#me when i take my lil drum for a walk

[tothefullhiltofmyheart]

bob dylan and his singular drum on west houston street in greenwich village, new york, 1970

photos by john cohen

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[korizzybee]

Clarisse’s younger sister has feelings for Percy Jackson

Pairing: Percy Jackson x black!fem!reader (romantic), Clarisse La Rue x black!fem!reader (platonic)

Synopsis: the new boy, Percy Jackson, shows up to camp, Clarisse’s younger sister Y/N falls for him.

Warnings: Y/N & Clarisse have different godly parents, Clarisse grabs Percy Jackson, Y/N is daughter of Apollo

I feel bad for the newbies that come to Camp Half Blood, my big sister, Clarisse, always feels the need to ‘break them in’ as she says. So when she told me she was going to be doing the same to the new boy, Percy, I felt bad for him.

Imagine my surprise when I saw her and her half-siblings storming out of the bathrooms, soaked. I looked to find the cause of her state walking out just a few minutes after her. I stared at him and he stared at me.

“You’re Percy Jackson, the boy who killed the Minotaur, correct?” I asked him, unlike Clarisse I wasn’t that skeptical to not believe him. Sometimes things just happen and you get that adrenaline rush.

“Uh..yea, I am.” He said, he seemed cautious of me. “Aren’t you Clarisse’s younger sister?” He asked me.

I stepped closer to him and held out my hand, I noticed the boy was slightly shorter than me. “Y/N La Rue, daughter of Apollo, best bow user at camp. Pleased to meet your acquaintance.” I said with a confident smile.

“Percy.” He said, shaking my hand and letting it go. For a boy, he had really soft hands. “Percy, did you somehow do that to Clarisse?” I asked. “I mean if you did, I don’t hate you for it or anything. It’s finally time someone here stood up to her, someone who isn’t Luke.”

“I don’t really know how to explain it..” he said to me, looking down at his hands. “Honestly, I’m not even sure I understand how it happened.”

I hummed and looked at the sky for second before looking back at him. “Well it was nice meeting you, Percy. Let’s chat again sometime, okay? Okay.” I said, not giving him the chance to respond as I walked back to my cabin.

The next day was capture the flag, and as usual, the Apollo kids were on the red team with the Ares kids. Mainly due to the fact Clarisse didn’t want to hurt me since I’m her younger sister.

After the conch blew, the red team let out a war cry. I didn’t of course, I didn’t want to accidentally scream too loud and bust everyone’s ear drums.

I looked at the other side of the stream where I locked eyes with Percy, I smirked and sent him a wink before walking away with the rest of my team. Clarisse was barking orders and I could tell she had a plan up her sleeve, must’ve had something to do with last night.

She turned to me, “you already know what to do, lil’ sis.” She said, ruffling my hair with a smug smile. I put on my helmet then ran into the part of the woods where Clarisse would hunt.

My job was to stay in the trees and shoot down anyone who just so happened to stumble in there. If I was captured, use my sonic scream to let them know where I am and to distract my enemies.

I climbed up high in one tree, part of me couldn’t stop hoping I would see Percy though. In my honest opinion I thought he was kinda cute.

Over the last ten or fifteen minutes I was able to take down ten campers from the blue team. What I love about my cabin being on the red team is that, that means the blue team barely has any campers that are good with bows.

They have the Hermes cabin, of course, but most Hermes kids prefer swords. I could clanking and other noises out in the distance, one distinctive voice I could make out clearly was Clarisse’s.

I like watching her fight so I climbed down from the tree and ran to the direction of the noise. I could see the lakeshore, once I got there, Clarisse let out the most shrilling scream I had ever heard.

A scream of pure anger, and the expression she wore on her face was murderous. Her spear. Her spear was broken. The only thing she felt was the closest she could get to having some sort of connection with Ares, now it was broken.

My eyes flickered over to Percy, I felt my heart beat speed up. I couldn’t tell if it was because I saw him, or because Clarisse stormed over to him and lifted him off the ground slightly by his armor.

Before I could go and stop her, the horn blew and the blue team ran down to the shore carrying our flag. I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding when Clarisse dropped him.

She stormed passed me, nearly bumping me in the shoulder. Percy and I locked eyes, I wanted to talk to him and ask him what happened. I wanted to also congratulate him on his first win, but I knew I needed to talk with Clarisse. So, instead, I just gave him a small smile and walked off.

Maybe tomorrow I could get the chance to meet up and talk with him.

[sillysowa]

Could you do a lil one-shot of Hobie and fem reader on a road trip, reader driving until he takes the wheel since she took too many distracted stops at roadside shops. That’s until he takes his own stop this time but it involves him on her lap🤭 or not, nsfw or sfw- just a lil idea <3

Not gonna lie, I started writing this request and half way through I realized I read it wrong. Hobie on her lap caught me off guard and I didn’t quite understand how to do that in a car (or what your specific idea was) but I hope this is satisfactory—I went with a switch reader vibe!

I WANNA BE SEDATED!

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER

GENRE: SMUT! PWP

WORD COUNT: 1.2K

WARNINGS: USE OF Y/N, USE OF PET-NAMES, SEX IN A CAR, SLIGHTLY DOM READER AT POINTS, VAGINAL SEX

AUTHORS NOTE: NOT PROOFREAD SO THERE MAY BE SLIGHT MISTAKES!

SYNOPSIS: WHATS A ROAD TRIP WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND WITH NO SEX ON THE HIGHWAY?

—

“Oh my god, Hobie! This one looks cute!” You gush for about the sixth time in the past two hours, pulling off into another local cafe in a small town. The car swings to the side as you enter the tiny parking lot and Hobie’s lanky frame bangs around in his seat as he clings to the handle on his side,

“Shit! Holy fuck, love! Go easy.” He curses, laughing in complete disbelief at your trash driving. You pull into the small bakery parking lot and bother the shit out of Hobie the entire time you’re inside (he loves it.) He pays for it all and you leave with a couple cases of sweets and pile them into your baskets in the back of the car for safekeeping. You “dust” your hands off, reaching for the drivers side door when Hobie’s hand shoots out and snatches your wrist,

“I don’t think so, dollface. It’s my turn—get your sweet ass in the passenger seat.” Hobie quips, nodding towards the other side of the car. You huff and walk over,

“Your driving isn’t any better than mine!” You say, getting comfortable in your seat and not so discreetly catching glimpses at Hobie’s hands as he turns the car on and shifts it into reverse.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He laughs, his hand over you and firmly on the back of your seat as pulls out of the parking lot.

“Oh shut up.” You snap, sipping your drink and messing with his radio. When he’s noticed this, he quickly stops you,

“Ah-ah-ah! I’m driving, my songs.” He tsks, waving his finger at you all annoyingly and pointing to the cds he brought into your car. (He stole every single one.) You sift through all of them, announcing the titles until Hobie gives you the green light on one,

“Road to ruin, Ramones?”

“Yes! Play that one, love.” He smiles, eyes on the road as you put the CD in. Instantly, loud punk rock fills the car, the both of you getting hype and energetic. Hobie drummed his ring clad fingers over the wheel, thrashing his head around and yelling out lyrics, having the time of his life. He stole glances at you—the way your lips locked around the straw of your drink from the cafe, the way you sang along to his favorite songs, and how jaw droppingly gorgeous you look as his passenger princess. It made him feel a certain way, his mischievous side coming out as he pulls over the car in the middle of nowhere on the busy highway.

“Hobie?-“

“Get in the back baby.” Hobie mumbles, that special glint in his eyes as he looks at you, swallowing. You smile widely for a moment before you hurriedly unbuckle and clamor into the backseat with Hobie, a giggling mess. His tall stature struggles in the small car, stumbling around and falling onto the seats. You’re both breathless and laughing, the sunlight fading from view and the only lighting being the cars on the road and the inside lights on in the front seat. Hobie’s under you, kissing you passionately with his hips thrusting up against yours. You break the kiss to suck hickeys into his neck, your whole body shuddering at the sounds he makes,

“A-Ah! Fuck-Don’t stop.” He grunts, his hands finding their way to your hips. You pull back looking him in the eyes, waiting,

“Oh, Y/N don’t make me-“

“Beg.”

“Fuck.” Hobie sighs, looking up at your beautiful smiling eyes, the sadistic look in your them making his cock twitch,

“Please…please don’t stop.” Hobie grunts, his hand reaching up into your hair and tugging it, the moan that leaves your lips a firm reminder of how much you both want this. You grin at him, leaning down and kissing his neck, sucking hickeys right into that sensitive spot of his. Hobie’s hips grind into yours, and you grind back. He’s breathless in the warm air, the windows starting to fog up in the corners.

“Y/N…Y/N.” He moans, reaching up and holding your waist, his fingers dipping under your top as he looks up at you, asking for permission. You nod and he instantly pulls your shirt off of you, nearly cumming at the sight of your tits.

“Fuck…” He groans, sitting up slightly and immediately flicking his tongue over one your nipples, the needy look in his eyes and the sensation driving you insane. Hobie sucks and licks your nipples, biting every now and then, letting out growl-like noises. The bulge in his jeans is hard against your covered pussy, and you feel his need in the sweat on his skin, the agog look in his eyes and the labored breathing that plagues him as he tugs at your pants by the belt loops. Both of you waste no time in stripping completely naked, panting as his loud rock music thrums in your skulls,

“Y-Y/N please,”

“I’m ready, Hobie.” You groan, your pussy rubbing over his hard cock before he grabs your face in his two large hands and kisses you passionately. It’s a mess—you’re both groaning and moaning, so horny you think you could die. Hobie breaks the kiss. his gaze traveling down to where you sink your hips down and he slides all the way inside you. Hobie squeezes his eyes shut at the feeling—warm, wet, walls clenching his cock and threatening to milk him for all he’s got. Hobie feels his adrenaline race and his arms come around your back, pulling your flat against his chest as he fucks you as hard as he can,

“H-Hobie!” You moan, surprised as he aggressively rams into that sweet spot in you, the sound of sex barely heard over the sound of punk rock. The car shakes and your eyes roll into the back of your head at the sensation of his cock deep inside you, stretching you wide open and leaving you breathless,

“Take it, doll. Take all of it, I know you can—your pussy loves my dick, fuckin’ made for it.” He groans, a mumbling mess drunk on your pussy. He fucks you with a steady rhythm, the cars on the road flying past the both of you with their high beams illuminating the car. Hobie’s eyebrows are pinched, his face warm to the touch and you can what his heart beating rapidly. Your pussy clenches and pulsates, the feeling of being fucked like this leaving you delirious. Your head was fuzzy, and your walls were growing tighter as you neared your orgasm, Hobie dirty-talking you through it.

You feel warm cum spilling out of you as he just beats up your insides. You couldn’t tell how many times you came, all you knew was “Yes!” “More!” and “Hobie~!” Hobie loosened his grip on you just as he was about to cum, moving his head to kiss you while he spills inside you, both of you moaning into each others mouths. It was loud, it was messy, and it was insane. You felt the twitching of his entire length as his warm cum filled your insides, Hobie still pumping into you in your overstimulation. You both had to take a minute to regroup yourselves after that kind of sex, stumbling to sit up and get dressed again,

“Couldn’t help it, you looked so good sucking that straw eatlier.” Hobie confesses as he pulls his jeans on,

You laugh, disbelief al over your face, “That’s what this was about? You fucking pervert!” You laugh, playfully shoving his arm. Hobie smirks,

“I’ll be that if it means fucking you like this.” Hobie says in a deep tone as he grabs your face and kisses you roughly, getting a taste of you one last time before you have to get on the road again.

[redstarwriting]

the clash | iv. london calling

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 2.8k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, smoking weed, alcohol, mentions of a gwen canon event, mentions of death, lil angst

a/n: nother long one! i can’t wait to make it crazy angsty bc when i tell u i have THOUGHTS 👀 thank you to everyone who’s reading, i’m trying to update it every day, so hopefully i can stick with that schedule! enjoy this chapter, friends :)

now reading: iv. london calling

previous chapter: iii. black planet

next chapter: v. ever fallen in love

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He fixes his watch to open a portal to his world. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr basically run to get to it. He motions for you to go ahead, and you walk through. Immediately when you step into his room, you’re hit with the smell of weed and incense. You’d be lying if you said you hated it. You glance around. You see drums, another electric and acoustic guitar, empty spray paint cans, spray paint on the walls, stacks of newspapers (all defaced in some way)… it feels very Hobie to say the least. “Now this. This is a livin’ area,” he says, appearing behind you. You shake your head. “So loud, both figuratively and literally. How do you ever get anything done?”

“By being louder than everyone else, obviously,” he responds, and you roll your eyes. “What a way to live,” you remark. “Better than that quiet, dark, and gloomy, way,” he retorts, and you shrug. “If you say so.”

“Hey, Hobie, do you still have the roof all decorated?” Gwen asks and he nods. “Course I do. I own the place, head on up,” he jerks his head upwards, and Gwen turns to Miles and Pavitr with a smirk. “Race ya!”

“Hey no fair! You have been here so many times!” Pavitr yells as Gwen takes off. “Come on, Miles!” you hear her yell. Miles smiles gently and shakes his head before going after the two of them. “He’s so obsessed with her it’s making me sick,” you mumble, and Hobie snorts. “What? Miles and Gwen’s relationship too much for you? You hate love?”

“Love has never done anything but cause me pain. And not the good kind,” you glance at him with a frown, and he raises his eyebrow. Suddenly his eyes get wide. “Oh shit… you had a Gwen canon event.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you respond, and he frowns. “You know, actually talkin’ about that kinda shit is a good way to not sit on it and let it build. You could face some serious problems if you keep doin’ that.”

“Who said I gave a fuck what you think? I didn’t ask for the unneeded advice, alright?” you say, and he narrows his eyes at you. “Oh, right. Forgot I was dealing with a bloody doughnut,” he mumbles and point to the window. “Care to go to the roof and get out of my sight?”

“Sound like the best thing you’ve said since I got here,” you say, leaping out of his window and climbing up the side of the building. While clinging to the wall, you glance out at Hobie’s world. His city looks almost exactly like Night of Yore City, except for the fact that there are a shit ton of fires burning, over half of the buildings look abandoned, the sky is a reddish-orangish hue, and it is so much louder. The name is also vastly different, as his version of NYC is New London. Universal differences get weird and confusing. Nonetheless, you’re intrigued, you turn around, putting your back against the wall and supporting yourself with your hands and feet. The graffitied buildings are a nice touch, you must admit. You snort to yourself when you see a mural of Hobie. If only they knew the asshole behind the mask.

“Now why the hell aren’t you up there with everyone else?” you hear his voice pull you out of your thoughts as he crawls up next to you. You shrug. “I’m a sucker for views, I guess.”

“Well, believe it or not, view is a lot better from the top of the buildin’,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Can I please just be secluded and observe in peace?”

“Absolutely fuckin’ not. Come on,” he says, starting to walk up the wall. You sigh and lazily roll backwards and up the wall to come to standing and follow him up. When you get to the top of the roof, you see a boombox (blaring punk music, of course) and blankets surrounding a barrel with a fire going in it. Multiple coolers decorate the roof which all look stockpiled full of different beers. “Hey, Hobie, you know that they’re all kids, right?”

“New universe, new rules, love. Drinking age is 16 and up ‘round here, not that I’d give a fuck if it wasn’t anyway. So, sit down, shut up, and drink a damn beer. Maybe you’ll loosen up,” he says, tossing you a random bottle. You roll your eyes and sit down but put the beer to the side.

“Hey, Hobie, do you have any of that–” Miles gets cut off by Hobie tossing him another bottle. “Nice. Thanks, dude,” he says excitedly, cracking the top and taking a drink. Gwen gets her beer of choice, and Pavitr does the same. Hobie, you notice, doesn’t drink anything. “So, what were you guys talking about?” Gwen asks, pointing between the two of you with her bottle. “What?” you ask, and she shrugs. “You guys were alone in Hobie’s for a while and no one died, soooo did you guys finally talk about something you could agree on?”

“We can’t agree on nothin’, Gwen. They were just bein’ their usual self and annoyin’ the shit out of me at any chance they could get,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “Good to know it worked, mate”

“Stop imitatin’ me, poser.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“I’ll make you.”

“Try me, Hobart.”

“Alright, that’s enough of that. What were you guys talking about?” Miles asks, and you and Hobie look at each other. “Just asked where the bathroom was,” you say, and he nods. “Yeah. That’s it.”

You weren’t necessarily ready to reveal you faced the Gwen canon event. Especially not to another Gwen. At least Hobie isn’t enough of a dick to bring it up in front of them. “Oh, yeah, you did change into your everyday clothes. Don’t know how I didn’t notice that,” Gwen states, taking another swig of her beer. You had changed in your apartment after cleaning your wound, but you don’t say anything. Hobie nods at you, and you nod back.

“Why aren’t you drinking anything (Y/n)? Here, try this it’s so good,” Pavitr pushes his bottle toward you, and you shake your head. “I don’t want to drink, but thanks Pavitr,” you say, and he frowns. “Awww.” You smile slightly at how disappointed he sounds. “Well, I want to remember everything you all tell me without it being fuzzy because I was hoping you could let me know a little bit more about all the spider people in Spider Society. I’m still new, you four, Peter B. Parker, and Miguel are the only ones I’ve really met.”

