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moondirti · 18 days

Text

back on my bullshit soapgaz x gn! reader

Kyle has his tongue halfway down Johnny's throat when the petulant knocking previously on the other side of the wall migrates to his front door.

It's not like he didn't hear it before. Just that he didn't care. And really, if it were up to him, he'd continue rutting their leaky cocks together until he were gratified enough to deal with whatever bullshit problem the neighbour's have this time. Being pent up off the end of a bad mission does that to you, you see. Wears you down until you're all instinct, aggression, sybaritic once you taste death on the barrel of an M-16. He doesn't have any propriety left in him. No patience.

But that's exactly what does it. The banging gets too loud to ignore, and Soap, bless his heart, isn't exactly quiet either. His moans meet the cacophony of knuckles rapping on wood. In the clamour, Kyle's remaining sanity wears infinitesimally thin. His nerves spark like frayed electrical wires. His balls ache with a climbing release that only grows steeper. And he's running on frustration that's been impossible to burn off. (It was his fault the op went to shit, no matter how his team insists otherwise.)

His fault. His fault.

God, can they fucking shut up already?

He rips away. A thread of spit still tethers him to Soap, swollen lip to lip. The man in question is flushed, blue eyes more watery than usual. Dazed, briefs shucked halfway down his lap, his shirt creased in all the commotion, exposing the hair-dusted planes of his muscled abdomen. Kyle can tell he isn't as bothered by the disruption. For all his acumen, Soap's always been the first to loosen up. All it takes is a hand down his pants by someone he trusts not to stab him.

He looks up at him now, blinking stupidly, saying nothing when Kyle gets up and steps into the closest pair of sweats. Wider pant leg, shorter inseam. Johnny's. The lining is soft enough not to chafe his balls as he scrambles for the speaker remote, and he thinks he starts to understand the appeal in going commando.

The knocking persists until he pauses the music.

When he swings the door open, he expects to find Agnes, or Gerald, or one of the other ten geriatric tossers living on his floor. They all like him well enough. Sending them away would be as easy as promising a day's worth of labour, dusting the shelves they can't reach, or some other menial task he can drag Soap along to do with him.

What he doesn't expect is you.

You. Pointedly not old, endearingly unkempt, and enraged enough he's surprised there isn't steam whistling from your ears.

If he's in any way moved by the novelty, he doesn't have the energy to show it. In many ways, he feels like an expanded version of the vein throbbing at your temple. Whatever complaint you have, he's sure he can match it with a hundred more, each distinctly worse.

"What?"

"Have you no fucking courtesy?" You snarl, twisting a sore fist in the scratchy fabric of your scrubs. Your knuckles look raw, scratched up. He half wants to kiss 'em better, half wants to huff a serves you right. "You're not the only person in the world! You share walls with three other people, and I'm sure you know how thin they are! That music is way too loud to even defend! You'll go deaf by 50, you bloody lemon! And that's not counting what you're doing to the poor sods who have to share a space with you, since you've clearly demonstrated a lack of care in that regard! Honestly, I should just call the cops to deal with this. Or the landlord, see how you like blasting your shitty playlist on the streets!"

The words don't mean much to him. Perhaps they would, if he properly digested them. But you're way too cute when you're mad for him to take you seriously. Your lips purse in a way that screams put my mouth to better use, and his fingers itch with the urge to pinch your nose shut, shut off your airflow, as your nostrils flare with heat. In the end, the only response he can muster is a lame:

"I've never seen you around before."

"I don't live here!"

"Then..." He trails off, looking back at Johnny on the couch, then the speakers, then you.

"I'm Maureen's caretaker. You know, your next door neighbour? Her Alzheimer's makes her sensitive to the racket, and she hasn't been able to calm down all day! Because of you! I've about had it up to here–" You raise a hand above your head, waving it wildly to emphasise your point. He has to bite his cheeks to stop himself from smiling.

"That's unfortunate." He says, and tries really hard to mean it. It seems you have a keen ear for apathy, though, because you cross your arms and tense your jaw and harden your glare until he's sighing, all dramatically, "Fine. Music down. Got it."

He means it, too. Despite all the awful things he's done — twisting a knife into the throat of a soldier pleading for their mum and using their corpse as a shield through the ensuing crossfire, most recently — he isn't heartless. He knows he isn't the only person in the world. The casualties that fell on his hands in the past month alone will haunt him to a point where he remembers that fact like it's a second skin.

But you turn your nose up, up, all self-satisfied, downright pompous if you ask him, and that brief flame of empathy flickers out like a candle held under rain. It's made worse when you walk away without so much as a thank you, and you really do need to be taught a lesson, don't you?

He never liked Maureen, anyway.

Malicious compliance is an ugly game, but to his credit, he doesn't turn the music back on.

Soap hasn't moved an inch, though his briefs lay over the arm of the couch now. One scarred, rough palm cups the mass between his spread legs, kneading his balls carelessly as he waits for him. Pillow princess. Kyle wonders if he's this laid back with Ghost, or if their brutish lieutenant makes him work for a fuck.

"They're bonnie." He hums, hugging his knees up and apart when Kyle slides a finger between his cheeks.

"And you're loose."

"Aye. Ye didnae think Ah’d turn up without gettin’ maself ready for ye, did ye?" Soap smiles crookedly, cocking his head to the side in that way he does. It narrows the gap between human and dog to an uncanny degree, and he's struck with the realisation that yeah, Ghost probably gives him whatever he wants with enough whimpering.

"Slut." Kyle says, without malice.

"Yet ye're pumpin' me."

He's got him there.

His hole is slippery, hot around his finger. He could probably get away with fucking him like this, no extra prep needed, and the Scot would enjoy whatever burn comes as consequence. But he uncaps the lube anyway, squirting it between the iron-firm canyons of Soap's ass and a little over the head of his own cock before lining them up.

And as he pushes in, he swoops low to whisper in his ear.

"Be loud."

Johnny loves a good challenge.

It's part of the reason they get along so well. Kyle seeks stimulating experiences like Icarus to the sun, and no one rises to the occasion better than his twin sergeant. He'll be the first to place bets over a deck of cards, or contribute to trivia nights at their frequented bar, or hop on the game with him when neither can sleep. He's even down to test all those sick fantasies that frighten birds off. Including, it seems, exhibitionism.

And Lord is he good at it.

Kyle is almost embarrassed, despite being the one to start it. Soap, on the other hand, has left shame with his shoes at the door. The air hangs heavy with sex and noise, the lewd slaps of skin on skin, his balls swinging to hit the cleft of his ass, just as his cock hits the same spot within him. Over and over.

The Scot moans with abandon, head thrown and back arched. He really doesn't need to slam his fist into the wall repeatedly, the mangled sounds tearing from his throat (an arbitrary pattern of Gaz, fuck, ye're huge, jist there, dinnae stop) more than enough, but it's a nice touch. By now, it's practice that assures him he's hitting the right spot (the dramatics are appreciated, not reliable). He knows just how to angle himself, where exactly Soap likes it, to make this worth both their time.

Though, with the way his cock is twitching untouched, he looks to be getting off on this too.

His mind is split between the delicious sight underneath him and an imagined picture of you. Are you more furious or turned on? Is your charge giving you a tough time for their transgressions? Did you sneak off to the bathroom to relieve your frustration in a productive way? Fuck. He wonders what you look like when you cum, drawing a picture with the very limited references he's been given.

Your brows scrunched, lips twisted, eyes screwed up. Still in your uniform, undershirt rolled up to your elbows as you slip a hand down the waistband of your pants. Unable to let yourself go completely. Shamefully indulgent. Fingers tensed over the lip of the sink, goading yourself along, pulling out and washing up the second you cum. Refusing to ride out the waves of your orgasm, but going home with a sticky mess between your legs.

Equal parts furious and turned on, he decides.

Soap grabs his hand to force it around his dick.

"You gonna cum so soon?" He asks — more shouts, really — even though it's a stupid question. Whatever helps you paint the scene...

"Uhuh! Uhuh!" Soap catches on, huffs trailing into whines as Kyle tightens the grip over his tip.

They're both one corny porn line away from bursting into laughter (which, the more he thinks about, the more he's sure Johnny is parroting the last film they watched together). He has to bite his tongue to keep the amusement from making itself known, jacking the length in his hands to the same tempo of his thrusts.

"Then cum, you needy whore. Make a fuckin' mess of yourself."

And it's terrifying how well they execute it. As though previously rehearsed, Johnny shoots ropes all over his chest, ending his act with a loud, punchy "fuck!"

Kyle follows not too long after, pulling out to coat the back of his thighs. Cum gets everywhere. That's fine. His couch is overdue for a wash, anyway.

"Good work," He chuckles. Quiet this time, the praise genuine.

Soap grins. "Steamin Jesus, ye'r th' best shag A've ever had!"

"Alright, enough." He taps his cheek in a mock slap, smearing their combined fluids all over the stubble he'd begun to grow. The man is undeterred, sticking a tongue out to polish his palm. "That's overkill."

"That's gonnae git ye leid. Jus' watch."

"Us laid." Kyle corrects, because who would he be if he didn't grant his best mate a portion of the prize?

In the afterglow, he forgets all about his anger.

It's late when you come by again.

Well. Not late for anyone with a healthy circadian rhythm, but he's been living at his Nan's old place long enough to know that light's out is 1800 hours. Maureen is definitely asleep by now. And even then, the timing is odd. They've both bathed, stripped the couch of its cushions, ordered takeout, played a round of Mario Kart, finished the last of their reports, and emptied an old vape cartridge (after running out of cigs).

It's been hours since the last time they made any significant amount of noise. Your appearance is unfounded.

The knocking is subdued this time. One, two. Pause. The shadow beneath the door retreating, then waddling back again. He watches it occur over a minute or two, fond of making you wait, before rising from his place on the floor.

The door swings. Hinges squeak. You look worse for wear.

Kyle pouts, mustering every condescending bone in his body to suppress the true pang of sympathy he feels. "Awe. What is it this time, baby? Turned down the music, didn't I? And we've been so good all night."

"Y-You're... A foul, despicable human being. You know– i-it didn't mean– I didn't need to–" Your eyes squeeze shut, but that doesn't stop a hot tear from leaking down your cheek. "If you get off to making people miserable, then congratu-fucking-lations, you're one of 7 billion."

He listens. Takes you in, properly this time.

Blotchy face. Stained scrubs. Plain hands. Messy hair. Heavy backpack. Beat up sneakers. And a darling little face that really shouldn't be so affected.

Unless it's in pleasure, his brain supplies.

"Rough day at work, huh?" He pushes his shoulder off the doorframe, opening his stance up to something more sincere. Maybe it feels wrong to rub it in your face any further. Maybe it's because he recognises the signs a little all too well.

And it must be bad too, seeing as you don't resist. Nodding weakly, you keep your eyes shut and take deep breaths. He's worked his frustrations out already, patience back in stock, so he waits as you wrangle back the waterworks.

"No thanks to you." You whisper hoarsely, crossing your arms and looking down at his shoes.

"I'm sorry." He says, and actually means it this time. Johnny comes up behind him, body heat a flame to the fuel coursing within him. It's all the confidence he needs to ask: "Allow us to make it up to you."

And the way you look up — a little too quick, hopeful, pretty — he knows you know what he means.

You really were there, then. Listening.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Kyle smiles, sharp-toothed, careful not to appear too eager. "I know just the thing to help."

#unedited #sorry if your name is agnes or gerald or maureen lol #kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish #kyle garrick x reader x johnny mactavish #gaz x reader x soap #gaz x soap #kyle garrick x johnny mactavish #kyle 'gaz' garrick x johnny 'soap' mactavish #soapgaz x reader #kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader

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exactlymaximumgarden · 3 months

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schlatt with a celebrity s/o. maybe you're famous from acting, from music, streaming, modeling, literally whatever. either way, you're famous in your own right.

so imagine schlatt is doing a simple gaming stream, specifically another drunk truck simulator. he has media share turned on to entertain himself while on the road, and his viewers are submitting the usual stuff they know will make him laugh. however, one submission throws him for a loop.

it's a thirst edit of you.

schlatt has to stop a second and watch, ogling at the screen as the edit plays. "god damn," he softly mutters under his breath. meanwhile, his truck slowly starts drifting to the wrong side of the road, half of chat laughing at his reaction and the other half screaming at him to pay attention to the drive.

"who sent that in? who sent that? that is- ope." schlatt quickly veers back into the correct lane. "that is not funny. do not send me edits of my girlfriend while i am on the road, okay?" he can't help himself as he starts dissolving into laughter. however, his cheeks have very visibly heated up. "i am not a distracted driver, chat! i will not become one of those... those drunk crashers they warn you about."

this, of course, only enables chat further. more and more edits of you are flooded into the media share queue, and every single time, schlatt can't take his eyes off you. he tries to play it off by laughing, yelling "STOP!" at chat, but he secretly loves it. any opportunity to admire you is a welcome one. however, finally, he pauses his game and playfully scolds the viewers.

"guys, guys. look, i love looking at (y/n) as much as you do. i do. but i really need you guys to curtail it for tonight, alright? i'm gonna flip the fuckin' truck again if i keep takin' my eyes off the game."

he squints at chat as the responses come flooding in.

"someone said, 'you know you like it, sclit.' i know i do! you got me, man, i do! my girl might kill me if i set a bad example on the road, though. y'know how it is."

#also nobody asked but look at his arms in this pic #i'm going feral #jschlatt #schlatt #chuckle sandwich #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt imagine #chuckle sandwich x reader #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff #schlatt imagine #schlatt x you #jschlatt headcanons

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artoodeetootired · 5 months

Text

dress

📖 she’s been his best friend since they were pre-teens; he was a rebellious, unrelenting, and aspiring racer, while she was a witty, energetic, and hopeful journalist. but after all these years, she can’t help but question whether they could be more- despite the challenges that come with her feelings.

💭 op!81 x fem!journalist, best friends to lovers (smau)

🎧 dress - taylor swift

🃏masterlist🃏

🥀 “say my name n everythin just stops. i don’t want u like a best friend. only bought this dress so u could take it off…” 🥀

ty for the love on my first smau ! here’s the next per the last poll’s fav choice :) warning: lots & lots of typos/underlying delulu cringe

Twitter

Instagram

ynuser posted a story 6s

Liked by landonorris, logansargeant, fbsfuser, and others

Replies

landonorris: solidarity queen ✊🏼

-> ynuser ✊🏼

oscarpiastri: u are actually insane

-> wow this is so nice of you.

-> such a great best friend .

-> an even better journalist.

-> ynuser anything to humble u while i am in this industry 🫶🏻

user: you are UNHINGED

logansargeant: careful yn, your favouritism is showing

-> ynuser: it's part of my contract. im the comedic relief of f1 journalism

-> logansargeant: but doesn't will buxton naturally do that

-> ynuser: now THIS convo could get me fired. shoo logan.

-> logansargeant LOLL

mclaren: just 'cause we love you, we'll let this slide

-> ynuser: 🫶🏻😸

fbsfuser: send my fuck you's to them both :D

-> ynuser: already on it 🫡

iMessages

Instagram

oscarpiastri

Tagged: landonorris, mclaren, ynuser

oscarpiastri great start to the season @mclaren 💪🏼

the same can't be said about a particular someone tho... betting someone should get fired.

📸: @ynuser

Liked by mclaren, landonorris, ynuser, and 609,993 others

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landonorris i dont support bullying, but exceptions can be made if it's towards you

ynuser if karma doesn't get u first then either stroll or i will

-> user oh my GOD 💀

-> user shots fired LMAOOOO

-> oscarpiastri i'd rather karma than u and...

mclaren and we thought lando was our only pr liability

-> landonorris wait WHAT

-> oscarpiastri that's a bit too insulting towards me

-> ynuser this doesnt include me.... right?

fbsfuser boy if you don't take this down...

logansargeant oscar is this meant to be retribution for her story earlier?

-> oscarpiastri so what?

-> landonorris that's kinda overdramatic compared to what she posted wow

ynuser i would also like to say that this stanky man tried to go out for dinner right after his race 🤢

-> georgerussell scandalous 😨

-> carlossainz55 not very smooth of you oscar

-> alexalbon not smooth.

-> danielricciardo not smooth.

-> charlesleclerc not smooth.

-> maxverstappen1 not smooth.

-> fbsfuser i think, and hear me out, maybe you're in the wrong here oscar

-> ynuser and this is why we were both wearing masks on track

-> oscarpiastri too far. you've gone TOO far.

Instagram: 10/03-21/03

ynuser posted a story 10s

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, landonorris, georgerussell, and others

Replies

yukitsunoday0511: i will get you back one day.

-> ynuser: ngaww 😹

oscarpiastri: u are tho

-> ynuser: ik

->oscarpiastri: wait. are you?

danielricciardo: mind giving me an extra mic so i can do this when youre not with us?

-> ynuser check ur driver's room ;)

landonorris: how did he know 😨

-> ynuser: we been knew lan

oscarpiastri posted a story 7s

Liked by landonorris, logansargeant, fbsfuser, and others

Replies

ynuser: there's no way you pulled out a photo from when we were 13.

-> oscarpiastri: full on war. what are you gonna do about it?

-> ynuser: watch me

landonorris: u have to give this pic to me.

-> oscarpiastri: LMAO ty for joining my side

-> landonorris: no no, don't be mistaken. im against both of you.

