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#the more you do it the better you will get
screampied · 2 days
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YOU AND YOUR BRILLIANT WRITING ARE AMAZING OMGOMG. all i’ve been thinking about is the jjk men getting their girl LMAO yk breeeeeding until actual mind break w the goal just being planting a seed in your tummy 🫠
໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ GETTING A SCREAMPIE !!!! ’﹒
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𐚁̸ sum. top jjk men and how they breed you + toji, gojo, sukuna, choso, mdni.
𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, brēeding kink, unprotected, size kink, oral (f), dirty talk, daddy kink, missiōnary, mating press, cowgirl / rev, mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, bum ass toji, sukuna has two cawks. an thank yewwww !!
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☆ CHOSO KAMO
probably the heaviest breeding kink known to man—he’s half curse so he’s infertile.
choso knows the inability to reproduce but he always takes it as an opportunity to stuff you full, again, and again, and again.
“o-one more,” he breathes out, his voice was so breathy, clinging onto each breath that yanks out from esophagus. drowsy eyes shut tight as he’s watching such ropes of his cum already ooze out of both holes. choso’s ears feel fuzzy—he feels fuzzy, but the only thing that was currently on his mind was his goal to make your tummy all plump and rounded. laid flat against your back, you stare as he hovers over you with a cute pout on his lips. his jaw tightens before he pulls out just to stare at the mess between your thighs. “one more, baby. ‘m still full, s—so fuckin’ full,” and he leans in for a kiss, a deep one that’s enlaced with a mixture of your saliva and his. choso’s breath is heavy, he’s heaving as his body pressed into you—thick hands reaching between your thighs just to plug his own seed back into you. “don’t waste it, okay? i saved all of it. saved it just for you, just for us...”
his voice was so tender, such smoothness lingers underneath it as your legs tightly snake around his waist. choso’s staring at you, so in love—he’s always been in love with you though. he was obsessed with you, although his new current obsession was seeing you with a swollen tummy.
again, he’s infertile—yes, but he still likes to imagine he can get his pretty girl pregnant.
oh how he just desperately yearns to gift you with a baby or two . . or three. “c-choso,” you’d mewl out, softly piercing your teeth into the inner parts of his collarbone. choso likes to pull out, pull back in, then out again. a mess, your pussy was flooded with such ropes of his hot cum that he can’t help but gaze at it with a cute sheepish grin.
in his mind he’s thinking . . ‘did i do that?’
and he did, although this time once he pulls out his now flaccid cock—he whines, lowering his head towards between your thighs to get a much closer look, a better view of the mess he was primarily responsible for. “oh no, it’s spilling out,” he says with a cute furrow tugging at his thin eyebrows. choso’s very gentle, he creates a soft strumming a thumb against your swollen clit before he surprises you with his next action. he lolls out his pink clean tongue before tasting the aftermath—tasting himself, a concoction of your slick arousal with his own bitter taste. he doesn’t mind at all, choso’s quite the freak in bed so the moment he runs his tongue against your entrance, there’s no stopping. “gotta k-keep my baby plugged in so she can give me a mini me,” he whimpers, lapping his tongue gradually against your folds—he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment at the bitter taste lingering on the flatness of his taste buds. you’re throbbing, a hand combs its way through his messy strands before you start to arch. “right?”
so cute, your heart swells up with a mush of butterflies as you feel his eyes pierce into you— as he speaks, choso’s voice briefly cracks and he continues to clean up the sloppy mess, using his same stubby thumb to plug your cunt back up with the cum that resumes to spew out gradually.
“y-yes, don’t stop, ‘cho,” you mutter out in jittery words—his tongue was so slow and precise, making sure to rummage through every part of your clit. with two fingers, he pries open your pussy more to get an entire glimpse. he feels his cock strain, wide eyes the size of saucers peer right into you before he gives your cunt a plethora of individual chaste kisses.
mwah after mwah. by this point, he’s making out with your pussy — strings of his own mess forming into a little sheeny cobweb, as well as your wet saliva that coats his lips in such a glittery color. “praise me more, p-please. wanna know how good ‘m making my princess feel.”
with a soft sadden pout, he looks up at you with glossy eyes—such wetness all over his lips before he starts to create sucks against your cunt, nibbling on it shortly afterward. you’re throbbing in his mouth and he shivers incessantly once he feels your fingers playfully massage all through his neglected scalp.
“making me feel so good, you’re doing so well baby,” you whimper out, “s-so fuckin’ good.” his tongue was quite long too—considering how he was a curse, he made sure he knew how to eat you out. choso moans, a mere gritty grunt shortly follows as he reaches a hand down to touch himself before he pauses.
“can i touch myself too? can i touch myself while i clean my pretty girl off?”
“yes baby.”
“fuck, s-say it again,” he whines, leaning right into your touch. he was like a kitten— purring at the way your fingers comb through his hair, tickling his scalp. he awaits for your answer with drowsy eyes and a pouty lip that continues to tremor. “please.”
you giggle at the way he was so in love with your voice, especially in a mere intimate moment like this. “yes baby,” you coo in a melodic tone, watching his droopy eyes shine and he pants before hesitatingly reaching a hand down to feel on his left out twitching cock. “touch yourself for me, ‘s okay,” and he whines as you softly pick up his head from between your legs by his hair—he intakes a breath, and you pull him into a deep kiss. choso whimpers, starting to stroke himself, leaky reddened tip all cold from the wafting air as you taste the mess all on his tongue. bitter yet sweet, he runs a hand on your tummy before he feels your legs wrap around his slim waist once more. once you pull away, you mutter out a soft, “you’re such a good boy for me, choso.”
“heh, i— i try to be,” he pouts, sheeny lips glossed with his own arousal and yours included. choso’s big hand rests against your tummy before he gingerly presses down on it, leaning in for another kiss. “i wanna be good for you,” he whines before leaning down again to kiss near your navel. “wanna be good for you ‘n our future baby.”
☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO
with toji— it’s evident that he’s got a major breeding kink. the thought of you walking around with a plump swelling tummy drives him crazy.
although, he’s not too keen on baring a child— he’s only more worried about the making process.
stuffing you full of velvety ropes of his hot sticky cum. his favorite part, especially whenever he’s pressed right up against you— like now, with you in nothing more than a lewd mating press position. your legs would be sprawled all up, maw dangling open and your eyes criss-crossing each other each particular second.
“shit, what a fuckin’ mess,” he grumbles, such sharp hips smack into you at full force that you can barely react in time. it’s so deep, you moan, pawing and clawing your hands at his tense back muscles. he grunts, feeling your fingertips carve into his skin, scratching his back all up. you’re decorating his back with multiple marks, marks that he loves to show off after the night ends. toji’s rhythm was simply overzealous — insanity at its finest. with a big hand, he cups your chin before giving you a wet kiss. you whine into his mouth, just a doll being rigorously pounded into the frame, mixing his saliva with yours before he pulls away. “keep moanin’ for me like that ‘n i’m really gonna get ya pregnant, girl.”
“s—so do it then, toji.” you spat, your own breaths betraying you with how quick they came and go. you felt like you were ruining a 5k marathon, such wind snatches out of your chest as he makes sure to thrust deep to where his cum that was already inside of you from before stays right in it’s place. he narrows his eyes at you before snickering, pulling you into another deep kiss.
this time, it’s more sloppier. teeth clashing, tongues tango and tangling amongst each other.
his breath was abnormally warm, you taste the lingering tang of booze on his tongue as he rocks his beefy body against yours. you’re about to break, his thrusts became so slow yet deep—the right amount to make you lose your mind.
“toji. . . ?” he sneers, using a thumb to pull your bottom lip down. dark green eyes watch as you’re right at your peak practically. your legs quiver and quaver as he’s just jackhammering his thick cock into you repeatedly in such a rude provocative way. “didn’t know we were on a first name basis, sweetheart.”
“d-daddyyy,” you mewl out, feeling his fat base just thwack against your entrance. previous strings of his own sweltering cum sticks against your skin— each time he pulls himself back to fuck back into you, it smears against your thighs and it’s such a mess. he wraps a hand around your throat, a thumb gliding down the middle part and he feels the sheer vibrations of each individual whine that departs from your mouth. “fuck, fuck, ah ah ‘m gonna cum soon, daddy.”
“bet ya fuckin’ are. ‘specially with a pussy this sloppy ‘n wet. should be ashamed of bein’ this soaked all on me,” he snarls right up against your ear— even his voice has you sopping, your cunt pulses with each word that comes from his mouth that it’s just pathetic. you were no match for his pace, his hips, even his dirty talk. your heartbeat was racing through your ears, rapidly. by now, you were just a pocket pussy—a mere fleshlight, the bed jolts and oscillates from each impactful hit that it even starts moaning itself, as if it’s competing with you. “i’ll give you twins, ‘s that what you want? or are you more of a triplets kinda gal?”
“just give me a baby, daddy.”
“just give me a baby, daddy.” he repeats your tone before cackling—so mean, he watches the pout go against your lips before he greets your wet pussy with a rough spank. you wince, the sting from the entire hit makes your cunt throb at a more quickened pace. you’re so dumb, not a single thought in the world except the fact that you’d be having more ropes of toji’s warm cum oozing out of you in just a minute. just the thought makes you salivate. “greedy . . fuckin’ . . pussy . . holdin’ . . me . . hostage,” he enunciates between each pausing thrust. you writhe underneath him before you end up finishing the same time as him—a loud ear shrilling whimper leaves your throat and he’s pouring another sweet amount of cum into you, this times it’s a lot though. he groans, canines digging into your neck softly as your legs lock around him tightly like a vice.
and as he’s still spewing out such ropes, making sure your pussy is grateful and soaks in ever single drop, he grabs your chin. “now tell me, little girl,” and he kisses you for about a millisecond before continuing his sentence with a sly grin, “are ya ready to be a single mother?”
☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN
“oh, boo. is my future queen already too full?”
such playful words, the gravelly rasp in his tone only makes you ten times more dripping wet.
with your back pressed against him—you’d be facing yourself in front a mirror, struggling to take one out of two of his thick staggering cocks. one of them was idly resting on his tummy—angry red tip, glistening with a pretty translucent color of his own fluid. “more, m-more ‘kuna.”
“when i’m in the process of breeding you, it’s 'my lord', woman.” he warns you, his lower arm out of the other three wraps around your body. his lips press up against your ear and you lean back against him— he chortles, watching your cunt slowly swallow him up again. so tight, so warm, it makes him suck his teeth in contentment at the way your body always responds to him. just a single touch from sukuna and you were on your way to the fifth climax of the night, “you got me?”
