#based on your interactions w him

[tvmblrsillyman]

this fucking form has been haunting my brain for a few days now. got 0 time so i fuckinhgdfhjk did a quickie w/ the help of pixmix since thats the engine that im the most familiar w/ that would get close enough w/ the effect i want

[trimmedarmor]

doing the equivalent of gripping something intensely hard then forcing myself to let it go every time i see something about the stupid fandom drama i got pulled into earlier this year

[etcnnante]

elliott stardew … my dearly beloved …

[perenlop]

ohhhh thinking about the parallels between odin/maya and frost/marlow/valerie rn

[unproduciblesmackdown]

The Billions Showrunners Go To See Bway Bmc like lgw "the problem has always been me" and they look at each other approvingly and nod like now he's getting it :) and then the squip's deactivated and everyone's embracing the realities of being a person and rejecting the idea there can be, should be, and is a set of standards to meet to get everything you want and preclude yourself from being mistreated and they're like nooo what a powerful tragedy :(

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi!! I love your homicipher fics! Have you thought about writing nsfw hcs? Specifically for Mr. Crawling and Silvair? I hope your night / day is going well! :)

⊱ Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair ⊰ || NSFW Alphabet (A-Z) Headcanons

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Character(s): Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silvair (Homicipher/文字化化, Separate) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns, No Sex-Specific Genitalia is Mentioned but it was Written with an AFAB Reader in Mind) Warning(s): 18+ Content, Virgin Asexual Author, Cum Eating, Facials, Minor Objectification, Cuckoldry, Mutual Masturbation, Face-fucking, Sexual Fantasies, Tickling, Praise/Degradation Kink, Breeding Kink/Creampies, BDSM, Overstimulation, Orgasm Control/Denial, Dumbification, Dacryphilia, Hair-pulling, Light Impact Play, Light Breathplay, Implied Cunnilingus/Blowjobs, Cock Warming, Mention/Discussion of Sex Toys… If I missed anything, please let me know! Genre: Headcanons, Smut (Minors Do Not Interact), Fluff Word Count: 7,200 words Request: “Hi!! I love your homicipher fics! Have you thought about writing nsfw hcs? Specifically for Mr. Crawling and Silvair? I hope your night / day is going well! :)” Author’s Note: I’m still very much working on getting better at writing spicier content, and I had no clue how to start writing these kinds of headcanons from scratch, so I went ahead and just filled out the NSFW Alphabet for both Mr. Crawling and Mr. Silvair as a jumping off point! It’s definitely interesting to think about how both of these characters would be in a sexually intimate setting, especially since – at least in my mind – they’d be quite different from each other in a variety of aspects even if they did have some overlap on a few of the points. I did my best to keep each of their headcanons at a similar word length (which was kind of hard to do with my Mr. Crawling bias, but I think I accomplished it haha). Anyway, I hope you enjoy these headcanons! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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A: Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

👣: Mr. Crawling is immensely clingy after having sex, holding onto you and pretty much refusing to let go as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck or your hair. While he doesn’t want to get up from the bed or leave after the two of you have been intimate, if you’re hungry or thirsty or if you want to go take a bath, he’s happy to go fetch you something to restore your energy or help you to the bathroom to clean up. He’s quite good at aftercare, even if he doesn’t realize what he’s doing counts as it. Mr. Crawling just likes making you feel good, and he wants to keep you safe and happy! His favorite thing to do is help you bathe; he enjoys the way the warm water feels on his skin while he washes your back for you. 

💉: Mr. Silvair isn’t too affectionate after the two of you are intimate, but he’ll check up on you and ask if you need him to get you anything. If your wrists were rubbed raw from the restraints he had placed on you, he would make sure to carefully wrap gauze around your irritated skin. If you were thirsty or hungry, he would locate something safe for you to consume to get your strength back up. If you feel sticky or gross afterward, he’ll carefully wipe your body with a wet cloth to make sure you are clean and comfortable. He lets you sleep and typically goes about his own business. Sometimes, though, Mr. Silvair finds himself watching over you to make sure you’re breathing steadily, carefully combing his fingers through your hair. 

B: Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

👣: Mr. Crawling doesn’t have a favorite part of your body since he honestly enjoys every aspect of you but, if he had to choose, he loves your hands. He knows that they can hurt people and cause a lot of pain, but he loves the way they feel when you cup his face to softly caress it or whenever you thread your fingers through his hair. For himself, Mr. Crawling loves his hair the most (I know it’s not technically a body part, but I think it makes the most sense for him); he pretty much melts whenever you play with it, and his head is quite sensitive, so he blue screens whenever you pull at his hair or rake your nails across his scalp. I also feel like Mr. Crawling would be proud of his arms since they’re fairly toned considering they’re his primary means of getting around. Because of his impressive strength, despite what his thinner frame may portray, he’s able to hold you up and move you around with relative ease (he 100% can manhandle you, but only will if you’re cool with it). 

💉: Mr. Silvair finds every aspect of your body fascinating, and he could probably explain why each part of you was interesting from a medical perspective or that everything was pleasant to look at in one way or another. If he had to pick a favorite part of your body, though, he would have to say it’s your head (I know, kind of weird, but he does appreciate your intelligence and, well… Ending 06 is my other piece of reasoning haha). Specifically, though, he likes your mouth. He enjoys being able to hold your head in place while your jaw hangs open, all while he just goes to town while you drool and choke around his cock. Don’t worry, though – he’ll find some remedy to lessen the soreness you feel in your throat afterward. For himself, he’s quite proud of his hands. Mr. Silvair is skilled at many things, and being able to make you come undone with his fingers alone makes him feel a sense of power (plus, you called them pretty once, and it made him feel good). 

C: Cum (Anything to do with cum)

👣: Mr. Crawling gets extremely flustered whenever he sees his cum on any part of your body, from your hair to your face to your stomach. The sight of it alone on your skin makes his brain short-circuit and body flare up – it only makes him want to touch you even more. He likes being able to clean you up, too, leaning forward before he runs his tongue along your body or face, making sure there wasn’t a single drop of his cum left on you (even if now it meant you were covered in saliva…). He doesn’t mind tasting himself, but it most certainly doesn’t compare to your flavor. 

💉: I probably need to ask you to stay with me on this one, but I think Mr. Silvair would probably keep your cum stored away in a sample tube or something along those lines, having a desire to run tests on it to see what he could create. Views your cum as a valuable resource in his research...yay? Maybe he could even use your release to invent some kind of lubricant since that’s not easily accessible in the other world and make having sex much more streamlined… or he just keeps it around to show you later and see your reaction to the fact he keeps your cum stored away in his laboratory to tease you. 

D: Dirty Secret

👣: The thought of taking you in public, in a space where no one but you could see him, makes his mind race and his body feel like it was on fire – this man can act like a feral dog sometimes. I mean, even you sometimes forgot he was there, unable to see his form unless you concentrated hard enough, so imagine if the two of you went out somewhere in public and he (with your consent, of course), just started touching you? Groping your ass, his face between your legs as he runs his hands along your inner thighs… no one can see that it’s him making your face flush and not the excuse of a fever you told the concerned stranger in the hopes they would leave you alone. When you half-heartedly glare at him to try and get him to lay off for a bit, he just laughs at your expression… how rude!

💉: Mr. Silvar wouldn’t be opposed to having a threesome with another resident of the other world. After all, he would be curious to see how differently you acted when another person was there with the two of you, or if your body reacted in an unlikely way if another were to touch you. While I will not write NSFW for Mr. Chopped (the power dynamic there isn’t my favorite thing in the world), he would be the one Mr. Silvair would feel most at ease sharing you with; Mr. Crawling or Mr. Hood would be his second and third choices respectively since he knows how deeply you trust them. He might not even partake in sex either, just sitting off to the side while he lets another use you like a toy. As long as you know your his, though, he doesn’t mind watching you enjoy yourself with another (he has to be there, though). 

E: Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

👣: Mr. Crawling has absolutely zero experience with this kind of stuff, so he would need someone willing to walk him through the whole process, show him what you like, and teach him what and what not to do. What he lacks in experience, though, he makes up for in pure enthusiasm. It’s quite flattering how determined he is when it comes to making you feel good, even if it’s a bit sloppy and unpracticed. His thrusts are extremely unpredictable, never quite finding their rhythm… It’s alright, though; he’ll definitely get better with more time and the more he gets to understand what your body likes. You just have to give him the time to improve, and he’ll be certain to leave you breathless. 

💉: Mr. Silvair also has no experience when it comes to sex, or at least not any while he’s resided in the other world. He is a life-long learner through and through, though, and there’s nothing in the universe he’s not willing to learn about, especially if it has to do with humans and their anatomy. His thrusts are frighteningly accurate, being able to hit your most sensitive inner spots with ease to have you begging him to give you a moment to breathe. He’s an almost terrifyingly fast learner, too, being able to apply whatever new information he’s observed and gathered within moments. He can do it perfectly, too, and he does it in a way that has you questioning whether he was telling the truth when he said this was his first time doing anything like this. 

F: Favorite Position

👣: When it comes to favorite positions, Mr. Crawling loves being able to hold you close to him while also being able to see your face (he has to kiss you during sex – sorry, I don’t make the rules). He enjoys the rocking horse position since it allows him to be able to hold you close while still being able to maintain eye contact with you and easily have access to cover your face in kisses. While he prefers being the one making you feel good, Mr. Crawling would also enjoy the cowgirl position. He’s happy to let you use him to your heart's content while being able to look up and soak in the pleased look that’s plastered across your features while you slam your hips up and down on his cock. 

💉: Mr. Silvair personally enjoys the butterfly position, having you lay on your back atop his operation table all while he can watch and take mental notes on every single facial expression you make and every single twitch of your muscles while he drives you absolutely insane. He would also enjoy missionary, but he would spice it up a little bit by having your hands or wrists tied to something. After all, he doesn’t want you to touch him unless he says you can – just lay there quietly while he completely wrecks you with that annoyingly calm expression on his face. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy when you touch him, though. Mr. Silvair simply prefers being the one in charge and determining when and where you’re able to feel his skin beneath your hands. 

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)  

👣: Acts goofy most of the time during sex, even if he doesn’t mean to. He likes being able to make you happy, and he finds your laughter to be music to his ears. Sometimes you two will be having sex, and he’ll suddenly start giggling completely unprovoked, just finding the experience with you so joyful. Being with you in any capacity makes his chest feel light and fluttery as a sense of giddiness flows through his veins. He’ll wrap his arms around you and nuzzle into your neck, causing your body to spasm and tighten around him while his long hair drapes over you and tickles your skin. Overall, Mr. Crawling enjoys being more playful when the two of you are intimate since it adds to the overall experience for him. 

💉: Prefers to be serious while having sex. He treats the whole process of intercourse like one would treat a research project which, honestly, can make you feel a bit annoyed in some instances (Mr. Silvair still doesn’t quite understand why, though). He’s methodical in everything he does, and being light-hearted or purposefully humorous isn’t high on his list of things to do. He has no problem if you want to be silly, however. He finds it cute when you try to see if you can make him chuckle. It endears you to him more, and it makes him want to keep you around for even longer. The only goofy thing he does is gently run his fingers up and down your sides while thrusting into you, finding the way your body wriggles and writhes away from his touch to be adorable. 

H: Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

👣: I think Mr. Crawling would have fairly long hair beneath the metaphorical belt. His pubic hair would be thick, curly, and a very dark shade of black. He doesn’t really keep himself groomed (kind of hard to do in his world, plus it was never a priority for him), but if you would prefer him to keep it trimmed, he’d be happy to! He doesn’t care one way or another. 

💉: Mr. Silvair comes off to me as someone who would enjoy keeping themselves groomed and their appearance well-maintained, and I mean every inch of his body. I think he would have either no pubic hair or pubic hair that was trimmed to be the perfect length. If he did have any hair below the belt, it would be a gray color, one that was a shade darker than his regular hair and wavy in texture. 

I: Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

👣: One of the more human-like members of the cast when it comes to his affections; he’s as romantic as a non-human being can be. Mr. Crawling loves holding you close as he ruts into you like a wild dog, whispering praises against your skin. He even tries his best to learn phrases in your language so he can tell you how much you mean to him without you having to try and decipher it. He’s always so, so soft with you when you two are having sex. He’s honored that you’d let him have you in such a way, and finds your trust in him heartwarming – he trusts you, too, with his entire heart and soul. 

💉: Mr. Silvair canonically doesn’t comprehend the concept of “liking” or loving someone, so that also translates into sex with him. All he knows is that he finds you entertaining to be around and that he’s somewhat endeared to you at this point. He’s not romantic but, in between teasing you and making you cry (whether it be in frustration or overstimulation), he’s checking in on you to make sure that you’re still comfortable. He knows sex can be invasive, and he’s aware of how much regard the act is held in by some people in your world, so he does his best to respect that... Even if he does need to check himself every now and again. 

J: Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

👣 and 💉: Neither of them masturbates much because they simply don’t have a desire or time to do so. Mr. Crawling would rather wait for you to be there so you two can enjoy yourselves together, and Mr. Silvair simply has more important matters to attend to. That’s not to say they never masturbate, though, it’s just typically a rare occurrence. 

👣: Mr. Crawling typically masturbates by rutting up against something, like a pillow, rather than taking himself in his hand. His thoughts before meeting you were just focusing on the physical sensation of his cock sliding against the fabric of his clothing, but now he finds himself thinking of you – the way your voice sounds when you coo sweet words in his ear, the warmth of your body. Imagining your hands gently touching his chest and hips makes him cum right then and there, almost embarrassingly quickly… Yeah, he’s down bad. 

💉: Mr. Silvair treats masturbating as a chore. He’d much rather be doing something else than leaning against the wall of his operation room while his hand goes absolutely ham on his dick. He knows which areas on his body get the most reaction, so he purposefully presses all of his buttons just so he can be done with it quicker. This doesn’t change after meeting and getting to be intimate with you, though, he still sees it as a chore… Just now he imagines cumming on your face or inside you whenever he finally reaches his climax. 

