#barely doing anything with them despite wanting to đ
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i had a vision last night
grim and jamil body swap what shenanigans will ensue i wonder
#idk đ§#jamil in grimâs body trying to convince everyone that they swapped bodies#grim in jamilâs body denying all of it and (mostly) everyone believes him#hehe such good potential for x yuu ships#if grim doesnt like the boy yuu likes#or if the boy likes yuu#grim will try to sabotage it while heâs in their body#the one in grim's body learns things about yuu while yuu believes they're still talking to grim#[ââŚ-#-⧠my art#twst art#twst#twisted wonderland#jamil viper#twst grim#bodyswaptwst#-âŚâ]#i love how i introduce a lot of concepts and just.#barely doing anything with them despite wanting to đ#sorry if this has already been thought of before tho đ
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oscar's a grouch (or is he?)
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
summary: to your knowledge, oscar piastri really doesn't like you. but a night out in monaco makes you realize that maybe you don't know oscar's feelings towards you quite as well as you think you do. (3.7k)
warnings: swearing, unwanted advances from a man (not oscar, don't worry), a smidge of landoscar if u squint really hard
a/n: idk about y'all but this summer break is killing me đ i just wanna see my boys on track again is that too much to ask. anyways here's some oscar bc he's been giving literal crumbs lately (except for casually mentioning his broken fucking rib)
Youâre not even sure what you're celebrating tonight.Â
All you know is Lando called you a few hours ago demanding you come to some club with him and a few of his other driver friends, and who were you to deny yourself a fun night out? Especially one where you can put all your drinks on Landoâs tab. (Youâre not a gold diggerâLando refuses to let you pay for most things when you go out because he, and you quote, âmakes a shit ton of money, so why not use itâ.)Â
Now youâre here, sipping the last of your third (fourth maybe?) drink of the night until thereâs nothing but ice.Â
The music blasting through the club is so loud you feel the bass thumping in your chest, and it only gets louder when you venture through the crowd in search of the group you came with.
Somehow youâd gotten separated, but itâs really not too hard to locate them. All you have to do is look for a very tall, very polite looking British man a head taller than everyone else, and then youâve found George Russell.
He spots you too, beckoning you over into the VIP section with a cool nod of his head. All the other drivers are around tooâCarlos winks at you over the rather brightly patterned mini umbrella in his drink, Max tips his glass at you as you make your way by.Â
Charles and Oscar sit together on a sofa further into the section, seeming deep in conversation, but look up as you pass them. The Monegasque reaches up to give you a fist bump, and Oscar just blinks at you, taking a measured swig of his beer. You fight the urge to sigh at his standoffishness.Â
Over the years, Landoâs friends have quickly become your friends too, but Oscar Piastri is an enigma you have yet to crack. You know heâs on the quieter side because Lando had warned you of it before youâd met Oscar for the first time, but you werenât expecting completely and totally icy.
The Oscar that Lando always talks about excitedly is an entirely different person than the Oscar youâve become familiar with.Â
It seems like he can barely look you in the eye whenever you try to make small talk with him, and you donât think youâve ever been alone with him because he always finds a way to slip away before you can even try to make a genuine connection with him.Â
What makes things even better (read: worse) is that despite all that, youâve grown a small crush on Oscar. Youâre not sure how, and youâre not sure why, but that doesnât make your feelings any less real. Youâve accepted that this is just the way things will always be with him, you with a pesky crush and him not wanting anything to do with you.Â
You find Lando quickly, bopping around to the beat of the song playing without a care in the world. He looks like heâs having the time of his life, and when he spots you, he positively beams, waving wildly at you.Â
âHey, you!â He exclaims. âHow are you? I love you!âÂ
âI love you too!â You chuckle. âI was gonna get another drink, dâyou want anything?âÂ
âWhat?â He yells, brows furrowing. âYouâre gonna dye your hair pink?â
âAnother drink, dummy! Do you want another drink?â You make sure heâs looking at you this time, over-enunciating your words, so heâll understand them. He narrows his eyes at you in the dim lighting but gets the gist of your question, perking up at the possibility of yet another drink.Â
âMore vodka shots, baby! One for you, one for me! No, one for everyone!â He giggles, slinging an arm around your shoulders.
His movement is so enthusiastic he nearly tips the two of you over, stumbling on his feet clumsily. Youâre quick to push him back into an upright position, grimacing with effort as you trudge over to the nearest sofa and deposit him onto the seat unceremoniously.Â
âOh, this is nice,â He sighs, stroking the leather dreamily. âI shouldâI should get one of these for my place. Dâyou think theyâd let me take it home?âÂ
âI really donât think so, Lan,â You reply, amused. âStay here. Donât leave this sofa.âÂ
Lando groans, tilting his head back against the cushions. âOkay, mum. God!âÂ
Right, so maybe he doesnât need those extra shots after all.Â
You shoot him one more stern look before leaving him behind and heading for the bar, quietly tasking Carlos with making sure Lando doesnât do anything stupid while youâre gone.Â
Thereâs an empty spot at the bar when you approach, and you slide in, fingers tapping on the countertop idly as you wait for the bartender to finish up other drinks.Â
âHey.âÂ
You glance to your left to see a man you donât recognize, smiling at you.
âHi.â You say back, pressing your lips into a polite smile. Youâre hoping thatâll be the end of the conversation, because youâre not really in the mood to be talking to someone you donât know when all youâre trying to do is order something.Â
âWhatâs a pretty thing like you doing all alone in a club like this?â His eyes rake over you from head to toe as he says it, shamelessly checking you out with a glint in his eye that makes you feel dirty.Â
You take a small, calculated step backward, and much to your dismay, he takes that as an invitation to inch forward. âIâm with a group of friends.âÂ
âAre they all as attractive as you?â He must think heâs being smooth, but it just makes you even more uncomfortable.Â
âPretty sure theyâre not your type,â You reply flatly. âUnless youâre into dudes.âÂ
The manâs nostrils flare, like youâre accusing him of something absurd. âIâm not. Iâve only dated girls. Really hot girls.âÂ
âUhâŚgood for you? I donât reallyââÂ
âWhatâs your name? I bet itâs something sexy.âÂ
âYâknow, my friends are probably wondering where I am, so Iâm just gonnaââÂ
âWhatâs the rush, sweetheart? Iâm just trying to get to know you,â He drawls, stroking clammy fingers over the back of your hand. You yank it away, reaching up to adjust the strap of your top just so he wasnât touching you anymore. Maybe a little bit harsh, but the vibe youâre getting from him isnât good at all.Â
âI have a boyfriend,â You reply stiffly. Itâs a boldfaced lie, but you're hoping you sound convincing enough to get this guy off your case. Heâs starting to make you nervous.Â
He takes an overdramatic look at your surroundings before focusing back on you, shrugging. âI donât see one.âÂ
As if the universe is presenting you with a way out, you spot Oscar walking by at that very second, and before you can think you're grabbing his hand, tugging him towards you. He comes willingly, but looks slightly confused as you tuck yourself close to him.
Heâs definitely not your first choice, but right now you don't think you can afford to be picky. At least it's someone you know.Â
You pop up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, lips almost pressed to his cheek as you whisper, âPlease play along.â
His eyes flick between you and your unwanted conversation partner, and for a moment you think he might blow your cover, but he slides an arm around you after you turn back around, resting his hand on the small of your back.Â
You force yourself to ignore the effect it has on you, instead opting to press a little more into his side. His torso is firm under your trembling hands, tense if anything, but the steady rise and fall of his level breathing provides comfort.Â
âWe got a problem here, mate?â Oscarâs voice sounds more serious than you've ever heard it, and when you look up at him, he looks downright scary. He towers over both you and the guy you're desperately trying to get rid of, brow furrowed, jaw set. Youâre glad that look has never been aimed at you.
The guy shifts nervously on his feet, but still holds his ground. Not a good idea, anyone with an ounce of common sense could see that. âNo problems, just trying to have a friendly conversation.âÂ
âDoesnât look very friendly to me. Looks like youâre bothering my girlfriend.âÂ
âDunno what to tell you, mate. We were just chatting, werenât we, sweetheart?âÂ
You wrinkle your nose in disgust, feeling safe enough to do so tucked under Oscarâs arm like you are right now. This guy might be a fucking creep, but heâs not stupid enough to go up against Oscar. âNo.âÂ
He glowers at you, and you feel Oscarâs palm come around, curling around your waist protectively. âSeems like thatâs settled then. I reckon you should leave now.â Oscarâs tone leaves absolutely no room for discussion.
Is it wrong that you find it hot?Â
âFine. Donât need to waste my time on bitches anyways.âÂ
Oscar stiffens. He moves forward like heâs about to throw a punch, but youâre quicker, splaying your palm over his very sturdy chest to stop him before he does anything rash. You donât think itâll go over too well with McLaren higher ups if they learn that one of their drivers got into a fight at a club.Â
âHeâs not worth it, Osc,â You say softly. He looks down at you, sees the look in your eyes, and his posture relaxes just a little bit. Youâre not sure how long the two of you hold each otherâs gaze, but when you finally tear your eyes away from his, the guy is long gone.Â
Only then do you step away from Oscar, straightening yourself out as much as you can given how things couldâve ended had he not been there to save your ass. He steps away too. With the guy no longer around, thereâs no reason for you to be that close together.Â
âYou alright?â He mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. Even in the dim lighting of the club, you can see how red his cheeks are.Â
âYeah. Fine. That guy was just really freaking me out.âÂ
âAre you sure? That youâre okay, I mean. âCause yeah, that guy was a creep.âÂ
âTotal creep,â You agree, bobbing your head. âBut Iâm sure. Iâm, uh, Iâm sorry for putting you on the spot like that. I donât know what I wouldâve done had you not been there, soâŚthank you. I know it was probably a little hard for you, but thanks anyways.âÂ
That last part was likely not necessary, but youâre a smidge tipsy right now. Youâll blame your loose lips on the alcohol.Â
Oscarâs brow pinches in the middle, head tilting in confusion. âWhat?âÂ
âPretending to be my boyfriend. Pretending to like me.âÂ
âWhy would that be hard for me?âÂ
âUh, I dunno, maybe âcause you donât.âÂ
âYouâwait, you think I donât like you?â Oscar looks truly befuddled at your insinuation, and you frown, because from your side of things, itâs pretty damn clear.Â
âIâm not, like, upset or hurt, or anything. You have a right to dislike whoever you want, I donât care,â You shrug, craning your neck to look for the bartender.Â
âItâs not true.âÂ
You hum absentmindedly, not really paying attention to his words. Where was that damn bartender? You need that drink, now. Oscarâs fingers wrap around your forearm loosely, but tight enough to grab your attention again. âWhat?âÂ
âI donâtâŚnot like you.âÂ
âI said I donât care, Oscar. You donât have to try and make me feel better. Itâs fine,â You assure him. You really wish heâd stop pushing the subject. âJust drop it, yeah? Thanks for the save, you can go back to the group now.âÂ
He regards you blankly for a long few seconds, then he opens his mouth, and just when you think heâs about to say something, it snaps shut. Then he pivots on his heel and starts to walk away. You roll your eyes, turning back to the bar. After all this, you definitely need another drink. Preferably a strong one.Â
Maybe youâll get those shots Lando wanted after all.Â
The bartender finally spots you and you sigh in relief, glad and ready to finally get what you came for, but before you can get a word out, youâre being dragged away by the hand.Â
You nearly scream, your mind jumping to the worst conclusion before your gaze lands on the same broad shoulders, the same head of brown hair that had just left you not seconds ago. Itâs Oscar pulling you through the crowd, and even though youâre beyond relieved, youâre also confused and a little bit pissed off.Â
âWhatâre youâhey! Oscar!â You have to shout over the pulsing music, but either he canât hear you or heâs choosing to ignore you, because he doesnât stop.Â
He muscles through the crowd with surprising ease with you stumbling along behind him until youâre outside the club, in some sort of private patio area. Thereâs no one else out here and youâre glad for it, because you have half a mind to yell at him.
Oscar drops your hand, running his fingers through his hair, and when he looks up, you detect confliction in those big brown eyes of his. It almost derails your thought process, but you scowl.Â
âWhat is your problem?â You snap, folding your arms over your chest angrily.Â
âYou think I donât like you.âÂ
You squeeze your eyes shut, pinching the bridge of your nose. âThis again? Fucking hell, I told you to forget about it, Oscar. I meant that.âÂ
âNo, Iâm not gonnaâyou said it, so you obviously meant it. I wanna know why,â He insists. âWhy do you think I donât like you?âÂ
âMaybe because you havenât exactly given me anything else to go off of? You always brush me off when I try to talk to you, and when I do get you to have a conversation with me, you can barely look me in the eye. And I swear, itâs like you find every excuse to not be around me.âÂ
You canât resist the urge to allow a slightly bitter sounding laugh escape you because, fuck, no matter how many times you tell yourself that you donât care what Oscar thinks of you, that you donât give a crap about how it looks like heâs only this way with you, you do care.Â
You care so much it makes you want to scream into the void. You shouldnât care, but you do.Â
âSo you can say that itâs not true, you can tell me Iâm wrong all you want, but Iâm just telling it as I see it.âÂ
Oscar blinks at you again in that way he always does when you talk, the way that makes you want to smack him upside the head but also kiss him senseless too, just to see if heâd react differently.Â
âIâm an idiot,â He says. You press your lips together. There wonât be any denying that fact from you.Â
He groans, tipping his back towards the sky. âIâm an idiot. Itâs not because I donât like you. Itâsââ He pauses, sighing. Crossing his arms, uncrossing them, weighing his options. âItâs because I do like you. A lot. I like you to the point where I donât know how to act around you without the fear I might do or say something stupid, and then youâll think Iâm a dickhead.âÂ
âSo you thought completely icing me out wasâŚyou not being a dickhead?âÂ
He wrinkles his nose, like he's just realized what his actions mustâve looked like to an outside party. âOh. Thatâs not what I meant toâŚ.fuck, you must think Iâm such aââ
âDickhead?â You supply helpfully. He nods, shoulders slumping.Â
Youâre used to long stretches of silence with Oscar, but this one feels different. Now that you know he doesnât totally hate your guts, the silence isnât totally unbearable. He steps closer, watching you, gauging your reaction to his movements like youâre some sort of unpredictable creature.Â
If anything, Oscarâs the unpredictable one.Â
âSoâŚâ You start, tilting your head. âYou like me?âÂ
Oscar exhales sharply, nodding. âGuess it might be a bit of a shocker, but I do.â Â
âAnd you already know I like you.âÂ
âIâve noticed, yeah,â He says, lips quirking up into a small smile. âWhat do we do now?â
âMaybe we take things slow. Get to know each other first, âcause I dunno if youâve noticed, but one of us spent a lot of time ignoring the other,â You lilt, half joking. Oscar rolls his eyes playfully, but nods his agreement nonetheless. âI think for now, we should get back inside. Iâve got to make sure Lando hasnât tried to steal the sofa from right out the section.âÂ
Oscarâs nose scrunches, head cocking to the side in bewilderment. âIâm sorry, what?âÂ
âItâs a long story. Iâll tell you about it another time.âÂ
âHow about tomorrow over dinner?â He blurts, running a hand through his hair. It flops right back into place, one stray curl hanging over his forehead that he doesnât seem to notice as he smiles hopefully at you.Â
âIâd like that.âÂ
âYeah?âÂ
âDuh.âÂ
His smile grows bigger, pushing up his cheeks so much it makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. Youâve never been the receiver of this smile before, and now that you are, you never want him to stop smiling at you like this. âOkay. Okay, cool. Iâll text you.âÂ
âDonât you need my number for that?âÂ
âOh, Iâve uh, Iâve got it already. I nabbed it from Landoâs phone a while ago. Just in case I gathered up the courage to message you. Which I didnât, as you could probably tell,â He replied, letting out a breathy chuckle. âI wanted to though. I justâI didnât know what to say.âÂ
âHowâd you get into his phone?âÂ
He snorts this time, raising a brow at you. âHis passwordâs 4444. Not exactly mission impossible.âÂ
You really need to have a talk with your friend about Internet safety one of these days.Â
The aforementioned friend throws his hands up into the air when he spots you making your way back into the section as soon as you re-enter the club, bouncing over to you to wrap you in a giant hug. Lando mumbles something you canât understand into your ear and giggles, then spots Oscar lingering behind you and positively screeches, reaching to pull him into the hug too.Â
You donât have time to get your arms out of where theyâre trapped against your sides in Landoâs surprisingly vice-like grip before Oscar stumbles forward into your back at his friendâs harsh tug, cheek smushing against the top of your head. The muttered sorry he offers you does nothing to quell your rocket fast heartbeat at being this close to him for the first time.
âLook at us!â Lando hiccups, squeezing you both as tight as he can. Not an easy feat when youâre hugging two people at once. He bumps his forehead against yours gently to draw your attention back to him. (More like lightly headbutted, but you remain un-concussed so you wonât hold it against him.) âHey, youâre in a papaya sandwich!âÂ
Oscarâs low chuckle vibrates through his chest and you feel it rumble through you too. You also feel his pinky curl around your own, thumb pressing against the inside of your wrist tenderly.Â
Itâs a subtle gesture, one that might not seem like much to anyone else, but youâve gone from sort of acquaintances to something a little more than friends in the span of less than an hour.
