#i don't trust him but at least he has taste
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i'm sort of obsessed with the idea that the only thing zava knows about rebecca is that she was married to the antichrist, she sour yells at men in bathrooms and apparently all her surfaces are covered in crumbs
#and that's all he NEEDS to know thank you#ted lasso#rebecca welton#jess watches ted lasso#liveblogging#i don't trust him but at least he has taste#case in point: signing with richmond after being verbally accosted in the loos by a beautiful very tall intimidating woman
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one of the prev posts I was like oh cql? on the url and they WERE cql...but their top tag was...bad....but I don't even have the energy to refute their nonsensical arguments for it because like that's not what shipping really is about but also THEY REALLY THINK JC IS *THE ONE* TO MAKE WWX HAPPY AND LWJ IS BORING???? incest aside like jc makes wwx MISERABLE jfc canonically yeah lwj does make wwx happy and jc is left miserable and alone due to the consequenves of his actions including actively tormenting and mocking and humiliating and trying to kill wwx. go die mad about it 😭
#like 'wow their love for each other is so crazy and all-consuming its insane to thibk some boring lan cultivator could do that for him'#WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!!!! their relationship is so unhealthy and marred by debt and obligations in the FIRST PLACE#and even without that yeah there's love there but they also just don't see eye to eye on so many things and jc actively impedes#wwx in things he wants or believes in and also treats him like shit like this is fully a sector of the fanbase who are just making things u#in their own head to enjoy#which would be mildly annoying if not for the fact that it's 1. INCEST#and 2. between two characters with THAT kind of history. wwx needs someone he can like...trust..#okay I guess I donhave the energy. I'm less angry at them calling lwj boring. yeah he is kind of boring but that's fine#wwx canonically doesn't think so and canonically is very happy w him#these bitches think his arguably abusive extremely immature and volatile pseudo-brother who tortured and tried to kill him is BETTER FOR HI#?????? brother jc is not better for ANYONE. there's loving someone and there's wanting to be around them and shit. like there's so much#history there it's lucky if they can even be friends again#like 🤢🤢🤢 what the fuck are you on. the narrative was pretty clear. media comprehension -100000#I don't even think this person is unintelligent or anything they just have incredibly bad and nonsensical taste#or at least used to. idk how old those posts were I fully admit#wwx with anyone besides lwj is a hard sell but jc is beyond insane for multiple reasons#even if you 'don't see them as brothers' which is an interpretation I guess they still have a horrible relationship#and jc makes wwx feel terrible bc he has a bad personality and blames wwx for all the most painful things that happened to him and he lashe#out constantly. like he canonically makes wwx miserable and forces him to prioritize jcs own emotional and physical needs. by the end he's#a little better. but he's also not the moral beacon wwx gravitates towards. he's pragmatic and callous#wwx NEEDS someone he can trust someone who shares his principles someone who will take care of him and not demand him to crush inconvenient#parts of himself and play nice. to cater to someone else's feelings#like...structurally they're so well matched this post was insane I hate c/x shippers so much 😭#cor.txt
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having a sibling dunk on your fave is an interesting experience. i can call astarion a little bitch out of love and affection, and will magnanimously tolerate my younger brother parroting me and calling him a little bitch exactly two (2) times out of the goodness of my heart, but after the third time gleefully declaring him a little bitch i WILL defend astarion and challenge my brother to an honor duel at dawn
#len speaks#his love hate relationship with the elf is rlly funny. he wants his approval and wants gim in his party but keeps picking the bedroll#farthest from his tent bc he does NOT trust him. or he says he does but 'only to an extent' 😭#i keep reasuring him that he won't bite him again and has a reason for being flirty but i don't think he'll ever be team astarion lmao#at least he likes karlach. he has great taste for a cishet guy tbh#anyways i'd literally brave the fires of hell for my bro but NOBODY gets to call my boy a bitch three times in a row 😤😤😤
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Mean!Logan who fucks you dumb to the point all you know is how good he feels instead of Scott Summers 🤭🤭🤭
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
send me mean!logan requests!
contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. mean!logan, dumbification, dacryphilia, don't like, don't read.
"What's his name?" Logan asks thoughtfully, lips pursed as he waits for your response. You're quite unable to give him one at the moment- at least a coherent one, while his hips piston forward and back, driving his thick cock into you.
"Go on, tell me." Logan prods, bumping his nose into your temple. He's going at an impressive pace, grunting with each hefty thrust, "Do you even remember it?"
A cry escapes your lips as Logan pushes you over the edge, unceremoniously, mercilessly, and you claw at his biceps as you're thrust into your climax. Your brain shorts out with white hot pleasure, something like pain but sweeter searing in your belly as you unconsciously curl your hips up to meet Logan's cock easier. There's no point- he can't possibly go deeper - but your body moves instinctively. He feels so good that you need more.
"Cyclops ring a bell?" He asks, but your ears ring too loud for his voice to get through. Either that or your brain muffles it like wet cement is drowning your thoughts, and the only name etched into the thick sludge is Logan, Logan, Logan.
"Dickhead, maybe? Laser-brain, Goggles, One-Eye..." Logan lists his most frequently used nicknames for the mutant he'd caught cornering you in the kitchen, but all you can do is muffle your moans into the sweat-soaked fabric of Logan's wifebeater.
"Who did this to you?" He feigns concern, like he's interrogating you after a beatdown, his nose now trailing over the apple of your cheek as his lips ghost your own.
"I-aah! Logan," You whimper, now oversensitive to penetration.
"Yeah? Who?"
"Logan," You breathe, eyes bleary with tears as you breathe him in- the sight of his face, hard-set and firm. His smell- sweat and musk and sex all rolled into one. His touch, the constant pressure between your legs as he keeps his dick buried in your cunt, no longer moving his hips. His eyes- they're staring at you, drinking in the repeated moans of his name that come pouring from your mouth like blood from a wound.
"Smart girl." He says, and you're so out of your mind that you don't read the cruel sarcasm in it- the way he's teasing you as Scott's name has fled your near-vacant brain.
"Who else? Got another man in there?" Logan taps the side of your head, where your spinning brain works overtime, "No? What about in here?"
He places a hand on your pelvis, pressing down gently so that you feel the imprint of his dick inside of you clearer, harsher, more intense.
"Anyone else in here?" He asks, keeping steady pressure on your cunt until you squirm in penance, begging for mercy from his teasing.
"That's right. Keep it that way." He snarls, letting up on your pelvis and using the hand to cup your cheek, relishing in the way you thoughtlessly lean into it, so trusting, so devoted, "Mine's the only name you need to be sayin', sweetheart. Say his again and I'll make you wash your mouth out with my fuckin' dick 'till it's all you can taste for a week."
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x you#logan howlett blurb#logan howlett drabble#logan howlett oneshot#wolverine x reader#wolverine imagine#wolverine smut
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extremely dubious consent. power/class imbalance. implied breeding. manipulation.
but regency era John Price paying off your chaperone to get you alone in a carriage for few hours and the whole time, your guardians think you're being properly supervised during this unorthodox courtship.
And sure, he's so much older than you, a widower with specks of grey along his temples and peppered in his beard, and more established in class and life compared to you, the poor thing that only just entered society and already got snatched up by the surly, gruff Duke. But it's John Price. Despite his temperament, he's such a respectable man, isn't he? They can trust him to protect you, of course.
And he does.
Your virtue, however? Not so much.
He does away with that little problem on the second outing he takes you on, smothering the protests that draw up, shaky and uncertain on your lips when the chaperone your guardians paid to watch over you walks away, swallowing it down with a searing kiss. Shushes you through it as he slips his thick fingers over the seam of you, arm buried beneath a dense layer of fabric, snuffing out those little gasps.
Don't worry about it, he rasps into the burning apple of your cheek. "s'how it's supposed to be, mm?" and when that doesn't quell the quiver in your brow, he adds:
"s'what I want, love. Jus' a little taste, mm?"
And the problem with gently reared girls is that they turn into such obliging women. Your eyes flicker downward—soft in your acquiescence even though your shoulders draw up cutely towards your ears. Pretty little thing. He couldn't possibly resist.
So he doesn't.
Taking such a lovely creature on the dirty floor of the carriage with your prim, proper skirts trussed up over your hips, shift in utter disarray from the scorching attention he lavished your breasts earlier is nothing short of euphoric. Aided by the adorable little whines you make when he finally notches his cock against your soft flesh. Worry flashing over your brow because he's just too big, too thick, for you to take, and maybe we shouldn't, Mr Price—
But you swallow him just as sweetly as he imagined you would when he pushes inside of you. Pussy fluttering around him in a panic at the blunt, thick intrusion, unused to such brutal treatment. And it's heaven, of course. Nirvana between the split of your pretty thighs. Pussy just made to take his cock. Loving it so tenderly like this
"Taking me so well, aren't you?"
Tears on your lashline. Nose scrunched up. He's sure it's a trial for you, but this is just a prelude. Ripping the bandaid off.
A necessary evil.
And if the altruistic facade falters under the blunt weight of his desire, his greed, then at least he has a failsafe to keep you in his pocket should your guardians decide he—in his age, his callousness—is not a good fit for their daughter. They are the doting type, after all. Romantics. Idealists.
It doesn't take him much at all to reach the apex of his pleasure, not when your hands press tight to chest as he bears his weight down, grinding his throbbing cock into the deepest part of you. Your moans, delicious little keens ringing so sweetly in his ears. Letting him ride you hard against the dirty floor, chasing his pleasure even as your knees dig into his sides, brows pinced but nodding along when he rasps in your ear about how good you feel and how it'll only get better, and next time—since you're bein' so bloody sweet f'im—he'll show you how to suck his cock between those damnably soft lips, keep his fingers buried inside of you while you fold yourself over the bench on your knees, mouth swallowing him down deep—
(If they can't come to reason and see why he's a good match, then the swell of your belly in a few months time will surely sway them—)
The thought breaks across his spine, molten heat puddling in his loins. Fuck—
Despite the viciousness of thrusts at the idea, you take his desire so goddamn well.
It sends him over the edge with a grunt. A belly deep groan. And just in time, too.
After he puts your clothes in order and slides you back into the seat, groaning when you squeeze your thighs tight together, keeping his cum from spilling out, your chaperone arrives with a nervous smile and a glint of guilt that's easily diminished with another slip of cash between palms. You stare, dazed and flushed, out the window, and barely even flinch when he lays his hand on your thigh, hold possessive. Proprietary.
"Time to go home, mm?"
And if he brings you back to your guardians flustered, limping, and a little dazed—well. The roads were just terrible, weren't they, sweetheart? Quite the rough ride, mm? He's sure next time will be better.
#i guess the era of older manipulative Price corrupting reluctant and bullied into liking it Reader has begun#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#price x reader
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TAKE IT, OSCAR PIASTRI
cw: SMUT, oral, biting, overstimulation, hair pulling n more . . .
"oscar! 's too much—i’m—" you hiccup, trying to push his head away, your legs trembling so much it feels like they might give out.
"sshh, it's okay," he murmurs, pulling you in closer and not letting up. "don't fight it, just let yourself go," his fingers digging into your hips, holding you in place as he continues to devour you.
his tongue glides along your inner thigh before he gently sinks his bunny teeth into your skin.
you're like a drug to him—the more he tastes you, the more he needs you.
you almost scream from the sensation and tug on his hair so hard it feels like it might rip off. "i can't—oscar, i’m—i can't take it!" you sob, overwhelmed as the pleasure edges into pain.
"shh baby, it's alright, shh," he shushes you as he senses your struggle. "just relax, relax,"
"can't take it—osc, please!" your thighs instinctivally tighten around his head, a desperate attempt to get him to stop.
"don't you dare try to squeeze me out," he growls. "i know it's a lot, princess, i know," he says softly, but the look he's giving you tells you he has no intention of stopping quite yet.
"just try to be a good girl for me, okay?" he teases the inside of your thigh with his finger, barely even grazing the skin. "can you do that for me?"
you struggle to form a coherent response as oscar's head lowers once again, making an absolute mess as he swirls his tongue against your throbbing clit.
your chest heaves, "osc—osc, oscar! i’m—oh my god, oh my go—oscar! oscar, oscar please! s’too much, s’too much!"
he presses down on your stomach to keep you still. "stop fidgeting," he warns, as his fingers dig into your flesh, leaving little indents.
"i know you think it's too much, but trust me. you've got at least one more in you," he smiles against you, "c'mon, be a good girl f'me," he looks up at you, taking in your flushed cheeks.
"just don't close your legs, baby."
© kissedsuns
#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri smut#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri#oscar piastri blurb#oscar piastri drabble#oscar piastri x fem!reader#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#oscar piastri fic#formula 1#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic
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NSFW Alphabet | Sae Itoshi .ᐟ
❤︎ | Get to know Sae Itoshi from A to Z~ ╰ feat. sae itoshi x afab! reader
minors do not interact
[A] Aftercare Decent. Bare minimum. Not over the top. At the very least he would wipe you down and clean you up without expecting you to move an inch. He'll even guide you to the bathroom if you plan to shower together (there are times when he carries you, but that's reserved for days when he REALLY goes all out on you). You have to specifically request for things if you want him to do it. Otherwise, that's all you're getting.
[B] Body Part Sae's canonically into ass. But it's important to note that he cares more about shape rather than size. He'll subtly ogle at your ass even in broad daylight, especially if you're wearing tight clothes that showcase it. On himself, however, he's aware of how nice his thighs look. Sometimes he'll pass by a full-length body mirror in just his boxers and he'll stand there for a minute to admire his legs. Partially, this is why he enjoys working out his legs.
[C] Cum Cums a lot, but not thick. It's more on the translucent side. He maintains a healthy diet so you can expect the taste to be bearable. Of course, he likes to release on your ass, but sometimes it gets on to your back as well. It's a sight he never gets tired of.
[D] Dirty Secret Even with his partner, he would hate to admit that he likes taking nude pictures of himself. It's not like he's going to send them out or that he gets off to it; he's no narcissist. But there's just something inexplicable about doing it. He'll snap a few, look at them, then delete them. He isn't sure why. But if you're into receiving nudes, he'll gladly comply (that is, if you've been together long enough).
[E] Experience Despite his good looks, it's surprising to know that he hasn't done it with a lot of people. He only does it with someone he's in a relationship with and even that rarely happens. He's a busy person and it takes longer for him to develop trust for anyone compared to the normal person. But you could say that he's a natural. He can make you cum at least a couple of times through instinct alone.
[F] Favorite Position He has a hard time picking between plain ol' doggy and reverse cowgirl. See any similarities? Yeah, both positions just give him a nice view of your behind. It allows him to grope, squeeze, and slap it any time he wants. He particularly likes watching it jiggle at every hard thrust that he does. Although, he might prefer doggy a little more as he can have most of the control in that position. But it's trivial to pick. He'll just have you in both positions each time you decide to do it anyway.
[G] Goofy The man doesn't smile, let alone laugh, during sex. It's not that he's not enjoying it, but he doesn't find the act to be humorous at all. He finds it weird to call it "fun". He'd rather describe it as passionate and intense which is why he's serious. However, there are VERY rare moments when he cracks a small smile, but it only happens in highly emotional moments (like your first time having sex as a married couple, for example).
[H] Hair He trims it, but not for sexual purposes. He's an extremely hygienic man, so he does it out of self-care. In reality, he doesn't care too much about what their partner thinks of his hair. If they like it; then great. If they don't; they can deal with it. Besides, he doesn't care about his partner's hair. He'll take whatever's waiting for him down there. He'll never go fully bald because he finds it odd. He'll trim it a bit regularly and that's about it.