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

👣: 

Mutual Masturbation: He likes spending time with you and doing things together, so why not spend some time watching each other explore yourselves? He likes observing you as you touch yourself, making mental notes of every spot on your body that have you biting your lip and furrowing your brows. While I wouldn’t say he’s into voyeurism since he does like being with you while you touch yourself instead of tucked away in the shadows just watching, he focuses more on the way your hands touch and caress your skin instead of focusing on the way he moves his hands across his body. Doesn’t last very long doing this, though, eventually pouncing on you and touching you himself.

Overstimulation (Giving): Mr. Crawling loves overstimulating you, even if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it half of the time. He just enjoys seeing you become a blabbering mess all because of him; he takes great pride in being able to make you feel good. However, the first time you started crying because he was simply giving you too much, he felt so guilty – the poor man was on the verge of tears thinking he made you feel bad. 

Praise Kink: While praising you is a bit more difficult considering the language barrier and the limited amount of words and phrases he has to choose from, he still loves doing it. Muttering against your skin how you’re doing such a good job, how he loves you so much, how you make him so happy. Mr. Crawling definitely makes sure to reassure you both inside and outside of the bedroom. 

Hair Pulling (Receiving): He loves, loves, loves it whenever you take his hair in your hand and give it a firm tug. Mr. Crawling enjoys it whenever he’s going down on you and you take his hair into your hands and push him even closer, making him become fully immersed in your scent and taste. 

Sensation Play: While Mr. Crawling may not enjoy more painful experiences, he does like general sensation play quite a bit. He likes the feeling of your breath fanning against his skin while you pepper his flesh with gentle kisses and nips. He enjoys tickling you while his hips sensually thrust in and out, feeling the way you squeeze around him as breathless and airy giggles escape past your lips. He loves whispering into your ear while running his tongue along it before taking your lobe between his teeth and lightly tugging.  

💉: 

Breeding Kink/Creampie: Mr. Silvair, after learning more about human reproduction, has a deep-seated curiosity regarding whether or not the two of you would be able to have offspring. That’s kind of what starts this particular kink for him – he wants to know if you both are sexually compatible in that aspect, and he is curious what the resulting child would look and act like if they were born in the other world. If you’re unable to give birth or get pregnant, even if his initial interest in breeding is certainly from a more scientific aspect, he still finds the image of you full of his seed while it drips down the curve of your ass to be quite arousing. 

Bondage/Shibari (Giving): He enjoys tying you up and pinning you down, being able to have full control over you in the bedroom. He’s perfectly content if you agree to light bondage, like having your hands restrained, and would never ask you to do anything more than that. However, if you trust him enough and feel comfortable doing some more intense bondage, he’s not going to complain. Would definitely be interested in the art of shibari, finding the way the rope looks pressing into your skin tantalizing. 

Orgasm Control/Denial (Giving): Another kink that feeds into his desire for control. Mr. Silvair enjoys being the one in charge of your release, and he likes seeing how far he can push you until you finally break and plead for him to let you cum. He loves seeing how stupid and desperate he can make you, sometimes with just his fingers alone. 

Overstimulation (Giving): Much like orgasm control/denial, he likes pushing you to your breaking point. However, unlike the previous bullet, he likes seeing how much stimulation you can take until you’re crying for him to stop. He thinks it’s fascinating, seeing how quickly your desire for his touch can change – one moment you’re begging for him to touch you, and the next you’re weakly pushing his hand away. He does eventually relent, of course, but only after letting you cry for a bit. 

Dacryphilia: There’s something about seeing your tear-streaked face that makes it feel like he’s just been hit with an arrow in his chest. It’s endearing and oh-so cute the way you look while you sob all because he’s making you feel that good. It makes him feel proud, in a way, seeing you in such a pathetic state all because of him. 

L: Location (Favorite places to do the do)

👣: He enjoys having sex with you on a bed (boring, I know), but he likes the softness of the mattress and the many pillows and blankets that can be used to bring even more comfort by keeping the heat from your bodies trapped. He also likes taking you in small, enclosed spaces, like an empty locker or cabinet (sorry folks with claustrophobia). Much like the reasoning with the bed, he likes how the smaller space forces you both to be immensely close to each other. Plus, these spaces bring him comfort, so why not mix the two things that make him feel safe together? 

💉: Either in his laboratory/operation room or in one of the many different cages or prison cells that he has access to (bonus points if you allow him to chain you up hehe). Mr. Silvair doesn’t need a soft mattress or pillows to enjoy sex with you. He’s fine taking you on his operation table or the cold concrete floor of the small prison cell, even if your back moving up and down across the ground rubs your skin raw. He’ll patch you up after, no worries, but he doesn’t need a lot of bells and whistles to have an enjoyable time. 

M: Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

👣: Sweet words and gentle touches. The other world is one full of violence and death, one where survival trumps all else. While there are entities like him who only resort to violence when either their safety or the safety of someone they’re fond of is in danger, it’s still not a happy or bright place to exist. Mr. Crawling does what he can to enjoy life, laughing in situations that probably aren’t even that funny just to try and make existing more enjoyable. Then you come along and make him feel cared for – loved – and safe, and he’s never been happier. Being able to lay with you, to feel you clench around his cock with your warmth while you pepper kisses across his face and let him know how good he is… Yeah, this is the life. 

💉: Power and control. He enjoys being able to restrict your movement, being able to dictate when and where you’re allowed to cum and, if you disobey him, he’ll punish you with a sadistic smile on his face. However, he would be lying if he said that was all. Mr. Silvair thinks the fact you trust him with your safety – your life, your heart, your existence – gets him going, whether he realizes it or not. Trusting another in the other world showcases how much two people believe in the fact the other would not do anything to purposefully harm them, and you feel that way toward him (and he feels the same toward you). Whenever you call out his “name,” the one you had given him, he finds his hips unconsciously moving even faster at the sound...

N: No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

👣: Anything involving pain would be a hard no for Mr. Crawling, both giving and receiving. Even though his senses are dull and what would be extremely painful for a human wouldn’t be for him, he still doesn’t particularly enjoy being harmed. When it comes to hurting you in any way, that’s pretty much something he will never concede on. He doesn’t want to do a single thing to hurt you, even if it’s an enjoyable kind of pain. 

💉: Pretty much nothing is off the table for him – Mr. Silvair enjoys experimenting, and that’s no different for him in the bedroom. The only extremely hard no would be coprophilia since he just doesn’t see the appeal nor does he want to test to see if he would like it or not. I also feel like he wouldn’t necessarily want a bratty partner or a partner who is constantly trying to take control back in the bedroom. 

O: Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

👣: Loves giving oral 101%, and he will give it to you anywhere – in public, in private, while you’re sleeping (with your consent, of course). Mr. Crawling adores having his mouth on you, being able to taste every single part of you while his tongue forces its way inside you, feeling your release dripping past his lips or dribbling down his chin… You taste good, too, better than anything he’s ever had before; he might get addicted to it, to be honest. He eats you out/blows you like a man starving, wanting a chance to have a taste and make you cry out his name while you pull harshly on his black locks and encourage him to keep going. He’s very enthusiastic about it, too, putting in so much effort and energy to get you cumming on his face or in his mouth. 

💉: Prefers giving oral over receiving it, but it’s not his favorite thing to do either way. It’s nothing personal, he just prefers using his hands, his cock, or a toy to get you off rather than his mouth. If he does allow you to give him a blowjob, he’ll place a collar around your neck and pull on the chain if you get cheeky – after all, he’s the one in charge here. Mr. Silvair enjoys making you kneel in front of him, watching you with a small smile as you take him into your hands and pump once or twice before taking him into your mouth. If the rare occurrence happens when he gives you head, you better thank the universe. He looks so hot, holding your thighs apart while he slowly runs his tongue along your length/slit and teases you until you’re asking him to touch you more. 

P: Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)  

👣: Enjoys the slower and sensual side of things, but he typically can’t control himself as soon as he’s inside of you, so he ends up being somewhat fast and rough (not all the time, though... his thrusts remain immensely unpredictable no matter what, and he never seems to find a good rhythm to follow). Mr. Crawling enjoys the intimacy of sex, and he finds comfort in the closeness of your bodies while you two are connected at the hips. He loves being able to hold your hands and place kisses across your cheeks. Sometimes, he’s so caught up in the act of showering you with words of praise and sweet displays of affection that he forgets the fact he’s currently inside you and is supposed to be moving. He does see the appeal of rougher sex, though – it makes him feel almost animalistic whenever you two decide to set the pace for the night. 

💉: Mr. Silvair can quickly switch between the two, sometimes almost at a break-neck speed, to the point it feels like you got whiplash from the sudden change of deep and slow thrusts to fast and somehow even deeper ones (he’s very precise when it comes to hitting those sweet spots inside of you – it’s actually kind of terrifying how quickly he can locate them). He pretty much does whatever he thinks will get the most reaction out of your body and acts accordingly – nothing more, nothing less. He tends to prefer rougher and faster sex, enjoying the noises the quick snap of his hips can draw out of your mouth. However, sometimes, he finds himself preferring a slower and softer pace. This way, he’s able to focus on and truly soak in the expression on your face and appreciate the way your body feels under his palms (this sometimes just leads to you cock warming him). 

Q: Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)  

👣: Mr. Crawling is down for anything at any time. Pretty much, if you ask him to have sex, he’ll happily do it for you. Need him to eat you out or give you a blowjob, he’ll gladly oblige! After all, he is always pretty much kneeling, so he’s not being made to go out of his way to do it (even if he would go out of his way to please you). Want something more than just his tongue? That’s perfectly fine, too! There’s a private room over there he’ll gladly take you in, or maybe you’d want to try doing it in the empty locker? He’ll try not to take too long, but it’s hard since he loves being able to enjoy you to the fullest. So, Mr. Crawling can do quickies for sure, but he likes being able to take his time with you.  

💉: While he’s not opposed to quickies, he prefers being able to have proper sex with you to get the most out of it. After all, he can’t exactly see how long it takes for you to break or how much time it takes for you to start crying and babbling if you only have a few minutes to enjoy one another. However, he does make it a little challenge for himself to see how quickly he can get you to climax. Mr. Silvair will even make educated guesses on how fast you’ll finish just by making note of your current expression, body language, etc. He likes seeing how flustered you get if you think someone is going to enter the room the two of you are in, begging him to go faster which only makes him want to slow down – how mean! 

R: Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)  

👣: Mr. Crawling is down to experiment but, as stated before, he doesn’t want to try anything that causes him or you harm, even if pain is something you enjoy. He just has no desire to hurt you in any way, something which is quite different from other members of the cast who are definitely more sadistic (cough, Mr. Silvair and Mr. Machete, cough). I feel like he would be down to partake in certain aspects of BDSM, specifically B/D (bondage and discipline) and D/S (dominance and submission). He just wants to have a good time and be close to you, both physically and emotionally. 

💉: 100% down to experiment with anything (except the previously mentioned coprophilia). If you wanted to try some breathplay or impact play or even blood play, he’d be down for it. I honestly think he would enjoy breathplay since it adds more to the differential in power that he enjoys so much (there’s also a stirring in his chest when he sees how much you trust him with your life, but shhh…). Mr. Silvair is a man hungry for information and new experiences, so yes, he’s willing to try a variety of different things even if they could potentially be dangerous – he’ll always make sure you return to your original form. 

S: Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

👣 and 💉: Both of them are inhuman, which means that neither of them need any food, water, or rest to survive. Honestly, the two of them have unlimited amounts of stamina, and they can go for as long as you need them to (which could be two rounds or even eight – nothing is holding them back in the stamina department). 

T: Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

👣 and 💉: Neither of them owns any toys because, well… you can’t access them easily in the other world. If they do end up there, though, they’re probably dirty or damaged beyond repair (please do not use nasty sex toys, people – infections and diseases are no joke). 

👣: Mr. Crawling would be down to use toys on you! After all, why not? It’ll just make the experience more fun, right? You’ll probably have to explain what he’s supposed to do with them, though, since he’s not quite sure what some of them are for. If you want to use toys on him, he’s completely fine with that! Want to wear a strap and give him backshots? Go right ahead! Want to tape vibrators to him until he’s whining and writhing? He’d be happy to oblige! Overall, he’s pretty chill about it and is somewhat enthusiastic about adding toys into your sex life. 

💉: Mr. Silvair enjoys using sex toys on you, some of his favorites being cock rings/chastity belts, strangely-shaped dildos, and vibrators. He loves being able to secure the variety of different vibrators he owns to your body, making sure to cover every erogenous zone he’s noted. He doesn’t typically want toys used on him (but he’d probably try out a variety of different sex toys on himself after a while, though, curious about how each of them felt or what they did), however, and the only one he’d be willing to use consistently would be fleshlights. He’d make you watch him use it, never once allowing you to use them on him. 

U: Unfair (How much they like to tease)

👣: Mr. Crawling is very fair, and he always makes sure to give you exactly what you want in the bedroom. However, that’s not to say he never teases you, he just doesn’t do it very frequently. Sometimes when he’s going down on you, he’ll pause his minstrations to nip at or kiss the fat of your thighs, keeping your hips held down so you can’t buck up against his mouth. When you start getting antsy, he just giggles at your expression before returning his attention to that oh-so-needy part of you. 

💉: If the word unfair was personified, it would be Mr. Silvair. I’d argue teasing you and making you cry – either because you can’t cum or have cum ten times in a row – are the aspects of sex that he enjoys the most. Edging you is one of his favorite things, though, watching you whine and try to move your hips on your own when he stops moving… bad move, though, because now he’s just going to make you wait even longer for release. 

V: Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

👣: He’s not loud, per se, but he does make quite a variety of different noises whenever the two of you are intimate. He whimpers and whines frequently while you’re having sex – they’re barely audible, high-pitched, and come out sounding as though he’s completely out of breath. Sometimes you wonder if he’s in pain with the noises he makes, but he’s not. He just really enjoys being able to feel you like this as he pants like a dog in heat. 

💉: Completely quiet most of the time. Really, the only noises you’ll probably get out of him are barely audible sighs or the sound of his breathing hitching when he feels you stretch/tighten around him. It’s not that Mr. Silvair doesn’t enjoy having sex with you, he just doesn’t express that feeling verbally. You can tell in the way his hand squeezes the fat of your thigh or the way his hips stutter when he moves in and out that he’s having a good time. 

