#i really like how all the other figures are just kinda blurred out
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
THIS IS SO COOL OH MY GODDDDDD look at him in his little fancy suit ohhhhhhh and the background is so detailed!!! This is so beautiful!!! AHHHHHH-
The gala...
I've been wanting to draw something for the reprogrammed au for AGES and i finally got a bit of inspiration from the latest decoded chapter... I never draw backgrounds but I really hope I did the scene justice!
@littlecrittereli
#wk reprogrammed#wk reprogrammed au#wk decoded#wk decoded ch 6#THANK YOUUUUUU#I LOVE IT SO MUCHHH#the texture in his suit is so <33333#i really like how all the other figures are just kinda blurred out#it just reinforces how much he was zoning out to focus on diego#its like the other people weren't even there#except for martin and aviva ofc#AH SO COOL
339 notes
·
View notes
Note
I am OBSESSED with mean!Jason Todd. I just imagine him saving you from doing something he thinks is really stupid, like walking alone in Gotham after dark and then just being downright mean about it after he takes you home. Unf. Obsessed.
EJEUGDAKAM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH OVER THIS OMG♥️♥️♥️ tysm for the request!
-----------------------------
Mean! Jason Todd (Part 2)
Sensitive Subjects: Smut, anal (kinda blurring the lines of noncon...?), a probably toxic situationship
Mean! Jason Todd who has some weird situationship with you. After you hooked up the first time, it just kinda kept going. Do you love him? You aren't sure. Does he love you? Probably not, but he gets possessive as hell regardless.
"What was that shit about?" He took you to a bar before coming back to his apartment once before it became a regular occurance. His face was twisted into that usual scowl and broad arms crossed over his chest. But, oh, how that look gave you some butterflies.
"Him?" You glance over at the guy you'd previously been chatting with a few moments ago through the loud, crowded bar. "He's just a friend." Of course you were telling the truth: the sex with Jason was just too good to pass up by sleeping with somebody else or getting into a serious relationship.
"My ass." An immediate scoff was his biggest reaction. And, to be fair, that's probably the least jealous thing you could've gotten out of him: the guy could've ended up beaten to a pulp on the sidewalk if Jason saw fit. "Come on, let's get out of here."
Mean! Jason Todd who didn't know you worked the late shift at said bar and thought you were just blowing him off for some other guy when you said you were busy. So, when he saw you walking home from your shift down the shady alleys of Gotham nearing 2 AM, he was pissed.
A quick, forceful grab is all you could feel as a broad, muscled figure approached from behind. There wasn't much you could even do other than thrash and claw at his biceps. "Quit your fucking squirming!" Wait, Jason?
Your head was barely able to turn and place him into view, but, surprisingly, you weren't being kidnapped and it was just your situationship. "What the hell are you doing?" His grip loosens slightly after a moment, allowing you to push yourself away from his chest and arms and back down to your feet.
"What the hell are you doing? Do you know what could happen walking out here this late?" Jason is practically screaming at this point, the sound reverberating off the brick walls of shady Gotham apartments. "Or are you trying to get yourself kidnapped?"
Mean! Jason Todd who practically drags you back to his apartment after, absolutely seething with anger and... Worry? No. You wouldn't dare call it that. Not yet, anyway... Maybe something closer to a jealousy. Maybe he was just still jealous of some hypothetical guy you didn't even have plans with.
"What the actual hell did you think you were doing? Do you know how unsafe it is to be walking near Crime Alley at night?" The door is immediately slammed behind him when he takes you back to his apartment. "Look, if you're blowing me off for some other guy, that's fine. But if you're seriously dumb enough to think that I would be okay with you out by yourself regardless, you need to think again."
"Jay, I was just coming home from-" You start, putting down your work bag on his crappy coffee table like you usually do.
"No, don't give me that shit. You were coming home from a little boy toy's place, weren't you?" He's already on his way to grab the bottle of whiskey from the cabinet next to his fridge. "Should've known you'd be just as much of a slut as she was. Hell, a dumb one at that."
Mean! Jason Todd who doesn't even feel bad as he sees you get a little misty eyed. Or maybe he does... It ws really hard to tell when you could barely see through the tears welling up in your beautiful eyes.
Mean! Jason Todd who really ends up getting on your nerves after the first half hour of arguing. There was nowhere to back away to when he came up and towered over you in his dingy, quiet apartment. And so, you did what you could.
"Oh yeah? Well maybe if that greedy little cunt of yours wasn't begging for attention-" Jason wasn't even yelling anymore. In fact, he'd resorted to slut shaming you only ten minutes into the fight.
And then, a loud slap. Your hand stung. A lot. So did his face, probably. And before you could even think about how to apologize or get yourself out of the situation, Jason is picking you up, hauling you over his shoulder, and carrying you to his bedroom.
Mean! Jason Todd who absolutely tortures you as soon as you're in his bedroom. Sure, you'd both had some pretty rough sex before, but he's never been quite as unhinged as he is right now.
"Look at this cunt..." A light slap to your bare clit as he kneels between your legs. "So fucking wet... You're already dripping." Jason cant help but let out a light scoff. In all honesty, it was probably closer to a sadistic laugh. "Is this all for me, or is it just some other guy's leftovers?"
Mean! Jason Todd who knows for a fact that you're not a huge fan of anal. So, even if you did sleep with somebody else (which he's starting to realize wasn't the case), then at least that tight little hole would be unused.
You couldn't help but shiver slightly as you felt him rub the cold lube on your tight, unused hole. At least he had the 'kindness' to get you all wet before trying to bully his thick, long cock into you. "Jay, I can't-"
"Really? You 'can't'?" He actually laughs at you this time as he slides his thick, dripping tip between your cheeks. "Maybe you should've thought of that before going to get some other guy's dick wet."
Mean! Jason Todd who decides to make you forget every other guy you could possibly think of by pulling as many orgasms out of you as possible. You literally have to beg him to stop by the end of it. Your clit feels like its on fire and you can barely move your legs, but, God, that was probably the best sex you'd ever have.
Mean! Jason Todd who, despite how upset he wants to be with you, is absolutely smothering you with aftercare. He's always made sure that you're alright after hooking up, but this time was just a little more... Passionate?
Your thighs burned. Your hips burned. Even the core of your abdomen felt like it was on fire. But when that cool, damp cloth made contact with your sticky, sweat-sheened skin, it felt like heaven.
"Quit moving..." He mutters as he gently wipes away both of your sticky arousal from between your thighs. "I have you. You're alright... Just let me clean you up and we can sleep or get food, alright? Whatever you want, sweetheart."
Mean! Jason Todd who, by the end of the night, realizes that you didn't sleep with anybody else and just feels so much more at peace. It doesn't matter that you two are simply hooking up and non-exclusive. It doesn't matter that this all started because one of your friends cheated on him. What mattered was that your pretty little cunt and ass were all his for as long as possible (totally not that you were safe and he didn't have to worry about being replaced).
-----------------------------
Masterlist
#batfam#batfamily#batman#dc#redhood#jason todd x reader#jasontodd#arkham knight#jason todd smut#arkham knight x reader#arkham knight smut#jason todd#red hood#red hood x reader#red hood smut#redhood smut
471 notes
·
View notes
Text
But is she really yours? (141 x Reader)
Note(s) -
It's long, so be warned.
The guys are doing a little of what we like to call Dirty Mackin, and yes, I think this is something they’d all do in their own way.
Still working on getting those accents to come through, while not stepping into cringe/wrong territory.
I apologize, this is a very messy format (borderline stream of consciousness), and I’m trying to figure out a cleaner way to do this. I hope it doesn’t hurt the reading experience.
And I am the only one who kinda wants to see the reverse scenario, where Reader tries to get the guys away from their trash gfs? 👀Thanks to @bunnyreaper for the idea, it wrote itself as I read that.
Simon:
Annoying. That was the first thing Simon thought of you. So of course you had to work at the only cafe near his flat that made tea the way he liked.
You were always on your phone, arguing with someone (he guessed a boyfriend), and he hated getting stuck at your register. The calls clearly distressed you, and he didn’t know why you kept taking them. Especially on the job.
You’d gotten his order wrong more times than he could count, and you were always having to turn around and ask him to repeat the things he wanted. It got to the point where he waited until the other barista’s line was open.
Unfortunately, other customers had done the same, and it was causing a backup.
Then there was the day. His day started as it always did on his off time. The three S’s, and then he was at the gym to get his time in when he knew it was mostly empty. Then finally, his black tea.
He sighed, mentally preparing himself for the wait before he entered. As expected, there was a line.
You were there, and you appeared to be deeply engaged in conversation with the only person at your counter.
He was surprised to see you had a customer. ‘Must not be a regular.’
As he got closer to the counter, he could overhear the whispered argument. The man wasn’t a customer at all, he presumed he was the boyfriend from the phone calls. Based on the things the two of you were saying, that made the most sense.
‘Great. Getting the live version today.’ Simon had to wonder how you kept this job. Were you the boss's daughter? Did you own a share? Could he steal enough of the signature black tea blend and go into hiding until he had to ship out again?
You looked exasperated, and your co-worker stepped over to your side, coming to your aid.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Simon groaned, realizing the wait would be longer.
He stepped outside for a cigarette, making the mental decision that if by the time he was done with it there was still a line, he would forgo his drink that day.
He chose the alley on the side of the shop, not liking the openness of the sidewalk, and staked out against the opposite building’s wall.
He was halfway past the tip of his cigarette when the side door he’d been eyeing warily opened, and out came you.
You looked frustrated, anxious, and maybe a little embarrassed. He didn’t think you noticed him, instead, walking over to the dumpster and kicking it, hard. It sent a loud, tinny groan echoing through the alley. He narrowed his eyes, feeling that itch of frustration under his skin.
You noticed him finally, and stopped angrily muttering to yourself. Instead, you started talking to him. It was mostly an uninterrupted stream of dialogue for two minutes straight (he timed it), before he could finally understand you.
“Mandatory break! That’s the second one this week, can you believe that?”
He started to say yes, and that he hoped the third one won you a prize: getting fired. He kept his mouth shut though.
“It’s not even me, it’s my boyfriend. He means well, but he just…I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.” You were searching for something in your apron, but he couldn’t tell what, out of the corner of his eye.
Simon flexed his fingers, eyes narrowing until the shop’s logo mural was a blur. You found it, and walked closer to him until he turned both eyes to you.
“Can I get a light?” You gestured with the unlit cigarette between your fingers to the one burning between his lips.
“Bloody. Fuckin’. Hell, Bird! S’not enough you keep half the fuckin’ place backed up on a good day, but then you prance your arse out here to annoy me some fuckin’ more? Fuck off.” He jabbed his pointer finger at the door you’d come out of.
The alley echoed his baritone, and somehow made his outburst sharper.
You stared at him like he’d taken his head off, instead of having bitten off yours. Eyes wide, bottom lip trembling, he thought you might cry, and he began to feel guilt grow in the pit of his stomach. He’d forgotten, in the midst of you stirring up similar agitation, that he wasn’t on base talking to some recruit dumped on him.
You did cry, but once you started talking, he suspected it was more due to anger. “Fuck you! You fuck off, I work here!”
He ignored the small voice telling him ‘stop’, and fired back. “Work?” He snorted. “Real fuckin’ rich that is. Don’t confuse work with your million mandatory breaks.”
You clenched your fists, eyes wild with adrenaline and voice shrill with anger. “Go to hell. You’re just some freak in an alley who can’t remember when Halloween is. You don’t know me.”
You angrily wiped at your tears to no avail, as more quickly took their place, and then you started sobbing.
Simon sighed, feeling like shit and wishing he’d held it together just a little more. “Alright. Alright. ‘Nuff of that now.”
“I’m not crying *hic* because of you…” you huffed, trying to get your voice under control. “Just go back to your cigarette. I hope you suck it up and *hic* choke!”
He chuckled, you were the first person in a while who’d lashed back out at his harsh disposition. At least to his face. “Was uglier than I should’ve been, but won’t pretend there wasn’t some truth to it.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“You’re a shit barista, wanna form a band?” His lips quirked into a smirk around his near-stub cigarette.
For a beat there was silence, until the two of you burst into laughter. Yours a raucous peal of giggles, and his, raspy chuckles.
“Well, you earned that light. Got more balls then a lot of soldiers I know.”
The two of you stayed in that alley for thirty minutes just riffing off different topics. It ended with Simon giving you the friendly (read: rough) advice to not let your boyfriend cost you your job.
That’s not how he saw his day going. Having the most interesting conversation he’d had in a while with the woman who annoyed the piss out of him for the better part of his leave.
You were no longer annoying, you’d been upgraded to interesting, and that was the second thing Simon thought about you.
After your talk in the alley, Simon was pleasantly surprised to find that you’d taken his advice and stepped your skills up. It turned out, you were distracted by your boyfriend, but Simon had come to see why. He was obsessed with knowing where you were, and if you were thinking of him, and wondering if he should drop by.
Simon felt more guilt for being so impatient, and he decided no matter what, he would pick your line. That was the only reason too. It certainly wasn’t because he couldn’t stop thinking about you after your last conversation.
Sometimes you would take your breaks with him now, exhibiting that same forward nature from the alley, but it no longer annoyed him. He’d tease you about whether or not that break was mandatory, but he looked forward to it all the same.
You talked about anything and everything, from where you were from, to Simon having to explain the delicate ins and outs of football to you. (He was pretty sure you were pushing him to have a heart attack by pretending you forgot a different detail every time you talked).
It was an unstated, but mutually understood, thing that your time together fulfilled something missing for both of you. For him it was cutting into his habit of cutting off socialization until he was back on base or a mission, and for you, it was a break from your relationship.
He liked to think that you looked forward to your talks as much as he did, if your expression every time you saw him was an indicator.
Unlike him, you were an open book, so you did most of the talking. Simon soaked up everything you told him, filing it away. You were funny, and fascinating.
On his end, he was careful about some of what he shared, and nervous about other things. He had more dark or restricted anecdotes than humourous or endearing ones, and he didn’t want to bring you down. After all, you had more than enough of that to deal with.
The boyfriend. He was a nightmare of obsession and insecurity. It was perhaps your fourth break-hangout that Simon saw it completely for himself. He’d all but dragged you out of your seat, which made Simon rise from his so quickly, it almost toppled over behind him. He wasn’t unaware of his size, nor was he afraid to use it on the shorter man, but you assured him it was fine until he sat down.
Your boyfriend was panicking, wondering why you were keeping someone like him company. He wanted to know what it meant for the two of you, and Simon hated seeing you in an endless loop of begging the pathetic prick to believe you loved him. All of your humor and your cute little habits disappeared as he forced you to become a helicopter girlfriend, concerned only with his fears.
Simon decided then he would sway you away from him. He didn’t deserve you, and Simon may not have known you long, but he couldn’t stand to see you withering under him and his emotional blackmail. No one ever accused Simon of being sane.
You would be his, and that was the third thing Simon thought about you.
If he said so himself, he was slick about it. He’d forgotten about the amount of energy it took to pursue a relationship with someone, and why he limited his romantic interactions to hookups with women he found interesting.
You weren’t just interesting, he was fully infatuated with you by the time he started to actively move towards getting you away from that neurotic dumpster. You were worth the effort.
It started with seeing you outside of the cafe in a way that seemed natural. He thought about it for a while, before he settled on inviting you to a football game. He couldn’t believe he’d worried that you’d say no, your ‘yes’ came out before he was even done asking.
You were impressed with his timing, confessing that the night before, your boyfriend had thoroughly embarrassed you at a party, and you needed a fun day.
Simon had smiled tightly all through your hurried explanation that everything was fine, and that he had apologized once you got home with him.
The day of the game, you were absolutely adorable when he picked you up. Giddily introducing him to your roommate. She eyed him with approval, and even congratulated you for trading up.
Before you could correct her, he slipped in his answer. “That remains to be seen. Depends on if she embarrasses me at the game.”
You snorted, launching into that now familiar peal of giggles. “I promise I won’t. Now, which of these soccer teams is yours again? The Manfordshire Mermaids?”
“You wanna ride there on the roof?”
The trip was a better investment than he thought. You were enthralled with what was going on, the hype of the crowd, the skill of the players, and just being there in person. However, you had to rely on him to translate this new world to you, and that left you literally clinging to him in interest. Simon was your whole world in that stadium, and he locked that feeling down tightly for motivation.
Step one had gone off without a hitch, and now it was on to step two.
Outings with you became a series. Simon encouraged as many as possible in order to trigger the response he wanted.
He knew it wouldn’t be long until your boyfriend started getting antsy, and insecure again. You were going out twice as much as you had before you started hanging out with Simon outside of the cafe.
To push the matter, Simon told you his work schedule was getting hectic. It was a half truth, the training period before the announcement of a deployment had commenced, and Simon planned on having a girlfriend to come home to this time. Namely you.
He used the excuse to create later meetups. Dinners, movies, wandering the street and stumbling into things to do. All the while getting you hooked on his touch. Simon wasn’t a touchy-feely person by nature, and this was something everyone who knew him picked up on quickly. You picked up on it too, but he wanted to touch you. He didn’t though, at least not often.
Starting off with little touches that could be confused as an accident, he increased the pressure but kept the frequency low so you became addicted to his rare touches. He wanted you to feel special that someone like him indulged you in that way, so that you’d seek out more, even though HE was the one who felt blessed every time he felt your skin on his.
When you were together, he made sure things were about you. He didn’t imagine your boyfriend left much room for that with his paranoia, but he wanted to show you what you were in for once you were together.
One night, Simon kept you out later than usual. He’d stayed away from you for two weeks, which wasn’t hard, work was starting to pick up. He could’ve carved out a day or two though, but he wanted to make you crave his time like he did yours.
It worked. He scheduled a late dinner at an upscale restaurant, letting you fill him in on all that he missed. Namely, you missed being with him. You weren’t the type to keep your feelings to yourself, and you’d inevitably vented to your boyfriend about missing your friend. He didn’t like that label at all, but he liked what would come from your actions.
Periodically throughout the dinner, your phone rang, increasing in frequency as the night wore on.
You had to excuse yourself multiple times, and Simon pretended to be annoyed. In reality, he anticipated that. Each time the phone rang, you cringed and looked at him apologetically.
On what had to be the tenth time, Simon said. “Go on then, run off to pamper the pathetic bastard. Powder his arse too this time.”
Your face screwed up in objection to his barbed words. “He’s just worried…”
He shrugged. “Don’t owe me an explanation lovie. S’just a mystery why you’re in such a rush to be a nursemaid.”
Rolling your eyes, you stood up from the table. “I’m in a rush to be a good girlfriend thank you. Stop being an ass, I’ll be back in a minute.”
“S’go,” he downed the last of his bourbon before he pulled his wallet from his pocket. “I’ll pay the tab and take you home.”
“What? We’re supposed to have dessert, and then maybe a movie.”