-> oscarpiastri: mate what?

carlossainz55: u guys should just kiss already

-> oscarpiastri: carlos NO

mclaren: you're really trying to blackmail a journalist who has resources at her disposal? 😮

-> oscarpiastri: ...yes...

ynuser posted a story 3s

Liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly, alexalbon, and others

Replies

alexalbon: congrats on winning soldier

-> ynuser ✊🏼

oscarpiastri: HOW DO U HAVE THESE PHOTOS ALREADY

-> ynuser: i like how u still underestimate my job then suffer because of it :)

pierregasly: these go hard 🔥

landonorris: well at least it's not as embarrassing for me. but a HEADS UP WOULDVE BEEN NICE

-> ynuser: bro dont even try ik you've been saving bad pics of me from oscar -.-

mclaren: we hope u enjoyed the pics!

-> ynuser: i owe u guys one fr 🙏🏼

Round 3 (22/03-24/03): Australia

ynuser

Tagged: f1

ynuser round 3 in australia!!!! 🇦🇺🦘❤️ amazing to be back on home base, and even better to see danny ric and pastry fight it out for the podium! (actual, professional, and correct news coming from me on @f1 tv 🫡)

ossie ossie ossie! oi oi oi! get it? 'cause ossie is like aussie and... okay. i'll stop.

Liked by mclaren, fbsfuser, danielricciardo, and 611,805 others

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mclaren ty for providing us with baby pastry pics 🫡

-> ynuser pleasure doing business with u 🫡🫡

-> oscarpiastri excuse ME

oscarpiastri haha. so funny. at least u have stand up comedy since journalism may not work out :)

-> ynuser so you admit im funny 😸

-> oscarpiastri don't flatter urself.

-> landonorris nah mate, that sounded like defeat

f1 this commentary is fine 👍🏻

-> user LMAOOOO

user danny ric placing in his home base is such a dream come true 😭

-> user yeah im glad it isnt just a dream anymore

user cutiessssss

-> user them driving around the circuit in a golf cart must've been chaotic

-> logansargeant u have no idea...

user she's hilarious ilysm

-> fbsfuser back off fam she's mine ✋🏼

-> user i need to know how she got this job cause it is THE dream fr

-> fbsfuser yeah it really is a wonder given how many lectures she slept thru...

-> ynuser OI

danielricciardo 🫶🏻

-> user CONGRATS HONEY BADGER!!!

user can oscar fight???

-> user girl what are u talking about they aint tgt

-> user they aren't???

-> user no bruh theyre just besties

user watch me at the next race rizzin her up

Twitter

iMessages

Instagram Messages

landonorris: yn

-> yn

ynuser: bruh WHAT

landonorris: it's important

ynuser: lando i don't have time to answer whether a new pair of pants make u look flat

-> go ask osc

landonorris: ok first of all: a good pair makes a huge difference.

-> and second, it's about osc

ynuser: did smth happen to him?????

landonorris: no, sorry

-> shouldn't have led with that

-> i sent u a post on twitter

-> but just, read carefully k?

Twitter

Instagram Messages

ynuser: oh

landonorris: u see it?

ynuser: yeah

landonorris: are u okay?

ynuser: yeah im just surprised

landonorris: so you didn't know about it either?

ynuser: obviously not

landnorris: im sorry yn :(

ynuser: why? it's not like he owes me anything lol

-> im happy he started dating again in fact

-> was getting worried lol

landonorris: u sure u good?

-> doesn't really sound like u are

ynuser: im fine

-> plus i need to stay professional. i still have a job and there are crazy fans and all

-> thanks anyways lan

landonorris: alright, im here to talk if u need

-> so is the rest of the grid tbh

❤️ Liked by ynuser

iMessage

Instagram: 03/04

ynuser

Tagged: urmumuser

ynuser a little break back home with the parents doesn't hurt 🌊

@f1's the best for letting me regenerate lost brain cells <3

Liked by f1, fbsfuser, racerbia, and 702,009 others

View all 53,197 comments

f1 we got ur back queen ✊🏼

-> user in the middle of all the drama, this could mean so many things...

-> user well im gonna take it as them sayin that theyre on the right ship :)

user ngl guys the distance rn is probably 'cause yn and osc so close, especially with osc dating brianna, like she probably did it out of respect for them. no one wants to be 'the girl he told me not to worry about' yk.

-> user allegedly dating*

user omg the parallelism to brianna with the surfboards 😭

-> user we've truly reached peak delulu i love it

landonorris enjoy ur break from a grid of shitheads 💪🏼

-> carlossainz55 speak for urself

wbuxtonofficial how am i going to handle them without you 0.0

-> ynuser well, not to state the obvious, but drivers are just... humans.

-> georgerussell hilarious

racerbia gorgeous girl 🧡

fbsfuser take me with u 😔

Round 4 (05/04-07/04): Japan

mclaren

Tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, vindiesel, and mrodofficial

mclaren A little surprise for our papaya boys as they come back from their Friday practices! 🤫 Here's to hoping we go fast and furious in the land of sakura 🌸

Liked by f1, ynuser, racerbia, and 851,092 others

View all 60,004 comments

user the lack of yn's interactions with the whole grid is actually making me glitch throughout this weekend. and it's only friday 💀💀

user omggggg van diesel and michelle rod!!!!!!

user they really be spoiling osc lolll

user it's so weird to see an interview without yn

iMessages

Instagram

mclaren

Tagged: oscarpiastri

mclaren H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y @oscarpiastri!

Our baby driver is 23 today, here in Japan! Drive well, birthday boy! 😎🌸

Liked by f1, fbsfuser, racerbia, and 905,874 others

View all 35,621 comments

user happy birthday ossie!!!

landonorris: our baby is growing up so fast

-> f1 we must shrink him.

user wow she must be pissed if she took her first annual leave during this totally coincidental time

-> user fr sis is fooling no one.

-> user this feels like such a bad omen omg 😭

-> user guys maybe our bestie yn just really needed a break... haha...

briannawood_ happy birthday osc ❤️

-> user oh my god

-> user she actually exists

-> user girl what are you doing here

-> user ayo???

alexalbon happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!

lilyhme HAPPY BIRTHDAY OSC

fbsfuer hbd

-> user oh-

ynuser

Tagged: oscarpiastri

ynuser to the one who vexes me, encourages me, n supports me sm, happy 23rd birthday. i've known you since your rebellious days, trying to prove to the rest of the world how your dream was worth fulfilling, and i'm grateful to have been with you to this very stage of your life. from re-watching cars and fast n furious for over a decade, to re-watching ur races and my interviews, know that i'll always be there, on or off track, no matter what. to the bane of my existence, from ur twin devil x

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user oh im gonna be sick is she the one who told f1 to invite vin diesel and michelle rod 😭💔

-> user u are spitting facts but in this case facts should not be facting because this is actually making me hyperventilate by all the drama rn

user no im sorry but why does this sound more like a goodbye than a hbd note

user yn trying to prove that she's actually a great write when she wants to be

-> user and SHE IS 😭😭😭

user the way she doesn't sound like herself AT ALL wtf is going on

user this sounds like a very strange way of resigning 💀

-> user YOU TAKE BACK WHAT U SAID RN

Comments on this post have been limited.

Twitter

Round 5 (19/04-21/04): China

ynuser

Tagged: f1

ynuser im back 😈 lovely weather here in china as we start round 5's quali day!! let's get back to it 💪🏼

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f1 she's back!

user oh my god i thought we were never gonna see her ever again

lewishamilton missed our fav presenter

-> georgerussell frfr!!

-> mclaren actually ☝🏼 she was and will always be OUR fav

fsfbuser welcome back gorgeous <3

user well... the good news is that she sounds normal again

-> user nah bruh im right here in the paddock and she looks nervous/twitchy af

user the besties obvie haven't made up yet 😪

-> user or maybe they never will...

oscarpiastri come on back over to our pit, you left before i finished changing ?

-> user oH WTF

-> user this shit is actually going to be the death of me

-> landonorris i thought we agreed that i'd call her? 🤨

-> charlesleclerc hush for a little while she's over at ours rn

-> user this is too funny

-> user is this a pr trick or some shit 'cause IT'S NOT FUNNY ANYMORE

Twitter

Instagram

oscarpiastri

Tagged: ynuser

oscarpiastri you are never escaping me ever again.

(forgive my impulsive actions tonight everyone, i swear im only ever like this around her)

Liked by landonorris, fbsfuser, ynuser, and 1,397,819 others

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francisca.cgomes SHUT THE FRONT DOOR. FINALLY.

-> lilymhe I KNOW RIGHT

-> pierregasly oscar can be so oblivious sometimes...

-> fbsfuser boy he was blind, deaf, and dumb for as long as i've known them. like pick a struggle??

-> landonorris i second this

logansargeant kinda giving serial killer vibes but u two are cute enough to forgive that

-> ynuser 🤪

-> maxverstappen1 i can finally go back to the garage in peace without u following me to talk my ear off

-> oscarpiastri u knew this whole time??

user i am going insane.

-> user maybe i hit the blunt too good this time...

-> user @landonorris and @fbsfuser u guys are the gods of all wingmen.

user oh thank god he wasn't actually dating brianna

-> user our queen and king can come back stronger and better now 😩

user your honour, nvm, my parents just got back tgt :D

ynuser 10 years, both of us having a nasty high school relationship each, and a rumour bomb that exploded from underneath me... i think i have every right to try and escape again.

-> oscarpiastri this was not funny when u first said it, and it will never be.

-> logansargeant ok but it kind of is

user my fav writer inspo is now my fav driver's wag MY HEART

landonorris thank god i dont need to listen to the both of you whining anymore

-> ynuser who said we're stopping 🤨

-> oscarpiastri you can't escape me either lando.

-> landonorris this is foul @mclaren i suggest you give me a raise for keeping ur other driver in check

-> f1 haha no.

mclaren thank god we don't have to whisper every time we see something suspicious now

-> redbullracing im ngl, same.

-> astonmartinf1 we once had to watch while they bantered with each other for 10 minutes 🧍🏻‍♀️

-> scuderiaferrari not that it's a competition, but they were always close to pecking each other whenever they were here

-> alexalbon wait why were they even in any of these garages??

-> mclaren ask oscar why he keeps following her...

user that interview was INSANE

-> user i don't think i've ever seen such a surreal confession oml

Twitter

a/n: lowkey cringey hehe. this was supposed to involve a wedding (for a mclaren engineer not oscyn loll) where they'd all be dressed up (you know... DRESS) but i reached the pics limit 💀 honestly i would've written this out as a one shot or smth but once i start i will never stop... and i have my ibdp math final 😭

#f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris #mclaren #smau

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 5 months

Text

991 i hav emerjenci

Wow, what an absolute dumpster fire, right? *gestures broadly* ↓Below the cut↓ are some specific things as a reader/mutual/friend/etc you can do that will make things a little better.

You come across someone posting/using someone else's work without express permission to do so:

INFORM THE ORIGINAL CREATOR/POSTER (OP) DIRECTLY ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ Let OP know BEFORE you attempt to engage with the person on their behalf. ✧ OP will probably want to lay eyes on the situation, and, if the person stealing their work is tipped off, they might proactively block OP and/or remove posts before they can be verified as stolen. ✧ Do not harass the person who stole the work. It might be coming from a place of wanting to stick up for OP, but it ultimately doesn't help the situation.

OP is experiencing a hate brigade, nasty anons, or trolling over their fic:

PRIORITIZE ACTIONS AND BEHAVIORS THAT KEEP THE FOCUS ON SUPPORT FOR OP ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ Reblog the fic in question with a glowing recommendation or just leave a comment under it expressing your appreciation for it. Both actions will boost the work in question as well as show direct support for OP. ✧ Reach out privately through DMs if you have that sort of relationship, or send a supportive message through asks. Keep it simple and short as they are probably overwhelmed with the shitstorm at certain points. ✧ Speaking up with a supportive comment or post for OP isn't necessarily a bad thing, but arguing back and forth with the trolls/hate brigade/etc. - even if you are doing it with intention to support OP - only fuels the fire, and some of them are doing it for the attention anyway.

OP seems down / isn't motivated to write / is expressing considerations of leaving fic writing altogether because of the current climate on this hellsite:

GIVE THEM THE SPACE OR TIME THEY NEED, BUT ALSO LET THEM KNOW THAT THEY ARE VALUED ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ For the love of god please don't bombard them with asks about when xyz is going to be posted. This is a hobby for them, and they have jobs, families, and other life responsibilities that come first. Many would love nothing more than to sit and write all day, but that just isn't the reality for 99% of fic writers. ✧ Show their older works love, too. Many fic writers take the time to curate an organized masterlist of their works, and many have been writing for a while. There is a trove of wonderful content that can be read or re-read while you patiently wait for your fave to update. ✧ If you're waiting for an update on a specific fic, go back through the older chapters/updates and leave a comment saying you love it so much that you're coming back to visit older chapters while you wait to see what happens next in the story. I guarantee it will give them a boost of motivation for that story in particular. ✧ REBLOG AND COMMENT. Yes, do both of those things. I want you open up a fic you love and scroll down to the bottom where you can see likes, comments, and reblogs. I want you to look at the disparity between likes and comments/reblogs. Clicking a heart button is pretty much zero effort, and it comes across as such to many writers. It's not how Tumblr operates. This is a REBLOG site. That is how things make their way around. That is how posts get engagement. That is how other people can discover the fic writers you enjoy. Look, I even made a meme to show you what it feels like when after hours and hours of writing and editing you finally post a fic and then somebody only hearts it:

Even a simple "I loved this so much and can't wait to read more!" does wonders. A quick reblog that mentions your favorite part in the story is like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow for writers.

You come across people trashing a writer you like:

CONSIDER IF IT'S HELPFUL OR NOT TO ADDRESS IT ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ People are allowed to have negative/differing opinions about things. If they are expressing their dislike, even in a nasty way, they are allowed to do so. ✧ If it is a genuinely harmful/disparaging conversation, look to see what sort of traction the conversation has. Sometimes it's better to just let something die down before it can even take off. Examples of genuinely harmful/disparaging conversation include but aren't limited to: accusing OP of something egregious without any evidence to support it, framing rumors/gossip they've seen about OP as factual, deeming them criminally or morally corrupt based off a personal opinion they have of OP/their works. ✧ Remember that while serious concerns (like the above point) might be good to share with OP, not every instance of negativity or hate needs to be brought to their attention. If it's just some random jerk on a different platform talking about how much OP's writing is amateur hour, you should probably just leave it be. OP is a person at the end of the day, and sometimes things can be more hurtful than helpful for them to see.

OP isn't acting / responding in a way that you like:

REMIND YOURSELF THAT THEY ARE JUST ANOTHER PERSON IN THE FANDOM AND ARE NOT AN INFLUENCER ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ OP isn't in this fandom to be put on a pedestal (of course there are always exceptions, but I'm not talking about those people) and treated like an influencer. ✧ OP creates works in the fandom because that is how they choose to engage with the fandom. It is one of many ways that people can come together in a community and celebrate an actor/movie/series/etc. ✧ OP is not a content farm. They are writing and sharing because they genuinely enjoy it. They are not being compensated. They are not being endorsed by anybody or any company. They are a normal person trying to take part in a fandom they enjoy. ✧ OP is not obligated to address or comment on a situation, an interaction, discourse, etc. They are not an influencer and aren't equivalent to the parasocial relationships that influencers (aka people who make a living off the internet) have with their followers. OP is not required to "use their platform" for something. It's not a platform. It is OP's personal account where they engage and post in fandom. That is why it exists. OP is not some mega entity that has to speak on something because you demand or expect it.

OP blocked me:

THE CALL IS COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ Listen, I know it can be hurtful/confusing if you are blocked, especially if it is a writer you really like. I guarantee you that it was not done out of spite and for no reason. ✧ Take a look at the circles you run in, the posts you like, the sort of comments you leave, etc. Many writers are quick to block these days because the climate of this hellsite is very charged and exhausting. If OP sees your username cropping up again and again in fandom drama or you liked a discourse post with a shitty take or your chummy mutual is going off the rails with some bullshit, you might just get caught up in the Block Party. ✧ Don't go through another channel/account to ask why you've been blocked. No, you aren't entitled to a reason. OP is allowed to protect their mental health and peace, and they don't owe anyone an explanation of why and how they choose to curate their experience on this hellsite. ✧ If you believe you were blocked by mistake (which, again, is very unlikely), just take the L, homie. I know that's not what you want to hear, but that's just how it is.

If you took the time to read this, share it, or just in general intend to apply it to your interactions, ✨thank you✨!

Here is a Pedro gif tax for your time and attention. 💜

#a word from puddles #fandom things #fandom community #pedro pascal fandom

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mera-mera-simp · 1 year

Text

OP Character's Love Languages

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Ussop, Ace and Law

Content Warning: fluff. Some angst (Sanji, Ace and Law)

Pt. 2

Luffy:

Absolutely physical touch. There is no debate on this.

He can and will cling to you with no hesitation. Man doesn't know personal space<3

But you and most of the Strawhats don't mind it. It's sweet.

Though you do have to gently remind him sometimes that not everybody he knows likes it when he does that</3

Definitely a words of affirmation kinda guy too.

This one isn't as often but he loves making you smile.