“y—yes, my lord,” you moan, feeling the fat tip of his cock ferret all throughout your gummy walls. instinctively, you compress and brace all around him. his jaw tightens, infamous fangs poking out of his lips before he resumes to guide your cute hips. your rhythm was a bit slow . . . it’s simply because he’s so fucking big, sukuna’s so beefy too. two of his extra arms spreads your legs just a bit wider and you let out a cute shriek once he successfully locates your secretive g-spot. he knows your anatomy like it was the back of his hand. you’re spasming, drool seeping from the corners of your mouth as you feel his claws gingerly scrap against your curves. “breed me, pleasepleaseplease.”
he jeers in a low tone— the fact that you’re making an entire mess on his own personal throne like this. the audacity, but maybe he’s even got a little soft spot for you.
“my obedient girl,” he words warm its way into your heart before you’re bouncing on his shaft now— your breathing becomes insignificantly heavy and you grip onto his knees before he brings another lower arm between your cunt. “hm. if i spank this disgraceful pussy will it give me a baby sooner? let’s try it.”
“s—sukunaaaa,” you’d whine out, his touch making your nipples perk up. you were so sensitive—especially after your most recent screaming orgasm that had your throat clinging onto its last and final pipes. each smack he makes against your wet cunt was so slick, saturated with your own arousal that he smears it all over folds. your swollen pussy was awaiting more satiny ropes as he’s just mindlessly pumping in and out of you. he groans, feeling a twinging burn underneath his calve as he holds you down. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, pleaseee.”
“dumb woman, thought i told ya to not call me sukuna when ‘m inside this pussy?” and he holds your head up—with your mouth all open, eyes droopy, tips of your ears burning, you felt everything. you’re so stupid that your thighs ache, your brain short circuits, you’re almost frothing. the more his thick cock pummels into you— the more your ears fill up with straight fuzz. “i’ll let it slide just for today, you’re lucky i like you.”
his words were a mere purr to you, so seductive.
with two rough hands, he makes you grind against him instead of bouncing—purposely making sure that you feel every single inch, every entire being of his hardened cock. he pulses inside you, and you whine before slumping right against his broad lap. the ancient markings that perfectly decorate his skin graze against your back and you whimper before he starts to feel his breathing pick up. “f—fuck, bare around me like that, good girl, goooood,” and as he still has your spasming hips in place, he spanks your ass before it finally arises. sukuna shoots inside of your cunt, a hefty amount of cum that spits right inside of your folds. “. . ah,” he gasps, and for a second you could almost hear him whine. you jitter your hips forward a bit, making sure a drop doesn’t spill out before he snickers right against your ear, lifting you up from his lap to realign himself. “cute. but let’s try to make you even more full with two cocks, yeah?”
☆ GOJO SATORU
he wouldn’t even realize he has a breeding kink until he’s literally guts deep inside of you.
gojo’s a simple man, he likes to return home from a long mission + day at work to his pretty wife. correction, his pretty wife with no panties underneath. the moment he crosses your path near the kitchen, he brings you into a rough kiss, hands finding its way towards the back of your ass. he gives it a tight squeeze, leading you straight towards the bed—he doesn’t even have to say a single word either.
he’s a simple man, he knows what he wants, and he wants you.
“t-toruuu,” you’d gasp out, scratching up his back with various marks. he never minded, if anything it only turns him on. he was so deep, a feral gaze meets yours—hooded eyes and he’s breathing in and out, cloudy puffs of air ghost from his lips as his thick cock just pounds straight into you at full throttle. missionary—a simple yet straight forward position that he always loved to do whenever he was feeling lazy. especially now, your legs were cutely raised up, weight bouncing and bouncing as he briefly holds up your leg to run his tongue against your ankle. “fuck, fuck, fuckkk.”
he’s whimpering himself, white strands sticking to his forehead like hot glue before he rocks against you further—clenching his perfectly chiseled jaw as he hitched his breath. “ohhh fuck, ‘s good, ‘m gonna cum again, baby. so wet, gonna milk the shit out of me.” and his hips frantically stutter, right in front of your eyes—you squeeze him with all your might before momentarily, he dumps another sloppy load into you again. by now, you lost track—you were just stuffed, hot cum seeps and dribbles out of your swollen glistening cunt before he leans into your neck. “. . . ugh,” and he sounds like a alluring harmony, even his grunts were blissful and melodic. “not enough, still not enough for my baby.”
“so full, ‘toru,” you’d mewl out, shivering once he softly bites his pearly whites into your neck. doing so, his own muffles and a certain itch in your brain gets scratched once the crown of his dick batters strenuously against your most sweetest spot. “ohmygod right there, please.“
“y-yeah?” he swallows, and his cologne runs against your nostrils—even his loud scent had you drenched, you throb as he frowns once he suddenly feels his own seed pouring all down your thighs. he stares at it and it’s so much, with a cute attempt to fuck it back into you—his hips grind slowly against you, a soft little pout stretching against his pink lips as your legs wrap around his slim waist oh so tightly. “i missed this,” he rasps, and he starts to ram his cock into you again. it goes on for hours—with gojo satoru, stamina for him is practically non-existent. “i missed my f-favorite pussy so bad, fuckkk.”
so whiney, he couldn’t help it. your tongue lolls out and you’re sure he’s already broken you—you whine at his rhythmic speed. it’s so hypnotic, it’s so salacious. the way his hips dance against yours at such a rough pace was just purely euphoric. clammy hands of yours grab onto his bulky thighs and you you moan before you end up being too loud so he covers your hand, whispering lowly. “listen to it with me.”
so you do—you grow quiet the moment his big hand goes against your face, shielding your moans any further and the bed just squeaks in squeaks. as if your body was in sync, in harmony with his, minutes pass before he ends up cumming again. gojo’s buried all the way down to the hilt, fat balls smacking against your entrance in such a mean way before you hear the little squelches spurt right into you. it was so messy, he looks down before pressing a hand against your plump tummy. “god, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he utters in a hoarse voice, leaning in to kiss all over your face. you’re so dizzy—your cunt was now over flooding with nothing but his thick cum. “we’re gonna have the prettiest babies, promise.”
and then he watches as you try to catch your breath, sprawled all out whilst he’s still inside of you—dick still twitching inside before he kisses the tip of your nose. “you’d be such a good mommy for me, such a good mommy for satoru fuckin’ gojo.”
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hylianengineer · 19 hours
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Hey, happy Earth Day! Who wants to talk about climate change?
Yeah, okay, fair, I kinda figured the answer to that would be "ugh do we have to?" What if I told you I have good news though? Good news with caveats, but still good news.
What if I told you that since the Paris Agreement in 2015, we've avoided a whole degree celsius of global warming by 2100, or maybe more?
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Current projections are 2.7C, which is way better than the 3-5C (with a median of 3.7C) we were expecting in 2015. It's not where we want to be - 1.5C - but it is big, noticeable progress!
And it's not like we either hit 1.5C and avoid all the big scary consequences or fail to hit 1.5C and get all of them - every tenth of a degree of warming we avoid is going to prevent more severe problems like extreme weather, sea level rise, etc.
This means that climate change mitigation efforts are having a noticeable impact! This means a dramatically better, safer future - and if we keep pushing, we could lower the amount of global warming we end up with even further. This is huge progress, and we need to celebrate it, even though the fight isn't over.
It's working. Keep going.
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yuujispinkhair · 2 days
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Sukuna’s the type of baby daddy that even if you break you never really broke up 😭 and if you got pregnant again there no chance in hell it could be anyone else’s kid besides his
The love you and Sukuna have is world-changing. Even after you break up, you are both still stuck on the other and unable to move on.
Pairing: Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Hurt + comfort, fluff, mentions of smut Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, mentions of smut but nothing explicit. Reader and Sukuna break up, but they get back together at the end of the story. There is a happy end. They already have a daughter together, and another pregnancy is mentioned at the end. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear
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It's not that you aren't trying to get over Sukuna. You really do. After a week of crying your eyes out, you decide to go out. It's not even that hard to get chatted up by some guy at a bar. But when his hand lands on your knee, you practically bolt. It feels so wrong, so dirty somehow. As if your body is still Sukuna's territory and no one else is worthy of touching you.
You try again a week later and the week after, too. But none of the men you meet spark your interest. Maybe this shouldn't come as a surprise. After all, only a few weeks ago, you had Sukuna. You had the best. There simply is no one who can compare to him. No one will ever make you feel the way Sukuna did.
You regret the breakup. It was stupid. Just small things that accumulated over several weeks, combined with a bad day at work and Sukuna being grumpy when you got home. You could have handled it differently.
But now, your bed always feels cold, and your heart doesn't seem to be in your chest anymore. Instead, there is a stone in your chest, heavy and painful, while your heart is in another part of this city, in the hands of the man who will always be the one for you, even if you will never get back together with him again.
+++
Sukuna asks to see his child, but you feel unable to face him, so you cowardly text him back, telling him to just pick your daughter up from kindergarten and spend the afternoon with her. When Sukuna brings her home in the evening, you are relieved that he seems to have gotten the hint. He doesn't come inside but waits at the front door as your daughter runs up the stairs to your apartment.
But you aren't strong enough not to hurry to the large window that faces the street, gazing outside to see Sukuna's familiar tall, broad figure slowly stroll down the street toward his car. His pink hair looks just like the cherry blossoms that fall down onto the road like pretty, pink snowflakes.
You know you will never be able to look at cherry trees again without feeling sadness wash over you.
Maybe you will try going on another date with some new guy, but deep down, you know that it will be in vain. It will always feel wrong. It will always feel like something is missing. Because none of those men are Sukuna. No one can be like him. There is only one Sukuna. Everyone else will always just be second best.
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Sukuna isn't even trying to get over you. Not anymore.
On the first night after your breakup, he was a mess and stormed off to some bar, desperate for a distraction. Anything that would keep him from getting overwhelmed by his feelings.
He had some drinks and flirted with a random girl. Even took her home, thinking that sex would help him feel better. But the moment she tried to unbutton his shirt, Sukuna grabbed her wrists and stopped her.
It felt wrong. He felt wrong. As if he was cheating on you. He told the girl to leave and watched with his arms crossed as she angrily slammed his door shut before Sukuna sank down on his couch and buried his face in his hands.
He knew right then and there that it was no use to go out and try to have hookups. It wouldn't work, and it sure as hell would only make him feel worse.
In the following weeks, Sukuna worked longer and spent more time at the gym, always trying to stay busy because as soon as he got home to his deadly silent apartment, he was drowning in thoughts about you. Drowning in all those happy memories the two of you had made over the years.