Simon watched your distressed body language and expression with mild amusement, and he was proud of being able to hide it, even though he’d forgone his mask that night. “You’ve gotta tuck in your kid. S’not on me you won’t date a man.”
You pouted and sat back down. “If I put my phone away, you put your wallet away. You promised me dessert.”
He smirked, refusing to hide it now. This was the first time, since he’d met you, that you’d ignored your boyfriend, and it said a lot.
You did it once, so Simon was able to turn it into a habit. Your boyfriend looked increasingly unhinged as Simon made sure you starved him of your attention.
The ugly voicemails and text messages began soon after. He didn’t like that at all, and he had to remind himself the time to deal with your boyfriend would come, but he did appreciate that you were becoming less tolerant of him.
Every time you returned to Simon after having to soothe your boyfriend’s ego, and stop his tantrums, Simon made your life easier. He worshiped you in subtle ways, reminding you of what a man was, compared to a child.
There was guilt on your part, but it felt so good to be taken care of for once. To not have to worry about Simon bursting into a fit of insecurity that made you completely responsible for his feelings, and left little to no room for anything else.
When he touched you, it lit your nerve endings on fire. You knew that the touches were bordering on inappropriate, since you were still taken, but you also knew that your brain went numb with good vibrations with even just a brush of his fingertips.
Simon still kept it light, almost questionable as to whether it even happened, and you finally began to seek it out. Wearing backless tops so that his fingertips would brush your bare skin, sitting next to him in diner booths so a thick thigh was always brushing your own, going for things in high places so he’d steady you by your waist.
He never seemed to miss a beat on when and where to touch you, but it wasn’t enough.
The breaking point came when he invited you to a dinner Price was holding as a goodbye to civilian life until next leave. The verbal invitation was the most valuable thing to you in a while. Not only because you were increasingly becoming addicted to him, but because for someone like Simon to invite you into that part of his life, it meant that he was in deep with you too.
All of Simon’s friends were funny, inviting, and very taken by you. They were so polite to you, complimenting you, and telling you as much as they could about their work, trying to impress you.
You were having fun trying to keep up, but you got the impression that Simon inviting a woman he was seeing to meet them was a new thing, and they didn’t know the protocol.
You were surprised to find he went by Ghost in his field, and they were unused to hearing Simon. You shared how the two of you met, and how polite he wasn’t in your first conversation, and they weren’t surprised.
You were enjoying your time with them, the conversation never stopped, and you would venture to say Simon looked fond at times. Though, as each man became more flirtatious, his expression would change. It became an unspoken game between you and his team to try and make him speak up about it. He didn’t take the bait.
Then came the topic of your boyfriend.
“Come now love, you’re a smart girl. Why do you wanna waste your time with that bellend?” - Price
“I don’t ken what the situation here is, but if Ghost and the other one don’t appreciate you, I promise I will.” Soap
“I had a girl once, who used to follow me in her friend’s car, sit outside my apartment, and call me from different phones to test me. You’re fit as hell love, dump him.” - Gaz
It was a little embarrassing, and you were slightly annoyed that Simon had told them, but your mind kept shortening it to ‘he talked about me to his team.’
During dinner, you excused yourself to the bathroom. While you were washing your hands, Simon slipped into the room, making you jump.
Your eyes met in the mirror, where Simon just glared.
“Have fun with the boys, bird?”
“Have fun broadcasting my business?” You raised an eyebrow, but your tone held no anger to it.
Simon chuckled, locking the door. “S’not my business is it?”
You swallowed hard, shaking your head slowly.
He trapped you between the sink and himself, hands locking onto the counter on either side of you.
“Let’s fix that.” His lips pressed to the pulse point on the side of your neck, speaking his command against it. “Get rid of him lovie, and come home where you belong.”
You tried to do just that, but for the first time that you could recall, your boyfriend wasn’t taking your calls.
Simon watched you while he packed, tucked beneath his sheets where you belonged, bare. It’d been a week since you took that next step in his captain’s guest bathroom, and you’d been trying to inform your ex he was now in fact, your ex.
You gingerly rolled over to face him, mindful of all the reminders that he loved you he left your body. “Si, he’s still not picking up. I don’t want to do it over the phone, but…”
“Don’t get worked up. Maybe he got the message already...”
Kyle:
He’d re-visited Chicago on his downtime, and met you in a club. Unknown to him at the time, your boyfriend had stood you up for the third time that month, and you decided not to waste the night. It’d made you so free and enthralling to watch, he couldn’t look away.
Gaz spent the entire night with you, glad he’d ignored the jet lag, even when you took him to all the best after-hours spots.
The only problem was your boyfriend, Keith, who Gaz personally believed formed in the bottom of a toilet, and sought life elsewhere. His team thought he was delusional, and/or giving you too much thought.
“You hitting the States again then? Don’t get in the kind of trouble that you can’t get out of because you’re jealous.” - Price
“Garrick! Get your fuckin’ head off your cock, and on the exercise, before I shove my boot down your throat!” - Ghost (after he fumbled a training exercise twice)
Except for Soap, Soap backed his delusions %1,000. “She let you charge your phone when hers needed it more? That’s wedding bells lad, and I wanna be best man.”
Then there was the relentless teasing every time he spent his leave with you, but Gaz didn’t care. He couldn’t bother being embarrassed when you were waiting for him. Your grin was for him, your excited laughter was for him, and your hug was for him. The one he always held longer than friends do, his heart racing when you relaxed in his hold. Smirking when he felt your nose brush over chest quickly. You were sheepish when he grinned down at you, realizing what you were doing.
You’d gotten him cologne on his first (date) daytime hangout with you. You’d been strolling through the mall, Gaz trying to make you forget about the ugly scene he’d walked into between you and your boyfriend when he arrived at your place.
You’d been so sad, and it didn’t suit you at all. He just wanted to take you out of that environment, and let your real-self blossom again.
His hand brushed with yours, pinkies locking and unlocking so he could feel his stomach dip again and again.
He was able to slowly bring you back, into a little world of inside jokes and friendly culture clashes. Gaz fully had you back by the time he stopped in front of an expensive looking fragrance shop and said:
“You know what? I need a new aftershave, but I’m clueless about shopping for that stuff.”
“Uh, aftershave?” you’d looked puzzled, peering into the store window. “Do they even sell that here?”
He let out a confused laugh, pointing at the bottles on the glass shelf. “We’re looking at it, so I’d guess yes.”
“You mean cologne?” you gave him your first real smile since you’d gotten there, and Gaz forgave yet another correction in favor of it.
“Get in here, and help me find an aftershave.”
He proposed that you guys find the perfect scent for the other and buy it as a gift. The two of you spent the better part of thirty minutes teasing and sniffing each other. Every time Gaz lifted a part of your arm or wrist to his nose, he let his lips brush across your skin accidentally.
“Kyyylee..” you whined every time, making him stir in the right places at the wrong time.
Eventually you both settled on something for the other, but Kyle slyly placed himself in the position of paying for both. The thought of you paying never having been a real thing in his mind.
“You’ll get it next time, love.”
He treasured that scent, you’d specifically picked it out for him, and he’d savored the look you gave him when you’d finally found it. Now he was in front of you again.
“Yeah, it’s the one you bought me. Did me a good turn with that. I get compliments like they get paid to give ‘em.”
“Who’s complimenting you?” you asked, your wince revealing it’d probably come out sharper than you meant for it to.
Gaz didn’t mind, he liked you as jealous as he was.
He chuckled, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Just..other girls with good taste.”
Your pout and sharp head turn went right on display in the mental gallery he had of you. He couldn’t resist teasing you again.
“Are you wearing the one I picked.” he leaned down hovering just over your neck where he knew you could feel the soft puffs of breath on your neck. He heard your breath hitch when he hummed, confirming that you were.
“I am, and don’t worry about who’s complimenting it, since you have sooo many of your own.”
Gaz laughed as you yanked him after you with a huff. If he was delusional, you weren’t helping.
This visit was going how he imagined it, and he intended to end it exactly that way too. Finally getting that bastard out of a picture he should’ve never been a part of.
When clubbing, Kyle kept you close. You both loved to dance, and every song that came on seemed out to prove that your bodies were built to fit together like a puzzle.
He took an interest in your life, wanting to see what you got up to when he wasn’t there. You’d resisted, thinking it’d bore him. It did not.
He enjoyed meeting your co-workers, and eating at the cafe you loved a block from your job. You even took him to spend an afternoon with your family. Every time he scored a point with them, you gave him this dreamy expression he was determined to see for the rest of his life.
When he suggested making plans with your friends, so they didn’t feel like you were ignoring them while he was there, you were thrilled at how considerate he was, and he got the pleasure of overhearing you hype him up to your friends while you invited them out to do something.
It was you blocking your girlfriends every time one of them tried to push the flirtation with him too far, that let him know it was time.
He decided he would make his move when the two of you were having a movie night at your place. It wasn’t ideal, because that piece of shit was lingering around the place. Kyle hated that you lived together, but wouldn’t let that interfere. He had work to do.
“Kyyyleee.” you giggled, dragging his name out the way he loved when he ran a finger down your cheek to your neck, complimenting your skin.
“Just admiring your skin routine. You’ve gotta share.”
Or, when he shivered, and you instinctively extended your blanket to him. He took it without question, trying not to think about all of the things you could do under a shared blanket. Although, your boyfriend walking in and out of the room, pretending he had things to get out of the kitchen, made the thought more enticing.
You’d invited him to watch in earnest, and he’d just cut you down in a way that made Kyle quickly remind him he was in your apartment, because he’d lost his job, and had nowhere else to go. That you’d sweetly taken him in, and that he should remember that.
He enjoyed kicking him down while raising you up.
Your boyfriend finally just sat at the kitchen table in the dark, fuming. The living room was visible to him from there, but Kyle was glad to have him as an audience to him reminding you of your worth.
You two exchanged snacks and commentary, easily ignoring the unwanted third party.
“No offense love, but beer here is straight piss.”
You laughed, stealing one of the cookies left on his plate. “Beer tastes like that in general.”
“How would you know? You’ve never been anywhere.” your boyfriend snapped at you nastily, from where he’d been glaring at the two of you for an hour. “And why don't you go back to jolly old England if you hate it so much?”
Gaz lazily rolled his head in his direction, body language shouting how much he didn’t respect him. “Mate, you’re being a right prick right now. It’s not like you bought the beer, or anything else you’ve been shoving in that hole.”
Your boyfriend leapt to his feet, fast enough to knock over the chair. “Come over here and repeat that teacup.”
“Blud, that’s not what you want.”
“Kyle don’t, he’s just drunk and embarrassed. Ignore him when he’s like this.” you quickly passed a hand over the back of his, but he just gave you a soft smile instead.
“That’s his problem, he embarrassed himself. Why don’t you go in the back and find something to do.” He was so effortlessly dismissive, that your boyfriend mistook this for being unprepared to fight.
Kyle’s one rule for his plan was that he wouldn’t physically handle your boyfriend unless he got physical with you. He’d planned to show you how you should be loved, and let a smart girl like you do the rest. That went out the window.
He kept it clean, the other man was stocky, but didn’t stand a chance against his training. If you hadn’t been there, he might’ve taken it further, grinding his hatred of him into harsher blows. Instead, he gave him quick, almost surgically effective, blows to put him down. He was too intoxicated and unskilled to retaliate.
“See, he just needed a nap.” Gaz tried to lighten the mood.
“I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered. “I don’t know why he’s always like this now. He didn’t use to be. I just want this to stop.”
Kyle shushed you, crossing the room to pull you into his arms. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’ve been dealing with this for too long.”
“I’m so tired.” you admitted, clutching his soft shirt, and inhaling his scent (your scent, that you gave him) that made your eyes roll back in your head. He was so solid, warm, and a darker word popped into your mind, ‘mine.’
“You’ve been so good to everyone, too good. Let me take care of you.” he whispered, hands roaming from your lower back to cup your ass.
He heard the hybrid of a whimper-moan, and it had him at attention before you were done.
“I’d be just like him…” you trailed off weakly.
“That’s not possible.” He lowered his lips to yours, giving you the first kiss from him that couldn’t possibly be mistaken as platonic. You kissed back without any hesitation, not even willing to pull away when he started to lead you to the back. To your room.
Hate him as he did, Gaz noted somewhere in his mind how dark the scenario was. The location, and situation, in which he was about to fulfill the second-to-last step of his plan was kind of fucked.
He cupped your jaw in both hands,“Babe…we can go back to my room at the hotel.”
He didn’t want to. He wanted to erase any trace of him here, starting in your room. He wanted you everywhere he could have you in the apartment, and he wanted him to come to just enough to hear it.
“Makes no sense. Too far. Here.” you murmured, pupils blown wide.
Gaz didn’t need to be told twice. You were barely able to string a sentence together, and it was top three one of the hottest things he’d ever heard.
“Yes ma'am.”
Kyle didn’t doubt you’d complete the final step in the morning, and officially dump the forgotten man on the floor.
Johnny:
You and Johnny met through social media. He thought you were gorgeous and, being John “Soap” MacTavish, couldn’t leave your profile without letting you know. Though he threw in some playful critique.
You responded with a thanks, and a challenge for him to do the picture better. It resulted in a months-long photo battle that quickly became a real friendship.
Late phone calls, video calls, and constant strings of texting built a whole world between the two of you.
You were the highlight of his day sometimes, especially when he’d been gone awhile. You helped him reconnect with the world after shutting it out to defend it.
The only problem was your boyfriend. Johnny prided himself on being able to get along with all kinds of people. It was just in his nature. Hate was so rarely felt by him, that he always had trouble identifying it when he felt it.
He felt hate for your boyfriend, and it didn’t take him long to figure that out. He thought he didn’t deserve you. He was always talking to you reckless, like he didn’t have the most beautiful woman in the world in his life. Johnny wouldn’t talk to you like that, he wouldn’t have time to even consider it for all the worshiping of you he’d be doing.
He’d cheated, only to make you feel like that was on you, and you took him back.
When Johnny heard your pained sobs for the first time, he’d been halfway through texting Simon to ask for help with a dark favor before he was able to talk himself down.
It was then Johnny realized how much you’d come to mean to him, and that only made him hate your boyfriend more.
Your conversations ranged from anything to everything, but they always ended with you venting, and Johnny comforting. He didn’t mind it, in fact, most times he initiated it.
He realized, he must mean a good deal to you too, because you got all your comfort from him. Johnny’s thoughts mattered to you, and you sought his advice all the time. He hated what for, but he loved that you did.
“He didn’t even like the dress Johnny. I told him you thought of it, and he accused me of wanting to wear it for you.” your screen shook violently as you stomped into your bedroom, sending said garment sailing through the air.
“M’sorry to hear that. I meant what I said when you showed it to me in the shop. Any guy that doesn’t lose it to you in that dress deserves to be committed.”
You sniffed, choking out a humorless chuckle. “I’m glad you liked it at least.”
“Oh, you don’t ken how much sweetheart. In fact, put it on for me again.”
Six months into the friendship, he convinced you to come visit him in Scotland. You’d been having more trouble with your boyfriend than usual, living with him didn’t exactly give you a lot of places to take a breather.
Once Johnny confirmed he hadn’t hurt you physically, he’d switched to coaxing you into coming to see him for a couple of weeks.
“C’mon bonnie, I’ve been stateside more times than I can count. You haven’t been here once.” He watched you do your bedtime routine, as the sun came up in the windows behind him.
He loved how despite being countries away, the moment felt as intimate as if you were with him. In his home, getting ready to come to bed with him. Except if you were, he’d tell you not to bother brushing your hair. You’d just have to do it again later.
You laughed as you ran a comb through your hair. “It’s not like you came here for me Johnny. We didn’t even know each other the last time you were here.”
“So…you’ll return the favor later. Be my pretty tour guide.”
You wound up in Scotland barely a week later. A suitcase full of clothes haphazardly thrown into it.
“I don’t even know what I packed, it's a mess!”
Cue Johnny, who can’t quit hugging you, and they feel less and less platonic. “Don’t worry ‘bout it bon. I’ll find somewhere for it all to go.”
Somewhere turns out to be designated drawers and shelves, that he’d cleared in advance, for your clothes and bath products. Johnny putting them away himself like the simp for you he is. All the while distracting you from stating how you wouldn’t be there long, and you don’t need all that space.
“We’ll see.”
Johnny had been coaxing less and less innocent behaviors out of you all week, and just worshiping you when he wasn’t. You were a worked up hybrid of desperation, and restored self-confidence. It was addictive, and you started to lean into Johnny’s touches and kisses. You pretended you didn’t hear his murmured dirty statements so he’d have to try again and again.
It came to a head when you finally accepted a video call from your pathetic boyfriend.
You were in Johnny’s living room, wearing his favorite football jersey, with him behind you, absolutely refusing to make himself scarce. You didn’t want to take the call anyway, but Johnny convinced you it’d be good for closure.
Your boyfriend started going off, yelling about how you didn’t respect him or your relationship, and demanding that ‘you bring your ass home’.
“The thing of it is lad, there’s not really anything about this relationship to respect.” Johnny slipped around to your side, tilting your head up to press his lips to yours.
You hummed in surprise, but all of his gentle touches and sweet kisses over the week had you pliant. You immediately responded, squeezing his arm when he slipped his tongue into your mouth as a tease.
He pulled away, looking way too smug, and looking all the more impossibly-handsome for it. “Say bye to your ex-boyfriend then bon. The rest of this isn’t for him.”
You gurgled something like goodbye as you slammed the lid on your laptop, attention still fully on Johnny.
John Price:
Price thought your fiance should crawl in a fire and stay there. Yeah. He wasn’t ashamed.
The man was garbage, and hardly worth you giving him a glance, let alone this much sacrifice. You’d moved countries for him, happy to make your home with him because of his job. He treated it as though that should’ve been a given.
That’s how Price had gotten to know you. You lived in the apartment across the hall from him, and the first moment you smiled at him, John was a goner.
You introduced yourself with a smile, your pretty little hand extended out towards him. He’d stood there, wishing he hadn’t worn his ratty sweatshirt with his old football team logo in fading letters. You looked gorgeous, hair framing your face, slightly out of breath from lugging in your things.
He’d stumbled in his mind until he finally remembered proper social protocol. “Price…Captain John.” He cleared his throat. “Captain John Price.”
Your mouth formed an ‘o’, you were visibly intrigued.“Captain? You’re in the military.”
“Yes.”
“Well…thank you for your service.”
Normally, John didn’t react to that line as expected. He’d heard it enough times to wish he had a pound for every time, but that was about it. He didn’t do his job for thanks, and sometimes felt they shouldn’t be for him anyways.
Coming from you however, it was different. He had the reaction he knew most people wanted. He knew from the heat in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, they were red.
Your fiancé, who’d appeared in the doorway behind you, stole his chance to answer.