Constantly telling you how funny you are and how much he loves you. He is a sweet baby even if he's a menace sometimes<3

Sometimes, you'll get a combo of the two. He'll wrap his arms around a multitude of times and tell you all kinds of sweet things just to see you smile.

Gift. Giving.

Please give this sweet baby gifts it will make his eyes light up like stars and he'll treasure it forever.

You could get him the silliest thing and he'll be so happy. You'll have his stretchy arms wrapped around you and multiple kisses on your face while he's yelling 'thank you' multiple times within an instant.

Zoro:

Quality time.

He's not much of a touchy guy and he's not the greatest with words.

But he actively seeks you out on the Sunny. He just wants to be by you<3

He's not great at words, so just being by you is enough for him

He will make you take naps with him<3

He likes to sit by you when he's cleaning his swords.

Please just chill with him while he trains. He likes being in your presence.

This goes both ways low-key. He knows that you love him so he doesn't need to be reminded. And as mentioned earlier, he's not really a touchy feely guy.

So just spending time with you is enough.

Bro loves you so much, he'll chill by you while you're talking to the other strawhats. He doesn't need to involved in the conversation. He'll just sit by you (he'll take a nap depending on where you are on the ship)

Maybe a small bit of gift giving?

Only if he finds it useful though probably.

Get him stuff to clean his swords with and he'll be happy.

Send him over the moon with alcohol.

But definitely quality time for the most part.

Dude just wants to be by you<3

Sanji:

Is it absurd to say that it's everything? (Because I feel like it is but thats cause I'm in love with him and delulu)

He'll match to whatever your love language is babes<3

Gift giving? He'll spoil you

Quality time? Just hang out with him in the kitchen while he cooks

Words of affirmation? He'll tell you a thousand times a day that he loves you

Acts of service? Say the word and your wish is his command.

Physical touch? He'll be all over you.

He'll match your energy.

Sometimes you'll get the buy 1 get 4 free combo.

He bends over backwards for you.

And it's all super sweet. He'll cook for you, buy you some cute trinkets that you like, spend time with you while you're doing something, tell you all kinds of romantic things, and he'll hold your hand at all times

Bro is such a sweet guy<3

Please tell him that you love him. Reassure him for the love of god

He didn't get it a lot as a kid after Sola died so whenever you do, he really appreciates it <3 (Sanji my sad chef, my beloved I love him so much)

Nami:

Look me in the eye and tell me that her loves languages aren't gift giving and acts of service.

She'll be over the moon if you buy her stuff

Specially if it's expensive <3

Bake something for her, Sanji will help you if you ask him to!

She'll give you a bunch of kisses for it. It's her way of say thank you.

You're the only one who doesn't owe her a single berri. Cause why would she charge the love of her life?

She gets a little jealous super easily though. She'll pout at you. Just laugh at her and tell her she's cute. Kiss her cheek, forehead or tip of her nose if you want to make her melt.

Sometimes she'll indulge in physical touch, only for you though.

She'll hold your hand when strolling through a town on a new island. And then persuade you to buy something she likes by acting cute.

She's super appreciative if you do though

She'll hug you and kiss you with a big grin on her face

It makes her feel important

She likes to make you feel important too. She'll actually go out of her way to buy you stuff sometimes. She teases about an interest fee but if you actually try to pay it, it's the only time she refuses

Ussop:

Words of affirmation

My guy needs a lot of reassurance so he appreciates it

Tell him that he's brave and he'll be absolutely smitten

He also likes physical touch

He'll hold you as he tells his stories

Talk to him about the world. You both love being out on the Grandline and seeing how big the world is. It's one your 'late night can't sleep' topics.

Hangout on the deck of the Sunny and look at stars together. He'll hold your hand and point out the constellations to you. (He learned them from Robin, he just wants to impress you<3)

If you hug him from behind randomly, he'll swoon.

He'll let you stay like that too. He thinks it's sweet. He'll just casually talk to you about his day so far.

He's constantly telling you how much he loves you.

You make him feel strong and brave so of course he's going to return the favor.

Overall, Ussop is just a sweet guy. He likes holding your hand and making you smile<3

Ace:

Oh my beloved sad himbo

Please hold him and reassure him.

He's definitely a physical touch and words of affirmation kinda guy too.

Trace the freckles on his face (he'll melt in your arms with a blushing face if you call them mini constellations<3)

He likes to hold you yeah but please hold him. He needs it.

He likes to be in your embrace but he'll only let you do it when you guys aren't in sight of the crew, he's afraid that Marco and Thatch will tease him for a life time. (They wouldn't)

Pepper his face in kisses

This poor cowboy is so sad please tell him all of the things you love about him

Tell him he's worth everything in the world (Ace was the One Piece</3\hj)

Whisper sweet nothings to him as you guys try to fall asleep at night, that's when his head tries to attack him the most.

He appreciates it all and he'll definitely return the favor.

He constantly has you wrapped in his arms.

He'll kiss the top of your head and nuzzle his face into your hair.

He'll purposely act stupid just to see you laugh.

Please just make him happy. He is so sad

He will deny though.

"Me? Sad? Blasphemy."

Law:

Another quality time kinda guy

He doesn't like physical touch

Or words of affirmation

Please don't openly say you love him or promise him anything, the last person who did both those things died almost immediately after (he's traumatized </3)

Just spend some time with him, that's all he asks. You don't have to say anything he just wants to he by you.

He doesn't know how to accept gifts so that's also kinda out of the question

If you do something for him though, he'll be appreciative. In his own way

Just quality time for the most part.

Just sit by him while he reads or looks over some notes he has.

He's comforted by your presence, you make him happy even if he never outwardly shows it

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reveluving · 8 months

Text

cold little kisses ; yandere!singer x reader

summary: Omar's love knows no bounds.

warnings: s~mut (minors DNI!) & tooth-rotting fluff!

a/n: I LOVE @oncomingnight 's OCs to BITS, but Omar has been haunting me for DAYS. OP if you're reading this, hi!! Quick question; is the man in the original post like someone someone? ‘Cause he now comes to mind whenever I think of him ✋🏼😔 Hope you don't mind me giving this sweetheart a go! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

'But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.' ;

Smut includes: unprotected sex (p in v), cockwarming, slight teasing & marking, drools & sweat, body worship, soft!dom!Omar!

Omar believed you were God's gift at its purest form, and to be the luckiest son of a gun when you bestowed before him that very day?

Absolute miracle.

There was no way he could have wiped the lovestruck smile off his face every morning, waking up to you in your most vulnerable.

The extravagant sight of Quebec was already a treat as it was, enjoying the spot with his wife was another. He was more than content to watch you marvel at the snowy night, eyes twinkling in the fairy lights as the snowflakes fell on you like an extraordinary being blessing the Earth, but that would be unceremonious of him.

“Omar, look.” You gasped for the umpteenth time tonight, bending down at the line of the nation's quintessential souvenirs, handcrafted in ways that would surely grab the attention of first-time tourists. Those familiar with the renowned singer were kind enough to leave him and his beloved be, going only as far as taking a picture of the two from a distance to share on their social media later and rake in OMGs or any other forms of awe.

That, and many were smart enough to stay away, having witnessed the more intimidating side of him online at the mere mention of you in manners that never sat right with him.

“Would you like that one?” He asked, his deep voice never failed to send shivers down your spine.

“Omar, we already have so much.” You raised the bags in your hands, plus motioning to the majority that he had offered to hold. Brows furrowing a little in a way that you feel guilty that he has to play tour guide for you, no matter how many times you have visited.

“Well, who else is going to beautify our new bookshelf, if not you?” He chuckled, languidly walking over to stand next to you. He briefly surveyed the souvenirs through the glass, only for his eyes to flit towards you within seconds, prompting your face to burn, despite the chilly air hitting you, “We're buying it.”

Omar ducking his head was a telltale sign of him wanting to steal a kiss, but rather than feeling his lips on yours, he pecked the cold tip of your nose. Embarrassed by the affectionate display in public, you hid your face in his chest, your giggles vibrating through him.

That didn't stop him from showering you with more, planting kisses after kisses on the top of your head while he rested his free hand on the small of your back.

But like the greedy man he was, he never stopped. Not even when the two of you returned to his cabin.

Your eyes were brimming with tears, glassy to the point where you couldn't pinpoint the nature on the other side of the window beyond silhouettes. Your mind was no better, your brain already in the midst of turning mush in favour of him prodding your cervix.

He cooed at you, akin to a delicate flower if not for the way one of his hands gripped at your ass tightly. Blunt nails leaving marks for him to appreciate in the next sunrise. His other hand lightly held the back of your head, leaving you no choice but to stare back at him in a drunken haze.

Omar welcomed your drools and tears dripping down his chest, occasionally leaving damp marks on his shirt, all unbuttoned but barely removed from his shoulders. The half-disheveled look on him was a sight to behold, the oh-so-put-together-singer nowhere to be seen.

You felt full, and you were full, the stretch around him evident when bouncing you up and down his cock required his aid. You would've fallen back or sagged in his arms if not for his own holding you snug against his chest. Although, that didn't mean he wasn't seconds away from losing himself into the feeling either—falling back into the velvet seat with one arm around you, chest heaving in shallow breaths and skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.

His body akin to a Greek God, created to worship his one and only with loyalty, riches and silk, and protect you from the dangers of humanity alone, or even the unforgiving weather that occured beyond the safety of his luxurious cabin.

Lost in the way you squeezed him each time he rolled his hips, he surged forward, wrapping his lips around one of your pebbled tits. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing his face further into your breasts as he shamelessly looked up at you through his lashes.

“Omar…” You hiccuped, brushing your lips against his forehead, moving your hips when he stilled you for a moment. It felt sickly sweet. something only he had the privilege of—of your body and soul, “Move, please…”

He couldn't say no to you, not now, not ever, even if he wanted nothing more than to listen to your pretty voice and hold you real close.

So long your lips, your mind, your you—could do nothing more than reciprocate his own desires, he'd only stop at his own expense when hell freezes over.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» Bonus HC from the train pic on OP's post:

I love the thought of Omar, with his reading glasses as he writes the lyrics of his upcoming song on a journal and casually drinks his coffee. But he's also watching his beloved play a one-player card game in front of him with a warm smile. UGH.

» deadass could not help it. this is one of those 'if I don't do something about it, no matter how short or quick it is, I'll sure as hell think about it for a LONG time.' ksjslsksls ;; tagging @firefly-graphics for the gorgeous divider ♡

#— reve's reverie 🌹#again: he's not my oc!! he's made by oncomingnight!#pls check them out!! 😭💗#yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere oc #yandere singer x reader #yandere x willing reader #yandere oc x y/n #oc x reader #oc x you #oc x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere oc x f!reader #yandere x f!reader

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just-a-sewer-goblin · 3 months

Text

Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Part 8 continuation of your little date, I hope you enjoy! Also haven't proofread it because I didn't want to make you all wait another week for it. Sorry. You're welcome to point out errors to me. English words were hard this time, sorry if some of it is redundant. Part 7 | COD Masterlist | Part 9

Simon watches you from the corner of his eyes while you two walk alongside each other through the park. You’re tossing a ball for Wraith and the guard dog basically turned into an overgrown puppy at the sight of the toy.

It’s gotten late and after you spent the entire afternoon in the Café talking, Wraith needed a walk. Instead of saying goodbye you invited Simon to tag along. That’s a win, right? It’s a big step. You voluntarily decided to spend more time with him and Simon can feel himself vibrate with excitement.

“So an ex-soldier. What exactly did you do?”, you ask him while you toss Wraith’s ball for the thousandth time. You turn your pretty face towards him and he meets your eyes, puts his hands into his pockets and slightly shrugs his shoulders.

“Spec Ops.”, is his simple answer and you furrow your brows.

“Spe- what?” The confusion in your voice is adorable and Simon balls his fists, stuffs them deeper into his pockets so he doesn’t do something stupid (like pull you in and kiss you breathless).

“Special Operations. We weren’t really deployed somewhere permanently, instead they sent us wherever we were needed. Lots of stuff I am not allowed to talk about.”, he explains and wonders if you’ll be scared of him again.

When he looks at you, your eyes are wide. “Oh.”, you mutter and seem to think hard. It grows quiet for a minute and a small smile finds its way onto Simon’s lips. You’re chewing your lips again, seemingly troubled and who the fuck allowed you to look so adorable doing that.

“What is it, sweetheart.”, he asks, his voice warm and soft. He really hopes you can’t hear the lovesick undertone.

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to ask.”, you explain and grin self-conscious. He wants to lick the awkwardness off your lips (whoa okay, he really needs to get his thoughts in check).

Instead of doing that like a total creep, he tells you: “You can ask whatever you want, sweetheart. We’ll see what I can answer.”

You nod and think again. So far you haven’t protested his continued use of petnames. He enjoys it, enjoys claiming you with words in a subtle way. The only thing he’d enjoy even more would be you claiming him back. With words, marks, a collar, anything as long as he gets to be yours.

By now you’re walking closely besides him, and every now and then your arms brush against each other. It sends a shock up his arm every time, makes his neck tingle and his jaw clench in an effort to hold back, to not overwhelm you. The last thing he wants is to fuck up with you. As much as he wants to hold you he’d rather endure torture again than make you uncomfortable by coming on too strong.

“Why did you retire?”, you finally ask. “You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not!”, you immediately add in the same breath and Simon chuckles a bit at that.

The way you’re glancing at him seems nervous. It’s oddly endearing, like you’re nervous of misstepping with him. He quite enjoys that look on your face. Making you nervous in a way that doesn’t stem from fear is weirdly thrilling and he wants to keep doing it (would you be nervous if he pushed you up against a tree? If he used his height to his advantage and had you at his mercy? Would you be nervous if you had him at your mercy? God, he wants to be at your mercy).

“’s alright, sweets. Had a mission that went south, can’t really go into details. After that they set us up with a comfortable new life and told us to start over.” He can see the curiousness plain as day in your eyes and he wants to kick the officials who’re keeping him from just telling you everything.

Maybe someday he’ll do it anyway. Fuck if anyone can dictate him what to talk about. He’ll definitely tell you someday. Once he’s yours and sure you won’t run from him for revealing his past.

You cock your head at that. “Can you tell me about your team?”, you ask instead of prying and he could kiss you for that alone (he’s not sure he could have denied you, had you asked with your sweet voice and big curious eyes).

He nods at you and your face practically lights up with a big smile at the opportunity to finally get more info. He’s tempted to tell you every single confidential thing he knows, just to see you light up like that again.

“The lads are all in town. We’re four. Johnny, the fucker, owns a bakery. Flirts with everyone that comes in. People dig the accent.”, he begins and you perk up.

“Accent? It’s not the Scottish one, is it? What was his name…”, you seem to wrack your brain for it. “Mac…. Mac…”

“MacTavish.”, Simon supplies and you beam at him.

“I know that guy! His bread is to die for.”, you claim and Simon can’t really tell you that he already knows you frequent his friends bakery (he might have seen you there when he went to visit Johnny at work; might have worked out the times you go to Johnny’s and visited him more often around that time).

“He seems really nice but…”, you trail off and when you don’t continue Simon gently nudges you with his elbow to go on (you don't seem bothered by the contact, and he's surprised by himself for daring to do that so casually), curious what you might have to say about Johnny. You hesitate.

“Go on, sweetheart.”, he urges gently.

“… he kinda intimidates me.”, you finally admit and suddenly Simon is grinning like the cat that caught the canary. Johnny intimidates you. Who would have ever guessed.

Johnny, who only recently teased him that ‘the cutie’ would never warm up to him because of his scary mask, intimidates you. Yet scary Simon is the one you’re taking a stroll in the park with. He desperately wants to rub it in Johnny’s face.

“Don’t tell your friend about it, but I can’t ever seem to remember his name. My friends and I refer to him as MacFlurry.”, you add, blushing but grinning mischievously.

Simon stares at you for a second and he can see the smile slowly drop and the apology forming on your lips when he starts laughing. He clutches his ribs, doubling over. Oh he’s gonna have so much fun with this information.

After a few seconds your laughter joins his as you’re helplessly giggling along, his booming laughter infectious.

“That…”, he laughs. “That’s great. Fucking MacFlurry.” He practically wheezes in laughter. Shit, he wants to marry you. Right here, right now.

Your giggle is beautiful and slightly bashful. Simon wishes he could catch it in a jar so he might listen to the heavenly sound again and again.

Finally he catches his breath and straightens up a bit, his eyes are twinkling, creases all around them from smiling so widely. He wants to tug you in close and thank you for existing.

“You know, sweetheart, I could always introduce you to MacFlurry and the others. We’re meeting up this evening. Wanna tag along?”, he blurts out before he can reconsider and your eyes grow wide and alarmed.

#the sewer writes #simon riley x reader #butcher!simon x gn!reader #butcher!simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader

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thedexcat · 10 days

Text

VotV Speculation Megapost

(For posterity's sake, the latest major release is 0.8) (Also, buckle in. This post is a long one.) (Edit 9/20/24: Added Addendum 1) As we all know, Voices of the Void has a "story breadcrumbs" approach to its plot. Combine that with its alpha status, and we're left with a lack of hard answers. However, some pieces did seem to click into place. This is far from anything definitive, but here are some of the conclusions I've drawn. Let's start with everybody's favorite:

Part 1: The Arirals

god i want one to hold me like that

You know em. You love em. Like 90% of the fanart is about them. But the question is... what the hell are they doing here? Judging by the fact that they construct a campsite in the facility, they clearly expect to be here for a while. A common interpretation I hear from people is that the ones out in the facility are either political refugees, or just some sort of benign "tourist group". I've personally come to a different conclusion. Let's consider what they brought with them.