W: Wild Card (Random headcanon)

👣: Mr. Crawling loves taking showers or baths with you, though he leans more towards baths since it’s less painful on his joints (I headcanon that Mr. Crawling can stand, but walking for extended periods of time is painful for him – ambulatory wheelchair user Mr. Crawling when?). While yes, he can technically sit in the shower, having water spray his face isn’t exactly pleasant… He doesn’t view bathing with you as sexual, he just finds it relaxing as he helps you wash your back or you help him make sure all the soap is out of his hair. His favorite scent would have to be lavender – it’s very calming for him. 

💉: He keeps a journal tucked away full of terms and gestures from your world. Mr. Silvair has a deep desire to understand humans and everything they have to offer, even if he believes it's from a stance of craving knowledge (really, he wants to be able to express his endearment of you in a manner you can understand). He has a page on kissing and different kinds of kisses, a page on gestures of endearment, another on hugging and cuddling… The fact that humans’ bodies release a hormone whenever they simply spend time to bond with another socially, a hormone that turns the dial on their brain for whatever emotion they’re currently experiencing, is fascinating to him. 

X: X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

👣: Mr. Crawling is tall – and I mean extremely tall whenever he stands up (my man has got to at least be seven feet), so I can assume that he’s probably relatively proportionate under the belt. I feel like he would be big, almost concerningly so, clocking in at around 8 inches in length. Even though his size is impressive, his dick doesn’t have much girth to it and is on the thinner side, but it is thicker towards the base compared to the head (not that you can take all of him – you can certainly give it a try, though). It’s on the veinier side, too, with a very distinct and present one on the underside of his cock. 

💉: Much like pretty much the entire cast, Mr. Silvair is also on the taller half of the height spectrum. However, I feel as though he would have a more modest, yet of course still impressive dick size. I imagine him to be 6 ½ inches in length and relatively thick from the base to the head with very little change in girth. Whenever you see his cock, you’re kind of awestruck for a moment because how can a man have such a nice-looking dick?? It doesn’t make sense! There’s barely any hair, there’s no visible veins or bumps, and it’s long and thick enough to drive you wild… Plus, it’s just really nice to look at, honestly. 

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

👣 and 💉: Okay, so I know others probably will not agree with me here… but I honestly don’t think anyone in the cast has much of a sex drive, let alone a high one. I mean, they’re not human, so their cultural/social norms are different than ours, and I wouldn’t hold them to “typical” human desires on a biological/psychological level either. As I said before, I doubt any of them have been laid because sex just isn’t something the residents in the other world partake in – they’re too busy killing/fighting others, eating humans who find themselves lost in the other world, etc. Is this my asexual and world-building brain working? Probably haha. 

👣: Mr. Crawling really only wants sex whenever you want it, but he’s always enthusiastic and does get aroused whenever you ask if he wants to be intimate. While he does love feeling the warmth around his dick whenever you’re clamping down on him, almost like you were hugging him and not wanting to let him go, he enjoys the emotional connection during the moment more than anything else. I headcanon him (and all of the cast, to some degree) as existing somewhere on the aroace-spectrum. For Mr. Crawling, I see him as being reciproromantic/sexual with an average libido – he gets riled up whenever you’re riled up, though there are times he does get horny without you needing to do or say anything.  

💉: Much like Mr. Crawling, Mr. Silvair will have sex if you ask him to – he’ll make you beg for it, though, so he’s not as nice as the former. He prefers the control/power he gets from having sex rather than the sole act of intercourse (not to say he doesn’t enjoy the feeling, though). Plus, he finds the activity interesting since he knows it’s something most humans partake in with one another for a variety of reasons, from procreation to recreation. If you ask him to have sex and he isn’t in the mood, he’ll just use his hands or some toys and play around with you until you’re satisfied. I headcanon Mr. Silvair as being quoiromantic and eegosexual with a low libido. 

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

👣: Mr. Crawling doesn’t need to sleep (you know… being non-human and all), but he’ll curl up next to you on the bed and hold your body close to his while pretending to sleep alongside you. It’s kind of adorable, the way his head is nuzzled under your neck while his legs and arms are wrapped around your body, holding you close to him like you were a bodypillow or large stuffed animal. While you sleep, though, he’ll eventually place his head against your chest, listening intently to the sound of your heartbeat and the feeling of your chest rising and falling with each breath. Moments like this, laying there with you in silence, make his mind wander to scenarios with you he’ll never be able to fully experience. 

💉: Does not rest often, finding it a waste of time that could be spent doing something else. He understands you need your sleep, though, so he lets you do it in peace after you both have had sex. Mr. Silvair always manages to somehow make sure you have enough pillows to keep you comfortable or blankets to keep you from getting cold (you can’t help but wonder where he finds clean linens in such a grimy place…). Occasionally, however, he finds himself sitting next to you on the bed, fingers absentmindedly combing through your hair before he pulls his hand back as though you had burnt him – he doesn’t understand it, and he’s desperate to figure out an answer. 

[zevranunderstander]

i wish literally anyone else except for me would in depth care about my pathfinder character and would know like. all the lore and be in the sessions BUT i still wanna do it without the Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Known

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Soft Simon "Ghost" Riley Cuddling You 🧸

this is not about dominant tough simon riley, this is about sweet precious baby boy simon riley :3 this is my response to @paper-r-i-n-g-s-and-c-r-o-w-n’s request (here) and the link they included! thank u for being my first request loviee

Simon Riley absolutely loves to be babied when you cuddle him.

Scary Simon. Soldier Simon. 6’4", jacked Simon, walking around the base in his skull mask, scaring anyone who doesn’t know better shitless. To the enemy, he’s like an urban legend - once you realise that he’s there, it’s too late.

And that’s the image that he likes to keep - he grew up tough, and he refuses to be anything but tough. He might be nice now but he wouldn’t hesitate to blow your brains out if you double-crossed him.

That is, until he met you. It was hard to get him to open up at first, with his reluctance to be anything but casually terrifying, and his fear that he would get too attached, just in time for you to leave. But after 6 months together, he’s finally comfortable, and you’ve discovered his soft spot for being praised like a baby.

"Aww…" you coo, stroking his grown-out buzzcut, as he lays on your chest, "my sweet boy." His broad body is holding you down to the bed, and you know you wouldn’t be able to escape from under him if you wanted to. But you don’t mind, after all, it’s sweet to see him like this. With his face pressed into your neck, one strong arm around your waist and the other around your torso, he mumbles softly.

You press soft kisses into the top of his head as you rub his back - he’s been training all day and he’s so tired. :( Poor baby, he really needs you to hold him. His shoulders are sore and as you rub them gently he lets out a little whine, nuzzling his face further into the crook of your neck.

"Mmm," he groans, his voice muffled against your skin.

"Oh, baby…" you pull those hands back up to cradle him to you, "are you okay, sweet boy?"

"Tha’ hurts," he mumbles. He’s not very talkative when he’s like this, he just wants to be held.

"Sorry," you kiss the top of his head apologetically, "is my poor baby sore from training?" He groans as you call him that, nodding in response as he breathes in your scent.

"Speak up for me, sweetheart" you coo.

"’M sore from training."

"Who’s sore..?"

"Me."

"N what’re you, honey..?" you stroke his hair softly, like he’s a precious teddy bear.

"Your baby," he mumbles.

"Good boy." Just a few months ago, Simon would have been mortified by the interaction, but you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger, cuddling up to you like he’s a cat and you’re a heating pad. He is a good boy, and he deserves some comfort after working so hard. 💗💗💗

(my other - nsfw - story about pathetic simon here)

i hope this is what you asked for! i hope it doesn’t come off as too pathetic but also i love writing (and thinking about) sweet pathetic simon. <3 like omg if anyone knows who made the render then lmk so that i can credit! i wasn’t sure who the name on the image referred to

masterlist buy me a coffee

[cu7ie]

💋 big mouth ☆ ～('▽^人)

⠀⠀✿`` content warnings : gojo can't shut up. cervix fucking. switch reader and gojo. (gojo gets dommy at the end.) porn w/o plot. dirty talking, throat fucking, handjob, face humping, a lot of cum bc i said so nyeh nyeh, oral (dick-sucking/pussy licking), big dick gojo (and he knows it), reader has experience, gojo a little less so. stamina, gojo has it, you don't. cursing (lots of it). name-calling (both sides), afab reader. raw sex minors do not interact! 3.8k words Y'ALL.

⠀⠀✿`` author note : gojo cock is good. based as fuck please talk to me about gojo cock <3 also i fr think hes so annoying hes never quiet!! in my mind he so blah blah blah blah blah during sex . even if he dont like u he blah blah blah. also if you like my porn, reblog it! oh yeah!!! and leave comments omg... this fic got so away from me, idk how long it is its just so much fucking porn- also! @enchantedforest-network partner! join us hehehe

Gojo has a bit of a talking problem.

He's a blabbermouth at the best of times, and maybe in any other situation would you appreciate his insight. He's good at making mountains out of molehills, take your nothing and make it something; even when it's as mundane as the weather, he'll draw up his own storyboard and play all the different actors - reporter, news anchor, cameraman and "Satoru, coming to us live with the forecast,"

and at first it's charming, right? It's what endears most people to him; what attracted you in some respects. Bordering on bit of a god complex, Gojo's always been effortlessly confident; disarmingly charming; handsome to the point of aggravation. He's never a dull moment, always gives it his all, extra even when he's lazy.

But you thought maybe, just maybe,

if you shunt his pants down till they bunch around his ankles, and licked his cock from shaft to tip,

would he shut up then? Would he allow you a moment of silence (relative, because the sound of you sucking all up on his dick is decidedly extremely loud) to let your hair down, let your head bob back and forth, tongue slurping on the underside of his cock while your lips are wrapped firmly round the middle of his shaft?

"You really like sucking my dick, don't you?"

No. The answer is no.

His face has broken out into a smile, and you don't know if he's giggling out of incredulousness or nervousness - but you are surprised that all his blood hasn't gone to his dick, cause his cheeks are red. His hand cradles the back of your head graciously, sweat sliding down his nose because he has to crane his neck to ogle you.

"C'mon. You can take more of it inta your mouth - suck. Fucking suck." His hips shifty as you work your way towards the base of his shaft, and you chose to ignore the comment, what with cock in your mouth and all. He's gotten mouthy before, not like this, but it's nothing you can't handle.

See, Gojo's kinda ... easy. He can act all hard to get - er, mysterious and what not, but he's like any other aloof man with a pretty face. Afraid of gettin' close and not knowin' what to do with it. It, you know, -

And you do, but he keeps fucking up your rhythm by trying to fuck your hand. You give full strokes, rotating your wrist and pumping steady and quick, trying to look Gojo in his eyes as you're doing it, where as his gaze is dead set on your point of contact. "You're just a dog aren'tcha? Hump, hump, humpin', away." Your smile curling at the corners, at how easily he's giving himself to you. He's dripping pre,

His fat fucking cock. Thigh clenching, pussy watering, eye-widening kind of fat. Shit is so big can't even hold itself up, so you tell him "I can hold that for you," and he pants out as he nods rapidly, "Yes, please do." You get to jerking his cock and he's a whiny little bitch. "Faster" this, "More" that, moving your hand up and down his cock like you don't know what you're doing.

"Back up Satoru, I got this."

"Look at you - you're fucking panting."

And you think you'll get away with it. Get just grunt or a sigh in response. But of course his motorboat mouth starts going on...

"Yuh ... you're good, but, " He attempts nonchalance in a cherry tomato cosplay. Red red red all over. "You're holding out on me..." His tongue lolls at you playfully, and you decide anything not singing your praises wasn't worth hearing. He opens his mouth to say something else.

Your stutter your stroke (effectively cutting him off,) working your way to the head and massaging it between your thumb and forefinger. Sweat is pouring from Gojo's forehead. He's hiking his leg further apart on the couch so you have more space to touch him, your body snaking over his thigh, getting close enough for him to be able to feel your steady breaths on his cock. "Fuck! Stop - haah.." He groans like you're working him. You most definitely are. "Stop teasing.."

"A blowjob?" You purse your lips, ponder it over. "Think you'll be able to make it to the fucking?" Your breathing gets closer, and you feel him throb in your hand. "You sure seem excited! Just don't blow your load down my throat, save it for my pussy." You're teasing, licking your lips and pressing a sloppy kiss to his mushroom head. You could swear it'd gotten a little harder than before.

Only in those moments could you have recognized you gave the man a little too much power. When your pillowy, spit slicked lips wrapped around his throbbing cockhead, licking up the pre on your eager tongue, looking down and breathing deeply through your nose. He can hardly keep himself from lifting his hips and trying to pop through the other side of your throat with the damn thing!

Now, he's just a boy too big for his damn britches. He knows you give good head because of the way you move your tongue and jerk off whatever you can't reach, but it's not good enough head. He's big, sure, but for someone who talks like they fuck n' suck on the regular, something about the performance is feeling a wee bit lackluster...

And while you're busy thinking about how you got here, he's impatiently jutting his hips against your face.

"You listening to me?" His finger teasingly taps at your forehead, getting you out of your train of thought. "Don't tell me - I've already fucked your brains out? Maybe you're just a lil' cock-drunk. Got a remedy for that..."

He thrusts his hips and the rest of his dick tucks itself snugly into your wet warm mouth, head brushing past your uvula and nestling comfortably in your throat. You can't see the way your throat bulged a little, but you most definitely feel it. You make a noise, half-choke-half-whine, and he laughs gaily at the way his balls pap your chin. "Ah? You said something?" He peers down curious, your nose mingling well with the fluffy little hairs at the base of his cock.

You don't forget to breathe, although your eyes tear a little from his size. Your jaw and throat are being stretched to capacity, but you remind yourself 'through your nose'. It's fine for a bit longer - you bob up and down in relatively uninterrupted peace, til Gojo's hand on the back of your head gets a little too comfortable. "Just a little more... suck a little harder..."