You were Sukuna's love, his heart, his everything. He hadn't known or understood love until he met you. So how is he supposed to ever get over you and move on? It's impossible. You are still his everything, and you will always be.
And so it's clear as day to Sukuna that he won't even try to move on. He knows he will always be yours, whether you are together or not. He was only able to give his heart away once. And even if you don't want it anymore, it still belongs to you.
+++
Sukuna spends two days every week with his daughter, happy to see his little girl but sad because he misses the time when all three of you did things together. And when she looks at him with your eyes and asks him, "Daddy, why don't you just come home again?" Sukuna feels his heart shatter into a million pieces.
Sukuna doesn't know what to tell her. He, too, can't understand why the two of you decided to break up. It was stupid. Nothing big caused it. Just small things that added up, and looking back they seem insignificant.
"I don't know, princess. Maybe Daddy should really go home and talk to Mommy."
He decides at that moment that he will get roses and come up to your door this evening.
+++
Sukuna's chest feels painfully tight when you open the door, and he sees your face again after all those weeks, hitting him with just how much he missed you.
He hands you the roses, a beautiful huge bouquet that cost a little fortune, his eyes gazing deeply into yours,
"Please take those flowers. They come without any obligation to take me back or even talk to me. But I want to give them to you because you are still the mother of my child. And... and you will always be my woman, just like I will always be your man, even if we aren't together."
He fears he sounds like a creep, that he overstepped a boundary, and that he made you uncomfortable. But he has had lots of time to think during the last few weeks, and he promised himself that he would be more open about his feelings if he ever gets a chance to talk to you again.
You stare at Sukuna for a moment that feels like hours to him. But then he sees the tears gathering in your eyes and sees the way your hand that's holding the flowers is trembling. You breathe a soft "Kuna..." and Sukuna knows. He knows that you are still his, just like he is still yours.
He pulls you into his arms a split second later, crushing the beautiful roses between your bodies as he hugs you tightly. And you melt so perfectly against him as if you are made for him. Your face is pressed against his broad chest, and you snuggle against him, every centimeter of you touching him. You cling to him so tightly that it's almost painful, but it's the first time since your breakup that Sukuna feels like he can breathe again.
"I am sorry. I am so sorry for everything."
You both speak the words at the same time, eyes locked, small relieved smiles playing around your mouths.
You tell Sukuna to stay for dinner, and he agrees. He takes over the kitchen again, his kitchen, and prepares a dinner that he knows his two girls always loved. He sits at your table again, jokes around with his little daughter, and basks in the way you look at him with your eyes full of happiness.
Sukuna doesn't just stay for dinner but stays the whole night.
He kisses you after the two of you bring your daughter to bed. Pushes you gently against the wall and claims your lips again, though deep down, he knows that those lips always belonged to him, even when you were apart.
He grins when you laugh when he picks you up and carries you princess-style to the bedroom. Your lips are on his again, kissing him as if you can't get enough of him, making it hard to walk, but Sukuna would find his way to your bedroom even blind.
He locks the door behind you, turning around only to find your hands on his chest, unbuttoning his shirt while your lips find his again in another passionate but tender kiss that makes Sukuna moan softly into your mouth.
He makes slow love to you in the bed you bought together all those years ago, showing you what it feels like to be loved and desired and cherished endlessly. And you wrap your arms and legs around him and meet each of his slow thrusts while you moan his name softly, and tears run down your cheeks, showing Sukuna the same love he is showing you.
Sukuna doesn't leave again after that night.
The two of you talk things out, and only a week later, Sukuna finally puts a ring on your finger and tells your little daughter that she needs to pick a pretty dress because she will be a flower girl at the wedding.
And only a month later, you place a positive pregnancy test on Sukuna's pillow, making both of you burst out laughing when you realize that you and Sukuna must have made another baby that first night when he came back and brought you the roses.
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Thank you so much for the ask! It made me feel so many things, so I had to get these feelings out and write this little story 😭 I hope you enjoyed it and that it made you emotional, too. How could there ever be anyone else after Sukuna? It's really not possible 😭
Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗
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propertyofwicked · 3 days
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FIX THAT ATTITUDE - LN
warnings: smut !! MDNI !! semi public sex, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), withholding orgasms, overstim, light choking, unprotected sex, implied aftercare
3.4k words (sorry i had a LOT to say) (not proof read)
masterlist
thank u for 1k!! lemme know if u want more fluff/smut content in the comments - my inbox is also open for requests! <3
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“you wanna fix that attitude before i fuck it out of you?” lando whispered harshly in her ear, his hands resting on her hips as he stood behind her. to anyone looking at them, the exchange looked nothing more than a romantic moment between the young couple, but y/n knew better.
she had barely seen him for 3 weeks, with him travelling for races, and then training and meetings when he was home, her behaviour was a cry for help.
she’d tried everything. brushing past his crotch when she walked past him, bending over in front of her vanity to apply her lipstick, even hiking her dress up dangerously high when she sat in the passenger seat of his car, dragging her fingers up his veiny arms when his hand came to rest on her thigh. but still, he didn’t react, he simply smiled at her like she was an angel, softly stroking the top of her thigh without even a second glance in her direction.
she didn’t want to be treated like an angel, she didn’t want soft. she wanted to be fucked from every angle, covered in their sweat. she wanted him to use her until she was sore, legs shaking, clawing at his bare skin for anything to ground her in reality.
so, y/n got to work. complimenting oscar on his suit, smiling a little much and for a little too long at any man that approached her, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers throughout entire conversations, all whilst ignoring lando, only acknowledging him when she wanted another drink.
he wasn’t stupid, he caught on quickly, but he let her continue. she’d get what she wanted, but he wanted her to work for it. he was jealous, sure, but he trusted her to not take it too far, and god did he find it amusing watching her try so hard to provoke a reaction from him.
“you wanna fix that attitude before i fuck it out of you?”
the unwavering grip on her hip, sure to leave bruises - even through the layers of her dress - lando’s glares and tensed jaw. was she scared? no. was this exactly the reaction she was hoping for? well, she hadn’t worn that short black dress that dropped a little too low on her chest for lando to simply open the door for her and hold her hand like a gentleman. she wanted him, and she wanted him bad. she was desperate for any ounce of his attention.
“i’d love to see you try,” she whispered in response, tilting her head back to rest on his shoulder, so her words could only be heard by him, her back arching as she did. he pulled her waist in roughly, rolling his hips into her slightly.
“you think anyone here could have you writhing underneath them like i do? you think they could make you feel so good you forget your own name? i’d love to see them try,” he added, sending shivers down her spine and straight to the base of her stomach. he said no more, instead, he moved to stand beside her, taking her hand in his and guiding them to sit in a nearby booth. oscar sat opposite them, glancing up in concern at the red flush rising on y/n’s face.
“y/n? you good?” he asked.
“she doesn’t feel too good,” lando answered for her, his hand resting on her thigh, “combination of a long day and too much socialising, i think,” he adds, his eyebrows raising at her when he mentioned socialising.
“you know me,” she interjects, taking the chance to speak for herself, “social situations without a drink in my hand don’t mix.”
the men chuckled lightly at her response, before discussing an upcoming meeting that oscar had forgotten about, all the while, lando’s fingers toyed with the base of her dress, pushing the material further and further up her legs. she was thankful that the large table and dim lighting hid the way her hips rolled into his hand as his fingers came to stroke over the lace of her underwear. he pulled his hand away quickly, moving to grab his drink as she whimpered quietly at the loss of contact.
“you ok, angel?” lando asked her, feigning innocence, as he held the back of his hand up to her forehead, “y/n, you’re burning up,” he added, biting back a smirk.
“there’s an outside area, through that door there,” oscar told them, pointing to his left, “get some fresh air, it might help.”
“thanks, mate,” lando said, pulling the girl up to stand, her hands tugging her dress back down as he did, “ill see you later, yeah?”
the boys nodded a quick bye at each other as the couple walked in the direction of the door, the fresh air engulfing the two of them as the door closed behind them.
“you need to learn to behave yourself,” lando started, glancing around at the empty patio before pushing her roughly against a nearby wall, “whimpering like that when i barely touched you.”
“im sorry,” she replied, kissing his jaw lightly.
“you’re sorry? no, you wanted this. acting up all night like a desperate little whore,” he spat, before pressing a harsh kiss to her lips, his tongue moving into her mouth as their teeth clashed slightly from the force. the kiss was messy and heated, one hand resting on her jaw, the other on her waist as his rolled his hips into hers. she moaned into his mouth, tugging lightly at his curls as he pulled her leg up, his hardening bulge grazing her lace panties, exposed as her dressed rolled further up her thighs.
“not here,” he groaned in her ear, pulling back and letting her leg drop for her to stand.
“you didn’t care before,” she retorted, her hands grabbing at his jaw to kiss him again, “playing with me in front of oscar like that.”
“not risking someone walking out and seeing what’s mine,” he said again, grabbing her hand before walking around to the valet. y/n trailed behind him, taking large steps in a bid to keep up with his pace with only his arm to leverage the distance he put between them.
the car ride was tense, the silence heavy as she waited for lando to do something, anything. instead, both hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. the anticipation had her clit pulsing, blood running hard and fast through her body as she sought for any friction to relieve her. y/n wriggled in her seat, repositioning herself over and over again with no such luck.
“is my pretty girl so desperate she can’t even sit still?” lando taunted, glancing to his side to watch as she sat fully upright, shoes abandoned in the footwell. she brought one leg up on the seat, her head resting on her knee as her free hand moved over the grab his from the steering wheel.
“please, lan,” she begged, guiding his hand to rest on her thigh.
“we’re almost there,” he countered, yet his hand still gripped at the flesh of her thigh, releasing only to stroke his fingers along the skin, closer to her heat.
“just do something, please lan. i’ll do anything you want, just need you now please,” she said, pleading with him again. his fingers grazed her panties finally, pulling the fabric to the side as his fingers slid through her folds softly, coating his fingertips in the wetness she’d built up throughout the evening.
“so desperate, so wet for me,” he said, rubbing small circles into her clit as he patronised her, “couldn’t just behave for one night could you? just had to try and rile me up to get your way, huh?”
“just missed you is all,” she panted out, head rolling back as he pinched at her clit, she was getting close, “wanted you all night, just you.”