Exhibit A: The weapon (left)

The weapon they drop around Day 24 is no mere Star Trek phaser. If you drop it in the main building, pretty much EVERYTHING in the building is going to be sent flying from the resulting blast. Not only that, but the "human-wieldable" version that can be unlocked for the sandbox mode has one hell of a fire rate. Something tells me that there's no way in hell this thing is a civilian-grade weapon. And, as established in a previous post of mine, they're kitted out in full-body armored stealth suits.

Exhibit B: The stealth suit (Kerf dutifully remains there for scale)

These aren't tourists or runaways. They're goddamn Black Ops. But you're probably asking, "If that's what they are, then why do they have nothing better to do than to steal shrimp and prank you?" Don't worry, I'll get to that later. Eventually. Maybe.

For now, let's move on to a third thing of theirs: The letter to Kel.

Exhibit C: Esraniki's Letter (D-, see me after english class)

This is the letter left at the Ariral camp if you have maxxed reputation with them. There's one line in particular that's always stood out to me. "GET WE HOME YOU GET DEATH AVOID" So... why can't they go home? Let's review: A: They have perfectly functional spacecraft parked right behind you. Even if they were broken, surely some random Pre-FTL primitive wouldn't be able to help with a mechanical failure in their technology. Hell, they buzz you at the radio tower with one. So there seems to be nothing physically stopping them from leaving. B: They've come kitted out with some serious weapons and armor C: Something in the facility is drawing the attention of all manner of extraterrestrials (and ghosts and demons. are 'metaterrestrials' a good word for them?) So my take? They're monitoring something, waiting for an opportunity to act upon it. (In keeping with the Patch Note naming convention, I will be calling this unknown something "The Threat") Not only that, this 'opportunity' may only open up with the assistance of a human. But what could Dr. Kel possibly do that an Ariral couldn't? Well, I can think of one thing he can do better... Interface with human technology.

Exhibit D: Ariral Communique (quality: shit) Computer technology isn't some universal constant. You can't make a program and expect it to magically run on alien technology with an unknown architecture. This ain't Independence Day. The fact that the Arirals barely managed to send a heavily-garbled message to Kel's computer, quite frankly, speaks of an extreme amount of effort on their part. And it was all just to say the word "OUTSIDE".

If The Threat has some ties to human technology, then perhaps Kel actually could be more qualified to deal with it than the Ariral Black Ops. Hmm... An unknown threat with ties to human technology. Could it possibly involve...

Part 2: The Incredibly Suspicious Bunker

"I left a 'Do not enter' note on the floor. That'll stop people from investigating!" This damn thing is quite obviously, as TVtropes would put it, The Very Definitely Final Dungeon. It is my firm belief that this is what the Arirals were sent to monitor, and where The Threat can be found. But we can't really get much further in than a few doors. So... what's in there? An easy assumption to make is that it's some sort of fallout/storm shelter. But something nearby might tell a different story...

Exhibit E: *squints* ...Liberty Prime? If you take a metal detector over to the bunker entrance, you'll quickly discover a buried drive nearby. The image you just saw is its contents. It's clear that something is being depicted here. What exactly it is, well, that's hard to say. but if you look at that teeny tiny thing at the top, you'll see something that looks like the Alpha base and its radio tower

oh god we're getting into crusty duende video territory now

What this says to me is that there is a colossal something underneath the base. Some sort of mega-facility? Unnatural cave formations? Something else entirely? Or I could be looking at it entirely wrong. But the point is, it's very likely that something extremely expansive is down there.

What if we could just take a peek a liiiittle bit further in? Well, there is ONE way...

Exhibit F: The Least Cursed Elevator in Horror Fiction

Roughly around 3:33 each night, there is a chance that a camera inside the bunker will become active. It's monitoring what appears to be a heavy-duty elevator coated in blood. An elevator like this would also indicate something buried deep underneath the base. Say, this elevator seems familiar...

youtube

Exhibit G: Monique Santificer's Extremely Ominous Foreshadowing

...Huh. I'm sure that only means good things. So we have a Hellivator and evidence that there's some place that you'd need a Hellivator to get to. Are there any other clues around? Well, there's that handy instruction book on robotics. You can make your own little friend!

POV: You're 5'11 and she's 6'0 And... Oh! looking back at that camera, it looks like someone else made their... their own... friend...

Exhibit H: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- ...I don't think they followed the instructions to the letter. So it seems the people in the bunker were working on combining robots and, er, 'biomass'. I don't think our meaty friend here is The Threat itself, but I do believe that it is some aspect of it, or at least a result of it. And whatever The Threat is, it seems to be "leaking" out of the bunker. After all, this toothy bot here seems to have little siblings burrowing out from underground!

Exhibit I: should start running Kerfus. Kerfur. Whatever name they have, they love you! Such a shame that the flesh inhabiting their chassis does not.

they seriously recalled the ++ models over a little thing like this, smh Something deep underground, cursed flesh, and occult sigils. Hmm. Things would tie together neatly if there were, say, some sort of demon around associated with flesh and dark depths.

Part 3: Furfur (and conclusions)

"I WATCH YOU SHIT AT NIGHT" The Great Earl of Hell and raw flesh afficianato, it's Furfur! Demonology refers to him as a liar, but also a teacher of secrets. And he seems to really really like flesh. Not bones, though. He's always leaving those behind.

They say that if you burn an offering of flesh at his altar, he'll give you a marketable Furfur plushie!

The children who survived loved them! Interestingly, there's a certain location connected to Furfur: The bottom of the well. If you pass out at the bottom of the well, you will end up in a (dream of a?) mysterious structure.

Exhibit J: all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well

A few things of note in this place: -More demonic sigils -The only 'exit' is a tunnel leading upward with a broken ladder. And even if you could reach up there, Furfur's giant skull-face is blocking the way. -A unique knife, which when examined in the inventory, says that it was found "deep underground".

How very interesting that this flesh-loving demon has his own little place down in the depths of the earth. And you say the bunker reaching downwards has been spawning horrific robot-flesh amalgamations? Robots that are specifically of human design?

Well then. So here's what I think is going down:

no i'm not crazy it's invisible alien catgirls versus demon cyborgs you weren't listening were you?

-Some scientists from before did a Very Bad Thing in the bunker depths. If I had to venture a guess, it's that they bargained with Furfur for secrets of the flesh, perhaps in the pursuit of cybernetics, biocomputers, or somesuch. This resulted in the Very Bad Thing happening, thus creating The Threat. -The Threat was contained to some extent, but is starting to noticeably leak out. It is also severe enough to have drawn extraterrestrial attention. -The Arirals have sent a squad to monitor the situation and act if necessary. Seeing as there's been no urgent need to act as of yet, they are bored out of their skulls and taking it out on you. -The fact that the bunker hasn't been blown up by catgirl black ops already says to me that the situation down there is delicate, and a 'guns-blazing' approach would be inadvisable. Not only that, but The Threat seems to be tied to technology they have little knowledge of. They would most likely need outside assistance if they want a 'clean' resolution to the problem. -And wouldn't you know it? Right there in the facility is some nerdy, crusty, half-crazed twink that seems to be very proficient in handling human technology. How very convenient.

"average person eats 3 roaches a year" factoid actually just statistical error. Dr. Kel, who-

That's how I think this ties together, personally. Of course, there's always unaccounted for 'loose ends' that may or may not be tied to the Bunker Conspiracy (the rozital pit in particular has been bugging me with its vagueness). Plus there's always the chance that I misinterpreted things like a dumbass. There were a few other smaller things I wanted to cover, but my fingers hurt from typing, and my ability to hyperfixate has its limits. And sorry if the screengrabs are a bit mismatched, I've already spent hours on this post without having to get screenshots from the game myself. If anyone actually read through this monstrosity of a post, congratulations! If you're as deeply brainrotted as I am, feel free to point out the reasons I'm dumb and wrong :)

Addendum 1: Meta Aspects

no, not this. wrong place. wrong time.

Every now and then I hear talk of lore clarifications in Discord servers, Google Docs, etc. Will I be covering these?

(source) The reason? I want to give my impressions based purely on the work as published. Death of the Author and whatnot. The furthest I'll reach 'outside' the games are those ambiguous little teasers on YouTube, which you don't have to be in any 'specific server' or anything to see.

youtube

haha what if funni meme robot was irreversibly corrupted by the horrors?

Think of it as me giving a form of feedback on how the game is presented as an isolated work. Anyway, I'll be posting another Addendum later, connecting more demon stuff to the bunker. Fun! One thing I intend to investigate between then and now is a rumor of a very poorly documented... item interaction. As a little preview, consider this note.

It seems, in my pursuit of knowledge regarding a mysterious bunker in an incomplete videogame story, I find myself investigating a skeletal entity of ambiguous origin described as having a single glowing eye. God. Fucking. Dammit. Every time with this shit.

This always seems to happen whenever the protagonist is bullied by tall monstergirls

#votv spoilers #votv #ariral #spoilers #tw blood #dr kel #voices of the void #votv speculation #speculation #furfur #kerfur #kerfus #kerfus omega #this is what hyperfixation and brainrot does to you #i should have been in bed like five hours ago #Youtube

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spookitapes · 1 year

Note

Hello, i love your fics! Im a bit embarassed but i had an idea earlier today. Imagine beig on a relationship with Ted while hes a trip visiting every margaritaville or rain forest, whatever you prefer and you miss him a lot so when you can finally go visit him on the trip he shows you how much he missed you by fucking you so good you barely walk the next day. Okay thats all, thank you bye!

a/n: oh my gosh don't be embarrassed! pls send me more stuff I love it !!! and thank you so much for the support< 33 it's mainly RFC buuuut i did a little bonus of margaitaville ft. schlatt at the end :))) sorry it took me a minute to see this in my inbox!! but I hope you enjoy it bc this was actually super fun to write !!

!! 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI !!

surprising ted on his rainforest cafe roadtrip hc's

❧ getting the trip schedule from eddy so you can pick which days works best for you

❧ planning it weeks before they even leave

❧ ted having literally no clue what’s happening

❧ stuffing his face with safari fries when he hears an all too familiar “teddy!” coming from behind him

❧ thinking he’s finally going crazy bc why is he imagining your voice amongst the animatronic themed restaurant's ambiance ??

❧ almost tackling him out of his chair when you finally reach him bc you didn’t realize you were full-on sprinting in the rainforest cafe

❧ a very sweet reunion that takes ted entirely by surprise

❧ (don't worry eddy gets a good angle) it's some nice behind-the-scenes footage for you two :))

❧ “jesus christ honey i didn’t know you’re that strong!”

❧ ted laying his head on your shoulder anytime he can

❧ sharing a sparkling volcano for the memory of it

❧ getting back to the hotel and making out in the elevator on the way to the room you booked

❧ him immediately pinning you to the door when it closes

❧ he's missed you so much

❧ missed your body so much

❧ he'd been having to take cold showers

❧ and that worked until he found the nude polaroids you had left him in his luggage

❧ he's been reduced to jerking off, switching to hot steam instead of a standing ice bath

❧ so you can't really blame him for taking you right there

❧ stripping you of only what's necessary

❧ if your wearing jeans? gone. pants of any kind? bye bye. shorts? across the room...but a dress or a skirt? he's just pushing it up your hips

❧ pulling your panties to the side (if you're wearing any op-)

❧ hiking one of your legs up onto his hip as he barely gets his cock out of his pants before pushing into you

❧ both of you letting out a gasp as he bottoms out

❧ him holding your hand against the door with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other

❧ eventually bringing your leg around his hip up over his shoulder so he can hit deeper

❧ him fucking you so rough the do not disturb sign's swinging on the other side of the door

❧ once you both cum he'll carry you over to the bed so he can finish stripping you

❧ slowly peeling the clothes away as he kisses your skin that appears

❧ him pushing your face into the sheets to muffle the porn star level moans leaving your mouth

❧ "god baby, you're gonna get us kicked out if you keep screaming like that."

❧ but how can you stay quiet when he's balls deep drilling you from the back giving you the best dick of your life ??

❧ him getting fed up so he puts one of his big ass hands over your mouth as he fucks you harder

❧ just the sounds of skin on skin slapping, ted's groans, and your muffled sobs fill the room

❧ going at least three more rounds before he's carrying you to the bathtub to clean you up

❧ begging him to get in with you and getting him to after pulling out the big eyes and jutted out bottom lip combo

❧ scooting up so he can slide in behind you

❧ just holding each other in the warm bubbley water

❧ "i love you so much baby, remind me to never go on a trip without you again."

❧ it's followed with a tender kiss on your forehead

❧ you pause a moment before shifting your head so you can catch his eyes, a smile overtaking your features

❧ he thinks you're gonna say something sappy, something that'll probably make you tear up

❧ "you can go on as many trips as you want if that's how you're gonna fuck me."

❧ he splashes you with the bath water...

❧ the next day he's calling you to hurry up and get ready, something about needing to be back on the road

❧ he gets met with a long, loud, angry groan in return

❧ "uuhhhh honey, you alright?"

❧ him being met with your pouty face looking up from the mound of pillow you had it buried in

"i don't wanna talk to you. you did this to me!"

❧ he's about to question you before you throw your legs off the side and go to stand...only to go tumbling over before ted leaps across the room to save you

❧"your hero," he's smirking down at you, hands around your back and hip as you dangle mid-air

❧ "...more like my murderer." you murmur it out

❧ "oh and who exactly did i kill? you look alive to me."

❧ "MY WHOLE LOWER BODY YOU BIGDICK ASSHOLE!"

(bonus)

you two definitely fuck at jschlatt's during margaritaville

❧ setting it up with schlatt bc you promise him a gift (WINK)

❧ you jump out and surprise them when they get to schlat't's place

❧ him almost tackling you this time

❧ "i fuckin' told ya! HA mother fucker now you owe me $50!" schlatt's laughing maniacally as usual

❧ ted fucking you in front of schlatt as a thank you for the surprise

❧ "this is way fuckin' better than on facetime." (read my other work to get the refrenceeeee)

❧ making you ride him as schlatt records it on ted's phone

❧ reverse cowgirl to get good angles of your pretty face and so ted can watch your greedy hole swallow up his big cock

❧ schlatt shoving the camera in your face when you start getting sloppy, thighs burning from riding your lover for so long

❧ "go on and look at me, angel," he's using his free hand to grip your throat to look at him but your eyes are still closed

❧ ted's interrupting him for a second, "do ya wanna cum? keep on bouncin' then. I'll rub your slutty lil clit if you keep takin' my dick so good."

❧ "be a good little bitch and smile for the camera—thaaaaat's it, honey."

#cass.ted #ted nivison x reader #ted nivision smut #ted nivison #ted nivison x you #jschlatt #jschlatt smut #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x reader #chuckle sandwich #chuckle sandwich smut #chuckle sandwich x reader #chuckle sandwich x you #cass.jschlatt #cass.lair

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 1 year

Text

Sleepy desperation ♡

Leon S. Kennedy x reader

A/N: It's time for a celebration, folks! My very first smut. So this could potentially be bad but I hope it's not lol! Just some sleepy and soft sex with Leon <3 (and maybe a little desperate)

Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Warnings: NSFW CONTENT proceed with caution. Oral sex (fem receiving), PiV, creampie.

Word count: 1.4k

Please don't copy my work. I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

☁️●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●🌼●●●●●●●●●●●●●●☁️

You were woken by the soft patter of rain on your window. Groggily, you slightly lifted your head to look out said window. A small, sleepy smile crept onto your face. It was a rainy October day, which meant that you could stay in bed with your lover all day. A perfect day, in your book. You could watch a movie or maybe even bake something. The options were limitless. But, your heart desired to stay right here, curled up in your warm bed, with Leon's arms wrapped around you.

Closing your eyes again, you snuggled back into his chest. Letting out a sleepy yet satisfied hum, he pulled you even closer. His eyes slowly fluttered open and he smiled at you. That sleepdrunk, goofy smile. He gently caressed your cheek, coaxing a smile on your face. "G'Mornin', Beautiful," he said, his voice husky. It was a low rumble in his chest. You let out yawn.

"Morning, Handsome," you replied, sleep clinging to you. A lopsided grin sat on his face as he ran his fingers through your hair. "You sleep okay?" He asked, a soft tone to his rough voice. You looked up at him with those gorgeous eyes. God, he loved waking up like this. Waking up with you. He couldn't stop the lovesick smile on his face. "Yeah... you?" You mumbled, moving closer to him to bury your face in his chest. He hummed in response.

Gently cupping your chin, he pulled you away from him and admired you. "My perfect girl..." Leon whispered, an adoring look in his eyes. You returned a hazy grin with flushed cheeks. Without hesitating, he pressed his lips to yours in a soft but desperate kiss. Leon's kisses became more heated. He pushed you against the soft sheets and climbed on top of you, wrapping your legs around his waist in the process.

You let out a low and soft moan when he cupped your face and groped at the flesh of your thigh. "God... I gotta have you, baby. Please, can I have you?" He pleaded lowly. Leon was breathing heavily, eyes hazy and lips swollen. Fuck. He looked so good like this. You had to stop op your eyes from rolling in the back of your head at that statement. Nodding eagerly, you moaned again when he smashed his mouth to yours again, feverishly.