[I] Intimacy A very passionate lover; that's for sure. As I've mentioned, he finds the act to be something serious. He'll only do it with you out of love and care. So even if he doesn't outwardly seem like a romantic person in bed, he definitely is. He likes to keep it fair in the bedroom. So if he's enjoying, you should be enjoying it just as much as he is. Although, he doesn't speak much, but he'll call you "Amor" sometimes. Sae will whisper that name in your ear gently.
[J] Jack Off As you might expect, he doesn't do it a lot. For one, he's too busy doing or thinking about something else. It's something that he can only think about doing when he's lying in bed at night with a blank mind. Sae mostly does it out of frustration—if he wants to release pent up emotions without lashing out on someone else. He's quick and likes to get the job done as fast as he can. Can you blame him? It relaxes him after all. Though, he isn't immune to temptation either. If you send him jack off material, he'll gladly use it.
[K] Kink Sae discovered it a bit late, but he likes brat taming. He doesn't even know that it's a thing. He just knows that he likes putting disobedient girls in their places. He'll act annoyed or pissed off at your insolence, but deep down, he's craving that you do it more. Something about feeling that his authority is being challenged, excites him. Of course, it adds some spice to your bedroom activities. But maybe it has to do with him proving to you over and over again that he's the one in control—he's the one holding the reigns. He especially loves it when you eventually become obedient in the end. But keep being a tease; he eats it up.
[L] Location Anywhere as long as it's inside the house/apartment/hotel. He likes the privacy and comfort that those places offer. He can't be bothered to think about the possibility of getting caught. As thrilling as it might be, he has a reputation to uphold. The impending PR work is not worth the orgasm, at least for him. He also would hate to do it in a place that would force you into a weird position. At least at home there's a bed, a couch, a chair, or a counter for you to use. Again, he's a hygienic guy, so the dirty outdoors is a huge no for him.
[M] Motivation First of all, he has to be either extremely relaxed or incredibly frustrated—there is no in between. But once either condition is met, it's not that hard to get him in the mood. In fact, he likes to hear how eager you are. Simply asking him if he wants to do it would be more than enough. Even better if you express how much you've been needing him throughout the day or week. There are times when he initiates things, but that usually happens when you're already touching each other (like while cuddling). You'll know because he'll grind his hard on against you or deliberately take your hand and place it there.
[N] No Anything extreme is off the table for him. In many ways, he's quite vanilla. The farthest he'll go would be a little bit of bondage and usage of toys. But if there's extreme pain, blood, piss, and things beyond that involved—consider him out.
[O] Oral Again, he likes to keep things pretty equal, so likes both giving and receiving. Although, you might notice that he'll go at your pussy first before letting you suck him off. It gets him into the momentum apparently. Plus, most of the time, he already gets you to cum from his tongue alone. You swear that he gets better each time he does it. You can never last long since he likes to suck on the clit, oop. When you suck him off, he'll tangle his fingers in your hair and guide you lightly. He lets you do your thing, pretty much. The only exception is when he's really stressed out—expect him to tug at your hair a little harder then.
[P] Pace He usually likes it slow and sensual. Sex is the only time he feels relaxed and in control of his time. Why would he want to rush it? The atmosphere also feels different for him when he goes slow. Furthermore, Sae uses this as a way to observe you properly—which spots to hit, which points to stimulate at the same time, and so on. It gets him off knowing that he can get better and better at providing pleasure. Consider it as part of his ego as well. He might take it slow, but there are definitely moments when he pounds you hard and steady. The type of pounding that needs you to hold on for dear life or else you'll fall.
[Q] Quickie Not really a fan of it. But it's not like he would never do it. Sae will only resort to quickies when absolutely necessary. Those kinds of situations are mostly when both of your schedules are packed and there is literally not enough time to have proper sex. That or when both of you feel incredibly frustrated and nothing else will satiate you but each other. Another reason why he doesn't do this as much is that it leaves him wanting more. He hates feeling like a needy idiot, so he avoids quickies as much as he can.
[R] Risk He'll try anything not-so-extreme at least once, especially if you ask him nicely. Though he has shown interest in experimenting in bondage a bit, more specifically, in shibari. It's a bit intricate and it might hurt you a bit if not done right, but if you're willing to share that risk with him—he's game. From the Sae perspective, I'd say a risky thing that he does is whispering things in your ear he wouldn't normally say. He just likes to keep you on your toes and the way you clench down on him is just way too good. Besides, you'll most likely forget he said it anyway because he fucks you dumb most of the time.
[S] Stamina His endurance and stamina in general are certainly well-trained, but he is just a man. His dick needs to recuperate at its own pace. Maybe he can last two rounds for the most part, but there are days when he can only last for one. But it's not much of an issue. In that one round, he can last for so long. He can take advantage of that time and make you cum over and over again. Besides, even if you've milked him for the time being, he can still go at it with his mouth and fingers. You'll never catch him breathless after a few measly minutes.
[T] Toys He doesn't own any. He feels silly spending money on such things and using it on himself. But if it's for you; he'll gladly spend as much as he needs. He just doesn't see the appeal of using it on himself. Pocket pussies? Cock rings? Seems a bit ridiculous to him. But if you happen to own a vibe or two, he'll definitely use it. There's no harm in heightening your pleasure anyway. He's also chill with a bit of bondage rope and handcuffs. He's a bit iffy about using dildos though. Maybe it's because of his pride, but what's the use of it when you can have his dick instead?
[U] Unfair He's a tease without even trying. The snarky remarks that he makes comes out of his mouth naturally. "Oh, you're cumming again? You're too easy," and he'll say it with a straight face. Sometimes when you do ask him to fuck you faster, he'll ignore you on purpose. The man wants to hear you beg so nicely for him after being such a brat earlier. Although, he's surprisingly less of a tease as you'd expect.
[V] Volume Mostly grunts and groans. He claims that you will never hear him whimper, so of course, you make it your life's purpose to get him to whimper. It has yet to happen. And he does find it amusing that you think that you can make THE Sae Itoshi whimper like a bitch. Aside from that, the sounds he makes aren't so loud. He makes sure the grunts near your ear, containing it there. BUT, a little quirk of his is that he lets out a long sigh once he cums. It just feels so relieving that he can't help it anymore.
[W] Wild Card He thinks he'd bust right away sometimes whenever you stare up at him while you suck him off. Seeing you servicing him so eagerly while on your knees does things to his brain. It makes his ego swell like insane. "You're such a good girl, amor. You love me alot, don't you?" He'll wipe away the tears that threaten to fall because your jaw's so stretched out. Sae knows you're struggling a bit, but hang on for now and he'll reward you plenty afterwards.
[X] X-ray Not that girthy, but loooooong. He has quite a pretty dick, especially since he keeps it neat down there as well. It doesn't curve that much, but it is quite veiny. You can see the veins because of his pale complexion. There's one particularly thick vein that feels the best when rubbing against your walls. He's also cut, so you know that he has a light pink tip. Definitely a shower.
[Y] Yearning He's definitely more inclined to have sex than jacking off. That's because he'll actually make time for it. Sae will find ways to clear up his schedule or at least have more time with you—to have sex and to do things other than sex, of course. It's an odd, but helpful, trait of his that he can easily match the libido of his partner. Unless if his partner has an insanely high libido, then you'd probably have to find even ground. But again, it's not hard to get him into the mood. So if you initiate or ask him, more often than not—he'll get down and dirty with you in a heartbeat.
[Z] Zzz He doesn't fall asleep right away because, A) he needs to clean up and take care of you, and B) he just isn't tired enough. Don't get him wrong—good pussy pushes him to the edge, but being well-trained just helps him to not pass out immediately after busting. However, he will fall asleep right away once you're all cleaned up and the bed (which presumably got drenched) is all tidied up. Once you're sleeping soundly in his arms, he'll let himself be consumed by slumber as well.
❤︎ Overall: Sae's quite a good lover in that he puts effort and meaning into sex and that he's constantly improving. He genuinely cares about making it an activity both of you enjoy. 10/10 experience.
©kzyluvr do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms
╰ author's note Actually a bit terrified that I might have butchered Sae Itoshi in this one
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#blue lock headcanons#blue lock smut#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi#sae smut#sae itoshi smut#bllk#bllk x reader#bllk headcanons#bllk smut#♪ ── luvr.fm // works#♪ ── luvr.fm // ABCs
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A proper goodbye.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
SMUT
Summary: Cregan has to leave for the Wall, and the reader hesitates to see him go.
Warnings: beginning of oral (f receiving)
Masterlist
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"How long?" She asked.
Cregan gave a small shrug as he threw together his things. His back was to her, giving nothing away as he did so. "I dunno."
She let out a soft sigh as her fingers brushed across the furs of their shared bed lightly. "And there's no way to convince you to stay?'
Even from just the view of his back, she could see his entire body stiffen. His head moved up, staring at the wall in front of him.
She took the chance, moving forward until her hand touched the man's broad back. She leaned into him, her voice soft against the back of his neck, "Can I at least try?"
A shiver ran down the northernman's spine.
"Aye."
Her arms wrapped around Cregan's waist, her fingers brushing his stomach, making a soft breath escape his lungs. His hands on his bag faltered as he tried to tie it.
"Careful, my girl."
"Why?"
"It might work."
She tugged at his tunic, turning his body to face her.
His eyes were full of lust.
Her hands moved up his chest and around his neck. "My bed will be so cold without my lord husband to warm it."
He looked down at her, trying to keep himself strong. "I'll build a fire before I go."
She leaned into him, kissing his clothed chest, "I'll be so worried about you."
His head tilted. His hands reached up to touch her, but he paused centimeters from her skin, his fingers faltering again. "I'll return unharmed."
"Cregan…"
A questioning noise left his lips.
"How will I find pleasure while you're gone?"
"Don't…" his words died off before they could even be uttered.
She stood up on her tip-toes to brush her lips against his. "Before you go-"
His lips crashed against hers, his hands finally grabbing her by the waist.
An immediate whine leaves her lips as his tongue begins to explore her mouth.
He guided her backwards until her legs hit the bed. He pushed her gently, chuckling as she gasps when her back hits the bed.
He pulled at his clothing, making quick work of stripping to his small clothes before crawling onto the bed. "Let's take this off," he said as his fingers begin to pull up her dress.
She pushed herself up to kiss him. "No time," she whispered against his lips.
He groaned loudly.
A knock sounded at the door, "My lord?"
He pulled away quickly, "What is it?"
"Your company to the Wall awaits you, my lord."
He looks at her then back to the door, "I'll be there momentarily."
She sits herself up, "I'll await your return th-"
A loud gasp leaves her lips.
Cregan had disappeared under her skirt, his tongue licking at her folds.
Her hands gripped at the furs that laid under them as Cregan's movements continued fervently.
"Gods, I'll miss this taste," he moaned against her.
Cregan worked her easily, the movements second nature to the Warden.
…
The company all sat atop their horses, a few fastening the last of their bags to the animals as Cregan walked out to join them.
A few of the men looked at one another, a knowing look in their eyes.
Y/n stood on the balcony, waving goodbye to Cregan.
Most of the time she would give a proper goodbye to him from his horse, but she couldn't trust her legs to take her down there.
That, and the two had already shared a proper farewell.
One she'd feel until he returned.
...........................................
Taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, 8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest,
#fanfiction#game of thrones x reader#cregan stark x reader#house of the dragon fanfiction#game of thrones fanfiction#cregan stark x you#game of thrones x y/n#game of thrones imagine#cregan stark x y/n#house of the dragon#cregan stark#cregan stark x female reader
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Lucifer headcanons PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS (Maybe what most citizens of hell think of him? And how they and the kings react when mc gets close to him?) PLSPLSPLSPLSPLS
I'm not confident in my Lucifer headcanon's since I wrote that Lucifer breeding fic but heeeeeere hhhhh
Lucifer headcannons
NSFW&SFW
Lucifer was once an angel and as angels the assistance of God they help make humans and devils so it would make sense that Lucifer one of God's most prized angels would know a fair amount of human and devil anatomy.
Perhaps he became Hell's greatest doctor because he felt guilt of how much useless slaughter he and his brothers did. So, instead of killing, he wanted to help. And his subordinates, supportive of his dream, became healers and doctors with him.
However, he is still the demon of pride, and he wants to be your primary care doctor, and he will not sway his will. The Kings really don't fight him on this because, well, he is the right person to trust with your health.
My most favorite headcanon (and probably the least true, to be honest) is that since his fall, he is slowly learning about sex and sexual attraction. And you are playing a heavy hand on corrupting him, and he loves it. He was a pious angel; though not perfect to many of his brethren, he was considered highly regarded. And now look at him, fucking you till you cry in an act so obscene that it would make his brothers weep. Corruption kink Lucifer. Go brrr.
He wants to corrupt you, just like you corrupt him, but how do you corrupt someone who is already sinful filth/affectionate
Lucifer sees you as the perfect partner to try sexual acts with because he trusts you the most, and he likes you. That goes without saying. Unbeknownst to you, Lucifer is a fast learner. Once you teach him how to pleasure you, the next thing you know, he'll be making you writhe and scream.
Lucifer is a little bitey during sex. Especially when he is about to come, he clenches his teeth before to stop himself from sinking his fangs into your neck, but he can't help it. He needs to feel your soft skin in his mouth. His favorite places to bite are your neck and your thighs, other than your tears and your cum,. Your blood is the third favorite taste.
Lucifer is on the more serious side; jokes tend to bounce off his head. Especially ones made by younger devils... So much so that he gets angry when anyone mentions any word he cannot understand.
As the demon of pride it is his way or the highway. He can break any rule he wants but you, less you want to be a brat (please do He likes to punish). You may not break any rules of his.
Lucifer is as caring and gentle as he is strict; your tears frighten him just as much as it arouses him. He doesn't want to see you cry if it's not from pleasure. His gaze will grow soft, his voice deep and gentle, calling you cooing as he wipes away your tears.
He still has that little bit of animosity toward you He knows it is not your fault. He tells you straight up that it's because he is an angel. Even though most of it is mostly gone, he still gets a slight sickly pleasure from making you cry; He can't help it. He's a little bit of a sadist when he comes to you.
Everyone knows what Lucifer's penmanship looks like but no one can fucking read it. It's a mess of This is the most doctor shit you've ever seen. To you it just looks like an L and a squiggle written in a shimmering gold font (expensive fountain pen gift from Mammon)
Mammon likes Lucifer in a sort of "ooh, that man is pretty; never had an angel in my collection before." Where when Lucifer sees Mammon, it's mainly with Satan, so his first reaction is "God damn it not again."
He still calls you child of Adam or child of man And he still apologizes for it.
Lucifer is quite the romantic despite now becoming a devil, he thinks that hellborn devils should learn that sex is much sweeter when the tension is right. Basically his version of "these youngsters are still young SMH"
Lucifer unironically likes Twilight.
Lucifer texts like he is a character AI bot with perfect English and punctuation. Good luck trying to text him back because he knows nothing about text slang.
You annoy him so much and he loves it. You're so cute please keep pissing him off he'll still love you even when he kicks you out. He literally can't stay mad at you.
He's wondering how the fuck are you still alive You've been wondering that yourself all these years. Maybe that's why you so protective over your health now.
Dads you a lot. "You have to eat this finish your food it's healthy. Blah blah blah- too much screen time is bad for your eyes." "Blah blah blah-humans should get at least 8 hours of sleep Go to bed- blah blah blah." "Stop eating shitty foods and actually cook a decent meal-blah blah blah." at this point, calling him Daddy is becoming less of a joke.