With that, Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr start telling you everything they know. You learn about Jessica Drew, Spider-Man Noir, Peni Parker, and so many more. Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr talk for hours, and since they’re kids, they do not know when to stop drinking. Eventually, the three of them are passed out. Miles is cradling Gwen’s side with his head on her chest as she wraps one of her arms around him, and Pavitr is laying straight on his back, lightly snoring. You giggle softly at the sight. Suddenly the punk music you’ve been listening to for the past however many hours gets softer. You glance over to where it is and see Hobie bent over and turning it down. “Don’t wanna wake ‘em,” he mumbles, walking over to you. The volume of the city has decreased quite a bit, and with the low hum of music coming from the boombox now, his world is actually kind of enjoyable. Though you’d never tell him that. He motions to the skyline, and you turn and look. He was right, as much as you hate to admit it. The view is a lot better from up here.

“Why didn’t you drink anythin’?” he asks, and you shrug. “Didn’t feel like it. Why didn’t you drink anything?” He shrugs and pulls out a rolled cigarette from his vest pocket. “Got somethin’ better.”

“And you didn’t offer any to them?”

“Hey, they can drink here, they don’t need to mess with this shit. ‘Sides I knew they’d be pissed. Gonna have a god-awful hangover tomorrow,” he says, pulling out a lighter. You shake your head. “They can’t mess with your shit, but I can?”

“The two of us are the same age. We’re ‘adults’ or whatever the fuck that means. Are you too stuck up to be ‘round some grass or somethin’?”

“No, Hobie, I don’t give a fuck if you smoke weed. Building manager might, though.”

“Love, I am the building manager. This place is abandoned, so it belongs to me. And you’re not tellin’ me I’m supposed to smoke this myself?” he asks with a sly smirk on his face. You raise your eyebrow at him. “Actually I am.” He groans, putting the joint to his lips and lighting the end of it.

“Do you know how to have any fun?”

“Do you know how to have any–” Before you can finish, he puts his finger over your mouth, and raises the joint to his lips again. He takes a deep breath in, blowing out the excess smoke and glancing at you. “No.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“Don’t care. The answer is no.”

“Have you ever actually tried listening to anything anyone says?” “Nah. I don’t listen to no one. I’m me, and if people don’t like that, good,” he says, taking another drag. He glances over at you and holds the joint out. “Y’sure you don’t want some?”

“You actually want to share with me?”

“I want you to not be as much as a ragin’ fuckwit, so yes,” he blows smoke in your face, and you glare at him. “If I take one hit, will you shut the fuck up about it?”

“Probably not, but it would sure make me happier.” You roll your eyes, and take the joint from him, taking a drag. He watches you. He’d never admit it, but he wishes you weren’t such an asshole. The way you look doing that in the moonlight? Stunning. You pass the joint back to him, some of the smoke coming out of your nose. “Stop staring at me.”

“Just makin’ sure you did it right and didn’t waste my shit,” he says, taking another drag. “I know how to hit a joint, Hobie.”

“Really? Never would have guessed you’d do anything remotely excitin’.”

“Oh, please. You barely know me,” you say, angrier than you probably should be. “Then tell me about yourself, love.”

“Hard pass,” you say, and he groans. “I get the desire to stay anonymous and mysterious, obviously, but come on. Chances are we’re gonna be seein’ each other more than either of us wants to, so just open up a bit,” he says, and you frown. “There’s nothing you need to know.”

“Bullshit.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me something about you.”

“I killed Norman Osborn with my guitar after defeatin’ him and all of his V.E.N.O.M. forces and successfully led a rebellion against fascism,” he says smugly, “Until those other fuckin’ Nazis showed up, but one day I promise you this world? Will be capitalist and fascist free.”

“No, it won’t. Am I supposed to be impressed?” you ask with a deadpan face. He scoffs. “Damn, you’re a wanker. I’d like to see you try and defeat the V.E.N.O.M. forces. From what I seen your world’s villains are rubbish,” he says and to his surprise, and yours, you laugh. A hint of a smile plays on his features, but you shake your head. “Green Goblin is, you’re right, but... there are others who are much worse. And what the fuck is a venom force? You’re saying that like I should just know what it is.”

“It was a symbiote that– wait, you sayin’ you don’t know what venom is? That’s something every spider-person deals with at some point,” he says, and you shrug. “Guess I haven’t dealt with it yet.”

“Yeah, well, when you do, call me cause you’ll need my help,” he says and you roll your eyes. “I’d rather die than get help from you.”

“I helped you today, love.”

“I could have done that myself,” you retort, and he shakes his head, taking another drag. “I guess I should thank you though.”

“Hmm?”

“For not telling them what we were really talking about,” you say, and he hums. “What they won’t know won’t kill ‘em. But just so you know I was being so serious. Not talkin’ about that shit is more harmful than good,” he says, and you frown. “I’m not much of a talker.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up,” you groan, and he laughs. He loves pissing you off, might be his favorite thing to do now. But the conversation might actually need to get serious. He may hate you, but he’s Spider-Punk for the people, and you’re apart of that people. He’s there to help, so he may as well try with you.

“Why not?”

“What?”

“Why not? Why won’t you talk about it?” he asks, and you huff. “Because it was my fault, and I don’t want to think about it.”

“Nah, I bet it wasn’t your fault,” he mumbles, taking another drag. You glare at him. “Oh, right, I forgot you were there when their neck snapped after I tried to save them,” you spit, and he glances at you. You can feel that hit starting to affect you, that’s the only reason you said anything about… the incident. Of course, Hobie has good shit, why wouldn’t he. “What were you trying to save them from?” he asks, his voice oddly calm. “The Prowler,” you reply, “He’s the worst of the worst in my universe.” He hums and nods. “Well then, reckon it’s the Prowler’s fault then, innit?”

“What? But I’m the one who couldn’t get to them in time after he–”

“He did it, (Y/n). You did your best, but it ain’t your fault what happened there. That’s what they want you to think. Try and get that through your thick skull, would you?” he says, and you scoff, “They?”

He nods, and you go quiet. He glances over at you as you just sit and stare out at the city. “Stop doin’ ‘at.”

“Doing what?”

“Blamin’ yourself,” he says, taking another long drag. You sigh. “I can’t help it,” you mumble, and he shakes his head. “You can. Just takes time,” he responds. You scoff, “You’d think three years would be enough time.” You look out at his city. It’s so different from yours, but you can still see the beauty in it. And you can see the stars. None of the constellations of your world are here, but the sky is still beautiful. “If you need a place to crash, my couch is very comfortable and has your name written all over it,” Hobie says, and you shake your head. “I should probably just go back to my universe–”

“No way. No dimension hopping under the influence,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “I had one hit,” you say, and he shrugs. “And one hit is enough for you to think you’re goin’ home only to end up in Peter Porker’s shower. You’re stayin’ here tonight.” You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m insufferable for watchin’ out for your well-bein’? Okay, sure.”

“I don’t need you to watch out for me. I don’t need anyone,” you hiss, and he scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Too good for everyone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It was implied.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Like you wouldn’t say the same thing,” you say, and he shrugs. “You’re right. I would say I don’t need anyone, because I don’t. Especially not a miserable thing like you,” he says, and you frown. “Good.”

“Great.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

The two of you just glare at each other for a bit before he flicks the butt of his joint off the building. “Goin’ to bed. See you tomorrow.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Shut up and follow me back to my place,” he says, getting up and walking down the building. You follow, yawning as you realize just how tired you are. When you get back inside Hobie’s place, he points at the couch. “Lay there, and don’t move until mornin’, got it?”

“I’ll do what I want.”

“Amazin’. Just don’t wake me up, and I won’t give a fuck,” he says, walking into his bedroom and kicking his door shut. You roll your eyes and lay down on his couch. It’s actually surprisingly comfortable, and you find yourself actually dozing off faster than you anticipated. Hobie walks out of his room to get a drink of water and ready to fight you verbally again, only to see you passed out on his couch with literally no blanket or pillow.

He sighs, grabbing a throw blanket off his bed and gently placing it on top of you. In the morning, you wake up before everyone else. You notice the blanket, and know only one person could have done that, but you don’t feel like sticking around to say anything. You just go home. But before you do, you leave a little note saying, ‘didn’t need your sympathy, thanks but no thanks,’ and draw a little middle finger.

He’ll get the hint you appreciated it.

───────────────────────────────

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[strlingsav]

hear me out: team 141& female reader go to the bar post successful mission, everyone's a lil too drunk, she makes a move on ghost but he's like "ok uve had too much" (I dnt think he's rly drunk tho) and he brings her back to his room to take care of her, but hes like wait "I've always wanted you" THEN THE HOT AND STEAMY STUFF *ofc it's all consensual*

Ohhhhhhh yes, right up my alley 👀

Always

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Your Lieutenant confesses his feelings.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

It wasn't your idea to go out; it was never anyone but Soap that always suggested a pint at the bar around the corner. A run-down dive bar across the street from the base, where every soldier knew it was the best place for cheap drinks and entertainment.

It was the kind of place that belonged to the coarse, gruff men that chain-smoked and didn't want to go home sober. The kind that kept their eyes on you as you wandered in, before turning their interest back to the beer in front of them.

You shared a table with the squad. You were a bit hesitant to join them after hearing the stories Soap told about the place. The time he nearly had a dart thrown in his chest during a drunken game, or when he'd lost a lot of money during a pool match. Nonetheless, you'd been convinced, citing something like, "one time can't hurt".

It was filled with cigarette smoke, classic-rock, and the heavy smell of beer. Price lit up a cigar, puffing on it from the far end of the table. He seemed to enjoy the music and beer, not paying much attention to the ongoing conversation between you. Gaz and Soap had been ragging on each other, Ghost joining in when he felt it necessary.

Soap was already a few drinks in, pressuring you to keep up with him. You could, and did, though you knew you'd have to walk back afterward and thoroughly regretted the three you'd already had.

Ghost sat beside you, a hand around his glass of bourbon, quietly surveying the conversation, chiming in with a scoff or witty comment about Soap's intelligence every so often.

"You are not a Scotsman," You shook your head, watching the drunken man nod his head along to the guitar and drums from the speakers.

"Piss off," He sneered. "What are you on about?"

"You can't hold your liquor," You said back, leaning forward with a smug grin.

"And you can? I'm drinkin' you under the table."

"We're even," You rolled your eyes, sitting back. "'Sides, I'm savouring it."

"Shite's gettin' warm in your hand!" He exclaimed.

You narrowed your eyes, shooting the last of your beer back.

"Let's do a few shots, then. And grab me another beer."

His eyes lit up, a smirk on his face. "Now you're talkin' kid." He shuffled out of his seat, stumbling every so slightly as he headed toward the bar.

"He won't stop 'til he's ahead of ya," Ghost said, leaning into your ear.

You shivered. The timbre of his voice in your ear brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin. Looking over at him, you furrowed your brows, inspecting his eyes. Dark and void, no flecks of any other colour to be seen. They were deep and mesmerizing, a black hole ready to suck you in. You noticed you'd been staring longer than normal, pursing your lips before shifting your gaze.

"I know," You were distracted now with the image of Soap, carrying four shot glasses filled with a mysterious liquid. "It's fun to see him try though."

"More entertainin' watchin' him act like a git."

You grinned.

Price then announced he was heading out, mumbling, "I ain't in the mood for watchin' you drunks all night."

You'd bid him good night, but not before trying to convince him to stay. He'd resigned himself to a night in, drinking his expensive liquor, puffing his cigar in the privacy of his own office. He left with a short goodbye, warning the rest of you not to get out of control.

Soap set the shots down, handing you yours with a polite smile.

"Think we should cheers," He said, sitting down. His speech was now obviously slurring. "To another fuckin' mission finished, and to gettin' back home, away from you fuckers."

You shrugged, colliding your glass with his, before tipping it back and letting it slide down your throat. You shut your eyes, swallowing harshly, nearly choking on the burn in your chest.

"Jesus," You were hoarse, a strangled sound leaving your lips. You recognized the flavour of the drink- vodka. "Nasty."

You sat back, your eyes scanning the bar. It was getting harder to see straight- ghost trails and lazy blinks disrupting your vision. A deep breath in did nothing to clear your head, but damn did it feel good.

"Here," He handed you the second.

You hadn't quite recovered from the first, still feeling it sitting in your throat. Your ribs shifted with a heavy inhale, desperately trying to swallow the liquid fire. Your eyes landed on Soap, an amused grin across his face, though you'd already gulped down the shot before he could say anything.

He chased his shot with the beer in front of him, a grimace across his face- the same as yours. It hit you within a few minutes, only exacerbating the way everything seemed to blur together.

It felt great. Fucking great, to drink, relax, unwind. Have fun, for the first time in months. Dress in something other than fatigues and twenty pounds of equipment. To shower and brush your teeth with running water. You'd finally de-tangled your hair, appreciated the sweet smell of deodorant, worn makeup. You were reminded of it by Gaz, when he commented that your face looked "different" from the usual.

Your head turned, catching Ghost's eyes on the way by, and you smiled softly. It was unintentional, nearly uncontrollable at this point in the evening. He averted his gaze.

You'd always thought highly of him, respected him. You had to. But the causal dress brought out a different side of him, a side that had a sense of humour and didn't mind listening to the back and forth between yourself and Soap. A side you wouldn't mind seeing more often. He wasn't just your Lieutenant now, and your drunken self had taken note of that.

You squinted, trying to imagine the face beneath the mask. His eyes were alluring on their own, and your cheeks flushed at the thought of just how handsome he probably was.

You'd let your guard down, after so long of denying the fact that you were attracted to him, you'd admitted it to yourself. You knew you were digging yourself into a hole, unsure how you'd function while working with him, how you'd ever leave the attraction behind and behave in a strictly professional manner.

It was more difficult to think about drunk than it was while sober. While sober, you could pretend his voice didn't awaken a thrumming in your chest, or that you definitely didn't like the way his fatigues fit his body. But drunk- it was a different story. You'd had your eyes all over him, uncaring and indifferent to whether he noticed or not.

It came with urgency, a giggle bubbling up before you could stop it. It was just another urge you couldn't quite hold in. You'd been studying him, and only when he turned to you, did you realize it. You'd been caught.

"What's funny?" He asked, raising a brow.

You waved your hand, trying to dismiss his question, nearly knocking your empty beer bottle off the table. You caught it with a clumsy hand, pushing it out of reach and clutching your full drink to your chest.

"Lightweight," Soap announced, the usual shit-eating grin on his face.

"Fuck off, Johnny."

"You're a mean drunk, kid."

"I'm not drunk." You noticed that your own speech was slurring now. Your mouth particularly difficult to control, short bursts of giggles exploding without warning. "Okay," You nodded slowly. "Just a bit."

Soap laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that made you wince. He'd also indulged a bit too much, his cockiness making an unexpected appearance.

"Let's win us a game of pool," Soap said, turning to Gaz.

"I'm not giving you any money," Gaz answered, following close behind as the two made their way to the tables.

You sighed heavily, relishing in the feeling of not being in control. Letting go, falling into the drunken stupor you'd gotten yourself into. It was cathartic. Especially after a gruelling mission.

You turned your attention to Ghost, your head tilting up to look at him.

"Just you and me, Loot," You pursed your lips. "Tell me your war stories."

"Don't have any interesting enough." He took another sip, his lips wet with liquor. You could hardly tear your eyes away.

"Bullshit," You grinned.

He shrugged it off, licking the leftover liquid from his mouth. You'd see his lips before, seen the stubble that lined his chin. You knew he was handsome.

"You should take off the mask," You said, still very intrigued.

"Why's that?" He asked, his gaze flickering between your lips and eyes.

"You're handsome. Not sure why you hide it," You popped a cashew in your mouth from the communal bowl on the table.

"I know. That ain't why I wear it," He said. His eyes fell to the cashews in your hand. "Shouldn't eat those."

You stopped your chewing, furrowing your brows as you set the remaining cashews back in the bowl. He was right; by the looks of it they were old- you hadn't noticed with the blurry haze of liquor distorting your vision.

"Always looking out," You grinned sheepishly. "It's alright to take a night off."

"Not when you're pissed," He commented.

You scowled, "I'm not pissed- I'm tipsy. At the most, a bit drunk." Your tone was harsher than intended.

"You're pissed," He nodded.

"You're deflecting. We were talking about how handsome you are."

"No we weren't," He said, swallowing another gulp.

"Okay," You sighed. Admittedly, it was taking a lot of brain power to follow the conversation. "I was talking about it."

He nodded. "You usually so irritatin' when you're in the bag?"

"Are you usually such a prude?" You snapped.

He shook his head, hiding the grin on his lips with a sip from his glass. You were far too drunk to notice. You wondered if maybe you were a mean drunk, suddenly feeling irrationally guilty for talking to your lieutenant that way.

"I'm sorry," You sighed, desperately wanting to lay your head down on the table, bury your face in your arms and hide your embarrassment.

"It's nothin'." He looked amused.

"I'm sure you're not a prude," You said, eyes wide with concern.

"Far from it."

You raised your brows, suddenly intrigued. Sitting up straight, you shifted to face him entirely.

"I've never seen that side of you."

"No reason to."

"I mean," You swallowed the cold beer, setting it down before staring up at him with narrowed eyes. "I could give you a reason."

Your focus was unrelenting as you scanned his face, searching for any hint of an interested expression. He was unreadable- likely due to the liquor in your bloodstream- and it frustrated you. Now, deeply under the influence, you were irritated and aroused.

"Don't think you know what you're sayin'," His eyebrows dipped in, an unimpressed expression in his eyes.