He began to place wet kisses along your jaw and down your neck. Leon nipped and sucked at your skin, leaving deep pink marks. You tilted your head to give him better access and tangled your fingers in his hair. "Fuck.." you groaned. He slid down the bed, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs and pulling you closer to his face. He stroked your pussy through your panties, ruining them completely. "Shit, gorgeous... you're soaked." He said quietly, almost mesmerized.

Leon helped you wiggle out of your underwear and he threw them across the room. He placed one hand on your waist, kneading the soft flesh, while the other was tightly wound around your thigh, keeping your hips in place. He licked a stripe up your wet cunt and hummed at the taste. The vibrations send a shock down your spine and your hands flew on top of his, gripping them tightly. He teased your hole with the tip of his tongue before moving up and lazily stroking your clit with his thumb.

Short breaths and moans escaped your lips as he continued to eat you out. It wasn't rushed, it was slow and sensual. And it felt so damn good. Leon swirled his tounge around your clit and then wrapped his lips around it and gently sucked. Your head fell back and your hips were bucking into his face. He maoned into your pussy, making you moan and whine. "Oh God, Leon... " you whimpered, grinding your cunt on his face. "Come f'me, baby..." he mumbled, making your eyes roll into the back of your head.

The hot feeling in your stomach was getting hotter and hotter. With one last flick of his tongue, something inside of you snapped, and your orgasm washed over you. You let out staggered breaths and curses, your thighs shaking lightly. Leon lazily dragged his tongue through your folds and then pulled away, nipping and sucking at your inner thighs. Your chest was heaving, and you had a hazy look in your eyes.

Raking your fingers through his blonde locks, you pulled him up so you were face to face and kissed him hungrily. He let out a low groan when your lips met his. You reached one of your hands in between you two and palmed his hard cock through his briefs. He let out the slightest whimper, bucking his hips into your hand. God, he was so needy today. But that's okay, because so were you.

"Need you to fuck me, please..." you whined, tugging at his underwear. He moaned against your lips, quickly pushing down his briefs. "'M'gonna fuck you so good, baby..." he muttered, absolutely drunk on you. He stroked himself a few times, pre-cum dripping onto your stomach. He dragged his cock through your wet folds, the tip deliciously catching on your clit, making you gasp. He prodded at your hole before slowly pushing in.

A breath got caught in your throat when you took him, inch by inch. You let a string of maons and whines when he was all the way inside you. Leon maoned loudly, and you could feel him shivering once he was buried in your warmth. Leon slowly started moving his hips, making you see stars. He leaned over you and captured your lips in a searing kiss.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, he had to brace himself with his arms right beside your head. Mumbled praises fell from his lips as he thrusted into your pussy, continously hitting that one spot. Your head was completely empty, all you could think about was Leon and how fucking good he felt right now. You moaned and mewled as he picked up the pace, desperately bucking his hips into yours.

"You feel s'fucking good, sweetheart.." he groaned against your lips. You could feel his hips staggering, he was close. He didn't last as long in the mornings, and neither did you to be honest. There was something so much more intimate to having sleepy and soft sex like this, that made him so sensitive. Maybe it was the heat and closeness of your body, or the steady beat of your heart.

Leon leaned back, his hands pushing the shirt you slept in up to your chin, giving him a perfect view of your soft tits before his strong hands finally settled on your hips. He watched them move as he pumped into you, prompting him to speed up his pace. "F-Fuck, baby..." he maoned, throwing his head back. His beautiful neck was on display, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

You could feel your second orgasm approaching, squeezing around Leon. He let out a breathy groan when he felt your pussy clenching him so tight. That was all you needed and with a cry of his name you came again, clutching his hands that were still situated on your hips. Leon's thrusts became deeper and harder, making you mewl.

"M'gonna come inside you, okay?" He breathed out, hazily looking down at you for approval. You nodded and gave his hands a squeeze. He let out a chant of I love you's and spilled inside you. You could feel his warm cum coating your walls and that alone made you moan again. Breathing heavily, he slowly pulled out of you and watched his cum drip out of you and right onto the sheets.

He laid down next to you and pulled you close. "You okay, sweetheart? You did so well f'me," he muttered, stroking your hair. "Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?" You asked, lazily looking up at him. "I'm fine. God, that was fucking amazing," he laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You giggled and placed on of your hands on his cheek to caress it. "Let's take a shower and get cleaned up, hm?" He suggested sleepily, rubbing his hand over your thigh. "I'm feeling more like a bath."

"Is that an invitation for round 2, pretty girl?" He smirked, sqeezing your thigh.

"Maybe it is, pretty boy."

☁️●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●🌼●●●●●●●●●●●●●●☁️

Hope you enjoyed~

#bumblebeesfromvenus #resident evil x reader #resident evil leon #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy comfort #leon kennedy fluff

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jermer10 · 8 months

Note

This might be a weird request but can you do one where you're dating the Mercenaries and you figure out your pregnant so you tell them?

TF2 mercs with a pregnant s/o

afab reader | this req wasn't weird at all! thank you op, and i apologize for it taking so long to write! <3

drabbles under the cut :P

Scout: - being the youngest of 8, he wasn't exactly aware of pregnancy signs first hand, though he had heard things from his ma and brothers - so when he noticed you had been sicker, sleeping longer, and having food aversions to things you would otherwise love, he had slowly put pieces of the puzzle together - doesn't wanna bring it up with you, he doesn't want to alarm you, and slyly implies getting a pregnancy test after he sees you vomiting for the 3rd morning that week - when he finds out, he is ecstatic!!! <33333 - would LOVE it if his kids were into baseball, definitely the playing catch in the yard kid of dad - has always been big on having a family, but can't help but also feel incredibly nervous??? - his dad was never there, would he even be a good dad? spoiler alert, he is an amazing dad

Soldier: - completely oblivious to the idea that you could be pregnant, and instead sends you to the infirmary thinking you had just eaten some bad bread - to his complete and utter shock, you came out pregnant - "honey, no, i was already pregnant..." there's no use, he doesn't care who made you pregnant, he was going to be a dad! - is already picturing your white picket fence american life together with 2.5 kids and a dog - doesn't believe in maternity leave, will try to get you onto the battlefield despite the fact that you are seven months pregnant and can barely walk (medic has to explain why you cannot, soldier is outraged) - the kind of guy who really wants a son but is blessed with a daughter instead and ends up having more in common with her - "CAN WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE?" he is so sweet like actually <333

Demoman: - demo is always sick, it comes with the alcoholism - but when you're sick? he is worried, like, extremely worried - at first he thinks it's the flu, maybe gastro? anything but what all the signs point to, please don't be pregnancy - when you show him the positive tests, he holds you and cries - he is so terrified at the idea of being a father, he's an alcoholic, he's never had to take care of anything in his life, not even himself - god, he couldn't bare having to explain the egregious duty of abandoning their child until they come of age, like his parents had done to him, and theirs to them - but, he also really wanted a family with you - he saw how happy this baby would make you, how excited you were to have one with him - when he sees his baby for the first time, he knows that he made the right choice

Heavy: - having three younger sisters, he knew what pregnancy was like - and when his father was executed, he knew he had to protect those sisters as if they were his own children - he absolutely loves the idea of having a small family with you, a peaceful life without bloodshed - so when you come to him, teary eyed, holding what looked like a pregnancy test, he didn't hesitate to embrace you in the most suffocating, loving hug he could muster - "У нас будет ребенок!" he is so incredibly happy - he treats you like royalty, spoils you so hard (as if he didn't already) - his mother and sisters knit you baby clothes!!!! <33333 - will not let anyone near you, he absolutely refuses any harm to you or your baby, if you get sick he ails your illness, if you are hurt he treats your wounds - you are the most precious thing to him, and now so is your baby

Engineer: - it wouldn't come as a surprise to him at all, as you had likely discussed having a baby and trying for one multiple times beforehand - that doesn't stop him from bawling his eyes out anyway - you hold each other for hours, happily crying and giggling about how your future together will look - designs all the baby furniture with added features to make your life easier - feeding bowls that prevent food spillage, chairs that are completely non slip, a baby cradle with an inbuilt monitor and mobile with little wooden tools and machinery - the most proactive father any child could ever want in their lives, he will drop everything to support you and this baby - invests in his kid's hobbies, shows up to every baseball game, every recital, every play

Medic: - medic's never really thought about having kids before - he could honestly live without ever having them - he's giving you a physical, when he notices some of the telltale physical pregnancy signs and decides to give you a test - oh fuck! you were pregnant! - immediate panic mode, he has no idea how to be a father! he offers multiple options for you to undergo surgery to remove it - if you are insistent on having this baby, he decides that he has no choice but to be a dad - at first he ignores this kid, i mean, he is a busy man after all and he never wanted this child in the first place - but this kid follows him EVERYWHERE, and he just cant help but adore the little guy - "ah, it was inevitable really, zhe little scamp just vouldn't leave me alone!" "you know you're allowed to love our kid, right?"

Sniper: - has never wanted kids, it wasn't you, really, he just didn't find them practical - i mean, he lives in a van?? where would you even fit a kid? and surely it wouldn't be healthy to raise one in that sort of environment - he sort of supposes that seeing you holding your baby would be cute, and he wouldn't mind having a little family someday - when you break the news to him, you look visually nervous - shaking, eyes wet and red, probably from crying before you even told him, it breaks his heart seeing you this way - when you finally ask what you should do, despite all common sense, he tells you that he wants to keep the baby - your reaction was all worth it to him - you immediately plan to upsize, looking for a small house together and moving in shortly before the baby is born - he fully comes around to the idea of a child after meeting his own

Spy: - the thought of having a kid turns him off, he is far too emotionally unavailable as it is - you know about scout, and you know the immense guilt and pain spy felt after abandoning him - so when you tell him that you're pregnant, he calmly asks you what you are going to do - he won't talk you out of having the baby, but he will not be active in his child's life whatsoever - you bet that he will, and so, he takes you up on that bet - he has no intent on leaving you despite not wanting this kid, if anything the idea of proving you wrong amuses him more - then, when you aren't around, he spends time with the kid, clothes it, feeds it, plays with it - and when you come home and see them together, it's safe to say he had lost the bet

#tf2 #ask #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 imagines #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #tf2 fluff #fluff #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 headcanons #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #jermer10

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darlingofvalyria · 1 year

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❝—Aemond, just shove your fist up my skirt!❞

part 02 | baby, all you gotta do is trust me

chapter summary:

[ Cregan is a menace in bed (sexily), Aemond is a menace on social media (derogatory), Helaena is a menace (lovingly). ]

[ 4,715 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— smutty beginnings, a bit angsty, mostly fluff - nsfw: p & v sex, orgasm denial, degradation kink, mating press - lemme just introduce you to firefighter!cregan stark ahe - toxic alysmond but both of them are at fault, fwb situations, fake dating, slow-ish burn - sad sack aemy is a pathetic meow meow - viserys i has a spank kink, no i will not elaborate further - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— it's entirely my fault, i know. i made cregan too hot. aemond might be a bit op w/ his relationship with reader, but he & her have a comfortable past...soz. comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

There's this thing that Cregan does with his hips.

It's always that sweet spot when your legs are either over his shoulders or haphazardly splayed against his waist, wide open as he drilled into you like a miner trying to find gold (and he would argue that in fact, your orgasms are gold to him)—

There's that moment when he feels you clenching, when you're so close to the precipice of seeing heaven that the motherfucker of the North slows down, sweat-slicked and breathing hard, he slows down enough at the haze of you reaching orgasm where he just.

Produces waves across his body, keeping a slow, toe-curling momentum with his hips, body-waving his dick in and out of you in a slow but purposeful movement— and he's smirking down atyou're fucked out state growing irritated doing something for him.

And before you're truly out of that orgasmic state, about to curse his entire bloodline of ruined orgasms forever or push him off his own godsdamned bed and break his stupidly good penis, he's bracing himself against the side of your head, laughing— not meanly, just amused, the asshole —and asks, almost like he's just asking you for the weather, "Does the pretty little slut want to cum?"

And he's not really asking, because he's grasped your thighs, shoving you into a mating press, and having you see stars in seconds.

"You think my neighbours called 911?" he muses, fixing his hair while in front of the floor length mirror in his room as you lounge about lazily on his bed, already washed and dressed for your own shift at Meleys, sans your pants. That's still in the living room from where Cregan yanked it.

"Hm?" you ask idly, not really focused on the conversation as you scrolled through IG, rolling your eyes at Aegon's post; Hel's big brother was in Ibiza getting sun-tanned in the morning (as much as his pale as fuck skin could tan) and getting it down at clubs at night, liking it nevertheless.

"Your scream at the end there was so loud, I'm pretty sure you broke Mrs. Beesbury out of her coma." You look up at Cregan's menace of a grin, playful and goofy in his tight shirt and thick work pants for his shift at the fire station. "I might be expecting five jars of honey from Mr. Beesbury as thanks."

You roll your eyes at him, laughing. He always got like this post-orgasm; loose and goofy and prone to making the dumbest jokes. It's cute, and on a good day, it does it for you.

It's not like you don't find Cregan attractive. It's how you got into this FWB situation with him in the first place; the dark hair, the scruff on his face, the firefighter bod— and by the Seven, what. A. Bod — when he and his co-workers stumbled into Meleys two months back, seeing your former high school crush aged up and hot had you on your knees for him in the back alley faster than he can hold you from the roots of your hair and grunt.

On a good day, it's easy to see getting past the easy arrangement of sending emojis to alert you wanna get dicked down and him sending a tongue and a heart, sending memes just for the hell of it at random parts of the day— breaking the easy friendship, the nice arrangement, and see where it gets you two, with Stark. On a good day, you can be submerge in the what-if, cute couple-y scenarios and giggle.

But despite the orgasm that could shatter a septa's vows quicker than you can say 'Oh holy Mother', your good day was tentative, broken with a click.

Aemond had made his first social media post since breaking up (the latest one) with Alys.

A darkened bathroom with explicit, orange-glowed lights that covered most of his person but not the slick show of water, freshly showered, against his torso, his chest, his abs. Droplets clung in places one would imagine licking him all over.

You know that bathroom to be the one in his high class gym, one of his favourite places. Since the toxic cycle with Alys started, he frequented it more. Aemond Targaryen was a man of routines and sharp o'clocks, so you know this isn't particularly off-key for him. But the posing (mostly) completely bare with water on his wiry muscles?

"Oh, this whore." You can't help it, as much as it irritated you— because it is clearly a means to get it across that he is newly single without actually saying anything, you can just imagine his DMs firing up with notifs — you couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity.

Aemond Targaryen. Publicly posting a thirstrap.

As public as his social media can get, it's a private account with less than 200 people.

A call rings in your phone, Helaena's face flashing, and you're still giggling when she half-shrieks, "DID YOU SEE HIS IG STORY OH MY GOD."

Your gaze meets Cregan, his bushy, dark eyebrows firing upward upon being able to hear Hel's voice while you winced. You put her on speaker as Cregan giddily comes closer to the phone.

"Good evening to you too, Helaena," you say warmly, giving Cregan's arm a light kick, mouthing, 'Don't you have work?'

Stark had the audacity to shush you, pressing a finger against his lips. You mouth, 'Gossip.' In a mature response, he stuck his tongue out.

Truly a wonder that not twenty minutes ago, this man had you keening over an orgasm.

Helaena continues on, "— I've had enough of this. I already have one slutty brother, I cannot have another one. There can only be two sluts in this family and no more. And that backlit? Seven hells, the whorishness."

"Hel, babe, you are not a slut." You meet eyes with Cregan who waggles his eyebrows, pursing his lips in an air kiss. "Trust me."

Hel snorts. "I know that, I meant my father. The whore of Babylon got nothing on Viserys first of his name, spank king extraordinaire."

If you could simultaneously choke on air and saliva, you would. "Helaena Targaryen!"

Cregan smacked his entire face down on his bed and ate his covers to muffle his laughter, his body shuddering as he did his best. His ass did look good in this view.

"What? Stranger may have mercy on me, but I tell you, before he died and before their marriage imploded, and at times traumatically problematic, they sure did get it freaky when they could. They gave it a good run and traumatised me in the process. I shouldn't have insisted my room was that close to them, maybe I would have ended up being an upstanding citizen of the community."

Cregan flips up, giggles spilling him as he muffled it with his hands. You kicked him again, trying to keep him away from your phone lest Hel figure out where you were again.

"Helaena, my love, compared to your brothers, you are such an upstanding person of the citizenry, the mayor should be giving you an award at this point."

"Right? Maiden have mercy, how busy do you think your shift is going to be tonight?"

You bit your lip guiltily while Cregan smirked, standing up as he finished lacing his boots. Hel thought you had gone straight to work, making up excuses about trying out a new recipe for next month. "Um. Not sure? Probably not by much, it's a weekday."

You don't lie, not really. Cregan mouths 'liar' and throw a pillow at him.

"Good, I'll send Aemond to you tonight. I already told him yesterday and he kind of just made a noncommittal hum— praise hands for another traumatised child of Alicent Hightower who has his own brand of communications issues —" You can just see Helaena's hard eye roll, and you massaged your lips to keep your laughter. The first time you met Hel, you never would have thought she slapped-back self-deprecating jokes out of her pockets faster than you can think a response to the last one. She was sweet, kind, a floral, bohemian girl with her pastel lavender pants and daisy flower clips.