Are you even friends now? You canât even answer that. You like him and he likes you, but the only time youâve ever spent together has been around other people.Â
Still, only two points of contactâyouâre not even holding hands and you think you might spontaneously combust.Â
But you have to play it cool.Â
The good thing about drunk Lando is that his attention span is close to zero, so he quickly grows bored of sandwiching you into a McLaren hug and wanders off again, most likely in search of another drink. You feel like it would be a good idea to stop him but you plop onto the nearest couch instead, letting your head tip against the back of it.Â
To your surprise, Oscar motions for you to scooch over, slotting himself into the extra space you create. Thereâs a respectful distance left between yourselves, but then he leans towards you to be heard over the music.
âYour pulse was racing.âÂ
âGee, I wonder why,â You muse. âDefinitely not because of how I feel about you.âÂ
âHa ha. Youâre funny.âÂ
âSee what youâve been missing out on all this time?â You joke, head lolling to the side to grin at him.Â
âI see it.â Heâs looking at you unabashedly already, eyes drinking you in like heâs parched and youâre water. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, and god, you want to kiss him so bad right now.Â
Instead you take a deep breath, fixing him to the spot with a pointed look. âStop staring, or youâll draw attention.âÂ
Oscar startles like he wasnât aware he was staring that hard at you, mumbling out another apology before retreating back to his own bubble of space stiffly.Â
You feel a tad guilty now. You didnât mean to sound so harsh, but you and Oscar havenât even begun to understand what you are to each other yet, and the last thing you want is the driver rumor mill to start spinning its wheels about your budding relationship before you even knew if there was going to be a relationship. Itâs the kind of thing you want to keep under wraps until the two of you figure things out.Â
Sighing lightly, you slide your hand along the empty space separating you, curling your pinky around his the same way he did earlier. Part of you expects heâll shy away, so when he reciprocates the action, youâre pleasantly relieved.Â
Thereâs still quite a bit of getting to know each other to be done, but youâre excited to see what this next chapter with Oscar holds.
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#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#op81 x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x fem!reader#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri one shot
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actor! toji fushiguro thoughts đ
actor toji would be one of those hot dilf actors that women would always be drooling over, edits of him always popping up on your fyp, the most outta pocket comments underneath all of his insta posts, he would be the number 1 dilf for all the old man fuckers.
toji rarely posts on social media. heâs at that age where he just does not care to post his whole life online, but that only attracts people to him more because he is so mysterious. he would have like 10 million followers and only follow 12 people (including you)
toji would probably be one of those actors that have no variety in their roles, but everybody would still eat it up anyways. toji as an actor would typically play a villain/antagonist or an anti-hero, typically in an action movie/series and he plays them well. toji can embody an intimidating, frightening, intelligent villain very well. he could be cast as one of the most horrendous, horrible villains and be a menace towards the main cast but because he looks like that, he is forgiven.
but there are those rare times toji is casted as a father or father figure and his character would do anything for their daughter and everyone just loses it. he plays the father role well, almost too well. he is so caring, protective and sweet towards the actress playing as his daughter, even behind the scene clips with one another, he is just so gentle and dreamy. the fans cannot handle it!
during interviews, toji can be charming. he cracks jokes and he answers questions honestly, even if they make him look unprofessional. he really does not give a fuck about that, which only makes him even more attractive. heâs a little sleazy sometimes, but that just adds to his lazy effortless appeal.
he just has such a dominant personality and not in a bad way either. like if an interviewer asked a question that made a cast member uncomfortable, he would smoothly change the subject and the mood, making everyone forget about it entirely. also, his stare is really intenseâŚlike when the interviewer or a fellow cast member is speaking, he makes sure to look at them and listen really closely, not even realising how intimidating that could be đ
despite his unprofessional personality and wealthy background, people who work with toji cannot say anything bad about him. he is a great actor with great work ethic and is always respectful to his cast members. and most of all, he is humble. due to his background and accomplishments, other actors on set expect him to be all flashy and all head in the clouds, but toji isnât like that. toji is very aware and down to earth and he doesnât see himself as superior because of his wealth. he sees what that power does to some people (his family) and he wants nothing not do with it.
overall, for the most part, toji is a respected actor, with a loyal (albeit crazy) fanbase, he actually enjoys his job and lives a relatively private and quiet life. people barely know anything despite his wealth and fame and prefers to keep it that way.
a/n: this was inspired by jeffrey dean morgan lmao. also iâm thinking of maybe doing a mini one shot with actress reader x actor toji in the form of one of those youtube videos like â(reader) & toji fushiguro being a couple for 10 minutes straightâ i think that would be fun đ¤đ¤
edit: toji & reader being a couple for 10 minutes straight is here <3
#lana del rey girlies would love him so bad#actor!toji#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji headcanons#toji fushiguro headcanons#toji x you#toji fushiguro x you#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fluff#toji fushiguro fluff#toji zenin x reader#t
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SO HIGHSCHOOL , HANNI PHAM
âyou know how to ball, i know aristotle!â
â SYNOPSIS â in which hanni falls for the captain of the basketball team, despite you two being complete opposites.
â PAIRING(S) â yearbook/newspaper student!hanni x athlete!reader
â WARNING(S) â blood mentioned, injuries, kissing, lowkey rushed i wanted to get it out for her birthday đ
a/nâ ily yearbook girlie hanni pham!! also happy birthday hanni
it was unreal to haerin how her best friend had fallen in love with y/n. hanni pham of all people was deeply in love with you, someone who barely even looked her way. hanni even showed up to all your games making the excuse that it was so she could take photos for the school newspaper, but everyone knew it was just for you.
it was one of those days right now actually, hyein and haerin sighing as they accompanied hanni to make sure she didnât do anything stupid.
you and your teammates were currently strategizing, the other team calling a timeout as your team was up by forty points.
âhan what even is interesting about this, every game y/n makes like five threes and carries her team to victory. nothing else ever happens.â hyein complains, making hanni roll her eyes.
âand then she gaslights herself into thinking y/n shot them all for her.â haerin says, making hanni side eye her.
âall you guys do is complain,â hanni groans, âalso i do not gaslight myself?! she really does shoot them for me.â hanni says.
âyouâre insane.â haerin says simply, making hanni come back to reality.
âmy bad.â hanni mutters, grabbing her camera again as the timeout concluded.
the girl had an insane amount of photos already, some of your best plays coming from this game. it was concerning how much of cameo you made in each new issue of the newspaper, it was actually something you noticed recently but you brushed it off and just thought you were having a good season.
you were running down the court waiting for a pass when a bright flash blinded you, making you groan. you looked up to see three girls in the stands, scrambling and yelling at each other. two of them were yelling at the girl with a camera on her neck, the girl having her hand over her mouth in shock.
âhanni you cannot be serious right now.â hyein deadpanned, looking at her older friend.
âI DIDNâT KNOW IT WOULD DO THAT?â hanni says, her hand quickly making its way to cover her mouth.
she would never recover from this, she looked down to see if you noticed just to see you staring directly at her making her heart drop.
âhyein.â
âhanni?â
âlook.â
âoh my god.â
âi blinded the love of my life.â hanni says, sinking down into her seat.
âhow do you manage to ruin everything.â haerin says, making hanni roll her eyes and ignore her friend.
your teammate hadnât realized you werenât paying attention, the girl throwing the ball to you for an easy shot. her jaw dropped when she saw you fall to the ground, the ball leaving a big red mark on your face.
the ref blew his whistle, calling a timeout in which all of your teammates ran towards you to figure out what happened.
ây/n what are you doing?!â yujin shouts, anger laced throughout her voice.
you didnât even understand the girl as you just barely woke up from your small sleep, causing you to touch your head and feel blood.
âah shit.â you curse, the pressure of your hand sending pain coursing through your body.
ây/n did you hear me?! what the hell are you doing?â yujin repeats, your other teammates concerned.
âyujin..â was all you could mutter before you saw black. you knew it was over, this was most definitely your last game of the season.
back up in the stands hanni couldnât believe her eyes, all because of her stupid camera flash you were now injured.
âhanni, you actually just may have made the most insane fuck up of all time.â haerin says.
âi genuinely have no words.â hanni says, her eyes trained on you as your teammates carry you out the gym. the match even had to be finished early, with the lead your team had it didnât even matter much.
if hanni even thought she had any chance with you before, it was most definitely gone now. she didnât even know how she fucked up this bad.
â
the next day hanni anxiously tapped her fingers against her usual lunch table, danielle and minji confused at her unusual antics.
nobody knew what y/n was looking at while she was distracted, so it was a complete mystery to the two girls what had happened yesterday.
âhanni, are you good?â minji asks, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
âyeah! just anxious about my spanish test.â hanni lies quickly, looking around after like she was being interrogated for a crime.
âum okay..â minji says, she knew there was no spanish test today (they had the same class..) but she chose to not question any further.
a small conversation picked up between dani and hyein, haerin sometimes chiming in with minji. hanni couldnât even focus, she was so unbelievably worried about you.
hanni couldnât get image of you on the ground out of her head, a lingering feeling of guilt following her everywhere. thankfully she had yet to see you, she knew she would probably break down.
hanni was also nervous that you would confront her, tell her that she ruined your life or that she was awful but she knew you wouldnât. that was what drew her towards you. regardless of how your friends and teammates acted, you were the kindest person ever. whenever a new issue came out you would compliment her on her work, as hanni usually worked on the sports section alone. it was a simple gesture really, but coming from you it meant the world to hanni.
in conclusion the girl was smitten with you, and she wanted nothing more than to know you were okay.
â
hanni knew it was stupid. but she let herself walk into the nurses office, where you currently were getting checked on.
hanni thought it would be fine, considering they had a student nurse at the moment who she knew well. she walked in and greeted her friend, the older boy smiling at her.
âhi hanni.â huening kai greets the girl quickly, before turning back his attention to your wound.
âoh sorry kai, i didnât know you still had someone in here.â hanni apologizes, knowing well she knew you were in there.
you stared at hanni in disbelief, you couldnât really see her when you were on the court so her beauty amazed you. maybe it was okay that she blinded you, and also sort of caused you a major injury.
âno worries hanni! i actually need to go grab something from the main office really quickly, can you watch y/n for me?â kai says, to which hanni nods almost immediately.
âthanks! y/n keep your head down.â kai commands, noticing the way you sat up to look at hanni.
âoh yeah, sorry..â you mutter, laying back down slowly as kai left.
there was a moment of silence, before you sat up almost immediately alarming hanni.
ây/n youâre gonnaââ hanni starts, being cut off by you.
âit was you, wasnât it.â you say eerily, further examining hanniâs face.
âhuh?â hanni questions, her heart dropping to her ass. she didnât think you would acknowledge it.
âitâs okay hanni!â you retort quickly, noticing the change in the girls demeanor.
ânext time just wait until i actually make the shot.â you tease her, making hanni groan.
âit was really an accident iâm so so so so so so so sorry.â hanni mumbles just loud enough for you to hear.
âitâs fine hanni, your photos are actually really good. i use them on insta all the time.â you reassure the girl, taking her hand in yours making her unbelievably nervous.
âyou do?â hanni says dumbfoundedly. (she actually knew that, she loved scrolling through your instagram, but you didnât need to know that.)
âyeah, i mean you manage a whole section of the newspaper yourself for a reason. you always manage to catch my good side, itâs actually kind of scary.â you say, making hanni smile nervously.
âi just pay close attention you know, i love basketball!â hanni lies through her teeth, she didnât know shit about basketball she just liked watching you play.
âoh really? whoâs your favorite player?â you ask.
âum⌠lebron james?â hanni admits quietly, looking away in embarrassment at the way you burst out into laughter at her response.
âwow, you seem very well versed on basketball ms pham.â you say, still giggling at how unsure she sounded giving her response.
âi justâ oh shut up.â hanni deadpans, noticing that you were now teasing her on purpose.
silence filled the room once again, causing you to lock eyes with hanni. you finally got to see her in all her glory, your eyes slowly scanning her face until they stopped at her lips.
she looked so kissable in that moment to you, the thought of her making you smile. what hanni didnât know is that you were actually obsessed with her too, youâre teammates hated you for it always calling her the pretty girl in the stands.
you looked back up to see hanni staring at your lips too, making you ask a question on impulse.
âcan i kiss you?â
another beat of silence, making you nervous.
âplease.â
you wrap your arms around hanniâs neck, crashing your lips onto hers as she held your waist. you knew kai would be back soon but you didnât care, you had been waiting forever for this.
the two of you only pulled away for air, addicted to the feeling of your lips on each others. though every good thing comes to an end, the two of you jumping at the sound of the door opening.
kai stood there dumbfounded, âyou know what, iâm not even gonna ask.â
âum, y/n youâre free to go! after youâre done with whatever..â kai says, smiling awkwardly.
he quickly closed the door making you laugh, hanni hiding in the crook of your neck.
ânever again.â she mutters into your neck.
âyou sure?â
âshut up."
#newjeans#newjeans x reader#newjeans hanni#hanni pham#hanni pham x reader#newjeans hanni x reader#hanni x reader#newjeans fanfic#kpop#kpop x reader
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mdni. nsfw 18+
pairing: na jaemin x reader
warnings: cockwarming, making out, unprotected sex, clingy bf jaem
im ovulating rn and i get so horny for jaemin specifically when im ovulating like yall dont get it đđđđđđ
âyou know youâre my baby, right?â jaemin is almost suffocating you at this point, laying his beefy body right on top of you while he wraps his arms around your waist and snuggles his face into your neck. his legs are tangled with your own underneath the mess of the sheets. he peppers little kisses on your collarbone while you giggle into his hair. âand i love you forever, my baby.â
your heart flutters at his affection. âyes jaemin, as if thatâs not the fourth time youâve told me already today.â
he picks up his head to give you an exaggerated pout. âokay say you love me then.â
you roll your eyes and press short pecks on his lips. âi- kiss love- kiss you.â
before you can pull away again, he holds your chin to deepen your kiss. you moan when he sucks on your lip, biting it lightly with his teeth. you always love when he does that. he uses his other hand to cup your cheek gently while you loop your arms around his neck to caress his soft brown hair.
the air in the room grows heavy and the tension thickens as he continues to kiss you passionately, like he can never get enough of you. with his legs still intertwined with yours, he starts to lightly rub his crotch against your thigh. you can feel his cock harden beneath his sweats as you roll your hips up to meet his.
he pulls away from your lips with a wet smack, a lustful gaze in his half lidded eyes. âsit on me baby, let me feel you.â
you give him a cheeky grin and lift up at his shirt to expose his toned abdomen. he chases your lips again with a bright smile on his face, kissing them hungrily for more. he lifts you up and places you on his lap with ease, never breaking away from your lips for even a second. his hands explore every inch of your body, groping at every bit of exposed flesh from your thighs to your tits. with your legs wrapped around his waist, you slowly peel every layer of clothing off your body until your bare cunt is rubbing on his hardened cock through his boxers and you leave a wet stain on the material.
he pulls his boxers down and his cock springs out, hot and red and leaking with precum at the tip. when you reach down to stroke his length, you struggle to wrap your hand around it. his cock is fat and veiny, ready to split you open.
he groans at the contact. âfuck, baby, i need you to sit on it. right fucking now. can you do that for me?â he wraps his larger hand around yours to guide your strokes up and down his length, his cock getting impossibly harder with every stroke.
you give him a sly look. âof course, baby. anything for you.â
you sit up to guide his needy cock to your entrance, letting the fat tip tease your hole. your cunt starts to drip on his cock as his cock rests just outside your hole. you pause, wanting to see him get all needy and antsy for more action. he pouts. he was going to let you take control but it seems you just want to keep teasing him.
he suddenly grabs your hips to hold then in place and bucks his hips upwards, sheathing almost half of his length inside your little cunt with a single thrust. you both moan at the feeling of your gummy walls stretching around his thick cock.
âf-fuck,â you hiss, trying to adjust to his size.
youâre still so tight despite being so wet and ready for him. he canât get enough of the way you feel around him, clenching around his length and dripping on his cock. he leans forward to give you another sweet kiss on the lips. âready, baby?â
when you nod in affirmation, he guides your hips to slowly sink the rest of his length into your tight cunt. he bottoms out when you can finally rest your hips back onto his. you feel so stuffed, full of his cock as he reaches deep in your cunt and pressed up against your cervix.