Also Lucifer: buys you chocolates, takes you to fancy dinners.
Lucifer hates being called Daddy. And he hates that he's starting to like it; please stop.
#whb#whb lucifer#what in hell is bad#whb headcanons#wihib#whb x reader#what in hell is bad x reader#whb smut#smut#whb lucifer x reader#what in “hell” is bad?
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A Bad Idea
Ominis Gaunt x f!reader
Summary - Request by anon for "Would you please write a scenario where Ominis has a secret crush on female MC and accidentally drinks a lust potion. Horny Ominis ensues 😏
Word Count - 2,018
Warnings - 18+ smut, slight degradation, oral sex
A/N - I know this isn't exactly 'accidental' but it's hard coming up with so many reasons for different stories as to why they took the potion
"Sebastian, I've told you this is such a ridiculous idea."
"Come on, admit it, you're just scared." Sebastian teased his friend before placing a mug in his hand. "We're not the only ones doing it! There are guys from other houses doing it as well. Of course, Garreth is doing it since it's his idea. Come on, bottoms up."
Ominis sighed deeply before feeling Sebastian tip his mug from the bottom and forced him to drink the concoction. Garreth had some grand idea to create a lust potion and force it upon an entire group of them. He saw it as some kind of challenge to see how long the lads could stand it before taking care of business.
Ominis wanted no part of it, but somehow Sebastian had talked him into it. He thought that he may have an advantage since he had one less sense that could lead him down the road of temptation.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," the blond coughed at the taste of the potion before jabbing the mug into Sebastian's hands.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other things to do with my day."
Omins made a move to turn away and exit the common room, but Sebastian put a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Actually, my friend, I believe Y/N was coming up to see you." Sebastian's tone was smug and Ominis knew right away he had been set up for his own embarrassment.
He could already feel the tips of his ears getting hot just thinking about you. He had trusted Sebastian to keep his feelings safe and clearly, he had no such plan of doing that.
"You bastard. At least get out, spare me from having you as a witness to me making a fool of myself." He crossed his arms just as you came bounding into the room, calling his name.
Sebastian muttered a half-hearted goodbye before slipping past the two of you and right out the door. You gave him an odd look as he started laughing on his way out before you moved to stand in front of Ominis.
"Is something going? I feel like there's something I'm missing here. Sebastian told me you needed my help with something." When you said that Ominis immediately had thoughts he could not control. He imagined the smooth skin of your thighs as he spread them apart, digging into them with his fingers. He imagined your breathy voice telling him you need him and the moans that followed when he obliged.
He shifted nervously before taking a seat on the couch nearest to you both. He did his best to sit near to the edge, hoping to keep some distance between you both.
"Well, I'm afraid Sebastian is mistaken. I would love for you to keep me company though." He flashed you a smile and tried to steady his breathing. He knew he was playing a dangerous game with himself. He could feel his cock stiffening beneath his robes. Every word you spoke. Every waft of your scent that drifted his way; it all just fueled his fantasies. He was somewhat surprised at how fast the potion had an effect on him.
You eyed him suspiciously before taking a seat beside him as you usually would. Your hip and leg were pressed up against him as you sat near him, leaning over to examine him. He used every ounce of willpower he had to contain a moan from the subtle contact.
"Ominis is something wrong? You look as if you're about to explode. You can talk to me even if you don't think I can help."
He turned towards you, placing an unsuspecting hand on your thigh. He thought that maybe if he just tip-toed around the line and kept close to you like normal it would be enough to quench the ache he was feeling between his legs.
"It's really nothing. You know how Sebastian is. He's just been stirring trouble up all day and I'm fed up with him," he huffed. His anger and annoyance were very real at that moment. You reciprocated his affections by leaning your head against his shoulders with a sigh, "I'm sorry that you had to be his victim for today."
You were extremely aware of his hand that wasn't too far away from your own heat. You had mastered keeping a straight face when he reached out for you, but internally you were on fire thinking about what would happen if his fingers were to slip beneath the fabric.
You put your own hand on his knee as you sat with him in comfortable silence. You had just closed your eyes when you noticed his fingers tapping impatiently against you. His own leg had begun a steady rhythm up and down as well. You took notice of how unlike him this was before determining how to respond. You glided your hand up his leg in a calming gesture, but you froze when you heard a groan fall from his mouth. Your breathing was becoming harder to control as you realized what exactly your hand had stumbled upon.
He was painfully hard inside of his trousers. You had inadvertently just given him one big stroke. To his credit, his cock felt much bigger and thicker than you would have guessed. Certainly different from how you had always pictured it.
"O-Ominis," you stuttered, "I — I didn't mean to —"
When you tried to pull your hand away he clamped his free hand over the top of yours. He lulled his head towards you and you could see how flushed he'd become. You could see the detail in his eyes and the way his glossy pupils had become enlarged.
"Please," his voice was low and filled with arousal. The sound went straight to your core.
"I — Sebastian...Garreth made this stupid potion and I —"
"Oh." you cut him off before he could finish. You had heard Garreth talking about his experiments earlier in the day and thought them to be completely insane. Why would all the boys just want to make themselves incredibly horny to be around one another for the rest of the day? "I heard about that. I just didn't think...I didn't think you would be one of the people to take it."
You gave his cock a squeeze, running your hand down the length once more and he thrust his hips towards your touch. He felt like he was in heaven like this must be a dream, it couldn't be real. "But I...I don't mind helping you out." You gingerly took his hand that was on your thigh and guided it to the thin cotton of your undergarments, shamelessly letting him feel the wetness that had leaked through the material.
"Fuck, Y/N, I'm not sure...not sure I can let you do this. I don't feel like myself and I might be a little rough." His brain was screaming at him as he tried to give you an escape. He was practically drooling when he felt your slick with his fingers, pressing firmly against your heat, but he didn't want you to feel obligated to help him with his predicament.
You spared a brief glance at the common room entrance before you moved off of the couch and onto your knees on the floor. You situated yourself between his legs, carefully pushing them open further.
Small whimpers escaped his mouth as he felt the heat of your body between his legs. Although the initial loss of contact had him frustrated, he was now in disbelief at what it seemed you were about to do. You raised your hands to unfasten the top of his pants while you gazed up at him.
He placed a hand over yours, to give you one more chance, "Y/N," his voice was gravelly, "I'm telling you I can't think straight. I can't be delicate with your pretty mouth. I need it too fucking badly." His voice had evolved into nearly a growl, but you brushed his hand away and prompted him to lift himself up and let you pull down his trousers.
You took his underwear down with them and his cock sprang up in front of you. His head was dripping and you looked at it in awe of the size and all the beauty marks that were placed so perfectly.
He dragged his hand up your arm and then up the back of your neck, grabbing at the hair that was at the base of your skull. He pulled you forward, pressing your cheek up against his length.
He gave you enough leeway to adjust yourself and swirl your tongue over his wet tip. He tugged harder at your head, forcing your mouth over him and causing you to gag slightly from the sudden intrusion.
"Agh, Y/N, you feel so fuckin' good. More, please. I won't ask twice."
You steadied braced your hands against his thighs and made sure to look up at him. His lustful expression was all the motivation you needed. You stuck your tongue out against his cock and slowly stretched your mouth over it to take as much as possible.
Tears pricked at your eyes when he undulated his hips and forced as much as possible down your throat. "Your mouth is so perfect and tight, please, I'm not going to last very long." You began bobbing your head up and down, trying to take more with each attempt, but he was so thick. Even the added help from his pre-cum wasn't enough to make it all possible. You dug your nails into his thighs and he lost himself in your touch.
He started fucking your mouth relentlessly, getting off to the sound of your muffled choking and thinking about how soaked you probably were from doing something so lewd. And in the middle of the common room no less. "Nngh, what would Sebastian think if he walked in on you right now? F-fuck d'you think he and Garreth would try to get in line for you? After seeing you're such a slut?"
Filthy moans rolled off his lips, a light sheen of sweat making his pale skin glow as he assaulted your mouth and talked down to you.
"It's too bad because you're mine. They can watch all they want, but — agh — Y/N, your slutty mouth is mine. I'm so close, I'm close — "
He forced the full length of his cock into your mouth and let out a guttural cry. You had no choice but to swallow his hot seed as it fell down the back of your throat.
"Yes, swallow it, all of it," he panted and he released some of the tight grip he had on you. He instead rested his palm against your hair, stroking you softly. Once you're sure he's been sucked dry you take him out of your mouth and rest your head against his leg, struggling to catch your breath.
You're somewhat thankful he can't see the drool that's run down your chin and over the top of your blouse. "Oh, Y/N," he sounded more like himself now, not plagued only with thoughts of defiling you. He moved to tuck himself back into his pants before leaning forward to pull you back up to seat you on the couch.
"That's not exactly how I wanted this to happen for the first time, but you felt so good. You were amazing." He cupped your face and used a thumb to swipe across your lips, "Are you alright?"
You nodded as you curled against his chest, "Yes, Sebastian was right to come and get me for this task don't you think?" You laughed softly together as he wrapped an arm around you.
"Yes, I — I would not have sought out anyone except you. I hope you know I want more from you than that." He tilted his head so you could see the sincerity on his face, "I like you quite a lot. Perhaps we can make other plans together that don't just include these activities."
#ominis gaunt#ominis gaunt x reader#ominis#ominis smut#ominis gaunt smut#ominis x reader#ominis gaunt x mc#ominis gaunt x oc#hogwarts legacy smut#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy x reader#hogwarts legacy x mc#hogwarts legacy x oc
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so what if mikage reo is running late and crashes to you—a culinary student, also late—on his rush. predictably, the coffee in his hand got spilled all over his expensive coat. unpredictably, you—a scholarship student too busy trying to survive—don't know how rich he actually is and automatically offer to compensate him somehow.
since washing his coat somehow will cost you ten times your rent while buying one is simply asking for a lifelong debt, you offer to him what you do best—your cooking for a full month. at first, reo really doesn't want it as he doesn't mind. also, stranger danger? but since you are adamant enough to even offer him "i will make it in front of you!" he ends up accepting it.
and somehow, as people say, a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. reo kind of falls in love a bit too hard and a bit too clumsily before he knows it. but hey, if the love of his life is offering him lunch with a full-blown smile maybe learning to be a proper domestic husband while juggling soccer and business is worth it.
#1:
"so, is it good?" you asked in the manner of a true excited cook.
reo wanted to say that he knew it would be good even before he put your food in his mouth. or say that even if you offer him to eat a marshmallow that is one fire he will still do it for you at this point. or maybe he really should just blurt out, "it is. please marry me and let me have your cooking for the rest of my life. i love you."
but, reo has his pride as your trusted food tester—so, with a wide grin that was objectively handsome if not a bit too full of love, reo answered, "very! guess, studying and testing all those spices really paid off, huh?"
#2:
"can you guys—" nagi paused, making a face as if he was tasting the words on his tongue, "—just get it together?"
you blinked. "uh? pardon?"
nagi didn't raise his head from his phone. "reo keeps looking at you like he wants to—"
"dude," chigiri interrupted, kicking nagi's leg visibly. nagi grunted, which chigiri ignored him in favor of offering you a nervous laugh instead. "sorry, reo kind of ruined his game yesterday. he kept grudges—"
"hey, reo kicked my head—"
chigiri immediately kicked nagi's shin hard enough that the table shook. you spared the white-haired male a pitying squint as you tried to not wince too much. you really should have gone to pick up the food with reo.
note: aka a post canon romcom au no plot no braincell just vibe of supportive x supportive. it's reo just falling in love with you who offer good food and good mental support. and hey this au entails classic "rich guy tries domestic mundane things he never even touch once" which of course would let to reo getting your guidance (while staring longing at you like a boy in love). at least this is reo, so through sheer power of natural learning capability and also love, he will do it right at the second or third time. oh, of course nagi and chigiri is there. chigiri wishes reo would stop bragging about your food and you if he isn't going to grow a bone and confess. nagi wishes reo would stop hitting him each time you send him an emoji or a praise—reo you are ruining his full combo. aka do you see idiot 1 & idiot 2? there is never too many idiots to lovers. might have went way too self indulgence thinking about this—"after bllk they still go to uni" this kind of thinking should tell you enough how many braincel is present here. but. uh yeah. "i want to support and comfort reo" is a feeling. anyway ok. thanks for reading this blurb i should be doing something else rn but 🫶 yeah have this. take this. love u.
#bllk#blue lock imagines#bllk imagines#bllk x reader#blue lock#blue lock fluff#blue lock x reader#blue lock scenarios#bllk fluff#bllk scenarios#reo fluff#mikage reo x reader#reo x reader#ngl im also manifesting a culinary cutie rn so there is that. but im also manifesting actual mikage reo#but all in all the thought of two kind supportive people finding each other is a nice thought like “you deserves good things”#drabbles#drabble#maybe one day soon#blurbs
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⇝ shadow .
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.
PART TWO OF MÉNAGE.
SUMMARY: All Simon wants is to explain his disappearance to you, but he can't really expect you to be willing to listen.
WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!), Mentions of NSFW, Angst, Pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications, Soft!Dad!Simon.
A/N: Second chapter!! Almost exactly a week after the first one LMAO. No smut in this one, I'm afraid, but some very fluffy moments between Simon and Tommy! <333 Once again, please reblog and comment if you enjoy this, it helps a lot!!!
WORD COUNT: 10k.
MASTERLIST.
Also on Ao3!
You were pretty sure your fingers were about to snap.
The grip you had on the door could rival that of a professional arm wrestler, your whole body stiff and frozen in place as your gaze locked onto Simon's.
Was it even Simon? His eyes didn't hold the same warmth it had the last time you'd seen him, his body wasn't as relaxed as it had felt beneath your touch, his whole frame covered in dark clothing that left his eyes as the only source of light that shone through that shadow of a man.
Well, you couldn't even consider them that, his blue orbs lacked that speck of light you'd grown accustomed to seeing in your son's; it left him looking like a ghost, a shell of a man. But maybe that was appropriate, he never did look like the kind of bloke you'd expect to be kind or sweet, he suited more the idea of a cold, ruthless man that had abandoned you and your son.
Even after having spent a night in his arms, felt the touch of his lips on your skin, memorised the feeling of his cock inside of you; he was still a stranger to you, a man you had idolised so much during the first days after your encounter that he had begun to form into someone completely different in your mind.
And now that he was in front of you, you knew. This wasn't the Simon from your dreams that held you in his arms, the Simon from your dreams that pressed kisses to your swollen belly whenever the baby would kick, the Simon from your dreams that hadn't left.
It was like a slap in the face.
One that brought you back to reality, that flushed away any daydream or idealised version you had of him from your mind, and forced you to focus on the man standing in front of you.
"You-"
"Did you keep it?"
As if you'd been sucker punched right in the gut, you felt the air leave your lungs, the words you had intended to speak sitting on the tip of your tongue like the bitter taste of black tea.
"It? Wh-"
"Him. Our son."
Our son.
It was funny, how he'd managed to say the two simple words that immediately made your blood boil in rage, tears forming at the corner of your eyes out of frustration as.
"Oh, so he's our son now?" You willed yourself to keep calm, but you couldn't help how your voice wavered when you spoke, this whole situation baring to be too much to handle along with your already declining mental state. "You didn't seem very interested before."
"I was gone."
"Oh, trust me, I know." You snarled, your harsh tone causing him to look away from you, whether it was in shock or fear, you didn't care. At least you couldn't feel small beneath his stare if he wasn't looking. "How long has it fucking been, Simon? A year. 9 months carrying your child and 3 months raising him. You have no fucking right to come knocking now and asking to see him."