He'd never seen you in your civilian clothes, or with lipstick on. His mouth had gone dry when he first saw you walk into the bar, not surprising given the tightness in his chest anytime you'd brush past him, compliment him, even say his name. It was unavoidable, especially now, watching you lean in, your inhibitions lowered.

He felt his blood run cold, warmth settling in his groin when your eyes lazily flipped over to look at him, your hand under your chin. You had a coy smile on your face, like you didn't know exactly what you did to him, and he'd be a damn liar if he didn't admit it turned him on even more.

"I know exactly what I'm saying." Your eyes narrowed at him, a short huff of amusement leaving your nose.

He wanted to believe it was true; he'd been around enough drunken soldiers to know that whatever was said usually had some truth to it. He just couldn't imagine a woman like yourself wanting to be attached to a person like him. You were too good; too righteous. Too loyal, trusting. Sometimes it drove him crazy, other times he cherished how much faith you put in him.

"Think you've had enough for the night."

He finished his drink, setting it down. He licked his lips.

"Maybe," You nodded.

Your head was fuzzy, and it was hard to see straight. Reasonably, you knew it was time to call it. You'd pay for it in the morning if you didn't.

"C'mon," He said, nodding his head, urging you to step out of the booth. "We'll head back to base."

You didn't fight him. Your hand reached the table for support as you stood up, missing the empty beer bottle by an inch. Ghost grabbed your arm, an innocent touch that your drunken state turned into something more; a premonition.

You turned back to look at him, a coy smile- even drunk, you were a bit embarrassed to be so clumsy in front of your Lieutenant.

Your arm wrapped around Ghost's as you headed out of the bar, discretely feeling the hard bicep that was hidden beneath the black jacket he was wearing. You squeezed gently, hoping he wouldn't feel your groping. He knew, he could feel your fingers moving, the heat of your palm over his arm. He couldn't help but look over at you, an expression of bliss on your face, eyes half shut.

You made small talk, the night air sobering you up a bit as you wandered across the street. The flickering streetlights made him look even more intimidating than usual, casting a shadow over his eyes, his tall form towering over you. You were aware now of just how close you were to him; you were surprised he'd let you hold his arm, but glad he did. You were somewhat afraid you'd wander off and end up sleeping in a ditch, but mostly you liked how warm he was, how good he felt under your hand.

You knew when he walked you inside that it wasn't the direction of your bunk.

"I'm over there," You pointed.

"You're stayin' with me," He said resolutely. "Can't have you chokin' on your own vomit."

You frowned, "Fair point."

As he let you into his quarters, you were overwhelmed with just how much it smelled like him. A bit of vanilla, cedar, cigarettes. It was almost suffocating, seeping into your senses until you were filled only by him. It was intimate, breathing the same air he lived in. He'd allowed you inside, allowed you to see his most personal space. You took a deep breath at the overwhelming revelation.

Your eyes scanned the room, cataloguing the belongings inside. There weren't many personal items; no photographs or books. Hardly any evidence that he lived there. It was barren, aside from the furniture. You knew him, knew he didn't live like you did. He didn't have family back home that waited for him with loving arms and smiles. He had no reason to frame photos of the people he had loved before.

You stood in the centre of the room, still taking in the environment, sobering up even more when he appeared with a T-shirt and water bottle in hand.

"Here," He said, holding them out to you.

"Is that yours?" You asked, looking over the T-shirt.

He nodded.

You were flustered now, the drunkenness having mostly worn off, your demeanour did a one-eighty once you realized where you'd ended up. Your Lieutenant's room, alone. It was the perfect opportunity to take advantage of, to confess to every single thing you'd ever thought about him. But you couldn't blame it on being drunk anymore, not when you could feel the embarrassment of what you'd said earlier, and mostly regretted it.

"Thank you."

"Y'can change in there," He nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom.

You did, discarding your jacket, shirt and pants. You slid the shirt over your head. It reached the middle of your thighs, a comical look that made you smile at yourself in the mirror. You chugged the water bottle and pulled your hair from your face before leaving the bathroom.

His eyes landed on you, his heart picking in his chest up when he saw you wearing nothing but his shirt. Relaxed, like you were home. It was undeniably arousing. Like you were branded, marked by him. He tried to ignore it, ignore the way your bare feet across his floor sounded so comforting, the way you so willingly wore his clothes, thought nothing of wearing your damn panties around him. He felt something primal clawing at his chest, scratching its way up his throat.

"How you feelin'?" He asked, settling for a nonchalant question, something innocent so you wouldn't suspect he was practically trembling with desire, to touch you- taste you. He took a seat in the chair across the room.

You stepped over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

"Mostly sober," You breathed out, a small smile on your face. "Sorry, if I said anything out of line."

He nodded; no answer, a nerve-racking response on its own, but his eyes avoided yours. You pushed past the topic, not wanting to dwell on the actions of your drunken self.

"I can sleep on the floor, if you have an extra blanket?" You offered.

He shook his head, "Take the bed. Don't sleep much anyways."

"Why not?" You asked.

"Never have. Too much goin' on in my head."

"Stop thinking for once," You teased.

He inhaled, still slightly distracted by the sight of you, your bare thighs, the shirt inching up as you moved up the bed.

"If only," He replied.

"What keeps you up at night, L.T.?" You asked, a grin of amusement on your face.

You, he wanted to say. You, and your fucking smile. The cadence of your voice, the feeling in his gut he got whenever he felt you next to him, watched you when you weren't looking.

"Paperwork," He teased- though his face showed no evidence of a joke.

You were quiet for a minute, shifting your gaze around the room before returning to his eyes. You smiled, changing the topic again when you concluded he really didn't want to talk about it.

"Thanks for taking care of me tonight."

"You're my responsibility."

Your heart sunk to the pit of your stomach; had he felt responsible for you? Had he only let you cling to him out of obligation? Given you his shirt because it was his duty?

"Oh," You nodded. Your voice was weak, but you tried to hide your disappointment behind a small smile. "Always watching out."

"For you, yeah."

Your gaze narrowed. You wondered if you were still drunk, reading too much into his words, putting meaning where there was none. He sat forward in his seat, attentive, unwavering.

You tilted your head, hoping it would give you an alternative angle to follow, a new lead into the words he'd said. With no success, you leaned back on your hands, ready to interrogate him.

"You don't have to do that," You said, prodding for more. Something substantial, something tangible to sink your teeth into. Some ground to stand on so you could tell how he really felt. "Watch out for me all the time. Especially off duty."

"Can't help it," He said. It was quiet, almost unnoticeable except you'd seen his shoulders tense.

"Why?"

He stood to his feet, and your stomach lurched. He was slow, calculating in his steps, moving closer by the second.

"Think you know."

He stopped before you, his gaze so impenetrable you almost couldn't meet his eyes. His fingers reached up, his knuckles skimming the soft surface of your cheek. You shut your eyes, an inadvertent reaction to the rough feel of his fingers. Your skin was flushed, reddened with the rush of blood your heart was pushing to every nerve.

"Because I'm a liability?" You teased, desperately wanting to ease the tension, to appear unaffected by his words, even though your arms had weakened, every bone turning to liquid inside you. You struggled to keep his gaze, to hold yourself up when he was so domineering, standing tall above you.

His eyes honed in on your lips, giving a small shake of his head. "'Cause I've always wanted you."

You inhaled deeply. It stunned you, to say the least. You'd never seen any hint of attraction from him. He was stoic and unreadable, always. But now, he bore his soul to you. Extending an offer that you were too weak to decline. The room stood still, soft exhales and invisible strain sitting in the air.

You finally met his gaze, cheeks tinged red, an exhale of relief. It was a weight off your shoulders, not having to hide anymore. Knowing he felt exactly the same.

"You've always had me, Lieutenant." You stood to your feet, your head barely meeting his shoulder, but you felt powerful, invigorated with a rush of desire.

He hummed, short, acknowledging, satisfied.

His hand moved from the apple of your cheek to the curve of your waist. His hold was strong and warm, comforting, in a way that made you shiver. A twitch in your body made him chuckle, a deep and inviting sound, that offered no relief of the chill running through your spine.

You couldn't count how many times you'd wished he'd touch you. Intentionally or not, you didn't care, you craved it. You craved the sensation, the heavy pour of molten heat that settled in every bone. The ache between your thighs, never satiated by your own hands, leaving your body to the mercy of your mind, begging and pleading for relief by some measure.

"You still drunk?" He asked, quiet and low.

You shook your head, eyes piercing his gaze with ferocity, a never ending commitment. You couldn't be drunk; not with how obvious it was that his hand was on your waist, clinging to you tightly like he'd lose you if he didn't. Your senses were sharper than they'd ever been, especially with him standing before you.

He pulled the fabric of his mask over his head, freeing his face before you. It was a sight to behold, a moment you wanted to seal in your mind and look back on for years to come. You couldn't help your teeth chewing at your lip, biting back the urge to stand on your toes and kiss him, kiss the lips you'd seen a handful of times but never complemented by his other features. He was handsome. Even more than you'd imagined; a composite of Adonis, embodiment of Ares.

He did your bidding for you, leaning over your shorter frame to bring his lips closer to yours. He waited a moment, wanting to be sure you knew exactly what he intended, what he wanted. You grew tired of the torment, and met him halfway.

He groaned; low and harsh. He absolved you of any responsibility, taking over as he tugged you into his chest. He was a towering figure above you, your neck aching as you reached up to meet his mouth. Your hands lifted to his waist, a gentle hold, still apprehensive. You'd never touched him before, never been able to glide your hands across his sides and envelop him in your arms. It felt right.

In response, his palm reached your cheek, fingers splaying out over your jaw. It was a bit rougher, more motivated. He slipped his tongue in your mouth at the same time, his heavy exhales fanning across your face. He was warm, feverish against you, his body entirely consumed with greed.

He tasted sweet, like caramel and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol still on his tongue. You hummed softly against his mouth, relishing in the moment; your bodies pressed together, lips connected fervidly, hands exploring the expanse of his torso. Your fingers slid down his abdomen, and he pulled back, still holding onto you.

"Y'look good in my shirt."

A slow, smug smile spread over your lips. "Shame you'll have to take it off me," You whispered.

You stood on your toes, pressing your lips to his again. It was an addictive rush, every time you felt the way he pulled you in, the softness in his lips.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, slowly crawling over you to pin you beneath him on the bed, pure desire between your thighs, flames flickering inside you when his gaze lowered.

You pulled the jacket off his shoulders, hands lifting his T-shirt over his head. Your eyes dropped to his stomach, breathing in the muscles lining his navel, the trail of coarse hair disappearing under his jeans, the marks and scars across his entire torso. Your hands inadvertently reached out, tracing every line and contour, his head falling down at your gentle touch.

You pulled his belt open, before he took his time lifting his T-shirt up off your body, watching with uninterrupted focus, taking in every bare inch he could see until you were left nude before him.

"Fuckin' beautiful," He whispered, his lips beside your ear, moving to leave soft kisses against your neck.

Your jugular pounded in your throat, his silken tongue finding your pulse and biting down softly. You whimpered, pulling yourself closer to him as he scattered kisses over your neck and chest. His hands engulfed your breasts, warmth erupting over your body when he left wet kisses over your nipples, a flat tongue following.

"Yes, please," You exhaled, your back arching into him.

He laid down beside you, a smooth transition when your hand on his chest pushed him back against the pillows. You climbed over his lap while he gripped your hips, staring up at you as you rocked over the bulge in his jeans.

He grunted, quickly yanking his waistband and briefs down. His cock lifted from the restraints, painfully erect, the size a bit intimidating but you'd never given up from a challenge. You leaned forward, sliding your panties aside, helping him to press the tip of his cock against your entrance, before you sat back down.

His cock slowly inched inside, an uncomfortable stretch, but you were already so aroused it quickly dissipated when your hips moved forward. He stretched his neck back, pressing into the pillows; your pussy was drenched, with soft, velvet walls that squeezed around him. He gritted his teeth.

"So big, Lieutenant," You exhaled, a guttural sound as you appreciated just how much he filled you.

"No Lieutenant shite," He groaned. "Simon-" He gulped. "Say my name, love."

You leaned over him, resting your hands against the pillows while his hands slid up to your waist. You craned your neck down to press your lips against his, your pussy gliding up and down his cock while his hands guided you.

It was a haze-inducing sight; your lips wide with pleasure, panting softly every time his cock would massage your walls, graze your clit.

"You feel good, sweetheart," He grumbled against your neck. "Fuckin' hell- that's good."

"Yes- fuck," You watched his eyes, the way he'd furrow his brows in an attempt to digest just how good you felt wrapped around him.

His free hand massaged your breasts, grabbing and palming the soft tissue as you thrust your hips against his.

"God, Simon."

"Been waitin' to hear you say my name like that," He said.

You shivered on his cock, your pussy clenching down with appreciation for his words.

You moved forward, your hips working to grind against him, to push his cock inside you, falling back with heavy exhales.

He couldn't handle the slow pace, couldn't handle the restriction- how he couldn't bury himself inside you. He flipped your bodies over, realigning himself with your pussy before diving back inside.

You groaned, clinging to his shoulders, your thighs immediately wrapping around his waist, trembling.

"Lie back," He grunted, his hips rolling against yours. "Lie back and let me take care of you, love."

Your lips parted, a satisfied moan escaping. Your hands reached his hair, fingers digging into his scalp as he thrust his cock inside you, the sounds of your well-lubricated pussy echoing around the room.

He muffled your moans with his lips, panting heavily after pulling away.

"So deep," You mumbled, "Fuck you're so deep, just like that, please."

"Like hearin' you beg, sweetheart," Another grunt.

His fingers reached down to your clit, rubbing side to side in a way that made your abdomen tense. He felt the clench of your pussy around him, letting out a low gasp against your skin.

"Christ, I dreamt about fuckin' you. Havin' you just like this."

"Simon," You whispered.

His hand gripped your thigh, angling it to penetrate deeper inside you.

"Who's this cunt belong to?" Sweat lined his brow, his fingers still moving in circles on your clit.

"Fuck," You squeezed your eyes shut, savouring just how fucking good it felt, the stimulation was enough to have you writhing beneath him, your body begging for an orgasm. "You, shit- 's all yours."

"That's my girl," He grumbled, plunging his cock inside you with even more speed now, triggering waves of pleasure that engulfed your entire body, had you moaning so loudly he covered your mouth with his hand.

"Fuck," He swore, listening to the muffled sounds of pleasure escaping your mouth. "Fuckin' hell. Let it out. I've got you."

You whimpered and whined, his cock driving into you, extending your orgasm. Your eyes rolled back, nostrils flaring as you tried to catch your breath, your thighs and fingers squeezing relentlessly against him.

He had a difficult time holding back; he so badly wanted to hear every single moan and cry that left your lips, but knew the walls were thin. He wouldn't live with himself if anyone found out, if you'd take the brunt of the relentless torment that would surely follow.

He removed his hand when he was sure you'd recovered, so close to his own release he almost didn't have time to tell you. You could read his face, see the expression of pain and pleasure.

"Wherever," You breathed. "Wherever you want."

Your words pushed him past the edge, and his hips stuttered, pressing flush against yours as he released inside you, his cock twitching with every burst.

He sucked in a harsh breath, head tilting up to stare at the ceiling. He thrusted lazily a few more times, before gently falling next to you. A few moments passed, deep breaths and contentment in the air.

"What's in your head now?" You asked, turning on your side.

He nearly smiled, "All clear, sweetheart."

[theoceansluvr]

Llyod Garmadon x Reader

warnings; daddy issues and trauma.. it's llyod what do you expect? author's notes; by popular demand, aka one of my favorite ppl told me i should do it, my ninjago obsession !!! was gonna keep this to myself bc this is the nerdiest thing i will ever write on this blog but <9 kind of a mix of relationship hcs and regular old hcs

oooo he's so sweet i can't even describe it

doesn't really know how to do typical couple things i fear

mainly because he's scared that your either with him due to some ulterior motive or you'll get scared of him considering his past and father-

please please reassure this poor boy he's on the brink of a collapse from overthinking it

onto the normal, non sad headcanons !

biggest pillow fort building fan

most of you dates consist of sitting in one and watching really bad horror movies

oh and carmel popcorn !

if we're using the idea of him not being a lil Lego guy, he'd be one of those dudes with the BIGGEST Lego collection

(do i talk about Legos too much in my headcanons ???)

he will actually sit down and tell you about how long each of them took in full detail it's adorable

makes you a playlist every other day fr

i know that's more of a Cole thing but i like to think music is one of his ways to relax so he has some crazy good music taste

you guys have those frog build a bears or just any build a bear honestly

but he reminds me of the frog

you know those cute little Lego hearts ? you guys would have those

his is your favorite color and yours is green

he would totally walk you to class but would absolutely be nervous because he's not exactly the class favorite..

but you don't mind !

really creative when it comes to gifts and whatnot

like handmade cards and stuff like that

sort of went over dates already BUT

COMIC STORE DATES !!!

i will argue with nobody over this one either

probably a Marvel fan

would ironically like green latern though

doesn't really mind pda but absolutely isn't used to it

but in private he's the biggest cuddler

really, really likes when you play with his hair

i have zero explanation for this except for because i said so

based on art from one of my favorite artists on insta he would unironically wear those middle school boy minecraft fits

i love him dearly but the gods know he does

dyed his hair with koolaid once and it absolutely made him want to ACTUALLY dye it

likes when you read to him

it could be the most boring book on the planet and he'd know lay there and listen to you

knows how to play drums ???

definitely would teach you too

likes taking naps with you because he's chronically sleep deprived

fighting your dad and his henchmen doesn't come cheap im afraid

i could write about him for hours and hours but im sure people would get bored of that !!

all in all he's one of my favorite childhood crushes and i missed him so hard

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

A random au where bucky is a car mechanic who is fixing his single sexy next neighbor, reader's car. She was wearing slightly revealing clothes to want to get banged by bucky. Luckily it work!!!