âfuck, letâs just stay like this, hm? you just feel so good for me, baby.â he coos into your ear, tickling the shell with his warm breath.
when you whisper a soft yes, he pulls you closer to his chest so he can wrap you into a bear hug. he has to shift his hips so you can rest comfortably on top of him, causing his cock to jerk inside of you as you gasp from the feeling. his tip is kissing your cervix, reaching deep to the entrance of your womb from the sheer length of his cock.
you stay snuggled on his chest, burying your face into his bare chest. heâs so warm and soft, you think to yourself, as his arms hug you close to his body. his hot cock is still nestled deep inside of you as your cunt flutters around his thick length, making you feel so full and content. he presses a sweet kiss to the top of your head. âi love you. youâll always be my baby forever.â
#nct dream smut#nct smut#nct dream x reader#nct dream#nct x reader#na jaemin x reader#na jaemin smut#jaemin#jaemin smut#jaemin x reader#na jaemin
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Im having a soobin brainrot⌠so anything soobin đđđ
i will literally never shut up about size kink soobin
warnings: perv!soobin, chubby reader, readerâs shorter than him, size kink, piv sex, masturbation, bulge kink, calls reader âloveâ, dom!soobin, sub!reader, creampie, unprotected sex, BIG dick soobin, dacryphilia, breeding kink
soobin who canât get enough of taking mirror pictures with you. gets to the point that you canât go anywhere with him that has a mirror because he will drag you to them in a second ToT its a minor inconvenience to you, sure, but for soobin, youâve just supplied his spank bank for the next week <3
because little do you know, your boyfriend loves seeing your height difference in those pictures, the way youâre barely up to his shoulder, heâs dwarfing you despite the fact that you weigh considerably more than him, gets off on the fact that he can make everything thatâs âbigâ about you seem small. your hand in his looks so tiny, three centimeter difference at least, and heâs jerking off later with the same hand that yours had been in <3 and sure you look so sexy in that lace bra of yours, you know the one, but darling, wonât you just let your boyfriend use his hands instead? and oh, he just loves keeping a hand on your thigh, fingers denting the plush of them from his grip, he loves the way he can almost hold your whole thigh in one hand đ¤Â
and vice versa, you make everything about him look big. pretty hands wrapped around his dick so prettily, fat cock barely fitting in your palm, he knows heâs big but you make it look even more so <3 and your cunt makes him look so big too, doesnât it, the way you struggle to take the girth of him in, can feel him in your stomach already and heâs not even fully inside you đ¤ fucking you for the first time and smiling at how endearingly you beg to take all of him, pressing kisses to your tear-streaked cheeks, donât wanna hurt you, let me go slow, alright, love? but when you beg him to fill you up entirely, swearing you can take it, he canât resist giving you what youâre asking for <3
has you fucked out in seconds, a dazed, glossy look about your eyes that has him going feral, fucking you harder than heâd wanted to, but anything to hear the way you scream for him, your poor neighbors are gonna know his government name by the time heâs done with you <//3 loves the way you cry underneath him, whimpering out about how his big cock makes you feel so good, wonât he fill you up all nice and pretty with his cum? your boyfriend wouldnât dare disappoint you, gonna make you all swollen and full with his babies <3
#adas hard hours#ada answers đ#adas anons <3#txt smut#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#soobin smut#soobin hard thoughts#soobin hard hours
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Cuddling with 141 (+Roach!)
Summary: How I think Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost and Roach would cuddle + little blurbs.
Word Count: ~ 2.1k
Warnings: None!
A/N: wrote this at 2amđ hope you enjoy <3
Requests are open!
Simon âGhostâ Riley đ
- Tries his hardest to act tough and scary, but only because thatâs how a Lieutenant is supposed to act. Or at least thatâs what he thinks.
- Also isnât sure how to cuddle, never saw his dad trying to do anything other than abuse his mom, and his brother was dead before he could ask him for any advice.
- As stiff as a board, has no idea what to do, just awkwardly sitting and glancing at you, increasingly concerned.
- Would eventually get the hang of it only after Johnny made fun of him for being so awful with it, did it just to spite his beloved Sergeant (also practiced cuddling with Johnny, obviously just for practice, nothing more.)
- Likes being the little spoon.
It had been one hell of a mission, 141 barely finding a safe house to rest in for a few hours and restock their weapons and ammo before having to move again. A few more hours, and though Simon knew he should be resting, he couldnât get his brain off of alert mode, so he settled for watching the game on the telly, even if it was in Spanish. He was mostly fluent, anyway.
You had plopped down next to him after a few minutes, mumbling something about cleaning your gun, taking a rag to wipe it down and try to clear it out, your hands soon slipping down as your eyes dropped.
The other boys had gone off somewhere else in the safe house, probably to find a bed or secure it further like he should be doing right now, but for whatever reason, he couldnât bring himself to stand up and shake you off.
You eventually went fully limp, head banging against his shoulder, somehow now waking you even then as you mumbled something, hand slipping towards your gunâs trigger. It was then that he moved, but not to get up, simply to gently pry the firearm from your hand as he clicked the safety on and let it drop to the floor.
The game blared in the background, but Simon was more focused on you, still leaning into him, and the fact that he was even entertaining this. His muscles were stiff, quickly growing sore and agitated at him after the constant use of the day. Slowly, he relaxed, finding that you melted into his body a lot easier when he wasnât tensed up completely.
Slowly sliding one arm around your waist, obviously just to make sure you didnât fall off the couch, nothing more, Simon leaned his head back against the couch, his own honey-brown eyes fluttering shut soon enough as he found enough peace of mind for an hour or two of rest.
Not much, but a welcome reprieve.
Johnny âSoapâ MacTavish đ§ź
- Has no shame at all. Will cuddle you during exfil in front of everyone with no care.
- Very clingy, and also a living furnace. Good to have in the winters, since he keeps you warm, but a nightmare in the summers.
- Will whine like a puppy if you refuse to cuddle with him for heat reasons or whatever, absolutely desperate, golden retriever of a man.
- Definitely see him as the type to enjoy lying on top of you, or being the big spoon, but is down to experiment with anything you want. And I mean everything. Frighteningly open to experimentation.
- Sleeps wild or like a rock, no in between.
Of course, theyâd sent Task Force 141 and their one notoriously cold-sensitive member out to Russia, staking out for any sign of a recent contract signed between them and Germany, an agreement for some form of biochemical weapon that could be catastrophic in the wrong hands.
âDoinâ alright over there, Shivers?â
You heard a Scottish voice ask from the crunchy grass you were all lying in, Gaz and Price twenty feet to your left, Ghost twenty to your right, you and Johnny right next to each other. You could see your own body shaking, feeling the ground leach out any remaining warmth from it despite your thick clothing.
âYeah, just-t-t cold.â
You saw Ghost glance back at you, probably having heard your teeth chattering from over there. You heard the radio hiss before his voice sounded.
âWhen I said stay frosty, I didnât mean it literally.â
His deadpan tone said, earning a hushed bark of laughter from Johnny, and Price shooting you a sympathetic look with Gaz. You sighed.
âVery funny-y, Ghost.â
You mumbled, not even bothering to say it over the radio. Warm palms encompassed your wrists before you could do anything to stop it, and Johnny moved in closer.
âWhatâre you-?â
âAinât gonna be any use to us as a popsicle, eh Shivers?â
You felt the weight of his body settle even closer, nearly right on top of you, gingerly taking your numb fingers and switching your gloves out with his. His gloves were already warm, and larger and kept the air insulated better. Your gloves barely fit his hands, but he didnât seem to mind. His body heat leaked into you, numb limbs springing back to life as that pinpricky sensation crawled up your body.
You relaxed a bit more into the snow, mind clearer now. Soap moved even closer, now quite literally on top of you, trying not to crush you with his weight but also keeping you nice and warm. After a moment of shifting around and adjusting, you got quite comfortable.
âThanks, Johnny.â
You mumbled, already seeing the stupid grin heâd be wearing because of the praise.
âAnytime, bonnie.â
Kyle âGazâ Garrick âď¸
- Serial cuddle enjoyer.
- Usually the one to fall asleep first because heâs more relaxed around his team. Has fallen asleep on Ghostâs shoulder before and been promptly pushed off.
- Prefers cuddling in bed over anywhere else, will slip into your bed in the middle of the night if he felt lonely or somehow has a sixth sense for you getting nightmares.
- Likes cuddling in a pretzel sort of position, or face-to-face despite the fact that he buries his head in your neck every time.
Rousing from his sleep for god knows why, Kyle rubbed his eyes, slipping from the warm bed he slept in and padding over to the kitchen to grab a drink of water. His throat was dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper. Probably the consequences of not drinking enough water while on mission, but he was in his little flat and off duty for now, so it wasnât like it mattered much anyway.
Drinking nearly an entire glass, he heard a small thug, and his sluggish brain snapped awake as instinct kicked in, he put the glass down, approaching your room where heâd heard the sound come from slowly. Your door was already open.
He peeked inside, abruptly opening it to avoid the awful tension of the slow creaks it wouldâve made had he dragged it out, only to be met with the sight of you, his roommate, curled up on the floor and sniffling.
His eyes softened and he crouched down next to you, hands moving to brush the hair out of your face as he caught sight of your watery eyes.
âWhatâs wrong?â
He asked, nearly a whisper for fear of making you jump. You sniffled again, and tried to get to your feet, only to stumble and be caught by Kyle again before being sat on the edge of the bed by him.
âHad a nightmare.â
You answered in a meek tone, seeming a bit embarrassed, which then was overridden by surprise when Kyle sat on the edge of the bed next to you, calloused hands gently shifting your body around until he was lying right next to you, his dark brown eyes gazing into yours.
âI have them too,â
He admitted, watching as you carefully slipped a hand around him, moving closer as he pulled the blanket over both of your bodies. He relaxed, tense muscles going nearly limp as his head leaned into your shoulder, his breathing deepening out as both of your eyelids grew heavy, eventually shutting as you drifted off into a peaceful rest.
John Price đˇď¸
- Is just a big bear of a man. Loves cuddling with his missus when he gets home from a mission.
- Prefers spooning, but when his joints get achy and sore heâll just lay on his back and let you lay on top of him.
- Is a human furnace just like Soap, so you probably wonât be needing a blanket.
- He usually waits until youâre asleep to fall asleep, but on the really rough nights, heâs out in a few seconds flat.
- Enjoys having your hands in his hair.
- Definitely an experienced cuddler.
Just as you finished your shower, you heard the front door unlocking and opening, and not caring much about getting proper clothes on, you rushed over and pulled a very-tired-looking John into a hug.
He chuckled, hand giving you a few little pats on the head as he pulled you in, taking a deep whiff of the smell of your body wash and shampoo, before slowly releasing.
âMissed me, huh? Missed you too, bird.â
He mumbled as you refused to let go, only releasing when he gave you a light little pinch on the arm, leaving you to finish getting ready after your shower as he trudged off to change and probably at least get a comb through his hair.
With a small smile now on your face, you hurried through your skin and haircare routines faster than ever before, throwing on some underwear and pajamas. As you walked into your shared bedroom, you found John struggling to get a knot out of his brown hair.
âLet me,â
You said, gently taking the comb from his large fingers, brushing the ends of the knot out first, working down to the center of it when you finally got it out. He took the comb and placed it down on his little desk with a little âThanks, darlinââ, then took your hand and led you over to the bed.
He crawled in first, groaning when his body was finally able to sink into the soft mattress of the bed, body aching after weeks of being gone as he laid on his back, you being quick to crawl above him, head laying against his chest.
He loosed a deep sigh, pulling the blankets over both of you despite the warmth already being shared between you two.
âMâ glad to be home.â
He muttered, pulling you closer, arms settling around you as he already began drifting off.
Smiling, you replied.
âMe too.â
Gary âRoachâ Sanderson đŞł
- I definitely hc him as nonverbal (like he is in the games, for whatever reason, you can decide why) but that doesnât mean heâs any worse at cuddling.
- Roach is a little bit of a wild sleeper, so expect a few nudges and maybe some flips from him during the night.
- Enjoys the sweetheart position the most, just because it lets him hear your heartbeat.
- Serial nuzzle enjoyer. Will nuzzle into you at any moment he can, itâs just something he really likes doing.
- Douses his pillowcases with a lethal amount of your signature perfume or what reminds him of you (has an entire candle of it, too.)
- Can be very clingy.
When you got back home from the little girlâs night youâd had, finding Gary wrapped around one of your pillows and holding it with a death grip, your favorite perfume on the bedside table and a lit candle to match in the same scent wasnât something youâd been expecting.
As soon as you walked into the room, he glanced up, beckoning you closer almost frantically. With a small smile, you held up a finger, signaling to wait for just one moment. You slipped out of the dress youâd been donning, and pulled off the shoes as well, the heels having made your feet ache anyways.
You used some basic wipes to get any makeup off, deciding that the more complicated cleansing process would be left for the morning, and promptly pulled some pajamas on, finally walking over to the bed, and being pulled in.
Within seconds, you were under the covers, and softly laughing at how he hooked one arm around the back of your neck, pulling you gently into where your head was against his chest, and intertwining his legs with yours. The scruff of his slightly unshaven face scratched lightly against you as he rubbed and nuzzled into you unashamedly, peppering a few little kisses on you while he was at it.
âClingy,â
You murmured teasingly, and he frowned for a moment, raising a brow as if to call you a hypocrite, and you hummed lightly for a moment in thought.
âTouchĂŠ.â
You said to his silent response, pressing a light kiss to the tip of his nose, before finally settling in and getting comfortable against his body. Within a few minutes, the both of you were yawning, sleep pulling both of you slowly under as the rhythm of your breathing deepened.
#writers on tumblr#roach cod#cod fanfic#cod x reader#cod mwii#soap cod#cod mw3#ghost cod#cod modern warfare#cod#gary roach sanderson#roach call of duty#johnny soap mactavish#soap x reader#roach x reader#johnny x reader#john price x reader#captain john price#captian price#captain price#simon ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#simon riley#simon ghost riley#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gaz#gaz cod
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HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!
Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)
And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion sheâs all like battered and bruided and itâs dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because iâm half asleep and dyselxic but let me knowđđ¤Ł
Maybe he says âItâs okay baby i got youâ ??? x
hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes
cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything
You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.
When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.
During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.
But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naĂŻve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.
When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.
You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.
You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.
Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.
He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.
He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.
He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.
He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.
During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.
Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.
The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.
You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.
You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.
Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.
You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.
When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.
--
When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."
The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."
Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.
You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.
The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.
As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.
You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.
Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.
"I have a plan."
"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."
Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."
You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."
Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.
"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."
--
It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.
You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.
Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.
You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?
You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.
You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?
"Hello, Y/N."
You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.
He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."
You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.
"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."
You shook your head. "No."
He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"
"No." You said again, louder.
He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."
He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.
If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.
They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.
"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."
You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.
"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"
Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.
Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.
You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.
It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.
You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.
But you knew that was just the beginning.
--
You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.
"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.
A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.
"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."
You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.
He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.
As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.
That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."
You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.
--
There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.
"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.
"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.
"Are you.. Are you really here?"
"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.
His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."
You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.
Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.
Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.
You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.
When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.
You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.
"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."
#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair#thg finnick x reader#thg finnick#finnick x reader#finnick x y/n#hunger games finnick#finnick odair angst#finnick odair smut#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair x female reader#thg headcanons#thg johanna#thg fanfic#thg fanfiction#thg rp#thg peeta#thg: intro#thg katniss#thg x reader#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#catching fire#mockingjay#katniss x peeta#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games fanfiction#the hunger games haymitch#the hunger games katniss
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{the proposal- kuroo}
on todayâs episode of ârev accidentally disregards the polls she madeâ, we have this fic :3 I actually adore this one, it was so fun to write!! hope you enjoy <3 also⌠thank you sm for 1k followers đđŤśđť thatâs huge, I appreciate everyone sm đĽš
gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. alcohol mentions, drunk reader. dialogue heavy at the start.
âYou need to propose to me.â
Kuroo, who is enjoying his drink, begins to choke. âI what?â
You roll your eyes with a barely concealed smile.
âNot for real, silly, just a fake one.â
He looks at you like youâve gone insane. âIâm not following.â
âWeâre broke university students, do you really think we can afford to pay for more than two drinks tonight? If you propose, I bet people would make a drunken mistake and offer to buy us a celebration round.â You wiggle your eyebrows at him as he continues to give you that same incredulous look.
âThatâs-â he cuts himself off before he can finish that thought and starts with a new one. âI doubt that would work. I mean, maybe at a restaurant with free dessert, but a bar? Really?â
âIâve seen it done in stranger places!â You defend yourself. âBesides, youâve been sipping on your drink for the past 25 minutes. If the ice had poison in it, youâd be dead by now,â you lean back and cross your arms.
Your boyfriend just shakes his head. âYour mind is a very interesting place. Alright, fine. Weâll do it, but if it doesnât work thatâs going to be really embarrassing. Hand me your ring, Iâll do it when more people are around.â
You only have to wait another ten minutes before a group of business men having a meeting a couple of tables over appear to be drunk enough to invest in young love.
Your boyfriend nods once to signal that heâs going to do it and soon enough heâs on one knee, fake tears forming at the corners of his eyes and a dusting of pink on his cheeks that make you want to kiss them.
(Your heart jumps that the thought that he could do this for real one day).
âYouâre the love of my life,â he begins, and you make a mental note that he either has a bright future in acting or his drink really is too strong, despite his insistence that he could handle it earlier.
A lady one table over gasps and draws more attention to the performance in front of the customers.
âAnd I absolutely adore every single thing about you. I had a whole plan for this, but with the way youâre looking tonight, I canât wait a second longer. Weâve managed to get many years together already, and Iâd be honoured to spend the rest of our lives just like this. Will you marry me?â
Youâre genuinely touched at his words and the sincerity in his tone almost makes you forget itâs fake.
Not wanting to make your audience wait much longer, you make a big show of nodding your head and jumping into his crouched form with a loud âyes!â
Drunken cheers are only background noise while you press against his chest. His heartbeat eliminates the chance of you focusing on anything but him.
Kuroo tips his head down to whisper, âthink we pulled it off?â
You nod against him and start to get up. He looks over to see one of the drunk business men coming over to greet you.
âCongratulations on your engagement! Let us buy the happy couple some drinks!â
The manâs face is flushed and he gestures to his table. âOrder whatever youâd like, itâll be put on our tab.â
You fake surprise. âOh my goodness, thatâs very generous of you, but we could never take advantage of your kindness like that!â
Beside you, your âfiancĂŠâ stifles a laugh but the man doesnât notice. âNo, I insist! You should celebrate.â
This time Kuroo takes over. âAh⌠well, thank you, sir. Rest assured we wonât go too crazy.â
The man laughs and claps him on the back. âWhat a polite couple of kids you are! Reminds me of me and my wife,â he winks before heading back to his table, whistling some tune.
You spin around and look up at your boyfriend with a smug grin. âSo what are we getting first?â
A couple of hours later, youâre both stumbling into your campus apartment, giggling and trying to shush each other despite not having any other roommates.
You somehow manage to get through your night routines and fall back into your bed soon after. Youâre a far more wasted than Kuroo is (he always drinks less than you to be able to take care of you), so he tries to get you to sip on some water.