Your face burns and you clutch at it, staring at him your the gaps in your fingers as he tucks into your pussy like it's supper. He's alright at it. He doesn't do it like all he's seen is shitty porn - he's really ... getting in there, actually. Oooh.... Ohh..

He starts trying to take over your flow, his grip firm enough to start bobbing your head up and down all on his own. Like your throat is just some fleshy, tight hole to fuck. Kinda makes your pussy drool, but that's besides the point. "Oh fuck.."

You moan and take it. Let him hump up into your mouth as his musk sorta clogs your nose. He's moaning so loud it drowns out most other cohesive thoughts in your mind, the plumpness of his balls cushioning your chin a little every time he tugs your head down. He's muttering stuff you can barely hear over the sound of sucking.

"Pretty baby. Here's to hoping you'll never suck anyone else's dick this good again.... holy shit..."

Eventually his grip lets up a little. It allows you more freedom in your movement for a bit. Though your jaw starts hurting sooner than later, so you give his balls a little pinch and he finally lets you up to take in a big good gulp of air.

His voice is a little shaky. "That was ... fuck ... that was nice." Your voice is a little raw, more croaky when you respond, "Just nice?" flicking his balls in irritation as you take huffing breaths. His cock twitches, shiny and coated in saliva, your drool dripping down over his sack - altogether one of your prettier pictures. "Y'know... what'd make that blowjob just a bit better?" He breathes like he missed oxygen, his sigh half content and mostly wheedling as one hand creeps towards the base of his cock, and his other gets comfy on your ass.

"You wanna fuck, Satoru?" He feigns a gasp, his mouth popping into a little surprised 'o' shape. His face can't belie his excitement, his palms clasping together almost comically before he realizes what he's doing and stops.

"Where could you have ever got that idea from...?" He says, jerking his cock a little and pointing it up to the sky. "Get over here." He pats your cheek with it. You're not against the idea, but Gojo hasn't impressed you enough yet. You poke it away with your finger, sitting up and shuffling out of your underwear. There's enough space on the couch that you can flop onto your back, looking at Gojo from between your legs, pussy pretty and glistening with your arousal.

The way he looks at you makes you squeeze down on absolutely nothing. Flustered yet wild like an animal, apprehensive like he's never sucked a clit before.

"Head first, then we fuck."

"Oh?" Gojo starts fighting to get his shirt off his head, scampering forward so fast he nearly falls into your pussy lips. "Easy boy! Down, down..." You mutter, his fingers digging into your thighs and spreading them clumsily. The aforementioned effortless confidence of Gojo seems to break away into something more sincere and somber when he lowers himself down to kiss your clit. The way he chooses to maintain eye contact throughout makes your heart flutter, and you get a bit of slick on his lips on accident.

His tongue darts over it. "Itadakimasu."

"Oh my fucking god..." Your chest almost deflates at how serious he is, nodding like he's bowing before going in with his tongue.

"Mmf..." Your sigh flutters out of you, becoming a full blown moan as his mouth firmly suctions over your clit and little labia, licking firmly and decisively. Like all of a sudden he knows what he's doing. His attention is most often directed towards your clit, suckling on it and making your thighs twitch. You push them against the side of his head but he forces you to spread them wider again, just to fuck a finger or two into you first.

Your pussy makes a little schlick noise, readily accepting him in the hot warmth of your cunt. "That's a good sign.." He meanderingly strokes his chin. "Take dick that well too?" Your head perks up, teasing underlined with irritation.

"Course. Now suck please, I liked you more with a mouth full." You smile shakily and Gojo seems to laugh in kind. Your smile is cut off by a gasp and shudder as Satoru firmly presses his finger into your wall, lifting his mouth to get a better look at your pussy as he's stretching it open. "M'sorry, did I cut you off?"

He licks the remnants of you from his damp lips, two fingers slowly thrusting in and out. All you can do is sigh, one legs flopped off the couch and the other slung over the back of it. He's alright at this. Not as good as him giving head, but it's not terrible either. Maybe you just like seeing him be quiet for more than a second.

His fingers feel like they're looking for something. First he's pushing down, and when you only grunt in response, he starts gently feeling around for that little pocket of sunshine...

"Up." You whimper, aroused but irritated with his finagling. Your hand slides down the front of your stomach, pressing softly on a spot right before your lips start and where your hair would begin to grow. "Around th-there... You got thaat?-" If his grin is anything to go by, he most certainly does. First he presses up into it like it's a button, which makes you squeak and yelp and clutch the couch, bracing for impact. Then he slowly opts you into the pleasure, trying to apply the right kind of pressure to massage a couple moans out of you, your juices coating his hand and dripping to his wrist.

"Oh, oh.." He winks cheekily as you sling your leg over his lap, positioning his cock till it's brushing up against your pretty lips, pre-cum dripping from the head of his cock as your warmth beckons him further. "...save a horse..." He sighs happily as you sink down onto him.

"Hey - don't turn my couch into a slip n' slide now." You groan, clenching down on his fingers like you mean to squeeze the life out of them. "Need - I need more." You snort when he tries to go for a third finger. He clues in quick.

"Dick? I gotchu, don't even worry about that." He tries to slide atop you to complete this jigsaw, but you got a different idea in making these pieces all fit. You push him backwards with your foot a little, getting up off your back in one motion. He backs up to allow you space, clocked in to your movements just a tad.

"Oh my God Satoru." You groan out as the tip of his cock stretches you out, your pussy sucking him up so so greedily, like you'd been waiting all night. "What... don't like my banter babe?" Gojo grunts and your brows furrow, his hand jumping to your hips and steading you when you swoon.

"N-no... Just ... aaaah .." You squeeze his shaft and he actually honest to god chokes on air. "Just - oh fuck - just shut up for a sec. Let me have thissss..." You're halfway down now, Gojo gently coaxing you further and starting to rock his hips.

Pulling up with ease and sliding down further on his fat shaft with effort, Gojo stretches you open so good your legs keep trembling, your breathing hurried even after a couple minutes - and while Gojo seems to be enjoying himself (very, very much so), he's smiling up at you and your effort, very plainly amused. Sweat starting to trickle down your forehead, you're sat wondering what's so funny.

"Yeah yeah yeah. Go on - I'm definitely not stopping you." He sighs deep, his head lolling over the couch as you start lifting yourself up and down, your hand reaching up and going for your nipples. He's too focused on your wet pussy to pay you mind for a bit, but then he's drawn to them, hypnotized. He pulls on your left with his fingers, nibbles on your right with his teeth.

"Oh!" Gojo's blue eyes flick up, wrinkled at the corners. "Mno teef?" He says, still attached to your nipple. The vibration makes you laugh, more of his cock pressing into you as your muscles relax. "Teeth is ... teeth is fine." Gojo resumes his plucking. He lets you use his cock a little like a dildo. In fact, he kind of reminds you of a perfect Ken doll. Smooth muscles you can run your hands over, nice built shoulders, pornstar dick...

"Nuffin..." He mumbles around your areola, going back to sucking and scheming. Whatever. You focus on bouncing on this cock.

...

Opting to do most of the work probably wasn't the best decision. Your legs are championing through, but you're pretty tired, and after figuring out Gojo's dick is big enough to meet your cervix you've been having the time of your life. Sometimes you get too tired to lift yourself, so Gojo is oh-so-very helpful in grinding up into you, smearing his little pre-cum kisses up against your cervix.

"I'll even do all the work." His grin was smarmy, but you didn't clock it at the time. It's cute and still makes your pussy throb, so "Go," you say. "Go off, babe."

You're gonna cum soon. Gojo notices how tight you get when it's about to happen. His take over is a little subtle, but you're so interested in reaching that stiff peak, that tightening in your stomach, just chasing, chasing, chasing,

Gojo thinks, "like a dog." He smirks into your chest. Your cursing abruptly cuts into his thoughts, however -

"Shit! - fuck fuck fuck - ugh!" Every word is punctuated by a last effort of raising and falling, raising and falling, raising, and then being pulled. Gojo tugs your hips down and your pussy spasms as your body jerks.

"Satoru!" You yelp reflexively before something like a whimper weasels itself from your lips. You tighten around Gojo and it hurts a little because he's so thick, but you moan into his shoulder unbothered. A little broken, voice horse, but mostly unbothered. Til he starts moving his hips again.

"The fuck?" You stutter, a little caught off guard as you're suddenly shifted, up and down not from your own movement, but Gojo's rabid humping. "I'm almost there - soo close - can we keep goin', pretty please?" He grinds his hips into your orgasm terribly slowly, trying to get your brain to clock into overtime.

He carefully saws himself in, making your back arch at the sensation. He slides your knees apart and holds the back of them firmly, tugging you the rest of the way onto him. The meandering pace of sex before is tossed to the side.

And regret isn't quite the right word, but you'll feel something a little like it in a second.

"Whatever you say."

Your body is boneless, so it's pretty easy for Gojo to scoop you up, though it doesn't surprise you any less. Says there's not enough space on the couch for him to spread his wings, so he lugs you back to his cozy little room, and plops you onto his bed. Towards the edge of it, so your legs dangle off as he positions himself in front of you, holding his cock at the base - which now looks angrier than before. Instead of the blushy pink dusting it at the tip, it's a deeper, aggravated red now - slapping against your cunt like this motherfucker has places to be. "Open uppp~"

You were fucking Gojo before. Now he's fucking you. Any apprehension, slow-to-start bashfulness, gone with the wind. Once the head pushes past your entrance, a good five inches of cock go alongside it immediately after. Gojo's hiking your legs onto his shoulder's as he watches your eyes suddenly blow wider than saucers, laughing genuinely at the break in your nonchalance and worn facade.

"I should have answered you properly earlier." He says, brushing a stand of sweat slicked hair away from your forehead. He leans down so close, lips a little touch and go, the intention in his eye serious and cutting. With the movement, the last couple inches of cock fill you out, making you eep! But not breaking his focus in the slightest. "I want to fuck." He drags his hips molasses like, till the head is back at your entrance. He slides it back in smoothly, earnest chuckle overshadowed by your pitchy whimper.

"But I assume you got the memo - so," The sound of skin slapping against skin resumes, his pace almost breakneck. His balls slap against your ass with such ferocity it makes you yelp the first time, whimper the second, moan the third. Gojo seems more serious now, the balls in his court and the way you squeal and reach out for anything to hold only spurs him on further.

And are promptly cut off by a vigorous pounding, the sounds of your own moans, and an downright visceral embarrassment when you realize this is the second time you're cumming and in spite of all your fucking and sucking, Satoru hasn't even came once. And as if hearing your thoughts, Gojo's playful expression closes in - his brow furrows as each roll of his hips gets more decisive.

"Pussy tryna close up shop?" He mutters near your ear when you clench on him a little too tight. "You tryna break my dick or something? I know it's good, but you can't keep it -" You don't know if your sigh is from pleasure or exasperation.

"Gojo, please." He tweaks your nipple and makes you squirm.

"Ohhhh, I see how it issss. It's Gojo now?" With every drag of his words he slows down dramatically, dragging his cock along your walls so painstakingly sensual it makes you want to scream. "What happened to Satoru?"

You start placatingly. "Satoru, I-"

After a moment, his hand comes over yours, your fingers weakly folding over his. His pumps grow harder, but slow down, his eyes clamped shut as he looks up, and -

"I'll try to make this one a two-fer." He speaks with that same smile in his voice, and you're two far gone to offer a groan or snap in response. "Y-yeah. Cum, Satoru - I wanna, I wanna cum," His eyes dart up to yours, and it's a little hard to hold his stare, but you manage.

"Yes yes pretty baby. You'll - we'll cum. Soon... real s-soon."

Your muscles feel tired, used from your last orgasm and forced to prolong operation just to take more dick. It's harder to take the full length of his shaft, your tummy flipping and your mind beyond fuzzy and fucked out. But you hold out. Just a little bit ... longer.

His thrusts start getting sloppy. The bruising piston of his hips edge off their intensity, and -

You're cumming again. Your legs are shaking and your ass feels a little numb and you're clenching so so so hard, for dear fucking life-

"Fucking hell!" Gojo bites his tongue, and pumps into you for the last time.

"Good." You gasp. "That was good." Satoru runs a thumb over your clit, teasing.

He heaves sighs like he's moved mountains, but really he's just offloading hot cum from his throbbing nuts, pressed into you very closely before going entirely still. You thought you were full before? Now you're kind of... bursting. Is that the right word? Feels that way. Gojo does a full body shudder and stretches his back out, trying to fuck his load you before he's even came it all out.

There's so much that it spurts around the sides of his dick and you can feel some of it slip out, run down your thighs, and you quiver one last time before feeling strength leave your body. Satisfaction blankets over you, a nice, full-bodied comfort. When Gojo slides out, he spurts a little cum on your tummy, the rest of it oozing out of you slow.

"Haha," His voice is a little raspy, like yours now. He arches a brow before he bends down, planting a loving kiss on your lips.

"Just good?"

[taintandviolent]

Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!

summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?

Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone. 

He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.

So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms. 

"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"

Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!" 

"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."

"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it." 

Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.

Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.

Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest. 

"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."

I’ll bet he is, you thought. 

He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.

"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.

"Enchanté." (Enchanted)

Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)

His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend) 

"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."

Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.

"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.

“Sit a while, cher.” 

You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care. 

You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core. 

There we go. That’s better.

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing. 

As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.

It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.

"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town. 

Remy moves first. 

"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet. 

The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame. 

Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react. 

“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.” 

He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing. 

“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you. 

"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.

Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.

He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing. 

Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.

"You sure do know how to make a man feel good." 

Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing. 

You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does. 

It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.  

"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."

“I have not!”

“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.” 

He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.

You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath. 

He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.

For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.

"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me." 

After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs. 

Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek. 

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.

“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”

“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity. 

Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.

“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.

"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."

His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.

“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.

Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.

He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand. 

"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."

You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."

“Whaddya’ need?”

“N-need you… so bad.” 

“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...” 

He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck. 

“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”  

A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care. 

Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough. 

Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch. 

Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight. 

“Wow,” you finally choke.

Remy grins. “You like what you see?” 

You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists. 

He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)

You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him. 

“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side. 

Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space. 

“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.” 

“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”

His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch. 

In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you. 

Oh my god. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze. 

“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her. 

He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.

You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa. 

There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver. 

“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.” 

He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give. 

By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you. 

Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”

Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry. 

“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s…  oh god.” 

He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.” 

Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.

Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you. 

Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…” 

You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep. 

“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.

Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”

He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts. 

“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin. 

His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions. 

You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate. 

“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.” 

“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.

The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.

“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.

“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”

“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you. 

As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting. 

The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets. 

He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.

“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.

You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you. 

If you had your way, you’d do it all over again. 

Though he doesn’t say it, so would he. 

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Circus

I've been wanting to draw some of my dolls for the longest time and this turned out to be my most detailed artwork so far :') And since I really love the circus, I thought I could turn this into an interactive story, too. Let me know what you think! Based on classic stock characters from Italian theatre, Commedia dell'arte. Content: gender neutral reader, horror, dark comedy, human and monster romance

You're finally here! Come on in, don't be afraid. Where is everyone else, you ask? Why, you're our only special guest, Darling (Y/N). This is all for you. Come, do not upset the Ringmaster. We will show you everything.

A night carnival? You've never heard of such a thing. Nonetheless, curiosity got the better of you when you found the trampled poster on your way back home. The actual message almost escaped your attention; you'd been too focused on the thick, ornate border, and the colorful, swirling patterns intricately filling the page.

"Last night in town! 'Wizard of Ozz' Night Circus, a mesmerizing show that will keep you glued to your seat. We're still searching for our Columbina. Perhaps you could become part of our story?"

Might as well check it out. Which is why you're currently here, in the outskirts, trying to find a walkable path among the weeds. It's dark and you can barely see anything in front of you. They're not trying very hard to provide an inviting atmosphere, you think to yourself.

Eventually, you discern a glimmer of light in the distance. You have found the circus tents.

The campsite is quiet and still, causing you to hesitate in your decision. Is it truly open?

There's a faint murmur coming from the main entrance. A small, melancholic Pierrot - when did he show up? - awaits by the heavy curtain, pale hands stretched out.

"Your ticket, Columbina", he announces with decorum. "Me and Arlecchino will show you any tent you want to visit. We are here to entertain you."

He ponders for a moment, before adding:

"I'm sure you'll like him more. He's a very alluring fellow. Me, on the other hand...Oh, forget it", he mumbles through pouting lips, ushering you inside.

"Aha! There's the star of our night! Our Columbina!"

A tall man in a pompous, glittery costume bounces towards you and lowers himself with a theatrical bow, giving your fingers a quick kiss. You pull your hand away, visibly bothered by the odd gesture.

"You keep calling me that. I'm (Y/N)", you argue.

"Yes, yes, of course we know that. Do ya take us for fools?" the Harlequin asks, kicking one foot in the air. The jingle of the bells at the tip of his shoe echoes across the hall. "You have, however - you must understand, yes? - you've entered Ringmaster's Circus. From now on, you are the Columbina to our play."

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

"Just like that? Why me, and not someone else?" you scan the surroundings, pursing your lips. "Where are the others?"

"Others?"

Harlequin makes an exaggeratedly shocked face and tilts his head towards Pierrot.

"What are they saying? You're the only one here, Columbina darling. After tonight, we-"

Pierrot's hand lands firmly on his friend's lips.

"You always talk too much. Always, always! And yet, you're the favorite. Of course you are. Oh, what pity, what misfortune", the pale young man laments. "We're wasting precious time."

They both burst into a little dance; a rather silly one, you think with an amused smile. Then, they place themselves besides the entrance, each one standing at one end, back straight and chins raised.

"Go on, go ahead, Columbina darling. This is your carnival. Choose any tent you'd like."

Pulcinella's Tent

The stage is pitch black, save for one spotlight contouring a patch of ground. You can see a large, colorful ball, and two feet clumsily rolling their way atop of it.

You chuckle at the sight. This must be the clown.

"No one can compete with Pulcinella's juggling", Pierrot declares somewhat monotonously. "His acrobatic spectacle has left many guests speechless, acting with such dexterity that one must wonder: is this truly the work of two hands?"

Lights flicker, allowing you to catch glimpses of smaller balls being thrown around. Juggling so many balls while bouncing around is indeed impressive.

"Rest assured, this is the art of one single man. Although four eyes are better than two."

The shadows are abruptly swallowed by spotlights, and you squint your eyes, adjusting to the brightness. A two-headed man continues his performance, throwing you the occasional cheeky smile.

"Ah, that is..." you place a hand over your mouth.

"A bother, truly", the Pierrot remarks, sitting next to you. "They're complete opposites."

He observes as both Pulcinella's heads tilt in your direction, visibly entranced. He sighs deeply:

"You'll love them either way. They're funny and entertaining, unlike me...A pathetic miser. Oh, if only I had half their charm!" he bemoans with a soft sob.

"Hey! Don't sadden my beloved like that", Pulcinella barks, jumping off the ball and running towards your seating with a comically merry jingle to accompany him.

You cannot help but marvel at the man in front of you.

"Enough of this, I've had enough! You don't get to decide yet, Pulcinella", Pierrot exclaims in sudden panic. He claws your wrist tightly and pulls you after him. "It's time to see other tents."

Sandrone's Tent

You peek behind the heavy curtain and freeze. Are your eyes deceiving you? Someone is idly resting at the bottom of a large aquarium, showing no struggle despite being underwater. The mysterious man senses your presence and emerges to the surface.

"Would you look at that! I can't remember the last time I had a visitor."

He gestures for you to come closer.

"Are you the new guest? Our Columbina?"

"I don't know what you're talking about", you speak up with hesitation, eyes glued to the scaly tail that seems eerily genuine. "I think I'll be leaving now."

"Leaving? Didn't the Ringmaster already tell you?" The merman claps his hands, amused. "You're naïve, I like that a lot. Perhaps this time I'll be the one to have you."

He abruptly grabs your wrist, and you jolt at the feeling. His hands are ice-cold and moist.

"Let me have a look at you, won't you? I'll help you hide from the others if you're good and listen to me."

You feel a pair of hands sinking into your shoulders, and you're ripped away from the merman. Harlequin's voice rumbles deeply across the room.

"You're being a fox again, aren't you, Sandrone? Hands off our guest! You don't get to pick yet", he scolds in a low growl. "Ringmaster won't be happy about it."

"Go on then, tell on me! Ringmaster's good boy, eh?" the dark-skinned man smirks mockingly and slams his tail against the glass. "Put a collar on that one, Columbina. See how well he barks", he snarls, then slides back underwater and promptly vanishes.

Harlequin's grip on your shoulders becomes tighter for a brief moment. You can tell he's tense.

"Let's get you out of here. Don't listen to a word he says, Columbina darling. He lies, you see? No one trusts him. You should rely on me."

Pantalone's Tent

You gawk at the impressive height of this tent, head nearly spinning from tilting yourself all the way back. Ah, this must be the trapeze artist. Indeed, one of the two handles is dangling above you, and it occurs to you there's no safety net. A tall, lean man swiftly pounces across, reaching for the trapeze. His movements are slow, yet calculated, and you can't help but wonder if he might actually be flying instead.

Upon closer inspection, it appears he has no arms.

"Madness", you find yourself shouting. "Stop this nonsense!"

He gracefully wraps his legs around the bar, swinging back and forth with a confident smile.

"You doubt me, Pantalone himself?"

With another thrust, he lets himself go, spiraling down against your terrified protests. His heeled shoes clack against the hard tile. Lastly, he stretches out his bandaged stumps, as if signaling his successful landing.

You find yourself bowing to the grand gesture.

"Yes, yes, it's rather impressive, isn't it?" Pierrot follows behind you in his usual dull tone. "Pantalone is our master acrobat."

He lifts his gaze and notices that the man didn't bother waiting for a full introduction; he's already standing before you with a flirty grin.

"...and a charmer, I suppose. What, you're already doing your tricks?"

The sallow clown squeezes himself behind you two protectively.

"Shoo, shoo! Columbina is merely visiting."

He lightly pushes you away, towards the exit. You throw one final glance at the mysterious individual; he waves with his residual limb, and winks.

"You know where to find me, love."

Il Capitano's Tent

You feel a radiant heat coming from this tent. In the middle of the ring stands a grand cage. An animal of sorts? You keep your distance, observing from the benches.

A monstrous giant stumbles within your view with heavy steps. A thick, scaly tail rattles the bars of the cage, swinging itself with the precision of a bullwhip.

"Il Capitano himself!" the Harelquin announces theatrically, bending his arms in the direction of the blue beast. "The strongman, the fire-spitting artist, a most devilish creature captured and chained by our Ringmaster."

"Is this one mine?" the monstrous man pins you down with a predatory gaze.

"Perhaps", Harlequin spits out bitterly. "They decide, not you."

You squirm in your seat, suddenly much smaller under his intense stare. The charismatic guide's smile falters for a brief second, replaced by an envious grimace.

Il Capitano inhales deeply, expanding his torso and contracting his muscles. His fanged mouth then unhinges, releasing a great flame which spreads all the way to you. You're almost tempted to reach towards it, feeling the sting with your very fingers.

"Amazing", you mumble, still mesmerized by the spectacle.

This was no cheap trickery. Capitano is truly a one-of-a-kind artist. No human could replicate such a feat.

The beastly creature holds onto the bars of his cage, shoving his snout outside and grinning. Puffs of smoke escape between his teeth.

"Come down here and I can do even more, little one."

Harlequin gasps and gestures for you to stand up.

"Outrageous! How dare you-!"

He urges you to follow him outside. Enough monstrous sights for now.

"Shall we head towards the other tents, darling?"

Harlequin walks ahead, deep in contemplation. Pierrot scurries after him, whispering the remaining choices. Your shoulders are heavy, and you're quite tired from the eventful night.

You notice a little opening between the lavish curtain folds and decide to sneak away. They needn't know about your departure. You stumble around dark halls, following the cool breeze of the outside, until you're met with the starry sky.

Your path is blocked by two large poles, so you step to the right. Your body freezes in terror when they move with you. Slowly, you raise your head and follow the black shapes, and realize they're legs.

Far, far above ground, towering over the entire circus, you see two glowing eyes.

It's the Ringmaster.

"Bad, bad Columbina", he reproaches.

The voice is off, like an old, broken record reverberating against your eardrums. A cold shiver runs across your spine.

"I'm sorry", you blurt out in fear.

A long, bony hand appears before you, twitching with a loud pop. You wrap your hands around a finger, desperate to not anger this unholy creation.

"Let's take you to your caravan. We're leaving tomorrow."

Oh, God. What have you done?

Now, now, don't fret. There's nothing to be afraid of. Come, put that frown aside. Everyone loves you here. After all, you're their most precious Columbina. What's a Circus without its treasure?

[sarahroutldge]

i love you, i'm sorry.

a/n: requested based on a prompt list - the dialogue prompt is in bold! gif not mine, all credits to the creator (also the title has nothing to do with the song, it was just stuck in my head lol)

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: you and jj maybank drunkenly hooked up a few nights ago, and neither of you know how to deal with that. (routledge!reader)

word count: 3k

warnings: fluff/humor, angst w/ a happy ending, implied sexual content, drinking, semi-proofread, I think that's it

John Booker Routledge never thought he’d actually have to tell his best friend JJ Maybank that his little sister was off limits. Not once did it ever occur to him that JJ would ever think of you in a different way; he hardly liked to consider the idea that you dated anyone in the first place, let alone that you’d express any interest in the man he knew inside-and-out.

But things change and people get older. After you and the rest of the Pogues found El Dorado and began construction on Poguelandia, JJ started to see you differently. Sure, he always found you attractive, but JJ also found every woman he encountered attractive, so he never thought much of it. 

And you certainly didn’t ever think of JJ in that way either. At heart, you were a relationship girl; and while the fact that you were single was proof enough that no relationship of yours had worked out in the past, one of your greatest strengths was that you knew what you wanted. You didn’t seek out something casual because you knew you’d be left unfulfilled. You wanted something all-consuming and destined for marriage. Seeing your older brother grow and mature in his relationship with Sarah Cameron only clarified that further. In your mind, if the second-most relationship-allergic person you knew (after JJ of course) was able to dive headfirst into marriage with a girl so remarkably different from himself, then you decided you wouldn’t settle for any less.

Feelings, however, have a funny way of messing with plans and expectations. While JJ had essentially lived with you and your brother for years, building Poguelandia only pushed the two of you even further together. And watching someone so unpredictable and chaotic as JJ tame himself for the sake of his friends and his future stirred something in you that you hadn’t been expecting at all.

Over the months, your interactions with JJ changed, little by little, and for a while neither of you noticed. It just grew natural for JJ to fix something in the bait shop that you were fussing over, or for you to bring JJ a sandwich or a snack while he worked. You found little ways to make the other’s day brighter, even if subconsciously you never even considered why you were doing these little favors in the first place.

What actually brought the two of you together wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, however. One night, after a long day of work on the house, the Pogues found themselves hanging out above the bait shop, buzzed off of beers, seltzers, and a few joints made of flower grown right from Kiara’s secret spot in the garden. And while the rest of the Pogues eventually found their ways inside and to sleep, JJ and you probably drank a bit too much. One thing led to another, and that was the first night you hooked up. It was slow, passionate, and clumsy, and while the both of you would later blame it on the alcohol and the weed, deep inside you were both fully aware that it was simply the end result of months of pining.

And that’s how you found yourself waking up on the hammock above the bait shop in only one of JJ’s t-shirts and a pair of underwear. The combination of the blinding North Carolina sunrise along with John B.’s extremely loud footsteps on the floor below practically forced your eyes open. While you play the night before over in your head, trying to piece it all together, you’re scrambling to get the rest of your clothes on.

Running downstairs with your shoes untied, you let out a huge “oof” as you collide with your brother, almost sending the two of you to the ground. 

“Good morning to you, too, sis,” John B. says, his eyes expressing his confusion at the fact that you obviously slept upstairs last night.

“Oh, um, sorry, JB, I guess I just drank too much last night and crashed on the hammock,” you practically vomit out.