The Piper: paid

A/N: Soooooooo fucking sorry about the time in between my last post my wonderful people. Doing my absolute best to make lemonade outta the lemons life keeps whippin at the back of my damn head. Anyway, next story will also be a request as I have so many to get done. Probs won't be doing any thing else till I get those done. Anyway.. On to the fic! Enjoy!

"Dammit!"

Bucky's frustrated outburst, along with something metal clattering against his garage floor is audible as I walk up his long, wide, driveway. Listening to him grumble aggressively about "a piece of shit black lil mercedes" makes me chuckle heartily to my self. Expletives about the damage I staged seems to be most common, along with a couple grunts from an unknown task clearly exerting his strength.

The way his breath puffs out entices the introverted slut in me to visualize him underneath me in immense bliss while I ride his dick to my satisfaction, those heavy huffing pants spilling from his lips. Hopefully today's the day I make my dreams come true.

Looking left to right, I notice there's not a soul outside at the moment. That just means step one of my plan is already in action. The dainty diamond rolex on my wrist confirms it's 5pm. Right on time to get fucked and filled with Bucky's nut till it leaks in my panties. Mmmm... Can't wait to rub em all over my pussy later; his milky cream acting as lube while I make myself cum so fuckin hard. I'm lickin my full heart shaped lips in anticipation while plottin on this poor unsuspectin man.

Passing by his new deep blue jaguar, I run a finger along its pristine paint job as I spot Bucky on a creeper underneath my Mercedes. He takes that moment to run a hand through his fresh cut dark locks while wishing it absolute death. It's impossible not to feel a smidge of guilt at the purposeful trouble Bucky's going through at the moment but if everything goes my way, I fully intend to make it up to him by the end of the evening. Shit, hopefully multiple times this evening. It's outta my power not to smile wide at the way my soakin wet pussy flutters at the thought.

Leaning against his ride with palms flat on the hood, I eye fuck my prize thoroughly. Daddy looks so fucking good in his fitted navy blue tee and snug black jeans on his back, his muscled thighs spread wide. The bottom of his shirt lifts a bit to reveal a peek of his firm, incredibly toned tummy as his hips jut upwards. Dark brown boots spread apart wide when he repositions himself, and the fat ass bulge in between his legs grabs my attention real quick.

I'm so fuckin horny just from starin at Bucky, that I gotta squeeze my thighs together for just even a hint of pressure on my pulsating center. My shorts are past drenched where they rest sticky against me. The arousal drippin out plasters my brown thick thighs as my needy little cunt clenches rapidly around nothing. My nipples are so fuckin hard from lightly rubbing against the extremely transparent fit I chose just for him.

"Hey Buck, whats the progress on my baby?" I finally grab his attention as I drum my glossy short jet black nails on the hood of his car.

The wheels on the creeper squeak as he rolls from underneath the source of his current troubles and stands. His eyes focus on the black grime on his hands and he heads to the small sink in the corner of his garage as he responds.

"Woman, I don't know how you manage to damage something on this vehicle every week but it's gotta stop. I'm startin think you just like to come see me."

"Well why not? You're a sight for sore eyes, good lookin."

He dries his hands while laughing at my brazeness and, as always, not taking my corny flirtation serious.

"Boy, you laughin like I won't fuck the daylights outta you right fuckin now."

That flippant response however has him spinnin on his heels to face me. Bucky's vibrant blue eyes grow to orbs and he's rendered speechless as he thoroughly takes in my damn near non existent ensemble. This man is staring at the swell of my perky titties so intently that I know step 2 of my plan is gonna be a piece of cake and I really hope its not my imagination when noticing a twitch from the protrusion in his black jeans.

Dropping the cloth in his hands to the garage floor, he takes long strides till he's standing outside in front of me. His pretty pink lips part and close multiple times as he struggles to speak as he gazes at my nipple covers. Wonder what Daddy's next moves gonna be..

Bucky doesn't say anything at first; but the way he lustfully takes me in gives me goose bumps. His big hands reach around me to grip under my ass and hoist me up against his body. I don't hesitate to wrap my arms and legs around him as he walks us to his parked car, layin me across the warm hood.

"Damn sweetheart, where you plan on goin lookin like this?" Bucky asks, eyes still darting around my body as he presses his clothed hard dick between my legs. The pressure of him against my pussy feels heavy, has my clit thumpin wildly and I'm grindin back without a thought.

"I have a date tonight." I respond breathlessly and that makes his light crystal cerulean eyes snap to mine.

"That right? What're you doin underneath me then, woman? Huh? A little pregame?" He teases, leaning in so close that our lips almost touch.

I shake my head at his questioning as my cheeks heat up from his words. Still, its difficult to feel true embarrasment as his hands glide slowly over my frame, leaving a trail of warmth that makes me press into his palms. Bucky's touch and proximity stuns me a bit, makes my brain fuzzy and pussy clench for him ferally. The small sexy smirk playin at the corner of his lips turns me on just as much as him dry humping me in broad daylight ontop his brand new ride.

"Huh y/n? Is that it? Did you come to me first cause you wanna cum for me first?" He chuckles at me.

Leaning down, his soft lips pecks light kisses from the cheek to my ear. His fingertips skim under my tight bottoms, so dangerously close to my clit as he nips and sucks at my skin. I'm moaning and nodding my assent as I tug him to press against me firmly by the loops of his jeans.

"Fuuuuck.. Lemme feel you then pretty girl."

Bucky's fingers finally dragging across my throbbing button lightly, makin me damn near seize underneath him. I do nothing to mask the loud gasp of his name as the pleasure from just one swipe has me squeezin my eyes shut and grabbin at the top of his jeans in a death grip.

"Damn, my girl is soooo sensitive."

His low groan at my ear makes my soaked pussy flutter quicker and I can feel myself becoming desperate from his teasing touches. The sensation of one hands roaming up my body to gently squeeze over my left tit as the other sweeps across my pussy has me choking on my breaths with a heaving chest. Bucky lifts his head to watch me as he slowly traces circles around my clit, never fully pressing down on it the way I crave.

"Pleeease Buck, pleeeeease." I beg for him to give me more as my incessant yanking on his bottoms pops open the silver button and zipper.

A surprising thanks to the foregoing of underwear is definitely due because I'm then gifted with fattest dick I've ever seen. He's so. Fucking. Perfect. Almost pretty if it werent how girthy his shaft is, the angry flushed head of his dick drooling an abundant stream of precum. I easily notice the weight of him prevents it from slapping upwards; the thick tip of his cock points at my slippery slit. I don't stop pulling at him, humping the tip of his dick while I continue to plead for him to give me what I want most.

"Okay, honey, okay. I'll give you what you want. But lemme take you inside- haaaah, ooooh fuuuuck.."

Our moans mingle togther as one of my harsh tugs forces a few inches of his dick inside my awaiting core. Bucky eyes are wide as saucers as he stares where we connect with an open mouth. His breathing is harsh and loud; strong chest rising and falling rapidly as he quickly grabs my hands from his jeans. I immediately grieve as his touch leaves my tit and clit but my pussy involuntarily clutches at the head of his dick as he pins my wrist to the hood of his car.

"Jesus, woman. Mmmm.. Dammit, aaaaahhh fu- you couldn't wait till I got you inside?"

"Noooo, James. Want you, NEED you noooow. Please Jaaames, pleeease!" I don't notice the volume of my voice rising as I start to lose my fuckin mind.

Bucky's gaze is piercing but frantic, darting from the small puddle forming underneath me on the hood of his car to the way I'm hangin off the end of his dick. But I think it's the way I whine his first name that breaks his resolve. He briefly halts pinnin me down to put my legs over his shoulders. He's then scooping my wrists together in one hand and covering my mouth with the other.

"Fine, pretty girl, don't say I didn't warn your bad ass. Tried to give us some privacy. Now you gonna take this dick no matter what."

The first pump of his cock has him slidin in halfway, the river spilling from me aiding his stroke in. Still, his fat ass shaft splits my delicate walls apart swiftly, the intense pressure has my glossy y/e/c eyes and lined lips opening wide. I squeal loudly gainst his palm, not expecting Bucky to already be sitting in my guts even though he wasn't all the way in yet. WTF..

"Fuuck, sobigBuck, you're HUGE." I whimper, peering up at him with vacant eyes. He leers down at me with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, but my girls gonna have to get used to it huh?" He asks, starting fuck up into my gushy slit.

I don't mean to yank at his hold on my wrists but his next 2 thrust are so fuckin deep. My resistance doesn't free me, though it pulls him off balance and he slides in to the hilt. The tension in my tummy deepens as I feel his cock diggin into my pussy in places no man's ever reached. If it weren't for the hand cupping my mouth, I'm sure the scream I let out would be deafening. Bucky moans out praises as I squeeze my eyes shut tight and try my best to breathe through my nose.

"You're doing so damn-ohshit- weeeeell honey, takin me sooooo good. Mmmmmm.. Chokin the fuckin life out my dick y/n. Not s-sure how long I can last in this hot, tight ass, little pussy, sweetheart. Fuuuuuuck.. Keep being a good girl for me, try to keep quiet okay?"

I can feel Bucky's stare on me even through my close lids, so I nod my compliance. In reality, I pray to god that i dont scream out 'Daddy' for the whole neighborhood to hear while he's dickin me down.

He takes his hands from my wrists and mouth, sliding them down for a quick grab of my plump brown breasts, then to grip at my waist. The pull of his dick slowly slidin out then swiftly plunging back inside has me panting loudly with furrowed brows. I have to cover my own mouth this time, both hands pressed against my lips as he repeats the motion of his hips over and over until he's fucking me in a unhurried but deeply precise rhythm.

"Ohmygod James! Sogood-you'resogood! Don't stop, pleeeease d-don'tstop!" My muffled cries are crazed as he finally stuffs me with dick.

"I won't, honey, won't stop till you cream all over me. Wouldn't dreeeeam of it, baby. Can't stop till you cum on my cock. Fuuuuuck you feel like heaven baby, pussy got me ready to nut an we jus started. Haaah oooh God, sooo good, need you to cum first, y/n."

I'm already covered in perspiration as the breeze races across my nut brown skin and cools me down. Its about the only thing I notice, sounds of the passing cars and chirping birds drowned out by the loud rushing in my ears as Bucky thoroughly fucks the shit outta me. The pleasure swirling in my tummy is so fucking taut, and I know when I cum it's gonna be fucking spectacular.

His unrushed pace begins to speed up, the impact of him pumpin into me rocks his car back and forth as his grunts become more frequent. My knees tremble near his ears from the onslaught, from hearing how good Daddy feels because of me.

He looks just as delicious as he sounds, his body so fuckin tense as I witness how he loses himself in my pussy. Normally his light blue eyes are what stun me, but the dark pupils so damn dilated captivate me into a trance. I stare back helplessly as he gives me the best dick I ever had.

The hands holding my waist clutch snugly, usin his leverage to help fuck me a bit faster. His dick twitches against my walls heavily as Bucky groans out his pleasure, grunts out how he can't take the creamy ring getting thicker around the base of his dick.

"Can I-mmmmohfuckohfuckhoney-can I kiss you sweetheart?"

The sugary sweet question is sudden and takes me aback, is almost funny considering how severely deep he's seated inside of me. I might've even laughed if I wasn't keening from the amazing dick I was currently receiving. Too overwhelmed to answer, I release my mouth and clasp my fingers behind his neck, pulling his face to mine.

Bucky presses a quick kiss to my mouth with soft pink lips. Then another. And one more, the third one deepening with passion. It doesnt matter that he slows the pace of his hips to a crawl again; he continues to grind and dig so deep that his cock curves and hits a firm but gummy spot inside my cunt. It's too damn difficult after that to keep in sync of his lips as he drags his spasming dick across my g spot with too much fuckin accuracy. My sobs against his mouth doesn't stop Bucky's assault on my body. I know what time it is when his hand leaves my waist to press a firm quick circle directly on my clit.

"Mmmmm, pussy f-feels too fuckin 'mazin y/n, sooooclosebaby. I'm gonna buss babygirl, gonna fill that pretty lil kitty to the brim. Need you to cum too, honey. Pleeease." Bucky pleas with me in between messy damp kisses.

I'm way too near my end for full sentences, but from the way I mewl 'James' repeatedly, he seems to get the point. His grinding comes to an abrupt halt before he pulls his dick all the way out and vigorously stabs back in over and over, smashing my g spot and flicking my clit ferociously.

"Bu- haaaah! Aaaahh fuuuu- James! Ohgo- mmmm.. Uhn, uhn, uhn, JAMES!"

My orgasm is almost incomprehensible at first, the pressure in my gut exploding, spiraling outta control and I squirt fiercely against his torso. Warm lips engulf my mouth, sucking and nipping, probably to hush the animalistic noises coming from me as I quiver and shake underneathe him. Its like an avalanche of sensation, so intense I have to grip and claw at his shoulders to ground myself.

"Ahhhh, fuck y/n! Can't take feelin you gush my dick like this. Gonna give this pussy just what she needs honey, fucking cummin sweetheart! Ahhhh shiiiit! Sogood, sogood! Fuuuuuck!" Bucky huffs and puffs his pleasure against my swollen lips.

His fist slams down against his hood, ceasing his rubbing on my pulsating clit as he spurts deep inside my trembling cunt. I can't help but to soak in his grunts of love and praises to me.

Baring his weight on me to keep me in place, he splashes another lava hot jet of cum against the walls of my pussy and it feels too fucking good to feel James Buchanan Barnes fill me up with savagely massive load of cum. I watch him quake as he erupts 2 more explosive sprays inside before pulling out, shooting the last of his cum on my cocoa brown slit.

"You planned this.." Bucky accuses, not wasting any time to catche his breath. His eyes planted where he smears his thick cream allover my pussy as he waits patiently for my response. Daddy doesn't stop till my pussy's covered in his cum. Only then does slip my legs from his shoulders, my snug bottoms back in place and his still very hard dick back into his jeans.

Tired eyes meet my heavy-lidded gaze but I take a few deep breaths to steady myself before I answer. My pussy is already sore but fluttering for more as I bask underneath Bucky's muscular frame.

"I did. Came up with a mastermind plan." I say proudly, my own smirk comin out to tease him.

"Oh really? And how many steps did this 'mastermind plan' have?" He asks with a raised brow, as he zips and buttons his pants

"Just 4." I answer shortly, knees comin up to squeeze at his hips and rub my hands down his abs to the loops of his jeans.

"Which were?"

"Well step 1, purposefully fuck up my car so-"

Bucky cuts me off mid sentence, leaning down so the tip of his nose almost touches mine. His hands grip each of my thighs firmly as quickly yanks me flush against his body and speaks in a low growl.

"I knew it woman! I've been wasting my fuckin time workin on your goddamn car for weeks and- You know what? Talk is cheap; time to pay the piper, honey."

[ravers8fantasy]

Sounds that remind me of the wii circuits except I lwk suck at describing things and I made this on the spot because I was bored!!!

A tad bit different to the usual stuff!! dont take this too seriously its all yap no bite also king hippo gif because he's swag 😔

Litte mac: the roblox yeah! Voice thing and minecraft walking on grass sfx on the xbox 360

Glass joe: lego bricks falling sfx

Von kaiser: a cuckoo clock like when it pops out yknow and its like woowo woowo woowo or tank tyres track things rotating so they make that low clip clip clip sound

Disco kid: those party blower things that make a horn sound and get loud af

King hippo: when you hit a pumpkin and it makes a drum sound

Piston hondo: the ambience in an underground subway also the roar of a racing car when driving

Bear hugger: a bear roar what can I say😼

Great tiger: the discord notification sfx (when he shakes his head in his cutscenes it plays a lil sound which I swear down is the same sound)

Don flamenco: the power pamplona game opening (idk I saw the bull and was like OH YEAH then realised he's a bull fighter) also obvs the spain level music cus yknow hes spanish and the level is spanish and yeah well u get it ill stop yapping-

Aran ryan: the sound of me playing my 9 year old recorder but I start laughing so my rendition of 'twinkle twinkle little star' turns into bird of prey shrieking for 5 minutes'

Soda popinski: the buzz a refrigerator makes when you open it. Also the buzz of those like recantgular oldish lights

Bald bull: kettle boiling and when you pull on a rope and it makes a stretch sound

Super macho man: magical twinkles, steel guitar surfer music and the sound of wait like when you go use a machine at the gym and drop like whatever ur pulling/pushing so then the weights on the side drop and make a loud metallic bonk sound

Mr Sand man: honk shoo honk shoo honk shoo and the ahhhhh ahh ahhh at the beginning of gangsters paradise by coolio

-------------------------

If you read allat then thank you for your time🕴🏽 also I feel like ive forgotten someone here but idk mabye the brainrot is making me go cray cray

[mercurysnotes]

Mixtape | No One Like You

Eddie Munson x reader

★・・・・・・★

[confession] [seeing eddie at a show and you’re in the audience] [you are invited to his trailer cause his uncle was out] [play fighting] [he gives u a mixtape] [silly lil oneshot..with a small bonus] [if i missed a tag lemme know~]

[2.1k words]

★・・・・・・★

The bar smelled of old carpet and cigars that were smushed into the ground. Dim lights would only illuminate the stage as it bounced from the chairs and tables. Rummaging through my bag I pulled out my fake ID card praying they wouldn’t question it. Eddie walked towards the bouncer, placing his hand on their shoulder and said “They’re with me...” and gave me a quick wink. My face flushed as I lowered my head passing the bouncer who never let their eyes off me.

