't linear- you're going to screw up sometimes and get off track. just make sure you learn from every experience.

conclusion:

no matter what there ARE going to be problems or things that don't go your way, things that aren't in your control. since my 15th birthday i've been applying to jobs left and right, over 30 or so, and it's been 5 months of rejection due to my age (15 year olds can only work 3 hours in a row and most places need more). since i can't control that i just keep applying and in the mean time i focus on the other aspects of my life! it can be really frustrating but you just have to keep pushing.

#that girl #self improvement #glow up #pink pilates princess #queenofcoquette #healthy habits #it girl

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unpretty · 2 months

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i got approval like a year ago to start working on a version of our local government office's website that wasn't made by me in notepad in my first month on the job. except i haven't actually made any progress whatsoever because i'm too busy doing my actual job (accounting, not remotely web dev) and dicking around on tumblr. so i got this clever idea to ask if i could work on it at home sometimes. what i do is i request pto and then at home i dick around in wordpress for an hour and print a screenshot to attach to my timesheet. if i can convince my boss (still uses a typewriter and one of those calculators with the little roll of paper on it) that making it look like that took eight hours i don't have to use any of my vacation time. i have not had to use any of my pto since i started doing this.

which is all well and good but i've actually made more progress in one hour increments than i did trying to set aside whole days at the office for website bullshit. this has unsettling implications for how much time in my day is taken up by tuning out my coworkers and trying to look busy. it wouldn't be so hard except my coworkers cannot comprehend that it is possible to be busy while not interacting with the public (my job does not involve interacting with the public). so the only way to avoid a sales pitch for nail wraps, or, worse, getting volunteered to decorate the st patrick's day tree (they bought generic white led trees with the idea that they were neutral enough to be decorated for "all the holidays") is to type constantly and aggressively on the loudest keyboard in the world. which is easiest to accomplish by using keyboard shortcuts to browse the internet at high speed. not having to do this at home seems to be saving me about seven hours per work day.

#original

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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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