“too late for you to act cute, y/n,” he warned, “you wanted this. you’ll get what you want, you just need to be taught a lesson.”
he pulled his hand away, resting it on the back of her head rest as he turned to reverse into the parking spot. she whimpered at the loss of contact, having her climax snatched away from her, her sounds sending blood rushing back to his cock.
this was a game they played, he was never truly mad at her, he knew her bids to make him jealous were just that - bids. he’d do anything to see her smile, anything to be close to her, anything to show his gratitude for every little thing she does for him. if she wanted it rough, she’d get it rough. if she wanted gentle, he’d be gentle.
and right now, she wanted him between her legs.
lando pushed her down on their bed, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her heat closer to him. he pulls at the sides of her panties, toying with the fabric before slowly pulling them down her legs when she moans at him to hurry up. she’s resting on her forearms, staring down at him as he rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up, her hair falling down her back as she rolls her hips up, desperate for him.
“patience, angel. taking my time with you,” he says, breaking the silence. he wraps an arm around her leg, pulling it over his shoulder as he rests his forearm over her stomach, stopping her wriggling. his finger returns to her folds, still slick from earlier, as he pushes a digit inside her, feeling the stretch around him. he pumps into her a few times, before adding a second finger, twisting them into her, feeling the way her walls contracted around them.
“more, please,” she moaned out. he simply chuckled at her.
he ignored her, fingers never faltering as he curled them up in her, hitting a spot that had her struggling to arch her back as he pinned her down into the mattress. he moved his head closer to her heat, dropping it to the side to rest on her leg, lightly kissing at her inner thigh and nipping at the skin. his eyes flittering from looking into hers before moving back to watch as his fingers disappeared inside her. she tightened around him, her breathing heavier as she got closer to finishing.
lando retracted his fingers, pushing her leg from his shoulder as he stood to look down at her.
“what the fuck?” she stated as her orgasm slipped away from her for the second time this evening.
“i told you. good girls get to cum. whores get taught a lesson,” he replied, hovering over her as he pushed the same two fingers into her mouth. she whined at him, muffled as her tongue ran along them, tasting herself.
he moved back, eyes dropping to her chest as he pulled her dress down. he stopped at her breasts, thankful for the lack of bra, as the tight material pushed the flesh upwards, her nipples hardening as he leant down to blow softly on them. one hand propped himself up, the other moved to grasp at the flesh, squeezing it roughly. his head dropped, taking her other nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around them, teeth nipping at the surrounding skin. he dropped his grip on her other breast, fingers moving to tug at her, her back arching, chest rising into his touch.
“love these,” lando groaned, pulling away to look down at her again. her hair fanned around her head, chest rising and falling with hesitant breaths. he dropped to his knees again, face to face with her heat. with no warning, his face dove into her folds, licking a stripe from her hole, nose nudging at her clit.
“taste so good,” he mumbled, though he doubted she heard him, as he moved back to circle his tongue around her clit. his hands pawed at her thigh again, gripping the flesh as she pulled her legs up, wrapping them over his shoulders. lando’s free hand reached up, gripping her breast again, fingers flicking at her nipple. he could hear her moaning out his name, almost like a chant, his trousers growing unbearably tight.
“lan- fuck, so good.”
he groaned in response, sending vibrations through her heat. her legs tightened around his head, desperate for more, trying to hold on to her orgasm.
“im gonn-”
“hold it.” he said, slapping at her thigh lightly.
“i can-” she started, words halted as her climax washed over her. she tried to hold it, but the overstimulation from the previous assaults took over, pushing her to her finish, legs tightening further around his head as her hips rolled up. his nose brushing her clit again as she rode out her high, using his face.
when she caught her breath, her legs relaxed. lando crawled up her body, his crotch pressing against her heat as he did. he held back a moan.
“i told you to hold it,” he said, hand coming to squeeze lightly at the base of her throat.
“i know, im sorry, i tried, im sorry,” she rambled, panting in between each statement.
“i know you tried,” he cooed at her, mocking, as her hands came to undo the buttons of his shirt, pushing the material away from him. his sat back on his knees, taking the shirt off and launching it across the room as she sat back up, resting on her forearms.
she glanced down at his crotch, noticing the way his bulge strained against his suit trousers, the pressure enough that the zip was starting to roll down by itself. y/n’s hand reached out, palming him through the material before fiddling to unzip them fully, tugging the button out from the loop.
“let me make it up to you,” she begged, eyes blown wide as she stared up into his. he nearly folded at the sight, a groan getting caught in the back of his throat. he didn’t respond, he simply leaned forward, laying her back down on the bed as he pressed a heated kiss to her lips, his tongue grazing her bottom lip before pulling back to press kisses along her jaw, his hand returning to squeeze the base of her neck, harder this time.
“not tonight,” he groaned in her ear, rolling his hips over hers slightly.
lando tried to keep up the poker face but she pouted at him, turning her face, as her eyes questioned him. his head dropped to her neck again, sucking lightly at the skin.
“if i even think about you with my cock rammed down your throat, ill cum - and i’d quite like to feel that tight pussy around my dick,” he laughed softly, as did she, her smile sending warmth spreading through his stomach.
her legs raised around his back rolling the two over so that she straddled his waist, his hips jutting upwards at the weight of her sat on his clothed cock. he wriggled the two of them up the bed, so that he sat upright against the headboard, his trousers shuffling down in the processes, his boxers soon after.
his cock sprang up, hitting his stomach. y/n isn’t sure he’s ever been this hard. hell, lando isn’t sure he’s ever been this hard.
her hand moved to him, thumb running over his tip spreading pre cum down his shaft, his sensitivity causing him to momentarily forget who was supposed to be in charge. lando’s hands moved to grab hers, pulling them up to rest on his shoulders, before dropping them back to her waist to raise her hips up above his cock.
“you cum when i say you can,” he stated, eyes staring directly into hers, her eyelids fluttering from exhaustion. she nodded at him. his free hand lined his tip at her entrance, running it through her folds a few times to use her slick to prepare himself. she began lowering her hips, assuming she was taking the lead. however, when she had taken only half of his shaft, his hands gripped her hips, pushing her roughly down, filling her completely.
“fuck,” she whined, as he continued to pull at her hips, the two of them working together to maintain the pace he set as she slid up and back down his cock. his moans filled the room, his head rolling back slightly at the feeling of her tight walls clamping around him every time he bottomed out. one of her hands gripped the headboard, the other playing with the curls at the back of his head as he leant back forwards to take her nipple in his mouth, a free hand helping to grip at her flesh.
“lan, fuck. too big,” y/n whimpered again, as his hips moved to thrust up into her, taking back control of the situation.
“too big?” he laughed, “never complained before,” he added before pressing a kiss on her jaw.
his hand moved back up to her neck, finger stroking the small bruises forming on her skin.
“you think anyone else could fuck you like this?” he asked, his grip around her neck tightening, her eyes shutting at the overwhelming pleasure racking her whole body.
“eyes open,” he told her, and she pried her eyes open to stare into his. her pupils were blown, and he imagined his looked the same, noises escaped her open mouth, no longer able to form words.
“good girl, taking me so well,” he praised her, noticing the way her body began to slump, her walls tightening around his cock as he continued his brutal thrusts into her, “who else could make you feel this good?” he asked her, but she simply whimpered in response, words caught in the back of her throat.
his hand left her neck, slapping softly as her cheek as her eyes closed again.
“who else?” he asked again, tone harsh.
“no one,” she stuttered, “only you.”
“good girl. you gonna come for me?”
she nodded desperately, no longer sure if she was asking him or telling him.
“can you hold it for a little longer?” he asked, eyes looking softly into hers despite the intensity of the pace he set, “wanna come with you.”
“please, lan. i need t-”
“i know,” he leveraged with her, “im almost there baby,” he added, fingers dropping to toy with her overstimulated clit, her body arching forwards so that her head rested on his shoulder, arms tightly wrapping around his back.
she felt his thrusts falter, his pace slowing as his jutted up into her inconsistently.
“that’s it, baby. come with me, come for me.”
she felt herself let go, waves of climax washing over her again as her entire body shook around him. the walls of her heat, tightening and relaxing as she finished, the feeling pulling lando to his own finishes, each contraction milking his cock as ropes of cum shot into her.
the couple fell silent, lando remained inside of her as she curled into him further, both panting, trying to catch their breaths.
“fuck me that was -” she started, unable to find the words to finish her sentence. she didn’t need to though, he knew what she wanted to say as he hummed in agreement. he rolled the two over, pulling slowly out of her as her face scrunched up from the sting. he looked between the two of them, looking at the mixture of both climaxes coating his own shaft and the top of her thighs, leaking onto her dress slightly.
“you wanna shower?” he asked her, resuming domestic conversation between the two.
“i don’t think i can walk,” she said, smiling, as she rolled onto her back and throwing her arms to either side of her body. she was a sight to behold, fucked out, hair messy and the dress they never took off sat scrunched up around her stomach leaving her mostly exposed. he laughed at the sight, not in jest, but admiration for the woman before him.
“come on,” lando said softly, moving round to her side of the bed, “let’s get you cleaned up and into some clean clothes.”
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If You Have Something To Say (Mouse series) - Max Verstappen
Summary: With Max being hit with a new wave of hate as a result of his wins, fans suddenly take a turn on y/n and Max makes it clear that he won't tolerate anyone who has any comments to make about his quiet girlfriend
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Max might be a little bias. He obviously thinks y/n is perfect and that there is no possible way people can dislike her.
But when she went completely silent even towards him part way through the day, he wasn't sure what had happened. On rare occasion she might go silent when she doesn't feel way or she's done something to embarrass herself and doesn't want to address it.
"Hey, mouse." Max smiles pulling his helmet off and kissing her softly. "Can you go to the unit? We'll be getting out of here pretty quickly so I want you to be ready to go."
Y/n nods still not uttering a word before she stands up and rushes from the garage while GP appears for the quick debrief Max requested over the radio.
"Everyting ok?"
"I think she might not be feeling well. I want to get back to the hotel quickly." Max sighs shaking his head before gesturing for them to have a look at the data and discussing plans for FP3.
By the time he gets to her it's been a longer wait than he intended but with no media he can get them straight out of there and to the hotel without much issue.
He doesn't push her to talk as he keeps a tight grip on her hand as they walk through the paddock to leave or even when they're in the car with a drive in the driver's seat. But eventually they're walking into the hotel suite and he sighs watching her throwing her phone down onto the bed.
"Mouse..." Max starts catching her attention and seeing the bloodshot eyes and he almost trips at the speed he moves forward to look at her. "What's wrong? Why are you upset?"
Y/n only manages to take a couple short and stuttered breaths in before tears actually appear.
"I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong. Please talk to me...even if it's just a couple words so I know." Max panics, not just wanting but needing to be able to do whatever he can to stop her from being so upset. "Mouse please? I want to make everything better."
"I keep getting tagged in posts about-about how much people hate me." Y/n hiccups knowing she sounds pathetically childish. If you're going to be a WAG you have to take hate on the chin. Especially if she wants to be in a relationship with Max, one of the most hated drivers.