"You don't understa-"
"I don't need to fucking understand, Simon!" You cried out, your voice ringing down the hall and in Ghost's ears, "I was alone! I am alone! I went through a terrifying pregnancy on my own because you couldn't bother to pick up the goddamn phone! Where were you when I needed you!? Where were you when the doctor told me that the birth might leave irreparable damage on my body!? Where were you when I almost lost him!?"
Silence filled the building, dull ringing in Ghost's ears from how loud you'd shouted, his gaze shifting up from the floor to you, his heart skipping a beat at your dishevelled state, your flushed face and tear stained cheeks, the hand that had been resting on the door now clenching your shirt right above your heart, as if the simple act of talking to him pained you to no end.
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Simon. Sorry doesn't make up for this past year, for all the fucking pain I went through while you were, what, ignoring me the whole time!? Waiting until an 'acceptable' time to show up and fucking demand to see him!?"
"I'm not demanding." You flinched as one of his hands came to slam onto the top of the door that separated the both of you, his hand clenching around the wood hard enough to break it, and you knew that if he wanted to, he could. "I'm asking. I'm asking to see him, for you to let me explain why I was gone."
Your lower lip quivered at the way he spoke, so calm and composed compared to you, who'd let your emotions take control of your words and had just
"I don't know what you went through. I don't think I'll ever be able to understand. And.. I'm, I'm sorry, that you were forced to go through it alone," The apology that slipped through his lips sounded almost forced, like it was his first time hearing and speaking the words out of his mouth. "I'm not here just to see him. I'm here because you deserve an explanation on why I wasn't here. And I know it won't take away the pain, but I ho-"
The door slammed shut.
Ghost was left outside of your apartment, hand still testing on the flimsy wood of your door, staring at the point where your eyes had been mere seconds ago.
You'd closed the door on him.
You'd ripped any chances he'd had of seeing his son and explaining himself to you in half.
He'd gone through his speech for hours in the car, making sure that he wouldn't come off as rude or mean to you, that everything was explained slowly and coherently, but you'd just… Closed the door on him.
It was a funny sight, really. A giant of a man standing in the corridor of a beat down building in the middle of Manchester, outwardly looking like a kicked puppy if it weren't for the fire that was burning inside of him, bubbling beneath his skin as he got the urge to rip the whole fucking door off just so would fucking listen to-
The door opened again, properly, this time. No little gap where he could barely see your full body, where you were able to hide from him in fear that he'd do something disastrous like he'd just been thinking of.
You were letting him in.
That much was obvious, by the way your shaking frame was glued to the wall of the small corridor, allowing him space to cross through into the apartment he'd spent the night in a year ago.
No words had to be spoken, the reluctant look on your face telling him more than enough.
The few steps he took to enter your apartment felt like crossing a border to another world, one that he couldn't recognise as much as he tried to think back to the last time he'd been there.
Everything had changed. The wallpaper with the flowers that reminded him of his grandma's old home had been striped, replaced with a more cool paint over; the dingy sofa where he'd ripped your tights open was replaced with a much more softer and plush looking model, one that could no doubt be pulled into a bed; the bookshelf he'd gotten the sticky notes from had been ridden of many of the books that had littered it, replaced with children's books and a few pictures, baby toys strewn across the floor in front of it.
It felt like a whole different place than what he remembered. He didn't know what he had expected, for you to have a child and for nothing to change? He was aware of the chaos that a child brought, remembering how annoyed he himself had been as everything started to change around him when his brother had been born, the need it brought to rearrange the whole house to accommodate the baby and not have any dangerous items lying around.
Ghost made a mental note to himself as he picked up one of the picture frames from next to the small telly to clean up his own house before bringing his son there (if he was even allowed to), recalling the dust and grime that covered the corners of his rooms, the glass shards from the last time he'd drunk and passed out on the sofa littering his floors.
You pushed the door closed behind you both, shaky hands pressing onto the cool wood in an attempt to ground yourself, trying not to focus on the silent yet imposing footsteps of your son's father.
You don't know what possessed you to open the door, to let him into your space, that he'd now taken over like a shadow. He looked so… out of place.
A demon along the angels, a ghost along the living.
His dark clothes contrasted heavily with the bright colours of your son's toys that laid strewn across the floor, with the soft colours your walls were painted in, with the colourful blankets that you'd tried spicing up the sofa with, despite no one being able to appreciate them other than you.
It didn't feel right.
It didn't feel right to have him here, walking around your home like he belonged there, like he'd been there all along. It was wrong.
You felt like you couldn't breathe, like your throat was closing off and preventing any air from reaching your lungs properly. Your nails dug into your own palms as you clenched your hands closed, trying your best to even out your breathing and focus on anything but the impending conversation you'd have to have with him.
You could hear him say something, but your brain was so caught up with trying to stop yourself from spiralling that it didn't even comprehend what he was saying. The balaclava over his face was moving, indicating that he was speaking, but not a single sound was reaching your ears.
Your body was trembling at this point, mouth gasping for air as your throat continued to constrict, your eyes going blurry with tears as you watched him come closer to you, mouth still moving.
"Breathe." Two hard hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking you out of your stupor bordering on what you could easily identify as a panic attack, ones that you'd been prone to ever since you gave birth. "Look at me. Breathe."
Simon immediately knew what was happening without even having to look at you.
The laboured breaths that were leaving you were enough to activate the alarms in his head, recognising them immediately. He'd heard them many times before coming from him, his teammates, the people whose heads were pressed against his gun. You were spiralling, falling into the harming grasp of your anxiety and letting it infect your body.
When he got a panic attack, Simon rode through it. The therapist that Price had assigned him a few years ago had advised him to consider doing breathing exercises whenever he showed signs of having one, but during the year he'd seen her and the years to come, not once had he considered doing them. Sometimes, he felt like he deserved to feel like that, like he was suffocating, like his heart was about to be ripped out; for all the pain and suffering he'd inflicted on others, he deserved to feel at least a sliver of it.
But the thought of letting you experience that same pain, the same panic, the same hopelessness he felt whenever he'd cave into his depression, it wasn't a good one.
So despite his initial lack of remembrance of the exercises his therapist had offered, he tried his best to talk you through it, hands grasping at your shoulders and squeezing every time he saw you start to slip away back into that pit of anxiety, keeping his eyes on yours through the whole thing, not letting you go until you'd stopped shaking and your breath had become even once again.
You'd been so focused on the anxiety coursing through your veins that you hadn't even realised who was helping you through it, blindlessly following orders and breathing along with him, your brain subconsciously recognising his voice as something to cling onto, to pull you out of your own plunging thoughts.
But as soon as you realised whose eyes you were gazing into, whose hands were holding you down, you panicked again. Your own hands came up to push him away, the action catching him off guard and making him take a few small steps back from you, eyes still fixed on yours.
"Are y-"
"Shut up." You breathed out, interrupting him for what seemed like the 100th time that night, mimicking him and taking a few steps away from him and wrapping your arms over your upper body. "Sit."
Ghost finally tore his stare away from you to look down at the sofa, hesitantly taking the first steps forward like a cat meeting its owner for the first time before finally taking a seat on the sofa, sinking into the plush pillows thanks to his weight and looking around from the new perspective.
"Do you normally have panic attacks?" He spoke up, thankful that you didn't interrupt him this time, voicing his concern.
You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down at your fuzzy socks as you thought back to all the times you'd had to go through them on your own sitting at the doctor's office, lying in bed after putting Tommy to sleep, looking at yourself in the mirror after your labour…
Your doctor had warned you about the rollercoaster of emotions your body would go through after giving birth, including the depression many women suffered that unfortunately had affected you too during the first few weeks; but you hadn't expected it to continue until this late.
"...sometimes." You mumbled, hands running up and down your arms as you squirmed beneath his glare. "It's normal. For a lot of women."
He didn't answer, nodding in response instead before turning his head to the side table, where a small picture of a very tiny Tommy sat, his hand itching towards it to take it in properly.
The silence that followed what you could barely call a conversation was unbearable. The tension that hung in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, the silence almost suffocating you as you tried to muster up the courage to speak up if he wasn't going to, despite him having almost broken down your door in order to talk.
"...so? Are you going to explain?"
Simon stayed quiet, the whole speech he'd rehearsed back in his car suddenly fizzing away from his mind like a shooting star in the night sky. He was left with barely an outline of what he wanted to say, a vague idea of everything he'd tried his best to put into words before seeing you.
But actually having you in front of him, sitting on the same sofa he'd once pressed you against, gazing into the eyes he'd once thought so much about before the start of that god awful mission, made every last thread of sanity that remained in him snapped.
He was sure that without the mask he'd look like a fool, mouth slightly open and half lidded slate blue eyes fluttering with every blink, transfixed by the vision that was you, in front of him.
"Look, if you're not even going to fucking talk, you can just go right back out the fu-"
"I can't tell you exactly what happened." You stopped mid-rant, cheeks burning in embarrassment after being the one who was interrupted this time. "My job doesn't allow it."
His job? Was he really blaming everything on his job? What kind of goddamn profession forced you to go radio silent for a whole year?
"What do you work in?"
"..." Simon regarded you with a poignant sheen in his eyes, clearly at odds with deciding what to say, the truth or what he had been taught to recite in a situation like this. "I protect."
Even if he didn't outright say what his vocation was, you could do more than assume.
Protection could mean many things, like working at one of those security alarm companies to working as a bodyguard for some fancy rich guy, but with one look at the man sitting in front of you, you could tell.
And it was terrifying.
You'd assumed he was some type of bodybuilder when you'd first saw him, but as you recalled his tactical steps as he walked you down the street, the way his hand flew to his belt when you'd pass some creepy looking guy, as if he was expecting something to be hanging from there, it all started to click.
You had two options before you. He was either a fucking mercenary or military. And although both options were terrifying on their own, you hoped to whatever god that was looking down on you that it was the latter. You wouldn't know what you'd do with yourself if the father of your sweet baby boy was some type of criminal.
"You protect?" You let out, careful with your words in case you said something that you shouldn't, terrified with the prospect of him getting annoyed or angry now that you had an idea of what he did for a living.
"I protect." He parroted, lifting his hand to shove it into one of the pockets that adorned his jacket, pulling out a slim laminated piece of paper, what you could only assume was some sort of identification. "Here."
You took it hesitantly, flipping it over to scan your eyes over the confusing words that lettered the ID, mostly all words you'd never heard before in your life, but you were smart enough to grasp the concept of it.
"You work in the army?" You question, finger running over his title, repeating his newly discovered last name in your head, cursing at yourself for even thinking of how normal it would sound led by your son's name.
"SAS. Lieutenant. Can't say more than that." His gloved hand came back up to hopefully grab his ID back, but you dodged him, taking a few steps back and flipping it back over so he could see what you were pointing at.
"There's no picture." You finally referred to the black space that filled what was supposed to be a headshot of whichever soldier's ID it was. "How… how do I know this is real?"
You watched the mask move as he furrowed his eyebrows, the hand that had fallen onto his knee now gripped at the cargo pants, his eyes showing the disbelief that shot through his body.
"Y'think I made a fuckin' fake ID?" He grunted out, lifting himself from his spot on the sofa and glowering down at you, who did your best to not stand down almost immediately out of fear of his massive frame. "I don't carry 'round a picture of my face, defeats the whole purpose of my fuckin' mask."
You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried coming up with some type of rebuttal that would shut him right up, but you ended up once again asking another desperate question.
"That doesn't explain why you were gone."
Silence.
The crickets that sang from downstairs, the sound of the creaking from upstairs with every step one of your neighbours took, the suddenly suffocating feeling of your tiny apartment, everything seemed to increase ten fold with every second that passed.
"I can't tell you much." He leaned his head back, twisting his neck to a side to reveal some of the hair that had grown down to below his chin after a year of not properly shaving, making you look away from what almost seemed like an invasion of privacy.
"Oh, fuck you." You let out an amused scoff, unbelieving that still after everything that had happened in the short amount of time he'd been back, he still refused to say anything. "Go to hell, Simon."
"I was on a fuckin' mission. A long one. I wasn't allowed any devices, like always, so I couldn't get back to you." He looked back at you with a glare that easily rivalled yours, voice rising in volume with each word he spoke, clearly pissed off at how you were acting with him despite having tried to explain himself, but deep down he knew that it was expected from you after what you'd gone through, yet he still couldn't help but feel disappointed deep down.
"Don't raise your fucking voice at me, I'm not the one who's at blame here, Simon!" You shoved a finger into his stiff chest, doing barely as much 'damage' as you pretended to, but you did your best to get your point across.
"I'm not raising my vo-"
A high pitched cry cut through both of your raising voices, Simon's hand immediately going to his belt out of instinct while you whipped your head in the direction of Tommy's room, wincing in both fatigue and shame for having forgotten about your poor, sensitive to noises baby boy.
You put a finger up before Simon could even get the idea of heading there first, an authoritative glare on your face as you grew 10 times braver now that it came to your son's mood and well-being.
"Stay." You hissed, almost like you were reprimanding a mutt instead of a grown man. "Don't fucking follow me."
Once you were sure you'd gotten the message across, you pulled yourself away from his gaze and quickly entered your son's nursery, cooing and shushing at him as you neared his crib.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, duck, I'm sorry." You whispered, carefully picking up his fidgeting body in your arms and pressing him to your chest, rocking him as gently as you could in your told. "Mommy's sorry, she didn't mean to scare you."
His crying didn't cease, only getting louder as you desperately tried to get him to quiet down, terrified of the racket he was no doubt making for the next door neighbours, who'd probably come by tomorrow with some not very nice words.
Your hands were shaking as he still didn't calm down, a shiver running up your spine while goosebumps racked your body as you saw the light that came from the living room be blocked by a large mass of what you could only assume was Simon.
"I told you not to follow." You kept your voice small as he took slow steps towards you, not wanting to agitate Tommy even more than he already was, knowing how enervated you'd be in the morning if that was the case.
"I want to see him."
You bit down on your tongue before you shot out a snappy response, realising that this was not the time nor the place for snarky comments, as much as you wanted Simon to finally get a hint and leave you both alone.
"You haven't even told me his name."
Screwing your eyes closed, you pressed Tommy to your chest a bit tighter, both to calm the two of you down and in an attempt of caging him away from the shadow of a man towering behind you.
"You never asked for it." You felt him stop behind you as you spoke, his eyes staring holes into the back of your head, as if that would finally get you to move so he could see his son.
He stayed silent once again, looking over every single detail in the nursery, from the row of knitted stuffed animals to the plastic fluorescent stars stuck to the ceiling above the crib, eyes trailing over the bookcase that looked a bit too unstable for his liking, the screws too loose to be holding up all that weight properly.
"Did you build these yourself?" Simon watched you turn your head over your shoulder to see what he was referring to, glowering at him crossly as you looked over the furniture.
"Didn't have anyone else to do it, did I?" You snapped, going back to the crying baby in your arms as he continued to look around, gloved fingers running over some of the spines of the books that laid on the shelves, recognising some of them from his own childhood bookshelf.
"You still don't believe me, d'you?"
A beat.
The finalising sound of his footsteps exiting the room made a weight you hadn't realised was pressing on your chest dissipate out of relief, only to come back heavier than ever as he pushed the duffle bag he'd been carrying towards you with his foot.
You looked down at the spilling contents tentatively, almost worried that there was some type of danger in there that would force you to take cover or cower in a corner, but all you found were military pants and clothes, a gun hidden in its holster, and in the hand that slowly appeared in the corner of your vision, dog tags.