He watches you with a silly grin as you fiddle with your âengagementâ ring. Youâve since slipped it back onto your index finger where it originally was this evening, but you move it back to your ring finger and fiddle with it.
âI thinkâŚâ your words are slightly slurred and laced with sleep. âI mean, I know⌠that I donât want my real engagement ring to be diamond.â
His grin widens so much his cheeks begin to hurt. âNo? So what will it be, baby?â
You form your own smile. âIâm sure Iâll love whatever you come up with. You know me best after all.â
He forces you to take another sip of water when your words donât get any less coherent. While you drink he thinks of the ruby ring tucked away somewhere at Kenmaâs house. Youâre far too good at sniffing out clues and heâs never been good at keeping secrets from you.
Youâre still in university, itâs far too soon to get engaged for real- youâve both always said you wanted to wait until youâre done with school- but heâs been saving up for that ring since high school. heâs always knows you would be the one for him.
So when the time comes heâll be ready. With a speech much better than whatever he said tonight.
âAlright, letâs get some sleep. Youâre going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, you havenât had that much to drink in a while.â
You tug at his wrist before he can shut the lamp off. âWait, donât you want to celebrate our engagement?â
âSleep, baby.â
You pout a bit. âDonât you think we celebrated enough tonight?â
You stare at him and he sighs. âThereâs plenty of time for celebrating our fake engagement some more tomorrow,â he shuts the lamp off and wrangles you down with him. âNow itâs time for sleep.â
ââm not tired,â you mumble, obviously lying. âI could go all night.â
You settle onto your pillow and he strokes your cheek. âI know, sweetheart, youâre a fighter.â
You nod as you begin to doze off.
He notices the ring still on your finger and he smiles softly.
The hangover youâll be sporting tomorrow will definitely have been worth it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ty for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed <3
tagging: @emmyrosee @luvring @dira333 @tetzoro
#kuroo x reader#kuroo x reader fluff#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo fluff#kuroo tetsurou x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader fluff#haikyuu x gender neutral reader
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Pretty pleeeease some nightcrawler smut with a more sub!nightcrawler?đ Or just reader spoiling him and calling him a pretty boy, praising him, etc
A/N: say no more... ( ͥ° ÍĘ ÍĄÂ°) Pairing: Kurt Wagner x gn!Reader Tags: nsfw, oral sex (giving), praise, and just pure smut
Nothing but Praise
It was late into the night at the X-Mansion, the usual sounds of mutant powers and training sessions replaced by a serene silence. You were in the library, a book open on your lap, but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts kept drifting to Kurt, the enigmatic Nightcrawler, whose presence had become a constant in your daydreams.
As if summoned by your thoughts, Kurt appeared in a puff of smoke and brimstone right beside you. His sudden arrival startled you, causing you to drop your book with a soft thud.
"Kurt! You really need to stop doing that," you chided gently, though there was no real heat in your words.
He offered a sheepish grin, his blue fur shimmering slightly under the library's soft lighting. "Sorry, mein Freund. I forget sometimes how my teleportation can startle."
You shook your head, smiling as you picked up your book. "It's okay. What brings you here so late?"
Kurt hesitated, his tail flicking nervously behind him. "I... I could not sleep. Thought maybe I could find a book to help pass the time."
You noticed the slight tremor in his voice, the vulnerability hidden beneath his playful exterior. "Come here," you said softly, patting the seat next to you.
Kurt sat down, his proximity sending a thrill through you. You could see the fatigue around his eyes, the weight of recent battles and missions taking their toll.
"You know, Kurt," you began, turning to face him, "you don't have to be strong all the time. It's okay to let someone take care of you."
His yellow eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and something deeper, something yearning. "I... I do not know how to be anything else," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You reached out, gently touching his cheek. "Let me show you," you whispered back, your thumb brushing against his fur.
Kurt's breath hitched, and he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. When he opened them again, they were filled with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. "Ich verstehe nicht, was du willst," he murmured, his German accent thickening with emotion.
"I want to spoil you, Kurt," you explained, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. "I want to tell you how amazing you are, how beautiful."
His tail wrapped around your wrist, a silent plea for reassurance. "Really?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
"Really," you confirmed, leaning closer. "You deserve to be praised, to be taken care of. Let me be the one to do that for you."
Kurt's eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of insincerity. Finding none, a slow smile spread across his face. "Then show me, bitte," he whispered, his voice husky with anticipation.
You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "With pleasure, pretty boy," you murmured against his skin, feeling him shiver at the term of endearment.
As you pulled back, you saw the trust and desire in his eyes, a promise of what was to come. Tonight, you would show Kurt just how much he meant to you, in ways neither of you would ever forget.
You led Kurt to a more secluded corner of the library, where plush armchairs and a soft rug promised comfort. The dim light cast shadows that danced around you, creating an intimate atmosphere. None of the other students were permitted in the library this late, so it was just the two of you.
"Kurt, you're not just strong or brave," you began, your voice low and soothing as you sat down, pulling him gently onto your lap. His body was surprisingly light, his tail coiling around your leg in a silent affirmation of trust. "You're also incredibly gentle and kind. It's one of the many things I adore about you."
He looked at you, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and pleasure. "Danke, mein Freund," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Ich... ich weiĂ nicht, wie ich soll..."
"Shh," you whispered, placing a finger on his lips. "Let me do the talking for now. You just enjoy being taken care of."
You ran your hands through his fur, feeling the softness under your fingers. Kurt leaned into your touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Encouraged by his response, you continued, your hands moving down to massage his shoulders. He tensed briefly before relaxing under your ministrations, his head falling back slightly.
"You're so beautiful, Kurt," you said, your voice husky with desire. "Every part of you is perfect."
His cheeks darkened under his fur, a shy smile playing on his lips. "Du bist zu gut zu mir," he whispered, his eyes half-closed in pleasure.
You leaned in, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. He responded eagerly, his tongue darting out to meet yours. The kiss deepened, filled with a passion that had been simmering between you both for too long. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless.
"I want to make you feel good, Kurt," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Tell me what you like."
Kurt hesitated, then spoke softly, his German accent making each word sound like a melody. "Ich mag es, wenn du mich streichelst, und deine Zunge auf meiner Haut... you-your tongue, Liebling. Just... anywhere on me."
You nodded, understanding his desires. You began by trailing kisses down his neck, each one eliciting a shiver from him. Your hands roamed over his chest, tweaking his nipples gently, causing him to gasp.
"Ah, ja... genau so," Kurt moaned, his voice a mix of pleasure and desperation.
Encouraged, you moved lower, unzipping his jumpsuit slowly. His chest heaved with anticipation as you exposed more of his blue skin. You kissed every inch of newly revealed flesh, your hands caressing his sides.
"You're doing so well, pretty boy," you praised, watching as his eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping him.
You reached his erection, already hard and straining against his suit. With a gentle tug, you freed it, admiring its size and shape. Kurt whimpered, his hands clenching in the fabric of the armchair.
"Suck me, bitte," he pleaded, his voice shaky with need.
Without hesitation, you moved in front of him, letting him take the chair as you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking him slowly. Then, you leaned in, taking him into your mouth. Kurt cried out, his hips bucking slightly as you took him deeper.
"Mein Gott, du bist so gut," he gasped, his hands tangling in your hair.
You bobbed your head, swirling your tongue around him, enjoying the taste and feel of him. Each moan and plea only spurred you on, eager to bring him closer to the edge.
As Kurt's moans grew louder, his body tensing with the impending climax, you knew this was just the beginning of a night filled with exploration and pleasure.
You continued to lavish attention on Kurt, your mouth working diligently around his shaft as you felt his body tense with each passing moment. His hands gripped your hair, guiding you gently but firmly, a silent command for more intensity. You complied, increasing the pace of your movements, your tongue swirling and flicking in ways that made him gasp and moan.
"Ah, mein Gott... du bist wirklich gut dabei," Kurt panted, his voice thick with desire and a hint of awe. His tail tightened around your leg, a physical sign of his growing pleasure.
You pulled back slightly, teasing the tip of his erection with the flat of your tongue, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. "You like that, pretty boy?" you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes.
Kurt nodded, his eyes half-lidded and filled with lust. "Ja, bitte, mehr," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.
Satisfied, you engulfed him again, this time taking him deeper than before. Your hand moved to cup his balls, gently rolling them between your fingers as you sucked. Kurt's hips bucked involuntarily, caught in the throes of pleasure you were expertly weaving around him.
"Du... du bringst mich um," he gasped, his body trembling as he neared his peak.
You hummed around him, the vibrations adding another layer to his building climax. With one final, deep suck, you pulled back, letting him slip from your lips with an audible pop. Kurt's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes wide and unfocused.
"Not yet, Kurt," you whispered, your voice a sultry tease. "I want to feel you come undone completely."
Standing up, you guided him to lie down on the soft rug, his body compliant under yours. You straddled him, your hands roaming over his chest, tweaking and pinching his nipples until he moaned beneath you.
"Please, I need... I need to feel you," Kurt begged, his hands reaching up to pull you down for a kiss.
You obliged, kissing him deeply as your hands moved lower, teasing the sensitive skin around his erection. You stroked him slowly, watching as his face contorted with pleasure, his mouth forming silent words of encouragement and praise.
"Tell me what you want, Kurt," you whispered against his lips, your hand stilling.
"I need you, I need to feel you," he breathed out, his eyes locked onto yours, pleading.
Understanding his desire, you positioned yourself above him, gripping his shaft to line it inside of you. His precum coated your fingers and it was enough to coat yourself for him before letting him enter you.
"Ready, pretty boy?" you asked, your voice husky with anticipation.
Kurt nodded, his hands gripping your hips. "Ja, bitte, tu es," he urged.
With a slow, deliberate movement, you rolled your hips, feeling him deep inside of you. Kurt's breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed as he tilted his head back in pure ecstasy. You gasped, your own breath shallow with the effort of holding back.
Once Kurt nodded, you began to move, slowly at first, then picking up speed as he moaned and encouraged you. Each thrust brought him deeper into you, the friction building deliciously between you.
"Mein Gott, du fĂźhlst so gut," Kurt cried out, his hands moving to your back, urging you closer.
You leaned down, capturing his lips in a fierce kiss, your movements becoming more urgent. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, mingling with Kurt's increasingly desperate cries.
As you felt your own climax approaching, you bit back another moan, biting your lips as the sight of Kurt panting and nearly crying from pleasure nearly sent you over the edge.
"Cum for me, Kurt," you commanded, your voice rough with desire.
Kurt cried out, his body arching off the ground as he came, his release spurting between you as he pulled out. The sight of him losing control sent you over the edge, and you stroked yourself a few more times just before climaxing, your own cry echoing his.
Collapsing beside him, you pulled him close, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat and other fluids. Kurt nuzzled into your neck, murmuring soft thanks and praises in German, his voice content and sated.
"Anytime, pretty boy," you whispered back, kissing the top of his head. "Anytime."
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omgg g!p yunjin x stripper!reader..(im sorry i donât have more :( my mind is so blank with thoughts rn..đâšď¸)
special treatment
cw nsfw under cut, g!p yunjin, female reader, unprotected sex, light praise, not extreme dom/sub dynamics sorry , n respect sex work !
yunjin was definitely dreaming.
she drank too much on her birthday, and she passed out and was now dreaming of the best fucking night of her life.
because there was no way you were on top of her, grinding against her clothed boner along to the song playing.
âum, what song is this?â yunjin breathes out, hips rutting up to meet yours. you donât tell her to stop.
you giggle, hand moving from the back of the couch and reaching behind your back, tugging on a string of your tiny top. her cock twitches under you as your breasts fall out of your top, slipping it off fully. âdo you wanna touch me?â
she doesnât realize you said anything until a few seconds later, âi- whaâ? isnât that against the rules?â but she canât deny that she wants to, and so she does.
âyeah,â you moan out as she pinches your nipple experimentally. âbut i like you, so you get special treatment.â
yunjin likes the feeling your words give her, feeling much more confident than she had been before. she swallows, glancing from your eyes to your breasts. she reaches down and takes your nipple into her warm mouth without warning, back arching into her as your hips go faster.
her free hand alternates between groping your tit and pinching and lightly twisting your nipple, which did more for you than you thought it would. you let out a whimper, hand tugging on her hair to break her away from your chest and pulling her into a series of messy kisses, moaning in each otherâs mouths.
âdo you do this with all your clients?â she whispers in between kisses, pulling back to look at you with heavy eyelids. a string of saliva connects the two of you and you follow it to give her another kiss.
âjust the pretty ones,â you smile slightly, raising off of her despite her hands falling to your waist to pull you back down. âwait,â you say, tugging your bottoms down your legs and kicking them to the side.
heat pools at the bottom of your stomach as you watch yunjin watch you undress, allowing her to pull you back down on her. your tits are right in her face, which she takes the opportunity to start littering kisses and sucking on your tits.
lowering yourself back down on her, the roughness of her jeans on your bare pussy makes you throw your head back. you donât want friction burn so youâre glad to unzip her jeans and pull her cock out.
the size of her cock was much larger than it appeared under her jeans. you feel faint just by looking at it. itâs long, and thick to where you know youâd feel every ridge of a vein dragging against your walls.
you donât waste another second, pushing her down on the couch and dragging the head of her cock through your folds, coating it in your arousal.
yunjin groans, âfucking tease,â before sheâs slamming you down and bucking her hips simultaneously.
a choked half gasp, half moan left your lips, âoh fuck-â you began bouncing up and down, the mushroomy head slamming into your gummy walls. âah, ah, ah-â
âshit, shit, shit!â yunjin shakes her head, feeling you squeeze around her. âi, fuck- youâre doing so good, baby. such a good girl for me, huh?â you donât know what the fuck switched up in her, but the praise made you keen, pressing your chest against her clothed one. the rough fabric of her shirt rubs against your nipples, making you whimper.
âlook at you,â sheâs murmuring absentmindedly, fingers coming to rub circles in your clit. âso eager to please.â
âplease, please,â you let out a pathetic noise, leaning back to rest your hands on her knees. the new angle forces a loud moan out of both of your lips, hitting exactly at your sweet spot. in your haste to your orgasm, her cock slips out of you a couple times which she quickly slides it back in.
âplease, what, baby?â sheâs gripping your hips tightly to where you just know there will be bruises. the thought of her leaving her mark on you makes you throw your head back, your ass and her thighs slapping together.
âcan i come? please please please plea-â
âcome,â yunjin forces out before she shoots a long stream of warm cum in you, painting your walls. the coil in your stomach snaps and youâre coming undone around her cock with a loud moan.
you gasp for breath, chest heaving as you fall back on your elbows and slipping out of her. you both hiss as the loss, but you remain laying on your back. your eyes close, deciding to catch your breath and get your strength back before you get back up.
it takes yunjin a minute to come back to earth. she warily blinks, sitting up and spotting you on the other side of the couch, resting your head on the arm. she lightly taps your arm, â⌠are you okay?â
âfantastic,â you hum absentmindedly, âjust tired.â you lift your head up, despite your words and say, âare you okay?â
yunjin laughs lightly, feeling her cheeks burn, âyesâ yeah. you were ⌠really good.â
âthanks,â you smile, spotting your top and bottoms at two opposite sides of the room and stand up to get them.
yunjin looks away out of respect.
as you slip them on, yunjin pulls her jeans back up and reaches over to her purse on the ground, getting the correct amount of money.
as she goes to hand it to you, she doesnât expect you to pull her in a kiss by her shirt. she gasps softly but quickly falls into the kiss, only for you to pull back a second after. she leans forward to kiss you again, but you giggle and push her back lightly.
âwhat was that?â she blinks.
âa kiss,â you smile cutely, an expression she hasnât seen on you before. she thinks youâre even prettier when you smile genuinely and not just for show. âto tell you to come back.â
yunjin doesnât get a chance to respond as the door opens, revealing the bouncer. he doesnât pay attention to your disheveled appearances, simply saying, âsessionâs over,â and leaving the door open when he leaves.
before you can completely follow him out, her voice stops you, âi was going to come back, anyway.â
you choose not to respond, glancing over your shoulder and winking before you turn out the door.