And then you met her, vibed, and there was a dark funny humour to Helaena Targaryen that you always fought just bursting out laughter at the most inopportune of moments.

As sweet and floaty as she appeared, she was a menace.

"— anyway, Mr. Social Whore is going there later tonight, I made him promise. I said if you don't tell me he didn't come, I'm posting every photo I have of him from his naked baby pics to pre-pubescent Teen Teeny-Weeny Aemond, I do not care."

You whistle. "Damn, Hel, okay, I'll tell you when he comes."

"Good. OPLAN Get Aemond Out of This Bad Track Before He Fully Becomes Aegon 2.0 has now commenced. I love my brothers, I truly do, but I can only handle one Aegon at a time. I cannot be scrolling through social media in fear for my life times two, bestie, I refuse." Hel's voice pitches. "I'll talk to you later, bye, babe."

"Bye, Hel!"

Before you could put the phone down, she calls out, teasing, "BYE CREGAN!"

Silence. Then Cregan laughs, calling out, "Bye, Hel!"

The last thing either of you heard is her tinkling giggle before she drops the call.

"Fuck," you mutter, call finished.

Cregan wolf-whistles. "She's good."

You throw another pillow. "It's because you kept giggling like a schoolgirl!"

"Excuse me, that was a manly schoolgirl giggle, I'll have you know." He picks up his keys, winking. "Come on, I'll drop you off at the bar before I pole dance the night away to my job."

You cracked, snorting through the mental image of Cregan Stark, Lead Firefighter of the Ice Wolves Division, shaking his ass on the pole. You pad to the living room. "I'll give you a dollar for your troubles."

"Cheap ass!" he shouts after you.

Aemond arrives two hours into your shift, a little awkward— no doubt remembering your silent judgment of him the morning of his post-break up affair as that has also been the last interaction you've had with him before this, almost a week ago, and now here, meeting you at the insistence (and plotting) of his sister.

Your eyes meet ice water blue. He freezes, then straightens up, giving you a shrewd tilt forward. A nod. It's jerky, mechanical. You roll your eyes, mouth twitching, before you motion him over.

You are already making his favoured drink starter, Sazerac, when he slides into an empty seat on the bar. Your back is to him, refusing anymore interaction, and you know the usual comfort he finds in the eased silence you provide is nonexistent.

Out of all of Helaena's brothers, you've always liked Aemond the most. You teased him it was because the others are Aegon, duh, and Daeron, still in high school and never really around you "old people", but it's also because it's so easy to be around Aemond. When Helaena introduced you to the tall, lithe man who hummed politely at his sister's introduction of you, you found him intriguing.

It's not just the scarred eye, or the pretty, almost marble-statue visage (because by gods, seriously. The Mother took her sweet, loving time crafting the fourth Targaryen, bloody hell— like those cheekbones? With that cupid's bow lip? Okay, Mother, you have your favourites, we get it), or that he tended to keep himself in the background, let everyone else stretch into the conversation.

He often dipped in and out of the social pool like a mirage; a trick of the eye. A nod, a hum— almost, always an answer to someone else's direct question or someone— usually Aegon — dragging him into the conversation with an anecdote needing an input, not matter how inane.

And it intrigued you.

You took yourself and your drink of choice at the time— a Shirley Temple — and sat right beside him. He looked up at you, that one eye of violet widening slightly because you had just. Plopped beside him, thighs touching, before he smoothens out his expression, shifting at your direct eye contact and small smile.

"Can I... help you?" he finally asks, thoroughly waylaid but trying not to appear so.

"The scar." You nodded to his face as he froze. "Tell me about it."

His face had been so controlled, so guarded, when he tersely said, "My sister didn't tell you?"

"Nope. It's not something for her to tell me, isn't it? It's a personal thing. Most scars are." You shrugged. "Even if they aren't, I'd prefer if you tell me. It's your body. Your body your story."

He stared at you for a quarter of a minute before he asked, "Are you drunk?"

"No, why?"

"You're too... forward."

You smirked. "I've been told. So are you telling me or nah, pretty boy?"

And he stared at you for a minute longer, or two, or three— the stare flickers to emotions so fast; shock, confusion, flatter, his own intrigue — before he told you about a stupid fight between children, about a stupid reason par another, and though his words had been concise, obviously keeping a hell of a lot more between vowels and tightened jaw, you don't press him. You let him talk.

At the end, you said, "Badass. Definitely less of a lame reason than what I was imagining, but 9/10 story. Your voice really sold most of it. It's good for telling stories."

In his brain, you could just see the click when his eyes flicked to his sister and back to you. Ah, so that's how they're friends. And he hums, truly, more than anything, stumped by you. And you smiled.

"You're definitely going to be my favourite Targaryen Brother."

It's no wonder then, that you two had gotten close. You had forced a friendship out of him, and the very unattached guy to literally anything new— suspicious of offerings, angry at pity, wary of kindness — had taken into it with a white flag.

So when the whole Alys situation happened, things shifted.

"Sazerac," you announce finally, placing the drink in front of him. He thanks you with a quiet hum, having stopped fidgeting now that you've acknowledged his existence. You raise your eyebrow as his sips turns to gulp, crossing your arms.

Just because you had promised Hel you were going to help him, doesn't mean you were going to make it easy for him. He knows you're pissed; despite the calm structure he had composed himself in, you can see the twitch in his fingers, the way his eye turned away from you the moment you refused to project your normal, warm aura with him.

He settles his drink down, watching the rim of the glass for a minute before he speaks, low and steady. "You're angry with me."

You snort softly. "Wonder why you think so?"

He sighs. "I didn't mean to. To let it get this... messy." He winces at the word, hating it.

You sigh. "Aemy." He comes alive at the familiar nickname, sitting straighter, a relief on the edge of a cliff. "Honestly, I don't give a shit. You want to be trapped in this mess? You don't want to listen to other people tellign you, 'hey dude, maybe no?'"

He winces, remembering the third time he and Alys had broken up. The police car, Aegon vomitting, Hel crying. It makes you roll your eyes.

"Sure, have at it. Have fun, in fact. There's only so much sympathy I can give you for seeking out the problem that you know is a problem before I get tired. Before I stop giving a shit, because there's someone else I love that is starting to get hurt by it. I can only love you enough as much as you are willing to help yourself." Your eyes then narrow, half-glaring into him. "But what I'm truly getting angry about is how much this is affecting Helaena."

"I understand." He sighs again, calling your name but you raise a hand.

"Hold on, I have a bone to pick with you."

"Okay."

You look at him. A second. He waits. And waits.

He speaks up. "Yes?"

You sigh. It's hard to stay mad at him, you've always found so. "I don't know. I had paragraphs to say to you in front of a mirror, but now that it's you I'm looking at, everything just went away." Under your breath, you mutter, "stupid pathetic meow, meow face."

His mouth twitch. Ah. The familiar Targaryen smugness. Pinch Cocky Aemond is back. "Did my face distract you too much, ñuha riña my lady?"

You roll your eyes, unable to hide your own smile. If you called him Aemy, he called you the High Valyrian, his ancestral tongue, my lady. To tease, to establish comfort. You've always liked this better, being closer to Aemond than despising him for his stupid choices and big feelings he has a hard time unraveling, so he makes said stupid choices.

It's ease, it's familiarity, and you both fall into a high step.

"Okay, nerd, so what did Hel—" A customer calls you. "—One sec. Sorry about that, what can I get you? Ooh, nice choice, alright give me a minute." As you pulled a measuring cup and gin, you nod back to Aemond. "What did Hel tell you we're doing exactly?"

"That you're helping me... with Alys." A hesitance. "I know you don't like her—"

"— whoa, hold up, Aemy, I like her. I like her very much. I think she's a bad bitch, absolutely sexy, and clearly, she has good tastes which I respect her for." He had the good graces to blush, still sort of unused by the compliments you so freely give him. "What I don't like is how your relationship with her— here, hey, you're welcome! — has evolved. You were so good with each other, Aemy. And then..."

You mimic a sound of a crash and burn, and a tiny person screaming. He huffs out a laugh before sobering.

"I know." He sighs. "I don't... I don't understand it myself. There's a part of me that recognises I should walk away. And then there's another part that is just... it's Alys."

His palms, open and upturned, falls on the counter. Pensive. Begging. A confused, wanting penitent looking up at a god asking for direction. "I've loved her for so long." His voice quiets, like the words are sacred.

"I've loved her for so long," he repeats as if the words have worn itself out on his tongue, "it's hard to see past her. Ñuha riña, she has always been my future. It's all her. I don't know anything else outside of her."

You pour an Arbor Gold in a stemmed glass and pushes it to him. It's his favourite drink and he smiles at you, at the care, at the memories.

"I understand that," you say carefully. "And I already promised Hel I'd do it, whatever you need of me, to make her see you. But you should know that I'm doing this more for her than for you because... Aems, I believe you deserve so much more. A love that's exciting without it being harmful. A love that's pretty, as easy as breathing. One that doesn't hurt at the edges and pinches like a barbed wire."

"Is that possible for me?" he asks ironically, trying for a joke but you catch that lilt at the end. At that exhale. So much of his history had been broached by pain, borne from it. There are injuries that run so deep, they continue to bleed.

"Honestly?"

He places the wineglass down. "Yes."

You smile. "Yes."

You don't know if he believes you, or if he just indulges in your starry-eyed view of his future, but he smiles nevertheless, as best as he can and murmurs a gratitude.

It's pacifying, insecurity. You let it go for now because there's nothing you can say to a person truly down to trust your words.

"You're going to do this, then?" he asks. "For Alys and I?"

You shake your head. "I'm doing this for Hel and no chores for a month." And you, to show you that there's more past a future that you and I both know doesn't exist anymore. That if you prolong it, ignore how deep the barbed wire has gotten into your skin, it'll be too hard to untangle it when you realised you've bled out enough.

So will you just wear the pain proudly after that?

You shake another order in place, pulling ice and mint. You raise an eyebrow. "I've always known I was going to help. Are you willing to do this? Honestly Aemy, this can go two ways. One, she'll realise losing you is the worst thing that can ever happen— truly losing you to someone else, or two, she thinks you're truly moving on from her. And that's assuming she even thinks it's real, like I mean come on, it's me and you."

He arches a perfect silver eyebrow. You had already asked him if he gets his eyebrows done, and apart from Helaena messing with him back in high school, has been all natural. You think he's lying.

"And what is me and you?"

"Aemy, come on. I'm your sister's best friend. We're like... I dunno, family? She's always known that."

"Doesn't mean she's never felt jealous of you," he hums, swirling his wine with pinch fingers. It's elegant. Entrancing. The red liquid swirls and there are knots and strain in his hand, going through his arm.

And despite the bags under his eye, he still looks so good. Silvery blond hair wrapped in a low half updo, the shirt that hid nothing of his muscled chest.

His words sink in, breaking you from the hypnotizing reverie of looking at a marbled statue. "What? She felt jealous of me?"

He smiles gently, a little bit cockily. "Ñuha riña. Of course she did. Just because she understood your place in my life, in Hel's, doesn't erase the fact that you're gorgeous and we get along well. She liked you, truly, but she isn't blind. It's nothing that you've done, even she knew that. You're just too perfect."

You blink at him, unable to stop yourself from blushing. He chuckles meanly.

"Shut up."

He exhales a laugh. "I didn't say anything!"

"You know what you did." You give him the stink eye before you serve two more customers, thanking at a pretty hefty tip from one of your regulars, bidding him goodnight as he left. It is a slow night, you didn't lie to Helaena.

You almost don't catch Aemond murmuring, "I've missed this. I've missed you. I never like it when you're pissed at me."

"Good," you joke. "So you can watch yourself better. But yeah, I've missed you too. So how are we doing this?"

"I thought you had an idea, having agreed to Hel's plan before I even knew there was a plan."

You roll your eyes. "Well, I've had a few ideas here and there... it's more your comfort I'm worried about."

He frowns, pouty lips pursing. "My comfort?"

You place your palms behind the bar and hitch yourself up by your physical strength. He leans forward, confused still. You smirk. "Well, Aemy, I'm wearing a skirt."

"I... I don't know what that means, ñuha riña." He blinks his one good eye. "Nice skirt? You look pretty."

You force a pout instead of getting flustered by the compliment out of the blue. "I forgot you weren't all that popular in high school."

"No need for insults," he deadpans.

You laugh. "We're going to make Alys jealous, right? It'll be too much to hard launch my new status of existence in your life when you just broke up... but... if we can allude, at least..."

"I-" His frown deepens, the skin on his other eye, the scar, pinches as you see his mind whirr and whirr where your mind was reaching. "I'm still confused."

"Gods, alright, I'll just show you."

"Dude, bro, just put your hand under my skirt—"

"Ñuha riña—"

"Yeah, you know what, godsfuckingdamnit, if I alienate you that bad just shove your fist up my skirt, yes, Aemond, just shove your fist up my skirt!"

He calls your name, tips of his ears beet red, as a few patrons turn to you two, bewildered and a little amused. You wave at them but you sigh noisily at him. You're sat beside him on the counter, your phone on one hand with the camera app open, and you're glaring at him.

"Are you seriously telling me you've never placed your hand on Alys' thigh?"

"Of course I have!" He lets out a strangled sigh and groan.

"What's the difference?"

"I've never done it so publicly," he explains as calmly as possible, as if he's talking to a child. "And with the idea of posting it for everyone else to ogle. I've always just done it... under a table. Or. On her knee..."

"You're blushing so hard, you look like a tomato?" You snort. "I'm your fake Alys now, and we're soft launching an intimate relationship. This is basic."

"You're not my fake Alys. You're not my fake anytihng and you're not Alys." he says seriously, frown sharpening into a point before he exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can't it just be my hand over yours?"

You frown, forgoing the uncomfortable twinge from not my anything and not Alys. "Is this uncomfortable for you? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"It's not that, never that." He purses his lip. "It's the opposite. I don't want to make you uncomfortable with my touch."

"Aemy," you say softly, smiling slightly. "I am giving you permission. Wouldn't have suggested it otherwise. And you touching me has never made me uncomfortable. Now, come on. Hand on my thigh, pretty boy, so I can take this pic and get the ball rolling."

There's a second more of restraint, of holding back, and before you sigh and suggest something else— maybe he is truly uncomfortable with you, with you not being anything to him, and not being Alys, but is too polite to say anything — he places his palm, warm and heavy, against your exposed thigh.

It's a... new sensation. You've held hands with Aemond before, smacked it a few times even, but it's different when it's on a more... well, when it's not on a non intimate area of your body. New skin, new nerve endings to his familiar warmth and crease.

It makes you swallow how big his hand is compared to your whole ass thigh. Thumb to pinky and he nearly swallows the gaps.

He really has pretty hands. Knotted veins twisting upward to muscled arms.

Both of you nestle in the quiet, just staring at his hand over your thigh.

"Okay," he says, voice even. He's taller than you, always taller even when you're both sat down, and he's closer to the top of your head at this distance, his breath flutters against your hair. "What now?"

"I... take the picture." You blink, shaking your head slightly, as you take his drink and add your hand within the frame so it looks like you mean to take a photo of your drink and not the glaringly obvious hand on your thigh, before you you angle it. You take one, two, three. A few different angles before you feel you've got a few nice ones. "Okay, done."

It feels cold when he takes his hand away, giving your thigh a soft tap before it's back on the counter. He hums.

You get back on the work, choosing one and posting it promptly on your stories. You place Meleys' location and a kiss mark emoji before you post it.

"It does look intimate," Aemond hums, observing the story from his own phone. "But why did you post it on your account and not mine?"

"She's your ex, Aemy," you say, hopping off the chair and moving back behind the counter. The world re-orbits. Everyone back in their positions, the lines clear. The planets move in their normal trajectory again.

"She'll know it's your hand. And if we post it on mine, it has more of an impact, don't you think? We're friends on IG. She sees it on my stories, a man's hand on her thigh, in a background that's no doubt a bar. The hand is sorta familiar. And you posted that slutty mirror pic earlier tonight."

He blushes, you smirk. Planets and moons orbit back, their pace slow, their lightyears fast. Best friend's sister. Sister's best friend.

"If she doesn't recognise your hand at first, your story will prompt it on her brain. It's not a hard connection, you've been together for years. It's a girl thing. An exes thing. Bingo bango, the brain is running. Surely it isn't Aemond's hand? Even if it is... is it truly romantic?"

He exhales. "You're... kind of an evil genius."

"Just kind of? Damn." And you smile because he laughs, the sound spreading warmth across your chest.

Yeah, this is better. It always feels good when you and Aemond are on the same team, when you're not mad at him and vice versa, no matter how stupid the reason.

Saturn rings snap, black holes sink and swim in galaxies so far, far away.

You put your phone on DND as soon as the first five notifs pop up, prompting a barrage of other notifications. When you took a glance at it, it's all a varying degree of 'WHAT THE FUCK', 'WHO THE FUCK', and 'GO GET THAT DICK, GIRL OMG!!'

Only Helaena's message matters, and it brings a smile on your lips.

'Noice'.

Another ping.

'Also— what a bunch of harlots'.

You show it to Aemond and both of you burst in stupid laughter.