“Yeah, thanks or whatever. (Y/N), come in here and figure out where you want your hair crap to go. I’m just going to toss it anywhere in a moment.”
“Oh, you could’ve just put it under the sink.”
“You should be getting ready anyways, we have a dinner engagement.” He adjusted his shirt cuffs, eyeing John like he was picturing ways he could kill him.
John wanted to see him try just one.
“Bye John,” you gave a wave, a soft smile on your lips. “I’ll see you.”
You disappeared inside, leaving the two men in a stare down. There was a silent conversation at play, what your fiancé wanted to say was stated without a word. How much John cared about that was conveyed in the same manner.
Your fiancé broke first, slamming the door behind him.
“We’ll see if I’ll stay away.” He muttered, going into his own place.
Over that first month, you two got to know each other well. Your fiance was often at work, and you turned to John with your questions as you tried to settle into your new home. You had no one else there, and even though John had planned to decompress in complete isolation, he couldn’t do that to you. Didn’t have a part of his being that wanted to.
However, as John got to know you, he got to know your fiance too. Enough to know if he was ever going to murder someone outside of work, it’d be him.
It started with small things like what takeout you should go for, or which grocery store did he use? It seemed your fiance was useless.
One day, you needed help putting together your beauty table. You’d come to John, clearly embarrassed, and something told him you’d debated on asking him for a while. Your fiance refused, because you hadn’t paid attention when you were checking out, and didn’t select the construction help option.
“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me love. You mean to tell me that he never made a mistake?” John was already coming out of his apartment, ready to help.
“It’s stupid, but I don’t feel like arguing with him over it. We’re in an ok place right now.” you laughed awkwardly, leading him inside.
“Ok probably isn’t a place you want to be when you’re headed for the church.” it came out of his mouth before he could think about how it wasn’t his place.
He was so used to being blunt, and dealing out cold, hard facts or opinions. It always took him a minute to readjust to what was appropriate, but by then he was back on duty.
You looked stunned, clearly not expecting that from him. Your arms crossed defensively, giving him a side glance while you mulled over responding.
He meant what he said, but he never would’ve delivered it to you that way, or at all, if he had thought two seconds more.
“‘M sorry. It’s really not my place is it?” he gestured to the back of the apartment. “Where do you need me?”
There were many more opportunities to spend time with you, and with them, opportunities to point out the toxicity he was seeing. It wasn’t in John’s nature to ignore obvious problems, he got paid to do the opposite. He had to resign himself every time so he didn’t upset you.
With every time he gave you directions, or answered a local cultural difference that confused you, you two lingered in each other’s presence a little longer. He wasn’t going to spoil that.
Your requests started to leave the territory of furniture building and directions, and started to cross more into trying a new recipe, and how you could do better at fitting into your new home. Your conversations started to get deeper, more information about each other being shared.
There were times where you dropped off food, having made too much, or your fiance didn’t want what you cooked. John loved your cooking as it was, he normally lived off whatever he could grab and nuke, but he threw in extra enthusiasm for spite and your pretty smile.
Sometimes John found reasons to come over to your place.
“Share a cake love? Don’t get excited, I picked it up at the shops.” “Just bringing back your bowl.” “I can take a look at that window if maintenance is still laying about.”
And without fail, you made him stay every time. You got lonely, and you still knew very few people in the area outside of him. Your fiance didn’t seem to care, he felt he’d set you up with plenty of friends in his circle. John called them posh knobheads, and you couldn’t agree more. You had nothing in common with them, and you always wound up back with John to vent.
He found it easier to talk to you than he had anybody else, and from the never ending conversation between you two, he guessed you felt the same. The topic of the nature of your relationship was verboten, but that was fine by him. By that point, he was more interested in making you forget you even had a fiance. He really hadn’t even made an effort to do it, it just tilted that way, and he leaned into it.
You weren’t exactly stopping his flirtatious comments, in fact, you seemed to light up in ways he hadn’t seen until then.
Then came the outings. As your fiance got more negligent, you got bolder. It started with you taking a chance to invite John to a movie when you two bumped into each other in the mailroom. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to the cinema, and he couldn’t say what was playing if someone held a gun to his head, but ‘don’t see why not’ fell out of his mouth with no resistance.
Then it was shopping together, or you dragging him to a museum and him bullshitting his art knowledge to make you laugh. He didn’t normally spend his time off being this active socially. He decompressed, and prepared for the next assignment. Maybe he’d meet a woman at a pub and bang out some release before getting back into formation.
He’d wondered if he would regret doing things differently on his next deployment, but that stopped the first time someone mistook the two of you for a couple. That alone would’ve been enough for him to keep his delusions (that he definitely did not have) going, but it was the fact that you didn’t correct them. It happened again, and if he thought he imagined things, he hadn’t. You never corrected the person, just gave a coy smile and accepted the compliment.
Well if you didn’t, he certainly wasn’t going to.
The final time that John could say he only found you attractive, instead of wanting you completely, you’d come to him to ask him if he could drive you to a little farmer’s market outside of the city. Things hadn’t been going well with you and your fiance.
You didn’t have to tell John, he could attest to that himself. He’d heard your arguments in his place, and between the noise level, and trying to make sure it didn't go to a place where you weren’t safe, he wasn’t getting much sleep.
Your plan was to cook your fiance a favorite meal from his childhood, using nothing but farm fresh ingredients. You figured that all you needed to get things on track was a quiet night in, focused on reminding each other why you were engaged. John nearly bit through his tongue to keep himself from bringing up the fact that it seemed the workload on maintaining the relationship fell solely on your shoulders.
Instead, he shoved his bucket hat on his head, and lied about needing to head out that way anyways.
The car ride started out quiet on his part, with you filling in the conversation. Price may have flexed his fingertips in jealousy more times than he could count, but you were so goddamn beautiful when you were excited. It almost hurt to look at you head on, so he gave you side glances to show he was listening.
At the market, your excitement didn’t die down. In fact, it turned into infectious playfulness. You two teased each other, engaged in playful scams to get more samples, and dared each other to come up with crazier and crazier stories about yourselves for the owner of each stall you visited.
Price would die twice before he admitted that he imagined you were on a date a couple times during the day. You never brought your fiance up, and he had to remind you to check your grocery list more than once.
It was late afternoon when you returned to the car, laden with goodies and constructing inside jokes. John was enjoying his time with you so much, he almost forgot he had to tell you he was shipping out the following week. He didn’t know if you’d care so much as to need an announcement in advance, but he felt he should.
He was worried about you, and he would think of you wherever he was bound to wind up, hoping you’d come to your senses and leave the garbage behind. Of course, he’d miss you…and he certainly wasn’t under any delusion that when you’d taken out the trash, maybe you’d consider him.
“Why’re you so quiet?” you’d squeezed his bicep to get his attention, and he instinctively pushed his arm into your hands, encouraging the touch.
It was quiet for a moment, before you slowly uncurled your fingertips, and placed your hands in your lap. His face flooded with embarrassed warmth.
Had he gone too far by leaning into the physical?
Price white-knuckle-gripped the steering wheel, swallowing down what he thought was a rejection he had no right to be hurt about, and cleared his throat. “Right. I’m heading out next week, and it won’t be short. Just thought you should know.”
Whatever reaction he expected from you, it wasn’t the one you gave.
“What?” You placed a hand on your chest, and then rolled your eyes. “Well that’s great.”
John gave you a bewildered expression, and it must've shown, because you quickly straightened up and faced forward.
“I don’t know about great, but it is my job. The one I was quite clear about when we first met.”
“Pull over.” you said so quickly, he wasn’t even sure you’d heard his response.
“What? Why? Are you feeling il-”
“No..just..please.” you gestured to the side of the road.
He obliged, brows drawn tight and carrying all of his questions. “Your boy is going to be home soon, and we still have a bit of a drive ahead of us. What-”
“I wanted to come here because of you.” you breathed out, still facing forward, your posture almost impossibly rigid.
“Me? You’re not making much sense (Y/N).”
You huffed, and when you turned to him, your expression took his breath away. In that moment he could read every thought you were thinking, and it would’ve bowled him over if he wasn’t sitting.
He felt electricity beneath his skin, the feeling he got any time he was about to do something drastic and dangerous.
It was the little hidden thing in your eyes that he couldn’t place that gave him pause.
“I came here, because I wanted to get away with you for today. I needed to.” you turned your whole body to him. “I don’t give a fuck about fresh ingredients for him, he probably won’t eat it anyways.”
You huffed, rolling your eyes. “We agreed to start over. And I’m going to try, I really am, but…I still can’t stop feeling need.”
In the looming silence, all John could do was scratch his beard, and try not to look as stupid as he was sure he did. He knew what you were saying, what you were toeing at, but surely you were just venting. You couldn’t-
“S’not right love.” Now it was his turn to look ahead. “Not for him, fuck him. For you. You’re upset and you’re scared, and you're raw.”
“And I need this.” you breathed. “If you’re trying to protect me, stop. If you don’t want me in that way..ok, I’m a big gi-”
“Oooh,” his voice came from deep in his chest, baritone thrumming through the car. “That’s not it. I promise you, that’s.not.it.”
Your fingertips gently pulled his face in your direction. “You’re leaving me…and when you get back things are going to have to be different.”
There it was. John swallowed, hard.
“I’m being selfish, but..I thought I’d have a little more time with you before..” Your eyes watered. “It’d be one thing if you really were just my friend, but that’s not right is it?”
John wiped at your eyes with his thumb before cupping his cheek in his hand. “No, it’s not.”
“Just one time.”
It was a struggle to say no to you, and that didn’t stop now. He pulled your mouth to his, hands gripping your shoulders in a subconscious effort to prove this was happening. You were in front of him, kissing him back as hard as he was kissing you.
He unbuckled you, and pulled you into his lap, sliding the seat back.
“I’m gonna miss you.” you were crying now, and neither one of you did anything about the tears.
His hands cupped the back of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair. “Oh, sweet girl. Why didn’t you meet me sooner?”
What transpired after was the most bittersweet moment he could recall. He had heartbreaks and troubled relationships before, but he’d never had to have a breakup with a woman he wasn’t sure he’d been seeing in the first place, but knew that he loved.
He took you twice in his car, before finally, the two of you could no longer ignore the setting sun and had to return home.
John remembered why he preferred to take a girl somewhere quickly, and then spend the rest of his leave in solitude, occasionally seeing a trusted friend. It wasn’t as fulfilling as what he had with you, but it didn’t hurt this deeply either.
He sat in his apartment for hours after he watched you disappear into your own. He didn’t even bother turning on a light when it got too dark, he just sat there, continuing to contemplate how things had gotten to be such a mess. How could he continue to pride himself on being the logical leader he thought he was, when he’d made such a mess of himself so quickly?
How was he supposed to forget you? How was he supposed to forget that he loved you, and that you loved him with another man’s ring on your finger?
The thought of seeing you, carrying your fiance’s child, and looking miserable during what should’ve been one of the happiest times of your life made Price leap from the couch. That familiar electricity raising every hair on his person to a point.
He didn’t know what he was doing, or what he was going to say, but he was moving like he’d planned it for months.
When he stepped into the hall, he paused.
You were sitting on the plush hall couch, eyes puffy, with a death grip on a pyrex dish. Your hair was perfectly styled, and you were wearing a low-cut silken dress that made him want to fall to his knees now that he knew what lay beneath. Your eyes widened at the sight of him, trying to curb your sniffles.
“I was right, he wouldn’t eat it. He got mad and left.”
“You should’ve made him wear it instead.” John’s fist clenched at his side, itching to do what he wanted from the moment he first saw him get short with you.
You shook your head, rising to your feet. “I don’t blame him this time. I didn’t make it for him, anymore than I shopped for it with him in mind, and I told him so.”
You held up the dish, and John saw it was his favorite. His idea of a perfect Sunday roast in one pot. Your meaning was clear.
“I just kept thinking, it shouldn’t be this hard. I mean, it shouldn’t be, right?” you stepped forward.
“No, it shouldn’t be.” He also took a step forward.
“It’s not that way with you.” Another step.
“I would hope not.” he also took another step
You stopped when all that separated the two of you was the dish.
“So this belongs to me then?” he was staring at the dish, but his hands gently grasped your wrists.
You, however, were looking directly at him when you breathed out. “Yes.”
#141 x reader#cod#call of duty#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#john price x reader#kyle gaz garrick#john price#reader insert#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#Soap#soap x reader#tf 141 x reader#fem reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
I Might Bite .ᐟ
❤︎ | Resorting to dirty measures like biting your superior during sparring usually doesn't end without you having a taste of your own medicine... (2.6k wc) ╰ feat. Hoshina Soshiro (Kn8) x afab! reader
kinktober entry no. 2 | kinktober masterlist
tags - subordinate! reader, biting, marking, spanking, pussy slaps, humiliation & punishment, Hoshina's kinda mean, fingering, p in v, creampies, swearing
minors do not interact
The recent uptick of kaiju attacks over the city has every member of the JAKDF on edge. No one knows when the next attack is coming or if they'll live to see their next birthday. The atmosphere in the Tachikawa base specifically felt odd. Most were hopeless, but then there was you.
You weren't the strongest by any means, but you believed that if it came to being persistent—you'd be the best. It showed; after all, you trained your ass off even in your off hours.
There were times you bled and shed a tear, but you never stopped. Your fellow officers often told you to slow down. But there was one person who always watched from the sidelines—silently observing how you improved every night that you would sneak away into the training rooms.
It was none other than your superior, Hoshina Soshiro.
The vice captain didn't seem all too interested to be invested in the lives of the officers. Frankly, he had better things to do. But the rookie that worked themselves to the bone had successfully caught his eye. There was something about them that reminded him of himself. In many ways, he was drawn to that fiery spirit.
Not a lot of recruits had your determination and he was more than willing to foster that. What kind of vice captain would he be if he didn't help you in honing your skills?
────────────
You stared, dumbfounded, at the fox eyed man in front of you.
"Ya heard me right the first time," he insisted.
You gulp down. "Well... I'm certainly not going to refuse your offer, sir. I was just making sure I understood what you said."
"I told ya—I'll help ya train every night. I meant it."
Finding out that your superior knew you have been violating the curfew had you expecting the worst. But Hoshina's reaction was rather unforeseen.
Instead of making you run laps or do cleaning duty—he offered to train with you during your night sessions. It made sense; training with someone better than you would allow you to improve at faster speeds. The choice was a no-brainer.
"Alright... thank you, sir."
Hoshina simply nodded before walking away from you, satisfied that you were cooperative with his ideas.
"Sir!"
He turns around with a small smile. "Yes?"
"When do we start?"
"Have ya skipped a day before?"
"...No, not really."
His smile widens. "Ya have yer answer then."
────────────
Labored breaths filled the training room—though, most of it came from you. Hoshina barely broke a sweat throughout your entire sparring session. It wasn't shocking anymore at this point.
You estimate that it's already about two weeks since he has started joining you in your training. Not once have you won against him.
At first, it felt quite motivating—knowing that you had so much to improve. But as days go by, it becomes depressing how you can never even land a good hit on him.
You weren't fit to face a kaiju with how things stand and it crushed your once blazing spirits.
With your chest heaving and your vision blurring, you continued to anticipate his next move. You figured he'd at least cut you some slack after seeing the massive difference in skill, but he was merciless. You didn't even fight back as he tackled you to the ground.
Hoshina Soshiro wasn't just talented with a blade, but also with his bare hands. Who would have thought he knew grappling as well? He easily put you in a rear naked choke and you felt your airway quickly constrict.
He taught you that if you couldn't even handle basic hand-to-hand combat—then you'd be nothing doing anything else. Besides, before ending your session with the usual bare knuckled fighting, he trained you with swords and other weapons... in which you couldn't beat him in either.
Going up against him was futile. You absorbed his teachings like a sponge, but when it came to applying them—all hope is lost.
You were going to pass out soon; you could feel it.
Despite telling yourself that you'd always fight fair and square—you realized that this wasn't the time to be righteous. Virtues, principles—whatever the fuck it is—chucked out the window.
You bit down on his arm—hard. Did you draw blood? Perhaps. But that hardly mattered to you. He finally let go, failing to defeat you completely. Hoshina hissed, checking out the fresh wound you gave him.
Neither could you move or speak. In fact, you kept your back leaning on his chest. Doing anything other than breathing was a bit too much at the moment.
"Ya play dirty, don'cha?" he whispered darkly into your ear.
The thickness and intimidation laced in his voice was enough to reinvigorate your entire being. You took the deepest breath possible before peeling yourself off of him.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"Of course ya didn't mean ta do that, right?" he cuts you off, lifting you off of the ground with his impressive strength.
"What shall I ever do with ya? Li'l thing bitin' her superior."
You could only stutter out a pathetic apology as he carries you in his arms.
"Nah, don'cha apologize now. Ya must be sick of me treatin' ya like a ragdoll hm?"
He was right, of course. But you weren't about to admit that to him.
Hoshina carried you over to the side of the room where the long metal bench was. Even out of fighting, he continued to treat you like a doll with the way you effortlessly flipped you over. Your stomach pressed against his lap with one of his hands resting on your nape.
You weren't sure where his other hand was, but you soon found out... the hard way.
A sharp slap made its way to your ass. It had you sucking in more air than usual.
"Not even a single yelp huh? Think ya can handle more? Ya need to be punished after all."
Another slap and then another on the other cheek. Tears were starting to brim in your eyes. With the next slap, you finally yelped in pain. Hearing your sharp breaths, he caressed your poor behind in a soothing manner.
"Think ya've repented enough?"
God, you didn't want to sound weak, but a few sniffles escaped you. His question racked your brain, yet not a single good answer came for it. It was a trap and he was steadily luring you in.
You figured—silence was the best response. However, that pissed off the vice captain even more. Hoshina let out a long and deep sigh. He didn't want to do this; he swears. But you just had to push his buttons.
"Not speakin' huh? How many times will ya disrespect yer superior after I've been kind enough ta be trainin' ya every night?"
If you've learned one thing about him these past few sessions—it was that he never gave you time to react. Only now, you're discovering that it applies to things apart from fighting as well.
He slid you off his lap without warning. Soon as you flipped yourself over, the vice captain was already hovering over you with a stern expression on his face.
He inched closer, slowly but steadily. His eyes never left yours and it seemed to have you in a trance because you failed to realize how he had already caged you between his thick arms.
"Sir..." you managed to say between shaky breaths.
"So you can speak?"
Your eyes finally stray from his face, feeling flustered by the proximity.
"Ya should use that mouth of yers fer talkin' —not fer bitin' ," he said. He leaned in to the point that you felt the warmth of his breath against your neck. It was tantalizing—almost paralyzing. "I think ya should get a taste of yer own medicine," he added.
No time was given to protest as he sunk his sharp teeth into your neck. You gasp, hands finding purchase on his arms. He suckled on the tender skin, sure to leave a mark that you'd have to cover up in the morning.