#yunjin.txt#lsf.txt#writing.txt#yunjin smut#le sserafim smut#le sserafim imagines#le sserafim x reader#kpop smut#kpop gg smut#kpop girl group smut#le sserafim#huh yunjin#heo yunjin#jennifer huh#yunjin x reader#huh yunjin x reader#kpop gg imagines#kpop girl group imagines#gg smut#girl group smut#le sserafim hard hours#le sserafim hard thoughts
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it always leads to you ŕż
pairing: simon riley x reader
genre: dadâs best friend au, fluff, smut, a touch of angst
cw: smut - this is 18+ minors dni, age gap (ghost is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s), fem!reader, reader is implied to be shorter than ghost, unprotected sex (bad idea!!!!!), praise kink (excessive use of âgood girlâ), oral (m & f receiving), face-fucking (heâs gentle abt it), ummmm a man that is Not ghost makes unwanted sexual advances, small mention of blood (someone gets a cut on their forehead). please lmk if i missed anything !!!!!!
summary: coming home for the holidays is both a blessing and a curse â cheesy music, bittersweet nostalgia, and simon riley, your fatherâs best friend and the man youâve had a stupidly big crush on for years.
authorâs note: hiii!! um a Few things . firstly, i seldom write smut & when i do i never post it. i have put off posting this for so long bc i was so nervous â it was originally meant to be a christmas gift to u guys đđ n e ways we Prevail. also i despite being Obsessed w him iâve never written for ghost !!!! i want to do soo much more for him & the other cod men, so if u have any reqs/ideas, my asks are always open !!! love u guys soooooo much i hope i enjoy ! đđ
word count: 11k (sorry đ)
credits: title is from tis the damn season by taylor swift, and the beauuuutifullll render/edit of ghost is by user dwisesz on twitter!
before you met him, youâd heard endless stories. for as long as you could remember, your father recounted tales of his friend âghostâ from the army. every time he came back from deployment, thereâd be something new â ghostâs snipe from 2,700 meters away, ghost making your dad laugh so hard beer came out of his nose, ghost making a new recruit cry simply by staring at them.
there were others, of course, too; gaz, who your father had quite the soft spot for; john, who quickly became your favourite when you met him a few years ago and he snuck you a sip of wine at dinner; soap, who was new to the team but had enough passion to carry an entire army on his back.
ghost, though â he was your dadâs favourite. though he claimed to be too honourable for favourites, the way your father spoke about him made it clear. a simultaneous respect and affection woven through every recounted story.
it was a shock you didnât meet him until your freshman year of college. your father and ghostâs leave fell around the same time, and your father had invited him to stay with your family. your father never revealed much about ghostâs history, but you knew it was dark and splattered with blood. he was alone now, and though he claimed he preferred it that way, heâd accepted your fatherâs invitation.
from your bedroom, youâd heard the front door creak open, and without so much as a breath you were bounding down the stairs, bare feet smacking against the hardwood. your father was in the midst of putting down his bags when you threw your arms around him. âdad!â
he reciprocated immediately, pulling you tightly against him. âhi, honey. i missed you.â
as you pulled back, he patted your head, and you spotted a shadow along the floor. following it toward the still-open door, you found a broad, menacing figure, blocking most of the sunlight. he was nearly as wide as the doorway, and the top of his head just barely made it under the threshold. over his face was hidden by a black balaclava with the faint impression of a skull along the front, faded with age and use. despite the endless stories, you were immediately intimidated, and stepped closer to your father.
your dad squeezed your arm, chuckling. âlieutenant, this is my daughter.â
looking between the two of you, simon took a slow step forward, and extended his hand. his movements were careful, like you were a wild animal he didnât want to spook.
hesitating briefly, you slipped your hand into his. the warmth of ghostâs hand bled through the gloves he wore as he squeezed yours once. ânice to meet you, sweetheart.â
âitâs nice to meet you, um, mr ghost.â you had to crane your neck to look him in the eye.
a low, raspy chuckle rumbled from his chest, and beneath the balaclava, his eyes creased into tiny half-moons. âjust simon is fine, love.â
and, really, he didnât even give you a chance. there was no warning, no preamble. in an instant, fear ignited into something far more dangerous â attraction.
with a warm stomach, you smiled, and tried your hardest to keep it from growing too wide. âright. um. simon. yes.â you bit your cheek. âiâve heard a lot about you.â
finally releasing your hand, he murmured, âterrible things, i assume.â his wink was quick and cheeky and certainly wasnât meant to release a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, and yet . . .
âmostly,â you joked, and beside you, your father laughed. it was a rude awakening â ice water splashed over your silly little daydream. this man was only a few years younger than your father â in no universe would he give you a chance, and in no world should you want him to.
as quickly and as unassumingly as you could, you excused yourself, claiming you were in the middle of packing â which was mostly true. you were due on campus in less than two weeks, and if you didnât start now, youâd leave it until the night before and end up forgetting something.
initially, youâd dreaded spending two weeks under the same roof as simon. it was a surefire plan to end up embarrassing yourself, because youâd never really been able to act normally around a crush, especially one in the shape of a 6-foot-whatever behemoth. yet, as the days went on, that dread steadily began to lift. despite your school girl crush, simon was easy to talk to. a lot of the time he was quiet, but his eyes never wavered from you, listening intently and humming where it mattered. he was fun, too â he recommended good movies, took you shopping while your father ran errands, taught you the best places to hit a man if one attacked you.
(a picture of simon, dramatically curled up in pain after youâd accidentally kicked him in the balls during a lesson now sits in your phoneâs âfavouritesâ folder).
two weeks went by far too quickly, and before you knew it, your dad and simon were lugging your belongings up and into your dorm. not a single bag was left for you â you were tasked with the important duty of telling them what went where. when all was said and done, simon handed you a tiny piece of paper with a ten-digit number scrawled messily across it.
âin case you ever need me,â he explained, warm brown eyes peering at you beneath terribly long lashes. âi know your dadâs always there, but â just in case.â
then, heâd patted your head and squeezed your shoulder, murmuring a, âgood luck, kid.â
and, though he was lovely to look at and talk with and exist around, you knew it would never be anything more. no matter how desperately a silly little part of you wished it. he spent time with you because he didnât have anyone else. never had a daughter or a niece to spoil or playfight with. it was endearing, the way he interacted with you. wholesome and innocent and if that was all youâd ever get, youâd be happy.
â ââĄŕźâ â
college was a lot. it was simultaneously the best and worst time of your life, passing by at both a snailâs and bulletâs pace. somehow, you ended up halfway through your final year. the holidays had rolled around, leaving you on a train, weaving over the tracks as you made your way back home.
in the years youâd been away, youâd kept in contact with simon. he joined your family for every holiday, and beyond that, you texted him often. sent him photos of your proudest grades, spirit days, or yummy meals. heâd even occasionally text you first, asking how your classes were going, if it was raining there like it was here, if you got home safe on the nights he knew you went out.
the landlord heâd rented his shitty apartment from ended up selling the place and simon had to relocate, finding a place only a few minutes from your dadâs. they loved to bug you, now â sending selfies and videos. to occupy themselves on their offtime, theyâd opened a car repair shop together, and it only got worse.
you werenât supposed to be home until tomorrow, but you were feeling homesick and your bags were already packed. before long, you were stepping out of a taxi, bags in hand, and ambling up to the shop.
the reception area was tiny, sweetly decorated for the holidays and playing some generic christmas station. leaning against the desk was soap, slyly flirting with the blushing woman behind it.
his eyes lit up upon seeing you. âthe fuckâre you doinâ âere, lass?â he questioned far too loudly. immediately, you shushed him, and he caught on. âooh, i love surprises. theyâre back in the garage, workinâ away. yâwant me tâfilm it?â
giggling, you shook your head, accepting the quick side hug he gave you. when you slipped through the garage door â opening it bit by bit, never too quickly lest it creak, soap returned to the customer.
the garage was stocked with cars in disrepair and various parts you couldnât name if your life depended on it. the stench of motor oil, cigar smoke, and antifreeze stung your nose as you made your way over, where simon was wheeled beneath a car, thick thighs flexed inside oil-stained jeans. your father was turned away from you, bent over a shoddy metal table table and observing an array of papers. an ancient radio sat next to them, croaking out a rock song from your childhood.
âone of these days, iâm gonna teach you to use spotify,â you called, voice bouncing off the cement walls and ceiling.
a bang proceeded your words, and in the same instant, your father turned around, exclaiming your name and wrapping you in the worldâs tightest bear-hug.
âwe were supposed to pick you up tomorrow!â he said, voice muffled to your ears beneath the suffocating squeeze of his arms.
âfigured iâd surprise you,â you supplied, stepping back from his grasp once it loosened. immediately after, you were enveloped by simon, who stunk of grease, cheap cologne, and tobacco. you inhaled; it was lovely.
âmy favourite college student,â he murmured into the top of your head. âhow yâbeen, trouble?â
when you pulled away, a dark splotch caught your eye. a small but growing patch of blood stained the top of his balaclava, turning the black fabric a murky shade of brown.
âshit! youâre bleeding!â you yelped, stepping away from him and searching your surroundings â there wasnât much for medical supplies in a garage.
beside you, your dad was laughing; a deep, wheezy sound. âdid yâhit your head?â
simon grunted, shooting you a playful glare. âif college doesnât work out, kid, yâve got an easy spot on the one-four-one. youâre quiet as a mouse. scared the shit outta me.â
despite yourself, you snorted. âiâll keep that in mind. dâyou guys have any bandaids?â
âthereâs some in the office. bottom drawer of my desk,â your father replied, voice tinged with amusement.
âthank you, dad. simon, come. i took a first-aid course in high school.â
obediently, simon followed, keeping just a step behind as you moved through the garage. from his table, your father called, âweâre going out for dinner tonight, donât make plans!â
âsir yes sir!â
simon and your fatherâs office was a small room just off the garage. carpeted, with off-white walls and dusty blinds letting in yellowish rays of sunlight. dusty photos hung from the wall; a few of you and your father; the 141; a german shepherd simon adored.
moving to the desk, you bent over and dug through the mountain of junk in the bottom drawer. the box of bandaids was shoved into the corner, bent and creased. simon copied your movements, rounding the desk and sitting on the worn desk chair.
âdâyou know if you have anything to clean it with? hydrogen peroxide, saline, any kind of antiseptic?â you questioned, opening the drawer above it, which contained only invoices and a chequebook.
humming, simon stood, moving to the cabinet and pulling out a bottle of whiskey. at the roll of your eyes, he chuckled. âit works, doesnât it?â
âi suppose it does,â you replied, collecting the fast food napkins youâd spotted while searching for the bandaids. then, after heâd sat once more, you softy placed your fingers at the bottom of simonâs balaclava. âmay i?â
whenever simonâs eyes met yours, your breath hitched. every single time. whether it was because of that stupid crush that never went away or because his gaze were simply so intense, like an entire world existed within small pools of deep brown. pulling you in, drowning you. it was impossible to look away.
again, he hummed, granting you permission. gently, you rolled the fabric up, revealing his face inch by inch. this wouldnât be the first time youâd seen his face â he spent far too much time around you to hide it. he still wore it more often than not, though, and every time he bothered to tug it off, it was like seeing it for the first time. roman nose, full lips, the scar across his brow, the prickly dusting of facial hair along his jaw. it was a shame he hated photographs â youâd frame it if you had any less sanity.
in your distraction, the tension had grown thick, humming in the silence of the room. clearing your throat, you took the whiskey from him, turning it over in your hands. âthis stuff is shit.â
his face twisted. âhow the hell dâyou know what whiskey tastes like?â
snorting, you uncapped the bottle, and began to soak the corner of a napkin. âyâknow, riley, iâve been legal for a while now.â
his lip twitched, forming a crooked smile. âi know. itâs hard not to. yâkeep growing. every time i see you, youâre . . .â
he trailed off. placing a gentle hand on his forehead, you tilted his head backward, and began to gently wipe at the cut. âiâm what?â
imperceptibly, he shook his head, careful not to jostle you. âmore of a woman.â
you barked a laugh at that, and his smile grew. âmore of a woman? what does that mean? i had tits when i met you, simon.â
simon rolled his eyes. âthatâs not â what i meant. youâre . . . not a kid. youâre meaner now, for one.â
resuming the cleaning of his wound, you pouted. âmean? you wound me. maybe iâm just not scared of you anymore.â
âno, youâre not mean. always been a sweetheart.â his eyes fluttered shut beneath your ministrations. âyou were scared of me?â
you giggled, and placed the bloodied napkin in the trash. then, you dug out a bandaid. âno, not really. nervous, maybe. intimidated.â
âis my handsome face really so daunting?â
this time, your laugh was lacklustre â heâd hit the nail straight on the head. âyouâre bigfoot in a skull mask. before you spoke, i was a bit nervous.â
âbut youâre not? now?â
peeling the parchment from the back of the bandaid, you met his gaze. âno. why would i be?â
this time, it was simon that looked away. you delicately placed the band-aid over the cut, before he said, âthank you, angel.â
you smiled, and, like you were drunk of the proximity of him, placed a quick, daring kiss to the band-aid. âif i wasnât such a generous nurse, iâd say you owe me. youâre lucky.â
simon breathed laugh, and if you didnât know better, youâd think the tops of his cheeks were pink. clenching and unclenching his jaw, he murmured, âlucky indeed.â
â ââĄŕźâ â
in hindsight, believing your high school friends were capable of growing up was one of your less intelligent ideas. call it boredom or stupidity, but when a few of your old friends invited you out to the bar, you were compelled to accept.
it, unsurprisingly, went dreadfully. the first half of the night was fine â the first round of shots was purchased by one of the sweeter ones. you caught up over murky-coloured cocktails, swapping stories about your new lives and reminiscing over your old ones. the alcohol warmed your skin and loosened your limbs. the night went on and the amount of patrons doubled; you recognized a lot of them from old classes or bus rides or kindergarten friendships.
a boy from high school, one that hadnât said a single nice thing to you in the entire four years, approached you with something that was supposed to be a smirk. you were polite at first, nodding along to his slurred words, exhaling when he attempted a joke. he dragged a hand over your thigh, and when you shifted away he easily followed. you excused yourself, muttering something about using the restroom, and he took it as an invitation.
âyâlike it public, huh? never took you as the type,â he garbled, sliding off the barstool and following your movements. âi like whatever you like, baby.â
âno, i â actually need to pee,â you stated, glancing around the bar for your lost friends. he stared at you for a long minute, eyes narrowing.
âmm, fine. iâll â iâll pull up my car, we can head back to my place.â
âno, iââ you began, eyeing his sleazy grin and glazed-over leer. âi donât want to go home with you. iâm not interested. iâm sorry.â
it takes a few moments for him to wrap his head around your words; each one spelled out across his face as itâs processed. finally, his expression twisted into a sneer.
âshouldâve fuckinâ known not to waste my time with you,â he barked, unfocused eyes glaring daggers at you. âonce a whore always a whore, huh?â
the most embarrassing part of this was the tears. you didnât let him see them â too prideful to let them fall before you muttered a âfuck you,â and escaped out the side door.
the night air was freezing, twinged with the sharp bite of early winter. without a jacket or alcohol â youâd sobered up as soon as his hand touched your leg â to warm you, you were left hugging yourself, digging your phone out of your purse.
you could have sobbed when a red battery symbol lights up the screen, before flickering back off, dead. you just might have had you not spotted a pay-phone a few meters away.
there were only a few coins in your purse. had it not been kept for just-in-case situations like these, there would be none at all. shoving a few into the coin slot, you dial the number youâd had memorized from childhood.
it rang several times, wind whistling in your other ear, before your fatherâs voice stated, âsorry, canât reach the phone. leave a message.â
a choked sound left your throat. what the hell were you supposed to do? most of your friends had split off into tiny sub-groups, and you were too ashamed to ask any of them for a ride. there was the option of asking a bartender to call a cab, though the idea of that was, for no real reason, profusely embarrassing. then, you remembered the one other phone number youâd memorized.
you donât really know why â there was no reason for you to remember it, especially over any other phone number. yet, when heâd handed you that crumbled sheet of paper, your eyes had traced over the shapes of the numbers, and for some reason committed them to memory with no further effort.
whatever the reason was, you didnât feel like questioning it. you were merely thankful you did. with cold fingertips, you pressed the digits into the payphone.
he picked up on the fourth ring. âwhoâs this?â was the greeting.
âitâs me,â you replied, and you barely were able to finish saying your name before he was cutting you off.
âwhatâs wrong? are you alright?â
huffing a quiet laugh, you said, ââm fine, simon. i justââ you sighed, clutching the phone tighter in your hand. âi went out with my friends, anâ iâiâm just not having a good time. i tried to call my dad, but itâs past ten, so heâs passed out. iâm sorryââ
âwhere are you?â he asked, and there was a rustling in the background.
there were only a few bars in townâhe knew immediately where this one was. âiâm on my way, iâll be there in ten. are you in a safe spot, sweetheart?â
âiâm in a telephone booth. my phone died.â
âof course it did. would you be willing to go in anâ ask the bartender to use the phone?â
âno.â
âalright. okay. just stay on the line with me then, okay? dâyou have any extra change, in case yârun outta minutes?â
âyeah. i should be good. iâmâlisten, si, iâm really sorryââ
âif i hear that word come outta yâr mouth again weâre gonna have issues,â he said, and you laughed despite yourself. ââm glad you called. now iâll get tâsee your pretty face.â
a girlish giggle sounded from your chest, and if it werenât so damn cold, you mightâve been embarrassed. âi hate bars.â
âyâgo to the wrong ones,â he replied. âone day iâll take you out to one of my favourites. show you a decent drink.â
âmy drinks are decent,â you argued. there was a whooshing sound on the line, and you panicked. âyouâre not driving your motorcycle, are you?â
âdidnât have anything else with me,â he said. âyâgot a problem with my harley, trouble?â
âyour harley is a death machine.â
simon chuckled. âiâll drive slow with you.â
âyou should be driving slow now.â
another laugh. âiâll be there in three.â
âsimon!â you admonished. âyou said ten!â
âthat was four minutes ago.â
shaking your head, you said, âyour lack of self-preservation should be studied.â
in the few seconds he took to reply, your teeth clacked together, and simon swiftly asked, âare you chattering?â
your lack of response served as one on its own, and he continued, âdoll, whatâre you wearing in this telephone booth?â
âum,â you started, chewing your bottom lip. âa skirt.â
âand a jacket?â
âuh.â
âchrist,â he swore. âyour lack of self-preservation should be studied. itâs not even 5° out.â
âjackets are a lot of work to carry around in a bar,â you argued, though you knew it was fruitless. âand i wasnât really planning on spending any time in a telephone booth.â
âyâshould always prepare for the worst,â he stated. âwhat if i hadnât picked up, hm?â
âyou always pick up.â
for a short moment, the other line was quiet, with only the quiet whoosh of the wind brushing past the speakers. then, âyeah, i do.â
the way he said it â so tenderly, like an admission â had any response dying on your tongue. your heart felt oddly warm, and didnât quite know what to do with yourself, curling and uncurling the phone cord around your fingers.