“Thanks...” I said to Eddie as he was now a bit further up with his back towards me.

“No problem. I gotta get ready now, see you after.” He said shooting corny fingers guns leaving as fast as he came. I weaved around the chairs to find table that was close enough to the stage but wasn’t so obviously close enough for him to notice me quickly. As the set began, the lights slightly dimmed for an even more dramatic start.

I could feel the beat of the drums through the chipped worn-out floorboards. The strums of the guitars flowing through my veins as I couldn’t help but slightly head bang along with Eddie. Corroded Coffin was playing a song from Megadeth, yet I couldn’t put my finger on the exact song.

Eddie and I have been friends for little over half a year. We met by him asking me to join his new DnD campaign. I didn’t know anything about stuff like that, I guess I was the type to look the part. Just wearing a different band t-shirt and jeans almost every day. Yet, something about it made Eddie come to me that day and ever since we’ve been inseparable.

Back on the set, I could see the way Eddie and his other band mate, Gareth, were shredding with all their might. The way the beads of sweat glistened down their faces as their passion continued to shine.

“You take a mortal man and put him in control.”

“And watch him a God, watch people’s head a roll.”

They sang as I couldn’t bring my eyes to tear away from Eddie when he grabbed the

microphone. A little after the song had concluded, Eddie and his bandmates would finish their act with a different song they haven’t performed yet. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. Since it felt as though it was such an exclusive moment to be shared with you and the other patrons of the bar.

After the finale song, Eddie was out back taking a quick smoke break as I decided to wait for him to get back. Seeing the other bandmates come out first I went to them to compliment them all on their performances.

               “Thanks for coming out!” Jeff says with a toothy smile as he looked around at the other members so they could agree. I said of course and asked if Eddie was going to come out soon. They just said that it shouldn’t be long. The rest of the band went to the bar, and I couldn’t help but sit at the same table I watched the show, softly doodling on a napkin with a spear pen I found in my jean jacket.

               “Hey there, sweetheart” Eddie said, and I quickly shot my head up with a large smile. “Oh, Eddie you were so good!!! And I don’t just say that cause you’re my friend.” I said with a smirk leaning and poking his chest. “Yeah yeah, I know, thanks for coming out. Seriously.” he said with his toothy grin and eyes morphing into being more sincere. All I did was teasingly humph and walk over to join his bandmates to grab a drink. Eddie couldn’t help but follow behind like a lost puppy.

✧.*

After a few drinks and a lot of laughs, the band decided it was best to call it a night. Luckily, they all managed to make it home safely and Eddie turned his head to me.

               “So..how you are getting home?” He asked with a slight tilt of his head making the lose crazy curls softly land on his face. “Well...I was probably just gonna walk home like how I got here...it’s not too far..” I started leaning back onto the bar counter taking in the calm energy.

“Why don’t you come and hang with me for a bit at my trailer..my uncles not home so it’s not too much of a burden..unless you don’t want to of course-” He said with a soft tone almost as if he was nervous I would reject his offer. “Sure.” I said so fast it cut off the end of his sentence. All he did was smile and get up to grab his things. I happily followed him and made my way to his van.

               A short drive after we made it to the trailer park that Eddie lived in and pulled into his driveway. I tried to get out before Eddie quickly yelled, ‘Nope don’t move’ and he made his way to my side of the van and dramatically opened the door saying ‘Malady’. I could only giggle in response with a medieval time accent ‘thank you kind sir’ taking his hand and stepping down.

               Eddie opened the door and throw his jean jacket on the couch and said, “Make yourself at home!” and continued to the kitchen to grab a beer.

“Is all you drink, beer?” I said with another teasing tone that hasn’t seemed to leave since I first saw him again after his gig. “Is all you do, being a nerd?” He said thinking that would affect me only making me hysterically laugh. “That couldn’t be even more ironic coming from you” I said between gasping for air between my chuckles. “Ha. Ha” Eddie said rolling his eyes taking his first sip.

✧.*

Some more time has passed leaving it to be around 12 in the morning. Not feeling tired I asked Eddie if he’d want to just watch a movie until we fell asleep. He agreed and plopped a movie in and grabbed blankets and pillows, throwing one to my head. “Oops” he said with a devilish grin, and I pouted grabbing the pillow throwing it back hitting him. “Oh, it’s so on!” I squealed and lunged at him with a spear pillow that he brough over. We continued to wrestle, hitting each other back and forth. I then grabbed a spear blanket trying to wrap him up with no use. Somehow as we were both panting from the lack of stopping, I found myself straddling him on the ground holding a pillow above my head ready to strike. As realization sets, I quickly got up apologizing.

               “Oh, jeez sorry didn’t mean to get so caught up in it...” I said slightly flushed hair now all messed up trying to brush it down with my hand, not making as much eye contact. Eddie only sat up from the ground propping himself with his hands and looked at me with starry eyes. “Nah, don’t apologize I started it...self-defense” he said with that stupid toothy grin again holding his hand up mimicking the scouts honor salute. I rolled my eyes and pulled my head back falling onto my back. I started to giggle as my hands went to cover my face. We were both still on the floor, me lying on my back and Eddie’s legs crossed watching my laugh. As I continued to laugh, Eddie seemingly got up and made his way to his room. I noticed and turned my head from the ground and watched him leave the room.

               “Where you goin’??” I shouted slightly so he heard from the other room. “I just remembered something!!” He replied with the same volume and finally made his way out with something in his hand. I finally propped myself up sitting cross-legged and watched Eddie sit back down the same manner. “So, uh...I just thought I’d give this to you now before I forgot again...” He said just plopping it in my hands with no second thought.

               “Think of it like an early…birthday gift.” He continued and fidgeted with his metal rings. “Oh..thank you Ed you really didn’t have too.” I said, looking up at him and taking his hand in mine. A moment passed of me holding his hand and I quickly took it back fearful of what he thought and began to examine the gift. It seemed to be a mixtape that said ‘Love’ and nothing else. I couldn’t help but tilt my head in confusion asking why the title said love.

Eddie bashfully looked around trying to find and answer scratching the back of his neck nervously. “How about I take you to my room to listen to it...I have a Walkman and headphones, I’ll let you listen in there...” He said almost frantically grabbing my wrist, dragging me to his room. As if in a quick secession, I was sitting alone on Eddie’s bed, with the said headphones and Walkman playing Eddie’s ‘Love’ mixtape. The first song that started to play was, “No One Like You” from Scorpions. Which was the first song Eddie introduced me to since I asked him if I were a song, what would it be.

That’s strange, why would this be the first song to a mixtape named Love for me, for my birthday.

“There’s no one like you, I can’t wait for the nights with you.”

“I imagine the things we do.”

“I just wanna be loved by you.”

I blinked. I continued to listen carefully, trying to understand and comprehend the lyrics as best I could. Does this mean what I think it means. I had to listen to the rest of the playlist. Was he showing me all the romantic rock songs cause he’d think I’d like it? So many thoughts were running through my head and before I could continue to spiral, Eddie opened the door to check in on me.                “So...what did you think...?” He said still fidgeting with his silver rings. I looked up to see him make his way to the bed, taking a seat. “I did like it...I’m just wondering why you added ‘No One Like You’ by the Scorpions knowing that I already have their song taped?” I said confused and Eddie just chuckles from the question.

“Why am I not surprised for how oblivious you are” he said holding his stomach with more of his giggles leaving his mouth. “Huh??” I questioned even more confused.

“Did you listen to the lyrics?” He said and I just nodded. “Well, hell, it’s how I feel about you, dork.” He said with an even larger toothy grin than he has ever had before. My body froze, blinking ever so slightly and my blood rushed towards my cheeks. Eddie only sat patiently and silently waiting for a response watching the way my eyes darted with thoughts and memories playing behind my eyes.

Finally looking up stars in my eyes and slow grin rising on my face. I lunged to Eddie, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, giving him a huge hug. I felt the way Eddies chest moved as he giggled from the contact, and I continued to lay on his chest with my arms tightly hanging on.

“Oh Eddie..I’ve felt the same way since you first spoke to me!” I whispered into his shoulder burring my face into his hair taking in his wooden cologne. His hands were lightly resting on each side of my waist.

He finally propped himself up making me somehow manage to find my way sitting on his thigh and continued to snuggle into his shoulder. “Is it...alright if I kissed you, sweetheart?” Eddie asked softly placing his calloused fingers on my chin, bring it up to make eye contact with him. “Yes...” I said leaning into his lips and our lips synced with one another.

Bonus:

               After the sweet confession, Eddie promised me on a date to go to the aquarium that was just a couple miles away since I’ve been begging to see it with someone. I couldn’t have been more ecstatic, and we went back to the living room to continue watching the movie as his large hands wrapped around my body snuggling in my soft body. Slowly after falling asleep together on the couch.

[kayharrisons]

Let's have some fun, this beat is sick, wanna take a ride on your- [Bjorn x fem!reader x Kay] [NSFW, 18+]

You're the manager of the up and coming band Corbelan. Only you wish you weren't when you catch your lead singer and drummer fucking.

A/N: i can't lie guys I'm coming out as a Kay x Bjorn shipper 🧍‍♀️I'm highkey obsessed with them so have this random au where the Romulus crew are a band and you catch Kay and Bjorn fucking! Title is from Love Game by Lady Gaga!

Not SUPER important but here's everyone's roles in the band ehehe:

Kay: lead vocals

Rain: keyboard

Bjorn: drums, male vocals

Navarro and Tyler: guitar, backing vocals

Warnings: cousin incest, manager x bandmembers, threesome, sex, face sitting, p in v penetration, fingering, jacking off Bjorn, lil bit of name calling, Bjorn being a smug little shit, catching people in the act, so very unprofessional oh my god there's so many employment boundaries being broken here, Kay and Bjorn are freaky and I rate them for it, idk if the positions will make sense but fuck it we BALL

"You're fucking kidding me, right?" you ask, phone gripped tightly between your fingers, eye twitching as Bjorn stuffs himself back into his jeans, as Kay frantically pulls back up her underwear and her overalls.

"Hey, look-" Kay begins, eyes so impossibly wide. "-it's not what- it's not what it looks like-"

"Actually," Bjorn damn near purrs, slinging an arm around Kay's shoulders and leaning over her, smirking at the fury on your face. "S'actly what it looks like."

"You're- you two are cousins-"

"Not actually related-" Kay defends, voice nothing but a squeak, a shuddery exhale escaping her as Bjorn presses a kiss to her throat.

"Wouldn't stop us even if we were, would it love?" he grins, nipping at her throat before straightening up.

"You're supposed to go on in five fucking minutes-"

"Relax," Bjorn holds up his hands, leaning against the back of the couch, slouched over as he lights up a cigarette. "Didn't fuck her long enough to make her lose her voice."

"Bjorn!" Kay chides, cheeks pink. "...my voice will be fine."

Your eye twitches at the sight of them. Kay wringing her hands anxiously in front of her, Bjorn staring at you and taking drags of his cigarette. Your lead singer and drummer, ladies and gentlemen, just got caught screwing like horny fucking rabbits. You'd literally watched Bjorn's dick pound in and out of Kay's soaked cunt, watched her nails claw at the back of his t-shirt, watched him desperately grope at her chest.

And they're fucking cousins. Technically. Literally. Fucking hell.

"Kay, go." you damn near bark. She nods, sharing one last look with Bjorn, who strokes a hand through her hair and nods back at her. He is completely shameless in the way he stares after her ass as she does.

Jesus fucking christ.

You should've been a librarian or something. Something nice, wholesome, where you don't have to deal with this shit.

"What would you have done if it'd been Tyler who'd walked in?"

"Well," Bjorn hums, taking a thoughtful drag of his cigarette, before pointing his fingers to the wall. "Be a me sized hole in it right 'bout now. And besides, he fuckin' knocks, unlike some people."

"Don't take that goddamn tone with me, Bjorn," you snipe back, all sickly sweet. "I'm not the one fucking my cousin."

"Shame. Bet you'd look gorgeous all fucked out after a tryst."

Your eye twitches again. He smirks wider. The smoke curling from his cigarette and into his face truly makes him look like a fucking demon.

Ugh, like one of those hot ones that would be on like... Supernatural or whatever.

"Finish that," you snap, gesturing to his cigarette. "And get on stage. I'll talk to you both after about..."

"Right, sure," he hums, legs crossed at the ankles. "Me and Kay, you're mad. Yeah, yeah."

"Bjorn-"

"Jealous, love?" he smirks, cocking his head. "Wish it were you getting bent over and fucked? My cock in that tight cunt of yours?"

You flush, stammering, because what? This is all sorts of levels of unprofessional and-

Bjorn's smirk deepens, his eyes darkening. "Or do you wish you were me? Picture yourself fucking my cousin's pretty cunt, do ya? Imagining your mouth on it? Fingers? Don't leave out any details, darlin'-"

"Out!" you bark, heart hammering in your chest.

Bjorn holds up his hands, stubbing out his cigarette before sidling past you and out into the hall, following the directions towards the stage.

Two minutes later, you hear the guitar riff of the opening song start up, just as you sink into the couch, your head buried in your hands and a curious throbbing between your legs.

Maybe Bjorn hadn't been too far off after all.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The pair stare at you sitting across from them. The rest of the band had vacated the building, returning to the hotel for a night of well earned rest.

These two, however, had hung back per your request.

Kay's knee bounces anxiously, only stilled by Bjorn's hand gently coming to rest atop it, giving it a comforting squeeze. You watch them, feeling as though you're outside of your body in that moment, as they seem to know and anticipate the other's movements befor they make them.

Bjorn has always kept Kay steady. You'd picked up on it, encouraged it, even. He kept her calm, be it a hand on her shoulder or one of his distracting and outlandish stories. It was hard to miss, the way her shoulders seemed to relax around him, how her face fell into nothing but fond warmth. He was always the first to jump to her defence, to tell tabloids and reporters to suck his dick and fuck off when they quizzed him on Kay's supposed "loose" love life. The others did too, of course, but Bjorn had always held a special kind of vitriol in his eyes when doing so, an odd tenseness to his form.

And Kay? Well, she'd always kept his temper in check, placating him with mere looks or a gentle touch to his arm. Similarly, Kay was always first to his defence, albeit less aggressively than Bjorn was for her, but her soft words and furrowed brow sometimes felt like more of a hard hit than Bjorn's hot headed impulsiveness.

Little things that you'd thought nothing of, at the time. But now, knowing what you know...

"Does anyone else know?" you ask, arms crossed, brow furrowed.

"No," Kay says, quietly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "It's... hard to explain our relationship, I'm sure you understand that-"

"Cousins." you retort, and her face darkens in colour. Bjorn's, however, darkens like that of an incoming thunder storm.

"Not actually fuckin' related to her, as we said earlier." he snips back, only relaxing when Kay strokes a hand up and down his spine. "Look, we love each other, we share no genes, what's the big fuckin' deal? It's a bit, y'know, odd, we know that-"

"Had a lot of crisises about it!" Kay adds, and Bjorn grunts his acknowledgement.

"-but it's not like we're doin' anythin' wrong!"

"You think that media outlets are gonna see it that way?" you ask, sighing. "Or even Tyler-"

"I've got him handled!" Kay insists, and even Bjorn arches a brow at that. "Promise. I know how to handle him."

You huff heavily through your nose. "I'm not happy about any of this, hope you both know that."

"Don't give a fuck, love," Bjorn informs you, cheerfully. "If we're bein' frank, I still think you're jealous-"

"That-" you stammer, cheeks burning. Kay raises her brows, cocking her head in thought as she looks at you. Her stare is just as piercing as her cousin's own. "-is completely unprofessional and crossing a line and I'd care for you to not-"

"Are you?" Kay asks, oh so sweetly, as she leans forward a little in her seat. Bjorn's hand idly strokes up and down her leg, his eyes locked on you.

"S'like I told ya, love," he murmurs in her ear, nose nudging her temple as his gaze burns into yours. "She doesn't know who to be jealous of."

Kay hums, body instinctively melting into his. She turns her head, nudging her nose against his, her warm eyes searching his face, drawing his eyes back to hers. His free hand reaches up, cuppping her cheek with a tenderness you've never known him to have.

Your stomach clenches a little at the sight. Your eyes dart between them both.

You have no idea who to look at.

Kay smiles warmly, lips not quite yet meeting Bjorn's. "I think it's both, baby," she hums, glancing over to you, warm smile turning into something sharper, almost feline. "Look at her, trying to figure it out."

Bjorn chuckles softly as he looks to you, brushing his lips against Kay's temple, his icy blue eyes feel more like molten heat than anything cold in that moment.

"Wanna give her a show, then?" he asks, his hand sliding up her thigh, oh so gently trailing along her inner thigh before cupping her cunt through her overalls. Kay whimpers softly, grinding her crotch down into his hand. "S'a good girl," he encourages, pecking her forehead, before his hand roves up her stomach, skimming over her breasts before unhooking the straps of her overalls. "Off." he taps her still clothed stomach, and she grins at him, one he matches with equal intensity.

Has... Bjorn ever looked so happy in all this time you've been managing the band?