"Look." He brought them up closer to your face so you'd be able to see even in the dim lighting that came from the fluorescent stars stuck on the ceiling and the small nightlight, the name engraved in it identical to the one you'd found on the ID. And although most IDs were pretty easy to fake, you were pretty sure dog tags like these weren't. They had the SAS' inscription on them along with a few codes and numbers you were too ignorant about the army to understand; but for all you knew, they could be as fake as the ones some men wore as fashion.
Maybe that still wouldn't have been enough, if it weren't for the gun. England was very strict with gun laws, and the only people you'd ever seen handle one were the police and the military. So he'd either gotten one very illegally or was truly who he said he was.
And as much as you wanted it to all be fake, for him to be the random bloke you'd had sex with that had no connections to anything dangerous, you knew it wasn't. It was blatantly obvious now that he'd laid down everything in front of you like a puzzle, he was telling the truth.
And god, how much you hated it. You hated that the so-called excuse he'd used before was close to being set in stone by now, that everything was falling into place.
"They're real. I promise."
His promises meant nothing to you, and he knew that, but he had to try anything he could for you to finally believe him, to pull down the walls you'd built and let him in.
"..." You looked away from him and his outstretched hand, pulling your still weeping baby closer to you as you debated on what to do, mind torn between two headspaces.
A shaky sight left your lips as he finally started to tone down, his small pudgy hands grabbing at your sweater in an attempt to ground himself, to find a smell and feel he knew brought safety.
"...his name's Tommy."
You felt him freeze behind you, the aura around him growing cold almost immediately, like you'd just blatantly insulted him without any remorse.
"Tommy." He echoed, voice scratchy as if he was dying of thirst, body suddenly feeling like it had been dunked under tiding waves. "Why?"
"Why?" It was your turn to repeat what he'd said, turning around fully and allowing him the first proper look at his infant son.
Any feeling of displeasure or uncomfort left Simon's body as his eyes landed on the small boy whose teary eyes were trained on his mother's, soft hands clinging onto her like all hell would break loose if he weren't, pudgy body wrapped up in soft blanket decorated with a tiny duck print, the animal something he'd heard you refer to him as before.
God, he wasn't even listening anymore, too enamoured with the small being that lied in your arms, his hands itching towards him in hopes of taking him in his own.
His stomach sank as you stepped back in tandem with him, shielding Tommy from him like he was a monster.
"I, uhm…" you looked up at him through glassy eyes, clearly having been taken aback by his sudden advance towards you both, ending with you pressed against the wooden crib's side. "I didn't really think about it. It just… felt right. It sounded nice. There isn't really any… meaning behind it, as far as I know."
And that was true, as far as you knew, Tommy was just one of the names you'd underlined in one of the many baby name books your mother had brought over with her. But for Simon, it was oh so much more than that. It brought back memories that he hadn't thought about in a very long time, including those rough times he'd spent cooped up in that godforsaken house trying his best to take care of the only family he had left.
And although he hadn't heard from his brother in a long while, he couldn't help but feel slightly hollow at the simple thought of him, who now unknowingly shared his name with his new nephew.
"...right." Despite everything that was whirling around in his brain, every single memory and doubt he wished he could share without destroying himself inside out, that single word of confirmation was the only thing he could get out.
Tommy let out a whine, small hand tugging at your shirt as he instantly pulled your attention back to him, small body fidgeting in your hold in a way that would make you drop him if you weren't used to his urge to not stay still.
"Yeah, I get it, duck." You said, balancing him carefully in the crook of one of your arms before picking up the half-empty bottle you'd placed next to the crib, knowing he'd wake up within the little time the milk could sit out and demand to be fed with his startling cries. "It's here, don't worry. You're not going to starve."
Simon watched from the shadows as your son immediately latched on to the bottle, acting like he'd been starved for over a week, when his last feeding session had been barely an hour ago.
"He's very greedy." You mumbled, mostly to yourself, but looked up at Simon as he let out a humoured exhale.
"Most babies are." He said, remembering how needy his own little brother was when it came to feeding, whining and screaming until everyone in the house had woken up.
Silence fell upon the room, the only conceivable sound in the house being the sound of Tommy drinking and the soft jingle of the crib mobile whenever a soft gust of wind came through the parted window.
For the first time in the hour Simon had been back in your life, you felt calm. Your heartbeat had come down to a normal rate, your body had stopped jolting and shaking every now and then, and there was a small smile tugging at your lips as you watched your son cling to the bottle in your hands.
Even Simon's presence had stopped putting you on edge, since now he was just silently gazing down at his son, who's eyes were fixed back on his father's, almost like they were both having a staring contest, and it was unclear who was about to win.
Tommy normally bursted into tears when he was near a stranger, too many new scents and sounds around him since he was used to the calmer and soother environment that was his nursery, so apart from the short strolls you'd take down the streets, he barely went out with you, and when he did, he didn't get to met many new people. You remember how embarrassed you'd been when one of your neighbours had come by to help with fixing a light and Tommy had started bawling at the mere sight of the unfamiliar man standing in the doorway.
So it was a bittersweet surprise when you realised he must've taken an instinctual liking to his father, despite not properly having the brain capacity to regard him as such, and although you'd have plenty of time to go over that later, for now, you were relieved that he hadn't turned to wailing as loud as he could and bursting all three of your eardrums (although if Simon did work in what he said he did, you were sure he'd be used to loud noises by now).
"How d'you pay for all this?"
"What?" You said, the calm expression that had graced your face quickly forming back into the pissed one he'd gotten so used to seeing in the past hour, the innocent yet aggravating question instantly spoiling your mood. "What do you fu- what do you mean?"
"The furniture, the clothes, the nappies." He nodded towards every single thing he listed, only adding onto your annoyance even more. "Where d'you work?"
You snapped your head down to Tommy in order to avoid his damaging questions, meeting the cute scene of your son fast asleep, probably having passed out after such a long staring contest with his dad and finally having a full belly. You ignored the weight of your impending answer as you placed him down carefully back into his crib, letting his chubby cling onto your fingers for a bit before slowly wrenching his grip off, turning back around to his father.
"I don't work. Not anymore." You kept your voice hushed, picking up the empty baby bottle along with a bag of dirty nappies, standing next to the doorway until he got the memo to walk out before you. "Got fired from the bar cause I was too distracted and I messed a lot of things up…. Had to use my savings to pay for everything during my pregnancy."
He watched you walk around the kitchen and put everything away like it was routine, like it was some sort of art that you'd perfected, while thinking over the information he'd just received from you.
He felt horrible. The mere thought of you, pregnant and alone with no job able to support you, working on the crib and nursery on your own was enough to tear his cold heart in two. And he didn't even want to think about how much money you had left, which by the sight of the very expensive-looking cot and all the toys that laid strewn across the bedroom floor, wasn't much.
He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back onto one of the walls and thought about the next words that were going to leave his mouth, the next words that would either end up with you both growing closer together or you continuing to push him away.
"Let me help you."
You stopped dead in your tracks while rearranging one of the cupboards, turning around with a look of disbelief painted on your face, beyond bewildered at what he was even starting to proffer.
"Help me?"
Simon had more money than he knew what to do with. Albeit, a small part of it was sent to his brother and his family at the end of every few months, he was still left with a huge amount of money he didn't really know what to spend it on apart from on the bottles of alcohol that littered the floor of his apartment.
But now that he'd learned about his own family, seen the state your flat was in despite you trying to save face by decorating it as much as you could, about as much information as you had given out about your financial situation, he finally knew what to do with all that money that was left over.
"Help you. Financially. Tommy's my son too." Simon raised a gloved hand up as he watched your mouth open, immediately shutting you up like a teacher would a student. "As much as you want to deny it, s'true. And I'm going to help you." His finger landed on the small island counter, accentuating his point with every word he spoke. "Whether you like it or not."
Now, you'd be bellow stupid to even refuse an offer like this (even though he'd made it quite clear it wasn't an offer, more like an insistence), especially since your bank account was quickly reaching negative numbers with every day that passed, not a lot of jobs being open to a new mother who'd either have to take her baby everywhere or leave between shifts to take care of him (and a nanny was of course out of the question, with what money would you pay them?); and pushing aside your still initial distrust towards him, you couldn't say no to him. Both, because he wouldn't let you and because you needed the help, as much as you didn't want to admit it.
Very deep down, you wanted to say no, to push him out of the flat like you should've done when he had first taken a step inside, that he'd had his chance with both Tommy and you and that his bloody stupid excuses weren't going to work… but god, would you have been a moron to even consider letting those words leave your mouth.
You closed the cabinet shut, turning around to face him properly despite the absolute nerves that were coursing through your body, looking out the window across from you instead of at the imposing figure of the man standing before you.
"Simon, I… Look, just…." You tried changing subject, grasping at straws in order to keep yourself from falling to your knees and thanking him for helping you, to break down again like you'd done within the first quarter hour of seeing him again. "...thank you."
He didn't reply, only nodding in response as he turned away from you, letting you stare at his back as he cocked his head to a side to subtly look into Tommy's room, your small baby boy still fast asleep with his clingy hands holding onto one of the many toys you'd placed in there for him to stay entertained with.
"It's, uhm… it's getting quite late." You pointed out as you looked back out the window, rain pattering against your window as another one of England's classic showers hit your city, your arms wrapping around your torso and running your hands up and down the exposed skin. "How about we just… call it a day and talk about it tomorrow?"
Simon grunted, shrugging his shoulders like he really didn't care, but before you had chance to comment on it, he spoke over his shoulder, his head tilted in a way that the shadows curved around the balaclava covering up his face, his blue eyes slightly brighter than when he'd first shown up.
"I've got some stuff to attend to tomorrow." He muttered, nodding towards the duffle bag that he'd brought out with him when you'd both left the nursery, indicating that he wasn't fully finished with work. "It'll be a while 'till I'm able to just sit down with you."
God, you hated how much fear that single sentence struck in you. Like almost the thought of him leaving for more than a day after finally showing up and explaining everything to you was enough to raise up the anxiety that wrapped around your chest and travelled across every single nerve in your system.
So fucking pathetic. You thought to yourself before looking over at the sofa, the new one you'd bough and arranged yourself a few months into your pregnancy, when you were barely showing and could still handle physical work like that; remembering how much the salesman had insisted on that the pullout was the best option for when you had guests over, it was moderately comfy and big enough to fit up to two people.
And Simon kind of… He kind of counted for two people, right? With that bloody stature of his and his darned accentuated muscles you'd been so in awe of that fateful night.
"You can just take the sofa for tonight. Then we can talk in the morning before you leave." Your mouth acted faster than your brain did, but this time, you didn't really feel embarrassed or disappointed in yourself, I mean, it was the logical solution to this sort of problem. He'd made it quite clear that he wanted to be in his son's life, so if that was true, you'd have to get used to him being around you, invading the safe space you'd worked so hard to create for you and your son, as much as it tore your body and mind apart thanks to your mixed feelings about him.
"You sure?" He pushed himself off the doorframe which he'd been leaning on, getting back to his full height so he could tower over you, glancing at the tiny sofa. "You think I'll fit?"
"It pulls out." Unlike you. "You'll fit."
Once again, it seemed that he couldn't even get the words out to thank you, nodding in response before turning back to look at his sleeping son in the nursery's background. You pushed past him to get to the cupboard that sat in the corner, rummaging through it for some relatively clean and warm blankets, keeping an ear out just in case decided to walk a bit too close to Tommy, still a bit on edge when it came to him spending time around your son.
"D'you have a balcony I can use?" He cut through the silence, dangling a packet of cigarettes in front of your face to make his advances clear.
Although you weren't a chronic smoker yourself, you had indulged in a cig once in a while, and you knew that it sometimes did help soothe your anxiety or stress, and by the looks of how Simon was fidgeting in his spot and his fingers were clearly itching towards the lighter in his pocket, it was quite clear he was in need of one.
"I don't. Use the window furthest from Tommy's room." You pointed out of the room towards the window you'd been staring out of before. You watched him stroll out, opening up the window and letting in a gust of cold wind in the process, making you speed up your work so you could close the door faster and Tommy wouldn't get a chill.
"You can't smoke around Tommy, you know that, right? If you're really going to be in his life, I'm going to need you to quit while you're here." You commented as you placed down the blankets onto an armchair before moving onto the sofa bed itself, removing some of the cushions before resuming.
"'lright." He muttered between a few inhales of the smoke, his voice much clearer now that he'd pulled his mask up to his nose, letting you gaze upon the beard that had grown over his lower face, something that hadn't been there before. But you assumed that a year-long mission wouldn't really allow you to take time to shave. "Jus' really needed this."
"I get it." You grunted as you grabbed onto the flimsy handle at the bottom and pulled out the second part of the sofa's mattress, almost landing on your behind if it weren't for one of Simon's hands on the small of your back, helping you regain your balance before he went back to taking puffs of his cigarette next to the window.
Soon enough, Simon's cigarette burnt down to a stub, flicking it out the window and down onto the concrete below, turning back around to where you were finishing up what would be his bed tonight, tucking in some of the ends of the sheets and stuffing pillows into covers.
"Here." He spoke, his voice back to being muffled as he pulled the mask back down, taking the pillow from your hands and pushing it into the cover without any effort.
"Pillows might be a bit stiff. These are really old." You didn't even bother thanking him, taking the pillows and fluffing them up to the best of your ability, before propping them up on the armrest. "Do you want to, uhm." You gestured towards the black smudged paint around his eyes. "Clean up?"
"It's fine. I've slept worse."
He started to pull off his jacket, his shirt going with it for a moment and exposing his midriff and happy trail, immediately snapping your head away from the sight.
That's how Simon ended lying on the pretty well made sofa, shoes and jacket discarded next to him with a thin blanket draped over his tired body, balaclava still resting over his face despite being plunged in the darkness that was broken whenever a car passed by outside or by the soft glow of his son's fluorescent stars that decorated his ceiling.
Simon was aware of how long he'd gone without having a good night's sleep, that he should at least try to catch a few minutes of sleep at best, but he couldn't find the energy to even close his eyes. He knew that after such a long and exciting mission his body had to come down from it slowly, taking a few days of getting used to the sudden serenity that enveloped him before he could fully relax and find some sleep.
And so he lied there, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and listening to the snores that came from his son's room and the shuffling and incoherent murmurs that came from yours, the constant affirmation that you both were fine enough of a substitute for the sleep he was missing.
And he was… content like that, for a while. Listening to the both of you sleep and tapping his fingers against his chest in an attempt to ground himself and to shove away any unwanted thoughts that would forcibly make their way into his already broken mind.
Until one of the cars outside backfired, a sound Simon had gotten used to after driving all those barely working cars they'd find in the way during missions, producing a sound that echoed throughout the living room, making Simon instinctively flinch, his fingers gripping down on the blanket hard enough to rip it, not having expected to hear a sound so akin to a bomb or a grenade while he was lying down calmly near his newfound family.
Fuck, he was pathetic. It was horrible how such an innocent sound made his instincts go haywire, his skin prickle with goosebumps and his heart skip a beat.
But clearly, as Tommy's cries rang out through the flat, he hadn't been the only one to be disturbed.
"Fuck." The blanket pooled down onto the floor next to his discarded clothes, pushing himself off the sofa and passing by your bedroom, where you were still presumably sleeping, your body wriggling beneath the covers as your brain attempted to keep you asleep.
You'd mentioned that Tommy had gone down easily this time, so it was relatively early for yourself to go to bed, and he'd heard you mutter to yourself as you climbed into bed that you were going to enjoy your rest, so staying on the sofa and waiting for you to wake up, was not going to happen, especially after all the trouble he'd gone through with convincing you to let him in Tommy's life.