ââm here, trouble,â simon said, saving you from further awkward silence. a headlight glared against the glass of the phone booth, hallowing fingerprints and rain stains. squeaking out an, âokay,â you hung up the phone with a click and stepped out.
he was off his motorcycle already, immediately tugging off his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders before pulling you against him.
âgod, youâre a fuckinâ ice cube, sweetheart,â he said. he held you like that for a while, arms wrapped so tightly around your frame that you worried youâd morph into him. not that you minded â he was warm.
afterwards, simon cupped your cheeks, tilting your head upward as he examined you, as if you were ill or injured. furrowing his brow, he asked, âwere you crying?â
you attempted to look away, ashamed, but in his grip it proved futile. ânot much.â
âwhat happened?â he asked, and there was something in his voice, laced in the low rumble of it, that sounded threatening. it wasnât meant for you, that was clear â heâd never direct anything hostile toward you. before he had even the barest idea of who or what made you cry, he was already furious at it.
âitâs nothing.â
âtell me,â he demanded. then, softer, âplease. i just â need to know.â
moving your gaze from a far-off shape in the night towards his, you were unable to keep it from him. âiâthis guy. i went to high school with him.â
a spark lit his gaze. âwhatâd he do?â
for a few breaths, you were quiet, trying to sort the words into something only mildly wrath-inducing. âhe wanted, um, to take me home. i didnât want to. he got upset.â
the spark caught, lighting his gaze into a furious blaze. even beneath the balaclava, you could see his jaw clench. he stepped away from you and set on a warpath toward the bar.
âsimonâno,â you yelped, hurrying to catch up with him. it was a difficult taskâyour shoes werenât comfortable and his long legs moved swiftly. finally, you caught his leather sleeve in your grasp. âdonât. please, donât.â
at the sound of your voice, soft and warbled, he stopped, turning to face you once more, and whatever he saw on your face had his eyes softening.
âi donât want to deal with him any more than i already have,â you said, staring up at him. âi justâi just want to leave. can we go to your house, please? i donât want to be alone. i donât want to think.â
the neon bar lights cast strange shadows across your frames, illuminating you in various bright colours as you stood, gazes caught in one another. simon seemed to fight with himself for a moment, fury and something far more tender battling for authority. the latter won out; he exhaled a long breath, hand cupping the back of your head and pulling you into him once more.
âletâs go, yeah?â
you nodded, following with your arm wrapped around his as he led you to the bike. attached to the back was an extra helmet, which he placed atop your head, adjusting it with a heady stare you couldnât meet. the helmet smelled like pine and tobacco and vanilla and simon â it was everywhere, and you blissfully drowned in it.
when it was to his satisfaction, he tugged his gloves off and pulled them over your fingers. they were large and loose on you, and they were still warm from his skin. afterward, he pulled his own helmet back on, and held a hand out, helping you onto the back of the machine. large hands adjusted your hips, manhandling you into the right position, and it took everything in you not to make some sort of embarrassing squeak.
âokay,â he murmured, bent over your shoulder. âiâm gonna sit on the front here. youâll have your arms wrapped around my torso, okay? and youâre not gonna let go, at all. yeah?â
you nodded. âmmhmm.â
âi need to hear your words, love.â
meeting his gaze for the briefest second, you repeated, âi wonât let go.â
âgood. i wonât too fast with you, but if yâneed me to pullover, just let me know, yeah?â
another nod, and this time he gave you a pointed look. âiâll let you know,â you stated, lips just barely twitching.
with a gloved hand, simon pat your helmet and mounted the bike. after the briefest moment of hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his middle. even through the leather, he was warm; you couldnât help but burrow a bit further into him. with merely a glance at simon, it was obvious he was built â far more than any other man you knew. to feel it beneath you, though, was an entirely separate thing. he was solid and unyielding but not harsh; a thin layer of fat kept him just soft enough.
âgood girl,â he praised, patting the hands youâd entwined in front of his belly. you pressed your eager grin between his shoulders.
the motorcycle rumbled beneath you, and, slowly, he eased the gas, weaving through the tightly-crammed parking lot. just as he was about to exit the lot, he asked, above the exhaust, âyou alright?â
âmmhmm,â you hummed, cheek pressed against leather. then, âyes.â
with that, he accelerated onto the road, joining the late-night traffic. the wind whistled in your ears and bit at your exposed legs; you pressed yourself further against him, and his back vibrated with the sound he made in acknowledgment. above, yellowish streetlights warmed the pavement and passing cars. gas stations and markets and various homes passed by in a colourful blur.
at a red light, while you sat still, simonâs hand came down, brushing over your knuckles in slow circles. the movement was featherlight and you wondered if it was unconscious â as soon as it flicked back to green, he moved the hand back to the handles without any acknowledgment.
the ride to his place was closer than it would have been to yours. simon lived in a small, red brick townhouse, far enough from downtown to be quiet, and close enough to access it without any hassle. he could afford better, though he opted for this because âit was all he needed.â a stove to cook on, quiet neighbours, and a bed to sleep in â these were his only requirements.
steering the motorcycle beside the curb, he parked it there, and leaned backward into you. âhow was that?â he asked. the world seemed strangely quiet without the hum of the engine.
âfast,â you said lamely, honestly. ânot as bad as i thought, but i still prefer cars. they have walls. and heat.â
simon laughed, shaking his head. the sound echoed through his shoulders, which you were still pressed against. âwhen i get you a jacket iâll make sure itâs heated.â
the idea of simon purchasing you a leather jacket to ride with him more often â it made your face heat up and your cheeks ache with a restrained grin. you were barely able to get yourself under control before he was sliding off the bike and offering a hand to you. even with his help, maneuvering your way off with mostly-numb legs was a difficult task. you just barely were able to land steady-footed on the pavement. as if simon knew this, he kept a hand on the small of your back as you walked up the steps to his home.
inside, it smelled like simon. pine, english breakfast tea, and something unique to him. the only thing missing was the stench of a cigarette; you knew he refused to smoke inside.
the decorations were minimal yet cozy; it was surprisingly neat. besides the pair heâd just kicked off, the shoes were lined up along the wall. youâd been inside very few times, and never long enough to observe. in the living room, the lamp was still on, bathing the room in warmth. there was a cup of tea on the coffee table, only a few sips left. beside it was a novel you didnât recognize, dog-eared halfway through.
every detail felt important, like a glimpse into him. had the bar not left you feeling sticky and unkempt, you could have stayed here observing for hours. yet, your shirt felt suffocating across your chest, and the nape of your neck felt sweaty despite the earlier chill.
âum,â you began ungracefully. âdo you mind if i use your shower? i feel . . . icky.â
his lips twitched at your choice of words, and he nodded. âyeah. lemme show you the bathroom, sweets.â
following him up the stairs, he directed you to the bathroom, pulling two towels out of his linen-closet. then, he said, âshowerâs fuckinâ complicated. too fancy. lemme get it started for you.â
you watched as he ducked in, fiddling with buttons and knobs until steam danced over the glass doors. afterward, he looked back at you, peering at your figure. âthatâs not very comfortable.â
you followed his gaze, glancing over your outfit. âwell, no.â
he huffed. âiâll get yâsomething of mine,â he stated, and made his way toward the door. âiâll leave it on my bed, yeah? just down the hall. if yâneed anything, sweetheart, just shout. iâll be downstairs.â
giving a soft smile, you nodded and said, âokay. thank you, simon. really.â
âno need. iâd let yâlive here if it meant never going to that fuckinâ shitehole again.â
âit wasnât that bad of a bar.â
he gave you a dead-pan stare. âshite. hole.â
amused, you rolled your eyes, and pushed the door shut. on the other side, you heard a chuckle â the smile that bloomed on your face at the sound was unbidden.
itâd be a lie to say it didnât feel strange to strip in simonâs house. the fact that only a few walls stood between you sent a strange thrill through you. it was in your best interest to ignore it â your heart and body had incredibly inappropriate reactions to the man, and tonight they seemed to be at an all time high.
he was being kind, nothing else.
once your clothes were peeled off and discarded on the tiled floor, you stepped into the shower. immediately, the warmth enveloped you, melting the tension out of your muscles and washing it away.
simon didnât have much of a selection when it came to soaps. you were thankful he had a decent face wash, though â at least there were no three-in-ones.
the body wash smelled lovely â that dizzying, woodsy scent native to simon danced alongside the steam in the bathroom as you lathered it across your skin. though it was tempting to stay for longer, you didnât want to waste too much of his water. you stepped out, and wrapped a shockingly soft towel around your abdomen.
the house was quiet when you stepped out of the restroom, clothes collected in your hands as you padded toward simonâs bedroom. this was the one room you hadnât yet seen, though you could have predicted quite a bit of it. neat, minimal decorations. a king-sized bed because anything smaller wouldnât fit him. folded atop were joggers and a sweatshirt.
it wasnât a surprise you had to roll up the pant legs until they were ridiculously cuffed at the bottom. the sight of yourself in the mirror made you snort; you were drowning in simonâs clothes. butterflies swarmed your tummy, tooâyou were in his clothes, like you belonged to him. the train of thought was dangerous, you quickly looked away.
exiting his bedroom, you heard a quiet, continuous popping sound. padding down the stairs, you followed it into the kitchen where simon stood, collecting a bit of butter and a salt shaker.
though your steps were quiet, simonâs eyes were on you before you even stepped inside the room. his gaze swept your figure, dwarfed in his clothes, lingering just long enough for you to catch it before he was shifting it away, jaw twitching beneath his balaclava.
after a moment too long, he said, âhey, trouble.â his voice was low. âmaking popcorn. thereâs tea.â he gestured with his chin to the counter where two mugs sat, one of which youâd gifted to him nearly three years ago now. a black cat was painted on the front, a grumpy expression wrinkling itâs little face (âit reminds me of you,â youâd said). in a significantly less interesting mug was your tea, several shades lighter than his black.
âthank you,â you murmured against the lip of the glass, wincing slightly when a sip burned your tongue.
âdo youââ he began, taking the popcorn out of the microwave and pouring it into a bowl. âhowâs a movie sound?â
you grinned. âit sounds lovely.â
âthereâre dvds in the cupboard out there,â he explained, sifting the butter and salt through the popcorn. âtake your pick.â
a snort. âwhy am i not surprised you still use dvds?â
simon raised a brow. âi spend half my life in barracks. netflix is a scam, love.â
âsure,â you said, grinning impishly. âgrandpa.â
despite your teasing, his movie collection was vast. a lot of them you hadnât heard of, though you picked out a familiar one, presenting him with your choice when he joined you in the living room.
âdiehard, hm?â he gave a crooked smile. âtis the season, i suppose. you have good taste, sweetheart.â
âi know,â you stated proudly. âbut you should keep complimenting me.â
simon huffed a laugh, and placed the disc in the dvd player. âi already feed your ego too much.â
making yourself comfortable on his couch, you agreed, âyou really do.â then, when he procured a blanket and draped it across your lap, you snorted. âthis isnât helping.â
placing the popcorn between you, simon tugged off his balaclava and shoved a few pieces in his mouth, saying, âsorry, sweets. canât help it.â his smile was lopsided and boyish, charming. the tv flickered on, basking the room in a blueish glow, before simon clicked âplayâ on the movie.
together, you watched the opening scenes of the movie. a few jokes were muttered back and forth, but, other than that and the sounds of the film, it was quiet. the popcorn was delicious, lathered in an unhealthy amount of butter and salt, you shovelled it into your mouth.
the tea, too, was lovely. warm and sweet, and, combined with the comfort of simonâs presence, you were sleepily lulling back into the plush couch. with low eyelids, you tried to make yourself comfortable, manoeuvring your body this way and that. huffing, you stared down at the couch, searching for a decent position, when you spotted simonâs lap.
all muscled and soft, heâd make the perfect pillow. would he mind? you sincerely doubted he would. it was innocent, after all. you simply wanted to relax. the only one it might be awkward for was you, and if you could get past your stupid crush for a single hour, itâd be perfect.
after one more moment of doubt, you stretched yourself out and hesitantly laid your head on simonâs lap. beneath you, he tensed for a moment, and you just about thought youâd fucked everything up before he relaxed back into the couch. a large hand made a home on your back, running soothingly up and down your spine.
laying against simon like this â it was so peaceful. your mind hushed to a low hum as you nestled further into him, eyes trained on the screen. his fingers trailed upward, tracing a pattern on the nape of your neck and returning south.
the movie was entertaining, though you felt yourself slipping into sleep. occasionally, simonâs fingers would slip over a ticklish slip of skin, and youâd shiver, causing him to exhale a chuckle.
slowly, as your mind quieted, so did the sound of the film, until it was an unintelligible mumble. the world started and ended with simonâs thighs beneath your cheek, and his hand against your shoulders.
against your eyelids, the screen was bright, lighting them up uncomfortably. huffing sleepily, you pressed your face into simonâs lap, burrowing further in an attempt to make yourself comfortable. beneath you, something firm prodded against your cheek, and at once you were very awake.
simon, suddenly, stiffened. the hand on your back halted, fingers hovering over your skin before dropping away completely. âoh, fuckâchrist, sweetheart, iâm so sorry. iâll drive you home, okay? orâiâll call a cab, if youâd rather thatââ
âsimon.â the word was firm enough to catch his attention, quieting him if only for a moment. your mind swamâa mess of confusion, lust, excitement, and need. when it proved too difficult to sift through, too impossible to cohere, you voiced the one word you could manage:
âplease.â
despite the long-forgotten movie being your only source of light, the reaction simon had was the clearest youâd ever seen. his breath hitched, chest rising and falling rapidly. his gaze, so dilated it was almost entirely black, narrowed on your face. it darted between your features, like he was searching for some sort of hidden meaning in your words, like he didnât quite believe you.
in retaliation, your hand, trembling only slightly, came up and grazed the too-large tent in his trousers. immediately simonâs hand gripped your wrist, squeezing his eyes shut and inhaling sharply.
âkidââ he said then, and the word was wrapped in molten heat. it was gravelly in a way youâd never heard before, a rumble in his chest. goosebumps broke out along your skin. âdonât start something youâll regret.â
âiâm not,â you stated bravely, daringly. you adjusted your position, only to face him better, and he did not let go of your wrist. you hoped he couldnât feel the rapid thrum of your pulse beneath his thumb. âplease, simon. i want this. iâve wanted this.â
that snagged on something in his brain; caught his attention and held it. he stared at you, intense as ever. behind his gaze was a dilemma; a war you could only see traces of. after a few suffocatingly long moments spent beneath heavy tension, something won out, and the grip on your wrist loosened.
immediately, with years of want behind your touch, you grazed your hand over his clothed length once more. the breath in your chest stuttered when you grasped it, feeling just how big he was beneath your fingers.
a sound rumbled in simonâs chest; a groan of sorts. exploratorily, you tilted your head down, holding his burning gaze as you brushed your lips over his trousers.
âfuck,â simon cursed, hand grasping the back of your skull. he didnât push or move you at all; he simply held it there, like he couldnât bare to not be touching you himself.
the button of his trousers was difficult to undo with shaking hands, but you managed, pulling down his fly barely seconds after. with uneven breaths, you delved beneath the band of his briefs, pulling him up and out of the fabric.
the sight of simonâs cock was enough to get you off on itâs own; too thick for one of your hands to wrap around it, long enough that it bobbed against his shirt as you stared, too entranced for embarrassment. he was uncut, and there was a mound of curly, dirty-blond hair at the base, trimmed just enough to stay out of the way. you exhaled, breath ghosting along his length. the grip simon had on you tightened
again, you looked up at him. simonâs gaze was unwavering, as if looking away was some sin he was too pious to commit. it was then, as he gazed down at you with a burning gaze, that he seemed to read something in your expression. a pleading, a search for guidance. whatever it was, it had him speaking. âgo ahead, sweet girl. get yâmouth on me.â
like his words triggered some sort of instinctual response in your body, your mouth was immediately moving. you licked a long, languid stripe from base to tip, revelling in the warm, salty taste. then, your lips wrapped around the head, suckling slightly before descending another inch.
âfuck,â he cursed again, hand moving in soothing circles against the back of your skull. âgood fuckinâ girl. such a good listener, arenât you?â
the words pulled a whimper from your throat. you released his dick for the briefest moment, a string of saliva connecting you, before wrapping your lips around him again, hollowed cheeks taking as much as you could manage. the fact that it was only half was disappointing.
âchrist, angel. yâmouth is â heaven. fuck.â the choked sound of his voice only emphasized his point. when you made another noise, something between a whimper and a whine, he chuckled, and said, âlike me talking to you like that? telling you how good you are? fuck, yâre so sweet. my sweet girl.â
moaning against him, you attempted to take more. betrayed by your gag reflex, you pulled back, choking, eyes glistening with tears.
simon cooed, hands cupping your jaw and thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping away a tear thatâd escaped. âoh, angel, yâdonât need to take so much so fast. youâre doing so well. lemme show you. is that okay? can i help you?â
swallowing the excess drool in your mouth, you nodded, and his eyes crinkled with a smile as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
âwords, love.â though his voice was soft, it was a command. âthought i taught you this already.â
âplease,â you whispered. âshow me how,â his face was close enough to see the thin wrinkles around his eyes, the soft dusting of a five oâclock shadow over his jaw. âwanna make you feel good.â
simonâs lips curved before they pressed against yours, all gentle and soft like youâd break if he were any rougher. it was inebriating to be treated so reverently, hands holding your jaw like you were something precious. simon made you feel like you were.
his lips moved languidly. he took control of it easily, guiding your lips with his own. he didnât escalate it, didnât shove his tongue into your mouth like so many other boys had. he kissed like he found pleasure in this alone.
arms tangling around his neck, you gently ran your nails over the nape of his neck, where fabric met skin. simon groaned, softly nipping at your bottom lip. you giggled.
as much as you adored this â youâd kiss simon for hours if heâd let you â you were getting impatient. youâd gotten a taste for him, and you were quickly becoming addicted.
when you pulled away, he let you, stare darting between your kiss-swollen lips and glazed-over eyes. he watched your gaze trail back down to his crotch, and chuckled quietly.