Wait.

Why the fuck is that your concern?

Kay is literally standing before you, sliding her overalls off, along with kicking off her shoes. She's left in her cropped tee and panties, and your stomach flutters at the sight. The throbbing between your legs pulses.

"You like?" she asks, twirling one of her curls around her finger. Bjorn inclines his head at you, brows raised in challenge. "We can always stop-"

"I don't think she could if she even wanted to," he damn near sing songs, rising to his feet and moving behind her. He loops his arms around her waist, leaning his chin against her shoulder. "Look at her, squirmin' in her fuckin' seat. Wouldn't be surprised if she's ruined the fuckin' upholstery with how soaked her cunt is."

"Bjorn," Kay chides, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. "Don't be crude." he rolls his eyes, but is sufficiently chided. Until, that is, Kay looks at you with her dark eyes, something hungry in them that you've never seen on her usually oh so sweet face. "Unless you're into that?" she asks you, and Bjorn perks up again. "I know I am. But I know it's not for everybody. Just because I like it when he calls me a dirty little slut doesn't mean you will, y'know?"

Jesus fucking christ.

"I..."

You've always been career driven, always pushed to be the best, to be worth the money, hell, to find the people who make the money. And this? It crosses so many boundaries, would tar your reputation if it ever got out, could ruin your personal relationships...

And yet.

Yet, as you watch Bjorn's fingers trail down Kay's stomach, as you watch him slip them beneath the lace of her underwear, as you watch his fingers circle her clit a few times before disappearing into her cunt, as you watch Kay's eyes roll back and her mouth part...

You find yourself unable to care.

You launch yourself at them, slamming your lips against Kay's, to which she squeaks into your mouth with surprise. You cup her face with one hand, fingers moving back to tangle in her hair. Your other hand moves back, grips tightly onto Bjorn's t-shirt, before sliding down to his belt buckle, fumbling with the metal a moment before undoing it, fingers quickly making short work of his zipper before reaching inside and-

"No boxers?" you query, pulling away from Kay's soft lips to squint at him. She whines a little at the loss, and you soothingly run your thumb over her cheek. "Jesus, you really are a whore, huh, Bjorn?"

"Shut up-" he breaks off into a whimper as you wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your hand up once, twice-

"He really is," Kay hums, leaning back against him, head against his shoulder. "All you gotta do is give him a look and he'll cream his fucking pants like he's a damn virgin. It's super flattering, actually."

Bjorn groans, burying his face in Kay's curls as you work your hand steadily up and down his rock hard dick. "This was a mistake, gettin' you two together in the same room like this-" he mutters, and Kay reaches back, tangling a hand in his hair and lightly tugging on the locks.

"You sure about that, baby?" she purrs, meeting your eyes with a smirk. "You don't want me to tell our manager about all the times you've come outta meetings with her so bricked up you had to fuck your cousin? Or when we'd tell each other about what we'd let her do to us?"

Your cunt pulses again, tongue darting out to moisten your lips. "What would you let me do?" You ask Kay, as Bjorn is too busy whining and whimpering into Kay's hair, his hips bucking with every pump of your fist.

Kay smiles, free hand reaching out, ghosting over your breasts before trailing up your neck and oh so gently cupping your cheek. "Everything," she breathes, leaning her forehead against yours. "But our favourite is- is you letting me sit on your face while Bjorn fucks you."

You whimper at the thought, cunt gushing the second the words leave her lips.

Kay giggles softly, resting her hands on your waist, before sliding them up and over your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze. Her fingers make short work of your blouse buttons, soon sliding the material down your arms, her warm hands leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"You're so pretty," she compliments, breathlessly, and this time she's the one lurching forward, slamming her lips into yours as her fingers roughly grope at your breasts. You moan into her mouth, and Bjorn swears softly from behind Kay, whining into her hair again. That is, before he's reaching out with his free hand, tangling it in your hair and yanking your lips from Kay's to his.

His lips are so soft, for someone who can be so viscious with his tongue.

The three of you stumble over to the couch, a tangle of limbs, of desperate kisses, of wandering hands, of clothes being rapidly shed.

Before you know it, the three of you are bare, you're being oh so gently pushed onto your back by Bjorn, who runs his hands down your legs before parting your legs for him. Kay sits close by your head, fingers gently kneading your breasts, rolling and pinching your nipples between her expert fingers.

"You sure?" Bjorn asks you, idly pumping his hand up and down his cock, eyes half shut from the pleasure, the lust.

"Yeah," you breathe, and he exhales shakily, leaning forward with his hands braced against your knees. He rubs the swollen head of his cock against your soaked folds, resulting in cries from you both, before he inches his way inside of you. You whimper at the fullness, the delicious ache of him stretching you with each and every inch.

"Fuckin' shit-" Bjorn cries out, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back, chest heaving as in inhales desperately for air. "So fuckin' tight, sweetheart- christ, it's like a fuckin' vice-"

You babble out something incoherent, and Kay giggles at it, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips, before sitting up and leaning over to peck Bjorn, her fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him forward, deeper inside of you.

You cry out, arching your back and squeezing your eyes shut tight as Bjorn moans into Kay's mouth. She shuffles forward, thighs on either side of your face, her soaked cunt inches away from your mouth.

"You okay with-" you silence her question by grabbing her hips and slamming her down onto your face, hands gripping at her thighs as you start to eagerly lap at her soaked folds.

Kay moans, fingers clutching Bjorn's shoulders as she starts to buck her hips to and fro against your face, her eyes heavy as she watches Bjorn's cock disappear in and out of you.

"I knew you'd like it," Bjorn mutters, smirking at Kay as her dark eyes flick to his. "Dirty little slut, aren'tcha, Kay, love?"

"Yeah," she gasps, as your tongue circles her clit, as your moan sends a shock up her spine. "But you like that about me, cousin."

He whimpers at that, lurching forward and tangling his hands in her hair as he slams his lips against hers, his thrusts staggering a moment before resuming his prior brutal pace.

You've never cum from just penetration alone, but fuck you're going to tonight. The combination of Kay's wet heat, the taste of her, and Bjorn's dick filling you up in all the right ways, the thrill of it all... you can already feel it building.

"Oh just like that, baby," Kay encourages you, groaning and leaning her head back, rocking her hips harder, faster. You moan at the feeling, at her wetness coating your tongue, your mouth. You fingers dig into her thighs, nails leaving crescent shaped marks in her smooth skin, as you speed up your tongue against her clit, spelling your name against the flesh. "Jesus- shit- fuck-"

Kay near collapses her full weight onto your face, it's only Bjorn reaching out and holding her up that stops her. You moan against her pulsing cunt, unable to stop yourself from lapping up her wetness, from lightly teasing her clit and poking your tongue in and out of her pussy. Kay whimpers, tapping at your waist. "Baby, fuck, baby I'm so sensitive, I can't-"

"She can," Bjorn encourages you, squeezing your thigh, as his other hand moves between your joined bodies, his nimble fingers gathering up your own wetness and moving to your clit. You moan against Kay's cunt again, which causes her to splutter, her fingers clutching the couch to keep herself upright. "C'mon, love, think you can make her cum again? Cause I do, reckon it'd be real easy for you to make my cousin a right fuckin' mess."

Kay whines softly, even as you continue your teasing ministrations against her. Her hips buck against your face, craving her release yet again.

"She's desperate for it," Bjorn groans, as his pace grows sloppier, his own release nearing. "Fuck, her cunt never gets enough. Always greedy for it, aintcha, cuz?" he asks her, receiving another whine in response. He laughs breathlessly, removing his hand from your thigh to grab at her throat, squeezing lightly. "S'only me that usually gets her off this good, but you, love?" He coos at you, fingers speeding up against your clit. "I knew you'd manage, fuck, knew you'd be perfect for us to screw. Just as much of a desperate slut as my cousin, aren'tcha? I could tell from a mile away that'cha needed a good fuck, the right cock to driv you fuckin' stupid," he grunts, hiking your leg up high around his waist as he drills into you.

You can only choke out a moan of his name against Kay's cunt, as you feel your release build and build, before stars explode behind your eyes and your back arches off of the couch, your wail muffled by Kay's body.

Bjorn swears loudly, before collapsing forward, panting for breath as his dick twitches and pulses inside of you with his own release, filling you up with his cum. You damn near cum again from that sensation alone.

Kay continues to rock against your face as you and Bjorn recover, and it doesn't take her long to reach her second orgasm, collapsing backwards onto the couch with a content sigh, her arm over her eyes and her legs shaking.

The three of you remain in silence for a minute, the only sounds being that of your staggered breathing, all of you trying to catch your breath.

Until...

"Hang on!" Bjorn sits up, pointing a finger at Kay. "No fair you came twice and we only did the once! You really are greedy, jesus fuckin' christ-"

"You were the one encouraging me to get her to cum again." You remind him, arching a brow as you wipe Kay's slick from your face.

"Still!" He protests, pouting. "I demand a rematch-"

"This was a match?" Kay asks, raising her brows and lowering her arm from her eyes.

"Fuckin' whateva- I still think that we should get to cum twice-" he gestures between you and him, smirking at Kay. "Dontcha agree? Round two, anyone?"

You tilt your head back to look at Kay, and she looks back down at you. A beat passes.

You both burst out into a fit of giggles, which causes Bjorn to pout even further as he defends himself.

Despite your giggles... well, round 2 starts not even ten minutes later.

[s1eept0ken]

Tease ☣︎ II x Fem!Reader

warnings-smut,smut,smut! Used to it by now :3

a/n-okay so I realised how LITTLE I have written of II someone needs to give out mans a lil more attention here!

MDNI!

꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎

There were only a few more days until ii went back on tour, he was stressing out and you wanted to help in a different way that most would consider “stress relief”. You tried everything to get him to fuck you or for him to let you do something! But no nothing but you remembered, he hates when you’re bratty. You’re his good girl you shouldn’t be acting all dumb like that! The rest of the band were coming over today so you saw it as the perfect opportunity to get under his skin.

You stood next to iii looking up at him innocently, slapping his arm ever so slightly whenever he’d make a joke out of something, you could tell that ii was close to losing it but he kept his cool. Well that was until he watched as Vessel came up behind you placed his hands on your hips softly for a few seconds, I mean you didn’t even plan that! But you knew ii had enough. He walked over to you and took your hand pulling you away leading you upstairs “just remembered there’s something wrong with my drums I gotta fix be right back” he said looking back at the others with slight annoyance in his tone.

Your heart was racing with the thoughts of what was gonna happen now, your adrenaline pumping this is what you wanted after a week of practically begging! you knew you’d be in for it though. Once the two of you made it to the bedroom he lets go of you and indicates for you to go lay down for him, which you do. He locks the door and pulls his top off climbing on top of you, sucking your neck softly. “Such a little whore aren’t you? Wouldn’t fuck you for so long so you had to go and be a little slut around my friends huh” he mumbled into your soft skin, undoing your top.

He unclasps your bra and began teasing your soft breasts, kissing and sucking softly on one and gently groping the other. It’s not enough though, you wanted more so you thrust your hips up but he’s quick to get a tight grip on them and push them down. “So impatient today aren’t we?” He chuckles as he leans down, kissing your belly down to your pants. He looks up at you for consent and you give him it, he quickly pulls down your pants and panties. He leans in and kisses your clit softly causing you to whimper out. He slides his fingers up and down and around in circles around your entrance, teasing you. He kisses your inner thighs and lowers his face into your warm, sweet pussy. He grips your thighs tightly as his tongue works up and down on you, he pulls his face away and slides two fingers inside of you. Pumping them in and out as you’re a moaning mess. “G-gonna cum baby…” you whimpered out gripping the bed sheets but just as you’re about to, pulls his fingers out. You whimpered out due to the loss of pleasure and to the fact that he just interrupted your orgasm!

You sat up and gave him a pleading look as he takes his two fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. “Naughty girls don’t get to cum just yet” he whispers out as he began removing himself from his boxers. He leans down puts one of his hands roughly on your sides and lines his cock with your entrance, slowly moving in circles teasing you. Without a warning he thrusts his thick cock deep inside you. You moan out loudly and he chuckles “now now be quiet hon’ don’t need the others hearing you be a little whore for me” he groans into your ear, your pussy clenched around him and he raised a brow. “Oh you’d like that huh? Maybe next time could get Ves in here, grab your hips while he fucks you recklessly like what you probably imagined when he was holding them today huh?”

He places his large hand around your throat and thrusts deeper and faster inside of you. The sound of skin slapping and dirty sounds filling the room…hell maybe even the house! He feels you getting tighter and he knows you’re close. He puts both of your legs up on his shoulders, thrusting deeper into you than before. He spanks your thigh roughly from the side causing you to moan out loudly. “C’mon baby be a good little whore and cum around my cock for me” he groans into your ear thrusting deeper and faster now. Your orgasm washes over you, sending you over the edge as you come undone on him completely. Not long after he cums deep inside you, filling you up.

He’s quick to pull out and grab a towel quickly wiping you down. “Did such a good job for me baby, we need to head back down before they get suspicious” be says in a cocky tone. You both pull your clothes back on and head down stairs. “Got it all fixed!” he shouts out from the top of the stairs.

꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎ ꩜˚₊‧⁺⋆♱⋆☠︎︎

Hope you guys enjoyed! Sorry it seems somewhat rushed at the end :(

Love you🖤

[callmeoncette]

Do u take requests?

if u do can you make hobie brown x black reader where she beats the fuck out of this girl for flirting with her man. Like he clearly not interested, but she keeps insisting and then talks shit abt reader and reader goes ballistic on her ass.

thanks boo😘

Invited To The Cookout

Hobie x fem!black!reader

I remember someone mentioned they’d like to see him in a black southern cookout setting so I just mashed the two together if that’s okay with you!

Warnings: fighting, use of the n word, and a bit of suggestiveness at the end and I think that bout it

Hobie plucked away on his guitar, occasionally dodging a shirt or skirt, as he waited for you to get ready to go to one of your family’s many cookouts during the summer. He dressed casually. Black chucks, ripped up jeans with a few chains dangling, and a breezy band shirt because he learned very quickly that the southern heat in your dimension was nothing to mess with.

He smiled softly as he listened to you talk on FaceTime with your favorite cousin, who he mainly knew went by the nickname Bookie, trying to catch up on drama and coordinate your outfits. Your accent sounding thicker than normal as you two conversed.

“No cuz why my brother lie to that girl and tell her he was watching my baby? That negro ain’ watch shit but the back of his muthafuckin’ eyelids!” Your cousin said through the phone doing her hair

“He so weird for that like if you ain’ wanna go wit’ the girl just tell her…” you then smirked a bit and got closer to the camera, “I used to do that shit too tho’ I ain’t gonna’ lie.” You cackled like you’d list your mind. You then held up a large shirt and a pair of custom air force’s, “you think I should jus’ do these wit’ summ biker shorts? They go wit’ the colors Bee got on…” Bookie perked up, “oh my friend comin’?! HEY HOBIE!!” She yelled excited into the phone. He walked over to where you were and waved, the both of you laughing at her antics. She dropped her phone and the screen was black for a bit before she lifted it again to show her face along with a sweet baby girl’s, “Lala look! Its Hobie!” The baby babbling excitedly. You ‘awed’ softly at the sight before it was interrupted by your cousin pulling a confused face as she mumbled along reading something. Her face then fell as she groaned. Hobie quirked a brow while you asked her what was wrong, “Maggie bringin’ Tisha. You gon’ see yo bestie girl!” She laughed. Your face fell, “Stop playin’ wit’ me Bookie. You know I don’t like that girl.”

Hobie looked at your irritated face in confusion. You’d never mentioned the girl before but there’s clearly some history between the two of you. “Well alright…I’ll see you when you get at Granny’s girl. Khalil just got home from work so imma fix him a lil summ before we go.” Bookie said as her boyfriend walked behind her placing a kiss on the top of her head. You said your goodbye and hung up, laying your phone down a bit aggressively.

He stood behind you as silence took over. A pout on your face as you started doing your hair. His fingers drummed on his pants, “right, so who’s Tisha?” His voice is normally cool with a tinge of curiosity only you could pick up. You sighed a bit while rolling your eyes at the mention of her, “this bobble head bitch I can’t stand! Me and her been beefing since middle school.” you roughly brushed out your hair before he took the tool from your hands. He nodded, “the anarchist in me is screamin’ to tell you to fuck up the slag but I know you been wantin’ me to come to your ends and meet your fam’. ‘Ow bout we just avoid her and ‘ave a good time, yeah?” A soft kissed placed on your forehead, then your cheek, then your nose. You giggled lightly and pushed his face away, “okay! Okay fine! Now lemme hurry up an’ finish cuz we gotta pick up the drinks.” You say with a small smile.

———

You guys pulled up to your family home. The house wasn’t large and grand but the energy of it and the land made up for it. The yard and backyard was full of your relatives who waved and stared as you got out with Hobie. He looked around at everyone and let out a low whistle at the sight. He felt a familiar tingle and turn to see your cousin’s boyfriend holding their one year old, “it’s a lot right? I still be stuck everytime we come to one of these.” Khalil said with baby Jayla on his hip. Hobie hummed while he dapped the man up, “my guy!” He then squinted as he looked around, “she always said ‘er fam’ was bare big. Just didn’t think it was this big.” Khalil nodded, his locs swinging, “yeah they all hella cool tho’ ‘cept for like a few. [name] prolly explain that to you tho’ so…” the man shrugged lightly making his daughter laugh.