Then another bite came. Your fingers dug into his flesh. It was painful, but oddly arousing. The intoxicating scent he radiated coupled with his fine looks were a recipe for disaster. But the only one being ruined was you.
Perhaps he felt satisfied after two bites, settling on wet kisses scattered on your neck instead. He kept getting lower and lower until he was met with a barrier.
"Lemme get this out of the way, a'ight?" he says before gripping the soft fabric of your black tanktop—ripping it apart. He smirked at the sight, a flimsy lacey bra.
He pushed it up before smashing his face down on your chest, sucking and lightly biting at a sensitive bud. Your hands went from his biceps to his hair, almost pulling out the strands from the roots.
He bit, tugged, and marked you all over again—like he was staking claim. Hoshina made sure to give attention to the other one as well, sucking on the swell of your breast while using his fingers to toy with the other.
Truth be told, he was too excited and immersed in devouring you that he only now became aware of your sounds. It was delightful to say the least. It made him smile as he nipped at the sensitive flesh.
You began to arch your back, needing more of him. But he took this as a sign to go even lower, planting more kisses that trailed down your stomach. He was giving you whiplash with the alternating softness and harshness of his touch.
He looked up at you and saw your dazed expression, unable to even look back at him. This was fine; this was the only time he'd permit a subordinate not looking him in the eye.
For once, you were able to catch your breath and make sense of it all. You returned your gaze to the man above you. He was hovering over you again, looking down with a feral glare. His large hand gripped your thigh.
"Ya know... fer someone bein' disciplined... ya sure look like yer enjoyin' this."
"I'm not," you retorted. But both of you knew the truth.
"Ya challengin' me? Let's see then, shall we?"
He made quick work of the zipper on your pants before pulling it down and throwing it off to God knows where. His eyes opened slightly, zeroing on the damp patch on your panties. Of course, he was right.
"Would ya look at that—yer pussy's all soaked from that. How naughty."
"I... I... um..."
He huffed. "Ya what?"
Slap. He had slapped your pussy. The stinging sensation had you arching your back off of the cold metallic surface of the bench. A soft groan fell from your lips.
He landed another slap. "Look at how wet ya are right now. Ya shouldn't have lied huh?"
As if to soothe you again, he began rubbing his thumb over your poor cunt. "Didn't mean ta make her cry."
Hoshina smirked at his own joke—because who else would appreciate it? Definitely not you; you were too fucked out to even catch everything that he's saying.
He hooked a finger in the gusset before pulling your panties out of the way. The sight of your dripping cunt made his dick twitch. He had already been especially frustrated this week and the cute little subordinate he trained every night wasn't helping. Her little stunt was essentially the final nail in the coffin.
There was nothing else he wanted more but to fuck you senseless already. But he was a refined man; he had patience.
Hoshina pushed in two digits at first and it almost made him shudder with how tight and warm you were. Patience be damned; he was crumbling all too quickly for his liking.
"Fuck... yer suckin' it in."
A string of soft moans left you. It was music to his ears and he wanted it to be louder.
He began fucking his fingers into you at a faster pace. The muscles of his arm tensed and the veins on his forearm were popping out. A loud and vulgar moan reverberated through the training room. You could only hope that everyone in the base was asleep because there was no way you could be quiet with what he's doing to you.
You tightened around his fingers before unravelling completely. Your pussy fluttered, cumming on to his fingers shamelessly. It almost felt like a task to him—only getting it out of the way to get to the main event.
Hoshina pulled out his fingers, sucking them clean. He would have loved to get a taste of it on his tongue, but all restraint had been lost. He had to sheath himself in you or else he'd actually lose it.
"Take a deep breath for me, a'ight?" he says while unzipping his pants, only barely pulling out his leaking cock from its confines.
Maybe you should have listened because the sudden intrusion of his cock knocked the air out of your lungs. It filled you up nicely, hitting every spot with just one fluid motion.
He groans, throwing his head back in ecstasy. His fingers were practically white with how hard he gripped the bench supporting the both of you.
"Coulda fought me with this instead. Maybe ya coulda won," he teased. He began slowly fucking into you, perhaps a reprieve after his previous actions.
Your hands held on to his back, softly digging your nails into the chiseled flesh. A satisfied groan poured from his smiling lips.
The string of moans coming from you urged him to go faster. He had enough of being slow and soft. He snapped his hips at a maddening pace almost immediately. Your leg fell of the bench, hanging off and allowing him deeper access into you.
He never faltered for a second—even as he leaned down to leave marks on your neck again. You held him closer to you as if you never wanted him to leave... and he wasn't; at least, not until you've cum all over his cock.
His ragged breaths filled your ear as he continued to rut into you. Hoshina was tough, ruthless, and precise—much like on the battlefield.
A familiar clench squeezed his dick. "Ya close? Ya gonna cum on my cock? C'mon, do it," he goaded.
His thumb began circling your swollen clit. After holding on to the cold bench for a while, his touch felt freezing. The warmth you felt inside contrasted with the cold touch of his thumb. The sensation was almost numbing with how good it felt.
"Wanna cum with me? How romantic of ya," he teased again. "Fuck... I'm cummin' —take it all. This is still part of yer punishment. Got that?"
You responded with a breathless moan. That was all it took before hot ropes of cum filled you. The warmth seemed to push you over the edge as well, milking him for all he's worth. And like he said—it would be romantic. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"Ya learned yer lesson yet?" he asked, but not before capturing your wet lips in a kiss.
Hoshina let a shaky breath out as he pulled away. He knew it would be good, but he wasn't expecting for it to be this good.
"Shit... was only plannin' one round. Guess it wouldn't hurt ta discipline ya more."
He lazily rubbed his still hard cock. "C'mon, get on all fours fer me and I might not make ya run laps in morning's training." He watched intently as you followed, lining up his dick against your entrance. It was going to be a long night.
"Good fuckin' girl."
©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms
╰ author's note slightly longer I guess because I like Hoshina more lol
#kaiju no. 8#kaiju no. 8 smut#kaiju no. 8 x reader#Hoshina x reader#Hoshina Soshiro#hoshina smut#hoshina soshiro smut#kn8#kn8 x reader#kn8 smut#kinktober#kinktober 2024#mksu.works#mksu.ktober 24
474 notes
·
View notes
Text
004 | WAS IT REAL?
tags: trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, ANGST, mind games, fluff (kinda), they’re both in love with each other but sukuna is stubborn, still don’t know what else to add
w.c: about 2k (sorry its lowkey short)
a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR SUPPORTING MEEE IM SO THANKFULLLL 🫶🏽🫶🏽 just finished my assignments so I had to post this (sorry it’s late)🙂↕️
+ likes and reblogs are appreciated !!
the room is filled with a suffocating silence as you lie propped against the intricately carved headboard, your legs sprawled across the bed. toji is between your thighs, hiding your lower body from sukuna’s intense gaze as he stands in the doorway. your body is on fire, not just from sukuna’s sudden appearance but from the intense orgasm you itching to release but now cruelly interrupted.
sukuna’s patience seems to be wearing thin. each beat of your heart echoes in the quiet room, a reminder that today might be the end for both you and toji. after a long pause, toji decided to pay attention to sukuna as he huffs at the fact he had to cut his time short with you. he couldn’t eat you out without you pleading another man’s name. toji rises from between your thighs, his expression a mix of defiance and amusement as he kneels, leaving you breathless and wide-eyed.
does he really want to have sex in front of sukuna? has he lost his mind?
toji’s chuckle is almost as unsettling as sukuna’s silence. he begins to undress, his black haori slipping off his shoulders to reveal a finely sculpted torso, gleaming under the dim light. the sweat on his muscles makes his physique even more enticing.
“calm y’erself,” toji coos, draping his haori over you as a shield against sukuna’s piercing gaze. “we wouldn’t want our fearsome king to see what’s mine, would we?”
sukuna still remains eerily quiet, his stillness more frightening than any of his previous outbursts. your heart swells at toji’s protective gesture, though the dread of sukuna’s silence weighs heavily on you. you and toji now lie side by side, leaning against the headboard, facing the imposing figure of sukuna.
“if you wanted to join us, ryo, you could’ve just asked,” toji teases, his tone light but laced with mockery. sukuna crosses all four of his arms, his biceps straining against his custom made kimono. his face remains a mask of indifference, amplifying the fear that his silence breeds.
the room falls back into an oppressive quiet, broken only by your rapid, uneven breathing. sukuna’s calm demeanour is far scarier than any display of anger could be. you long for him to shout or act out—absolutely anything but his silence.
then, unexpectedly, sukuna bursts into… laughter? the sound is a dark, guttural roar that shatters the silence, his mirthless humour echoing through the room. you exchange confused glances with toji, both of you bewildered by this bizarre reaction. sukuna’s laughter continues as he clutches the wooden frame of the bed for support, hysterically laughing as your heart beats faster.
his four arms clapping in a mocking applause. his cruel amusement makes you feel small, as if you’re the butt of a cruel joke that’s neither funny nor forgivable.
“ah, you truly are naive; it’s fascinating,” sukuna purrs, his voice dripping with venom as he approaches you. the unsettling praise only deepens your confusion. as you try to seek solace from toji, sukuna’s grip on your chin forces you to meet his gaze. he crouches to your level, his four red glowing eyes boring into yours as he lightly pets your head, playing with your hair in a disturbingly tender way.
“k-kuna, i’m sorry,” you stammer, your voice trembling with fear. the way he addresses you, with an almost soft expression, sends shivers down your spine. “how can a single mortal be so weak and foolish that i find myself feeling sorry for you?” he says, his words cutting deep. tears start to form, blurring your vision.
as you struggle to process his words, you realize the room’s silence grew louder. you glance to the space beside you and find that toji has vanished. panic surges through you, your breath quickening as sukuna’s dark chuckle echoes with your growing horror.
wait.
in that moment it feels as though you’ve plunged into the abyss, your entire being sinking deeper and deeper, your soul being wrenched away by an unseen force.
you open your eyes, gasping for air, and look around. the dinner?
confusion grips you as you see everyone absorbed in their meals, lost in conversation. you glance at your hands, pinching yourself and wincing at the sting, painfully aware that this is no dream.
was i daydreaming about toji?
did sukuna ever speak to me in his room?
your mind spins, unable to distinguish between dream and reality. you look up from where you were standing, behind toji, and meet sukuna’s gaze. his smirk is predatory, and you feel as if you’re being consumed by a dark, suffocating force.
there’s no way.
no.
sukuna’s smile stretches wider as he nods, a knowing, almost sadistic gleam in his eyes. your blood runs cold.
he’s the mastermind. he planted every disturbing thought in your head—the moments with toji, the intimate scenes, the claims of possession—all illusions, all his cruel manipulation.
he wanted to break you, to see how easily he could worm his way into your psyche, how far he could push you before you shattered, and he’s just getting started. his amusement at your torment was his twisted pleasure during dinner, with no one else to entertain him. not even yorozu, seated beside him, could distract him. but watching you, standing behind toji, your gaze almost eye fucking toji was all it took for sukuna to unleash his dark games.
you feel the heat rising in your body, and the clothes you’re wearing suddenly feel stifling. overwhelmed by embarrassment, you storm out of the dining hall, desperately trying to steady your breath as you walk down the hallway.
tears well up in your eyes as you grapple with the realization that you’re nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game, his mind games manipulating you at will.
you truly are naive it’s fascinating,
his words echo in your mind, a haunting that drives you mad. as you turn a corner, you use your hands to dab at your eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. suddenly, you freeze when you spot sukuna standing right in the middle of the hallway, his presence making you jump.
“did you enjoy that dirty little fantasy?” he purrs, his tone dripping with amusement as he grips your arm, forcing you to listen to his taunting. “quite nasty of you to have those thoughts during dinner,” he teases, his face twisting into a mock-disgusted expression.
“are you in love with me?” you blurt out shakily, avoiding his gaze as you try to hold back your tears. sukuna looks taken aback by your blunt question, his eyes widening in surprise.
“how dare you ask me such a foolish question. have you bumped your head on the way here?” he retorts, his tone a mix of aggression and confusion. you wince slightly as he tightens his grip on your arm.
“you’re with yorozu, but you’ve got me on your mind. you’re afraid of love, so you’re content to love me from a distance,” you assert, watching as sukuna’s face goes from offended to intrigued. he loosens his grip on your arm, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“I see what this is about,” he says, stepping closer and backing you against the wall, his enormous frame towering over you. the sheer height and intensity of his presence are overwhelming, and as he presses you against the wall as one of his large hand grips your jaw, you can barely breathe.
“you’re jealous that I’m with her and not you, aren’t you? do you wish you were in her place?”
“you’re avoiding my question—you plant these thoughts in my head so I can never be with anyone else but you,” you accuse, noticing the twitch of one of his lower eyes as both your breathings become shallow. sukuna’s face inches closer to yours, his intense eye contact and touch almost making you whimper. his lips are so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your face.
you tentatively reach up, running your fingers through his soft, pink hair. as you do, sukuna’s eyes flutter closed, a deep purr escaping his lips. he leans into your touch, his face drawing ever closer to yours, almost as if he’s going to kiss you. the sensation of his hair beneath your fingers and the closeness of his face send shivers through you, and for a moment, you realize that the king of curses is wrapped around your finger, caught in a vulnerable moment of your doing.
but then, sukuna snaps back to reality. his red eyes narrow with fury as he realizes how close he came to fully surrendering to your touch. his anger flares, and he pins both your hands above your head, slamming them against the wall with such force that you’re acutely aware of how tall and imposing he is.
“I could replace you with a snap of my fingers—you mean nothing to me,” he growls, his words slicing through you like a dagger.
“then do it,” you challenge, meeting his fiery eyes with your own defiant glare. sukuna’s eyes glint with a mix of surprise and admiration at your boldness.
“tsk, what happened to your timid behaviour?” he taunts, his grip on your arms tightening with each word. you remain silent, questioning your own sudden courage. sukuna’s grip begins to loosen as you drop your gaze in defeat, and with a frustrated storming off, he leaves you standing there, feeling both defeated.
⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *
night falls as you and the other servants finish cleaning up the dishes and sweeping the kitchen after the guests have left. having completed your duties, you inform everyone you’re done for the day, and they bid you goodnight. as you walk down the familiar hallway, you glance up to see one of the balcony doors upstairs standing wide open. concerned that one of the servants or maids might have left it open, you quickly take a detour in the direction of the servant quarters and towards the staircase.
when you reach the balcony doors, you peek through and see a tall figure standing outside, enjoying the cool breeze and gazing up at the stars.
“toj’?” you call out, and he turns to look at you, a hint of confusion crossing his face at the nickname you’ve used.
“did you call me toj’ because the thoughts he placed in your head” he asks with a smirk, clearly having overheard your earlier conversation with sukuna. realizing that you and toji had never interacted before, you stammer an apology. he chuckles, reassuring you that it’s okay.
“how much did you hear?” you ask, closing the balcony doors behind you to give you both some privacy as you step further onto the balcony.
“everything.”
oh.
“well—”
“do you love him?” he asks bluntly, his gaze still on the stars as the question hangs between you. his sudden honesty makes you pause, staring at the night sky with him, the moonlight casting a serene glow over the garden below.
“w-when i first met him, i did. he even wanted me for himself,” you admit, watching as toji nods. “but now he tortures me—playing mind games and flaunting that other woman.”
a silence falls between you as you both take in the peaceful night. the stars twinkle brightly, and the moon hangs low, its light reflecting softly off the surrounding trees. you and toji stand there for a while, breathing in the fresh air, letting the moment stretch out, a quiet respite from the chaos of your thoughts.
“i’ve heard enough—how about you serve me and my clan?” toji finally says, breaking the silence. his bluntness catches you off guard, and you turn to him, wide-eyed.
“do you really think he’d let me leave to serve another clan—”
“when my stay is over, come with me. we’ll take you in as part of our family and treat you properly,” he offers, and the idea sounds tempting. you fidget with your fingers, considering his proposal.
“but if you prefer to stay in this hellhole, that’s up to you—”
“i’ll come with you,” you say decisively. toji’s smile widens, his scar stretching as he looks at you approvingly.
“don’t worry y’er pretty head about how you’re getting with me, I already know a plan.”
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen angst#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna angst#sukuna fluff#jjk fluff#jjk angst
762 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Can Fight (18+)
Simon Riley x Reader
Tags: Smut, boyfriend!simon riley, possessive!simon riley, 141!reader, kinda dark!simon riley, established relationship
Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, slightly controlling behaviour, it’s kinda toxic but like also not, military stuff??, clubbing, drinking, violence, choking, slight impact play, SHAMELESS SMUT
Notes: the side eye he’s giving in this photo is diabolical 😮💨
There was something about watching you dancing around in the tight red dress Simon bought you that satisfied the primal, caveman part of his mind. Going to the club after a long mission had begun to become a routine for the squad, and Simon never had a reason to attend before.
Not until you.
He salivated as he sat at the bar, his eyes constantly trained on your figure as you moved and grinded against any random person near you. Every hand that someone laid on your hip made his jaw tick and his cock bulge in his jeans. It was a little game you liked to play with each other. Simon still remembered the first time you were in his bedroom standing in front of his mirror, two dresses in your hand.
“I don’t know, the blue one kinda shows my ass.” You hesitated. “Wear wha’ever the fuck you want, luv. I can fight. I’ll rip the cock off anyone who touches you.”
The initial protectiveness he felt quickly evolved into a feral need to keep you all to himself, and you were just as bad as him. It was hard to tell when the lines blurred, but soon you were going out of your way to make Simon jealous, and every night out ended with him beating the shit out of some random guy.
It was wrong. It was fucking sick, really. But, the look in Simon’s eye when he came back to loom over you and grab you by the throat made you want to let him fuck you right there in the club. And the sex you had when you got home was the hottest of your life.
And that’s how Simon found himself sitting on a barstool, his legs spread to accommodate the way his cock was straining against the fabric of his jeans. He could see your eyes darting to him as you rolled your ass back against a scrawny looking guy. He could see the way you ran a hand down the front of your body just to tease him. He’d let you have your fun for a while. Then he’d come over and punch the lights out of the fucker who was touching you.
God, you were such a pretty thing.The little red dress you were wearing was tight enough to be a second skin. The collar dipped down to reveal a frankly whorish about of cleavage, but he didn’t mind.
You were his good little slut.
But he’d had enough now. A low grumble went through his chest as his pushed himself off the bar, following you as you led the guy out of the club and to the alley behind it. Just like you’d discussed. He stood in the shadows, palming himself through his jeans as the man started to try and press himself into you. Simon cupped his cock, liking the burn of the fabric he got when he rutted into his hand.
But then the fucker tried to kiss you and he saw red.