“Riiiiight,” John B. responds, clearly not convinced but nonetheless wholly uninterested in this situation in the first place. “Just, uh, go shower. You stink.”

Assuming John B.’s comment is a joke, you let out a laugh that immediately sounds forced. “Yeah, uh, that’s what I planned on.”

John B. shoots you a thumbs-up before making his way behind the counter, clearly prepping to open the bait shop for customers. Deciding to avoid any more awkwardness between the two of you, you begin to make your way back to the house. However, your brain can’t help but consider the possibility that only more awkwardness awaits you back in the house, which you’re really not ready to process. You spin around to face John B. at the entrance to the bait shop. “Hey, uh, is JJ up?”

John B. doesn’t even look up from whatever he’s doing at the counter, clearly focused on something else. “Yeah, he took his bike to the grocery store about ten minutes ago, I think.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, and then turn back around to make your way into the house. Occupied with trying to wrack your brain about what exactly happened last night, you again stumble into someone else as you walk through the kitchen.

“Ow,” Sarah squeaks. 

You immediately apologize, looking her in the eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just, uh, didn’t sleep well last night,” you explain, hoping she’ll move out of the way so you can make your way to your bedroom upstairs.

But Sarah, unfortunately, has the attention to detail that your brother lacks. Looking you in the eyes, her brows furrow. “Did you sleep outside last night?”

You scratch your head. “Uh, yeah. Just, uh, crashed after all those drinks, you know?”

One thing that Sarah does share with your brother, however, is her unwillingness to let things go. Clearly noticing that something is on your mind, her eyes stare into yours, as if she thinks that she can figure out everything about you based on your facial expressions alone. And evidently, she can, because she then proceeds to whisper-yell, “Y/N, is that a hickey?”

She lightly taps a new bruise on your neck that JJ must have left last night, and you can feel your cheeks heat up at the action. You bat her hand away, and she smirks when she realizes what you must be hiding. 

“I don’t have time for this,” you blurt out, before maneuvering yourself around Sarah and walking over to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Whatever you say,” she taunts behind you, and you can practically hear her giggle as you make your way up the steps. 

Once you get to your bedroom, you lock the door behind you. Sliding down the wall, you let out a sigh, grateful that you met no more obstacles on the way upstairs. But as soon as your butt hits the ground, reality comes crashing down, and you realize that you have a much harder obstacle to deal with than running into one of your friends in the hallway. Instead, you have to deal with the fact that you slept with JJ Maybank—the man you’ve known practically your entire life who not only happens to be one of your closest friends, but even more than that, is your brother’s best friend. Yeah, you’re screwed.

For the next few days, JJ avoided you at all costs. He didn’t want to face the consequences of what you’d done, and was worried more than anything that his friendship with you (and John B. for that matter) would be ruined. And while you had the same idea for a while, within only a few days you decided that talking about it was the only way to move forward. Knowing JJ’s extensive dating history, you were convinced that JJ would only tell you that it was a mistake and a regret. You prepared herself for the negative, and found him alone at night in the employees-only area above the tackle and bait shop.

You carefully tiptoe up the stairs to prevent JJ from getting spooked and immediately bailing on the conversation. When he notices your presence, he shoots up from where he was laying on the hammock, just like you had anticipated. “JJ, we need to talk—”

“Y/N—”

“No, please, JJ, just let me speak,” you clarify, before walking closer to him. 

Realizing he doesn’t have any other choice, JJ sighs, gesturing for her to continue.

Working up the nerves, you wring your hands, preparing yourself for a moment that seemed more daunting than any of the actually threatening experiences you’d had with the Pogues over the last few years. “You know me, Jayj. You know that I don’t have one-night stands or casual relationships. And I can’t go on like this, pretending like what happened between us is normal or that I can just ignore it. I know that you’ve probably never had feelings for me, but if I don’t tell you this now, I’ll regret it. I… I like you, JJ.” Taking a breath, you step back, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of your chest. Only now, you have to brace yourself for the inevitable rejection.

Looking into JJ’s eyes, you can’t tell what he’s thinking, and that’s nothing short of terrifying. You’ve known JJ since he was a kid, and he’s not the best liar, so you can usually tell what he’s feeling from the moment you see him. But this time, you’re clueless, and the silence is deafening.

“JJ, please say something. If you’re going to tell me you don’t like me back, then just say it so we can move on and put this behind us.”

He brings his hands to his face, trying to piece the words together. “Just, uh, gimme a minute.” You nod at him, before moving to sit where he’d previously sat on the hammock. You swing your knees up to your chest, hugging them in comfort. 

You watch as he paces the floor around you. It’s not long before he speaks, but it feels like hours as you wait. 

“Y/N, I… We’ve been friends forever. You, me, and John B. It was the three of us for the longest time and then Pope came and then Kiara and… Uh, I’m getting off track.” He starts fidgeting with the ring on his thumb as he looks down at the ground, preparing for what he’s about to say next. “I won’t lie—you’ve always been hot. Like super fucking hot. And I’m not good at relationships or whatever, but I… I like you, too.” 

And your ears can’t believe what they’re hearing, so your head immediately jerks up to meet his eyes. “Wait… you do?” 

He nods, and you can feel a smile beginning to form on your face. “Well, then, why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. 

“Because it doesn’t matter,” JJ answers, and your heart immediately sinks in your chest, once again. “I can’t do this to John B., Y/N. I just can’t.”

“Who cares about him? He’ll get over it. John B. is not my problem.” 

“That’s the point, Y/N! He’ll be there for you no matter what. But the Pogues are basically all I have left. You and John B. are my family, and if I mess shit up with you, I’ll lose you both. And I can’t do that to myself.”

“You won’t mess it up, J,” you reassure, though part of you understands what he’s getting at.

“When have I not messed something up? I mess shit up all the time, and you mean too much to me for me to risk it. You need to go and find someone out there better than me, because as much as it’ll hurt me to see you with someone else, it’d be a lot worse if you were in pain and I was the reason. It’s because I’m in love with you that I wish we’d never done what we did,” he blurts out. 

And while you were trying your best to listen to him carefully, all you heard was him telling you that he’s in love with you. “You… You love me?” you whisper, and JJ’s eyes go back to the floor.

“Of course I fucking do! How could I not? You’re gorgeous and funny and weird and you know me better than anyone else, and I’ll never forgive myself if I ruin shit with you. So just let me go, because this is the hardest thing I’ve had to do.”

As you process what JJ says, he rushes down the stairs. The heavy pattern of his boots hitting the wooden floors grabs your attention again, and you sprint downstairs to meet him before he can run away completely. You grab his hand and pull him towards you. When his head moves, you can see tears in his eyes, even as the sky gets darker. “It’s not okay to just leave me here after telling me you love me back,” you choke out.

“We can’t—we’ll never be together,” he bites back, trying to sound angry. But you can read right through him, and he knows it. You drop his arm and reach up to grab his face with your hands. Your thumb wipes away a stray tear.

“JJ, you’re right: I do know you better than anyone else. And yes, you’re not the best at relationships. But don’t you think that with us it could be different? That maybe because we know each other so well we can figure it out together?”

He begins to shake his head, but before he can get any more words out, you continue. “JJ, I know everything about you. I know the worst things you’ve done and the best things. You’re always calling me a know-it-all, and yet right now you don’t seem to believe me when I tell you that I know we can do this. We can do it, and it’ll be hard, but it’ll be worth it because I can’t picture myself loving anyone else the way I love you.” And as the tears stream down your cheeks, JJ inches a bit closer to you.

“You… You love me?”

“Of course I do, you idiot. How could I not? You’re the sweetest, kindest, funniest, bravest person I know and my life would be so unbelievably boring if you weren’t in it.”

His eyes look all over your face, trying to see if he can detect a lie. But all he sees is someone so convinced in their feelings, so articulate, and he can’t believe that it’s possible but he might just love you more than he did five minutes ago. 

“Let me deal with John B., okay? I get why you’re scared and I would never want to come between the two of you, but you deserve to be loved, JJ. And I want to be the one who gets to love you.” 

As soon as you get the words out, he’s pressing his lips to yours, and you’re so glad he reached out to hold your waist because otherwise you’d be falling to your knees. It’s magical and romantic and you can taste the salty years you’ve both shed. His right hand moves to grab the side of your face and pull you even closer somehow, before moving back down to your waist and squeezing you in anticipation. The two of you break away, panting. He grips you again and gestures for you to jump, which you do, and you wrap your legs around his back. He carries you over to the counter of the bait shop, where he sets you down. Your legs squeeze his, and he grabs ahold of your face with his hands. “Before we um… do anything else… Are you sure?”

You nod immediately. “Babe, I need the words.”

Your heart clenches at the term of affection, and you pull his shirt to bring him even closer to you. “I am absolutely, positively sure that I love you, JJ Maybank.” He grins so wide you start giggling.

He smashes his mouth back to yours, and this time the kiss is hotter and needier. It’s just a mess of clashing teeth, lips, and hands, with little “I love yous” whispered in between. 

JJ tugs on the bottom of your shirt, and you break away so that he can lift it off, throwing it somewhere else in the shop. His shirt follows, but before he can unclasp your bra, you push him back. “JJ, I’m not fucking you in the bait shop.”

“It’s dark out and no one’s gonna see—”

You jump down from the counter. “It’s either in the house or in the Twinkie. Your choice,” you challenge, and he rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on, people do it all the time,” he justifies, and you look at him like he’s grown two heads.

“What on earth are you talking about?” you ask.

“Hooking up in the bait shop, duh. I caught Pope and Cleo on top of the freezer once, and I’m pretty sure I saw Kiara making out with her ex-girlfriend behind the counter.”

You roll your eyes. “You are literally proving my point,” you say, and he scratches his head. 

“Well, I know for a fact that John B. and Sarah hooked up in the bait shop once and I didn’t see anything!” he explains.

“That’s not any better! You’re talking about my brother!” you whine, and JJ starts to see that you’re not budging. 

He lifts you up bridal-style into his arms, and you squeal. “Fine, my lady, my room it is.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck. “Have you cleaned it recently?” you ask, knowing how messy his room gets. 

“Uh… Like, maybe not super recently. But I can make it nice,” he offers.

You squint. “As nice as my room?”

“Yeah, let’s just go to yours,” he says, and you giggle at how easily he gives in. As he walks down the talk, carrying you in his arms, you can see a smirk grow on his face. “But after we’re done, it’ll be as dirty as mine.”

“JJ!”

so... what did y'all think? I might consider making a part two where john b. finds out. is that something y'all would be interested in??

also... feedback is very much appreciated - pls comment, reblog, send asks, etc.!

[perenlop]

went to the wiki to fact check something and. ok i know i sound like a broken record but why do people think lionblaze is a loveable himbo baby who should be leader again

[redbullgirly]

Can you do a Lewis Hamilton smau where she is basically like Barbie? I feel like since Barbie is a fashion icon and so is Lewis, it would be a match made in Heaven. I read your pinned post and tried to make a request based on your rules. Sorry if it isn’t good enough

HI BARBIE! HI KEN! [part 1, LH44 smau]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Masterlist & Hi Barbie! Hi Ken! [part2, LH44 smau]

Summary: Lewis Hamilton is part-time Formula One driver and full-time fashion icon. And so is his girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N, who's also known as a real life Barbie.

Warnings: None... but a lot of pink XD. Also this story is set in December 2023, so no broken hearts over Lewis going to Ferrari... actually maybe just a little teaser.

Author's Note: Hi Anon! This request is great and thank you so much for it, it definitely is good enough! :) I had fun writing and creating this, even though at the end it's kind of different than what I firstly intended to do. The original idea was to make Y/N very Barbie coded, but at the end I'd say she's Barbie inspired and I focused more on the fashion icon part of the request. Though there's a sweet storyline about why her nickname is Barbie, so I hope you won't be disappointed! :)

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tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton A lot happened in 2023 season and there was also a lot of outfits 🤞🏾✨

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user1 MY GOD THIS MAN IS BEAUTIFUL!

yourusername this was definitely one of my favs 💝

liked by the author

lewishamilton What can I say... pink is the color of real men 🫶🏾

yourusername but do i still wear it the best?

lewishamilton Of course ma'am

user2 I love them sm 😭

user3 can we talk about the fact they're the best couple ever?!

user4 so sweet🥰

user5 And the fact she's literally the only person he interacts with in the comments...

user6 You are the best Lewis, can't wait for another season 👏

user7 🔥❤️

mercedesamgf1 Did someone say Barbie and Ken?💘

user8 YES

user9 admin you're so real for this... they literally ARE our barbie and ken 🤭

user10 The only question is who is the Barbie and who's the Ken? xd

user11 lol imagine barbie lewis💀

user12 GOAT ⬆️♥️

carmenmmundt Me and goergerussell63 when?

gourgerussell I don't really think pink is my colour...😬

yourusername don't worry honey, if he won't wear pink w you i will 😘

carmenmmundt Oh I knew why you're my favourite Y/N 😘

georgerussell63 No wait I changed my mind darling!!

carmenmmundt Hmm now I'll have to think about it 🤔

georgerussell63 Y/NNNNN

yourusername 😌😚

user13 i love how he always manages to get y/n into his posts

user14 The power boyfriend Lewis has over me😩😩

user15 RIGHT?!

user16 he's just so... asdgsagfsgd 😫

user17 I literally need this version of him to live!!!

user18 i'm weak for bf lewis🥵

user19 Y/N looks SO GOOD in that coat

user20 I need to know how she does it

user21 fr

user22 The best driver and a fashion icon... damn he's got some talent 🙇‍♂️

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yourusername great season and now it'll be even better winter break w my love 💋💞

view all 1,092 comments

f1 Our own Barbie🤩

liked by the author

user1 yeeeees

user2 Wait I'm new in formula one, why do we call Lewis Hamilton's gf Babrie??