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#aemond angst #cregan stark x reader #best friend's brother!aemond #aemond fluff #cregan smut #hotd fluff #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #hotd x you #hotd smut #cregan stark x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#aemond fanfiction #aemond crack #aemond targaryen x reader #tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ

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bits-and-babs · 1 year

Text

✰ 𝐖𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐏 — 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 ‘𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓’ 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

↳ summary: prompt: "Call me that again" — A solo op takes you away from 141 and away from Ghost. You're both at your wits end.

↳ pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x f!Reader (Delta)

↳ [1k] content: 18+ MDNI. Coms sex (I knowww, how original), inevitable dirty talk, masturbation, reference to size kink, a little dom-sub vibes, a little twist at the end because I can’t help myself.

ghost masterlist I| main masterlist |I join taglist

The coms crepitates loudly, bleeding into the silence of the safehouse room and ringing in your ears as you await that familiar, soothing voice that consoled your adrenaline-whipped body. Running for hours, you'd launched yourself towards the sanctuary of the safehouse once you finished your solo reconnaissance mission. Offering to work this mission single-handedly, you're separated by your 141 colleagues. You aren't sure if Vargas is alive or if Soap has thrown himself into the face of danger once again, but a dogmatic conviction grips your mind that Ghost is safe. He's always safe.

Crackling, distorted sounds shock you from your disassociation, grabbing your heart and squeezing its chambers so hard you're sure it wheezes beneath the pressure. It throbs, the possible presence of your Commanding Officer on the end of the coms like a defibrillator, sparking it back to life.

"Simon?" Your voice is hoarse as you call for him, your almost embarrassing desperation leaking into your tone of voice despite your best effort to portray nonchalance.

"Delta."

His gruff Mancunian accent distorts through the headphones placed over your ears, distance scrambling the soundwaves. A rush of oxygen exhaled through your nose no doubt sends a burst of unpleasant sound through Ghost's eardrums-- but he doesn't complain.

"I wondered if you were ever going to contact me," you whisper, closing your eyes and finally allowing yourself to relax into the sofa at the sound of Simon's voice. "Was beginning to think you'd had trouble."

"The only trouble I have is a 6'2'" Scotsman that fucks my eardrums with his god-awful jokes," Simon grumbles to himself, the sound of him settling onto a cot sneaking its way into the mic in the form of straining springs. "His codename is trouble."

"Funny, I thought it was Soap," you muse, and can't help but grin at the exasperated sigh that sounds at the end of the line.

"Better start cleanin' up his act if he wants to keep it."

Silence creeps between you both, laden with a heavy longing that crushes your chest. Of course, you'd never admit to missing him, but something about the way your heart seizes just at his mere presence, even from miles away, tells you that you're yearning. Aching for something as simple as laying eyes on him.

"Delta."

His voice drips like molasses down your spine, inching its way down to your abdomen and swirling warmth between your legs. There's a hint of suggestion in his tone, the kind he'll offer on late paperwork shifts to relieve some tensions.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley is dangerous. He doesn't give you butterflies— he detonates atomic bombs in your stomach. Obliterates any sense of propriety you have and compels you into a jittery, timid mess. It's something only Simon can do, and it's mortifying.

"Yes?" You don't mean for it to come out the way it does, drawn out and breathless. He knows. He knows his voice alone has put you right where he wants you.

"Been thinkin' of you."

Swallowing thickly, you focus on the growing arousal blistering between your thighs. You're sure they're slick already, arousal triggered by the conversation's shift in tone.

"Yeah?" You whisper, the single syllable catching in your throat like it's a honey trap.

"Been thinkin' about how well you take my cock, love." The sudden crassness makes your heart lurch against your sternum, your hand diving beneath your waistband to start touching yourself to the sound of his voice, "Your little cunt stretches so good around me, fuckin' squeezes me just right."

You gasp as your print brushes your already throbbing clit, the buzzing arousal arcing up your spine and lifting it from the sofa. A quiet, gravelly hum sounds at the end of the coms, followed by the clinking of a belt as Ghost sheds the clothes from his lower body.

"Filthy girl," he muses, listening to your sharp inhalation, "I've barely started talking, and you're already playin' with your clit. Couldn't even wait for my order. Is it throbbing for me, love?"

"Y-Yes-" you whimper, rocking your hips up to meet your touch. Waves of bliss drag from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, eyes rolling back as Simon groans.

"I bet it is. You gonna use your fingers for me? Go on," Simon urges. He barely has to ask, though; you're already sinking your fingers into your entrance, moaning his name.

"Ah-Ah," Ghost scolds you gently, his voice strained, "What did you call me?"

"S-Sorry, Lieutenant," you whine softly, eyelids fluttering when you push your fingers against something devastating. You rock your hips again, grinding your clit against the heel of your palm.

"That's right," Simon growls, breath hitching as the quiet sounds of him working his cock in his fist filter into the mic from the background. "That's what you fuckin' call me. Go on, call me that again."

"Yes, Lieutenant Riley."

"Ugh- fuck," Ghost groans out, and it rattles in his chest. He sounds fucked, as desperate as you are to sink his cock into your wet heat. It's been too long; you've almost forgotten the stretch.

"You workin' that clit how you like it?" Ghost asks, a little breathless now as he quickens the pace of his fist to match the speed at which your orgasm approaches. It's been too long.

"Y-Yes, Lieutenant- Oh fuck-"

"Gonna cum already?" A chuckle breaks through Ghost's huffed breath, amused by your inability to last much longer than a few minutes after only a couple of weeks separated. "C'mon, darlin', give it to me, nice and loud—"

✰

Hanging your head between your shoulders, you try not to mind the heat burning in your cheeks as Price finally stops the recording playing loudly from his laptop. Mercifully, he pauses just before you truly amp up the volume of your whimpers as you cum.

"Did you even stop to think how this could affect the mission if the targets got ahold of these coms?" Price's eyes flit between you, frustration evident by the creases in his t-zone.

"Would'a distracted the enemy," Ghost points out like he's serious.

"Shut up, Ghost."

"Yes, Sir."

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auspicioustidings · 10 months

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The Revelation

Summary: You are pretty happy with the cult you have made for yourself, but when two newcomers show up you can't help but think how far you could go with this.

(this is a one-shot, I stg if your only comment on this is to say 'part 2' I will feed you to the tomato plants! If you like it and have brain worms about it by all means send those to me and we can bounce ideas around)

Words: 6.6k

CWs: Cult shit, dubcon (everyone is manipulating each other here), light petplay (hope you're proud of yourself Bo I am incapable of writing Ghoap without Johnny being a puppy now), smut, murder, slight allusion to cannibalism (in a round about way, just putting it here for safety), Catholicism

The Death of God happened on a gloomy Thursday afternoon. One moment he had been mowing the lawn and the next thing he had an epiphany about hating his suburban life, hating his suburban wife, hating the 2 kids and hating the lawnmower he had spent his last bonus on.

The Revelation happened on a sunny Friday morning when you had popped up on his tiktok feed and told him that you understood him, that you were there for him. He had made his way to the commune, telling his wife it was just a visit to find himself. And he did. Which of course meant he never came home.

Truly you would consider yourself some what of a miracle working taking in this portly, charisma void of a businessman and turning him into some semblance of interesting. Well as interesting as anyone in this little slice of heaven. He had a fascination with growing tomatoes now. Good for him.

The hundreds of little deaths of God had been great for business. When someone had a crisis, when someone thought they were broken, when someone just couldn't fucking take it anymore, that's when they were so desperate to believe in something that you could make them happy with a smile and a kind word every so often. You could keep them happy (well, what they believed was happy and wasn't that all that mattered?) by keeping them a little tired, a little hungry and occasionally a little high. Good for the soul really, that's what you always said.

Surely you deserved to live on a steady diet of champagne, strawberries and decadence for all the good work you did. They all understood how difficult it was to be you. And despite your trials weren't you still so lovely to them? Even when they acted out you were gentle in your reminders that they needed fixing, that you were only ever there to help, that their friends and families would try and convince them otherwise because they didn't understand what it was to be broken. You opened your arms to them always, it was in their nature to err and in yours to forgive.

Honestly you could keep this up for the rest of your life. A small group of people devoted to you, happy in their worship and happy in their toil. No violence needed to keep them compliant, just a soft touch and the occasional psychological torture as necessary. You had no aspirations to go beyond this, you had it good. No need for a death cult or to make yourself an actual God to them. You already had your champagne and strawberries after all, life was good.

–

They were big, these two new men to your little oasis. It would be a tricky thing to half starve them you thought, but then it would also be a shame to have them lose all that bulk that you found you quite enjoyed looking at. Still, it was important for enlightenment and all that.

So you gave them a steady supply of soft smiles and reassuring touches, a diet of “yes this is an eco-living commune!” and “oh I never thought anyone would want to join me out here, I just got very lucky that so many wonderful people share the same morals.” They went easy of course, ex-military, used to structure and relying on someone above them to do the thinking. Perfect for you really, just two attack dogs that were impeccably trained.

They neglected to tell you that they hadn't been regular military, that they had been high ranked special operators in an elite task force. That would have made you suspicious after all and it was better you thought them stupid. Johnny had seen you on tiktok and wanted you and Simon never denied his boy anything, so here they were, playing you completely into their hands.

First it was getting themselves special privileges, unlimited access to food, a home right next to yours, full evenings of rest. Hadn't been hard to make you think it was your idea.

“Och it's alright lass, I ken we're naw military anymore. Dinnae need tae be a lean, mean, killing machine oot here.”

“Of course not Johnny, I'd hope you think you're very safe here.”

“Aye, feel safe with you. Ye look after us. Wish ye would let us look after you more!”

“I don't need anymore than I already have, but it's so wonderful of you to say, truly.”

Then a few days later when there had been time for that little declaration to settle in.

“Simon! How are you, I didn't see you yesterday.”

“Sorry, pulled my shoulder something awful. Felt like a right git not being able to do work properly.”

“Oh that's terrible, how did you pull it?”

“Ah just lack of training is all. Too used to being strong, retirement doesn't really lend itself to that.”

“You're still plenty strong!”

“I hope so. Some of the things I hear about what people's families think of you… if it ever came down to it, I want you to know I'd protect you with my life. Both me and Johnny would, strong or not.”

You had really been given an absolute gift here. That was something that had been making you a little paranoid. If family members escalated to violence there was really nothing you could do. You were a lover (here meaning awful con artist but that was just semantics) not a fighter. And now there was a solution right in your lap.

“How would you and Johnny feel about being security then? I'd hate to think we'd ever need it of course, but it would make people feel safer. Some of their families are terrible people I'm afraid, I don't want anyone to get hurt because someone tries something violent” you said gently, of course concerned for these innocent people being viciously abused by their awful families (these brainwashed people being taken by their loved ones to recover and live meaningful lives again, lives which did not involved maintaining your champagne and strawberry habit).

“If you ask us of course we'd never say no, it's just… would it be ok to have an hour a day to train? It's such an honour to protect this place, not looking to half arse it.”

“Of course! Come to my house with Johnny after supper and we can discuss some accommodations for your new roles.”

–

“How does that sound?” you asked, soft as silk.

You knew how it sounded, it sounded like you were the damn second coming. Giving them unrestricted food and sleep, telling them you'd have a house for them built right by your side? You knew it was working by how Johnny's eyes had went big and wet, projecting puppy-like adoration. And Simon? Oh that big, delicious man stood and walked over to you so he could kneel at your feet. Fuck you had never felt better about yourself.

“We don't deserve so much of your consideration. I-” he said, the first time you had heard him struggle to get words out through his emotion. “I want to thank you properly.”

He said it like it was a revelation and it peaked your interest. You could have squealed with delight when his cheek leant against your knee, your dress pushed by his face to let skin meet skin, eyes locked with yours as he turned to kiss your flesh. You hadn't fucked any of your followers, too messy. But these weren't regular followers anymore right? No, these were special followers. And it had been so long and he was looking at you like he was desperate to give you any pleasure he could.

Oh Simon was desperate all right, had been thinking about getting you sloppy and pathetic for him since Johnny had excitedly shown him that bloody video of you acting like an innocent little lamb. He wanted to just barrel in, bend you over and claim you right away. It was Johnny who insisted it would be more fun to trick you, who had whined like a bitch about it until he got his way. Bloody MacTavish. He really needed to train those puppy dog eyes right out of the boy. Those had got him to indulge in all sort of risks already. Nearly fucked the whole plan right up when you had come dangerously close to catching him balls deep in Johnny in your bed, absolutely ruining him as per his own puppy dog eyed request.

For his part Johnny was positively giddy. He might give away the game if he really got to watch Simon taste you. Would he play gently with you? Oh my God would he pretend he was inexperienced to make you feel superior? Let you think you were guiding him? That might kill him dead. He tried to not fucking salivate and start panting at the thought of it.

“Then thank me properly.”

Fuck the way his eyes lit up at that. This gorgeous man wanted you, he wanted to please you. As a hand squeezed your calf and he started to drag his mouth up your bare leg you felt the sick thrill of wondering how far they would go for you. Already people had given up families, friends, wealth. You had never pushed it beyond, horrified whenever you thought about how delicious it would be if they would die for you, kill for you and so shoving those dark thoughts to the back of your mind.

But you didn't want Simon to die for you. You did want to see how far you could push, how deep his devotion ran. To that end you wove fingers through his hair and pulled him off of your thigh, his eyes flickering from your wet panties sticking to your cunt up to your own eyes in question.

“I want you to kiss Johnny.”

You said it like a woman possessed. Fuck. That's exactly what you wanted. You wanted these big masculine men to fuck against their own desires but do it for you. They were dumb jocks really, probably had never fumbled around with another man before. They'd find it hard, find it wrong. You didn't really consider yourself a bad person before this moment, just a clever one. This was straying into something else, some monstrous part of you that was salivating with the thought of finally being released.

“Will you do that for me?”

You heard a choked sort of noise and looked over to see Johnny hiding his face in his hands. Of course, big Scottish man must be scared of doing such a thing. Or rather having such a thing done to him. You imagined it would be some attack to his sense of self to have a bigger man press a kiss onto him. Fuck maybe he would tear up. Maybe he would fully cry if Simon pushed inside of him. You hoped that God really was dead because if not you were sure They'd have some stern words for you after this.

“Oh I've never…”

Fuuuuuck. Simon's vulnerable eyes darting from Johnny to you were liable to make you cum on the fucking spot. You smiled indulgently down on him, running a hand over his face is a caress.

“You know I only ever do what's best for you don't you? I wouldn't ever ask you to do anything that isn't for the greater good. Do you believe in me Simon?” you said, the years of practice infusing your tone with a cloying sweetness.

“Yes” he replied, barely a breathy whisper of affirmation.

His glazed eyes looked at you with such adoration before he nuzzled his face into your hand and left a kiss there before making his way across to where Johnny was sitting on the sofa, face still hidden in his hands. He went over on his knees, crawled. You pressed your fingers against your throbbing clit, cupping yourself to try and tell your body to calm down because there was so much more to come.

Simon crawled between Johnny’s legs, going up on his knees and grabbing Johnny’s nape to drag his face down. He was whispering something in his ear, maybe trying to settle him, trying to assure him this was what they needed to do for you. Of course had you been aware Simon was hissing at Johnny to keep it together, to stop laughing about how easily you were falling for this, then the whole thing would really have been ruined. Luckily Johnny was still a soldier, Simon still his LT, so when he was ordered to put his game face on he did it. And luckily Johnny was still a good boy, Simon was still his master, so he knew that squeezing at his pup's nape always got that furrow in his brow to relax, got him eager to please and ready to tear up at the first little tease or overstimulation.

It was really destiny that you would be this level of power hungry, this eager to push and see what you could make people do. He had been training Johnny to put all his eager to please energy to good use for years, had turned a feral mutt into a feral mutt with impeccable training. The chance to turn a corrupt fox into a corrupt fox whose only desire was to be stroked and pampered was making him painfully hard. Johnny had been right, tricking you was far more delicious than just forcing you into it.

When he moved Johnny’s hands from his face it was to reveal a man looking ruined, looking liquid eyed and flushed. Simon mouthed a good boy to him before pressing a kiss to his lips. It was calculatedly shy and tentative and he kept a steadying hand on Johnny’s knee, squeezing when he felt he might lose control and start panting and licking his way into his mouth as he usually tried to do. Simon couldn’t very well punish him right now without giving the game away, so he just had to use the suggestion of a future punishment.

After the first peck you watched a slow and decadent slide into forbidden desire. They got a little bolder with each press of lips, seemed to squirm a bit more with the struggle of it feeling good but wrong. When Simon pulled away and Johnny whined despite himself you slid your hand past your waistband, needing to touch yourself or you’d die.

“You’d like it if Simon used his tongue wouldn’t you Johnny? Would be nice to feel it against yours. It’s important that you two are close isn’t it? To do your jobs well that is.”

Johnny would have agreed with full enthusiasm and pounced Simon to get them both on the floor so he could rut his hips down into the cock he was desperate for, but the hand at his bad knee squeezed again and the spark of pain reminded him of the mission. So instead he looked at you, teary and unsure.

“H-his tongue? I… I’m naw…”

“You’re not what Johnny?”

“It’s wrong.”

“Who told you that?”

You watched him play with the thin chain around his neck, the crucifix falling out of his shirt. Catholic. Oh this must be even more torturous for him. No matter, you had killed plenty of Gods already, you could kill his. Watch guilt eat and eat and eat at him until finally he gave in to the desire. Gave in to you. Let any other divine figure die in favour of a new God.