Your little game was suddenly over, and Simon was ripping the guy off you with a snarl. Heat flooded into your pussy, and you were clenching your legs together as you leaned against the wall and waited for him to finish. The man’s desperate pleas slowly turned into panicked gurgling noises, he went limp on the pavement. Simon gave him one last shake and then he was coming over to you.
“Look at you. So fuckin’ pretty f’me.” He shuddered, running his nose from the dip of your chest to your jaw. “You like dressin’ up f’me, luv?”
Simon drew a breathy moan from your lips as he slid his fingers under the hem of your dress. “Like watchin’ me break who ever touches you?”
Your back hit the sheets, the scent of Simon engulfing you with a dizzying intensity. His hands tugged at the fabric of your dress, pulling the fabric apart so it ripped by the seams. Suddenly, your red dress was on the floor, the only sounds in the room were your whispered pleas and Simon’s grunts as he fumbled to pull his cock free of his jeans.
Running a thick finger through your folds, he collected the wetness and forced it into your mouth. “Just couldn’t keep y’self together in the car, huh?” Shaking your head dumbly, you sucked idly on his digit while he began to stroke himself. “Si, please give me your cock.” You moaned, the words muffled when he suddenly shoved another finger down your throat, the intrusion making you gag.
“Gonna be a good girl f’me. Gonna take my cock so well.”
You were such a pretty thing, already needy and messy from how he’d teased you in the car. It was impossible for Simon to stop himself from just shoving his cock inside you all at once. The thickness of him split you open, a hoarse cry ripping through your throat as you clutched at his shoulders. God, you were such a needy little girl.
Simon drew his hips back, lazily pounding his cock inside you again and again. “Tha’s it. Take me so well.” The tip of him brushed against your cervix and he silenced your mewling with a slap to the thigh. Rough and calloused fingers gripped the flesh, tugging your legs up so that they were over his shoulder. “Gonna pound this sweet lil’ cunt.” A darker and more twisted part of him relished in the way you begged for him to slow down.
“Fuckin’ scream f’me.” He growled in your ear, threading a hand through your hair so he could angle your neck to the side. The delicious burn of his teeth sinking into your skin had you clenching around him. “Oh f-fuck, luvie.” He gasped, his hips stuttering before he was slamming his cock inside you relentlessly.
“You’re mine.”
“Mine t’fuck. Mine t’love.” One hand reached between you, rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit. White-hot pleasure sent you jolting underneath him, squirming around and trying to get the overwhelming bliss to stop. “Stay fuckin’ still.” Simon growled, his hand wrapping around your throat.
Simon watched you go all dumb on his cock, your eyes rolling back in your head as you clawed at his hand. He only tightened his grip further, his cock so hard he felt like he might explode. The way you were tightening around him, the way your lips parted, every little sound you made sent him spiralling.
The sound of skin hitting skin filled your shared bedroom, Simon’s balls slapped against your ass with every thrust. “No one’s ever gonna touch you.” He rasped, his own movements getting sloppy.
“Gonna cum real hard f’me?” The only response you could give was frantic nodding and little squeaks with the way he was constricting your airflow. “Gonna- oh, fuck. Gonna make me proud?” Everything felt amplified, and Simon felt drunk, dizzy off the haze of your perfume. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, sucking greedily against your pulse point. “Give me tha’ pretty pussy.”
You could hear every tortured noise he made in your ear, and Simon could feel the way your cunt was fluttering around him. “C’mon, dovie, make me- christ, make me cum inside you.” Your nails raked down his back, leaving trails of desire in their wake. You couldn’t breathe, you could barely see, all that existed was Simon. And then he pinched at your clit and you were falling.
“Oh, atta’ girl.” He groaned. “Good girl, good girl.. gonna make me-” Hot, thick ropes of cum spilled inside you. Simon’s eyes rolled back into his head and he bit down on your neck, letting out a deep, raspy moan. Before you could catch your breath, two large hands wrapped around your waist, flipping you over on the bed. You head was pushed down into the pillow, Simon gripping at the flesh of your hip to tug your ass up into the air.
“You don’t think m’done with you yet, d’you, dove?”
#simon ghost x reader#simon smut#simon riley#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x female reader#simon riley x f!reader#simon ghost x you#ghost x f!reader#ghost x female reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost smut
480 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just imagining what it would be like for you and Eddie to both drunk and looking for each other. You don't realize you've been talking to one another the whole time.
Steve's party had been going on now practically all night. You and Eddie arrived hours ago, and now you can't seem to find each other. He went off with his friends, and so did you. You mingled and stayed close together when you first got there. But soon, you unintentionally drifted away the drunker you got.
Your face was tingling, and your head felt so heavy. Your whole body just wasn't corporating. Your limbs felt like they were in a constant battle to keep you standing or even walking straight. You kept calling out for Eddie.
You wanted to go home but knew he wasn't driving. Not in the condition he was probably in. He got drunk way before you did. You saw him throwing back shot after shot. Then chasing it down with his favorite beer, a pbr. The thought of the taste is already making you gag. He was a lightweight no matter how much he tried arguing against it.
You were stumbling and kept calling for your boyfriend. "Eddie!"
You even grabbed some random dude just because he had longish hair. He was definitely not your Eddie. You made a face of diagust and mumbled "ew" under your breath when the guy turned around.
The party kept getting louder the drunker you became. Everyone kinda started looking a like. Your vision was nothing but a blur. You even confused Nancy for Steve at one point. All because she had on his jacket.
The funny thing is that she never even bothered to correct you. If it wasn't for Robin speaking up to tell you, it was actually Nancy you were talking to. You would still be calling her Steve the rest of the time.
The killer hangover you're destined to have in the morning made you wish you never started drinking tonight. Too late. You knew you were screwed by the fifth shot of tequila. You and Eddie were going to be in misery.
You stumble again and flop down on the couch next to someone. A man who you really can't even focus on any distinctive features. He's just there slumped back with his legs spread open holding a candle that he assumed was his beer can.
You may be drunk off your ass but not drunk enough to mistake a candle for a can of beer. You look over, and he's nothing but a blurry figure to you. You blink and blink, trying to figure out who he is. Your drunkened mind comes up with nothing. He is another stranger to you. Little did you know that's actually your boyfriend. Who you have been on the hunt for all night long.
You heard him mumbling something in coherent over and over again.
"What you say?" You slurred.
He burped before repeating. "I said you have seen my girlfriend? She's cute. You can't miss her."
"Oh no havent seen her...m'lookin for my boyfriend actually. He's a nerd you can't miss'em" you giggled and sat up a little.
"Haven't seen any nerds around." Eddie quipped and went to take a drink from the candle.
He made a face when nothing went into his mouth. He still has yet to notice his actual beer is on the table.
"Been lookin' for her all night. I even cried at the beer keg." He sounded like he was about to cry again. "Guys out there forced me to come sit down to calm myself."
You put your hand on his shoulder to comfort him. He sounded so sad you couldn't help but feel bad for him. "She's around here somewhere."
"My boyfriend is missing too, startin' to think he's in a bush passed out." You rubbed your eyes and laid back against the couch.
Eddie snorts and goes in his pocket to grab his pack of cigarettes.
"All I know is when I find that little shit I can pass out in peace." He slurred and practically ripped open his pack of cigarettes to get one out.
"Yeah, me too-- When I find my boyfriend, I'm passing out too." You hiccuped, and your eyes slowly got heavier. The party started to die down a lot. People were falling asleep or walking home.
"When you'd get here?" Eddie turned to face you. "Been lookin' for you all night!"
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson concept#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x blurb
622 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’m kind of craving some angst, but what would Vio say that would actually be really hurtful and wrong but he wouldn’t realize or care about?
I want to give him the silent treatment for being a little shit
nonnie after my own heart😌💕 i absolutely love writing angst so this got long haha😩💔 though he tries his hardest to be nice to his darling, vio doesn't really have much of a filter so i feel as though there is a lot of oppurtunity for him to hurt their feelings if he isnt careful🤧 i kinda ended up writing more of an aftermath but i imagine he'd say smth along the lines of 'who could ever love someone like you?' at a time where he knows you'd be overwhelmed by the comment and it would ruin your mood. in all honesty tho, vio can shut the fuck up bc ofc you're lovable🥰
The scent of the ocean had never been so unwelcoming to you. Salt tinged on cold air, lapping waves coloured murky green under thin moonlight. The seafoam kissed your fingers, and everything reminded you of him.
Vio was an egotistical bastard, you knew that better than anyone else, you dealt with him every day — had been for all these months. You were sure you had him figured out, everything he was beyond his piercing eyes and snide remarks. It was why you were so frustrated right now, because really, you knew this was who he was, and it shouldn’t have hurt you as much as it did.
Still, who was he to say no one could love you?
You weren’t that bad. It had taken you so long to have the confidence to believe that, something you used to tell yourself emptily time and time again, until you finally managed to accept it. Yet, in just a few words and within seconds, Vio had ruined all your hard work.
Throwing stones at your glass house, everything was falling apart whilst you sat in the middle watching.
This sombre night that stretched out before you blurred, and you were back to wiping at your face. Cursing again at the incessant sting of tears, wondering why the feeling hadn’t numbed by now. Fingers shaking, knees huddled to your chest, feeling so stupid, all alone. No matter how hard you tried to block it out, it was like those eyes were still on you. Narrowed greens, judging.
Perhaps it was just petty jealousy — Vio himself had said he hated it when you were happy without him, but that didn’t make it any better. Since you’d known him, it was like he had become your whole world and you didn’t have any choice in the matter. He was in your head against your will; the make or break of your career, the give and take of your time, the push and pull of your emotions. You couldn’t escape him. It was driving you insane.
If you didn’t talk to him, if you didn’t even look at him, would it make a difference? Vio was magnetic, he could get the attention you refused to give from anyone else if he really wanted to. You, on the other hand, had no one but him. Skin cold from the unforgiving winds, it was blatant, but you didn't want to acknowledge it.
You’d been sitting on the shore since evening. No one had come to look for you once.
#lovenotesfromdar#Dar’s VIO#yandere x reader#x reader#gn reader#yandere oc#oc#my ocs#reader insert#male yandere#male oc#yan x reader#yandere#yandere male#yandere boy#yandere headcanons#gender neutral reader#yandere oc x reader#yandere fluff#yandere x darling#yandere bf#yandere imagines#yandere original character#yandere thoughts#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#dom gn reader#dom reader#sub yandere#angst
149 notes
·
View notes
Note
Yan!dazai mindbreaking angel!reader ooo
ⵌ WATCH HER BREAK JUST LIKE A DOLL
SENDER Angel!Reader (Fem) RECIPITENT Yandere!Dazai (BSD) CONTENTS NSFW DARK CONTENT 16+ , obsession/possession, drugging, mind-breaking, reader is a hostage?, unhealthy relationship, dubcon/nc??, abuse (physical implied + mental), slight somnophilia, lowkey angsty, dazai is an asshole!, smut part isn't really detailed (WARNING; This relationship is unhealthy and should not be used as an example. Reader here does not hold Dazai accountable. If you are in an abusive relationship, please seek help from someone you trust or a professional! This fanfic does not idolise nor condone abuse within relationships) NOTE All these years of feeling inadequate and dumb. You were proud to have grown accustomed to Dazai's routine, even if he had promised you months ago he had changed. COMPANY Dolly
A/N combined 2 asks I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE ASK BUT IT WAS A YANDERE DAZAI NSFW IDEA im so sorryy ... also any other yan dazai req ! !! srry for the long wait ;; !! reader is an angel !! she was kind of created ,,? kinda like sigma !! the og req had an idea abt aphrodisiacs but ... not sure if i want to write about them just yet :( so sorry!!
Dutiful and pristine, you were a model wife.
Delicate and gorgeous. Just how he liked you to be.
You were brought her to serve as his prize. His reward for years of watching you from afar, stalking you like a lions meal. And you, pure and kind-hearted, not once ever suspected a thing.
Dazai was your co-worker after all. A smart, handsome man with a positive future.
Back before this all, you were nothing but a mere fascination to not only him, but your peers as well. You were never offended or hesitant to answer questions others would have about you. How you came to be, whether you remember anything, and if those feathers of yours regrow.
You coped with everything by dissociating as much as possible. If you could believe hard enough - Dazai was still the Dazai you knew before. The man next to you who'd pout when ordered to finish his report, the one who would turn to you and try to flirt or make you giggle, knowing Kunikida would never dare give out to you.
How could anyone, after all? You only manifested a few years ago. What was it, eleven, or twelve. You can't remember. There was little you remember anyway.
The first few months with Dazai were a blur. You'd have blacked out for the majority of the day until he'd wake you up and force you to eat. If you'd refuse, he'd starve you until you'd beg.
You had tried to protest by going days without food or water but he always got his way in the end. You had to give in at some point.
The biggest obstacle was finding the guts to hate Dazai.
You were afraid to hate him. You were afraid to hate.
He'd treat you so gently and with love. Funnily enough, you blamed yourself for it all. You didn't know why or how, but you felt like if you had done things different, none of this would have happened.
Osamu was sweet. He always did what was right. You respected Kunikida and Fukuzawa immensely. If they trust Dazai, then so did you.
If you knew that you were a lamb handed to a wolf, maybe you would have ran much earlier.
Dazai did not show himself upfront. No. First, it was the mind games. The ghastly figures that would appear outside of your window in the form of blackened shadows, doors you remember closing being wide open when you return home, bangs and creaks around your home when you lived alone, your items disappearing from their usual spot, laundry vanishing completely, and countless mysterious messages from anonymous.
Second, it was you asking for help. You turned to who you admired best. The Armed Detective Agency. Ranpo scanned your phone. He read each message out loud before looking at you, then back down at your screen. He slid it back towards you. " There's nothing suspicious. It's just a prank. "
You felt relief. Ranpo had his ability, after all. The ability to figure out any mystery. He could not be wrong.
How dumb of you to think Ranpo would not be the first person Dazai would go to for his sick joke.
Third was the fever. It hit you like a brick. It was the first time you had been infected with a human illness. Dazai kindly offered to tend to you in his free-time, as everyone else was too busy. You were grateful that Dazai, an important member of the ADA, was sacrificing his time in helping you. He'd stop by almost every day and night to feed you and make sure you're alright. The more you drank that chalky water he'd give you daily before bed, the more you lost your ability to walk.
Fourth, was the inevitable. You waking up in a bed that was harder than yours. Upon observing around you, you realised you weren't in your house. And you don't recall ever sleeping next to Dazai. Naturally, you were afraid. You were in hysterics while he tried to calm you down, telling you stories on how it's safer for you to be here, and that you were an ungrateful bitch for not being grateful enough to him.
You didn't want to hear any of it. So? You were kept in his lovely basement.
There, you were badly treated. Sleeping on cold concrete and eating what scraps he'd leave on the floor for you like some animal - any form of resistance was met with harsh punishment.
You lacked survival instincts. You not once ever felt the need to. Working in the ADA, you were nothing but an accountant. You'd hear about the missions they'd go on, but to you it all seemed like the things you'd see in action films.
But this was real. The way your heart pounded in your ears every time you'd hear steps coming down and the way he'd tug your hair 'till your scalp would burn is something that the actors would never be able to portray properly.
It took you a while to realise you weren't going to make any progress by doing the opposite of what he wanted.
Though, you were admittedly conflicted.
You provided Dazai something interesting. If you let him use you, to spare yourself of his harsh punishments, would he get bored of you? Would he rid of you completely? Would he treat you more terribly to purposely make you act out just so he'd have a reason to strike you?
These were questions that would keep you up.
You couldn't be strong-willed for long. Hope that Kunikida or anyone else would come looking for you dwindled as the days went by and none would come but Dazai.
At some point, you had lost your voice for a while. In that period, Dazai took complete advantage of the fact. When you could do nothing but thrash and cry until you submit underneath him.
He'd pull out, collapse next to you and hold you close to his bandaged chest and apologise until he fell asleep with your hot breath against his skin.
Dazai had been your first time. He took an angel's virginity. You were frozen for the rest of the night. You were almost neutral to what had happened. You even wiped his tears away with your thumb. He apologised. He must surely be remorseful. He promised he wouldn't do it again.
You lost your halo that day.
'' Fetch me some water, I'm thirsty. "
His hand came off your head where it had been caressing.
You looked up at him through long lashes, slowly nodding your head and raising to unstable feet.
Ever since you were allowed to stay out of the basement, he's been helping you regain your ability to walk after the drugs had left your knees shaky.
Your movement was slow but gradual, at least.
If you wished to remain with Dazai, you'd have to obey him. And obey you did.
You fetched him his requested glass of water albeit spilling a tad bit on your way back, you presented him with it.
He peered in, then slouched back into the couch, gaze returning to the television screen. " I said orange juice. "
You were sure he said water.
" But you said water. " Your voice was meek compared to his.
" Are you saying I am lying? "
That shut you up.
You apologised, and travelled back to the kitchen to throw away the water and replace it with orange juice.
You'd bring it back, and he'd look at you with disappointment. " Why are you bringing me orange juice when I asked for apple juice? "
He sounded so convincing that you thought maybe you were mishearing. You held the orange juice in your hand tightly, apologised, and left to get the apple juice.
By the time you returned, you were shaking. The apple juice was dripping from the overfilled glass and onto the floor. You were trembling. " It's- It's apple juice. Because y-ou said.. "
Your gaze was so distant. You were so far away. You were no longer on this Earth. Dazai had to keep you grounded.
" You must be taking me for a fucking idiot. "
He slapped the glass right from your hand, your whole body jolted in shock when the glass shattered against the floor.
You two had just been cuddling on the couch, watching a noir movie like a happy couple would.
Dazai had to keep you grounded. He had to keep you on a leash lest you wander.
" Get over here. " He sighed out after a long pause. Instinctively, you answered, " No. "
It's been so long since you were punished. You didn't want to go back to them.
" I didn't do anything wrong ", your voice croaked out to reason. You should have figured at some point Dazai would get bored of a normal life style.
" I said get over here, Y/N, my patience is already running low. I'm not going to hit you. "
And no matter what you've been through, you'd wake up praying Dazai was kinder. He had overheard your nightly prayers one day and in an act of irony or sympathy - hung a cross over your bed.
You fiddled with the hem of your skirt before waddling to between his spread thighs. Hand reaching for your hip and guiding you down to sit on his lap, you avoided eye contact.
You were clearly afraid of being punished for something that was not your fault. You couldn't tell Dazai it wasn't your fault. That would be calling Dazai a liar. And that would get you hit. Good wives don't get hit.
True to his word, he did not raise his hand to you at all.
Once he opened his mouth to speak, you attentively turned to him. His training worked wonders on you. He made himself your God in a matter of months. You no longer worried your pretty little head on whether Kunikida would save you. All you had to do was clean around the house and prepare Dazai's meal - living to serve your husband.