This was part of being a father, a parent, waking up at ungodly hours of the night to take care of your fussing baby.
He carefully made his way towards Tommy's crib, removing his gloves in order to not scare him with an unknown touch, although he doubted that his calloused fingers would be any better substitute.
"S'alright." He murmured, a finger softly prodding at his chubby belly in order to catch his attention, the boy's wails only getting louder as he caught sight of his father's skulled balaclava. "Oh, fu- Look, hey, look at me."
Without any hesitation, Simon ripped off his mask, his hair getting messed up in the process but he couldn't care less, only focused on getting his son to recognise him as a human man and not the goddamn grim reaper who'd come for him.
Tommy sniffled as he toned down the fussing, blue eyes darting all over his father's face as if committing it to memory, chubby fingers leaning down to grab at the one Simon had woken him up with, and much like he did with any other thing he found lying around, shoved it right in his mouth, drooling around it.
A breathless chuckle escaped Simon's mouth as he watched him roll and fuss around his finger, resting his other arm on the crib and lying his head against it, transfixed with the sight of his small son.
A few tears were still running down his chubby cheeks, but he seemed to have calmed down now, Simon's finger acting like some sort of replacement for the pacifier that laid abandoned next to him.
"C'mon. Stop cryin'." He grumbled, pulling his finger out of his grasp and placing his large hands beneath Tommy's small body, carefully picking him up (making sure to support his little head like he'd seen you do) and propping him up in the crook of his arm, letting him squirm around for a bit until he found the perfect position. "You're a wriggly one aren't you?"
As expected, he didn't get any response apart from the thousand yard stare his son looked up at him with, similar to the one he occasionally gave Johnny to watch him freak out. Now that he did look at him closely, he could pinpoint how many features he'd inherited from his father's side, his shaggy hair, his blue eyes, his slightly crooked nose, even the chubby rolls and fingers he remembered seeing in his little brother.
"That's a boy." Tommy's eyes started to droop with every second he spent lying in his father's arms, his tears drying out and coos leaving his mouth instead of the agonising cries. "Feelin' better?"
He blindly walked over to the small chair he'd spotted in the corner of the room when he'd first walked in, grunting like his grandfather did as he sat down, careful to not squish or drop Tommy in the process, his hands tightening around him as the chair slightly reclined, the chair's feature catching him off guard and instantly activating the instinct to protect the small human in his arms that depended on him.
But Tommy didn't even flinch, giggling at the warmth that enveloped him and snuggling further into the blanket and his father's arms in the process, eyes still fixed on the dark paint that adorned his father's.
Finally, after their second staring match of the night, Tommy's eyelids finally closed, losing the battle and falling prey to sleep, something Simon silently wished he could too. Resting him in one arm, he pulled his balaclava back down, feeling a bit too exposed now that the need to have it off had ceased. He leaned his head back on the rest and stared up at the dim glowing stars, focusing on the steady breaths that racked his son's tiny body and the faint feeling of his heartbeat against his arm.
He could… he could really get used to this.
Having such a small thing in his arms, something he was responsible for, something he was supposed to love and care for, a purpose to continue the dangerous life he'd thrusted himself in. He was a father now. And although he knew barely nothing about being one, he'd learn. He hoped it wasn't a one time thing and that Tommy had truly taken a liking to him, that he was going to be able to take at least a bit off the load that you carried by helping in whatever way he could, whether it was bonding with his on or simply financially if that's all you wished of him.
He was a bit too lost in his thoughts as he reclined further in the plush chair, pressing Tommy to his chest so he was half lying on him, half still resting in his arms, a pretty comfortable position for the both of them.
"-mon."
"Simon!"
The blond was jolted awake by a pair of hands shaking him, his immediate instinct being to search around for the baby he remembered falling asleep with, blurry vision darting around to find him cooing and gurgling in your arms, hands latched onto your sleep shirt.
He turned to look out the window while cracking his neck, disoriented and confused about what time it was, the subtle sun rays that shone through the clouds and into the nursery telling him enough.
Had he fallen asleep? Like, actually slept for over an hour without waking up or any disturbances?
"'m sorry." His voice was deeper after a good night's rest, you noted as he rubbed his eyes with the bottom of his palm in an attempt to clear the blurriness, choosing to ignore the click of your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "Time?"
"'bout eight." You said, bouncing Tommy in your arms as you nodded towards the clock that hung up above him, eyes darting back down to see him hunched over, hands beneath his balaclava rubbing away the sleep in his eyes and no doubt spreading the face paint everywhere. "Tommy needs to have breakfast so I just assumed you'd want to be woken up as well. But, you're, uhm, welcome to sleep longer, I guess."
"No, I'm fine. I have to get up." Within a second, he was at his feet, Tommy staring up at him in awe as if he were gazing upon a giant, one of his chubby hands leaving your shirt to try and grab onto his, but Simon had left before he could even make first contact.
"You stayed here to talk, remember?" You said snappily at him as you followed, watching him pick up all his stuff. "We should talk."
His shoulders deflated mid tying his boot, a solemn nod in response like even talking to you was a chore, and after the night you'd had the day before, any little irritating thing like that was going to be enough to set you off.
"I want to be a part of Tommy's life. I've made that clear."
"I know. And that's… fine. But we're going to need boundaries."
He sighed, turning around with his other boot dangling from his hand, leaning his side on the wall opposite what had been supposed to be his bed for the night (the horror you'd felt when you saw him gone and your son's door open was unmeasurable), and nodding once again, eyes looking down at you expectantly.
Oh. Right. You were the one speaking.
"Well, for starters… if you really can't tell me more about your job than you already have, I want you to at least keep me updated whenever you leave for work. I.. I don't want any more surprises."
I don't want to feel the way I felt during that year again.
"Alright."
You nodded, pulling Tommy closer as he became enamoured with the necklace that dangled from your neck, trying his mighty best to pull the charm in his mouth as you talked. "And, if you stay over, you take the couch. And not taking Tommy out without me. Until… further notice." You feared you were being a bit too strict with him, but simply reminding yourself that this was in fact, basically a stranger who just happened to father your child, and you'd have to take preventive measures until you were sure that you could leave Tommy alone with him.
Simon ignored the slight pain that stabbed at his heart when you said that, but… it was understandable. You'd been with Tommy longer than him, hell, you'd carried him for a whole 9 months, you had a stronger bond with your son than he had. For both of your safety and his, he'd go along with anything you'd say.
After agreeing with a simple nod and finishing tying up his shoes, he walked up to you both, fingers brushing against your clavicle as he pulled your necklace out of Tommy's mouth, blue eyes fixated on yours. "Send me your bank details later. I'll deposit some money for you both. As much as you need."
He hesitated a few moments before pulling his fingers away, instead running them down Tommy's nose bridge before pulling away, pulling a giggle out of him.
"O-okay."
He nodded, leaning down to zip up his duffle bag before strapping it over his shoulder, jacket in his other arm since it was relatively warm outside for a morning in Manchester. "Text me if y'need anything. I'll answer this time… I promise."
You winced, the subject of his disappearance still a touchy matter despite everything you'd both discussed the night before, but by the way he hesitated before speaking, the way he was awkwardly standing in the main corridor, he was either very obviously lying or telling the truth.
You hoped it was the latter.
"...okay. Goodbye, Simon."
The moment the door opened, the doorbell rang out, making you and Tommy flinch at the loud sound and Simon grumble at being the main victim of the ringer.
Your neighbour was standing there, finger on the bell, furrowed eyebrows glaring up at the intimidating man.
"Good morning?" You poked your head around Simon's large frame, Tommy hiding his face in the crook of your neck as if able to sense the confrontation about to happen. "Is everything okay?"
"Uh, no. Sorry, just. I think I speak for everyone in this building that we'd appreciate it if you'd keep that baby o'yours quiet once in a while. Barely gotten any sleep these days 'cause of his bloody crying." He frowned, glaring down at the baby in question, as if he was truly to blame for something he was barely able to control. Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment, having remembered that you'd already expected this last night when Tommy had burst into tears the first time, and then the second time when you were asleep.
"Right, I'm s-"
"Babies cry." Ghost interrupted, glare fixed on the man in front of you both, hand tightening around the doorframe much like when he'd been trying to convince you to let him in. "Y'can't really help it."
"Well you can shut him up-"
"And we did. Wondering if I'm going to need to do the same to you." He said gruffly, almost puffing his chest out of pride when he saw the man's colour drain from his face. It was a bit of a shitty rebuttal, in hindsight, but when it came from the beast of a man that he was, it was enough to make a grown man like the one in front of him piss his pants. "'m I?"
"N-no, sir."
"Sorted." He watched the neighbour scurry off back into his apartment like a bug of sorts, turning back to you with an amused glint in his normally inexpressive eyes. "Bother you often?"
"Yeah." You said breathlessly, actually impressed with how quickly he'd been able to get rid of him, like your own personal pest exterminator. "Thank you."
"He won't anymore." He stepped out into the hall, sparing you and your son one last glance before awkwardly lifting his hand up in an attempt to say goodbye, Tommy immediately trying to reach over to him with a plump hand, fingers flexing as if trying to use the force to pull his dad back.
"He'll be back, duck, don't worry… he's not leaving."
Ghost pressed the button to the elevator, willing himself enough strength to not turn around immediately at the sounds of his soon cooing and whining at him, the soft words you spoke plunging a spear into his cold heart.
He'd be back. He promised.
TAGLIST: @selfassassin @ess-perspective-blog @crazyfandomist @webreathfandoms @warners-wife @prodyng @gaycrystalbitch @warrior-of-justice @uhhely @mentallynot-here @jordanwalkersworld @skepticalleo @bratsukisworld @screamingoverfiction @comedinewithmeyeh @gojosbucket @mikasakuchiki @jonhswife @tea-effect @thelittlejinx @cafesho @daddylorianisastateofmind @63sucker (if your name is in italics it means I couldn't tag you!)
#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x fem reader#ghost x female reader#cod mwii#call of duty#ghost x you#ghost fanfiction#ghost x fem!reader#ghost fic#cod mwii x reader#cw pregnancy#— ménage
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒
𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧
— NSFW, MDNI. dick sizes!
warnings: metric system 😭 grab a ruler LOL fem bodied reader as usual!
a/n: no one asked for this 🤍 but i wanted to write it! dedicated to my fellow piwontober mooties 🫶 first time doing bulleted format i am just too lazy to write a full fic rn (edited a day later bc my post root canal thoughts have changed!)
keeho
- we have already established that i'm a monster cock keeho truther
- 24.5cm, or about 9.5in. pretty girthy, veiny, and all around just a massive dick. it hangs even when he's fully hard 😭
- he knows how to use it!!!!
- he's done a lot of research about the cervix, and female anatomy in general so he knows how to fit it all in. trust me.
- he still prefers to go super slow though 🫶 he loves feeling you clench around him!
- and feeling every inch while he slowly drags it out of you is perfect
- he's a big fan of deepthroating, but let's be real it takes a ton of training to get him more than halfway down your throat
theo
- 15cm, or about 6in. very pretty, slightly curved, perfectly average. and yes he does get waxed
- ngl theo is def the type of guy who's heard "it hurts when it's too big" before!! 😭
- it did not bruise his ego fortunately 🙏 it just made him more motivated to get better in bed
- def gets pussy drunk, it's not intentional, he's just sensitive
- bonus but i think his cum tastes good
jiung
- 19cm, or 7.5in
- just Slightly above average, nothing particular to note about how it looks
- he's super proud of it though ok 😭
- one girl called him too big ONCE and now he's got an ego
- it's ok tho he has the skills to back it up!!!!
- he's super into deepthroating 😭 luckily he isn't too big for that to be an issue it is an issue.
- he definitely makes it a mission to make every hookup of his squirt at least once so they'll never forget him
intak
- 14cm, or about 5in
- he goes at it like a dog, man 😭
- he fucks like a rabbit i swear!!!
- so it's a good thing he is perfectly average. a little on the veiny side, and slightly curved upwards
- hits your gspot perfect
- the kind of guy you fuck & marry!!!
shota
- he is my favorite don't get mad
- i write him with a big dick all the time ok 😭
- 11.5cm
- the .5 is important don't forget to measure it!!!
- he still feels so deep when he's inside you though he's girthy as fuck
- he's a munch so he doesn't think it really matters how good he is with his dick as long as he can please you
- but trust me he can please u with his dick too 😭
- soulie makes u cum more than 5x every time you guys fuck ^-^
- but maybe i'm just biased
jongseob
- 20cm, 8in.
- i will not be elaborating much
- he's thin, very pretty, veiny, and just Lord he has the perfect dick
- he will make u see heaven when you're together 🙏
#kissoulie yapathon#p1harmony smut#p1harmony x reader#jiung smut#jongseob smut#choi taeyang smut#intak smut#keeho smut#haku shota smut
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The Act of Stealing a Loved One |2| (Stanley Pines x Reader)
This chapter is a flashback. So are the others. Enjoy! It's super long lmao
Story Guide
It was the Summer of 1972 when you first met Stanford. You remember it almost all too well. You went to a college for the arts, majoring in music composition. Oh! And you were in a band! It was not good by any means, you all were figuring this out as you went but you were all having fun so it didn’t really matter to you. It’s kinda funny looking back on how the two of you somehow became a couple considering how different the two of you were.
You two only met after you accidentally stumbled in his room one night after you partied too hard at someone else's dorm. You thought his room was your friend's room. His dorm had books scattered around, posters of some scientists on the wall and an absolute mess of notes on his desk. Stanford did not want to spend his night with some random drunk girl in his dorm, but he knew he had to let you in, not trusting what any of the other men on the campus would do if they saw you like this. He didn’t know why you made him so flustered, maybe it was your vulnerable state, or just because you were a girl, talking to him.
It was probably both.
“You know, I never wanted to go to this, it was some promotional stuff for my band. Did I tell you I was in a band? We are amazing!” You were laying on the floor staring at the ceiling smiling goofily, flipping onto your stomach to look at the flustered man whose dorm you broke into. He took a glance over his shoulder to look at you, trying to tell you he was listening, even if you didnt care if he was or not. “Okay so that might be a lie, Gabs is super pitchy, Jamie is still figuring out the drums but that's besides the point..I met you by going to this!” you finally sat up running a hand through your hair “You're so dorky it's kinda cute” you let off a soft giggle pointing at him.
This made Stanford physically freeze, his breath hitching slightly “Thank you I suppose, Are your friends looking for you?” He quickly changed the subject, turning around in his chair, looking at you “I think, I dunno… I kinda wanna stay here with you” you smirked. “Well I-” he started before he heard a female voice yelling in the hallway “Y/N! We gotta go!” “Oh that's Gabs! She’s my friend!” You stumbled up before heading towards the door, pausing before going back over to the man kissing his check with a giggle, causing Stanford's face to turn bright red “Thank you for saving me! I’m Y/n by the way!” “Um… It's Stanford, Call me Ford..” he managed to get out, quickly writing the phone number to the telephone that was in his room, down on a piece of notebook paper. “Just.. Call me when you get to your dorm safe..” he quickly turned back to face his textbooks he had his nose buried in hours ago “Aw you care about me… Okay loverboy. Seeya around!” you poked his shoulder before leaving, yelling at your friend ‘Gabs’ to get her attention
Ford had no idea why he did that, he never had the balls to do this sort of thing. Especially with someone as beauti- No why the hell was he having these thoughts? You weren't going to call him. He has to forget about this encounter, he concluded, going back to his uneventful night.