“Oh Johnny, do you think I would lead you into temptation? It’s ok, I would never make you. If you don’t like it that’s fine, you can both call it a night hm? Security is a tough job, I would never think less of you for not being up to the task. My fault really, I must have mistaken the potential I saw in you.”

He surged forward and shoved his tongue past Simon’s teeth and you moaned deeply, fingers so slippery that getting proper friction on your clit was a challenge now. You did not think you had ever been so wet in your life, feeling slick trickle out of you as they clumsily seemed to fight for dominance, saliva dripping down Johnny’s chin from how much he was trying to follow your instructions, how deep he was trying to pull Simon’s tongue with his into his mouth.

When they next pulled away they both seemed dazed, like they couldn't believe they had just done that. Poor Simon turned to look at your pleadingly, legs widening so you could see he was straining against his pants. He was rock solid from making out with Johnny and you were cumming all at once, hips rolling in time with your fingers as you breathed out instructions with your cunt still clenching in waves.

“Good, so good for me. Want you both to cum, get all of that tension out. Wouldn't ever leave you wanting would I?”

They both looked needy, but the fact that they quietly waited for instructions on how to cum was possibly the most erotic thing you had ever seen.

“It's OK, you can help each other. That's what it's all about here isn't it? Helping those in need in the community, and you're both in need. Jerk your cocks together, it'll be bonding for you to cum together like that.”

They fucking did it. Simon shoved his pants down enough to free the absolute monster of a cock he had and dragged Johnny only his lap on the floor. Johnny's cock was thick as anything and just as hard. Fuck the image of Johnny taking Simon’s cock, taking every hard inch of him in his ass. Crying about how it wouldn't fit, how it was wrong. Clutching his crucifix. You needed to make it happen soon. Maybe you could make Johnny wear a plug, say it was part of training. Get him ready to be fucked by his friend and once superior without him ever realising that's what you were doing.

Their precum was already making the slide of it easier as Simon took the lead, big hand wrapping around both of them and slowly pumping, staring at it in fascination. You were slowly overstimulating your clit, feeling that tension start growing again already.

“Spit on it Johnny.”

He did it without hesitation, his saliva making Simon’s jerking squelch. It didn't take long until Johnny was begging, needing to cum. You didn't even register that it wasn't you he was looking at as he begged, you were too lost in sensation, eyes locked on their cocks rubbing together.

“Go on, cum. Both of you.”

Simon sped his hand and his low grunt (the ‘s’ok pup, cum’ so low you hadn’t heard it over your pleasure) combined with Johnny's drooling and panting sent you spiralling over the edge again as they both shot ropes of sticky cum all over each other.

Fuck. What else could you make people do?

–

Over the next few weeks life got even easier for you. Simon and Johnny were excellent right hands, earning respect from all of your followers and taking on almost all of the tasks you had (which you had made sure were as minimal as possible already, the whole point of this endeavour was to live an easy life).

Simon was careful to make sure to be seen with you, start planting the seeds in people's minds that they were an extension of you. Johnny was rapidly losing patience which made him incredibly satisfying to fuck because he got to beat every single complaint out of him. It was him that wanted to go this route so he was going to finish what he started. It had been a long time since he had seen Johnny get so worked up over anything and he forgot how much he enjoyed him when he was like this, biting at every little bit of bait that Simon left with the express purpose of having an excuse to punish him later for it.

Johnny needed putting down when he got this wound up, at this point Simon had taken him over his knee at least once a day, collared and leashed him most nights, fucked him silly so much that he was constantly aching and plugged to keep ready for a quickie when he needed it. Which right now was inhumanly often and with them still in the bunkhouse they were having to get very creative with the venue. Johnny was going especially feral given that you had only been alone with them once more since you had promoted them and you had acted like last time had never happened. Clever actually, Simon had to hand it to you, you were very good at playing with people. He could see the little glimmer in your eye, the delight at seeing how Johnny seemed to be vibrating with anticipation of something that never came. You were setting him up to beg, making sure that when he gave in and went directly against his God that it would be him pleading for you to let him do so.

It wasn’t like you had ever been close enough to tell, but that little cross around Johnny’s neck had SR carved into the back of it. Simon had corrupted the Roman Catholic out of this pup years ago, the cross only came out on special occasions when Johnny wanted to play coy and innocent or when Simon wanted to remind him who he belonged to (because it certainly wasn’t a God, it was his fucking lieutenant). Well and now, when they both knew the sight of it would give you such a power trip that you’d fall right into their trap.

“I was thinking about your house” you said, the three of you standing where the foundations were already being put down.

“Aye?”

“It just seems such a waste when I have extra bedrooms in my home.”

“It would be such an honour to stay in any of them. Would we not be intruding?”

“Of course not Simon, you are my right hand men now. It makes sense for you to stay close to me. To one another.”

You swore you could see Johnny’s ears perk up, a phantom tail flicking quickly behind him in rapt attention at that. Of course their minds would go there, just like you wanted them to. It hadn’t been too difficult for you to be patient, to play with them so that you didn’t push too far too fast. It was something you were very good at.

“Would you… still let us build something here?”

“Oh?”

“I think a temple of sorts would be nice. Somewhere for you to relax. You work so hard for all of us and if you are taking us into your space I’d hate for you to have nowhere to go to meditate alone.”

It only took a few days to wear you down. You had no idea how much influence they already had with your followers, how easy it was for them to plant that idea there and have them be the ones appealing to you to please allow them to do this for you. And while that shred of morality you had left was screaming at you not to do this, not to actually Deify yourself lest it go too far, the adoration inflated your ego and drowned your conscience out.

So they started to build your temple.

–

“Ah! Like that. That’s it, that’s what I need” you moaned out, Simon in between your legs worshipping.

You had moved them into your home, the large house comfortable and spacious in comparison to the bunkhouse the other followers stayed in, and that night Simon had come to your room and gotten on his knees for you. How could you say no to him?

The adoration of your followers was nothing compared to this. They loved you yes, but fuck Simon was reverant, tongue swirling around your cunt so there was more holy water for him to glut himself on. This was decadent, languid on your bed with him focusing entirely on your pleasure, expecting nothing in return. This man who was spending his days by your side, overlooking the building of a temple in your honour. You could not decide in this moment if you wanted him to fuck you on the altar when it was done or if you wanted to fuck him.

It was a good conundrum to have because you felt that you could simply have both. You could have whatever the fuck you wanted with this man by your side. Who could stand against him and Johnny? And who would ever worship you more? You had never actually bought your own bullshit before, but if he kept this up maybe you were some sort of God because how else could you be living this deliciously?

You tugged his hair sharply to get him off of you and pushed at him until he was on his back. You would take what you wanted from him because it was your right to do so. He did not complain as you settled your cunt on his face and rode him, if anything his clever tongue worked harder to please you. You held his head and used him, and he drank you down and thanked you for the privilege after, vanishing out of your room as silently as he had arrived.

–

It only took another few weeks for Johnny to break and oh he broke so perfectly. Simon came to your room every night to pray, and Johnny must know, must have heard how Simon spilled thank yous against your cunt even as you pushed down to deprive him of oxygen, even as you smeared your slick all over his face, moving exactly as you liked with no consideration of him. You never touched him in any way meant for his pleasure, only to use him for yours.

It was not Simon who knocked lightly on the door. Simon didn’t knock at all, he always just let himself in.

“Come in Johnny.”

He was nervous, that much was clear. You did enjoy the sight of him in only his boxers and crucifix, moonlight doing wonders in making him look incredibly edible. You wanted to knead his pecs like they were tits, wanted to sink your teeth into the meat of his neck until you tasted blood and he cried out your name instead of his God’s.

“I want…”

“Hm? You want?”

“Will ye let me please ye? I ken Si… I’m naw good enough for ye, but I want tae be. It’s just, I’ve never uh… I’m a quick study.”

And with perfect timing, in walked Simon. Couldn’t have planned it better yourself (well, actually Johnny had planned it, Simon had laughed and ruffled his hair at how eager he had been to act the part of the blushing virgin before unhooking the leash and getting him out of his collar and into his crucifix).

“Good evening Simon” you purred.

The man didn’t really acknowledge that Johnny was in the room, instead going to his place by the foot of your bed and kneeling. It was always where you started, with him lapping at you until you ordered him onto the bed or the floor so you could take what you needed. Only you pushed him away with your foot when he tried to pull at your shorts, holding him at leg length and looking at Johnny.

“Come sit will you?”

He nervously shuffled over, sitting next to you on the bed with his eyes darting uncomfortably down to Simon kneeling pretty, your foot still holding him away from you. He swallowed and you thought it sweet how he held your gaze to avoid watching as you motioned for Simon to move and he did so without hesitation. Johnny still didn’t look at him even as you put a hand to his knee to make him spread his legs enough for Simon’s broad shoulders to fit between them.

“If you want to learn I’d never stop you Johnny, I want you to be the best at the things you’d like. And I’m sure Simon makes a wonderful teacher.”

Simon didn’t need prompting, obedient and perfect boy that he was. He started licking up Johnny’s thick thigh the same way he would have if you were sitting there. Johnny, bless him, gripped onto your leg like it was a lifeline, fingers digging into the plush flesh hard enough that you imagined it may leave marks. You swallowed his loud whine with your mouth when Simon slipped his boxers down and took his hard cock right to the root. It almost made you laugh, if you tried to take that in your throat you would certainly be gagging and crying.

When you pulled away Johnny was a whining mess, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other still dug into the fat of your thigh. You wondered if he had ever gotten head. Certainly not from another man. Oh wouldn’t his priest be so disappointed in him. You could imagine a severe man in the robes of God, looking with disgust at the whore before him. But you were a kinder creature, letting him indulge in pleasure without telling him he couldn’t.

Well, to a point. You pushed Simon to stop with the frankly immaculate looking blow job when it was clear from Johnny’s hips rutting that he was close. Then you swung your leg around, straddling Johnny and squeezing yourself to him, stopping him from trying to get friction from you.

“Not yet Johnny, you need to be patient hm? Simon, open him up. Tongue first, then fingers.”

Johnny was tearing up, looking at you like he didn’t understand why you were doing this while feeling horribly guilty that he liked it. He howled when Simon’s tongue started playing at his rim, his hands gripping at your hips to try and make you move against him. You put a hand to his throat and squeezed lightly.

“It’s ok, you can take it can’t you?”

“I-I cannae, please bonnie, I’m naw- I dinnae-” he whined before he choked on nothing, eyes blown wide, “h-his tongue is, fuck it’s inside.”

“I know Johnny, I know. Is it too much then? Should I tell him to stop? If you can’t take it, then at least you tried” you said, sweet as anything but putting a tiny edge of disappointment into your tone.

“I can take it! Please, I can! Dinnae make him stop, I can take whatever ye gie me!”

“Good boy.”

Oh, the reaction to those two words was worth exploring. It was like he changed from a man to some pathetic animal, eyes watery and begging, hands pawing at your hips while his own desperately tried to buck up. You felt how he froze, heard how he choked when Simon pressed a finger into him.

“Hmm that’s it, take what you’re given, you’ll be good and hold off for me hm?” you cooed, moving a hand to run fingers under his chain, all the way around until you were behind his neck and could yank, have that crucifix choking him. “Looks better like this Johnny, almost like a pretty collar for you.”

Jackpot. Even with you clamping down to give him as little room for friction as possible you felt the hot gush of his cum, him getting there from being choked, being compared to a dog to be collared. Well if he was going to be a mutt that came without your permission, the permission of his master, then he needed to learn his place no?

“Fuck pet, told you to be patient.”

“Sorry, m’sorry bonnie. Ah! M-make him stop, s’too much!”

“Make him stop? But he’s been good for me, followed everything I’ve asked, You went ahead and finished without permission. Wouldn’t make sense to punish him and reward you, I need to be fair pet.”

He was clearly overstimulated, his hips trying to rut even as he gasped at every bit of friction he got. Oh you wanted to see him fucked out and ruined. You wanted his heart on a fucking platter.

“More Simon. Johnny here is going to let you fuck him tonight, so you need to open him up properly.”

“I-I-” Johnny stuttered, bottom lip quivering and eyes wide and wet. If you weren't so high on the decadence of having these two men at your mercy you’d have questioned just how practised that was.

“Tell me Johnny. Tell me what it is you want.”

Tell me what it is I want to hear that you want. Be a good boy, don’t disappoint me. You’d hate to disappoint me after all I’ve done for you.

“I want Simon tae fuck me tonight.”

“Good boy” you said, hammering that final nail in God’s coffin as you yanked again at the chain so hard it snapped, taking your trophy and tossing it onto your desk without ever having examined it closely.

You watched Simon ruin him at your command. You drank their praise like champagne, bit into their gratitude like strawberries bursting their juice on your chin. You were greedy in how many times you used them for your pleasure, their fingers, their tongues, the sight of them overcome with hedonistic abandon.

You felt like a God.

–

The temple was beautiful, no effort or expense spared. The first floor was a space for everyone, for the brand new community gatherings that you occasionally led but had mostly been letting Simon and Johnny lead. Above that was two glorious floors of space only for you. The only other people permitted to set foot in here were your two right hands. It was something else, being in the luxuriant bed drinking champagne and watching the two of them play with each other for your benefit.

You could not stop thinking about the way Johnny had writhed at the mention of a collar when you had taken his crucifix for yourself (it still sat on the desk right where you had left it). You could not stop imagining how such a thing would look around his thick neck, how your other followers would look at it and be jealous that he got to be so visibly claimed by you.

As always your wish was their command. Simon had presented you with a gorgeous necklace of sorts, almost a choker, the pendant a symbol you didn’t recognise.

“This doesn’t look like a collar for you.”

“It’s for you. The symbol is from the cult of Venus, we thought… well we thought if you could wear it, show people, then when we wore it…”

“You want them to know you are wearing it for me.”

Perfect fucking boys weren’t they. They didn’t just want to show up in a collar, they wanted to show up in a symbol associated with you. It was pretty enough what they had chosen, delicate and clearly made with care and devotion. You turned and lifted your hair so he could put it on you and the very next community gathering was Johnny eagerly explaining the symbol to your followers. It was etched into the temple walls soon after.

–

The realisation happened all at once. You only attended community gatherings for special occasions now and when you did they were all looking at you like you were their God made flesh. Your followers had become something else, something well beyond a little eco-living commune. That had not been your doing.

The door was locked. You could not leave your space in the Temple. Your hand flew to the back of your necklace, realising with a startle that you couldn’t take it off. Simon and Johnny never did have collars made. Why would they? You were rapidly realising they had never intended to. You looked in the mirror, tried to find a clue. The pendant… it was only when you drew it over and over again that you figured it out. This wasn’t some symbol of an old Goddess, it was the letters S R J M twisted around to make a pretty symbol. You sat and stewed, waiting for them to get back. When they did you were sat on the bed, glowering at them.

“Aww ye figure us out bonnie?”

“You played me.”

“Like a fucking violin sweetheart” Simon cooed, walking over to flick the pendant.

You huffed up at him. Everything was completely fucked now. You had all but ordered your followers to treat these two as your spokesmen. You had been slowly vanishing from public life, ingraining in their minds that you were a God who lived in a temple and only graced them with your presence when they had really earned it. All this after years of breaking them down so they thought nothing they ever did was good enough, so of course they would never think they had earned it.

And you had never used violence for anything, you were soft and lived on champagne and strawberries for fuck sake, it wasn’t like you could brute force your way out of this. You were enough of a schemer to know when you had been outplayed.

“So the little shy virginal act?”

Johnny laughed and came over to nuzzle into your hair.

“Ye’d naw believe how many times Si has been in my arse hen, this isnae even the first house of God he’s bent me over in.”

You scowled and pushed his head away, but his eyes only sparkled with excitement as he bullied it right back into nuzzling you like a fucking dog.

“Pup has been so excited about you finally figuring it out. You’ve been teasing him for months now, don’t think it’s time to give him a treat for how well behaved he’s been for you?”

It’s not like you were against the idea, it had been delicious being the dominant one all this time but there was something interesting about the idea of letting Simon take control, letting him get Johnny to fuck you the way you had let him fuck Johnny. Because that would be the case you knew now. It was so obvious knowing what you knew, you really should have figured out way sooner that Simon had always been in control. All the things you had done since he got here that you had thought your ideas weren’t yours at all, he had put them in your head.

“So that’s it then? You keep me here and take over?”

Simon was looking at you with something deranged behind those eyes. It was dreadfully exciting.

“You're coming to tonight's community gathering. You can decide if puppy gets a treat after that.”

–

The Birth of God happened on that brilliant Friday evening. One moment you had been fighting against your conscience, and the next you had let go. You had walked forward, no floated, and pressed a holy kiss to his head. Watching one of your followers plunge a knife into the heart of another on your altar, both with a smile on their faces, was fucking beautiful.

The Revelation happened about the same time. You dipped your fingers in the blood (the same colour as those tomatoes he so loved, the tomatoes that his body would feed and your followers would eat) and marked his murderer with your symbol, the initials of the men that had made you God.

Puppy had more than earned his treat.

#mhairiwrites #cod #fanfic #ghoap x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #please read the cws #also please let me exist on champagne and strawberries because I am OVER IT #if I was not a depressed little mess and could actually write smut right now you would have gotten reader getting railed on a bloody altar #would have been great

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