" You've been such a good girl, don't ruin it with this, 'kay? " He didn't sound mad anymore, but you could still pick up on the fact he was not exactly happy with you either.
" Yes, 'samu. " You nod, toying with your fingers nervously.
" You're such a sweet wife. So dumb. So cute. Love seeing you panic. "
You bit your bottom lip at that, chewing on skin.
'' D'ya think It's about time we started our own family? "
You thought at first you didn't hear him properly. You knew you were trying to convince yourself so.
" Ahah.. " You were hesitant. He picked up on it. His dark brown eyes felt like lasers. " I don't think I can. I'd love to, 'samu, but I can't. "
He let go of his soft grasp on your hip to allow you to stand up.
It was 9pm. You should head to bed.
His silence and poker face felt foreboding.
" Goodnight, love. " You tried to remain cheerful.
You went to bed earlier than Dazai. You climbed into your shared bed after having taken your nightly medication.
You fluffed out your wings - once white, now grey - then tossed and turned until you slept.
" Hah.. hah.. "
The burning heat is what hit you first.
Confusion was second.
" Wakin' up, pretty baby? "
Your mouth opened by itself before your eyes did, and when you tried to speak, to ask what is going on, you let out a soft moan.
You feel something sink in deeper in your pussy, the wooden bed frame hitting against a wall. Oh.
" 'Samu! " Your eyes shot open upon realising what was happening. Dazai had not done this for a while. The room was dark. Judging by how dry your mouth was, you had been fast asleep for a while.
Dazai was propped on his knees between your thighs, naked from what you could make out.
You looked further down to realise that he had shoved his dick in you while you were asleep. Your nightgown was pulled up over your stomach and his hands were holding on loosely to your hips.
Your hand reached out to grip onto his wrist, your legs unable to close. " No, you said you were gonna be better, you said no more of this. " Oh, you sweet poor child.
" It's alright. " He responded casually, pulling out just to slam back in. Although your vision was limited, you could feel his piercing stare studying your contorting features. " Just this once, yeah? "
You remembered your conversation with Dazai earlier. The sudden question about having a child.
When you tightened around the base of his shaft, he knew what you were thinking.
" Don't get all scared, baby. You'd make an amazing mom. " He would bend down, his mouth next to your ear as he'd begin thrusting.
You lay unresponsive and silent, staring at the ceiling - your only solace.
His huffs, groans and sighs muffle themselves on your pillow, your body would temporarily jolt in spasms with each orgasm.
Dazai continued for hours.
At some point, your hands were tangled in messy brown hair, your mouth hung and your voice would plead for 'more', 'there', 'deeper'.
Your sweet husband never pulled you back when you drifted off to space with your longing gaze.
He barely even met you in the eye.
Dazai finished his rounds before you noticed. It was a period of him not touching you that made you turn your head sideways to meet him laying next to you, his chest still raising and falling as he'd regain his breath.
You hadn't moved your body.
Adjusted to the dark, you couldn't help but stare at the pitiful man who spoke nothing to you.
An emptiness weighed your heart down and the liquid love he had planted in you seeped - unwelcomed.
You still felt bad for him. Surely, definitely, this was not his fault.
" I'd like a girl. "
Your lips trembled, you smiled to hide it.
" Two.. daughters. "
The corners of your lips quivered with your fake expression. He could see your eyes gloss and your shivering body, blinking rapidly until your tears slid down.
You never did want children. Not with Dazai, at least. Not for another few years. Not here, not now, not with him. Not this Dazai.
He left you waiting for a while, until he rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling that enamoured you with amazement when he had made love to you.
" Yeah. "
He sounded uncertain, before continuing his response. You had expected it. All these years of feeling inadequate and dumb. You were proud to have grown accustomed to Dazai's routine, even if he had promised you months ago he had changed.
" 'm sorry. "
" I know. "
©yawarakaizai 2023 ﹒﹒ reblogs appreciated! requests open :3
510 notes
·
View notes
Text
you know i fade to grey without you.
kazuha kaedehara x gn! reader, figure skating au.
a/n: soooo y/n is kinda a flop in this one, and the pacing is kinda all over the place. this was my first ever piece i wrote (despite being published after the scara one) so please excuse everything wrong!! thank you! part of complementary figures, 2/? read wanderer's here.
you used to be good at figure skating. now? not so much. your body was taller and your limbs less under your control. a car crash sealed the deal, and your legs never really felt like your's anymore.
junior world champion used to be a title you had, but now? top ten at sectionals was often out of reach, much less any big international podiums. you settle with entering yourself into those small challenger cups, and if you're lucky, manage to snag a medal or two.
at least you never gave up on it.
your coach says its a good thing - your tenacity and grit, but even you can tell her hugs has become more fleeting and more like pats on the back over the years, dismayed at yet another two-footed or unlanded jump. you see how the skaters in the later groups looked at you - or more like, not looked at you. you were way under their league, an insignificant number on the scoreboard, a grey spot at the bottom.
you know figure skating. the feeling of ice against blade, the gliding, the wind in your face, the way the world around you blurs as you spin and launch yourself into the air. even the drowsy, orange tinted memories of watching mao asada's triple axel on repeat in the car at 5am, and the biting ice of the bath you have to lower yourself into at 1 in the morning, replaying your mistakes on the small screen you grasp between your hands. four years ago, you've said you wouldn't have it any other way. but those were bygone days, and now you were barely scraping by.
kazuha kaedehara, on the other hand, is figure skating's golden boy.
you remember how the commentators yelled over the broadcast as the last notes of his free skate sounded, the way your own teammates launched themselves out of the white plastic chairs crowded around the small TV and erupted into cheers and whoops. you swore you saw your coach wipe away a tear. the energy was electric, and even you felt your fingers tingle and your feet itch as you focus on his figure, his costume bright red against the white of the ice.
"oh my goodness, what even was that skating? spectacular! impeccable, just impeccable. why, i say we'll be seeing an olympic gold medal around his neck in three years. yes! kazuha kaedehara from inazuma, what a wonderful showing! a pure figure skater, the consistency, the artistry, the technical mastery, the interpretation. my friends, this is a one in a lifetime talent!"
praises like this echoed throughout the figure skating world for the next two years, and you heard it first-hand every single time. for some reason, despite being ranked number one around the entire world, kazuha kaedehara finds it in his heart to bless the smaller competitions you were at and take away the medal of some poor kid who only wanted to get some international recognition.
you've seen him so many times that he says hi to you in the hallways now (even though he probably doesn't even know your name). flashes that sweet smile that's captured the hearts of thousands across the globe in your direction as he tilts his head. you always settled for a nod and a smile as well, before brushing past him. this time, you faintly hear him call after you, shouting good luck, and you simply wave back in acknowledgement.
boys come later, first, you gotta pull yourself together.
you've been skating for your entire life now, but the chill of stage fright still gets to you. the feeling of your throat closing up as the speakers boom your name, you hop, gliding in a circle as you approach your starting position. you breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth.
the first few notes of your music start, and for a moment you panic as your foot roots itself to the ice. but your body moves on its own, your arms flying into the air as you push off your blade. the feeling melts away into pure adrenaline as you make your first round across the ice rink. this is it, your most difficult jump, the one you've never landed properly since the crash. you've done this before - four years ago, you can do it again.
you stare at the spot of ice you'll take off from, faintly, you think to yourself of how kazuha kaedehara probably does the triple axel in his sleep, but the thought is quickly swept away as your body twists forward. there's no time. your leg rises and the dark blue seats, dotted with spectators, blur into lines. you're in the air, wind whipping in your ears.
you make contact with the ice, but lurch forward. fuck. you desperately try to save it by bending your knees, but no luck. you pitch forward and your face nearly hits the ice as your arms and hands brace for impact. a wave of disappointment washes over you as you pick yourself up. you can't even hear the music anymore, relying purely on muscle memory as you skate through your program.
you can see and hear it all already: the wince in the commentators voice as he comments on your incorrect entry or off-centre axis; that one fan that's been following you forever probably just fell to his knees; the newspapers that only the people from your hometown reads - "y/n l/n cannot deliver anymore"; your coach who turns away with a hand over her eyes; your mother trying to contain the sigh that ultimately escapes from her lips.
a wave of disappointment washes over you, but you've got two minutes of program left, and at this point you're just happy you finished alive and with no broken bones, even with two falls and a downgraded spin. as you bow, you see him, bright red against the blue seats of the audience, clapping.
he's insane.
"y/n l/n, i just don't understand," your coach murmurs, after the quick squeeze she gives you as you step out of the rink, out of breath, "you hit it all in practice, it is just - the nerves, my dear? what is it? are your knees hurting again? we'll work on it, okay?"
it's always the same questions, the same disappointed look before she collects herself at the kiss and cry and pats you on the arm, handing you the jacket you've had for years now. the little girl behind you hands you a grey and white cat plushie that she picked up from the rink, and you smile at her, holding up the plushie to the camera as a pang of bitterness settles in your gut.
you and your coach exchange tight smiles before the camera. your coach's eyes turn to squint at the screen that displays your score. you settle instead for playing with the ears of the cat, waiting to be defined by a few set of numbers again. you finally hear your name announced, but you don't even look up to the display, you can only nod with finality as the speakers blare out your score for the whole venue to hear - not enough to qualify to the free skate. it feels like a guilty statement as it hangs over you like a dark cloud.
your coach pats you on the back absentmindedly, before standing up to fuss over your teammate, the one who will probably make it into the free skate.
you wave at the camera before it, too, turns away from you in urgency as the next skater takes to the ice. you tune out the polite applause as you stand from the seat, feet tired and head heavy.
it's always like this. you, washed out against the colours of the arena.
as you turn the corner in the hallways, you see him again.
"i just saw you - in the stands. how - how did you get down here so fast?"
"you were standing there for a really long time, got me worried a bit, actually," he smiles apologetically, "sorry, was that weird?"
"no - i mean, thanks for worrying," you do what you always do, angling your body to brush past him, but his words stop you.
"i liked it - your program."
you raise an eyebrow at him, and when you turn around you're startled by his bright red eyes.
"but i fell, like, twice," you break eye contact, averting your eyes.
you can see his arms move as he shrugs, "things happen. but i liked it. i really like the way you skated. did you choreograph it yourself? i think i saw that listed in your profile."
your eyes snap up to meet his, and he has the same smile that he shows everyone - sincere and charming.
"you read my bio?"
he lets out a gentle laugh, "sorry, i don't mean to be weird. i just - always liked your programs. i was wondering who choreographed them, then i saw it was you. it clicked! only someone who knew the music in and out could skate like you."
"i don't think anyone would want to skate like me," you give him a bitter smile, squeezing the cat between your arms, "but thanks."
he shook his head, "i was there at the junior championships, in the audience - when you won gold? i always wanted to skate like you."
you frown, "you're world number one."
"and i'm a terrible choreographer," he supplies helpfully.
"i don't think i should be your golden standard," you move to leave.
"wait! what i mean is - your skating, it’s... colourful. i can't put it into words, it's ethereal, fascinating, human, it changes people," words spill from his mouth and kazuha's hands suddenly grasp your's, eyes wide and shining, "can you show me? how you do it?"
"wait, wait," you blink, and he pulls out of your space, his eyes apologetic, "my skating does not change lives."
"it changed mine," he says quietly, and you laugh.
"sure, i changed the life of olympic favourite kazuha kaedehara! why not."
"no, really," he sounds out of breath, "didn't i say? i saw you. i actually wanted to leave the sport then, i wasn’t making much progress, but you made me want to skate. now that i’m here… i've been entering these competitions so that you could see me. i wanted to catch your attention."
your head feels like it's going to burst. he even looks slightly frustrated at the thought that you might have never noticed him.
your mouth open and closes like a fish, until you finally settle with: "everything you just said was true?"
"everything," he affirms.
you avert your gaze, "fine. this is me taking notice, alright? one lesson, that's all you get, kaedehara."
"hold your hand out more, you look like a flamingo, not a swan," you bark at kazuha, who laughs as he sits on the floor of the ice. you skate towards him, holding out a hand, "and i can't believe you fell on a double toe loop."
"things happen," he shrugs, grasping your hand as you pull him up.
"you asked me for an olympic level program, so put in some effort."
he laughs again, bending down to brush his nose against your cheek, but you push him away, huffing.
"do it again, this time properly."
"do i get a good job kiss afterwards?"
"i'll think about it," you grumble.
one lesson blossomed into something else, and now you've found yourself the partner of figure skating's golden boy, after he unceremoniously asked you one morning as the two of you walked together into the rink.
you finally quit, but not after several conversations from kazuha lamenting the loss of art from the world, but you've become a choreographer, and every new season he cuddles up to you, asking if you can choreograph a piece to his new favourite piece of music. you’ve also realised that kazuha kaedehara does not land triple axels in his sleep, if the sleepy mumblings of "don't fall!" and "ah, blast, i fell." was any indication.
people call his skating ethereal, colourful, life-changing, and all he does is smile at the camera and say "it's because of y/n, they inspire me."
you watch as he picks up speed from the far end of the rink. you're going to be busy this season, helping the younger ones with their programs. so, the next time you see him, he's at the olympics. his costume bright red against the white of the ice.
he points at you when he finishes, panting and out of breath. he laughs as he sees you clap, your dream blazing alongside his own. right now, even at the top, no other person matters, you're the one who brought colour into his life, after all.
guys... if shit sucks, hit the bricks!!! real winners quit! please ♡ and ⟳ if you enjoyed thank youuuu please support your authors!
#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#kazuha x reader#kazuha kaedehara x reader#kazuha kaedehara#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact
101 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi! Can you write a Ben Shelton fic where you are like a tennis player and that's how yall meet? And it's kinda like a friends to lover type? Thanks!
a/n: i dont think he's into nba but yea, i hope you like it (:
You were what Ben wanted to be - feared by others and great at tennis. Bryan knew about his son’s admiration towards you so he was more than happy to break the news to him. Many stories were told about you. Some said you were unbeatable, others whispered about your intense focus and the cold, intimidating look you gave your opponents. Ben had seen you play a few times, and each time he was mesmerized by your precision and power.
Ben’s dad was talking to your coach when the three of you stood on one of the courts. Ben was furious for letting himself oversleep, he didn’t know how it happened, how could he show up late while meeting you for the first time. The truth is he wasn’t late, you were just early but it didn’t calm his mind. He saw you - listening to your coach, wearing a dark outfit - your fashion staple. Ben’s stomach tightened. He walked over, his heart pounding in sync with his footsteps.
“Oh! Ben, this is Y/N. Y/N, meet Ben,” your coach introduced with a warm smile. You turned to face Ben, your eyes meeting his with warmth that he didn’t expect. A genuine smile spread across your face as you extended a hand. “Hi, Ben. Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard great things”. He shook your hand and stood speechless, he looked like a starstruck teenager but quickly got back to reality. “Oh, uh, nice to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot about you as well”.
The news spread like wildfire. The combination of your skills and personalities created a buzz that was hard to ignore. As the tournament began, the two of you quickly proved to be amongst the best duos. Your synergy on court was captivating to watch. Small gestures - smirks, whispers and even touches between you two made your fans go feral. But you were just teammates, at that point even friends was still a bit of a big word.
Over the course of time, Ben became more and more comfortable. One of the advantages of playing together was the time spent with each other. As you two figured out your strengths, weaknesses and tactics on court, Ben also got to know you, the real you. Behind powerful moves, intimidating aura and urban legends stood one of the nicest people he had ever met.
After a particularly exhausting match, where both of you fought hard and won by a narrow margin, Ben suggested grabbing dinner. "There's this great Italian place nearby. Want to check it out?" he asked, hopeful. You nodded without a second thought. "Sure, why not”.
Dinner turned into a regular thing. Initially, the conversations revolved around tennis strategies and upcoming matches. But as the nights grew longer and the dinners more frequent, the topics started to change. You two started talking about your plans for the future, childhood memories, favorite films, and even guilty pleasures. You found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time, Ben's humor and genuine interest were key to getting closer to you.
You two spent all the time together - morning coffee runs, pre-match pep talks, and late-night strategy sessions. It wasn’t annoying, it was nice to have someone to keep you grounded. You always said that “it’s crucial to have a good relationship with your teammate” but deep down you knew that you just liked Ben a lot and wanted to spend as much time as possible with him.
"You know, I really value our relationship. It's been a long time since I've felt this close to someone.” he suddenly said while you were in your hotel room watching a movie as a way to relax after a match. "Me too, Ben. You've become really important to me” you said and wrapped yourself around his arm, snuggling closer.
Quickly, the lines between friends and something more began to blur. There were moments when a simple touch lingered a bit too long or a glance conveyed more than words ever could. Despite these subtle shifts, neither of you rushed to label what was happening. You both seemed to enjoy the slow, natural progression of your relationship.
It was a late summer night, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant hum of crickets. The tennis courts were deserted except for the two of you, the lights casting long shadows across the empty courts.
You and Ben had stayed late to squeeze in some extra practice, both of you determined to perfect your game for the upcoming tournament. After what seemed like hours of intense rallies and drills, you called for a break. You collapsed onto the court, laughing and gasping for air, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Ben quickly joined you, laying on the grass. "That was intense," Ben remarked between breaths, a grin spreading across his face. You chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. "Definitely. But I feel good about us”. Ben turned to look at you, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "You're incredible out there, you know that?" You felt a warm flush of pride at his words, but there was something more in his gaze - a depth of emotion that went beyond the game. It was a look that made your heart skip a beat as you quickly shifted your gaze to the stars above you.
"Yeah, well, you're not so bad yourself," you replied playfully, trying to lighten the mood. Ben felt a burst of confidence when suddenly he propped himself up on his hands, hovering over you with a mischievous look in his eyes. It was your time to feel like a stupid teenager.
“Yeah?” he said with a smirk. “Yea” you replied with a smile, silently letting him know you are comfortable. His close proximity sent a wave of electricity through you, the playful banter fading into an unspoken tension. His gaze softened and he leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against yours with a gentle, tender warmth. Time seemed to stand still as you responded, your hand instinctively reaching up to touch his cheek. "Sorry if that was too forward," Ben murmured when you finally broke the kiss, his voice slightly husky. You shook your head, feeling a surge of happiness. "No, it was perfect”.
Weeks passed, and your relationship deepened. Despite your growing affection, you decided to keep it private. It was easier to focus on tennis without the media circus that would inevitably follow.
You two started attending NBA games, it was a nice form of date and opportunity to relax without worrying too much. Taking your minds off tennis to watch something else did great for both of you. You were spotted a few times, sitting close, but to others you looked just like good friends.
It was a Friday night when you and Ben blended effortlessly in with the crowd. As the game progressed, you cheered and groaned, completely absorbed in the thrilling atmosphere. During a break, the large screens above the court suddenly switched to the infamous Kiss Cam segment. The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter as the camera panned to different pairs in the audience, capturing their reactions.