âeager thing, arenât you?â he questioned, leaning in to press one last kiss to the corner of your mouth. âgo ahead, trouble.â
you didnât need to be told twice â keeping your head on his lap, you laid out on your belly, across the couch. his hand found your head again, and this time, he gently guided you forward, allowing your lips to find his cock once more.
âthatâs it, love,â he murmured. he had you stay like that for a while, suckling contentedly on the head and lapping your tongue over his slit.
âif yâneed to come up for air, tap my thigh, alright?â he instructed. you nodded, before correcting yourself, allowing him to slip from your mouth only to voice, âokay.â
simon exhaled, the sound shaking towards the end as your long laved the underside of the head. âgood fuckinâ girl.â
though youâd blown guys before, this â simon â was different. something about him, his scent or the sound of his voice or simply his presence, created a haze that had your mind going cloudy. with your lips wrapped tightly around his cock, your world started and ended with simon riley.
little by little, he inched you down his cock. never too quick and never too much. in that moment, he seemed to know your body better than you. always stopping just before your gag reflex was triggered, just before your limit was reached.
âlook at you, breathing outta your nose. youâre a natural.â
your breathy moan vibrated against simonâs cock; his thighs tensed, though he didnât buck his hips or push you down. he continued his languid pace, inching you down only when you could handle it.
âso good,â he muttered. at this point youâd taken more than half of of him. breathing steadily out of your nose, you used a spare hand to grip the remaining length, pumping it in time with your mouth. âfuck. ah, angel, âm gonna cum if you keep thaâ up.â
spurred on, you hollowed your cheeks and took another inch, blinking away tears. his pelvis barely a few centimeters from your nose, now, and with one last deep breath, you swallowed back the rest of his cock.
âfucking christâ!â simon swore, pulling you off of him as gently as he could manage. you sputtered, coughing and sniffling as tears ran freely from your eyes.
âoh, none of that now, love,â he cooed, big hands cradling your jaw as he kissed away your tears.
âdid i do something wrong?â you asked. your voice was raw.
âno, no. of course not, love. you could never do anything wrong,â he stated, pressing a lingering kiss to your hairline. then, he chuckled, warm breath ghosting along your skin. ââm not as young as i used to be, pretty girl. ân if iâm finishing tonight, i want it to be in this sweet cunt.â to make his point, he cupped you over your panties, which had become embarrassingly wet over the last bit. sensitive, you whimpered, curling further into him and grinding down. âhowâs that sound, hm? yâgonna let me fill yâup?â
vehemently, you nod, gripping the wrist thatâd snuck up your skirt for support. âplease. yeah, yeah. i want that, si.â
with shaking hands, you gripped the bottom of your top in an attempt to yank it off. swiftly, simon stopped you, one hand large enough to catch the both of yours. âmm-mm. if âm gonna fuck you, âm gonna do it proper. yâdeserve better than a shitty couch, dove.â
in the next breath, you were swept up into simonâs arms, legs wrapped tightly around his torso. a high-pitched squeak escaped you and tapered into a laugh as he carried you up the stairs, towards his bedroom.
âsuch a gentleman,â you joked, toying with the collar of his shirt.
âi tryâ,â he murmured, pressing a kiss to your palm when it cupped his jaw.
after closing the door behind him, simon gently dropped you on the bed. you giggled as you bounced, bracing yourself on your elbows and looking up at him. for a moment, simon stood, gaze locked on your frame, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
âfucking hell,â he cursed, finally. âyouâre a dream.â
âa dream?â you echoed, grin simpering into a smirk. âyâbeen dreaminâ about me, riley?â
in a single, fluid motion, simon tugged his shirt off. he was a mass of muscle, age just barely softening his edges. tattoos ran up his arms and across most of his chest, where hair the same shade as his happy trail grew.
ââcourse i have,â he answered, like it was obvious. then, he kicked off his slippers and fit himself between your legs, arms bracing himself just inches above you. âmaking me act like a fucking teenager again, wakinâ up to wet boxers.â
the thought of simon having wet dreams about you made your head spin. dumbly, you blinked up at him, and found yourself unimpressed with the balaclava still covering the upper-half of his face.
âcan i?â you asked, voice quiet enough you wondered if heâd even be able to hear it. his small smile, though, gave him away. he nodded.
little by little, you rolled the offending material upward, revealing every mesmerizing inch of his face. tossing it to the side, you took a long moment to admire him: the long blond lashes, the sloping scars, the light spattering of freckles, his crooked nose.
âyâso pretty,â you stated, honestly. rose blossomed across his cheeks and nose, leaving you with a wide grin. simon pressed a kiss behind your ear, though you had a sneaking suspicion it was to hide his face.
âthink thatâs supposed tâbe my line, love,â simon replied, gently nipping your throat. as you giggled, he continued downward, kisses growing sloppier as they reached your collarbones. then, he pulled back, fingers slipping over the hem of your shirt. he met your gaze for a brief second, searching for the permission youâd always give him, and tugged it off.
left in only the lacy scrap the lingerie shop deemed a bra, simon stated openly at you. this time, it was your turn to squirm, hands instinctively reaching to hide your face. easily, he caught your wrists.
âno. no. i wanna see you,â he said, squeezing your arms once. âcover your face and i stop, alright?â
huffing, you kept your hands at your side, and he twitched his lips. afterward, he smoothed large hands across your skin, over your stomach and ribs, cupping your chest. âso gorgeous.â he squeezed. âfuckinâ hate the idea of you going out in somethinâ like this when iâm not with you. no more. if yâwearinâ this, itâs for me, yeah? no one else.â
biting your lip, you nodded, not trusting your voice enough to speak. simon disagreed with your decision, seeing as he pinched your side. âno one else,â you affirmed.
âgood girl.â he drew out the words, eyes trained on your chest, before he was reaching behind and unclamping your bra with his fingers. sliding it off, he tossed it haphazardly into the growing pile of clothes on his floor.
simon wasted no time in resuming his assault on your skin, leaving a kiss here and a bite there. he swirled his tongue over your tits, paying special attention to your nipples, playing with one while he had his mouth on the other. little marks littered your saliva-soaked skin when he reached the top of your skirt.
one more glance at you and he was tugging it down, along with the flimsy nylons youâd worn. swiftly, he pressed an open-mouthed kissed to your cloth-covered cunt, easily keeping your hips down when they tried to buck.
the air was cold against your soaked cunt when he peeled back the fabric, pulling it over your ankles and discarding it on the floor. as had become his habit, simon took a moment to admire you. eyes blazing and turning the skin beneath it warm. your hands fisted the blankets as you resisted the urge to cover up.
âso pretty,â he said, moving backward down the bed and climbing off it. then, he tugged you with him, earning a tiny yelp, before kneeling at the end of it. âwanted tâtaste you for fucking ever. yâgonna let me, sweetheart? hm? you gonna let me taste your sweet cunt?â
nodding, you squeezed your eyes shut and breathed, âplease, simon.â
his fingers, warm and steady, trailed up your thighs, pulling a shiver from you. âspread your legs a little wider for me, baby. there yâgo. good.â then, slowly, they inched towards your centre, spreading you open. you didnât have to look to know he was staring.
all at once, his tongue was on you, licking a long stripe up your folds and over your clit. you moaned embarrassingly loudly, trailing off into a long whine when he didnât let up. your fingers knitted themselves in his blond waves, tugging as gently as you could manage. he groaned in approval, the sound vibrating through your cunt and sending your back arching.
âfuck! simon,â you yelped. his hands held your legs apart when they attempted to close, overwhelmed by pleasure.
he slipped away from your heat only to say, âkeep sayinâ my name.â
whining, you pushed his head back into you, and he chuckled, resuming his ministrations on your cunt. simon was talented with his tongue â something jealous burned you at the thought of how he got so good. the thought was quickly scrubbed from your brain, though, when he flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit, circling it once, twice, before descending again.
âplease,â you whined, though you didnât know what you were asking for. his pace had slowed, now, sloppily making out with your cunt like it was something he could worship. âsimon . . . â
the pleasure was inescapable; your body was torn between grinding down on his mouth and trying to wriggle away from it. it didnât help that he was doing it so leisurely; tongue moving languidly through your folds and over your clit like it was for his pleasure instead of yours. that thought got you off all the more.
your legs trembled, winding around simonâs head and damn near suffocating him â not that he cared. when you glanced down, he was watching you, nose shiny as it brushed against your clit. simon smirked â you could feel the movement against you.
had you been in any other state, the sound you made as you tumbled over the edge might have embarrassed you. as it was, though, you didnât have the mind for anything other than pleasure as your back bowed off the bed and your legs tightened around simonâs skull.
he was saying something â you only understood bits of it, but it sounded like a mindless litany of praise. âthere you are, there we go. so good, so fucking good.â
he paired each praise with a kiss to your cunt until you were trembling from overstimulation, just pushing past the edge of too much. simon climbed up the bed and pressed wet kisses across your face; when he licked into your mouth and you tasted yourself, you moaned.
âyouâre a fuckinâ vision, sweetheart. never knew youâd cum so pretty. yâgonna let me see it again? hm? yâgonna let me fuck you, baby?â
you were nodding before the words were even out of his mouth, snaking your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. without breaking it for longer than a few seconds, simon moved the two of you further up the bed until your head rested against his surprisingly soft pillows.
simon groaned appreciatively when your nails scraped against his skull. you grinned, and breathed, âyou like pain just as much as me.â
simon chuckled, biting your chin. âmaybe. when itâs you.â
âwhat was that you said earlier? something âbout feeding my ego?â
another laugh, and he joked, âiâm too far gone, now, i think. iâm just here to serve.â
âprove it.â your lips curved into a lust-drunk smile. âfuck me.â
with one last peck against your lips, simon smirked, and said, âyes maâam.â
he leaned over you, then, tugging open the creaky drawer to his bedside table and fishing around. âshit.â
âhm?â you hummed, following his gaze to the foil packet between his fingers.
ââs fuckinâ expired.â simonâs brow furrowed, and he brought the packet closer, squinting. you grabbed it from him, tossing it on the floor.
âi donât care,â you said, probably stupidly, but the thought of not fucking simon right now had something foul twisting in your belly. âwant you.â
running broad hands over your legs, simon gazed down at you, like your expression would say otherwise. you rolled your eyes. âiâm clean. iâm assuming youâre clean, if your condoms are expired.â simon pinched your side, and you giggled. âplease? want you to fuck me, simon.â
simon exhaled, and shook his head, smirking. âyeah?â he asked, fingers trailing over your belly. âyâwant me to fuck you? cum in this little cunt?â
âyeah, yeah. please. want that.â
his lips press against yours again, hands continuing their journey downward until he was exploring your sensitive folds. you whimpered, quietly, but simon caught the sound and tutted. âi know, sweets. but iâve gotta stretch you. donât wanna hurt you, right? not tonight.â
lubing his fingers up with your slick, he started with his middle, circling your hole before slowly pushing inward. your earlier orgasm had relaxed you already, and he was able to add a second in no time. he explored for a moment, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them upward until he found that spongy spot that had your head rolling back in pleasure.
âthere it is,â he said, and though your eyes were squeezed shut, you felt his smirk against your skin; heard it in his voice. âthat feel good, pretty?â
the answering nod you gave was shaky and sudden, hands gripping onto his forearm for dear life. âfuck me, si. pleaseâwant your cock.â
âi know, i know. one more finger, how about that? then we can give you what you need.â
with a groan, you nodded, and sent him a short glare. he snorted, and muttered, âso impatient.â
âbeen waiting for fucking years,â you argued, though your point mightâve been lost in the quiver of your voice. ââm allowed to be a little impatient.â
âyears, hm?â his third finger prodded at your entrance. âguess i should hurry, then. poor thing.â
the way you dug your nails into his skin was both in pleasure and retaliation. three thick fingers pumped slowly in and out of you, curling in a way that had your thighs shaking.
finally, he slipped the fingers from you, the whine you gave turning into a moan when he plunged them into his mouth instead, savouring every bit of you. âso fuckinâ sweet.â
when simonâs fat tip ran through your folds, you tensed, and questioned if three fingers would really be enough. âsimon . . . â
though his voice was strained, he stopped, glancing up at you. âyeah, sweetheart?â
âi donâtââ his tip ran over your clit ââfuck, i donât know if youâll fit.â
simon tsked, the hand not controlling his cock coming up to brush the hair out of your face. âdonât gimme that, sweets. you can take it, i know you can.â he kissed your jaw. âiâll make it fit, yeah? howâs that?â
shakily, you exhaled, meeting his gaze. truly, you didnât know if itâd wavered from your face all night. his eyes were so sure â you could do nothing but believe him. itâd fit. you nodded.
âyeah, yeah. thereâs my girl.â again, his lips were on yours, tongue licking into your mouth. minty toothpaste, tea, and cigarettes overwhelmed your senses as his thick tip pushed inside, swallowing every moan you gave.
when heâd made it a few inches, simon pulled back. âhowâs that?â he questioned. âyâokay, lovey? want me to keep going?â
you couldnât nod fast enough. there was a bit of pain, but the pleasure of the stretch won out easily. tangling your hands in his hair, you yanked simon back down for a long, messy kiss. really, it was more so a clash of teeth and tongue and heavy breathing than a kiss, but you digress.
by the time simon was fully sheathed inside you, it felt like he was in your fucking lungs. he gave you as much time as you needed to adjust, though the way his fists clenched and unclenched beside your head proved how greatly he wanted to move. digging one of the legs wrapped around him further into his skin, you urged him to.
âfucking christ,â he groaned. simon dropped his head for a moment, hot breath fanning over your neck as he slowly rocked in and out. âyâso fucking tight.â
âmânot tight, youâre just huge,â you argued, a furrow in your brow. simon bit the juncture between your throat and shoulderâyou giggled, the sound delirious.
propping himself up on his forearms once more, simon slowly pulled out, leaving only his tip inside of you, before swiftly thrusting back in, setting a harsh, steady pace.
little high-pitched sounds came from your chest with every thrust, cock abusing that spongy spot inside you that lit fireworks behind your eyelids. with the way you were clawing at his back, youâd be surprised if simon didnât look like he was mauled by a wildcat tomorrow.
âso good. gripping me like a fuckinâ vice. swear it was like you were made for me,â he breathed, teeth grazing over your ear.
sense had long since left you â you only nodded, murmuring back, âfor you, fâyou.â
maybe the way his cock kissed your cervix would have you cursing tomorrow, maybe the way your back bowed with pleasured tension would have you hunching over in the morning â you didnât care. right now, your world consisted of simonâs searing brown eyes and the toe-curling pleasure he supplied.
âfeels so good.â your words were breathy, punctuated with a tug to his hair.
âyeah?â he questioned, smiling lopsidedly. âgood. gonna fucking ruin you. youâll never be able to take another cock without thinking of meâthinking of how good i made you feel.â
shaking your head, you whines, âno. no one else. only you.â
simon growled, thrusting especially hard as he licked and sucked at your throat. âyeah. youâre mine, arenât you? my girl.â
âyours,â you nodded. ââm yours, fârever.â
simon groaned out a slew of curses, cock twitching inside of you. one hand reached down toy with your clit, making quick, slippery circles. âwant you to cum again, baby. âm not gonna last much longer and â fuck â i need tâsee it again.â
youâd already been dancing along the edge â his thick fingers and raspy words were a harsh push, leaving you dangling by one hand.
your eyes rolled back into your head, and his other hand was swiftly gripping your chin, gently shaking you. âon me, love, keep yâr eyes on me.â
with great effort, you kept your hazy gaze on his face, which was twisted in the effort to stave off his orgasm. you whimpered, and murmured, âsay it again. say iâm yours. please.â
âoh, sweetheart,â he groaned, head dipping into the crook of your neck for a moment before finding your eyes again. âyouâre mine, ainât ya? my sweet girl. yeah. anâ iâm yours â always will be.â
the second the words left his mouth, you tumbled over the edge. your entire body shook, curving inward and wrapping itself around simon like it was trying to burrow inside him. in the haze of it, you heard simon shout, before warmth was spilling inside your cunt, filling you up to the fucking brim. if simon wasnât simon, you were sure the grip you had on him wouldâve broken something by now.
when you came back to, the world was quiet â soft breathing echoed through your ears, his and yours indistinguishable from each other. simonâs head was buried in your neck, the weight of him just bridging the edge of uncomfortable. it was bliss.
eventually, he rolled over, cock pulling out with an equally disgusting and enticing squelch. his spend leaked out of you, dirtying his sheets. neither of you minded, it seemed â he easily pulled you across his chest, pressing his lips to your warm forehead.
âyâwith me, lovie?â his voice was barely more than a murmur.
you hummed, hand moving upward to trace over his sweat-soaked chest. âi think so.â
a quiet laugh vibrated in his chest, breath dancing across your face. you smiled in turn, crooking your neck to gaze at him. keeping in theme with the rest of the night, simon was already staring at you â his eyes seemed to shine when they found yours, and his lips curled up in a rare smile. you were met with the embarrassing urge to take a picture.