user3 idk user2 she just gives off the energy 😆

user4 Actually I think Lewis himself once called her Barbie in an interview when there were rumors about them dating and then it just stuck with her 🤷‍♀️

user5 oh really?!! tbh i had idea he ever called he barbie himself... y/n is just iconic xd

user6 IT'S Y/N'S WORLD AND WE'RE JUST LIVING IN IT 🗣🗣

lewishamilton Can't wait to spend the winter break with you ✨

yourusername *mwah*

user7 pls I'm so excited for them!!

user8 the vacation photo dumps are gonna slay🤭

alexandrasaintmleux stoppp you're so pretty!🎀

yourusername nooo you are alex 🥹🫶

user9 they could never make me hate these two just 'cause they're dating the hottest drivers on the grid🫡

user10 The outfit in the second photo? HELLO?!

kellypiquet 🤍

liked by the author

charles_leclerc I see you like the Monaco circuit very much👀

yourusername i see you're stalking my photo dumps very carefully charles leclerc 🤨

charles_leclerc Well I have a feeling we'll see each other more often soon so I have to get to know you better😉

this comment has been deleted by charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc Caught in the crime😂

user11 WHAT WAS THAT CHARLES?!

user12 omg I wasn't the only one to see it? I'm not delusional right?🫣

user13 idk what you saw 'cause i didn't but this interaction is so funny to me XD

user14 mommy- sorry... MOTHER

user15 ❣️❣️

user16 y/n & lew >>>>

twitter

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yourusername i'm barbie. he's just a ken (and he won some trophy for p3 in the championship... idk where it is) 💖💄

view all 9,237 comments

user1 I live for Lewis leaving the trophy there💀

user2 and the way y/n basically confirmed this by saying she has no idea where it is😭

lewishamilton You're everything. I'm just Ken 🙏🏾✨

yourusername exactly... though you're the best ken ever 💞

sebastianvettel Isn't he more like Allan then?

yourusername ohhh true seb 🤭

user3 YOU WANNA TELL ME THE SEBASTIAN VETTEL SAW BARBIE

yourusername yeah we made him watch it and he cried during gloria's speech 💓

sebastianvettel I'm not ashamed about it.

yourusername and that's why i love u seb 🫶

user4 why aren't all men like sebastian???😩

user5 I love these three with all my heart y'all don't understand

user6 my fav driver watching my fav movie and crying during speech about feminism is my roman empire

user7 AAAHSDFHFGSDHSG😍

f1 If there was a prize for fashion icons, the Hamilton household would definetly win it! 🏆

liked by the author

user8 not admin calling them hamilton household🥹

user9 Lol that would be the only fairly given trophy this year

user10 OMG I just realized that one day Y/N and Lewis WILL be both HAMILTON😭😭

user11 I'll tattoo the date of their wedding on my arm fr

user12 that's real dedication user11 💀

user13 TRUE DEFINITION OF A QUEEN... LOVE YOUUUUUU

kellypiquet Gorgeous darling!💖💖💖

yourusername we both babeee 💖🫶

user14 the IT wags casually supporting each other

user15 I love they're still friends even though their bfs are probably the biggest rivals xd

user16 not the shade about the trophy💀

user17 Waiiittt what happened?

user18 someone who was at the ceremony said lewis gave him the prize 'cause he didn't want it😭

user17 Oh and Y/N wrote in her caption she doesn't know where it is?

user18 exactly😭

user17 Whoops... I love her, she's queen for that

user19 and the fact fia tried to deny these rumors💀

user20 Absolutely love this look 🤍

user21 you and lew are just such a good looking couple

user22 THE DRESS I REPEAT THE DRESS🥰

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lewishamilton ���🇨 with the best company.

view all 15,322 comments

roscoelovescoco Mom's look's so handsome's ☺️☀️

liked by the author and yourusername

lewishamilton Agreed

yourusername awww my boys are too sweet 🥹💕

user1 lewis complimenting his gf not w one but TWO accounts makes my heart melt

liked by yourusername

user2 I want a man like him🤧

user3 WE LOVE ROSCOE CALLING HER MUM

user4 Lewis, Y/N & Roscoe are the best trio ever🥰

user5 parents and their son

user6 literally omg

yourusername wow who's that handsome boy laying on a couch 🥴😻

lewishamilton Handsome you say?😏

yourusername yeah, right next to u 🥰

lewishamilton Oh no, I should've seen that coming😒

roscoelovescoco Thank's mom's I'm handsome's boy's 😊👅

user7 these interactions give me the will to live

user8 I love the Hamilton family🥺

user9 lol y/n calling roscoe handsome xd

user10 The funniest part about this is that Lewis manages Roscoe's profile😭

user11 omg yes user10 not him playing being offended on his main and then being all sweet as roscoe...

user12 Love forever ❤️

user13 Y/N is so beautiful I can't believe my own eyes

user14 the two belong together forever 🙌🫶♾️💫

user15 fr

user16 If they ever break up I'll stop believing on love

mercedesamgf1 Mr. & Mrs. Mercedes

user17 pls give him decent car in 2024 to win another championship🙏

user18 The most iconic couple in history of motorsport 💅

user19 ❤️😍

user20 what's Ferrari doing in the likes?🤨

user21 lol calm down... he's literally lewis hamilton🤣

user22 No but it's weird... they never like other team's things

user23 and after the rumors during monaco gp too 🥸🥸

user24 I think this photo dump caused global warming... like daaammmnnn they're both so fine 🥵

user25 let's just say roscoe isn't the only one calling them mommy and daddy-

user26 lmao

user26 but true🫢

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yourusername barbie has a great day everyday... especially when she gets pink mercedes she wanted 🛍🤍

view all 2,546 comments

lewishamilton Seems like Ken is good for something

liked by the author

yourusername maybeeee

lewishamilton You want pink Ferrari too, don't you?

yourusername ☺️☺️

user1 ohhh to have a man like that

user2 OMG LEWIS PLS GET HER PINK FERRARI

user3 Yeah, Y/N will slay in that car😌

user4 i wanna be barbie too if she gets pink mercedes

user5 but first you'll need to have a ken like lewis hamilton

francisca.cgomes this barbie is so prettyyyy

yourusername love u! 💓

user6 Okay okay I NEED the bikini😫😍

user7 QUEEN

user8 Y/N looking gorgeous like always🫶🏼

user9 gold digger alert!!!!🤮

user10 Girl go away, you clearly know nothing about their relationship xd

user11 jealousy alert!!!

user12 the first pic does something to me 😩

user13 The most beautiful woman ever

user14 Lewis won lottery w her

user15 yes she's literally so pretty and they seem so happy together🥰

user16 fr I don't think I've seen him this happy before

user17 yeah he looks so much calmer and even younger when y/n is with him at event and gps...🥹

user18 Plus the OUTFITS?! I love them sm

user19 Where is Lewis 🙂?

user20 c'mmon he doesn't have to be in every post she makes🙄

user21 stunning as always 💘

user22 SLAYING AS ALWAYS

twitter

Y/N’s interview

photo 1: Y/N: How did you and Lewis meet?

Y/F/N: Oh, you guys'll love the story!

photo 2: Y/N: It was actually in a toy store. Lew was there with his niece and I was there because... [laughs] Let's say I still like to collect dolls and lego, sue me.

photo 3: Y/N: Anyway, Lew's niece saw me, thought I'm a real life Barbie and wanted to say hi. [laughs] It was honestly so sweet that I didn't have the heart to tell her I'm just a normal girl.

photo 4: Y/F/N: So does she still think you're Barbie? [laughs]

Y/N: Yeah, I think so... She calls me Auntie Barbie! [laughs too]

photo 5: Y/N: But back to Lewis - I didn't recognize him and just thought he's really cute. We talked for few minutes, though then I had to leave and didn't have the courage to ask for his number.

photo 6: Y/N: But few days later he followed me on Instagram and I was just like - yes!

Lewis’ interview

Interviewer: Lewis, you recently followed a known influencer and model on Instagram. Is there something going on between the two of you?

Lewis: Are you talking about Barbie? Oh, shoot, sorry... [laughs] I mean Y/N?

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yourusername aesthetic life w the best man, cute son and lots of flowers 🌸💖

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roscoelovescoco I got's mom's the's flowers's 😊🌷

liked by the author and lewishamilton

yourusername thx roscoe baby!! 🫶 guess daddy will have to learn from you 😌🤍

user1 ... are we gonna talk about the fact y/n just called lewis daddy?

yourusername ... no please don't, you know what i meant 😭🙈

user2 Too late Y/N, the twitter girlies are going to go nuts about this (me included)

landonorris Awww look at that grumpy little dude 🥺

liked by the author

pierregasly Mate are you calling the seven world time champion grumpy little dude?🤣

user3 lando tf-

user4 This is so funny for no reason😭

user5 Lewis being called grumpy little dude wasn't what I expected from this winter break tbh

landonorris ROSCOE

landonorris I WAS TALKING ABOUT ROSCOE GUYS

user6 💀💀

pierregasly Lol

yourusername why did you even think it was about lewis peirregasly ??🧐

landonorris YEAH MR. TRIPOD TELL US

pierregasly Goodbye...👋

user7 u and lew are so sweet

user8 MOTHER IS MOTHERING 😍

alexandrasaintmleux Shining like a star✨💖

yourusername and you're my sun ☀️💖

user9 I want a man who gives me so many flowers!!!

user10 yeah and they're beautiful and tasteful too

lewishamilton So lucky to have you darling! 🫧🫶🏾

liked by the author

yourusername we're both so lucky lew 💗🫶

user11 and i'm lucky i was born in the same century as you so i can witness this love

user12 I LOVE Y/N & LEWIS🥰

user13 I'll ask again... When is he going to put a ring on it? 💍 C'mon Lewis you obviously love her sm

user14 Your guys love is so special ❤️

user15 if this is the content we'll be getting during winter break, i don't think i want it to end

user16 races are great... but boyfriend material lewis hamilton is better🤤

user17 REAL

THE END

Author's Note: Hi and thank you for reading! I'll be glad for likes, reblogs, comments, follows and any other ways of support. PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT PART 2! I really enjoyed this version of Lewis and Y/N... and perhaps I have a lot of pictures that unfortunately didn't make it to the story because picture limit isn't very friendly. Love you and have a great day! :)

[lovverletters]

Yandere! Streamer x Streamer! Reader

A/N : I'm taking a break from the bullet point format and decided to try making a drabble instead. Huuge thanks to @bloozz for giving streamer his name🌷

T/W : Streamer reader, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, etc

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"Damnit..! I lost again" He let out a defeated sigh as he watches the 'GAME OVER' screen blinking at him in an almost mocking way.

The chat of his live stream went wild upon his fifth time losing on a game that he had been playing for hours by now and yet he still hasn't been able to beat it.

"Yeahhh, thanks a lot chat! those 'L's you're spamming are definitely helpful" Micha rolled his eyes at the countless mockery his viewer was sending him. He knew it was all jokes- or at least he hope it is.

Deciding that he needed a break from the game, he cracked open a can of soda and laid back against his chair, opting to interact more with his viewers.

He had only been streaming for a few months and had gained a pretty sizeable amount of viewer and fanbase.

Bloozzclues : You should check (insert your streamer name) out! They've beaten this game multiple time and have some useful tips you can use.

"(Y/S/Name)? I've heard of them before, saw a few of their speedruns. I never understand how they manage to get that luck based glitch to work! But thanks bloozz! i'll be sure to check them out after stream" Micha replied to one of the chat and moved on to the others.

Soupispretty :(Y/S/Name) is actually watching your stream rn lol

Micha choked on his drink as he tries to contain his coughs. He almost spat out the soda onto his keyboard and it would've been a nightmare to clean it up.

Scrolling through the main page of the streaming website on his other monitor, lo and behold, the (Y/S/Name) was indeed watching his stream. Specifically, the parts where he lose to the same boss every. single. time.

He felt his cheeks reddened everytime he heard (Name) laughed or giggled at him. They wouldn't just laugh at him though, they would also insert in some advices for him to improve on which made him incredibly jittery with excitement.

(Y/S/Name) also known as (Name) has always been an inspirational figure of his when he first started streaming. To be acknowledged by his idol causes him to be so overwhelmed, he almost fainted from how fast his heart is beating.

The chimes of his subscription's notif brought him back to his senses, Micha's chats were going crazy from the streamer's trance like reaction to (Y/S/Name) stream.

Kafkaismywife : is he okay??

Peachesandcrem : bro looks possessed💀

Collecting what little composure he has anymore, Micha decided to end the stream under the guises of him being exhausted.

"Ahem.. er sorry about that guys, i think the sleep deprivation is getting to me. So, thank you all for being in this stream but I have to log off now!" He smoothly blurted out, getting back into his streaming persona.

After saying goodbyes to his viewers, he clicked the end stream button. Alone with his thoughts, Micha switches the screen back onto your stream.

He knew from then on, his adoration for you had grown into something more. Something deadly and dangerous.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

(Name) let out an exhausted sigh as they had just finished another successful stream. They played horror games for hours and ended the stream by reacting to random clips their viewer sent via mediashare.

"I should probably take a shower and take a long nap right after.." (Name) thought.

Ping!

It was the sound of their notifications, (Name) picked their phone up and clicked on it. They were directed to their twitter where the person had messages them.

Michatwt

Hey! Thanks a lot for the advice you gave me when you reacted to my live

"Oh it's that streamer i watched earlier on stream" (Name) spoke outloud as they quickly typed out a reply.

(Name)ishere

No prob! Thought you needed some tips to beat the game haha

(Name) sent out the reply and Micha replied immediately. 'He sure is a fast typer' they thought.

Michatwt

This might sounds odd but would you be down to make a collab with me? I think it'll be more fun if you teach me on stream

They paused for a moment, thinking over their decision. (Name) have been wanting to make a collab stream before but never got to it. This would be a great opportunity to produce some new content!

(Name)ishere

Sounds good! We'll discuss about this collab later, I got something to do right now

Michatwt

Of course! See you later haha

Somewhere else, Micha was jumping out of joy and practically on his knees thanking the higher beings for this opportunity he's been given to be close to his idol, his (Name).

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

A/N : ending on a cliffnote because this has been rotting in my draft.