"Can you show me?" Max asks since he knows there's only more hurt and upset that can come from forcing her to tell him what people are actually saying.
Y/n picks up her phone and hands it to him hitting Twitter first before he flicks over to her Instagram tags and even on TikTok, which he doesn't personally spend a lot of time on but he knows y/n actually loves watching edits of him. On more than one occasions she's squeaked being caught in the act of watching them but it's definitely amusing from his end.
But all the posts and comments that she's tagged in are saying that she's rude and stuck up and the fact she won't talk to anyone isn't because she's just quiet and shy but because she thinks she's better than everyone. Especially the other drivers and even more towards the mechanics and lower paid jobs within the team.
"What a joke." Max mutters then sighing as he looks at y/n who is sniffling and wiping at tears that are still falling. "They don't even know you, Mouse. They have no idea who you are and they don't get to comment about it."
"I know." Y/n hiccups as Max moves back to her and just hugs her tightly, resting his chin on top of her head as she tries to calm herself down. "But people think that's how I am."
"They're just trying to get at you because I love you and they like to ruin nice things." Max whispers hating that he's really the source of this. He's why she'll get hate and even if every driver and every person in the team told the world that y/n is not stuck up and she's just shy and quiet. They wouldn't believe it because they believe what they want to believe even if it's entirely conspiracy and has no real evidence. "I'm sorry, mouse. This is my fault."
"No."
"They're just trying to hurt you because you're dating me." Max cements shaking his head before he kisses the top of her head, still holding her tightly. "I'll try and fix this."
"It'll probably just make it worse."
That's true. Usually as soon as you feed into their agenda the fans are like pirañas. If they know what they're trying to do to upset someone is working, they'll make it a point to really go in on that method of causing upset.
"I'm just going to private all my accounts and delete the apps for a bit." Y/n mumbles earning a sigh since she shouldn't have to do that just to try and take care of herself and stop herself from seeing the unwarranted attacks on her character from fans.
"I'm still going to tell them to stop." Max sighs then looking down. "Do you want to order room service?"
"All the desserts?"
"Yeah mouse, all the desserts." Max smiles lightly since if there's one thing that does make y/n happy it's sugar. Which is understandable because who doesn't love the comfort that a sugar buzz brings.
He does manage to cup her face and get a few kisses before reaching and grabbing the room service menu. He'll be doing the ordering but he definitely needs her to see what she wants before he calls for it.
-
Max and his team along with the Red Bull team all put out statements telling the world to stop making comments and digitally harassing y/n. She didn't see any of it, since she went through with her plan to just go off grid for a bit.
But there was certainly chatter about Max's out of character move to essentially tell everyone to shut the fuck up.
"Hey, mate. Everything alright?" Daniel asks as they stand together in the driver's parade. "I saw a lot of statements coming out. Is y/n ok?"
"Not really. The things they've been saying about her are just bullshit, they're making stuff up and they don't even know her." Max huffs shaking his head. "She knows it's not true but everyone saying it is just upsetting her that she thinks people really believe that stuff about her."
"That's rough." Daniel winces since he recalls Lando's girlfriend getting whole hate pages and ultimately it cost them their relationship because he couldn't handle putting her through that amount of hate.
Y/n is much more soft natured and even Daniel has a limited recall of how many times he even knows for certain that he's heard her voice. Initially he was actually a little offended till he realised everyone get such treatment in general. The fact he'd even heard her voice was a sign that she actually didn't hate him or fear being around him.
"Is she at the race today?"
"Yeah, but I've told her to just stick to watching in the unit. I think it's better if she just stays away from cameras as much as possible. The less attention on her the better hopefully."
After the parade, Max heads over to unit quickly just wanting to check on her one last time before he's gotta stay out in the garage and take the car out on track.
"Hey, mouse. You look comfortable." Max laughs since she's somewhat got the unit to herself. Definitely the room to view the race with the biggest screen in the unit.
"I am." Y/n smiles as he leans down to kiss her softly. "I didn't think you'd be coming back."
"I just want to check on you."
Y/n smiles before he nods mumbling for her to wish him luck though her expression gives him a silent message of "don't pretend you need a wish of good luck" and he steals another kiss before jogging back out the unit.
It's not exactly comforting for him to have to feel the need to step in when she is receiving hate all because of her connection with him. But Max will always protect his mouse. She's his world and honestly he really thinks if she wanted to stop coming to races he'd quit just to follow her wherever she wanted to be.
If she left him because of the hate, oh he'd make every driver and fans worst nightmare come true of really bringing back Mad Max. Anyone who crossed him whether it being in practice, qualifying or a race. He'd do whatever to ruin their race. Hell he'd probably go out of his way to ruin the entire field's race...aside from Yuki, maybe he'd like to have Yuki up there.
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luveline · 2 days
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omg i love ur pregnant reader x hotch esp the flangsty ones…
maybe him and reader get into a little argument and the fighting plus the hormones plus the constant discomfort makes her leave to stay at a friend’s house for “space” (maybe someone in the bau hehe) then he shows up and grovels and they kiss and make up <333
ty for requesting! —hotch and pregnant!reader make up after a fight (neither being quite as mad as they’d claimed).
“Your boyfriend’s outside.” 
You raise your tired head from the couch cushion. “Who?” 
Morgan grins at you. “Hotch, mama. He’s at the door.” 
Hotch is your husband, not your boyfriend. You’ve got the ring to prove it. 
“You didn’t let him in?” 
“He said you might not want to see him.” 
You want to see Hotch more than you’ve ever wanted to see another person. It is absolute torture to be so heavily pregnant with someone’s baby and to worry they don’t want you anymore. If he’s here at such a late hour, he must’ve forgiven you for being grumpy. Right? 
You sit up and let Morgan help you into a standing position. He pulls your blanket tight around your shoulders. “Should I let him in?” he asks.
“Yeah.” You drop your voice to a whisper, “But don’t let him know I’m eager.” 
He gives you a knowing smirk. “Course not. Stay here, okay? I’ll bring him in.” 
Morgan starts back down the hall. You stand in his living room wondering what Hotch is gonna say, if he’s still mad, if you’re still mad, and if he’s strong enough to carry you back to the car. You don’t wanna sleep in Morgan’s bed, as much as you love him. You want your bed, your Hotch, his baby boy snoring in the room across the hall. You love your life (most of the time, when you aren’t carrying the weight of a bowling ball on your abdomen and the hormones aren’t making you sick). 
“Hello,” Hotch says, still in the suit he’d been wearing when he got home that evening, strangely and obviously nervous where he stops in the doorway. 
“Hi. Where’s Jack?” 
“He went with Jess. I needed to talk to you.” 
“Could’ve brought Jack.” 
“I didn’t want to upset him if you stayed here.” 
You nod. Hotch —who’d cringe if he knew you still called him that in your head, though it’s the name he went by when you fell in love, so what are you supposed to do?— gestures for you to sit, not demanding, only concerned. “It’s late,” he says. 
You can’t be bothered to lower yourself awkwardly into the cushion nest you’d made. “Morgan offered me his bed. He has a California king.” 
“But you stayed on the couch.” 
You glare at him half-heartedly. “Maybe I was watching TV.” You’d been waiting for him to call, but it’s not his business.
He doesn’t seem perturbed by your reaction. He's about to apologise anyways. “I’m sorry for getting mad. I know how stressed you are, and I should’ve done better.” 
Your glare softens. 
“I’m sorry I upset you,” he furthers, the ever present pinch of his brows particularly severe. His eyes are dark like clouds full to bursting with rain. 
You don’t want to say it’s okay. You want him to cross the room and cuddle you up like you’re fragile, the way he does, his nose pressed to your temple as his hands grasp up your achy shoulders. 
“I’ll be better,” he says. 
“You really wound me up, you know? I already feel like I have cabin fever.” 
His eyes cast over you, sympathetic and sorry down to your stomach and up again. He’s pleading without speaking. 
You’re not mad anymore, anyhow. “Can you do that thing for me, please?” you ask quietly. 
Hotch crosses the distance between you and encourages you into his side and under his arm. Careful, he bends into your back, pressing his hand under the round bottom of your bump and pulling up. It takes some of the weight from your hips and spine, alleviating a certain heavy pain and discomfort, while also closing the sour gap between you both. 
“Aaron,” you say, a little shy, mostly relieved, “you should’ve brought Jack. You know I’ll come home if you ask me to. I wasn’t even that mad by the time we got back here.” 
His breath is a shudder by your ear. “I love you.” 
“I love you too.” You look out toward the hall. “Where’s Morgan?” 
“He said he’d go for a walk.” 
“He's a good friend.” 
“He’s a great friend,” Hotch agrees, rubbing the side of you with his other hand before he pulls away completely. “He told me you can always sleep over when I’m acting like your drill sergeant.” 
You laugh under your breath, leaning in with arms held up to slide over his shoulder. He lets out a sigh as your chests touch, your bump smushed, like he’s finally been cut from a trap. To think he’d be so clearly relieved at having your forgiveness has you emotional all over again, but not with the same red passion you’d been angry with before. “I’m your drill sergeant,” you mumble into his shoulder. 
“You’re my sweetheart,” he says, so quiet you’re sure it wasn’t him, so out of character to admit something like that on a random day. There’s a hint of joking under it, but enough sincerity simultaneously that you melt in his hold. “You are, and I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t sleep in your own bed.” 
“It’s not like I’d have been put out. Morgan’s got a California–”
“So you’ve told me.” His palm stays flat to your back, his fingers patting you gently. His voice mellows into that silken gentleness to match, the tone that drew you in and has you in such a terribly emotional position to begin with. “I couldn’t leave you here. I know you’d be more than comfortable, but I couldn’t sleep the night without you.” 
“Imagine how I feel when you’re away.” 
“I know. I know.” He kisses the skin shy of your eye. “Should we go and get Jack before bedtime?” 
“Can we get something to eat, too?” 
His answering smile is a curve on your cheek. “Mm-hm,” he hums. “Let me just say thanks to Morgan. Then we can go wherever you want.”
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lxvvie · 3 days
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Couples Shit with Simon Riley, Lovably Pissed Grumpy Cat Editon:
cw: alcohol and alcoholic consumption
If you thought sober Simon had grumpy cat tendencies, drunk Simon is on another level of grumpy cattiness, complete with the way he'll look up and squint his eyes in catty judgment every time you cease to stop scratching his scalp. Fuck you stop for, lovie?
Simply put: Splooting and snoring. On you.