You walked up to the boys with Bookie laughing. She quickly held Khalil’s hand and turned to you, “c’mon girl. You know we gotta speak to Granny and Gran before anybody else.” She said to which you nodded knowing that in your family you spoke to the matriarchs first. It wasn’t really a rule, more so something you just did. You two led the way to the porch of the house where your great grandmother sat in a rocking chair with a thin blanket over her lap. She slowly turned to peer at your group and you spoke up first, “hey Gran.” She squinted with a frail smile, “hey, w-who you baby?” She asked, confused. “It’s [name], [mother’s name] daughter? I’m one of your great grandkids.” A bright smile come on her face as well as a look of realization. She nodded, “yes! I remember honey. How you been?” She asked but before you could answer her attention turned to Hobie who awkwardly stood beside you, “oh. He one my grands too?” You all laughed a bit. You shook you head and gently corrected her, “no Gran. He’s my boyfriend.” She nodded “I thought so. Too tall to be one of mine.” You giggled again and hugged her, “imma go see Granny now okay? It was good talkin’ to you.” You then led Hobie into the house while your cousin had her time with the woman.

“She’s a peach. ‘Ow old she anyways?” Hobie had thrown an arm over your shoulders and leaned down closer to you. You rolled your eyes, “you not supposed to ask a lady her age.” He pulled you closer, “yeah, but I didn’t ask the lady I asked someone else. Bit of a loophole, innit?” You sucked you teeth and pushed him with a laugh. “She’s 97.” He let out a low whistle, “97 years. That’s mad long!” He said in a bit of disbelief. You held the hand of the arm thrown over your shoulders and hummed in agreement walking to the kitchen where you knew your favorite woman was.

There she stood cutting up cheese for the macaroni while she hummed along with a song by Big Jay McNeely. Seeing her made you feel like a little girl again. How you always nagged her while she cooked and she’d answer your questions without missing a beat.

“Hey Granny.”

She looked up and broke out into a smile. She came over and hugged you tightly, “oh my sweet girl!” She pulled back and looked you up and down, “lemme get a good look atcha!” She hummed happily. Her eyes drifted to Hobie, “and who is this handsome young man?” A welcoming smile on her face. “This is Hobie Granny. My boyfriend.” He stuck out his hand, “it’s nice to meet yo-oh!” Your grandmother had yanked him into a tight hug. She pulled back up looked up at him, “oh so tall! My grandbabies pickin’ right might finally get some height in this family.” She squinted as she peered at his piercings, “all these piercings don’t that hurt sweetie?” You sigh and save Hobie pulling him back to your side, “Granny.” She waved you off, “I know. He’s still very nice on the eyes.” She smirked. She then looked back to Hobie, “now. Thought I heard an accent in there. Where you from?” “London ma’am.” He replied respectfully. She nodded, “okay, okay. Well I hope you hungry cuz I’m almost done in here.” “Smells bangin’. Can’t wait to eat it.”

Before anyone could say anything else Bookie came in, “Granny I brought your only great grand can I get the first plate?”

“Girl!”

———

Hobie sat down beside you at the picnic table eating. In front of the two of you was your cousin and her crew. As he ate he kept feeling someone’s eyes on him and every time he looked up it was the same girl. She was white from what he could tell, had black hair to her shoulders with her edges done, a septum, and over lined lips with lipliner and gloss combo you usually used. She would smirk whenever their eyes met but it never went further than that.

Once everyone finished eating you turned to him wiping the corner of his mouth, “want some dessert baby?” He smiled softly, “that’d be lovely, doll.”. Bookie stood with you also going to get some while Khalil went off to change Jayla leaving the punk alone. That is until the mystery girl sat herself beside him a little too close for comfort.

“Hey.” Her tone making him scoot over a bit.

“Uh hi.” He said before pulling out his phone hoping she wouldn’t continue talking but of course luck wasn’t on his side. “I saw you wit’ [name]…” she her name with a smidge of venom that he caught, “y’all like friends or summ?” He continued scrolling on his phone but answered her, “bit more than that, mate.” She sucked her teeth in annoyance, “what wrong wit’ you? She don’t let you have friends?”

“Not with bitches holding onto that one black grandma like their life depends on it.” Oh thank goodness for Bookie.

You stood beside her with a stank face and two bowls of banana pudding. You placed one in front of him and placed yours at your seat but chose to stand and stare at the girl.

“You know you don’t talk like that in real life Tisha.”

Oh fuck.

The girl stayed at her seat beside Hobie and rolled her eyes, “whatever girl. He ain’t yo nigga. Yours busy with that baby so worry ‘bout that!”

Everyone started taking notice of the discussion. Tisha’s friends, including a distant cousin of yours, coming over.

Bookie screwed her face up and almost lept across the table till Khalil swooped in, “mention my kid again and I promise you. He ain’t gon be able to keep me from you.” She growled.

You glared at the girl, “he ain’t hers but he mine and he clearly don’t wanna talk to you. I suggest you stop sayin’ nigga by the way before actual niggas tag yo head.”

“She’s part black…”

“Shut yo dumbass up Maggie oh my god!”

“I think he can speak for himself.” Tisha said snidely.

It happened so fast but it also felt like slow motion. Even with his spidey sense Hobie didn’t see the attack coming.

After her snide remark you promptly dragged Tisha from the table and commenced to beating dat ass! Like you really whooped that hoe! Walked that girl like a dog! Honestly you should be ashamed of yourself. Shame on you [name]. Shame! Why you do that girl like that?!

When you finally got dragged off of her by Hobie who whispered in your ear trying to calm you down she was just a mess on the ground. Her wig as gone, she was missing a sandal, she had holes all in her leggings, and as much as she tried to cover it she had a knot and black eye.

Everyone whispered around shocked before one of you uncles spoke up, “aight now. Someone get the girl up off the flo’. Get her on home.” He said as her friends came to her aid. He shook his head mumbling, “shouldn’t been talkin’ shit.”

———

You sat at the kitchen table hissing in pain, “ow! That hurts Hobes!” He sucked his teeth, “oi, pipe down Mayweather. It’s not that bad.” He said as he internally winced, putting bandaids on your fingers where your nails broke off too close. You pouted before looking at him as he carefully worked, “I’m sorry I did that.” The man snorted before actually full blown laugh. “What are you apologizin’ for? Did wha’ you had to do, yeah?” His tone is light and playful. He then smirked, “it was a bit hot too…” he kissed your hands as he placed the last bandage. You looked at him with low eyes, “oh yeah?” “Yeah…”

“Ouuuu y’all in Granny kitchen being nasty!”

“You have a whole baby??? Get out???”

“Okay but lemme get summ of that potato salad behind you before I go.”

“BOOKIE!”

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both worlds (part 22)

Part 23

Tw: Monty being a creepy lil shit, mans can't take no for an answer, short chaprer

Tell me what y'all think of the series so far i loce reading the comments and anon asks plpplsplps thanks

"(name)-" Yves's eyes were blank when you hung up. He slowly puts his phone down on his desk. He starts disassembling it, pulling the battery out and carelessly tossing it to the side of his laptop. You're not going to call him again.

He drummed his perfectly manicured fingers onto the table. Yves sighed heavily as he massaged his forehead. He extended his hand to grab a luxury bottle out from a metal pail of frosty ice.

He uncorked it and poured his champagne flute full of alcohol. It was filled to the brim, but Yves is skilled enough to pick it up without spilling a drop.

He walked up to the massive, crystal-clear window that allowed him to see the skyline and the city from a bird's eye view. The sky is dark but devoid of clouds. It's picturesque, but its beauty means nothing to Yves now. You aren't here to appreciate it with him and neither will you appreciate it from the pictures he sent.

He stared past his reflection as he sipped on his drink.

In his vast, lavish hotel room, he is the only occupant within it. Yves doesn't see the need to switch all the lights on. Just enough to see, but it made his room rather dim and ominous.

He continued staring out into the distance wordlessly and unblinkingly as he drank from the special glassware.

Silence envelopes him like the deep ocean. He wished that it also engulfed his mind. But alas, a man can only pray to receive such mercy.

__

The three of you laughed at a joke Evangeline said. She seems to be quite the comedian, her brain spins fast to think of witty sayings and comparisons.

The rain somehow worsened since, stuck in traffic and with nothing to do, you, Evangeline and her father resorted to singing along to songs, albeit off key with cracking voices.

Perhaps Mr. Jones was having a bit too much fun. So much so that he didn't pay attention to the road ahead of him.

You and Evangeline were forcefully jerked forward upon impact of the front to the bumper of someone's car.

Mr. Jones gloved hands were gripping tightly on the steering wheel and his hat is not on his greying head.

He turned to check on his daughter and his client.

"Is everyone okay?" He asked. Evangeline nodded and you did so too. You felt a bit sore where the seatbelt wrapped around your body, but otherwise, you're unharmed.

"Oh no... I hit someone..." Whined Mr. Jones. "I hope they're alright." His voice has much more guilt than fear or annoyance. He quickly pressed the emergency button with the triangles to signal the surrounding cars to move around him.

Among the downpour, you heard a car door slam shut. Followed by incessant knocking on the window at the driver's seat.

Mr. Jones gulped as he rolled down his window.

"Hey, what the fuck!? You just hit me!

"I am so sorry, Sir--"

"It'll cost me an arm and a leg to repair it, my paycheck isn't going to be ready until next week! I can't drive around without my bumper- look! The entire thing is gone!" The stranger with a sickeningly familiar voice but unfamiliar accent ranted at the older male.

"I-I'll give you my details. My deepest apologies sir, I will cover all the damage incurred. I am so sorry for this." Stammered Mr. Jones. He rushed to pull out a pen and a notepad.

"Yeah, you better! Today cannot get any worse." He grumbled to himself. He's standing under the rain, getting more and more drenched by the minute.

The man stuck his head into the car to avoid the pouring rain. But immediately snapped his neck to the back seat.

You and Evangeline had blood drained out of your faces. Montgomery's eyes lit up so bright that you thought he was actually illuminating the car.

"Hi Darlin'! Fancy meetin' you here!" His southern accent returned. You gave him an awkward wave.

"And yer friend too! Hello! Thanks for givin' my sweetheart their lunch." You looked to your friend, she has the most natural and confident smile on her face.

"Glad I could help, Sir."

"What are ya doin' in a fancy car like this?" Montgomery turned to you. "And where are y'all goin'?"

You struggled to answer. You don't know what to do.

It's times like these you wish Yves is here.

"We are going to my house for a little playdate." Evangeline answered for you.

You let out a discrete sigh of relief. But then you considered the possibility of him tailing you three. Your muscles started to tense up again.

"Well, ain't that fun. I'm goin' to the mechanic to get my car fixed 'cause of him!" Montgomery replied with a snark. Mr. Jones apologized once again as he handed Montgomery a piece of paper with his details on it.

"I'm sorry, Sir Montgomery. It was our fault, we were distracting dad and caused him to hit you." You appreciate that she is keeping his attention off you.

"Your daddy, eh?" He looked around the well-kept interior of the car. "Must be nice to be this rich." He narrowed his eyes at her.

"I wouldn't say we are rich. We definitely are comfortable though. I'm grateful to have such privileges and stabilities!" She beamed, you don't know if she's ignoring Montgomery's obvious spite towards her financial status or she's oblivious to it.

Montgomery visibly rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. "(Name), baby!" He addressed you in a sing-song voice.

"Why haven't ya' called? And, I missed ya' to death. Where were ya'? I hope you ain't skippin' school." You stammered and stuttered, you squirm under discomfort. You don't want to be around him any longer.

"Sir Montgomery, I suggest heading to the mechanic soon if you want to make it before it closes." Mr. Jones scribbled on something. "Here. Please accept this." He handed Montgomery a cheque. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Thank you." He stored the cheque somewhere that it wouldn't get too wet.

"As for ya, my sweetheart. What time will ya' be going home? I'll give ya' a lift back." He now stared at you, not caring that droplets of rain dripped down from his eyelashes and into the car.

Evangeline hooked her arms around yours. "They will be staying over. Isn't that right, (name)?"

His facial expression darkened. Montgomery did not like how she was touchy with his partner.

You meekly agreed.

"Well damn. Gimme your number then, sweetheart, I'll call ya."

Since you have two witnesses and you are in a car, you straight up told him no. You said that you're not comfortable with him contacting you and you never agreed to be in a relationship with him.

You thought that would be enough to either send him to a fit of rage or quit.

But instead, he rolled his eyes and huffed. Pretending that this is just a trivial matter.

"Can you cut the hard-to-get act just this once? It's rainin' cats and dogs out here, I wouldn't chase you any less if ya' handed me your phone number. In fact, I'd pursue ya even more!"

Horrified, you looked to Evangeline.

"Sir. (Name) is serious. They're not comfortable with you, they're not in a relationship with you. Please stop, you're being a creep!" She defended you.

"Shut yer' trap! You don't know squat about our love!"

"Don't speak to my daughter like that!" Mr. Jones finally came to her aid.

"What the- You should smack some sense into her! Talking to people like that--"

You interrupted the argument telling him that you are not giving him your phone number or any other information about yourself.

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation and gave up for the time being.

"Fine. You ain't wanna give it to me? I'll find out my damn self, I'll prove how devoted I am to ya'." He grinned and winked at you. Which made you want to vomit.

Evangeline is baffled how Montgomery isn't taking anything except his car bumper seriously. He's barely angry that you humiliatingly rejected him in front of two people, but instead sees it as a couple's game. Just mildly annoyed that you're making him work for your basic information, but otherwise determined and playful about it.

"Mark my words, I will win this challenge and take my prize!" He declared to you. "Have fun at your tea party with goldilocks over there. I'll see you tomorrow, honey."

Montgomery waved and then returned back to his car. The brake lights lit up before he sped off to the nearest mechanic.

You began hyperventilating, which led Mr. Jones to hand you a brown paper bag. Evangeline tried to console you by putting your hair and squeezing your hand.

Why do these things always happen to you?

[jampookie]

🎸⚡ Max Trio Headcanons Time!!!! Yay!!!!

IF YOU HAVE ANY OF YOUR OWN PLSSSSS TELL ME OMGOMG

Jaime:

- SHE DATED MARIA IN MIDDLE SCHOOL: IDC. THEYRE MIDDLE SCHOOL EXES what evidence do I have?? uhhh,,,.......none but i pinky promise they are.

- She's Chinese and Freeeench!!! : Chinese from her Mom and French from her Dad. She knows both languages fairly well and her favorite hobby is to say random things to Max in them that he will never understand (and loses his mind over~)

- She used to have medium length hair but cut it in freshman year: New Year New (Jai)Me!!!

- This is even more random than the Maria one but I hc her to be siblings with the spinoff ep 2 nurse: hear me out okay i just.........idk i think it's probably the lack of max trio content that's getting to my mind.

and it's just nurse lady has the same color palette as jaime ssss...sso...so....WHATEVER

- ⬆️ Adding to thisssss:

When she was a kid her sis was goth (liek as a teen? 10 year age gap between them im guessing) and mini 5 year old Jaime always felt INSPIRED🪄🪄 so she got alot of practice as a kid by stealing makeup hehehe and now she has a PhD in dressing goth! huzzah!

...most of her clothes are hand me downs but atleast she got a starter pack of some sorts 😾

- Whenever she's bored she practices her makeup-ing on Damien,: Since he can actually sit still. She tried it on Max but he either fell off the chair or subconsciously rubbed it all off when his face got itchy....whoops.

- She playssss....keyboard 🎹! I think! And she probably sings sometimes too. Lalalala 🎤🎤

- After Ep 11 events she made pretty good friends with Jake!!!:

Fun Scenario - One day Jaime just so happened to not have makeup on so she was just walking around with her natural BEAUTAY but Jake didn't recognize her like that so he released a quite high pitched SHRIEK and fell backwards thinking she was someone else. They were both quite confused.

- DAMIEN AND MAX CALL HER 'JAY' AS A NICKNAME: Change my mind😈😈😡🤑

- She's not very good at facial expressions:

If she's having the time of her life she'll slightly smile. If she fell off a cliff and lost a few limbs she might slightly pout. The other 99.99% of the times in her life are just a deadpan expression, 😐.

Max:

- MAAAAAAX MY MAIN MAN!!!!!: Before I FULLY start up abt him I just wanna blab a lil on how I think him and Jaime met.

In either Freshmen or MS (I can't decide) Jaime was just listening to music in art class minding her own business till a red and orange gremlin invited himself into her personal space. "WHAT THE HELL DUDE YOU LISTEN TO (certain cool band) TOO!?!? WHAAAAT!?!?" shrieked the gremlin, unaware and uncaring of the other 30 people in the room.

And there you go. Jaime Max friendship. Huzzah!

- Half Brazilian Half Mexican!!: Mexican from his Mom so he knows his Spanissssh!!! I've never thought about Max's dad so lets say he's fatherless. Good for him.

⬆️ - ONTO THIS: I also headcanon Drew as half Mexican (and half Filipino if anyones interested) so so so so SO me thinks Drew and Max are cousins! Teehee!

They used to get along. They fell out. Or the two sides of the family fell out? Can't decide but I will agree with any theory that suggest DRAX ENEMIES GAAAHHHH DRAX ENEMIES!!!!!

- He plays guitar, drums and also sings: Triple cool 😆

- His eyebrow piercing got irritated alot. Like ALOT:

He forgot to clean it. Damien tried endlessly to tell him he'd end up with a tomato brow if he didn't take care of it. He didn't really listen but hey it worked out in the end!! happy days!