Then, the camera focused on you both. Ben grinned and leaned towards you, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "I think we're on. What do we do now?". Before he could react you grabbed him by his chin and planted a soft kiss on his lips. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause just before the camera found another couple.
As you pulled back, cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment, Ben flashed you a reassuring smile. It was a spontaneous and public declaration, that neither of you regretted.
July 11, 2024
#ben shelton x reader#ben shelton imagine#tennis fanfics#tennis imagine#tennis x reader#atp tennis x reader
117 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Everything?
“I only keep her around because she’s beneficial.” Jack chuckled and took a sip of his drink before placing it back down.
“Beneficial how?” Ace asked.
“I mean she cooks and cleans and when I’m craving you know what she’s always right there to give me some.” He chuckled and you heard the sound of hands smacking which meant he gave one the guys a high-five.
“That’s kinda messed up don’t you think? I mean come on Y/N really loves you and you’re out here just basically saying you’re keeping her around for your own needs, isn’t that a bit selfish?” Urban defended you which you were grateful for.
“If you put it that way I mean yeah it’s a bit selfish but I’m planning on breaking up with her before tour starts anyways.” Urban shook his head at Jack.
“What Urban? You can’t say shit.”
“I’m not even saying anything Jack.” Urban was disappointed in Jack. “She just isn’t fulfilling my needs anymore and I’m a guy with many, many needs.” He chuckled.
Unbeknownst to Jack and the guys you were standing outside the door after coming home from shopping with your friend Avery & Ace. It honestly wasn’t your intentions to stop what you were doing and ease drop on their conversation but when you heard your name being brought up you figured it was best to stop and listen right?
You swore you heart felt as if it was going to rip out of your chest any minute now especially as Jack kept talking about you and how he’d be on tour sleeping and seeing many other women that weren’t you.
To say you were feeling disappointed was an understatement. Your head spun as you tried your best to make your way out the front door. You mentally cursed yourself as your vision started to blur due to your tears and the lump that has now formed in your throat wasn’t helping either.
If Jack was planning on breaking up with you before he left for tour you figured you’d spare him the trouble and do it for him. When you finally managed to make it outside you took out your phone and texted him.
Jack 💘
- I overheard you talking to the guys. I’m sorry I couldn’t fulfill your needs within this relationship, I hope you’re able to find better.
Xo, Y/N
With that you went ahead and blocked and removed him from your messages and any other social media site you had him on. You weren’t sure what was going to happen now but you could only pray that better days were ahead.
————————————————————————
It’s been about 3 weeks since you last seen Jack and honestly it’s been the hardest 3 weeks ever even though he spoke wrongly of you, you still missed him and loved him. At times you wondered if he was thinking about you.
You went back home to Atlanta to bury yourself in work you needed to do something to distract your mind from Jack but all work and no play was draining. Which is why your friend Avery suggested you all go to the club later on that night.
“And you’re not wearing jeans you’re wearing something short like your ex said, I wanna see some ass.” You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes at Avery.
“I’m not going to a club Avery the only thing at a club is a bunch of desperate guys that just wanna get laid for the night and I’m not that desperate for a good time.” Ace snorted. “You might not be but I most definitely am.” He said.
“Look I just don’t think I’m ready to go out I’m still healing.” You expressed to them you knew they meant well but you felt like it was too soon. Ace frowned and came over to you and rested his hand on your shoulder.
“Y/N, look that man didn’t deserve you he never did and never will he said out his own mouth that he only kept you around because you were beneficial to him when needed, because I’m sure he isn’t sitting around moping for you.” Ace was very brutally honest at times but his speech is exactly what you needed to hear.
“You’re right.” You smiled and took the outfit Avery bought. “It’s time I get dressed up and remember who I am.” Ace and Avery high- fived one another.
“It’s about damn time now come on let’s get ready.” For the first time in awhile you were actually enjoying yourself and you weren’t thinking about Jack but Jack on the other hand was certainly thinking about you.
“I feel fucking horrible she hates me I know it.” Urban rolled his eyes. “Weren’t you the one that said you were going to break up with her anyways? So why are you even worried.” The sarcasm evident in his tone.
“Yeah I did but I didn’t mean it I just I don’t know I fucked up alright.” He ran his hands through his curls. “How about we just go to the club that opened up? I think it’s called Peaches & Creme.” Druski said.
“The last place I wanna be seen at is a club I just want my girl back.” Jack confessed, Urban couldn’t hold in his anger anymore he hated that Jack was actually upset over you leaving him.
“I don’t get it why are you upset? Are you upset because she’s no longer in your life? That she’s no longer available?” Jack was taken back by the anger in Urban’s tone.
“She was my everything Urban.” Urban scoffed. “Your everything?” He stood up. “She wasn’t your everything till she was no longer around and now that she’s gone suddenly she’s your everything?”
Druski stood between the two of them looking left to right while munching on some popcorn.
“Now this shit is interesting.” He said and Clay rolled his eyes before stepping in.
“Look let’s just drop it alright? I came back home for us to have a good time now let’s get ready for tonight.” Urban shook his head. “I’m not going but I hope you all have a good time.” Urban walked past Jack but not before bumping shoulders with him.
Jack sighed and starred at the spot that Urban was once in he knew Urban was right but he was going to prove him wrong, Jack was going to get you back tonight at the club, he seen on Avery’s story that she was going to the club tonight and he prayed that you’d be there as well.
————————————————————————
You were never really one for clubs so when you finally got inside the club you were a bit taken back by how many people managed to fit inside the club, outside it looked very large but in reality it was very, very small.
“Where are we sitting? I’m not standing here all day!” You yelled over the music meanwhile Ace was off with who knows who and Avery well her attention was drawn on some man.
“Uh I don’t know I didn’t really reserve a booth they wanted like 10k for a booth so I said fuck that I’ll just stand all day.” You groaned. “Are you kidding me? I’m supposed to be squished between a bunch of sweaty bodies all night?!?”
Avery raised her hands in defense. “Look just have fun and enjoy yourself now if you don’t mind ima go have a little chat with my friend over here.”
“You’re kidding me.” You watched as Avery made her way over towards her next victim leaving you alone in the middle of the floor. “I gotta get out of here.” You pushed past the sweaty bodies till you finally managed to make it to the bar.
“If you’re gonna sit here you need to order a drink.” The very much irritated bartender said. “What? How much is a drink.” He handed you a menu and your eyes widened at the prices. “$25 for a drink? You’re kidding?”
He looked at you with a straight face. “Well it’s July 1st not April 1st so I’m very much not kidding it’s either you order or get away from my bar.” You mumbled a few not so friendly words under your breath but still ordered a drink.
You sat at the bar watching as Ace flirted with a few men and watched Avery well ruin her chance with a man you smiled softly and shook your head at her as she shrugged her shoulders at you.
“You need to go mingle or something shit stop sitting up here pouting like a baby.” Druski told Jack. “You’re messing up my vibe I need to attract the ladies.”
“I just miss Y/N.” He whined. “Well you need to find a replacement.” Clay scanned the club and noticed a women at the bar. “Look you see her at the bar she’s alone which mean she probably doesn’t have a man now go mingle.” Clay pushed Jack over to the direction that you sat.
If flirting with some random women at the bar was going to help Jack get over you then so be it.
“Here alone?” You froze hearing that familiar Kentucky accent. “Jack?” He immediately froze.
“Y/N? What are you doing here.” He asked. “I’m here with Avery why are you here? Don’t you have a tour to get ready for.” You stated blankly. “Or another women to get ready for.” You mumbled.
“Look I’m so sorry Y/N I didn’t mean anything I said.” He tried apologizing. “Are you? Or do you only want me back because I can clean and cook for you and be available when it’s convenient for you.” You spat back at him.
Jack knew you weren’t going to forgive him easily but without you being around he realized just how much he missed you and loved you. He grabbed your face and forced you to look at him you made eye contact with him for the first time in awhile.
You forgot how memorizing his eyes were and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss his freckled nose.l
“Please baby I’m not asking you to take me back just yet but can you please forgive me so I can show you that I am sorry.”
What he said hurt you the other night but you did miss him and you were open to giving him another chance but this would be his only chance.
“Fine I forgive you and I’m willing to give you another chance but God so help me if you mess this up or I hear you talking about me I’m shredding your Pokémon cards.” You laughed while his eyes widened.
“Please baby anything but my Pokémon cards you know all of those are collectables.” You shook your head at him.
“You’re something else Jack.” He laughed.
“That’s very much true but you know you love me.” He grinned and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “That I do.”
Requested by @harlowcomehome
#jack harlow#jack harlow concepts#jack harlow imagine#jack harlow x reader#jack harlow x y/n#jack harlow x you
269 notes
·
View notes
Note
I just had a jj x reader (kinda rafe) idea pop in my head!
Reader and JJ are somewhere and rafe walks up all cocky and basically asks jj a question or says something that he would only know by getting close with reader. (ex: “hey jj, how you like that tattoo” , “has she done that trick on you yet?”) basically revealing that the reader and rafe has slept together at some point and no one knew.
I explained it all messy but I know you can write it amazingly!!
for your eyes only (18+)
Rafe Cameron x Reader (JJ Maybank x Reader)
Sum: Your boyfriend JJ isn’t the only guy to see your brand new nipple piercings
Warnings: DUB-CON, Oral sex, cheating, hair pulling, drug use, blood, piercings
Your grad party had mostly been a blur of vodka and loud music. Your parents had gone all out, making everything perfect for you.
They were not however, a fan of your boyfriend, JJ Maybank. He hadn’t attended the party. The one stipulation so that everything be paid for in full. You hadn’t cared, really, about the party. It was the money from wealthy friends and relatives on figure eight that intrigued you.
So when you found out your mom had invited Ward Cameron and his family, you had simply, neglected to tell JJ that Rafe would be at your party that night.
“Now tell me again,” Rafe smiled, showing off bright, white teeth, “how your parents convinced you to go along with that shit?”
Rafe had stayed after the party had ended as you two got caught up in the basement.
You leaned forward on the table, taking your credit card in your hand to chop the small white powder into thin lines. “Money. Everything boils down to money.”
Leaning down, you closed off one nostril and inhaled the white dust with the other. It stung as it entered your system, and shocked your brain lightly as it hit. You shook it off easily, relaxing back into the chair.
Rafe smirked at your clear experience with the drug. “Miss perfect not so perfect anymore, then?”
You shrugged, pulling your hoodie over your head to expose your skintight tank top. “I mean I guess you could say that. I’m dating a pogue.”
Rafe’s eyes scanned your now heavily exposed body, trailing over the curve of your breasts and stomach. Your mind clouded, you locked eyes with him as you leaned down, pushing the tops of your breasts together as you did.
A quiet groan reverberated in his throat at your actions. “Yeah well I’m sure he doesn’t fuck you right.”
“He fucks me great.” You hummed, plugging your nose to take another bump. You shook yourself lightly with chills after, and Rafe watched as your nipples perked underneath the thin material of your top, piercings visible.
You blushed, a small smile creeping to your lips as you raised your hands to cover your tits. “Sorry, s’cold.”
With that, he stood. You could see the outline of his cock in his shorts. Your heart raced at the sight. You wanted him so badly and yet you didn’t. Cheating on JJ was out of the question yet at the same time you yearned for Rafe’s cock.
He brought a hand to palm himself over his pants as he stepped towards you. You were still seated, looking up to meet his gaze as you were level with his crotch.
“I cant.” You croaked out, mouth suddenly very dry. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and feel it in your pussy.
He stood in front of you, raising a hand to rub at the back of your head, fisting your hair.
Rafe’s fingers massaged your scalp, and like reflex your mouth fell open for him. With his free hand, he placed two fingers inside your mouth.
He pushed his fingers to the back of your throat, keeping you on the verge of gagging. “Suck them for me. You know how.”
Your brain snapped into action, sucking and licking the rough pads of his digits. He watched your intently, still rubbing your head.
“That’s it,” He mumbled, forcing his fingers farther into your throat, “Good girl.”
In an instant he pulled his fingers from your mouth, earning a ‘pop’ and a string of saliva.
You closed your mouth, clenching your jaw to keep yourself from moaning at the feeling of your thighs rubbing together. The friction rubbed against your clit.
He squeezed your scalp, pulling the hair roughly to get you to open your mouth again. “I promise you this is better than some pogue dick, baby.”
Removing the hand from your scalp, he leaned down, pulling the bottom of your top up to expose your breasts and nipple piercings.
“How pretty,” He smiled, thumbing at a nipple, “New?”
You frown, swatting his hand away, “Just shut up and let me suck your cock.”
You woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, and mild confusion. Why had you decided to sleep on the basement futon? And why was Rafe Cameron on the couch?
You jumped to your feet, throwing the blankets off and readjusting your top to cover yourself “You need to get the fuck out, now.” You hissed, shaking him.
Rafe groaned, clearly hungover, and rolled over the face you. “Fuck what time is it?”
“It doesn’t fucking matter!” You whisper yelled, “My boyfriend picks me up at noon for work. You need to be gone.”
With that, you had his attention. Rafe sat up, rubbing his eyes and wiped the drool from his mouth. “Shit I totally forgot you had a boyfriend. Maybank, huh?”
“Yes,” You growled, putting your hands on his shoulders in an attempt to force him up, “Now go!”
“Fine.” Rafe stood, brushing himself off and grabbing his phone. He attempted to turn it on only to see it was dead. “Fuck. You’re really gonna stay with him?”
You placed your hands on his back, not replying to his question. With one hard shove he started walking.
After Rafe was gone you got ready for work. JJ picked you up as normal and you both headed to the country club.
You were closing bartender, and the night had gone mostly smoothly until your boyfriend came up to rant.
“You know,” The blond handed you back a drink glass, “I hate serving when Rafe and his friends are here.”
Your heart sank to your feet, and you squeezed the glass so hard it broke in your hands. Blood ran from your wounds onto the glass pieces. “Shit.”
“Woah!” JJ walked behind the bar, putting his hands on your hips to step you away from the glass on the floor. “Alright baby let’s go get you cleaned up.”
As you walked beside your boyfriend, you saw Rafe out of the corner of your eye, smiling.
“Hey Maybank!” He called, shaking his glass, “More water?”
JJ lifted your hand to show the blood, “Little busy right now, Rafe.”
You breathed a sigh of relief at his silence, and followed JJ to the first aid kid. He bandaged your hands gently, cleaning every wound.
“You gotta be more careful, baby.” He lifted your bandaged hand to kiss it, “What would I do without you?”
You have a weak smile, turning on your heal to head back for the bar. JJ followed behind.
As you passed Rafe’s table, you held your breath.
“Maybank,”
You paused.
“How do you like the new piercings?”
#outer banks#outerbanks#obx smut#obx season 3#obx#obx2#obx fic#obx imagine#rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#rafe smut#rafe x y/n#rafe obx#jj maybank x y/n#obx jj#jj mayback x reader#jj maybank x reader#obx jj maybank#jj maybank#jj maybank imagine#jj obx#obx rafe cameron#obx rafe#obx jj x reader
720 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jealous of a jock
pairing: Ted Logan x reader
summary : You've been friends with Ted and Bill for years now, being an inseparable trio. But Ethan, a jock from your class, desperately needs your help to study for an upcoming History exam. Ted doesn't really like this new friendship and tries his best to make you understand how he feels about it.
Warnings : obv jealousy and a kinda possessive Ted but other than that, it's pretty light! just like every fanfic writer ever, English isn't my first language so keep that in mind while reading!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾
I took a deep breath as I walked into the library, trying to calm my nerves. Today was another tutoring session with Ethan, one of the jock's from school. I had been helping him with his history homework for the past few weeks, and despite our very different social circles, we had become quite good friends. We started talking when our History teacher put us together for an oral presentation about the Roman Empire, about how it was founded. When we started working on it, Ethan immediately noticed how much of an History nerd I am, which at first, I was kind of scared of, since he's a stereotypical jock that could make fun of me for knowing so much about "old dudes in dresses".
But, to my suprise, he was more impressed than anything and quite friendly. We clicked the moment I noticed how much he tried to help, even if he didn't understand anything. Our presentation was a success; 18/20, that's when he asked to be his tutor. My friendship with Ethan became quite good, I grew more and more attached to him, which seemed to be causing some problems with Ted, problems that I didn't get why even started.
He just grew more distant and cold towards me, while Bill stayed the same so it really is personal. So his new attitude explains why, right now, it's so awkward between us. I told him I couldn't eat with him and Bill because I promised to help Ethan during lunch, which ended in Ted insisting to, at least, make the walk to the library with me. Of course I said yes, I missed hanging out with him too, but maybe I would have said no if I knew how silent he would be....
As Ted and I continued walking down the stairs, I noticed him staring at me with a look of concern so, I took this opportunity to break the uncomfortable silence. "What's wrong, Ted?" I asked, trying to figure out what was going on. "You've been quiet all the way. Which, coming from you, is really concerning."
"Y/N, I don't like you hanging out with Ethan all the time." Ted blurred out, looking down.
"What? Why not?" I asked, surprised by his sudden change in behavior. Where is this coming from?
"He's a jock, dude."
"Oh." I said, understanding. "Ted, you really don't have to worry about this, he's actually really nice ! Nicer than I would've thought too." I smiled at Ted, to no avail; he still refused to look back at me.
"You're supposed to be hanging out with us, not him...We're your friends," He mumbled, his tone turning accusatory.
"I know you guys are my friends, Ethan just needs my help. He's failing History class and I'm the only one who can help him." I explained, hoping that he would understand. "Also, I'm allowed to have other friends. You're not the only guys I can help with History, you know."
"You're spending all your time with him! We don't get to hang out anymore !" Ted protested. "We also need your help dude for, like, History stuff..." He rubbed the back of his neck, walking farther away from me.
"I'm sorry, Ted, but I have to help him. I promise I'll make time for us too !" I assured him, hoping to ease his worries but by the look on his face, none of what I was saying was comforting him.
"Fine..." Ted sighed, his frustration evident. "Just make sure you don't forget about us. We miss hanging out with you dudette."
"I won't forget about you, Ted. You're both my best friends !" I said, giving him a reassuring smile while gently rubbing his arm up and down. "You're also too loud to forget."
He laughs, making my cheek redden slightly. Finally, here's the Ted I know ! He stops suddenly once we arrive in front of the library.
I look up at him with a shy smile. "I should go." I say, quieter than intended.
He simply waves at me before turning around, walking away, way too quickly. As I watch him go, I feel something tug at my heart, some sort of longing. I sigh, going in, ready to help Ethan.
As the days went by, I noticed that Ted was becoming more and more distant. He would barely talk to me and when he did, it was always about how much he missed hanging out with me. I tried to reassure him that I still cared about him and Bill, but it didn't seem to make a difference, no matter what I said. A few days ago, he commented about how I lied when I said I would make time for them. I didn't respond, not knowing what to say to that. He's usually so carefree, I wasn't expecting such an attitude from him, it took me by surprise. We haven't talked since...As I was walking to my next class, Ethan caught up to me in the hallway, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Hey, Y/N, you free tonight? I need some help with my homework !" he asked, flashing me a smile.