He got a call the next day, it was you. There was some sort of music in the background, he couldn't place what it was, some pop music maybe. “Oh my gosh is this Ford? I kinda crashed at your dorm last night, I am sooo sorry I am super embarrassed.” you rambled on before Ford let off a slight chuckle “No it's fine. I’m glad you're safe, you seemed very out of it last night” he leaned back in his chair slightly as he spoke “Ugh don't get me started about the hangover” you groaned causing him to laugh.
After that was the beginning of a relationship, you spent your off time together, he helped you with classes and you expanded his music taste, well tried to at least.
It's been 4 months since you two started dating. Ford even told his brother about this, and to say Stanley was shocked was an understatement, he rushed over surprising Ford “So you finally found a girl who doesn’t run off screaming? Tell me all about her” Stanley smirked looking at his twin brother, noticing a photo of you on his desk in a frame, you had a microphone in your hand giving a peace sign to the camera with your other hand. How the hell did his brother score you? Ford went off to ramble about you, he was a love sick mess, but the way his eyes kept shifting to the photo of you when explaining you made Stan confused, why did he have to keep looking at it to talk about you?
He noticed a few flyers to some music festivals, they looked untouched. “Who gave you these?” he picked one up, the show was for tonight, in a few hours. “Oh Y/n did. She’s in a band” Ford looked at the flier before directing his attention back to the textbook that was in front of him “You plan on seeing her right?” Stan raised an eyebrow looking at his brother “Too busy, I have an exam tomorrow” Ford shrugged it off flipping to the next page in his book “You’re joking right? Have you been to any of her shows?” Stan narrowed his eyes in disapproval, Ford didn't say anything “Some boyfriend you are” He muttered looking down at the flier in his hands. He knew what he had to do, he wasn’t going to let Ford ruin the only potential relationship he would probably ever have.
Taglist: @bluepanda08 @slay-thou-pookie @karmaisacatluzi @fries11 @marvelous-maniac @cherryblom @leo4242564 @zuzzybakaemperiment
#stanford x reader#stanford pines x reader#stanley x reader#stanley pines x reader#gravity falls x reader#stan x reader#stan pines
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NSFW Alphabet - JJ Maybank
author's note: all of these are my own thoughts, if you do not agree with it that's completely your choice and right to do so.
kinktober masterlist ✘ template
Aftercare - will make sure you are hydrated, asks you if you need food or cuddles. makes sure you have all you need and want, even if you tell him to leave, he won't impose on you. he will carry you to the bathroom tho, no matter what you say bc 1. he doesn't trust your legs to work no matter what you say. 2. he doesn't give a shit if you pee in front of him because “I was literally inside you just a few minutes ago”
Body part - total boob fanatic. however thighs and tummy (especially when you have a few rolls) is his absolute dream. he loves those curves.
Cum - he comes pretty quickly and a lot, also with not much effort on your end a lot of time, like he creams his pants from eating you out every. single. time. and before he actually started to date and all, he didn't care too much about it all which means he also didn't mind that his cum was tasting nasty af, but since then he researched and tries to have a somewhat healthy diet as much of that is possible for him. but he does bank on that pineapple juice anytime he gets his hands on some.
Dirty Secret - has probably fucked more cougars than girls his own age, and although he would love to go tell everyone, he can't risk getting killed by one of their husbands.
Experience - pretty experienced, knows his way around a woman. will sometimes need a little time to get acquainted if it's a recurring partner, but even as a one-night stand, he won't leave you hanging. he kinda gets off on the fact that he makes every girl/woman come at least once.
Favorite Position - backshots, no matter if he has you pinned down or pulls you up flush to his chest or literally anything he can think of to do to you, bonus points if he gets to kiss you once in a while. he's also a major sucker for cowgirl, he loves to let you use him, praising you if you like it and once you have at least one orgasm in he'll take over without letting you off him. sometimes he'll sit up in between to hold you close, kiss you, suck on your tits, whatever he feels like. but I'd also go as far as to say, once he's 100% emotionally linked with you, he needs to fuck you in missionary once in a while to just bathe in how perfect you look underneath him, incapable of moving away because he's putting all his weight on you 'cause he wants to feel your tits against his chest and he wants to swallow every little sound you make for him.
Goofy - he definitely has his serious moments, but he's more goofy because he knows he can get away with it. he'd be saying the most cringe worthy shit while starting to fuck you, especially that first thrust that has his mind in shambles. but after a first few moments he's not serious, but he also won't joke around because he's gotta focus on giving you all you deserve. he's also definitely more cocky than goofy, especially when he's fingering you, double especially when it happens in a (semi-)public space
Hair - he stole an electric trimmer from a kook once, and that's his go to. he doesn't like it clean-shaven, but a few millimeters are okay, also he doesn't want you to get turned off from all the hair when you wanna suck him off. but his light blonde pubes aren't as visible anyway, so he's got that on his side if he forgets to or doesn't have time to trim
Intimacy - he's all in with a serious partner, full eye contact if the position lets him, heated kisses and slow strokes to tease you more. he's a secret romantic, so don't mind if you come home to the house littered with half burnt candles that he stole collected from anywhere he could find them. with a one-night stand, he doesn't really care about that aspect, and you'd never catch him doing missionary on one of those nights. he also doesn't kiss one-night stands, because kissing is way too intimate to him when it happens during sex. “That's how you fall in love, when you fuck her and kiss her at the same time”
Jack off - at least once a day. he could go without it, but he chooses not to. the only reason why he wouldn't jerk off daily would be having a partner to fuck available basically any time he needs to blow a load.
Kink - doesn't know he has a mommy kink until it either slips out of you in a joking manner, or once you guys have kids on the way. same with daddy kink tbh. definitely has a breeding kink, although he knows kids aren't what he can handle at his age, but that doesn't stop him from giving you a nice cream pie anytime you let him. thank God for birth control.
Location - shower sex is his favorite by far because he can make as much of a mess as he wants without having to clean afterward, he's pragmatic like that. he also loves a quickie in a restaurant bathroom or in a changing room stall while shopping, he's not very picky.
Motivation - literally anything you do. you just leaned up to get something from the top shelf? boner. you smile at him and wave? boner. you bend down to pick something up? boner. you walk and sway your hips? boner. there's nothing you can do that won't turn him on. he literally has to restrain himself all the fucking time. other than that, no bra, or tiny bikinis, that show off his favorite girls. or when you lick your lips or bite down on them and all he can think of is the pretty picture of your luscious lips wrapped around his cock.
No - I think he has yet to find something he wouldn't try out.
Oral - pussy king Maybank™ he's a munch. the king of munches, possibly. he eats pussy like a pro and will keep eating you out until you pass out from overstimulation. he loves blowjobs too, obviously, but eating you out until your throat goes sore from screaming his name, is his favorite way of giving you a sore throat.
Pace - he does it all, it really depends on his mood. angry!JJ is all fast and rough, not really caring for how you feel unless you use the safe word. but generally he's more sensual unless you ask for something specific. he was never a big fan of slow sex until he got soo drunk one night that it was the only thing he managed to do without loosing consciousness over how over the moon he felt, since then he tried a few more times and uses it to torture you or to fuck you for longer periods of time.
Quickie - loves quickies. since he can come pretty fast, it's not an issue for him, but he is always trying to up himself and make you come just as quickly so he can later fit two quickies in the time it took for two before.
Risk - he loves to experiment and take a few risks, not always calculated. which might end up with you going into subspace on accident, but he takes care of you after.
Stamina - he can go for long if he paces himself, but he'd rather fuck you for a long time with quick rounds one after the other. his refractory period goes against zero, so he's ready in no time and doesn't even need to pull out unless you ask him to.
Toys - first he didn't own any, but with time his collection grew, especially toys that aren't turning into a hygiene nightmare in case he switches partners. he's a true supporter of the “toys are your friends, not enemies” of it all. at one point he even gets a kit to make a dildo that looks just like his and gifts it to you for your birthday.
Unfair - he's a tease for sure, but although he's cocky af, he needs a partner who one ups him in that. the subby side in him needs to be played with accordingly, which means lots of teasing and edging.
Volume - he's loud when it comes to blowjobs, basically giving you a concert, but while fucking you he’s definitely quieter, rather wanting to hear you than himself. unless you turn the whole spiel around and dominate him, that's when he really starts to show his colors, whimpering and begging like it's his last day on earth.
Wild card - he talks you through it, will even go as far as helping out his friends and just sit by your side while his friend fucks you and he soothes your mind
X-ray - he's long and thick, but not massively so. definitely above average, but not in a way where you get scared that he would impale you with it. not too balls-heavy either, just generally a good look all together. he's also cut and has played with the idea of getting your name tattooed on the length of his dick. or to get a prince Albert piercing, if the pain wasn't taking him from doing it, he would have that one already.
Yearning - super high sex drive. but he doesn't yearn unless it's for his partner. starting to date you and not fuck you on the first date was a challenge for sure, but he held out, getting by with hand jobs in the night and at morning, maybe even over the day until you let him closer like that, but from that moment on he couldn't stop thinking about you, ever.
Zzz - if you tell him you're okay and don't need anything, he'll be out in a matter of seconds. he'd even fall asleep on top of you, still buried deep inside you, if you let him.
please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho
taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi
#jj maybank#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x reader#kinktober#kinktober 2024#~kinktober24#my writing#jj maybank headcanon#~headcanon#jj maybank headcanons#jj maybank hc
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Light It Up! — K.HJ, P.SH
STORY SUMMARY: The year is 2077, and the world is a lawless dystopia where tech giants and major corporations hold all the power. Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa are an infamous criminal duo who have made names for themselves fighting against the "techno brainwashing" of society. Discovering they're on the brink of getting caught, they decide to go out with a bang—and who better to help them than their favorite plaything?
PAIRING: Kim Hongjoong x F!Reader x Park Seonghwa
RATING/GENRE: M ; smut ; criminal / cyberpunk / dystopian AU
WORD COUNT: 4.4k
WARNINGS: Arson, breaking and entering, clubbing, alcohol + drug use, pet names (doll, precious), rioting, violence
NSFW WARNINGS: Choking, creampie, cum stuffing, cunnilingis, deep throating, exhibitionism, fire play, fingering, free use, hair-pulling, knife play (light), multiple orgasms, play party, public sex, spitroasting, sub drop, threesome, overstimulation
A/N: Don't blame me, blame the MATZ m/v.
LINKS: Masterlist, cross-posted on AO3.
“And… there!”
After days of meticulous planning, organizing, and making shady, back-alley deals, it’s finally done. The last camera is in position—everything is ready for the big event. All that’s left for you to do is step back and admire your work.
Switching on your illegally procured holodeck, you press a few buttons and watch as the space around you completely transforms. What was once an abandoned warehouse is now a club that could rival any in the city center. Neon lights pulse to heavy synth, serving bots whiz from place to place, and the makeshift bar looks inviting enough with rows of expensive bottles on display. Whether or not the liquor in the bottles is worth the price, well… Hopefully people will be too distracted to notice.
The focal point, the one thing you are most proud of, is the transparent stage that extends at least 15 feet above the dance floor. Taking in the grandeur of it all is more than enough to get you excited for what's to come. You're certain that Hongjoong and Seonghwa will put on the performance of the century.
Today is incredibly important for both of them, and the fact that they have trusted you enough to include you more than makes up for the long hours and strenuous work. They’re currently out setting up their "grand finale," which they have been painstakingly cryptic about. You have your suspicions, not that you need or even want to know the specifics.
A low whistle pierces the air. "You really outdid yourself this time, doll."
You turn to look at Seonghwa as he enters, and your heart practically skips a beat when you take in his appearance—he must have changed in preparation for the big event. His hair, pulled away from his face, lets you focus on his features; dark eyes, full lips, all beautifully accented by his smoky makeup. His outfit is one you haven't seen on him before, but it suits him perfectly, from the gold chains hanging around his neck to the deep cut of his silk shirt.
"Thanks, Hwa," you reply bashfully, dusting off your hands on your jeans. "Just trying to do my part."
He approaches you, a smirk tugging at his lips. The way he stares at you, drinks you in… it makes you feel like a prey animal who has found itself in the sights of a predator. You blush and cast your gaze to the floor, suddenly fascinated by the specks of dirt at your feet.
"And you have done it spectacularly." He lifts your chin with his pointer finger, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "I think you deserve a reward."
Seonghwa drops his gaze to your lips for just a moment before he leans in, closing the space between you with an almost agonizing slowness. The kiss is gentle and commanding all at once and you shiver, immediately pulling him closer. The fatigue, the stress—all of it melts away.
His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling on it with just enough force to make you gasp. His tongue slides expertly against yours, the taste of him something sweet and darkly rich, like cherry liquor. It’s addictive. But the moment ends too soon for your liking, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.
Seonghwa doesn’t pull away entirely, resting his forehead against yours as he lifts a hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. He lets his touch linger as he traces a path down your neck, lithe fingers playing with the necklace dangling above your chest. Three dainty, silver hearts. One for you, one for Seonghwa, and one for—
The rev of a motorcycle engine cuts through the air, and your head snaps toward the sound just in time to see Hongjoong park his bike at the door. He takes off his helmet and shakes out his hair which you’re surprised to see is freshly dyed. It almost makes you laugh; of course even as he’s out running errands for his coup de grâce, he finds time for fashion.
“Not starting the party without me, I hope?”
Hongjoong’s heeled boots click pleasantly atop the concrete flooring as he walks over to the two of you. His synthetic fur coat is a bright orange, the complete opposite of what one might expect a criminal on the run to wear. But both he and Seonghwa have never been ones for hiding.
“Never,” Seonghwa replies, clapping a hand on the back of the younger’s neck. “Did you get it done?”
Hongjoong scoffs in a teasing manner. “Did you doubt I would?”
“Of course not.” Seonghwa squeezes Hongjoong’s neck once before letting go and clapping his hands together. “Looks like it’s time for the show.”
A few hours later, the party is in full swing. The once-empty warehouse is now filled to the brim with people dressed in cloaks and masks for the sake of anonymity. Some are on the dance floor, grinding against each other, while others have drifted toward the bar, downing shots and laughing.
Toward the back of the room, there's a group huddled around a table, huffing glitter, black lace, and who knows what other kinds of drugs. Meanwhile, others are tangled together on couches, lost in the throes of ecstasy. The air is so thick with the smell of smoke and sweat that it almost makes you dizzy.
A hand wraps around your neck from behind, pulling you against a warm body, and you gasp. “That’ll be us later, precious,” Hongjoong whispers, hot breath fanning against your ear. Your nervousness ebbs away, immediately replaced by eagerness. “Do you like watching them? Or maybe you’d prefer to be the one being watched?”
You lean back against him, the hand around your neck a welcome pressure. “Both,” you breathe.
You feel his chest rumble with laughter. “Good.”
He separates from you, and you turn to face him. He seems so confident, so excited, that it’s hard to believe he and Seonghwa are about to paint targets on both of their backs. Hit by a wave of anxiety, you lean forward and kiss him. He immediately reciprocates, nipping at your bottom lip and eagerly exploring your mouth with his tongue.
Kissing him is always different than kissing Seonghwa. Seonghwa’s kisses are controlled, with a hidden power brewing behind them. There’s always a promise of more, a hint at what is to come when he finally lets go. On the other hand, Hongjoong kisses with reckless abandon. He is uninhibited, always ready to devour you whole. When he pulls back, a string of spit hangs between you before snapping.
“You nervous?” You nod, and he gently tweaks your chin between two fingers. “Don’t be. Those tech bastards have no idea what we have in store.”
“I just want the two of you to be safe.”
“And we will be,” he assures you. "After everything goes up in flames. Trust me, precious. Trust us.”