Simon getting the munchies after a night out and snacking on your favorite snacks, y'know, the ones that don't (lovingly) hold a candle to his? Simon confesses that actually yeah, you do have good taste in food and you're the reason why his taste buds aren't so shitty anymore. The food choices are just one more thing to lovingly bicker about, sweetheart.
Your big bear of a soldier being a bit more talkative than normal while pissed. It's not uncommon for you two to be laid up, staring at the ceiling, and conversing about life. One time, Simon pensively revealed that "Mum and Tommy would've liked you and Pa would've been jealous..."
Similarly, Simon confessing all these life plans he had in mind for the two of you, what he'd do after he left the military, how you two would spend the rest of your lives together, travel, and annoy the Cap'n. Maybe. More than likely. OH, and he can finally stay naked all day and sleep in with you. This being said from the bathroom where he's taking the longest piss known to man. Oh, Simon. ❤️
Hand holding. Drunk Simon really loves to hold your hand. Loves to intertwine your fingers and compare the sizes. Gushes about how soft yours feels compared to his. Always talks about how you two "fuckin' fit" and if he could, he'd hold your hand forever.
Drunk texting you like crazy. Even when he's right beside you. Simon wants you to know that he loves you and that your ass is better than any pillow he's slept on. Er, thank you, Si-bear.
Speaking of drunk texting, remember when he let the fellas know he's a missus now? Yeah, he also spoke of the wedding plans. The Cap'n would give him away, Gaz would be the best man, and Johnny would be the flower girl but because he's, y'know, Soap, he'll just spray bubbles or some shit instead of throwing petals. OH, and that he really wants a Spring wedding but whatever color they choose for said wedding, please don't pick the color purple because it's overrated and washes him out. Huh???
After Simon suggests you two adopt Soap, he comes home with a drunken Johnny in tow and introduces him like he just got him. From somewhere, you guess. Simon goes on and on about how you two have to be good "role models" for Johnny as if he isn't a grown man who had good role models growing up. The picture you snapped of them cuddled up together on the couch (that you later shared with Gaz) sleeping the alcohol off was worth it, and Simon would much rather you and Soap not talk about it. Ever. ("What we have is special, Lt.—" "That'll fuckin' DO—")
Simon telling you that, as your missus, he, too, will wear a wedding band. On his cock. Because you love his cock and you love him. OH, and because he won't lose it when he's deployed. They don't call it a cockring for nothing, lovie.
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heartofjasmina · 2 days
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Fashion designer Bakugou who sees you at his favorite cafe one morning. Your clothes are comfortable and colorful, but they obscure the beauty of your body he tells himself. So he marches over to you, wearing all black and a skull tshirt with heavy combat boots. It doesn't help that he's also drop dead gorgeous, so when he hovers over you and breathes out. "Let me undress you." Your brain short circuits. "I can dress you much better, let me." He doesn't so much ask as he commands, so you find yourself nodding along, unsure why he's interested in you in the first place.
When you get back to his studio he's measuring your figure, his large hot hands skimming over your breasts, your hips, your waist. The more he discovers, your waist would fit perfectly in his hands, and your tits are begging him to taste, the more he struggles to keep professional. He just wanted to have you as a model, he swears to himself. But when he's measuring your ass, he starts to lose it.
"Who the fuck let you out of the house in those grandma clothes when your body is this fucking amazing?"
The words slip out of him in a huff, and you blush bright red. "I-I don't wear grandma clothes." You try to defend yourself, but looking around his studio at the slinky tight fit dresses with corsets and plunging necklines, you realize that yeah- maybe you do wear grandma clothes.
"Just wait until I design something for you, you're going to look even more beautiful. Especially as my date." He's never been nervous asking someone out before, but damnit your curves and sweet, shy personality were a combination he was loathe to let go.
"Your date?" You felt like you were struggling to breathe. The super hot designer wanted to go on a date with you? You knew you were bigger, its not like you're oblivious. But never once did he make you feel lesser for being fat, he just seemed upset that you tried to hide yourself.
"If you'll have me." His voice was suddenly softer, his red eyes gentle as he looks up at you from where he's on his knees, the measuring bunched in his fist.
"Yes." You breathe out, knowing this chance encounter would change your life.
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neil-gaiman · 2 days
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Hi Neil.
I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.
First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.
So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…
Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)
Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.
Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.
(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)
I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.
But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.
I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.
But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.
I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.
It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.
I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.
My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”
But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.
In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.
Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”
As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.
I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…
The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.
So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.
People always say “it’s never too late.”
One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”
I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”
It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.
Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”
But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.
Whew.
So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.
And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.
Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.
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Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)
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alfheimr · 1 day
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My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes
i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:
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this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.
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the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.
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this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.
i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.
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for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.
note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!
note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!
with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?
the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.
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so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.
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these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!
you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.
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this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.
let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.
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gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:
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some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.
for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.
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here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.
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i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?
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i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.
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yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.
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i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.
i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.
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the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.
typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!
this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.
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let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.
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just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?
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reystenius-01 · 3 days
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Sweet and Sour
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Summary: Alexia comes home from that game to a sick reader. Comfort and fluff ensues.
(okay theres a bit of angst as well, i couldn't help myself, im sorry 😭)
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Alexia didn’t know whether to cry, to yell, or to hurl a water bottle against the nearest surface. They had lost. Barça had lost. Their first defeat of the season could not have come at a more dangerous time, in the first leg of the Champions League Semi-Final. 
It was their first home defeat in five years, as well.
And to add salt to the wound, you weren’t around. You weren’t at the game today. You were at home, incredibly ill to the point where looking at a screen hurt your brain. You weren’t there for Alexia to cling onto, to reassure her that everything would come up blaugrana at the end of the day.
At least, though, you were at home, getting better for the second leg. You’d save them, Alexia told herself, as she applauded the fans for coming and attending. The fans deserved better than whatever the hell that performance was out there.
God, it kept replaying in her head. That miss. That fucking miss.
She could’ve levelled it, put her team on some somewhat stable ground for the away leg at Stamford Bridge. A part of her shattered when that ball went wide, it took majority of her willpower to get right back up afterwards. 
The little head-slaps she usually gave Vicky were lighter now, only just. As much as Alexia would love to give Jona a piece of her mind (she’d do that tomorrow at the latest), you were waiting for her at home. 
The mere thought nearly brought her to her knees. 
Though she knew that you would understand, that you would be the usual radiating beam of positivity that you always were despite feeling like you got hit by a truck, a part of her feared that you’d be disappointed, not just of the team, but of her.
Alexia was brought out of her thoughts as Jona walked into the locker room. The usual post-match speeches were given, but a chunk of Alexia’s brain was just all mush after that game. It was mostly a blur, and she could hardly remember what she had said in her own speech. Thankfully, she didn’t need to do media. The last thing she needed right now, especially in her current headspace, was for some reporters trying to bait her into making a scathing comment.
She wanted to go home to you. And at the same time, she didn’t.
The team bus was mostly silent on the way back to the training ground, a few of the girls conversing in hushed tones, some faint music coming from the back of the bus. Alexia hadn’t texted you yet. You needed the sleep, so you could get better and get back to the team.
Salma’s head was on her shoulder, the girl having fallen asleep a few minutes into the bus ride. Alexia’s heart went out to the girl, and she had encouraged her to keep her head up. 
The minutes went by like a blur, and before Alexia knew it, they were back at the training ground. The radio played faintly in her car as she drove back to your shared home, making a quick stop at the pharmacy to pick up your antibiotics, since the pharmacist had called her to let her know that your required dose for tonight was ready.
The first thing Alexia noticed when she got home was the smell of soup. You must’ve made some boxed instant soup or something, her thoughts confirmed when she saw the box and the seasoning packets. There was still some soup left in the pot on the stove. Well, there was dinner sorted.
She set the bag from the pharmacy down on the kitchen counter before heading upstairs to check on you. She quietly entered the bedroom, and saw you curled up in bed, your breathing steady and peaceful. She smiled softly, grateful to see you resting. You could be a little stubborn at times.
Carefully, she approached the bed and sat down beside you, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, also gently holding her hand against your forehead to check on your fever. Thankfully, it wasn’t that bad anymore.
“Hey, amor,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “I’m home.”
You stirred slightly, blinking sleepily as you looked up at her. “Hey, pretty girl,” you murmured, clearing your throat and sitting up a bit so you could lean against the headboard. “How are you? How was the game?”
Alexia hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. She didn't want to disappoint you with the loss, especially when you were just starting to feel better.
“It was... challenging,” she said finally, hating how small she sounded. “But you know how it is. Win some, lose some.”
Your brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering in your eyes. You knew your girlfriend the same way you knew how to breathe. There was no way she’d ever use the words ‘win some, lose some’ to describe a game, especially a Champions League semi-final, at home no less. 
​​You studied her for a moment, your eyes searching her face. “Lex, what's wrong?” you asked gently, sensing her reluctance to talk about it.
Alexia hesitated, her heart heavy with the weight of her missed chance, chewing a little on the inside of her cheek. “I... I had a chance to level the score,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I missed.”
Your heart broke then and there, not because of the loss at all. Your girlfriend, the Alexia Putellas and the two-time Ballon D’or winner looked so… small in front of you. Your expression softened with understanding, and you reached out to take her hand in yours. “Hey, it's okay,” you said soothingly, your voice filled with reassurance. “That’s football, love.”
Alexia noticed you shift closer to her a bit, your thumb stroking the back of her hand gently. You were keeping your distance a bit, not wanting to get your girlfriend sick, even more so now.
“But it was such an important game,” Alexia said, her voice trembling with emotion. “And I let everyone down.”
You shook your head, gently squeezing her hand. “You didn't let anyone down, Lex. You gave it your all out there, and that's all anyone can ask for. We win and lose as a team,” Alexia wasn’t looking at you, but you were looking at her, studying her. You could see her biting her bottom lip to keep herself from crying in front of you. “Mi vida, mírame.”
Alexia nibbled on her lip some more, before shaking her head. Your hand left hers, reaching up to gently hold her chin and encourage her to look at you. “Ale, mi niña bonita. Please look at me.”
She let you turn her face to face yours, and your thumb immediately reaching up to wipe away the tears that were escaping the corners of those gorgeous hazel eyes.
Your heart ached for her. She looked so vulnerable in that moment, and it pained you to see her so torn up over the match. “Alexia, listen to me,” you said, your voice firm but gentle as you wiped away her tears, albeit a little croaky as well. “You are so much more than just one missed chance. You are strong, talented, and resilient. And no matter what happens on the field, I am always going to be proud of you.”
Alexia's breath caught in her throat as she looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
“Don't apologise, amor,” you said softly, shaking your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Alexia shook her head, a shaky sigh escaping her lips. “I just... I hate feeling like I disappointed the team, the fans… and you.”