"Sure, Ethan. I'll meet you in the library after school." I replied, feeling a twinge of guilt for not spending more time with Ted and Bill, by accepting his offer without thinking twice. Maybe I was getting a little too attached to Ethan.
"Wait, do you have your Spanish class today?" He asked, smirking. "Because my deutsch teacher isn't here."
"Oh no, she's absent too!" We laugh at that realisation. "Well, I guess we can study right now then."
He comes next to me, taking my bag from my shoulders. "Hey !" I gasp, surprised. "You have to stop doing that, I already told you I can carry my bag myself."
"And I told you I can also carry your bag Y/N !" He winks at me, making me roll my eyes. "You're helping me for free so this is my way of paying you." He replies, walking shoulder to shoulder with me.
"What a gentleman..."
I took a deep breath to calm myself as I walked into the library with Ethan, still laughing from what he said. Today was another day I spent doing a tutoring session with Ethan, instead of hanging out with Bill and Ted.
I felt a heavy gaze on me as soon as we entered so, I looked around, until I saw Ted sitting at a table with Bill, both of them staring at me. Bill smiled when I noticed them while Ted just hung his head low. I turn around to Ethan, asking him to take a table for us. After he left, I took another deep breath, preparing myself for whatever mood Ted was in. "Hey guys," I said, walking over to their table. "What's up?"
"Nothing much dude !" Bill said, grinning. "Just waiting for you to show up, we were gonna go grab some pizza's and slushies !"
Ted didn't say anything, just focusing on his fidgety fingers. I frowned, feeling a pang of guilt for how he felt. "I'm sorry, guys. I can't today. I have a tutoring session with Ethan, his test is next week. He barely remembers when the Cold War was so we have a lot of work to do !"
Ted's head snapped up at the mention of Ethan. "Again ? You're always hanging out with him. Don't you have any time for us dude?"
I felt my face flush, taken aback by his tone. There it was again... "I'm sorry, Ted. I'm just trying to help him out. It's not like we're doing anything wrong." I clutched my arm, trying to stay calm. "We talked about this already; I'm helping him, he needs my help."
"Maybe he's using you for your, like, brain dude." He looked back down. "You don't know..."
I bristled, feeling defensive. "He's a nice guy, Ted. And I can be friends with whoever I want." I crossed my arms. "Why are you so angry about this ? You're usually so chill about everything, why is this specific thing getting to you so much ?"
"Yeah dude, what's with the attitude?" Joined Bill, just as confused as me. "Be nicer to the babe."
Ted's jaw clenched as he stood up abruptly. "Fine. Do what you want. Just don't expect me to sit around waiting for you all the time." He paused, looking at both of us with wide eyes. "I'm hungry anyways."
He stormed out of the library, leaving Bill and me staring at him in shock.
"What the hell was that about?" Bill muttered, looking up at me.
I shook my head, feeling just as confused as him.
"I don't know. He's just been acting weird lately." I sigh, rubbing my hand down my face. "Since I started to help Ethan he's like that... I don't understand why tho."
"Maybe he's jealous," Bill suggested, raising an eyebrow.
I scoffed. "Jealous? Of what?"
"Of Ethan," Bill responded, shrugging. "You guys have been spending a lot of time together. Maybe Ted feels left out, I don't know." Bill smiled knowingly at me. "I mean, you did walk in here laughing while he was carrying your bag, dude."
"I, what ?" I think about it for a moment, still shaking my head. "Why would he mind about that ? Ted never carried my bag before..."
I rolled my eyes, but deep down, I knew that Bill was right. Ted had always been a little possessive of me, I just had never thought it was anything serious. We just always had each other so, I simply thought he was afraid I would leave for the more popular kids, maybe it's deeper than that... I look at Bill for an instant, noticing his open notebook.
"Hey, you want to study with me and Ethan ?" I asked, smiling. "I could help you with the Charlemagne chapter."
Bill face immediately lightened up. "It would be most excellent dudette !"
The next week, I had another tutoring lesson scheduled with Ethan, as always. He had his test in two days so this was THE moment to study. It's been days since I saw Ted, I had glimpse of him sometimes in the hallways, he would walk past me after quickly glancing my way. I tried to not overthink it but it was hard, I was missing him an awful lot... Not seeing it everyday of every minute just reminded me how much I like him, how bad my crush on him is.
As I walked into the library to join Ethan who sat at our usual table, I saw Ted sitting alone, looking dejected as always. With my heart starting to pound, I walked up to him, hating how our last conversation ended. The moment I approached his table, he looked up before quickly adverting his eyes, sitting up straight.
"Hey, Ted, what are you doing here?" I asked, kind of surprised to see him here of all places. He usually never hangs out in the library expect if we have to study, he seems to be here quite a lot lately.
"I thought I'd surprise you and come help you tutor Ethan..." Ted said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Bill told him you helped him after, you know."
"Really? That's great, Ted!" I said, genuinely happy to see him and especially hear him say that. "Oh yeah, it's great !" I grasped his hand without thinking, dragging him to me and Ethan's table. When he noticed us approach, Ethan smiled nicely. "What's up?" he asked while Ted sat on the chair next to me. "You're Theo, right?" Ethan asked, putting his fist in front of him.
"Ted." He responded simply, fist bumping Ethan's hand with hesitation.
"Right, Ted, my bad man."
"He's really bad with names." I murmured, trying to ease the atmosphere. " Especially Napoléon Bonaparte, he cannot remember his name even if his life depended on it..."
"Hey, that French guy as a hard name ok !" Replied Ethan, his hand up in surrender.
"Napoleon ?" Repeated Ted, before turning to me. "Oh the little angry French dude ?"
Ethan brust out laughing at that, earning us a shush from the librarian. We giggled quietly, Ted shoulders relaxing lightly and is usual smile finally appaering again.
"Guys, guys, let's focus ok ? The test is in two days !" I say in the most neutral voice possible, not succeeding to stop my growing smile from appearing at Ted's one. "Ok, so what famous battle did Napoléon Bonaparte loose ?"
Three hours later, we finally get out of there, sighing loudly. Ethan's leave's us quickly, having a football practice, leaving me and Ted alone in front of the library. I quickly glance at him but feel heat rise to my cheeks when I see that he was already looking at me, a big smile on his lips.
"You were right dudette ! Ethan is a nice dude !" He pat's my shoulder. "He as a most excellent humour."
I laugh, nudging Ted shoulder with mine. "Told you." I respond, adjusting my bag on my shoulder, groaning.
"I can carry it if you want !" Before I can even reply, he takes it from me and slings it over his available shoulder. "There ! Now we're ready to go !"
"Why do you all think I can't carry my own bag ?!" I complain, while catching up with Ted who already started walking. I stop my thoughts for a moment, thinking back on what Billy said to me a few days ago. I look back at Ted who's still smiling, moving his head to the beat of an invisible song. That's when it hits me, finally. I stop in my track, also stopping Ted by putting my hand on his arm. "What's up dude ?" He asks, turning around to face me. "Y/N ?"
"You were jealous of me and Ethan." I whisper, realising it as I say it. "But, not because you were afraid of losing me as...a friend."
Ted eyebrows furrow, confusion written all over his face. "What do you mean?"
"You were jealous, yes ?" I ask, looking up at him. "Be honest."
He's hesitant for a moment, his cheeks reddening slightly. "I mean, yeah...like, kinda. I was afraid he was, you know, mean and stuff." He shrugges, his gaze looking at everything but me. "Turns out he's nice ! And his exam is in two days, so you'll be free again !"
"Ted..."
"Yes ?" He responds, looking at me again, his smile fading when he see's my expression. "Y/N ?"
"Are you..." I gulp, feeling my hand starting to shake. "Ted, I have to admit something to you. I don't know if I'm reading what's happening in the wrong way but I have to try, just in case I'm right." His brows furrow again, now he looks even more lost than before. "Give me my bag, just in case I'm wrong so that I can run away quickly." I chuckle nervously.
"What ?" He laughs quickly "Why would you ran away dude ?"
"I like you." I blur out, looking him dead in the eyes. "Not in a you're my best friend way but in a I want to be way more than your best friend way." I quickly swallow, feeling my courage fade. "I mean, not super mega best friend way either. Romantic way, like couples." I search his eyes. "Ted ?" I ask, my heart hammering in my chest. "Please, say something..."
"Woah dude..." He whispers, taking his head in his hands. "DUDE !"
I jump at his sudden yelling but can't help a laugh when I see him jumping around, punching the air yelling dude and woah multiples time. He suddenly stops, looking at me with the widest smile I've ever seen him have.
"DUDE !" He yells again, running towards me, lifting me in his arms while I yelp.
"Ted ! Oh my god, what are you doing ?!" I laugh while he spins me around. "I'm going to fall, I'll fall !" I breath out, felling my body slip away from his arms. "Ted, what's happening with you ?" I laugh, out of breath while he puts me down, his arms still holding me close to him.
"What's happening ? Dude, you told me you're in love with me !" He responds quickly, his voice trembling. "The most bodacious babe just told me she likes me ! Like, in a romantic way !"
I push him a bit to look at him, surprised. "Wait, does that mean..."
He cuts me off. "Of course it does ! Why would I spin you around ?"
"Do you even know yourself ? You could do it at any given opportunity!" I laugh, in disbelief. "So, I was right, you were jealous of Ethan."
Ted lower his head, his hair covering his face to hide his shamefulness. "Yeah... I mean, the guy's has everything. He's popular, handsome, nice and a jock. Bonus point for being funny !"
I smile tenderly, taking his face in my hands to put his gaze back into mine.
"True. He's veeeery handsome." Ted huff, trying to look away but I turn his face again to make him look back at me. "But I prefer guys with brown hair and eyes, who wear silly jackets with a big smiling face behind, rather than a sport's one. I also prefer guys with a blond friend called Bill. You want me to continue or you got it ?"
I feel the heat radiating from his face on my fingers, if seeing how red he was wasn't enough. We only look at each other for a moment, letting everything sink in.
"I really want to kiss you." He breaths out. "Can I kiss you ?"
"After you apologies."
"I'm sorry for being an evil dude. I shouldn't have ignored such a babe just because of a nice jock guy."
I giggle when he gives my cheek a quick peck. "And I'm sorry for not taking the time to hang out with you and Bill, I should have. I swear that from this day on, I will no matter what !" I finish my speech by returning his quick peck, making him giggle. "Now you can kiss me handsome."
He blushes at the pet name before crashing his lips on mine without a warning, making me yelp in surprise. Quickly, I compose myself and slide my hands to his hair to deepen the kiss while they move in rhythm with one another. It's clumsy, so we smile and giggle through it, he even apologies some times which I always respond with a simple it's ok before pulling him back for more. He doesn't have to be jealous, because no matter how messy and inexperienced our kisses are, I only want his.
"This was the most excellent kiss ever !"
#Ted Logan#ted logan x reader#keanu reeves x reader#keanu reeves#bill and teds excellent adventure#bill and teds bogus journey#bill and teds excellent adventure imagine#x reader#ted logan x you#ted logan jealous#ted logan imagine
414 notes
·
View notes
Note
Throwing a new scenario at you have you ever thought about what if ford kind of took advantage of stans spotty memory to start a deeper relationship with him? Just implying this is something theyve been doing already and stans simply forgotten and stan (not that ford is aware of this) hesitantly believes it because he has memories of looking at ford in a way he shouldn't. /thinking/ about ford in a way he shouldn't so maybe he just hasnt recovered those memories of acting on those thoughts yet
But as time goes by he'll ask ford for like. More details to try and jog his memory and ford gives him vague, general things (because well. Never actually happened) and stan is getting more suspicious and freaked out
He starts questioning his reality and if ford is just going along with this because it's what /stan/ wanted and ford felt guilty for the mind wipe so he went along with it so he starts pulling away and ford is getting a little panicked because he thinks stan has figured out his lie and is about to leave him (guess what ford? Gaslighting your brother actually can backfire crazy right?)
Hell maybe ford got the idea because sometimes stan in his relapses DID get confused about their relationship and commented on fords attractiveness or something so ford was like. Well. What's the harm? It's better to not stress stan out in the relapse and make him panicked about finding his brother attractive. Clearly it would be easier for him to just act like this was pre-established!
Absolutely nothing could go wrong ford is sure of it
- 🐶
oh absolutely! i also swear i saw someone else talking about a similar situation the other day that i just loved (and i wish i could remember WHERE i saw it so i could link it). like the darker spin of "ford convinces stan they were closer than they were" on purpose is definitely interesting. but i really love the idea of it being a little bit of ford leaning in and a lot of stan not having a great grasp on what he was repressing. so you've got ford blurring the lines on purpose but then you've got stan blurring the lines because he's always wanted to so okay yeah that tracks, he just wishes he could remember how they got there, who made the first move, how long they've been open with each other about this.
i also really love the idea of stan thinking that ford might just be putting up with him, because it's almost always the other way around when i've seen it. stan agreeing to (or maybe not necessarily agreeing to but not fighting as hard as he should against) letting their relationship go further than he's comfortable with because it's ford. and if that's how he can keep ford in his life, he'll make it work. but i haven't seen a lot of the reverse, of stan feeling like he's the one that's pushing them over the line and ford may only be going through with it to keep him happy or out of some sort of obligation after weirdmaggedon.
so here you have two fucking idiots, basically, who both just refuse to outright admit their feelings for each other. and yeah, ford has a heavier responsibility here being the one with all his facilities in better working order, sure, but god forbid they just sit down and talk about it when stan is lucid enough. i actually just recently was introduced to this fic, which you have probably seen already but if not, HIGHLY reccommend! because i really do love the idea that when stan has his memory lapses he just. immediately starts hitting on ford. like every time that trope comes up it thrills me.
but okay lol, this is a sharp left and not at all in line with the complicated, angstier edge of things we've been talking about, but lean with me for a second, 🐶. let's assume they've sorted their shit out, they're both up to speed with their mutual affection, and this kinda lapse happens frequently enough that they need a contingency plan of some sort. but when he does lapse, stan has a wildly high rate of immediately clocking ford as "hot as hell" and someone he wants to horizontal tango with.
well what if stan just...gave ford permission to go along with it if he wanted to? it's like an absolutely buckwild sort of pseudo-one-sided roleplay, but they can debrief when stan's back to rights, and it's a nicer way of navigating the situation. stan sure as hell prefers coming back to himself with Ford boneless in bed beside him rather than wringing his hands and looking like the guiltiest man that's ever lived. like there's obviously a fantastic opportunity for angst and drama and emotional fallout with stan's memory ish, but i also think they deserve to make the best of the situation once in a while. as a treat!
#this is me meandering all over the place#and dragging you down a fucking rabbit hole with me sorry#stancest#pretend my ask tag is cute
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pedro boys and why I'm swiping left on their tinders
This is all to be silly!! I love them all very much <3
Frankie Morales
His name there says Frankie (Catfish)....with his main profile picture being him holding you guessed it...a catfish. He doesn't have many other photos on there, with the exception of a few older military photos that are so blurry you can hardly tell which one he's meant to be.
The rest of his page is pretty empty aside from the music section, where you actually get the first real glimpse at what this man is about. While his music selection is very respectable, it does not overshadow the glaring issues with his profile.
In short, Frankie's profile makes you think "Am I dating the man? The fish? Or a catfish?" Swiping left fs.
Marcus Moreno
This one isn't his fault! His profile is perfect. No really. All the women at The Heroics made sure to help him with it! His photos are cute and show off all his best assets. The bio is a little cheesy in an endearing "yeah he's definitely a dad" way. The problem then? It's Marcus fucking Moreno!!! Leader of the Heroics!!!!!! On Tinder???? There's no way anyone is going to believe it's really him. I believe there's a verification option on Tinder now, but really...even then Idk. Unless he fully comes out on an interview or something to super casually mention he's on Tinder, it just ain't working. No one likes a catfish! (Sorry Frankie!)
Jack Daniels
Mr. "Tinder What?" himself!!!! Let's say he manages to figure out how to set up a profile and all that. It's gonna be inTERESTING to say the least. His photos are actually pretty solid. An intriguing mix of photos of him on the ranch and photos of him in the Statesmen HQ looking very well put together. Opening line is definitely "Save a Horse! Ride a Cowboy! 🤠♥️" Very on brand for him. Followed by something very pro-american about the flag or serving his country and honestly... that's where I'm gone 😅. We get to see a bit of Jack's political mind in Kingsman and let's just say i don't wanna know the rest of it.
I'm grateful this is Tinder and not Bumble. Because if Jack used the audio prompt and I heard that smooth Kentucky accent...forget EVERYTHING I just said. I would be taking a chance on him. Sorry 😔 I can't fix him, but I will have fun trying!!
Joel Miller
For namesake, we're gonna set this pre-outbreak. There's no time for swiping in the apocalypse. Profile isn't bad just very empty. He's not really trying and it's kinda obvious. His bio reads something along the lines of "Single dad of a spoiled teen" with mostly photos of himself and Sarah on his profile. A few photos of him and Tommy out camping or on a work site.
And as handsome as he is, the profile feels like something his kid forced him to make as a way of getting him off her back. I wanna sympathize and help her out, but I don't know I have the heart to attempt to win over this very clearly emotionally unavailable DILF. So for that reason, I'm swiping left.
Pero Tovar
If for some ungodly reason Pero was given Internet access and had a dating profile... it'd be a disaster. His bio reads something along the lines of "I don't open this app. If you wish to see me meet me at this pub" with approximate days and times he's there.
The first picture on his profile is a way too far away blurry shot of him training. If I was feeling brave enough to continue scrolling through his photos...the rest would certainly be borderline explicit highly suggestive photos of his torso and groin. And whilst I might think about it for approximately .25 seconds any remaining sense of dignity would kick in before I actually did anything about it. It'll sting momentarily, but I will be swiping left.
Ezra
Another man on this list who should absolutely NOT be given internet access. His photos are beautiful but uninformative...the only shots of him are blurred and artistically obscure. He pads the rest of his profile with photos of books he's reading and grainy shoots of the forest.
The bio...if there's a word limit best believe that Ezra has hit it. He used every given character at his disposal and managed to say very little with all of it. Something about a wandering spirit longing for companionship and a couple sexual innuendos for good measure.
While visually and verbally not the worst profile on this list, his pretension is so utterly palpable through the screen I actually don't think I'd be able to make it through the end of his bio without cringing...also his music selection is all just banjo instrumental???
#am writes#pedro pascal#pedro boys#ezra prospect#pero tovar#joel miller#jack Daniels#marcus moreno#frankie morales#pedro pascal characters
128 notes
·
View notes