“I do.” And it’s true. You trust them with everything that you have.
“That’s our girl.” He kisses you again. “It’s time to go live.”
You take out your holodeck, and with the click of a button, all the cameras you set up switch on. You hurriedly switch channels through all the local stations, thrilled to see that it worked and the entire club is being streamed live to every device in the city.
You stop the music and make the lights go out, causing a hush to fall over the crowd. You shine one beam of light directly onto the stage and you watch as Seonghwa steps out to address the throng of people below. He is captivating and has no problem commanding all of the power in the room.
“Welcome one and all,” Seonghwa begins, voice booming over the speakers. “If you’re here, it means you are brave enough to fight against the corporations that enslave our society!”
Hongjoong steps up next to him, and while he’s smaller in stature, he exudes no less power. However, he stays silent as Seonghwa continues, “We will not be silenced any longer. Tonight, we raise our voices in defiance; we will no longer bow down to those who seek to control us!”
The crowd explodes into thunderous applause but immediately falls silent when Hongjoong raises a hand. "But tonight isn’t just about the revolution—it is also a celebration of our freedom, our individuality, and our unity. So let loose because everyone in the city is watching and we all know that, deep down, they wish they were us!”
Cheers and shouts fill the room once again as everyone raises their glasses in solidarity. Your heart swells with pride as you take it all in. You have become a part of something far greater than yourself and, just like your boys, you are willing to do whatever it takes to see it through to victory.
You switch the music and lights back on and the party resumes in full force. People seem to go even harder than they were before, playing up their hedonism for the cameras. Seonghwa and Hongjoong have disappeared into the crowd, likely to mingle and spread their message one-on-one.
Seonghwa favors the dance floor, hypnotizing those around him as he moves. A contented smile tugs at the corner of his lips as his hips sway to the beat, as beautiful as he is provocative. He flits from person to person, holding them close as he whispers into their ears. He occasionally catches you watching him, always making sure to tease you with a wink.
On the other hand, Hongjoong stalks the perimeter of the room, moving from group to group. His skill lies in charming people with his words, and tonight is no different. Everyone who speaks to him smiles and laughs, completely enamored with everything he says. He shakes hands, claps shoulders, and you have no doubt that if people weren’t loyal before, they will be when he’s through.
You stick to one of the quieter corners of the room in order to keep an eye on the cameras. You need to make sure that everything is running smoothly both in and out of the club; the last thing you need is for someone to reveal your location or try to hack into your network and ruin everything. You also keep a close eye on your boys, making sure they stay safe.
It’s past midnight by the time they come and find you. Hongjoong sits on your left, placing a hand on your thigh as he leans toward you and kisses your cheek. His lips linger a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he purrs, “You should be out there, dancing, having fun.”
“I am having fun,” you say, taking the champagne glass offered to you by Seonghwa.
Seonghwa sits on your right, throwing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. “You would be having even more fun if you put down the holodeck.”
“But—”
Hongjoong takes it from you, throwing it haphazardly onto the cushion beside him. “Don’t argue.”
He leans forward again, this time lightly nibbling your earlobe with his teeth. You gasp, knuckles turning white as you tighten your grip on your glass out of instinct. Seonghwa watches the two of you with half-lidded eyes, his hand trailing down your side and slipping underneath the hem of your shirt to trace patterns over your flushed skin.
“It’s a night for celebration, doll,” he murmurs. “You have done your job. The only thing we need from you now is… well, you.” He squeezes your hip and you jump slightly. “The badges will be here in a little over an hour according to one of my sources. While not as long as I’d like, it gives us just enough time to have a celebration of our own.”
Your thighs clench in anticipation—you know exactly what he’s hinting at.
"Lead the way, then," you say, setting your half-empty glass down.
Seonghwa’s gaze meets Hongjoong’s over your head, an unspoken agreement passing between them. They stand up and pull you toward the dance floor, surrounding you, one at your front and one at your back. You sway between them to a slow, seductive rhythm, closing your eyes as you let yourself enjoy their attention.
Seonghwa’s hands rest on your waist, pulling you against him as he starts to move his hips in tandem with yours, grinding against you. Meanwhile, Hongjoong cups your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip. His eyes are dark and intense as he captures your mouth with his own in a searing kiss.
Seonghwa’s grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin as he watches Hongjoong devour you. He keeps one hand on your hip while the other snakes around to cup the back of Hongjoong’s neck, causing the younger to moan into your mouth at the touch. Now with a possessive grip on you both, Seonghwa gets to work nipping and marking the exposed skin of your shoulder.
The room seems to disappear around you as they continue to explore you, their mouths and hands feeling like they are everywhere at once. It's intoxicating, even more so than the champagne you were drinking earlier. You feel Seonghwa’s hand trail even lower, disappearing under your waistline, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin.
You gasp and Hongjoong laughs against you, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Let’s give them a good show, hm?”
You let the two of them drag you onto the stage, cheeks ablaze as you realize exactly what they’re planning. You’re hyper aware of the fact that you are being watched; even though most of the club-goers are lost in their own pleasure, the viewers that are steaming have nothing better to do than keep their eyes locked on you.
Seonghwa clicks his tongue, squishing your cheeks between his fingers. “Look at our girl, acting so shy.” His fingers find your heart necklace, tugging at it just hard enough to make you gasp. “As if wearing this doesn’t mean we can do whatever we want to you, whenever and wherever we want.”
Hongjoong takes a switchblade out of his pocket, flipping it open with a maniacal grin on his face. He uses it to cut away your clothes, exposing your body for everyone to see. Your knees shake and whether it is out of anxiety or anticipation, you can’t tell.
He traces the tip of it against your skin, the cold metal leaving goosebumps in its wake. “We know you love it, precious,” he says. “Don’t you want everyone to see how good we make you feel? Think of all the viewers out there that will feel oh-so-scandalized but still won’t be able to look away. Not to mention all the greedy whores who will be getting themselves off to us, wishing they were in our places.”
Seonghwa pulls you against him just like he did on the dance floor, once again letting his fingers tease his way down your stomach. But this time, he lets them travel even lower, dipping into your folds.
“Look how wet you are just from this,” he remarks, bringing his fingers back up and spreading them so you can see the evidence of your own desire. He then extends them to Hongjoong who greedily laps at them, sucking them clean.
You whine, trying to keep your legs closed from embarrassment, knowing anyone below the stage can look right up at you and see exactly how aroused you are. But Seonghwa won’t let you, shoving his knee between your thighs. Almost instinctively, you grind down on it, letting another pathetic sound slip past your lips.
Hongjoong’s eyes glint with wicked delight at your reaction, his own hands reaching out to cup your breasts. “Someone’s eager,” he teases, tweaking a nipple between two fingers.
You hear a few wolf whistles from the crowd, a few lewd comments being thrown your way, but they only make you more excited.
“I…” You’re panting heavily, making it hard for you to speak. You have to take a deep breath before trying again. “I want you. Please.”
“Anything for you, doll,” Seonghwa coos, returning his attention to your core. He pushes in one finger all the way to his knuckle with no warning and, if it weren’t for his hold on you, your legs would have buckled.
“Fuck.” The curse slips from your lips, half whimper, half moan, as he continues pumping his finger inside your wet heat.
Hongjoong lowers his head, taking one of your nipples in his mouth as he pinches and tugs at the other. You grip his shoulders for purchase as your head lolls back to rest on Seonghwa’s chest, whining at the onslaught of sensation. The feeling of Seonghwa inside of you while Hongjoong lavishes his attention on your breasts is unlike anything you have ever felt.
As Seonghwa adds another finger, Hongjoong’s lips mark a path from your breasts, to your stomach, and then lower as he sinks to his knees in front of you. He grabs your thighs, fingers digging into your skin, just as his tongue finds your clit. His tongue draws figure eights around it as Seonghwa continues to pump his fingers relentlessly inside of you.
“T-too much…” you gasp. But neither of them slow down—if anything, feeling how close you are makes them double down on their efforts. Hongjoong sucks your clit into his mouth at the same time Seonghwa adds a third finger, curling them inside of you.
Seonghwa kisses the back of your ear, his hot breath making you shiver. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs.
That small bit of praise is all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge, eyes rolling back as your body goes taut with pleasure. Hongjoong eagerly laps up your release, only prolonging your orgasm. Seonghwa gently removes his fingers from you and you hear rather than see when he brings them to his mouth, tasting yourself on his skin.
Hongjoong pulls back, licking his lips to clean them of your release before his trademark smirk returns. “I think it’s time for you to return the favor, precious. Don’t you think, Hwa?”
Seonghwa trails a hand down your spine, humming. “I don’t know if she can handle it.”
“I can,” you gasp, eager to please them just as they did you. “I can, I promise. Anything you want.”
You almost jump from surprise as some spectators in the crowd start yelling their vulgar suggestions as to how exactly they think you should please your partners. You’re sure if you looked at your holodeck, the live chat would be filled with similar comments as well.
Hongjoong laughs, grabbing your face in his hand. “Don’t worry about them. You can have us however you like.”
Blushing, you say, “You choose.”
His eyes light up and he immediately looks behind you to Seonghwa. Just like earlier, some sort of silent communication passes between them, and then you feel Seonghwa’s hand on the small of your back, urging you to bend over.
“Why don’t you show our Joong what that pretty mouth of yours can do while I fill you up, hm?”
You barely have enough time to nod your agreement before Hongjoong is unbuckling his belt and freeing himself of his constraints. You nearly salivate at the sight of his cock, red and wanting. He grabs your hair and pulls, tugging you forward as much as he can with Seonghwa’s bruising grip on your waist keeping you in place. Tears prick at your eyes but it’s as pleasurable as it is painful, and you take him into your mouth eagerly.
The head of Seonghwa’s cock teases your folds before he finally pushes forward into you. He starts moving at a slow, torturous pace, pulling out of you before slamming right back in. Each thrust propels you forward, forcing you to take Hongjoong deeper into your mouth. You feel so full, so used. It’s incredible.
“Look at her,” Hongjoong coos, staring down at you. “Look at how well she takes us.”
Seonghwa just groans, grinding into you so deeply that you have to choke back a moan around Hongjoong’s cock. He’s gotten quieter, his thrusts sloppier, a telltale sign that he is losing himself in his own pleasure. Meanwhile, Hongjoong’s grip tightens around your hair, guiding your head back and forth on his length. Each thrust cuts off your air supply, making you see stars.
Seonghwa’s hand snakes around to your front, fingers finding your swollen clit. You moan again, and Hongjoong echoes you as the vibrations travel up his cock.
“Shit,” he curses. “So fucking good.”
Seonghwa’s thrusts grow increasingly erratic and you hear his breath hitch; instinctively, you clench around him, and he spills into you. His release sends you spiraling into your second orgasm of the night, walls fluttering around him as you milk his cock of every drop.
Hongjoong pulls out of your mouth not long after, squeezing the base of his shaft to prevent himself from following the two of you over the edge. The second Seonghwa steps away from you, he is taking his place, forcing himself inside of you before any of the elder’s cum can drip out.
“Hongjoong,” you gasp, nearly falling forward from the force of his thrusts. Seonghwa maneuvers himself so that he can support you, holding you in his arms as Hongjoong pounds into you with bruising force.
“Gonna fill you just like Hwa did,” he growls. “Make you mine. Ours. You’re ours.”
“Can’t… can’t…” Words escape you, your mind going blank.
“Yes, you can,” Seonghwa says, stroking your hair. “You can take it. You can come for us one more time.”
His voice is comforting, but you also hear the command in his tone. You choke out a sob, nodding weakly as Hongjoong guides your hips back against him again and again. You can feel another orgasm coming on already, the coil tightening in your stomach. Seonghwa continues to murmur words of praise, stopping only to pepper kisses along your heated skin.
The coil snaps and you cry out as you come undone, Hongjoong’s cock still buried deep inside of you. His hips stutter and he curses, his warm release mixing with Seonghwa’s. He slowly pulls out and you can feel as some of their cum trickle down your thighs. You collapse against Seonghwa completely, no longer able to stand on your own two legs.
You feel light-headed and blood pounds in your ears, muffling the cheers you assume are coming from the crowd. You’re too far gone to be embarrassed, and a lazy smile tugs at your lips—the three of you surely gave them the show of a lifetime.
Suddenly, you feel heat lick at your skin, and you snap back into yourself fully, cringing away from it. Your eyes focus, and you see Hongjoong flicking a lighter open and closed, open and closed.
“There’s our girl,” he remarks. He brings the lighter to your skin again, just close enough for you to feel the heat of it without it burning you. “I think we were a bit rough with you, precious. You were totally out of it, shivering and everything.”
Seonghwa is behind you again, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. You press further against him, squirming as the heat tickles your skin.
“Back with us?” Seonghwa asks.
You nod. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.”
“Okay. Hongjoong—enough.”
Hongjoong stops immediately, flipping the lighter closed with a tsk. “Fine. It’s gonna get hotter in a minute anyway.”
Now that you’re focused, you finally hear the shouting and crashing coming from below. The very people who were just watching you on stage are now rioting, destroying the warehouse and everything in it. The cameras, the bar, all of your hard work—now there is just destruction, everywhere you look.
You shoot up, hurriedly dressing yourself so that you are no longer the only one naked as panic begins to take hold. “What’s going on? Seonghwa, Hongjoong, we need to—”
You waver on your feet, nearly tripping. Luckily, Seonghwa catches you. “Calm down, it’s okay,” he says, hushing you. “This is all part of the plan.”
Hongjoong gestures to the crowd, pointing out some things you missed. “See how some of them are drenching the place with gasoline? We’re gonna light it up.”
Maybe you’re still delirious from your multiple orgasms, but you are having trouble understanding what the two of them mean. “Why? I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”
“This was all a distraction,” Seonghwa explains. “The club, the livestream, us putting on a show. We did it so that all eyes would be on us, and all the badges would be wasting their resources trying to find our location.”
You nod slowly as the pieces begin to come together. “So, while I was setting all of this up…”
“We were out there. Planting bombs at some of the biggest tech headquarters in the city.” Hongjoong smiles, spreading his arms wide. “Our coup de grâce, just like we’ve been saying.”
Despite all of your suspicions, this is something you never would have been able to guess. Before you can even begin to truly comprehend the magnitude of what they’ve done, sirens pierce the air. Everyone screams and begins to run out of the warehouse. Seonghwa grabs your hand, and nods to Hongjoong. “Now!”
Hongjoong throws his lighter to the ground below and flames erupt instantly, devouring everything in sight. Luckily, most of the crowd has already escaped, and you feel confident no one should get caught in the aftermath. Still, it’s pandemonium, and smoke fills your lungs as Seonghwa pulls you closer, shielding you with his body as he hurries toward the nearest exit.
Hongjoong follows after you, but lags behind as he keeps looking over his shoulder at the fire with a sadistic grin on his face. “That’s how we do it,” he yells, voice barely audible over the blaze.
“Get yourself together,” Seonghwa barks. “We need to get out of here before the cops realize what’s going on and find us.”
Suddenly, Hongjoong trips, his foot catching on some loose debris. Seonghwa reacts instantly, yanking him back to his feet and throwing an arm around his waist. The three of you continue onward as the heat of the fire licks at your back. You crash through one of the exit doors, and stumble away into the night, disappearing into the sea of masked faces.
All across the nation, devices light up with the same headline: “City in Chaos as Blazing Inferno Distracts from Large-Scale Bombing of Tech Giants.”
“Nation-wide manhunt underway. Suspects Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa believed to be connected to an underground criminal group called The Black Pirates…”
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