You reached out, cupping her cheek gently in your hand. “You didn't let anyone down, Ale,” you insisted, completely sure of what you were saying. “You're an incredible player and an amazing captain. And I couldn't be prouder of you–”
You doubled over, turning your head away to cough into your arm, your other hand patting your chest. 
“Amor,” Alexia all but jumped to your side, hand rubbing your back despite you trying to keep her at a distance so that she didn’t get sick.
“I’m…” Another stream of coughs escaped you, and Alexia pulled away briefly to pour you a glass of water. “I’m fine, Ale, thank you.”
You accepted the glass, taking a few sips to soothe the irritation you felt in your throat, massaging it gently. “Maybe you should take some medicine,” she suggested, worry evident for your health.
“After this,” you set the glass on the bedside table, grabbing Alexia’s hands again and getting her to sit beside you. “It's okay to feel disappointed, Lex, but don't let one moment define you. You are capable of so much more than you realise, and I know you know that.”
Tears continued to stream down Alexia's cheeks, but there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes as she listened to your words. “I just want to make you proud,” she admitted, her voice slightly above a whisper, sounding more like herself now.
“Oh, bebita,” you murmured, your voice soft just like your smile as you bunched up your sleeve, wiping at Alexia’s cheeks. “You already make me proud every single day.”
Alexia sniffled, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Even when I miss crucial chances in important games?”
“Even then,” you replied without hesitation, your gaze locked with hers. “Because you give your all out there, and you never give up. You always fight, and fight to make up for it.”
“You always know just what to say,” she whispered, a soft sigh escaping her as she looked at you.
“What can I say? I’m just so wise,” you replied, pulling a face, making Alexia chuckle and lightly shove your shoulder. “Hey, no bullying the weak and feeble!”
“You aren’t f-fuh–?” Alexia tried to copy your pronunciation, and with each attempt, your smile grew. “Amor!”
“What?” 
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Just…” Alexia put her hands on your shoulders. “You’re not weak.”
“I know, mi amor, I know. You aren’t either,” you put one of your hands on top of one of hers, gently caressing her knuckles. “We’re still in it. We’ve been here before, no?” You looked at her knowingly, yet so softly and so full of love.
“Mhm,” she hummed, her smile getting bigger.
“We just need a bit of faith and trust. No matter what happens, win or lose, you’re one of the most amazing people in my life,” you reached out to run your hand through Alexia’s hair, still a bit damp from her post-match shower. “Want me to brush your hair?”
“I want you… to take your medicine,” Alexia said with a smile, and you groaned.
“Is it the tablets?”
Alexia pursed her lips as she stood up, stifling a smile as she held out her hands for you to help yourself up out of bed.
“Amor,” you whined, kicking your feet a little like a child being denied ice cream from a street vendor.
“Come on, my tough and pretty and sexy girl,” Alexia wiggled her fingers. “You can handle a few pills, lovely.”
“I told you that a few months ago, and you banished me to an air mattress on the floor because you didn’t want me catching whatever bug you had,” You held onto her hands, standing up. Alexia’s large hands patted your waist a little before holding you gently. It was an adorable habit of hers. “And then, you proceeded to beg for me to come to bed with you just because you couldn’t stand being apart from me for the night.”
“Come, come,” Alexia had a smile on her face as you went on your little rant, leading you down the stairs to your inevitable fate of having to ingest some pills. You hated the feeling of pills in your throat, even when you took them with water. “Don’t be stubborn.”
“Alexia, don’t be mean to me, I am ill,” you stopped at the bottom step, Alexia looking up at you slightly, tilting her head and smiling at the sight of you pouting.
 You grumbled when she wrapped her arms around your waist and picked you up into her arms, begrudgingly wrapping your legs around her waist to hold onto her as she carried you into the kitchen, “Be careful, you played a rough half of football.”
Alexia glanced at you, brow furrowed. You weren’t supposed to be on your phone or any technology for that matter.
“Mapi called,” you smiled innocently, fingers scratching her scalp, the midfielder closing her eyes at the feeling briefly. “It’s been a while since she used short sentences.” Alexia winced. “Too soon, yep, sorry.”
“The doctor said you need to have three tablets–” Alexia braced herself for the mush of words that were about to come out of your mouth.
“Amor!”
-----
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verstappen-cult · 2 days
Note
hiii idk if youre doing reqs rn but how about lestappen x reader where shes unused to being taken care of, having to succumb to the fact she needs help after an injury (nothing too graphic like maybe a sprained ankle or a broken wrist) and max and charles trying their best to make her understand that they *want* to help and that she has to let them and her yk kinda warming up to the idea idkkk😭 feel free to ignore it i js thought it was sweet✋️😔
You turn on the kitchen lights and Charles and Max are immediately pausing the game and turning around, surprised to see you supporting all your weight in your left leg, while keeping your balance by leaning against the wall.
Max is up in a blink of an eye. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” He helps you walk to one of the stools by the kitchen counter.
“I wanted something to eat.” You say, sitting down and trying not to show how relieved you are. Your ankle is still hurting but you don’t want to worry them.
“You could’ve just told us.” Charles joins you and Max in the kitchen. “What do you want?” He asks you while walking towards the fridge.
You wince, looking down at your hands. “I can prepare something. You’re busy.”
“We were just playing FIFA.” Max leans down to leave a kiss on your cheek. “We weren’t exactly busy.”
“Still,” You argue back, this time looking at your blonde haired boyfriend. “I can do it myself.”
“You’re supposed to be resting, or you’re not gonna get better.”
Charles is right.
And just because of that you accept his offer to make something to eat.
“I’d like some pasta, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Charles frowns as he takes all the ingredientes out of the fridge. “If it’s not too much trouble? Are you hearing yourself?”
Max gives him a disapproving look when he sees you look away.
“You sit here and we’re gonna take care of it, okay?” Max smiles before helping his boyfriend to avoid any incident like it always happens when Charles cooks. Or tries to.
While they’re occupied you think that is a good idea to take a shower to feel fresh and clean before dinner.
But the second you move to get up, Charles is by your side ready to help you.
It makes you feel a lot of things, some good and bad — especially some bad ones. Because the last thing you wanted was to cause trouble and have them running behind you to help with whatever you need, forcing them to cancel events to stay at home with you. Which is exactly what happened.
“What do you want?”
You groan, “I’m gonna take a shower.”
“I’ll run a bath for you.” Charles smiles brightly, forcing you to sit back down. But you don’t let him get away, grabbing his wrist.
“I can do it,” You feel stressed and a burden, and there are tears pricking your eyes. “You don’t need to do everything for me.”
Max stops chopping the vegetables to pay attention to you. “We know that,” He says with a weird expression on his face that you don’t really want to think about right now. “we’re trying to help you. You fell down and are in a lot of pain even if you want us to believe otherwise.”
You blush because you thought you were doing a pretty good job hiding how bad you actually feel.
“When we said that we want to take care of you, it was because we mean it. Nothing is more important than you.” Charles rubs his thumb over your knuckles, while you feel really small and scolded like a little kid.
“I just–,” You hide behind your hands, finally letting the tears fall freely down your face. “I don’t wanna be a burden.”
They stay silent for a few minutes. And then, you feel Max arms on your back while Charles lifts your chin up with his fingers. They look softly at you which only makes you cry harder.
“Oh, princess.” Max wipes the tears with the pad of his fingers. “We love you. Of course we want to take care of you and help with anything you need. You’re never gonna be a burden for us, okay?”
“I know you’d do the same for us.” Charles lets you rest your head against his chest as the both of them hold you in their arms. “Will you let us take care of you?”
You want to say no, but deep down you want to be taken care of. But you’re so used to doing everything by yourself, you never had someone worrying this much for you, never had someone who cared. And now you don’t have one but two people willing to drop everything just to take care of you.
You nod against Charles’ chest, tears still flowing down your face, and whisper, “Okay.” Even if you still want to fight against it and do everything by yourself.
Maybe things need to change a little.
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wombywoo · 2 days
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do you have any ghostsoap favorite fics, perhaps?
boy do I....
I should preface this by saying that I'm pretty...particular with what types of fics I enjoy reading (I only like certain character interpretations/tropes/writing styles, etc) so bear with me...
These are all mostly canon-compliant, non-AUs, ones that I regard highly~
Seasons--by StinglessWasp: This is pretty much my go-to fic rec for anyone into CoD and ghostsoap in general. It showcases everything I love about these characters, in a setting that feels as authentic to the games as possible, while also exploring the depth and sincerity hidden under the surface. So well-written and paced--the dialogue and military references all contribute to that 'feels like a mission out of the game' experience. Plus, I just love this interpretation of our boys--the humor, the inner struggles, the intimacy--Wasp 100% *gets* these characters and it's a joy to read <3
Except You, You Can Stay--by Iravaid: While this one isn't *technically* ghostsoap until the last chapter, in my opinion, it's required reading for anyone who gives a shit about Simon Riley. This is *the* character study--an intimate dissection of Ghost's past that seems so realistic and grounded, you forget how ludicrous those comics really are. Ira takes such care in treating these heavy topics with delicacy and effectiveness. Each chapter has you going 'oh wow, this is even better than the last', but as a whole--it's a stunning, fleshed-out glimpse into Simon as the character he was always meant to be. And the final chapter which eases you into his relationship with Johnny is so authentic and sweet, it just makes perfect sense that they should be together, and that this poor poor man deserves some goddamn love <3
bleeding in the house of god--by revolvermonkcelot: This is a really great 'missing scene' fic, a perfect opportunity to explore the in-between moments that the game so carelessly chooses to gloss over. I can't praise Monk's writing enough--it's slick and crisp and very tasty; the imagery just jumps off the page and you can practically feel the sweat. Plus, the dialogue exchanges between our two boys are so well-timed and in-character--love all the slang and British references~ This whole fic reads like an addition to their mission flirting, and I'm all for it! You can truly tell this author has such deep understanding and experience with this franchise (winkwinkwink, this is a joke) Read it--it's good!