- He has BIG mood swings BIG: This is canon but WHATEVER. I like to imagine some of the hangouts he has with his friends go like:

5 minutes in: Oh yay! This is a fun hangout!

10 minutes in: I HATE THE FLOOR AND I HATE THE TWO OF YOU GO AWAY LEAVRMA,LEN,ENNOW

12 minutes in: I love you guys pls neevrbr leavemr idk what Id do without u ❤️❤️ group hug guys group HUG❤️

13 minutes in: we're not hanging out anymore

13½ minutes in: NO COME BACK IM SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN IT

- He laughs either like a hyena or like Peter Griffin: he's either "SAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHGKAKLJJABLJAHLJIBJAKLBJAKLLJABJKBJAIBZIBAIJBIABJLIBIAIBJLIBJLALBJAJLBIKABJLIKBMAL" or "nyeheheheheheh...." depends if he's feeling BIG AND BOLD or mischievous cheshire cat 😈

- His love language is pacing around the room and telling you his grand bizarre plans and interests. Just endlessly talking....:

Me too Max. Me too.

- Sport is one of his other hobbies besides music he definitely loves the competitiveness part in sport class:

Half his classmates want him blown to smithereens, but hey he's a really good player so the sporty ones like him! He LOVES to win AND WON'T ACCEPT A DRAW EITHER HE WILL NOT

every time a draw happens he grabs the nearest ball and throws it at the nearest person while shrieking in agony

When his team wins hes like ☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻🤡😂🤡😂🤡😂🤡😂🤡🤣🤡😂🤣🤡😂🤡☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻 nanananananananan hahahahahah

- He has ALOT of his freckles because he's always outside:

It's the only reason Jaime and Damien have an ounce of Vitamin D, cause Max always drags them outside to hang out!

- TOOTH GAP. CANON. CANON. DONT CARE:

😁😁😁

- Him and Damien love South Park!!:

His favorite is probably Cartmannn..... He likes to imagine himswlf and Damien as Cartman and Kyle. He's very sad Jaime doesn't really watch it though.

- All 3 of them love Homestuck though!!!! When the 4th member of their band didn't DITCH THEM YET (🙄) They all cosplayed the Beta kids:

Max was Dave, Damien was John, Jaime as Roseeee.....and Loser Traitor 4th member was Jade. Screw you LT.

Damien:

Damikins Damikins Damishminkywins my little shmitten kitten booboo snooky cookie🥹🥹🥹🥹

HE HAS STRETCHED LOBES.: IM TELLING YOU.

He also has lazy eye: if you don't know what that is it's basically One eye is great and does it's job. Second eye sucks and goes loosy goosey (up down left right instead of centre we'll say.)

HE'S GERMANNNN: I can't decide if he actually speaks German though idk....hmmmmmmm yeah maybe actually

Likes to paint 🎨🎨: AND HE'S DAMN GOOD AT IT TOO 😈😈 He mainly does objects but sometimes people!

HIM AND HAILEY MAKE THE BESTEST FRIENDS!: They're both physically 17 but internally 97. They stand together, deeply sigh together and criticize the hideously idiotic people around them. Damiens the more talented one at it though.

⬆️ wait this just occured to me. Hailey Damien and Zander as a trio would be so great?? OMG

New HC!!!! Him and Zander both wear alot of jewelry (bracelets and rings and stuff) so they might trade some 🤔🤔: hmmm

He's one of those people that's naturally very good at Math: so he's always the one his friends (or just random classmates..) go to for either answers to steal or just for help. He doesn't really mind either, how kind of him 😁😁

Basic Stuff..

..like bdays and heights!!!

🎁

Max: December 3rd 2003

Damien: January 17th 2003

Jaime: October 31st 2003

📏

Max: 5'7 idk (170cm)

Damien: 6'3 (190cm)

Jaime: 5'3½! (161cm)

OKAY THERES THAT DONE. idk if you can edit posts i forgor but hey if i think of any more hcs or see any from others I like I'll come back and update. TY FOR READING ALL THIS BABBLING HELPME

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody does love | MYG - They Meet

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where the two meet for the first time. Part 2 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 3k+

Warnings - lil swearing, SMOKING IS INJURIOUS TO HEALTH! nothing else I can think of

Ratings - 13+

A/N - Apologies for the late update. But do let me know in the comments what you think of the chapter and what direction you want to see the narrative flow in. Also, this is not proofed, please excuse typos, tense, and grammar errors. And if you liked it, please please please engage with the post. Comment, like, repost. Your engagement is the sole reason I am pushed to write. 

Your flight landed with a two-hour delay at 5 pm at the Incheon airport. After collecting your baggage and going through customs, you shot a text to your friend and waited near one of the cafes inside the airport for the crowd to die down. In about 10 minutes you lugged your bags behind you, pulling your mask further up your nose and pulling the bucket hat to right above your eyes. 

It didn’t take long to spot Sammy. Dressed in all black, he had a casual gait that only he could have. It also helped that he carried a little cat poster. You could see his eyes crinkle with a smile as he saw you walking out, which mirrored your own.

“Oh it’s so good to finally have you here!” he said while hugging and slightly managing to lift you off the ground.

“I know. But I am so hungry and nervous and I have such a bad headache,” you mumbled into his jacket shoulder.

“Let’s get you washed, fed and rested. Come on,” he chuckled patted your back and took one of your bags before starting walking towards his car. Ah! His car. A black 2022 Maserati Ghibli Modena. One that he has been yapping about for months on end. 

You honestly found it ridiculous. The inordinate amount of money people would pay to procure “luxury” items always confounded you. Sure, wealth commands a certain amount of comfort- Your brain stopped as soon as you sat down on the passenger’s seat of the car. Your ass was far more comfortable than it has ever been on any bed or couch that you have ever owned. Maybe you can allow yourself to see why someone would spend hundreds and thousands of dollars on a car. 

Sammy closed the back of the car, with all your bags safely tucked in, and walked over to the driver’s seat. He saw you leaning back onto the seat with your eyes closed. He smirked behind the mask and sat down, swiftly starting the car.

“Still think this was an unnecessary splurge?” his mask had come off and he had that wide eye-crinkling smile.

“Maybe not,” you smiled to yourself. “How far is your place from here?”

“About an hour, with the school and office traffic now, some more.”

“My dead body will enter your residence, Kim Woosung,” you groaned and pulled at the seatbelt in annoyance. Both your mask and hat were now on your lap. Your head felt like the persistent beating of 500 drums all at once.

“Try to take a nap, I will play your sleep playlist,” he suggested. 

You could not move another muscle to bother with a response. His reply was like a command. With your eyes shut, you shifted your shoulders to place your neck relatively comfortably. The last thing you remember is the comforting, low hum of white noise filling up the space around you.

_______________________

You walked out of the SNU campus, your colleague and friend Samairah in tow. She is the reason you are in Seoul in the first place. You met at an academic conference in Edinburgh when you were still PhD researchers. Dr Samairah Nazli is now a full-time professor of Gender Studies at the prestigious Seoul National University. 

“It is just a contract for the coming academic year, Y/N! Come on! You will also get to spend time with Sammy.” You had scoffed back at your friend over the video call last November when she said her department wanted to invite you as a Visiting Professor for their newly-introduced Feminist Economics course and the existing Gender and Media course that a now-retired professor used to handle. 

But a week later when you found yourself in a virtual meeting with the Dean, Department Head and the Vice Chancellor, the opportunity did seem intriguing. They did want to eventually offer you a full-time position. You would be tenured at 32! Also, you can work with Samairah again, after working on your first book together, you knew you would work together again. 

And of course, you get to spend time with Sammy. One of your best friends. Kim Woosung of The Rose. But only Sammy to you. Crazy to think that you only met him about three years ago, at Friar Park of all places on the planet, but lord, did you love that dude to bits.

“Wanna grab a drink?” Samairah asks, as you both head towards the subway station.

“No, meeting the broker again.”

“This will be the 8th place she’s showing you?”

You shook your head as you dug in your pockets for the cigarette case. “No. Ninth.”

You lit a cigarette and said, “I really want to finalise a place and settle down before the semester begins.”

“Tough to do all that in what- 12 days now?” she counted the days mentally and grabbed the smoke you held out for her to counter.

“I wish I were a millionaire at times like these,” you took back the smoke and gave it a long drag as you stopped at the crossing. Samairah would go straight from here to catch her train and you will take a left and meet Hwang Seul-gi. Your realtor. Broker. Currently, the most important person in your life.

You could have opted to stay at the Siheung-Si staff residence for part-time and visiting faculties, but that would mean you would spend half the day in transit. And you hated transit. Motion made you sick. So yes, car trips with you are absolute joyrides for your friends. 

You also wanted time to work on the manuscript of the next book you are planning. And you want enough time to sleep. God, you wish to have a carefree night of sleep soon. Not that Sammy’s guest room is bad, it is comfortable, and luxurious even when you consider the free cuddles from Woolfie, but it still is not a place of your own. 

Although Sammy argued the opposite back when you told him about your year-long relocation to Seoul. He wanted you to live as roommates. Even offered you to pay for house-sitting in mirth, for all the times he would be away on tour. 

Again, you loved the guy. But his social butterfly stages of self are something you could take in small doses. You knew what his schedule was like, how many people dropped by for work at his home studio, and even just because to share drinks. But a whole year of it would drive you mad. So Sammy finally gave up trying to convince you and connected you to Seul-gi.

The lovely Seul-gi who yet again showed you a wonderful place, reasonably near the campus. But the deposit itself would require you to sell both your kidneys, maybe an eye and even a good chunk of your liver.

It was almost 7:30 by the time you left the apartment complex and headed towards Sammy’s place. You could take a cab, but the crisp late February air made a nice weather for a walk. You were passing through a park, almost deserted at the time, when you heard a noise that alerted you.

It sounded like someone was struggling. Some animal. You could hear low grunts, probably a puppy or a kitten, but you looked around and saw nothing immediately. The noise continued so you stopped and tried to follow the direction of the sound. 

You reached a bush at the side of the pathway and were sure that this was the location. But the sun was already down. Dim yellow lights sparsely lit the park pathway, enough for people to look and walk, but not enough to see within the bushes. 

By the noise you could now tell that there was also a metal scraping noise, but barely so. You turned on your phone's flashlight but still saw nothing. You looked around but saw no one. Trying your best to not step on any of the plants, you entered the bush and squatted down with the flashlight.

“Hey, are you okay?” a low but heavy voice from above you startled you and the phone almost dropped from your grip as you stood up to see who it was. A man donning all black with a mask, a cap and a hoodie looked right back at you. Only his eyes were visible and the eyes were filled with concern. In the commotion of your entry into the bush and stomping around, ever so mildly within it had now increased the noise. 

It sounded like a distressed kitten. You looked back down and could see one of the drainage grills under the dense foliage of the bush. You looked back up at the stranger and said, “I think a kitten has fallen into the drain.”

Before the man could respond, you squatted back down again and saw the drain and beady little eyes inside it clearly this time. You put down your bag beside you on the ground and put all your effort into pulling the iron rungs up. You could feel it move a little, but not enough to dislodge it. 

“Hey baby, don’t worry. I will get you out of there,” you cooed through your laboured breath. By now, the stranger had joined you. You both exchanged glances and without saying a word you went in and pulled at the grille together at the same time. It seemed a lot easier with the two of you having pulled at it. With one arm, the stranger shifted the grille aside. 

You peered down the drain and extended your arm to grab the kitten. The poor being was scared and cold and probably even more traumatised by all the strange and sudden commotion. You leant down completely, with your stomach on the ground and lowered yourself into the opening up to your shoulders to grab the kitten with both your hands.

The man next to you extended a cautious arm as if to make sure you don’t fall in. Well, the opening was not big enough for you to fall into. But you could get weirdly stuck. But soon he saw your body lifting up and his extended hand hovered over your body, never touching, but ready to help if needed.

You came back up with a feisty calico kitten in your hands who initially made a few tiny scratches on your palm but was now just shivering. The man beside you promptly took off the work jacket he was wearing over his hoodie and handed it towards you. How many layers is he wearing? A small part of your mind wandered, but you quickly grabbed it from him, giving him a thankful smile and wrapped the kitten up in the jacket and held her close to your body, for maximum warmth.

You looked down at the ground near your feet where your bag was and before you could bend over to grab it, the man swooped in and said, “I got this.”

After you stepped out of the bush, you turned to the man again and said, bowing politely, “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem at all. I have two cats of my own, I know the fear of losing them” he said in a calm but understanding tone. You looked at his eyes more closely while he talked, you could have sworn you had met him before, but didn’t know where.

You shook your head and replied, “Oh no, this is not my cat.” And then you explained the noise you followed. The man nodded his head and looked around probably thinking the same thing that you were. “Do you think the mother is around here somewhere?” you asked.

“If she were, she wouldn’t be too far away.”

You looked back down at the kitten, who had stopped shivering now but was still covered in a considerable amount of mud and dirt. You also considered checking if she was chipped and if the person could be notified if she was already a pet. “Do you know of any vet nearby? I am new here, so-”

“Yes, it’s on my way. I will drop you,” he held his arm out to point in the general direction of where you were headed to go back to Sammy’s. You started walking and the man joined you. Out of the park, and having crossed two traffic signals and taken two right turns, you reached the vet’s chamber. It was reasonably empty. You put your name in the register and waited. 

The man sat in a chair next to you but one. He looked over to see you making conversation with the kitten. Of course, she won’t be able to say if she lost her mother or forgot her way home. But the sing-song voice you used clearly worked. He could see the large dark beady eyes of the kitten staring back at your face with wonder and trust.

He too looked at your face with wonder and felt a strange sense of trust and comfort. When he saw a person climb inside a bush at a more or less empty park on a random Thursday evening, he half expected it to be a madman. But when he peered in and saw the glow of a flashlight, he grew more curious. 

He noticed how a part of your right elbow was scraped slightly, not that you seemed to notice. He also saw the muddy bits on your beige outfit. And then looked again at the kitten wrapped in his jacket, on your lap.

“Y/N,” the receptionist called out. You stood up and turned towards the man and gave him a curt nod. He blinked several times before nodding back at your retreating figure and gulped down a deep breath. Did you catch him staring? Even if you did, you didn’t let it show. Y/N. Y/N. He repeated the name in his head a couple of times. 

It was only after the doctor examined the kitten and told you that she has no chips, and is healthy but is slightly malnourished, that you realised you have so far, that is almost in 30 to 40 minutes’ time, not once asked for the man's name - the stranger in black, now at pet clinic reception.

You just followed a stranger through a dimly lit park and ended up where you are now. When put that way, doesn’t sound like the safest thing to do.

The groomers had taken the kitten to another room to clean her up. The vet wrote up some supplements that the kitten could be given and asked you to wait outside. You walked out and saw the man, right where he was, hugging your bag on his lap, scrolling through his phone. Cap, mask and hoodie - still intact. You went up to him and sat in the seat next to him but one. 

“Thanks for looking after my bag,” you smiled. 

The man looked up at you and held the bag out, you could see the crinkles of his smile near his eyes. “Is she alright?” he asked.

You explained whatever the doctor said. 

“Are you going to keep her then?”

Your eyes widened comically and then it dawned on you. You don’t even have a place for yourself. Where the fuck are you gonna keep her? And if the mother was still around, she would likely not be malnourished, so it is not like you can hope to reunite her with her mom. 

Sammy would not mind, for now, you knew. But Woolfie? How would he react?

Seeing you stunned, the man chuckled, “You hadn’t really thought so far, had you?”

“Not really. My immediate instinct was to just release the kitten. But she’s so small and frail, I cannot possibly let her be anywhere else. But-”

Before you could say anything else, one of the groomers approached you, with the kitten now in a cosy, little carrier, all clean and dried. And he carried the jacket she was wrapped in, in the other hand. 

You thanked him and then turned to the man next to you and looked guiltily down at the jacket on your right hand. “I am sorry about this. I will get it dry-cleaned and return it to you. And also, I am sorry I didn’t catch your name till now. I am Y/N Y/L/N," you draped the jacket over your other forearm and extended your arm for a shake.

“HI Y/N, I am Min Yo-,” he choked on his words before he cleared his throat and said taking your hand and giving it a firm shake, “I am Min Yong-Ho.”

You smiled back and walked out of the vet clinic. “I go this way now,” you pointed towards the left. 

“Oh I go the opposite way,” you could see the hint of a smile but also maybe apprehension.

You had bought cat food worth a week, food bowls, a litter box, litter pellets and a small cat bed. You requested the store to deliver the items to Sammy’s address. In the meantime, you had texted the bare bones of your encounter to him. So he was ready to greet a kitten into his home by the time you went back and for the time being had locked his bedroom door, where Woolfie was fast asleep.

You nodded and asked the man, “So, Yong-ho, how do I return your jacket?”

The man looked around, eyes seeming frantic, almost like a deer caught in headlights. Until finally he pointed at a cafe on the opposite side of the road. “How about we meet at that cafe on Sunday evening?”

“Sure, I will bring back a spick and span jacket, I promise,” you said and asked, “6 PM sounds good?”

“6 PM sounds perfect,” the man nodded and waved back at you as you went your way - the kitten in the carrier in one hand, his jacket in the other and your bag, now draped as a sling across your body. He doesn’t know how long he stood there. But he kept staring your way for five seconds longer after your silhouette disappeared over the horizon.

Taglist: @majiiisstuff, @starlighttaek8, @yoongrace