âyouâre a mess,â he stated, chuckling quietly as his eyes darted across your face and body.
narrowing your eyes, you pinched his pec, and his chuckle became a laugh. âa beautiful mess, sweetheart. âs the prettiest youâve ever looked, i promise.â
you rolled your eyes, and argued, ââs your fault.â then, attempted to sit up â though his strong grip on your shoulder kept you down. simon frowned. âwhere dâyou think youâre going?â
âi need to pee,â you stated, and he let you up with a huff. âthen i need to fucking shower, again.â
simon made a sound. âhow âbout i run you a bath, hm? lemme do the work.â
smiling softly, you glanced back at him. he took your hand that lingered on his chest and brought it to his mouth, pressing kisses over your knuckles. âthatâd be lovely.â
simon stood, and when you looked over him, you smiled. hair mussed, lips swollen, skin glazed in sweat â he was just as much of a mess as you. in a single movement, simon swept you into his arms. with a yelp, you clung to him, and he carried you, bridal-style, into the bathroom.
placing you on the lip of the bathtub, simon left for only a moment to dig through his linen closet, and returned with a wash cloth. after running it under warm water in the sink, he helped you up once more and gently ran it between your legs.
afterward, while you used the restroom, simon ran the bath, using that intoxicating body-wash as bubble bath. spotting his back, which was covered in bright-red scratches, you giggled, feeling only a little bad.
âiâd say sorry for yâback, but really i look no better,â you stated. hickies and bite-marks littered your skin, decorating your neck, chest, and thighs.
snorting, simon moved to look in the mirror, eyes tracing the pinkish abrasions trailing from shoulders to spine. âiâll wear âem with pride.â
once the tub had filled, steam dancing around the mound of bubbles, simon, again, helped you up. his skin was warm, and if the bath wasnât so enticing, youâd be tempted to stay here, pressed against him.
easily, he lifted you up and into the bath, following you not long afterward. it was a shock he could fit all of his limbs in the tub, even moreso when you could fit between his legs. it was a bit squishy, but you couldnât have traded it for anything â laying against his chest while his hands ran up and down your body. thighs, stomach, chest, arms â he touched you softly, reverently, lips pressing behind your ear.
âdid you mean it?â you asked. the quiet hum of your voice seemed loud in the silence of the room.
âmean what, love?â
swallowing, you played with his fingers, and supplied, âthat âm yours. that youâre mine.â
simon exhaled, and you could feel the small curve of his lips against the back of your neck. âi meant it.â
#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost#ghost x reader#ghost fanfiction#simon riley fanfiction#call of duty#call of duty x reader#tf 141 x reader#141 x reader#call of duty fic#modern warfare#cod x reader#ghost x you#simon riley x you#cod x you#ghost x y/n#simon riley x y/n#my writing *ŕŠâŠâ§âË#ghost ââËâšâĄ
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i think itâs really funny how many people say that alastor is ace, not aroace, just because viv has only called him ace.
love you guys but you are GRAPHICALLY overestimating peopleâs knowledge on aromanticism and asexuality and how they are different. they have been confused with each other since their existence, and just because someone is queer doesnât mean theyâre incapable of confusing the terms or using them interchangeably. alastor is clearly shown to not have romantic feelings, just take a look at some of the official jokes.
both of these are explicitly non-romantic. not just non-sexual, they are both jokes and comments about being aromantic, not asexual.
yes, rosie only mentions him being asexual in episode seven, but again, this is a joke made about the idea of him being in a ROMANTIC relationship. unless rosie was implying that she knows alastor and charlie wouldnât fuck? which đđ i donât think she would do that??? it was definitely a joke about him not wanting romance because of his romantic and sexual orientation. and yes, i understand how annoying it is that asexuality and aromanticism are being used interchangeable in this instance, and this is an issue ace/aro people have been facing for years, but this is clearly a joke about him being aroace, not just ace.
again, you guys are giving alloromantic/allosexual people WAY too much credit on how much they know about ace/aro people, when most of their knowledge (if any) is âasexual people dont want sex, aromantic people donât want romanceâ and thatâs it. vivziepop, despite being queer herself, is still allo as far as im aware. allo people BARELY know anything about asexuality or aromanticism or care to learn the difference, and itâs clear that aro/aceness is being used interchangeably here. alastor is portrayed as aroace, and is clearly meant to be seen as aroace, even though heâs only ever been explicitly called ace by viv.
#this isnt even mentioning that his va called him aroace and viv never corrected him lol#(in front of her i might add)#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor the radio demon#asexual#aromantic#aroace#aroace alastor#aromantic alastor#asexual alastor#hazbin hotel meta#hazbin meta
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hold on,hold on,Yandere!Conner Kent x readerđđť
(sorry for botheringđ)
U ain't a bother and if anybody tells you that u do, then, they gonna face my pinky, my thumb and my fist they gonna run. đźđşđ§đ˝ââď¸ nobody messes with my first ever anon đ đ
Anyways
The night has fallen quietly over Metropolis, the cityscape softened under a blanket of stars. The world feels smaller somehow, contained within the walls of your apartment where Connor sits, angled slightly toward you, his gaze unwavering yet serene. He has that brooding, intense lookâa mix of steel and tendernessâthat youâve come to recognize as uniquely his. Itâs as though heâs carrying a burden, one he wonât let you see, and yet you feel its weight as if heâs drawn you into his orbit without permission.
âConnor,â you say softly, trying to break the quiet, âyouâve been⌠around a lot more lately.â
His eyes flicker, something shadowy dancing behind them, a vulnerability he usually keeps hidden. He doesnât answer right away, just lets his gaze travel over your features as if memorizing every detail. The room feels charged, the air between you like the fine thread of a spiderâs webâdelicate and unbreakable all at once.
Finally, he speaks, his voice hushed but firm. âI just want to make sure youâre safe. Is that so wrong?â
Thereâs a faint, haunting cadence in his words, something raw and possessive yet laced with an almost tragic reverence. You feel the intensity radiating off him, a barely restrained storm beneath his calm exterior.
âNothing could happen to you,â he continues, almost to himself. âNot on my watch. Iâd make sure of that.â
Youâve always known Connorâs protectiveness runs deep, but tonight, it feels like thereâs something else lurking beneath the surface. An edge, a quiet desperation that clings to the room, thick as fog.
âConnorâŚâ you say his name with a gentle tone, hoping it might pull him out of whatever dark place heâs retreating into. Heâs so close now, leaning forward, his hand reaching out as if compelled by some invisible force. When his fingers graze your cheek, his touch is featherlight, as though he fears youâll vanish.
âIf I could keep you here,â he whispers, his tone taking on a dreamy, almost poetic quality, âlocked away from the world⌠I would. Not because I want to take anything from you, but because I⌠I couldnât bear it if anything happened to you.â
Itâs a confession wrapped in longing, and you see the truth of it in his eyes, where constellations seem to burn just for you. Thereâs something about his gaze that feels eternal, as if the universe itself has handed him the task of guarding you.
âYou mean a lot to me,â he says finally, each word slow and deliberate, as though heâs trying to etch them into your soul. âMore than you know.â
In that moment, his love feels like an uncharted oceanâbeautiful and terrifying, with depths youâre not sure youâre ready to explore. But his sincerity anchors you, and, despite the intensity of his words, you canât help feeling safe, cocooned in the quiet power of his devotion.
(A/n: is it just me or do you guys also feel suspicious of how I could post every day despite saying I'm too lazy to do so... Maybe my laziness hasn't kicked in yet which is weird and scary considering I'm writing dis rn in front of my 10 homework activities, and yes I am doing it last minute but so what...? I'm too lazy to do all of em and rn I'm don't know what I am talking about... I love yapping but I'm a introvert does it make me a extrovert when i talk too much but not as loud? Guys I'm turning crazy, I need someone to talk to and all my best friends are busy idk why they've been busy since last week....my gf is not replying for like 20 minutes now...im going crazy. Also sorry for spamming the Batfamily tag even though it's not the content I posted, I just feel like it's more famous than the others and also idk how to tag... Though mainly because I'm scared of being a flop hehe...)
#yandere dc#yandere connor#yandere conner kent#yandere connor x reader#yandere connor kent x reader#connor kent x reader#connor x reader#yandere batfam#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfamily#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere batman x reader#yandere batman#batfamily x reader#batfam x reader#đşâ request
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AAAH!! I wasn't expecting you to actually do a story for Rumble đ I squealed when I saw it on my timeline đ thank you so much and every blessing upon ye, I hope your crops are flourishing, skin is clear etc. etc.
𤣠18+ content đśď¸
Alcohol Eyes Pt 2
IDW Rumble x Reader
⢠Almost groaning when the little human leans back to put some space between them, his servos flex against soft skin, wanting to pull you back to him. Wanting more as he drops his head against the crook of your neck, mouth finding and chasing the quick beat of your pulse. Hearing that husky laugh of yours that runs electric through him to wind him tight as his palms slide over your soft body. Why had he been so against coming here? He loves it here, loves the noise and press of bodies. Especially yours as he does drag you back to him. âMaybe we can make this a private party?â You ask and heâs not entirely sure what you mean by that, but heâs hoping his guess is right.
⢠Your strangerâs mouth is on your neck, his lips branding heat over your skin, feeling the barest slip of teeth threatening to nip sending need shivering through you. Forget taking him home as your blood heats. You want this. Pulling away makes him make a low noise thatâs almost a growl of protest as you grip his hand and tug him along with you. Half your attention on keeping an eye out for your ex to avoid a fight as you lead your new friend toward the back storage room. Youâd worked in the club right out of high school and knew no one ever bothered to lock that door, and you thank every deity you can think of when you find it still unlocked now. Itâs darker in here the one bulb hanging from a bare socket doing little to chase away the shadows as you turn to lock the door behind you both.
⢠Reaching as soon as the lock clicks, Rumble pulls you back into him, servos sliding over you. Venting roughly against your throat, as you reach back to loop an arm around his neck. âSlow down, Iâm not going anywhere,â you say, reaching back your other hand to run warm fingers over his thigh. âYou want to take off the costume?â
⢠âNo,â he growls, his own hand sliding down your belly, exploring with hesitant touches along the waist band of your jeans. âNo.â The word is more insistent, almost desperate when you catch his wrist, like he thinks youâre about to stop him. Shuddering against your back when you guide his hand down the front of your clothes, showing him where you need him.
⢠Venting raggedly, he cups slick, warm flesh and finds your core to slip a servo inside, feeling the way your heat grips him. âThatâs good,â you whisper, leaning your upper body across a container, thighs spreading to give him more access to stroke deeper, his spike aching to be freed. Pulling his hand free to try and figure out how to undo your coverings has you laughing again, the sound stroking over him. âNo chill at all, huh?â Shifting to undo that little button and push your pants down. No, he doesnât have any chill or restraint, wanting this. Needing it as he nudges you back down on your front over the container, freeing his spike to grip himself and slide his length against your slickness. âWait, my purse. I think I have some-â youâre saying as he finds you and buries himself inside that wet, welcoming heat that fists his spike, hearing you moan. âNever mind.â
⢠So much for condoms, but as he rocks his hips, that thick length stroking slowly inside you, thereâs no worrying about anything beyond him moving. âFrag, youâre tight,â he snarls, that rough accent you canât quite place right in your ear as his big hands tighten on your hips to the point you know thereâll be bruising, but heâs still not moving, so you do, rocking as much as you can with your hips up.
⢠You move against him, pushing yourself back and then heâs thrusting into that wet heat despite wanting to savor the feel of you wrapped around him, that sense of connection heâd been sure heâd never have because of his size, because of his modifications. Youâre so small under him as he ruts against you, using his grip on your hips to pull you back to meet the urgent drive of his hips. Hearing the wet sounds of your body taking him and your low, needy sounds that are only for him, because this? Itâs his. Youâre his.
⢠Heâs not holding back, hips slapping against you, moving hard and deliciously fast. And he is growling, hands flexing on your hips as his frantic thrusts drive you to that peak, then over as he drapes himself against your back with a deep drive of his hips, his mouth against the back of your shoulder, his hips moving in sharp, shallow thrusts as he releases and you tighten on the thick length of him inside you, milking him. âRumble,â he groans against your skin, hips still moving in shallow, lazy thrusts and you can feel his excess on your inner thigh.
⢠You lay your cheek on your outstretched arm, head turning to look back at him from the corner of your eye. Smiling when he hesitantly reaches to slide sweat slick hair back from your temple, the intimate gesture stealing your breath for a moment. âHi, Rumble,â you murmur, laughing softly when he presses himself tighter against you, sheathing himself deep and savoring it as his spark twists with a hunger thatâs new and consuming. Heâd never really paid much attention to organics before aside from Starscreamâs and they were more like a particularly helpless sibling needing protecting. Nothing like this.
⢠He hasnât taken off any of his costume except what heâd needed to free himself to fuck you. Itâs weird, but not a deal breaker. Not with the lazy way your thighs are trembling or how heâd felt, still feels, inside you. âCan we go again?â He asks so earnestly, so hopefully, and you rock yourself against him in answer. Because while youâd only wanted a quickie to thank him, youâre wondering, praying, heâs single. Because the almost reverent way his big hands slide against your skin, the press of his mouth against your spine in a hungry kiss? This guyâs going to ruin you.
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Can u do a drabble or hcs on cuddling Ellie?
Ur writing is so good I love everything U write :>
WREATHE
warnings: not much, mostly fluff, basically the rq, mdni with my account thođ
a/n: IM SO SORRY THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR I KID YOU NOT LIKE HALF A YEAR IM GENUINELY SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME đ° thank you so much for sending the rq even though i took the piss responding, also this is a drabble bc i donât think iâd be good at doing hcs đ i have some shit coming up at uni so i prolly wonât put anything out for a while but i have an idea for a new fic in the drafts !!! very excitedâŚ
ramadan has started which means israelâs violence against the Palestinian people will worsen as it does every year, purely for the sake of inflicting even more psychological torture on them. please, now more than ever, pray for them if youâre religious, talk about palestine, boycott, protest, strike, donate if you can, contact the people in charge. donât let people forget. hereâs a link to some details on the situation. everybody stay safe đ.
10:47 - you return from a strenuous day of patrol and odd jobs around Jackson. Youâre slightly tipsy, a drink or two from the Tipsy Bison churning a pool of warmth within your stomach.
The place is stagnant when you push the door open, as if coming home to nobody.
Ellie mustâve gone to bed early today.
You drift to the bathroom despite the fact that the house feels apocalyptic, and sit in the gentle rush of water, scrubbing your skin weakly with aching arms.
When you enter your room, everything is still, except for the rhythmic rise and fall of Ellieâs figure beneath the covers on the bed backed against the wall.
You throw the dampened towel that is slung over your shoulder carelessly and walk over to the bed, gently settling beside her.
For a while, you feel content. Sleep is lulling you in, the room is shadowy, the bed is warm, and the sound of Ellieâs deep-sleep-breaths (totally not snores at all, she swears) are soft like TV static in the back of your mind.
Your eyes are on the verge of fluttering close for the last time tonight so you turn onto your side and nestle into the crook of your shoulder.
Then, thereâs a harsh jolt and the bed shifts. You can feel Ellieâs puzzled gaze raking over you, the realisation that youâre home setting, and your lips twist into a smile subconsciously. The night rarely ends without the inebriating buzz of affection.
A quiet sigh escapes the enclosure of her blush-pink lips before she reclines into the pillows once more, eyes never leaving the still curvature of your figure. Not a moment passes and her arms encircle your waist, warmth embracing your torso and pressing against your hair like a wreathe of absolute comfort.
A barely audible mumble tickles the helix of your ear,
âHey, babe,â accompanied by the phantom touch of her lips against your cheeks in her half-asleep state. You scrunch your nose before turning into the love she offers you.
âHey, Els.â
You begin to mumble butterfly details about the happenings of the day as you feel the surface of her skin raise with goosebumps under the delicate tracing of your fingertips - down her bare thighs, along the round of her hip, along her stomach and under her boobs - easing airy chuckles out of her.
âWhatcha doinâ?â
âHm? NothinââŚâ
You can already picture the smirk on her dazed face,
âYa sure there? You want somethinâ, babe?â
A playful scoff and sheâs looking at you with feigned shock against the weight of tired eyelids,
âCanât I feel you? I just wanna be close to you,â
âIâd say weâre pretty close, ya know?â
âNever close enough,â you clarify and the rasp of her laugh fades into silence and she presses a kiss onto your head, and then another, straining her neck till sheâs face to flushed and grinning face, stringing a blizzard of soft, dewy kisses across it.
âAlright, alright!â
âOne more- mwah,â she smacks her lips against your scrunched up mouth aggressively, leaving a gross patch of saliva, and smiles dumbly to herself, tightening the hold of her arms around you to which you groan.
Tight against her gentle sway, she mutters a quiet confirmation,
âNever close enough,â and then runs the rough pads of her fingertips along the expanse of your skin, lingering a moment on your thighs.
Itâs like the rustle of a spring breeze and it draws your eyes to a close.
As you drift further from the surface, you feel the soft tingle of Ellieâs foot nudging your ankle and the distant haze of her voice whispering,
âYou sure you donât want anything, baby?â and youâre asleep.
also, absolutely no one asked for this but here are some pictures of my fat ass cat (cutest patootie evah đđ):
#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie fluff#ellie the last of us#ellie x fem reader#tlou2#tlou fanfiction#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams tlou#fanfic#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x reader#ellie smut#ellie williams smut#tlou part 2#the last of us#drabble#the last of us x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie x you#ellie x y/n#cocteau twins#lesbian#gay#ellie williams headcanons
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