The Dead are all Living--by Kabbal: This fic blew me away when I first read it. It's such a unique take on the retirement trope, I just adore this interpretation of Simon as an aging recluse while he builds his home. I tend to lean towards more subtle, grounded characterizations of Mr Riley, and this really fits the bill. All of these glimpses and fragments into his post-military life contribute to an overarching love story; the scenes with Johnny are so poignant, it's like you're pining alongside them both. I love how not-perfect they are; flawed and difficult and real. There are some moments and lines that just....struck something in me so deeply. I'm sure I'll still be thinking about it for a long long time <3
Portrait of Taction--by a_platypus: Another Simon-centric fic that I absolutely love. The character voice in this is off the charts, I can hear him so vividly in all of his inner dialogue and stunted attempts at conversation. Simon is so endearingly dense in this fic, you're just waiting for him to finally get his act together, but the clumsy, oblivious steps he takes in his relationship with Soap are truly a treat to read. I love this version of Johnny too--confident and considerate, but still hopelessly crushing on his superior. It's comedic, well-written, and the paragraphs describing Soap's journal give some of the best insights into his character I've seen <3
come on, haunt me--by flyby2: This was a really good long fic that I took my time savoring. What could have been a typical 'on leave' fic instead took time to develop a unique spin on the backstories as well as throwing our boys into some wholesome encounters. Both Soap and Ghost felt very true to character, and I appreciate the exploration of PTSD and the subsequent struggles that come along with...all that. There was a really nice balance in having their romance spread across the chapters, and I can promise a very sweet, happy conclusion <3
in the mess of it all--by flowersferns: A lovely one-shot that exhibits some of my favorite aspects of these two characters. I'm a sucker for 'one of them is hurt, the other is freaking out, they are both idiots in love, etc'. There are some really great dialogue and character moments in this, plus the overall prose hits hard. Love this take on their romance--the mutual trust, the familiarity of their bond. And just the general theme of impermanence--the inevitability of what this relationship means for them--two soldiers, willing and ready to sacrifice their lives at a moment's notice, still clinging to each other because...god...that's all they have---big fan of this :'D <3
Lapsus--by Lisbetadair: Another really great one-shot and 'missing scene' fic. The authenticity in the writing is spot-on--it's like you can feel Soap's pain right off the bat. I love how smoothly the banter flows between the two, and the attention to detail and references all help lend to that 'hardened military man' exterior. Ghost smelling like flowers because of a face wipe is such a delightful addition, plus the scene where Soap is, ah, donald-ducking it in just a t-shirt with his jewels out is such a funny mental image, I still think of it fondly from time to time. It's funny, it's surprisingly cute, it's very in-character. Stick around for some awkward but adorable cuddles <3
I'm sure I have more to recommend, but these are the ones I can personally endorse for now~
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eloise-t-g · 2 days
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i think for me, the watcher situation comes down to this:
it's absolutely respectable that the watcher team wants to grow and produce better quality content. it's respectable that they don't want to stagnate and end up pushing the same content out over and over again. that's not satisfying for them creatively, i get that.
however, if higher quality, more heavily produced content is not what your fans are asking for, then you can't ask them to fund it.
this all-or-nothing method they've gone for is frankly bizarre. it feels like they leap-frogged all other alternatives to improving their finances and ended up here, alienating and frustrating the majority of their fanbase (the fanbase they thanked for getting them to where they are).
i think this could have gone a lot better if they:
Hadn't hyped up this video for a week.
Hadn't announced the worth it successor just beforehand.
Hadn't put out a wishy-washy, "boo hoo we're so sad about this", over-produced video.
Hadn't made it $6/month (more in a lot of countries given exchange rates).
Had considered that this means fans in specific countries literally cannot pay for the subscription due to geo/region-locking.
my ideas for improving their funds, aka things they could have tried before blowing their brand up: create their own website with two options - a free version with ads and a paid version without ads, OR make better use of their patreon/make their website extra content, not all their content, for example:
Put the ghost file debriefs on there.
Put shows like survival mode on there (or even shift that show from pre-recorded video to live-stream - live stream access to patrons and VOD access to everyone, maybe).
Put episode commentaries there.
Do reaction videos to their old buzzfeed content, talk about memories and BTS, and put that there.
Put one/two episodes of each show, per season on there (and ONLY there).
Put the episodes up there a few days early.
Make specific, website only content (that's not your main and most popular series aka ghost files and puppet history).
Record the live, in-person shows and put those VODs up there.
EDIT (thought of something else lmao): put extended or even uncut versions of ghost files on there. Paranormal Detour on Detune's twitch channel has shown that people will willingly sit through 6+ hours of a ghost investigation.
EDIT: idk, do livestreams once a week where you watch scary movies with fans on discord or twitch.
(side note: the fact that they're not taking down their patreon and instead shifting all of their podcast content on there, something the patreons who have been loyally giving them money for years didn't ask for, is ridiculous and greedy. add to this the fact that they don't even get a free sub to the new website, instead get 40% off - a measly 10% more than anyone else who subs before the official launch).
the thing for me is that they're claiming they want to make "television" and "television-grade content". that's completely fine. what's not completely fine is acting like your four episodes a month is equal to netflix's entire catalogue.
this really felt like it should have been something they told us they were progressing towards, not something they revealed to be on the imminent horizon. idk, it just feels out of nowhere. no, they don't owe us all of the info about their company. but something had to be better than this.
final thought - it's okay and valid to be upset at the team for this. for a lot of people, it's a complete betrayal (especially the comment that $6 a month is something "anyone and everyone can afford", i mean yikes). i do think some people's anger got the best of them, and some of the comments i've seen across youtube, twitter, and tumblr are plain bullying, racism, and harassment. until we have the whole story, we can't decide that one founder (aka steven in a lot of people's minds) is solely responsible. i know a lot of these awful things are only coming from a small minority of the fandom, but they still get seen.
at the end of the day, all three of them got up in front of a camera and made this video, together. that can only lead us to the conclusion that they made this decision together. acting like these men in their 30s couldn't stand up against it if they truly wanted to, is so strange and parasocial lmao.
tl;dr there were much better ways of going about this announcement, if it even needed to be made at all. however, that doesn't excuse the hateful shit being spewed at the team. for now, all we know is the three founders decided they were done with youtube, and done with their loyal youtube audience.
(i have so many more thoughts on this but i need to stop lmao. however i do wonder how different things could have been if 1. they had hired someone with actual business experience as their CEO from the jump, and 2. this video was more of a "hey we're broke! this is a last-ditch effort to save our company!". guess those questions will remain ... well ... you know ...).
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writersdrug · 2 days
Text
Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 3
<- Previous
Warnings: mild cursing, boredom, thas really it
A/N: Holy shit I cannot believe how much love this is getting, and it's so much fun to write!! I've decided to makes this a fully fledged fic instead of just a drabble, and I'll be posting it on ao3 too! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Also sorry if formatting changes, I'm trying to have some sort of order among my writing.
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Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.
You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.
You decided to phone a friend.
"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.
"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."
"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."
You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."
"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"
"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."
"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"
You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."
"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."
You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"
"You know it! Nina's coming too."
You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."
"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."
"She'd better be. Love you!"
The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...
Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.
"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.
She sighed and looked away.
Maybe it was time for a walk.
"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.
"Fancy a walk?" You asked.
She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."
On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.
"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.
You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"
She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.
Oh, right. Military dog.
"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.
For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?
You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.
Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.
"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"
She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.
"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"
She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"
------------
Simon sat stoicly on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.
Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?
He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.
"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.
"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.
"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"
Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."
"Who'd ye get?"
"What's it to you?"
"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"
"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.
He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.
But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?
Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.
...
Fuck.
He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...
He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.
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prettyg1irlstears · 2 days
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Can we pleaseee get more Rafe x shy!pillow princess reader🙏🙏🙏
absolutely yes!! i didn’t make her as shy because she was horny :((
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“ray..” you mewl, leaning on your boyfriend’s chest as he’s laying on the bed, pouting like a baby. “please?”
“come on, baby, i’m js’ tryna watch a movie,” he chuckles, patting your head with an amused smile.
“but i’m horny,” you whisper, frowning and placing a sweet little kiss on his neck. you’re so worked up, all just by him massaging your thigh earlier. “please..”
“i’ll let you get yourself off on my cock, yeah?” he suggests, already undoing his belt.
“wait- no..” you pout even more, crossing your arms. “you know i can’t be on top.”
rafe only chuckles, stroking your hair. “well then you’ll be just wet and needy, i guess.”
“ray, please..” you whine, placinf small kisses all over his neck. “pretty please.”
he lets out a small groan, tilting his head to give you better access of his neck. he always loved it when you begged. “shit, baby..”
“js’ so horny f’you, ray..” you whisper, tugging on his shirt. you kiss that one spot right behind his ear that you knew got him all worked up.
“fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” rafe breathes out and flips you over, now on top of you, mouth on yours.
“mm..” you whimper into the kiss, your hands undoing his belt. he moves his kisses to your neck, which only makes the wet spot in your panties bigger.
“so fucking needy for daddy’s cock..” rafe mumbles, taking off his jeans and boxers and moving your skirt up. “always so fucking needy.”
“daddy..” you mewl when he pushes your oanties aside, none of you bothered to take your other clothes off. “js’ need you..”
“yeah need me but can’t fucking ride me,” rafe mutters as he lines up with you. “gotta do all the work.”
you gasp and whimper when he finally pushes inside you, stretching your princess parts just enough to make you roll your eyes back. “daddy..”
“goddamn it, baby..” he groans, biting your neck as he stays still for a moment, just letting you cockwarm his monster cock with that tight little pussy of yours.
“mm.. sorry daddy..” you whisper and hide your face. rafe looks down at you, all confused.
“for what?” he asks, stroking your hair as he slowly starts moving. you bute your lip shyly, hands on your face.
“b-because— ah— because i can’t— ah— can’t ride you—“ you say quietly, interrupting yourself with sweet tiny moans.
rafe groans, your tiny moans making his cock twitch inside you. “oh baby.. look at me, yeah?” he takes your chin and gently tilts it up towards him, while still slowly thrusting into you.
“i’m the one who’s sorry, yeah?” he kisses you lips, slightly increasing the pace. he gently moves your hands away from your face and pinning then up above your head. “sorry f’ what i said. that was stupid, yeah?”
you nod shyly, cheeks red as he starts pounding into you, your legs wrapping around his waist as you let out the prettiest moans he has ever heard.
“fuck— can’t get enough of that sweet sounds of yours,” he whispers into your ear, kissing you beneath it.
“d-daddy.. gonna cum..” you mewl, hiding your face into his neck. his pounding gets even harder, your moans combining with his grunts and the sound of skin slapping against skin. “don’t stop..”
“nah,” he says, releasing your hands and moving your head back towards him by your chin. “want you to look at me. wanna see you all fucked out while you cum.”
“y-yes.. ray!!” you moan out, pussy clenching around his thick cock as you cum, his eyes piercing into yours.
“fucking hell, baby..” he groans, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you before his hot load spills inside you.
“my fucking girl..” he whispers, kissing your neck while you’re whimpering and taking his load. “you fucking perfect.”
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idk if i like this or not :(( divider creds here
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