[b1rds3ye]

Mask On

How the boys react to their new ally who is more adamant on wearing their mask than Ghost himself.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except shorter than Ghost)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3.1 (~0.8 each)

Warning: Canon-Typical Violence, Mentions of Reader potentially having insecurities, Not Proof Read

A/N: You know what maybe I want to be the badass masked character 😤

Captain John Price

The captain is thorough, and he immediately knew something was up when he looked up your file only to be greeted with no photo. He’s honestly a little peeved that his rank doesn’t grant him this confidential information, he’s known Simon before he took up the mask so this is the first time he’s genuinely had a faceless ally

But ultimately, as long as he can trust that you’ll be following orders, he doesn’t care if you have a mask or not. But his concern is only that for a fellow soldier

It takes a little longer for him to warm up to you - facial expressions tell a lot about someone’s character. He’s a bit prickly around you, he learns about you indirectly with how you interact with the rest of the 141

But over time there’s a shift. He can’t pinpoint when exactly but the sight of your mask relaxes him. After days separated on a mission, high stakes and adrenaline has Price snapping his head at the faintest of foreign sounds. But upon the familiar sight of your signature mask, he feels at ease

Price is fiercely protective of you and your mask. He likens it to his hat, only far more important - that mask is part of your identity and he knows just how important a soldier’s psyche is. If the enemy manages to take off your mask, he’ll stop at nothing to get it back on your behalf, even if you reluctantly tell him to abandon it

If he can’t salvage your mask, Price has now made it a habit to carry a balaclava for you in one of his pockets. If that’s not available, he’ll even offer you his hat, tipping it down far enough to obscure your eyes

Off duty he finds himself staring at your visage more these days. Looking at how the mask curves over your features, or the small slivers of skin that reveal themselves. He catches himself before you notice but he’s still disappointed in himself, he feels like a Victorian-era prude hyperventilating at the sight of an ankle

“Looking fresh, sergeant.”

You let out an audible chortle at Price’s words. The last mission was a success but at great costs, one of them being your mask damaged beyond repair during melee combat. Your face still wasn’t revealed, but slashes against fabric embedded with dirt and ash have made your signature mask look unrecognisable. Immediately upon returning to base and after debriefing, you were out of commission until you could don a new mask.

Price would be lying if said he didn’t miss your presence for the last few days, hiding away from the rest of the soldiers in base. He has no doubt you’ve still maintained your training and visiting the infirmary for mandatory checkups, but he’s gotten far too used to you being at his beck and call. The famed sight of your mask is no longer in his periphery, giving a nod of approval (not that he ever needed your approval, but he does enjoy your attention).

And now here you are with a new mask, the highlights glowing under the overhead lights and the darks swallowing up the lightwaves like an animal starved. Your updated look had you noticeably confident, shoulders square and head tall.

“Thanks, Captain.”

He can hear your smile and he ends up sitting next to you. Did he need to sit so close? No, but he acts as though his thigh brushing against yours was pure coincidence.

“What are you going to do with the old one?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, giving a light pat to a pocket in your cargo pants that your past mask currently resides in. “I know there’s a lot of memories in this… it’s my first mask… but I don’t know what to do with it.”

“I’ll keep it.”

You look at him. Price now has the uncanny ability to read your mood purely through your body language. From the speed at which you turn your head, the inclination of the neck, how your shoulders slant, he’s surprised that such a vicious soldier can act so endearingly in these moments.

“For what?”

“Safekeeping,” he says simply. “I’m proud of my soldiers, sergeant - want to remember their accomplishments.”

You shrug in agreement and fish your mask out of your pocket. You don’t need to know how much Price truly values you, how having your mask will be like having a part of you by his side to motivate him when he’s working alone.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

You’ve got a mask? Cool, so does he. Simon really doesn’t care when he first met you. He offers a simple nod of acknowledgement to you and then it’s all mission talk. If anything, the mask makes him respect you more, like him it’s always the masked ones who’ve seen shit and can get shit done

Even before you two became friends, you two were often paired together for operations. Perhaps it was just assumed the two masked people were on the same wavelength and to be fair, they were right. It didn’t take long for Ghost to admire your prowess on the battlefield

However as the two of you start to get closer, Simon gets a bit of a eureka moment. So this is how all his allies feel when trying to get along with a masked figure, unable to see any of their expressions. Oh how the tables have turned. It’s not daunting for him, more just amusing

He knows the struggles of having a mask so he helps out where he can. He reminds you if it’s been some time since you last washed your mask (advice he does not follow himself) and he’ll offer you some of his obsidian powder he uses to obscure any uncovered patches of skin

Price often has the two of you accompany him for interrogations, he calls it “mask pressure”. There’s nothing more terrifying to a target than having two imposing faceless figures standing on either side of them, unreadable and unpredictable

It’s clear you don’t want to show your face to anyone and Simon doesn’t question it. His natural curiosity is not worth your discomfort and he makes that abundantly clear. If on the rare occasion you catch him without a mask, he’ll sometimes put it back on so that you don’t have to be the only one with their face covered

If your mask is ever compromised, Simon covers you with his hulking figure. No one dares get on the bad side of Ghost who shoots the most terrifying glares towards anyone looking in his - and consequently your - way. He stands in front of you, back rigid and shoulders square, his posture only slacking if he feels you hold onto his back, seeking comfort

A few weeks ago, when left in a briefing, you finally noticed Simon was staring at you from across the room. He had been staring for a good while now, but you - ever the diligent soldier - were distracted discussing tactics with a corporal. So there he was, standing and observing in the corner of the room - his “observing” being drinking the sight of you. And that was when he noticed, among all the glory that was you, that your mask was slightly off alignment. Cue his eyes being trained on your head for you to get the idea that something was wrong.

When your head stayed still - probably challenging his gaze - he tried to change tactics. He added the occasional upward jerk of the head - miming an attempt to shake the mask back in place - but your head only tilted in confusion. You still could not figure out what he was doing.

Eventually he gave up and walked up to you. He lifted a tentative hand, silently asking for permission and you nodded. He pinched at the fabric on the side of your face.

“Your mask’s slippin’,” he said gruffly. It wasn’t the end of the world, only a small adjustment that only someone as observant as him could notice. Still, he felt satisfied at your heavy exhale, you must’ve noticed it’s a little easier to breathe with everything in alignment now.

“Thanks.”

Today, Simon finds your gaze trained on him, head following whenever he moves across the room. You used to stare when you first met, you probably found him intimidating and he doesn’t blame you. He thought you’d be over that though, you two were closer than that. At least he hoped.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He eventually asks and that spurs you into action.

Standing in front of him, you reach up, your hand grabbing the top half of the skull that overlays his balaclava. Your thumb lightly hooks into the skull’s eye socket - a little close to Simon’s actual eye but he trusts you. He feels you tug upwards, and Simon now realises that the skull had been sinking down his face, the peripheral around his brow no longer obscured. He’ll need to reapply the glue for the mask later.

“We really need a hand sign for this,” you mutter.

And so you two make one. It’s discreet, a closed fist with a thumb poking out, dragged from the jawline up to the hairline. The rest of the 141 just look at the two of you in confusion whenever you use it though, your little secret.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Johnny’s generally a good judge of character. Although it’s a little uncanny being unable to see your features, he’s used to it because of Simon. One conversation is all he needs to reach a conclusion as to what type of person you are and now he treats you as if you’re good friends

Yes, he is curious about what you look like under the mask. He used to make comments about it occasionally until he caught you on a bad day

“C’mon Sarge, just a peek.” “Not happening, Johnny.” “What, you ugly?” “… that’s not for you to speculate, MacTavish.” “Shit, sorry. I- I’d never think that of you, or care. I know you’re a looker.”

And Johnny stands by his statement. Even if he’s never seen your face he quickly developed a little crush on you. How you conduct yourself in battle has him watching you with stars in his eyes and he just knows you’ll take his breath away if you ever show your face

When Johnny’s bored, he likes doodling your mask and potential alternative designs in his journal which he’ll show you sometimes. He’s not an artist but he gets the idea across. He’s created a “happy” design, an “angry” one, and the “when I see Soap” design which is just your standard mask with a whole lot of shoddily drawn love hearts on it (you haven't seen that design yet)

He’s genuinely surprised at how determined you are at keeping your mask on in all circumstances - you’re worse than Simon at this point - but he’ll never ask because he doesn’t want to potentially open up old wounds. Despite his curiosity for what you could look like, Johnny will never invade your privacy and ensures no one else does either. If you’re in your room he’ll knock once, twice, thrice, until he’s absolutely sure you’re ready for him to enter

If something goes wrong and your mask falls off he’s looking away and shoving everyone else to look away as well. He’s like a guard dog, shouting and name-shaming anyone who dares look in your direction. No one except other members of the 141 will be able to approach you until you’re covered

Was it smart to have you and Soap - combined to be the most disruptive and obnoxious soldiers on the field - alone to handle a stealth mission that was off the books? No, but you sure as hell weren’t going to disappoint Price or Laswell. The objective was clear and the rules of engagement were even clearer; under no circumstance can the enemy know you’re from 141.

“We’re gonna need to cover our faces,” Johnny mutters absentmindedly beside you. You pull your binoculars down to send him an incredulous look and he chuckles. “I need to cover my face.”

“You got a mask?”

There’s a pause and Johnny’s looking at you, eyes glinting in that familiar mischief. That was never good news.

“You bet.”

You offer a tentative nod of encouragement before lifting your binoculars back up to observe the target site. You hear the repeated shuffles of fabric against fabric and clothes sliding against skin. It’s prolonged, you swear it’s enough time for Johnny to change his entire uniform. His breaths become muted, mouth now covered until it eventually falls to complete silence. It’s unnerving, the designated demolitions expert is not known for his silence, and you have to look back at him yet again.

Of course you expected Johnny to be wearing a mask, but it was the mask itself that took you by surprise.

“Is that… mine?”

“Was yours.”

You squint and somewhere in the depths of your mind, you vaguely recall Soap asking if he could have one of your spare masks back at the base. You humoured him, and said your wardrobe was his.

That was your first mistake.

You figured he was just going to take the piss, wear your mask to scare some privates around the base. You didn’t think he’d actually wear it on a mission. It was unexpected, but it felt like an honour. How he was so willing to identify with you in some of the most dangerous of situations.

But your silence has Johnny getting fidgety. He’s already reaching up to pull the mask off.

“I have a normal balaclava. If you don’t like this I can-”

“Wear it.”

You can’t see Johnny’s face but you see him pull his head back in surprise. Then he smiles, one so wide, expanding his cheeks you can see it stretch your mask. In that moment you’re glad your mask obscures your features as you feel yourself grin at his own joy.

“We’re a team, aye?”

“You bet.”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle’s may be close to Simon but he's not entirely used to masked allies. When you first arrived he shot Captain Price a cautious look, a silent conversation between them finished by Price’s definitive nod. Eventually he relents and puts up with you

Subconsciously, without seeing your face he ends up reducing you to a weapon. He respects you like a soldier, a robot. His language is restrained, only issuing orders and you recite them back

It’s only when another soldier cracks a joke on the mission and you laugh does it flick a switch in Kyle’s mind. You weren’t all orders, you weren’t a machine, you were a human (with a damn nice voice might he add). He feels terrible for reducing you to a tool simply because he can’t see your face but he’ll make up for it now

He becomes a bit of a menace in the sparse quiet moments of a mission. He makes the occasional one liner about how you wear the mask so others aren’t distracted by your good looks, but then changes the topic so quickly you’re not even sure he said it

Yes, Kyle’s a little obsessed with your voice. He can’t see you and he doesn’t have the experience like Price or Simon to read body language accurately. Instead, he can read your mood near perfectly with the inflections in your voice (which is arguably more impressive). While he doesn’t want you to ever be upset or angry, sometimes how you taunt the enemy has a shiver running down his spine

Because your mouth is blocked by a mask, many allies don’t offer you food or drinks. Not Kyle though, if he’s grabbed refreshments, he always ensures he has extra for you. At first he just gives them to you and then leaves. But when you said it was okay for him to stay - trusting him enough to just look away when you lift you mask - Kyle’s heart soared

If anything happens to reveal your face, Kyle is immediately by your side. He pulls you close to provide comfort, while also guiding your head into his neck or shoulder to block anyone from seeing you. Another member of the 141 will find a solution to cover your face, you are Kyle’s first priority and he’ll gladly hold you all day

After a long mission, you and Kyle are finally safe upon reaching exfil. Sitting on a helicopter Kyle slumps against his seat, and you do the same beside him. Although he could finally relax, he feels absolutely filthy, swamped in his own sweat under multiple layers. Dirt and mud caked his boots and crept all the way up to his thighs. Some even sneaked up into under his tactical vest.

He spares a look and sometimes he thinks you can’t possibly be human. The heat is suffocating enough without a mask, Kyle has long forgone his signature cap to let his head breathe. If your body language was any indicator, you weren’t handling the sweltering heat of the helicopter engine or Al Mazrah’s temperament. Your chest notably heaving under the weight of your tactical gear, breaths so laboured it sent the fabric around your mouth pulling and billowing with each inhale and exhale.

There isn’t much Kyle can do for comfort, but he tries. He shifts a little closer to you. Your head shifts to look at him, the movement was far too slow, like your head was too heavy and his heart tugs a little.

With one hand, Kyle gently tilts your face up to him. With the other he lightly pinches the fabric of your mask at the junction between your jawline and ear. Teasing it between his fingers, when he pulls his hand away there’s gunk on his fingertips. Dust, dirt and as he squints at your mask he realises that some of the stains are likely the dried blood of an unidentified enemy.

The hand he’s resting on your chin is about to pull away until he notices how you’re resting your head on it. He can’t see your face but he has no doubt that your eyes are near shut, almost drifting off to dreamland. He occupies himself by gently brushing away loose debris off your mask which has you relaxing further into his touch.

“We gotta wash this,” he murmurs defeatedly.

“... yeah, we do,” you grumble, voice thick with fatigue. Kyle does not stop his ministrations - even pulling some fluff off of the cotton of your mask. It does little to actually clean your mask - at this rate it’s going to need pure bleach to clean it - but he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you trust him this much, leaning into his touch, entrusting him to be the respite from your mission.

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